#but i had to have him be a douche <3

[acescorazon]

Changes

Title: Changes

Chapter: 4/?

Rating: M

Word count: 5114

Warnings: Crocodile. Violence, Explicit Language, Alcohol use, Su*cidal thoughts, and a really sad Buggy who isn't doing too good chief.

Chapter excerpt:

“Oh, so now you’re not going to say anything? After everything you’ve said, now you want to be quiet? I hate you, i hate you, i hate you.”

“Buggy, go to bed. I’m not going to fight you.”

Why?! Why is it the one time Buggy finally gets to say what’s on his mind, he’s instantly being dismissed? Why does he have to go to bed when his heart is pounding and he has so much adrenaline that he feels like he can run a full marathon? “You fight me all the time. Wait, no, no no, we don’t fight. You just beat the shit out of me because i’m beneath you. What’s different this time, huh? Why don’t you want to deal with me now?” 

((A/N: Trust in the process. also manga logic applies to everything in this story. My boy could get thrown into a volcano and walk out fine. which is why he isn't like in a coma rn.))

| CH1 | CH2 | CH3 |

As soon as Cross Guild really starts to gain notoriety and they receive funding from various underworld organizations, Buggy makes sure to have weapons sent over to the island. After all, that’s one of the many things Crocodile wants, and if Crocodile is happy, then Buggy…Well, Buggy gets to live a little longer if Crocodile is at least content, and that has to count for something. 

 

The summer sun is high in the sky, and Buggy’s men are happily chattering and unloading the crews’ new weapons from one of their supplier's ships, some are even trying out their new toys, while Buggy’s stuck in the crew’s armory with Mihawk, uneasy from just being around the other man, not that being surrounded by weapons makes things any better though.

The guns, canons, and various other weapons, don’t get criticized or even really looked at, but the swords they receive end up getting inspected by Mihawk. He goes through every sword, scowling, and making sure Buggy knows that he hates them all.  “Garbage...” he repeats after lifting up every sword, yes every sword, and carefully examining it, and Buggy can’t help but groan internally because he doesn’t get what’s wrong with them, they seem perfectly fine to him.

“These are too fragile and dull. They couldn’t even cut a slice of bread, it’s disgraceful.” Mihawk glares at Buggy as he says those words, making the other squirm slightly, and it’s as if it’s his fault the swords are of such poor quality and not their dealers.

Okay, but Mihawk is supposed to be a great and experienced swordsman, surely he can figure out how to make the best out of the swords they have, right? “Okay, I get that, but… There’s got to be some way we can put them to good use, right?” He asks. 

Mihawk scoffs at him, “The best thing we can do is dispose of them so they can’t fall into someone else’s hands. I doubt anyone around here can use these… Your men’s swordsmanship is at a subpar level, and they’ll break these within their first use, I guarantee you that. Have them destroyed.”  What the hell? First of all, how dare he insult Buggy’s children, and secondly, does he know how expensive those damn swords were? “Hawkeye, we can’t just have them destroyed, do you know how many berries these things cost?” Buggy groans. Surely Mihawk knows that even if they have money coming in now they can’t just afford to throw away millions of berries worth of swords.

Mihawk clicks his tongue in response, “Are you so useless that you can’t even dispose of a few swords?” That’s…that’s not the problem! The problem is that It’d be a waste of money… “Have them destroyed and order new ones, or else.”

Buggy bites the inside of his cheek. There’s a weird concoction of fear and irritation brewing inside of him. He’s too much of a coward to actually stand up to Mihawk, but…But he’s so frustrating!…he wants hundreds of swords just destroyed…such a waste of time and money.

In the end though, Buggy decides that he’s going to just go along with what Mihawk wants because what else can he do? He gives his weapons dealer hell after Mihawk literally has him destroy the crew’s new swords, beyond frustrated that he’d have to wait another week for more weapons to come in because the last thing he wants is for Crocodile to get pissy at him again for someone else’s negligence.

A week later though, and the new shipment of swords is being inspected by Mihawk, who seems at least content with the new batch of weapons, but he has other complaints now, ones about Buggy’s children, again. “I was watching your men training earlier,” he states, putting a sword back into the wooden crate it belongs in, “You should be ashamed to call yourself their leader. They’re as useless in combat as you are.”

Another day, another insult that goes straight to Buggy’s chest. He can never do anything right. Never. And Mihawk and Crocodile have made sure to quickly teach him that painful lesson, everything he tries to do either leads to them cruelly insulting him or worse, kicking his ass, and Buggy’s getting tired of it all.  

These days it feels like he doesn’t have much pride left in him…”Ah, about that…” He replies softly, but he’s not sure what he can even say to defend himself. Yeah, his men aren’t exactly the strongest, but…they’re his kids, Buggy loves them regardless.  

“If we didn’t need men, I’d tell you to get rid of every last one of them.”

But his men…Those are his children…And Mihawk…Mihawk thinks he can just ‘get rid’ of them? Buggy grimaces slightly. It's not the comment about his own incompetence that hurts. Well, okay, that hurts, but it doesn’t hurt that much. It's the fact that Mihawk said he’d get rid of Buggy’s kids that really hurts and leaves him feeling like he’s been stabbed in the chest. Mihawk sees his crew as worthless and replaceable… and if Mihawk gets rid of Buggy's crew... If he takes his only shred of happiness away from him…

...Then what?

“…I’ll have them train harder…” Buggy mutters, and now he has another thing to worry about.

Buggy’s still trying to recover from Mihawk’s harsh words after he leaves the armory, and of course, Crocodile has to come along and make things ten times worse by yelling at him, and it’s over the most trivial thing ever. It’s not even worth mentioning, Buggy just forgot to do something, and Crocodile just…He’s Crocodile.

“Fuck what Hawkeye says, you’re not worth keeping around.”

Yeah…Yeah, he knows.

These days Buggy doesn’t feel big and flashy, these days he feels more like a mosquito than anything. Mihawk and Crocodile make him feel tiny and useless, like a pest that they can get rid of at any moment, and just…

It hurts. 

He finds himself utterly drained after each and every interaction he has with either or both men, often just wanting to be alone after he’s dealt with them. Things are usually at their worst after meetings, he quietly returns to his room after them typically and just… thinks about the things that they’ve said to him. it’s really like they don’t see him as a human being with actual emotions, and their words often come back to haunt Buggy until late at night.

Mihawk thinks he’s a sniveling coward who is undeserving of the title of emperor of the sea. He also thought he was undeserving to be a warlord to be fair…and He thinks he’s a fake and a fraud…And…he’s apparently disgusted at the fact that Shanks considers Buggy such a close friend when he’s a gutless wimp…

As for Crocodile…Well, some things are better left unsaid, but he doesn’t think too highly of Buggy either and makes sure to tell him that every time he comes into contact with him. Buggy doesn’t get why the other two are so hostile towards him when he’s literally never done anything to either of them… 

Plus, It’s not like he hasn’t tried to improve his relationship with the other two because he has, several times actually. Crocodile and Mihawk just have no interest in having even a somewhat normal, healthy work relationship with him because they hate Buggy’s guts and think he’s undeserving of their respect and friendship.

But Buggy can’t figure out why! It just sucks…This whole Cross Guild thing sucks. Mihawk and Crocodile make his life so miserable, but, ahaha, that’s fine… 

…

Once the flagship Crocodile wanted so badly is finally finished, Buggy’s men excitedly grab him, pulling him towards the docks, and Buggy loves their excitement...he just wishes he could share it. He doesn’t care about that stupid ship. Crocodile has screamed at him so many times over it, impatient and not seeming to understand that you can’t just make a ship overnight, and Buggy just… he hates this thing already without having seen it.

 “Chairman Buggy, you’re going to love it!”

“It’s a ship fit for a king!”

“Close your eyes, close your eyes! We want you to be surprised when you see it.”

Buggy closes his eyes like his men tell him to, feeling a little nervous, but he pushes that feeling aside because he gave his crew specific blueprints to follow, so hopefully they were able to build a ship that satisfies Crocodile (if that’s even possible.)

“Okay! You can open your eyes now, Chairman Buggy.”

“...” Yeah, he sure is surprised when he opens his eyes and sees the ship his men have made for Cross Guild. C-clown…There’s a clown figurehead… he thinks, utterly horrified. Now if his men would have made him a giant ship that was circus-themed and used his likeness as a figurehead in the past, he’d be ecstatic. This is the exact kind of ship that he’d want, however, this couldn’t be further from what Crocodile wanted. He…He swears that he gave his men blueprints for the ship that Crocodile wanted to be made, and yet they still…

“Over here, sirs! Look at the ship we built!”

Buggy doesn’t even have the energy to run anymore at this point. He knows who’s behind him without having to look, and… here it comes, Buggy thinks, sighing to himself. It’s not like he asked for this ship, in particular, to be built, his men just worship him like he’s a god, and, ironically, at times he can’t control what they do. They must have thought the original design for the ship was boring and needed to look flashier…Which it did… but, fuck.  

“For fuck’s sake!” Crocodile gasps, “I gave you fucking blueprints!” And Buggy gave those blueprints to his men, who obviously ignored them and wanted to make a ship that looked just like Buggy instead.

“...That thing is hideous…” Mihawk comments quietly.

“I’m so fucking tired of you fucking everything up!” Crocodile yells, “Get your ass in the meeting room, now.”

Crocodile literally grabs him by the hair and drags him away from the docks, his men see all of this, and yet… they somehow still remain oblivious. Do they think it doesn’t hurt Buggy to be grabbed by the back of his head? Or do they think Buggy and Crocodile are playing some kind of cute game?!

The same men who say they’d give their lives to protect Buggy and blindly follow him are high-fiving each other and bragging about the ship they just made for him, either oblivious or uncaring towards the fact that the very man they worship is being pulled away to his doom.

There are tears in Buggy’s eyes long before they even reach the meeting room. He doesn’t think he’s going to make it to see the day the marines come after their heads because he’s pretty sure today’s the day he’s going to die. Crocodile throws him into the meeting room, and he stumbles slightly, almost falling, but Buggy catches himself at the very last moment and sighs shakily, awaiting Crocodile’s wrath. “You really like getting on my nerves, don’t you?!” Crocodile asks, still yelling at him. No, Buggy does not like getting on Crocodile’s nerves, if anything it’s the complete opposite. “Why’d you do it, huh?” he asks, raising his hand high up in the air. 

“I did-..” What Buggy wants to say is: ‘I didn't tell them to make that fucking ship. My men just do what they want, I'm fucking sorry.” but he of course doesn’t get the chance to say that. Crocodile brings his palm down, striking his cheek, and Buggy knew it was coming but he’s still left stunned as his tears start falling down his cheeks.

Buggy didn’t do anything.

Buggy never does anything to deserve this bullshit.

 

Why does he always take all of his frustrations out on Buggy, especially over things that he can’t control or over things that don’t even make sense when you stop to think about them? Buggy’s a coward, right? Since Buggy’s a coward, why would he do something like have a ship that looked like him built? Surely he wouldn’t want to anger Crocodile more. Surely, he wouldn’t have that ship made if he was really trying to make Crocodile mad and then turn around and beg for mercy afterwards…

That just doesn’t make sense. 

Why does he always hit him?

“Look at me when i’m speaking to you.” Crocodile orders, grabbing Buggy by the face roughly and turning it towards his direction. Buggy didn’t even realize he wasn’t looking at him... “I gave you fucking blueprints, why does the ship look like that?” He asks, but he doesn’t wait for a reply before he strikes Buggy in the face again, “Are you trying to fuck with me?” 

“No!” Buggy whines pathetically, trying to get just one full fucking sentence in, “I-”

“Bullshit!” 

Why does Buggy even bother to defend himself? He won’t listen. They won’t listen. They hate him, they want him to suffer, they want him dead. If it weren’t for his status as an emperor, they would have killed him ages ago and fed him to the fish. “I’m so fucking tired of you, clown. You really can’t do a goddamn thing!” Yeah, Buggy knows. 

Crocodile grabs him by his collar and yanks him forward, and he knows what's coming next. Crocodile is going to beat his face in with that cold metal hook of his again. He closes his eyes and braces himself for Crocodile’s punch, but it never comes.

Before Crocodile can punch him, Mihawk grabs Crocodile’s upper arm with a sigh, “I’m tired of listening to his insufferable crying, leave him alone.”

“You telling me what to do?”

The mood in the room was already volatile, but Mihawk somehow made things worse. Mihawk and Crocodile glare at each other while Buggy continues to weep, afraid that at any moment he could get hit again by Crocodile. 

Maybe he should be happy right now. If he’s lucky Mihawk and Crocodile will take all of their anger and frustrations out on each other instead of Buggy, but Buggy is still shaking, weeping, and at his limit…And He’s not sure what pushed him over the edge. Maybe it’s from being hit, or maybe it’s from being screamed at, or maybe it’s all the stress he’s been under lately, maybe it’s all three. He doesn’t know, he just…

He can’t stop crying. 

“Leave him alone. You said you wanted to have a meeting earlier, so let’s start it.” Mihawk repeats, and Buggy wishes he had a fraction of the courage Mihawk has, and that he could just stand up to both of them. “You know i hate having my time wasted.” 

“Like i give a fuck.” Crocodile coldly replies, but he lets go of Buggy a moment later, shoving him to the ground, and Buggy’s unsure what to do next. Just like always Crocodile's going to just scream at Buggy and hit him, and then act like he did nothing…Actually, they’re both going to act like nothing’s happened. They want to actually have a meeting after all that...

Crocodile and Mihawk are so…

“Have a fucking seat, clown.” 

“Quit that crying while you're at it, you’re giving me a headache.”

Buggy picks himself up off the ground, doing what he’s told and having a seat in his usual spot at the meeting table. He’s usually well put together and at the very least he can hold his emotions in until he’s out of the room and far away from the other two. Today’s a little different though. His tears continue to fall as the meeting gets started, and he can barely pay attention to what Crocodile is saying. 

Crocodile sighs as he sits back in his chair and lights a cigar, “Back to the topic of Prickly Pear Island. We aren’t ready for a full takeover, but i’d like to take a little trip there, meet with a couple of people, and see if we can get things moving.” 

Buggy leans forward, resting his head against the cool surface of the table as Crocodile continues to talk. His heart hurts. He hates this all. His home is going to be destroyed, and if his men aren’t killed then Mihawk is going to get rid of them as soon as he finds someone better suited for Cross Guild. Not to mention Buggy himself is on death row, and could be killed by anyone or anything at any given moment. He hates Cross Guild. He hates Mihawk and Crocodile. He hates his life. 

“It’s going to be a pain in the ass, but we have to bring the clown with us,” Crocodile announces, adding to Buggy’s despair. He doesn’t care about that stupid island. He doesn’t want to go, the only reason they’re bringing him is because he’s basically a human shield at this point and the government won’t attack them if he’s around. “And as much as i hate that fuckin ship, it’s all we got for right now.” Does Crocodile think he’s the only one who hates the ship? Buggy fucking hates it too, he doesn’t even want to go near it. 

“But i say we get some more supplies and recruits just in case, and leave in about a month and a half.” He pauses, “I’m giving you one last chance, clown. Get the ship and men ready, and If you fuck this up, it’s over. We don’t need you as much as you think we do.”

Those harsh words echo in Buggy's head as soon as they leave Crocodile's mouth. We don’t need you as much as you think we do… 

If they’re going to kill him, they might as well get it over with. “Just kill me already.” Buggy sobs, but he has no idea if either of the two can even understand him, he’s pretty much a blubbering mess at this point. What’s the point in waiting a whole month and some change? Crocodile’s going to find something, no matter how trivial, to get mad at him about, so why doesn’t he just kill him already and get it over with? His life means nothing, right? They want him dead, right?! 

Crocodile chuckles cruelly, “What do you think, Hawkeye? Should I finish him off now?” So this really is all just a sick game to him, huh? Buggy figured as much. Whatever. If he’s dead then at least he won’t have to deal with these two…

“You’re going to do whatever you please regardless of what I say,” Mihawk sighs, already getting back up from his seat, “I’m growing tired of you both, honestly,” he says, and as soon as he says those words the air in the room grows thick again.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Crocodile frowns. 

“He’s useless and you’re an overconfident fool.” 

“You wanna fucking fight?”

“I don’t. I’m not going to let you waste anymore of my time. Have a good evening, gentlemen.” 

Crocodile looks irate as Mihawk leaves the meeting room, “Arrogant prick,” He complains. He glances over at Buggy for a moment, “You aren’t even worth my goddamn time right now.” He mutters cruelly before getting up from his seat, “Fucking Hawkeye, ruining my meeting…” he grumbles as he follows after Mihawk, or at least that’s what Buggy assumes he’s doing, but he doesn’t really care. 

He stays in his seat, and his vision is blurry as he stares at nothing in particular in front of him, sniffling here and there. So just like that he gets to live another day in terror, huh? Another day with them? He doesn’t get it, why does he have to live and die by their hands? 

“Captain!”

“Captain, Are you okay?!” 

Cabaji and Mohji suddenly burst into the room, catching Buggy off guard and yanking him out of his thoughts. They pull him out of his chair, embracing him tightly. Oh, he doesn’t deserve this kind of warmth…  “Those guys are…” Mohji trails off… 

“Yeah, they’re…are you sure we have to keep them around?” Cabaji whispers, finishing the other man’s sentence. Yeah. Yeah, unfortunately, Mihawk and Crocodile are here to stay, and even after Buggy’s long gone, who knows how long they’ll keep Buggy’s men in their grasp. They could get rid of them in an instant, or keep them until they’ve worked them to death, depending on who gets a say in things.  

“Captain Buggy…Every time I turn around, I see you crying these days.”

“Yeah, Captain, are you sure you’re doing okay?” 

No, of course, Buggy isn’t okay. But he’s…He’s Buggy. He’s a clown, he’s their leader, he’s like a father (or sometimes a God) to his crew… he’s supposed to put smiles on their faces and their fears to rest, he… He forces himself to smile, though his voice is still shaky as he speaks, “A-are you kidding me?! I’d never let those two get to me…” He tells them, but his voice is small, broken, and full of insecurity. 

“Captain…” They both call out at the same time, expressions full of worry as they stare at Buggy and continue to hug him. 

“Hey, forget those guys! It’s getting late, let’s go have some fun!” Mohji suggests with a grin.

“Yeah! We’ll put a smile on your face captain.” Cabaji nods. 

...

Buggy stumbles out of Mohji’s tent, intoxicated and muttering things to himself. Turns out drinking doesn’t always make you feel better, who would have known? Just kidding! He’s well aware that alcohol can’t solve all his problems, or any of them, really. It sure never made the pain he felt once his captain died or Shanks left better…But whatever, he doesn’t want to think about either of them because thinking about them makes him sad, well, sadder, haha.  

He’s always been a rather…emotional drunk and alcohol has never comforted him, and he knows that. He doesn’t even know why he agreed to drink in the first place…But whatever, it’s too late. He’s got whiskey in his system, and he feels worse than he did before he agreed to drink with Cabaji and Mohji as he tries to remember which direction his tent is in. His tent is…Hm… He thinks it’s just south of the docks…Where are the docks again? 

...and what way is south?

Whatever, he'll figure it out. It’s so hard to see around the island during the night… he swears he ordered more lights to be put up…. Or maybe he thought he made that order, Buggy can’t remember right now. Whatever, he’s tired and sad, and he kinda feels sick. No, actually he feels really sick and he can’t tell if he should lie down or find a trash can. Who cares though, nothing matters because…

I’m gonna die soon... 

Tonight might be the last time he ever gets to see Cabaji and Mohji, and Richie too, and he made sure to hug all of them before he left. Crocodile is going to kill him. He’s going to stab him in the chest with his hook! Or throw him into the ocean and let him drown! Or maybe he’ll dry him out like a piece of jerky and leave him to die a slow, painful death! Who knows, there’s just so many things he can do! Maybe he’ll get Mihawk involved. Maybe they’ll both beat him to death and leave him to succumb to his injuries. 

Ha, what a pathetic life he’s lived! He didn’t even get to see the one piece once, but all well, maybe his captain will tell him what it’s like once they meet up together again. He stares up at the night sky. Sweet, there’s a full moon out, he thinks as he takes in his surroundings. The earth seems to tilt and spin as he tries to walk without falling over, and he laughs to himself. if Crocodile and Mihawk saw him right now, they’d call him pathetic and tell him he should just die now before he disgraces his crew further.  

He should just die…?

He should just shut up and die. After all, he’s pathetic, he’s worthless, he’s a sniveling crybaby who can’t do a goddamn thing! Buggy chuckles bitterly again. Oh, man, they’re right. How did he become one of the four emperors of the sea? Surely that title should have gone to one of them instead, or perhaps one of the members of the worst generation? They’ve been causing quite a stir lately… man, even a child would have been more deserving of such a title than him. 

Buggy does make it to his tent, despite the world being wobbly and all, but he pauses before he can go inside. Hm. He turns back around a moment later, heading toward the docks instead after a rather grim idea pops up in his head.

It’s been a fun life or at least the first…fourteen years were. Everything after that one thing was kind of… He doesn’t want to think about it. Orange Town was fun, kinda, he had a fun time running things and making people tremble in fear… What the fuck happened? He used to be so…intimidating. Now he’s a coward who spends the majority of his time crying and hiding from his problems. Fuck, his captain is going to be so pissed at him for letting two assholes come around and ruin his life.

“I’m so sorry,” Buggy mutters quietly. His feet feel heavy as they make contact with the wooden docks below him. Now that he thinks about it, things are quite peaceful right now. He thinks that this is how he’d like to remember Emptee Bluffs Island; as either a beautiful, peaceful island or a cheerful one bustling with life. He doesn’t want to know what'll look like once the Marines get their hands on it nor does he want to imagine it.

As he heads towards the end of the dock, his eyes suddenly notice a large figure that he didn’t originally see, sitting quietly in the moonlight. He sniffles, wiping his eyes slightly and trying to figure out who could possibly be sitting at the end of the dock in the middle of the night. Tall, Broad shoulders, spiky hair…Hawkeye? But…He doesn’t have his sword with him…No, it doesn’t matter, it’s still him, and he realizes that fact a little late because of his current state.

 

“Still crying?” Mihawk asks without even having to look back. How does he know it's him without having to look? Is Buggy really that big of a crybaby that everyone knows it's him crying without having to so much as look in his direction? “I didn’t think that Crocodile had that big of an effect on you.” 

Is he serious right now?! 

Why doesn’t he fucking get it!

This jerk doesn’t even know what it means to be human, he has no idea what Buggy’s feeling right now. He just judges him and criticizes him, and-- Buggy hates him, he hates them. He hates himself. He hates Cross Guild. He hates his fucking life! “You’re really awful,” Buggy blurts, and once he starts airing his grievances he can’t stop, no longer remembering why he even came to the docks in the first place now that he has Mihawk in his sights, “You treat me like a piece of shit and expect me to be fine with it. I hate you.” 

“Are you drunk?” Mihawk asks, glancing over his shoulder at him. 

Yeah, maybe Buggy is drunk? So fucking what? “I’ve never done anything to either of you, and yet you treat me so horribly, and i’m sick of it. I’m so tired of living like this. So, if you’re going to kill me, just do it!” he tells him, voice slurring and raising slightly, “You want me dead so bad, don’t you? I’m worthless and cowardly, aren’t i? You’re sick of me, aren’t y–”

Mihawk sighs, and if Buggy were sober he would be able to recognize the signs that indicate that Hawkeye is growing irritated, and get the hell out of there but he’s piss drunk and he just doesn’t care. “Be quiet, will you?” Mihawk orders him, turning back around and looking up at the night sky.

“No! I’m tired of being quiet. I’m tired of being bossed around, i’m tired of being told i’m useless, i’m tired of being beaten within an inch of my life. You do know that i’m human too, right? Or do you just not care?” 

“Did you come here looking for an apology?” Mihawk asks, a hundred times more calm, cool, and collected than Buggy could ever hope to be. 

“Who gives a fuck about an apology!? I just want it all to end. I hate you so much.” 

“You’ve made that clear.”

You’ve made that clear? That’s all he can say? No apologies? No arguments? No beating him? Nothing now? Now Buggy's unworthy of even getting his ass beat? “I fucking hate you.” Buggy repeats, this time with more emotion in his voice. Mihawk might not care, but Buggy still wants him to know how much he hates him and how much he’s ruined his life. 

“...”

“What did i do to you?! We hardly know each other.” 

“...”

“Oh, so now you’re not going to say anything? After everything you’ve said, now you want to be quiet? I hate you, i hate you, i hate you.”

“Buggy, go to bed. I’m not going to fight you.”

Why?! Why is it the one time Buggy finally gets to say what’s on his mind, he’s instantly being dismissed? Why does he have to go to bed when his heart is pounding and he has so much adrenaline that he feels like he can run a full marathon? “You fight me all the time. Wait, no, no no, we don’t fight. You just beat the shit out of me because i’m beneath you. What’s different this time, huh? Why don’t you want to deal with me now?” 

Mihawk gets up from where he’s sitting with a groan, “Just go to bed, you’re drunk and i don’t feel like dealing with you.” He raises his hand, and Buggy’s drunk brain starts screaming that he’s going to get hit again, and he closes his eyes, flinching, waiting for Mihawk to hit him or punch him. 

But he doesn’t.

Mihawk puts his hands on Buggy’s shoulder and spins him around, shoving him forward, “Go.” he orders sternly, and Buggy listens this time, sniffling and crying as he returns back to his sleeping quarters for the night.  

He just hates him so much…

((A/n: No, listen... I know they're horrible to him. i can fix them. TRUST ME. Also no one asked but i got rid of that plot line where Buggy's like uwu i wanna go after the one piece too now that my ex is after it bc... like that aint got shit to do with this story.))

[13eyond13]

actually stunned by how gay The Beatles has been all this time and I just never knew

[bibleofficial]

TAKE THE HINT 😭😭

it’s bc that was the WORST ‘date,’ u took 3 hrs SHOWERING while i WAITED, & then gave me CHLAMYDIA 😭😭😭

[byuntrash101]

the drill

reader x switch!yunho ft. wooyoung and mingi smut | mdni 6.8k yunho cant seem to pick up anyone at the club. for two main reasons, two problems if you will. the first one: his rizz level is negative and the second one... well it's bigger. much, much bigger. a huge problem wooyoung has named "the drill"

nsfw tags under the cut

alcohol consumption, ons to lovers (?), yunho's kind of a loser but so are you, mingi is a fuck boy, woo is the annoyingly clairvoyant friend <3, switch dom leaning!yunho, pushing the monster cock!yunho agenda (consider this fic a peer reviewed academic study), no but seriously he's H.U.G.E., size training, oral (m & f), very difficult blowjob (because duhh), choking on cock (duh x2), a dash of spit kink, fingering, pet names (baby, good girl), praising, protected sex (good job kids), bulge kink, slight edging, slight begging (not my fic without it lol), slight cumplay

a/n: i had a blasttt writing this im pretty happy with this i hope you will enjoy reading it too. thank you @cybrsan for beta reading this. you are so kind and i learned a lot <3

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Yunho didn't even know why he stood here. He didn't know how he let Wooyoung and Mingi drag him to yet an other party. To this packed night club while he originally invited them over to play league of legends, maybe drink a couple of beers and chill. Cause that's what he wanted to do. He wanted to spend a quiet night in, hearing Mingi complain about how he didn't want to play healer anymore and having Wooyoung shatter his eardrums with that infuriating hyena laugh of his.

And that? That was the exact complete opposite of it.

There was nothing quiet and chill about this night. Only one thing was still on the order of business. His ear drums were being damaged beyond repair, not by the high pitched laugh but by the loud and bass boosted blaring noise music. He could already feel the headache coming in.

Yunho brought the lukewarm and flat beer to his lips. He finished the drink with a grimace before setting it on the edge of the bar, his eyes scanning the amalgamation of sweaty bodies grinding and pressing against each other.

"Why the long face?" Wooyoung asked as he slipped to his tall friend's side.

Yunho sighed and chose to answer the question with another one.

"Why did you bring me here again?" He asked, round eyes turning sharp as he peered at the younger man.

"Oh I don't know," Wooyoung started sarcastically. "Maybe to drag you out of your cave for once?" He replied in disbelief, he should be grateful he’s being such a good friend to him!

Yunho only rolled his eyes and grunted in annoyance at his response. Why did he care this much that he enjoyed staying in and being on his own? 

"Look at Mingi," Wooyoung said over the music. Yunho followed his gaze to glance at his other friend on the other side of the club. "He knows how to have a good time!" Wooyoung said with a smirk.

Yunho quirked his eyebrow as he observed Mingi chatting up not one but two girls. Whispering something in one girl's ear while he curled his arm around the waist of the other one. Making them both giggle and look up at him while he peered at them over his sunglasses. 

Mingi was Yunho’s friend. Maybe even his best friend but… he looked like a douche.

"What kind of guy wears sunglasses inside… at night?" Yunho spat.

"The kind that gets bitches," Wooyoung remarked, jabbing at Yunho. 

"Fuck off Woo," Yunho barked at him. 

Yeah so what? Yes it had been a hot minute since he found himself being… intimate with a girl but it wasn't his fault! It was only because of his… issue…

"Come on dude. You don't have to stay bitchless, you know?" Wooyoung nudged his tall friend. "Why don't you try your luck with one of the dozens of women here that came for the same thing as you?"

"I," Yunho emphasized. "Did not come for that." He cleared his throat. "And you know I never get very far Woo!" He barked again. Truthfully Wooyoung was getting on his nerves.

"Bro! There's no way you can't find just ONE girl here that would be willing to take on the drill?"

Yunho shushed him and looked around him frantically as if anyone could have heard him over the blaring music.

"I already told you not to call it that!!" Of course Wooyoung only laughed at his friend's concern.

"I'm sorry but it's only the truth. Like that massive thing can only be handled by a licensed professional." He laughed again.

"Fuck off!" Yunho repeated, unconsciously crossing his hands over his lower half. 

“No, but seriously. You just gotta find one that matches the vibe,” Wooyoung said, his eyes narrowing into a sly frown. His gaze wiped over the crowd while Yunho only sighed, turning his back to his friends to go get another beer. 

“Wait,” Wooyoung gripped on his shirt before Yunho had the time to flee his friend’s ridiculous plan. “What about this one?”

The tall man followed Wooyoung’s finger pointing at a girl sitting at the bar, seemingly alone and absentmindedly stirring the mint leaves in her mojito.

“Woo, can you please shut up for a second while I get myself another overpriced beer and try to forget about this conversation forever? Thank you!” Yunho said, exasperated and turning on his heels again.

“No, no, no! Dude,” Wooyoung called him out again, holding his friend by his side. The shorter man rolled his eyes at his tall friend’s stubbornness. “I really have a good feeling about her.” Wooyoung insisted.

“And why is that?” Yunho asked, obvious mockery underlining his tone.

“Look at her, man!” Wooyoung pointed, choosing to completely ignore his friend's sarcasm. “She’s slumping over the bar counter, she’s been stirring her mojito for the past ten minutes but hasn’t had a single sip of it. She keeps looking over at Mingi with a scornful pout and look! In a second she’s gonna check her watch again.” he paused for a second. “See!!” Wooyoung exclaimed and turned to his friend who looked rather unimpressed. “She’s like you, man! She does not want to be here and she’s at least as lonely as you.”

Yunho frowned at the younger man, that last bit was totally unnecessary. 

“Plus, she’s pretty! I know she’s your style.” Yunho frowned in an attempt to deny Wooyoung but it was true. Wooyoung felt like he was gaining the upper hand in the negotiations so he continued.

“You should go talk to her. Just talk!” Wooyoung added when he saw Yunho open his mouth to protest again. “I mean just talk, see if it goes anywhere and if it doesn't, then it doesn’t and I promise I’ll kick Mingi’s ass back into the car and drive us all home right that second!” He pledged.

Yunho looked over again at his tall friend and his two targets of the night. Even though Mingi was considerably taller and bulkier than Wooyoung he knew about the latter’s determination and sheer force of will that would turn any wolf into a sheepish puppy. So he didn’t doubt one second that he would be doing just that.

But first at had to “shoot his shot” with… you.

The girl moping at the bar, as if a rain cloud was perpetually following her around. And there was a good reason for it. You recently got dumped. Your friends took you out to this club to celebrate and hopefully get you over him. Truthfully, you had felt relieved because Jongho was just a jerk to you and you have been slipping out of love for a while but still! It hurt that you had to come to the realization that it was over for real this time around.

Granted you were in fact single but you were not so ready to mingle…yet. At some point in the evening they got tired of trying to cheer you up and just left you at the bar to enjoy the company of your little rain cloud by yourself.

“You don’t look like you’re having a great time either,” Yunho said, ordering another beer for himself. The deep voice pulled you out of your day dreaming as you looked up at him with round eyes. “Can I sit here?” he asked and you nodded silently. He didn’t let it show but he’s actually kind of relieved you didn’t turn him down on the spot.

“Yeah I'm not having the time of my life that’s for sure,” you sighed, clinking the melting ice cubes against the glass with your soggy paper straw.

“Why?” Yunho asked while casually wiping his sweaty palms over his distressed jeans.

You bit your lip. Trauma dumping about your not-so-prince-charming jerkface of an ex to a total stranger wasn’t probably the best idea in the world even if the alcohol in your system said otherwise, luckily you still had far too few drinks to start this conversation. So you opted for the easy going explanation.

“My friends ditched me for Mr. Tall-Douchebag over there.” 

Yunho followed your gesture to Mingi bending over to whisper something in a girl's ear as he slid his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose while his other hand held onto the other girl’s bare waist, rubbing his thumb on her skin as she giggled, the cropped top she was wearing not concealing the patch of skin there.

Mingi was Yunho’s friend but he was also a dog. And that was just the plain truth despite the fact that their friendship went back to middle school.

“Yeah that guy looks like an asshole,” Yunho said in all sincerity.

“No shit,” you scoffed “What kind of giga chad wears sunglasses in a club… at night?” you rolled your eyes in disbelief and finally brought your straw to your lips to take a sip of the diluted mojito.

Yunho started to laugh. Maybe Wooyoung wasn't wrong after all. There was something about you that was right for Yunho, somehow your vibes matched. He even started to relax ever so slightly next to you.

“But did you say ‘either’?” you questioned. “Does that imply you too are not having a grand ol’ time?”

Yunho chuckled humorlessly.

“Well, no. Not really,” he confessed as he grabbed the beer the barman was handing out and shoved a couple of wrinkled bills in his hand in exchange.

You returned the mojito to the bar counter and turned to him, now that he was seeing you a little better you were indeed pretty, prettier than what the bar’s red and purple neons were leading on from a distance. But up close Yunho realized Wooyoung was right about that too, you were his type. 

He swallowed thickly, your undivided attention brought back a sense of nervousness into him and he sipped on his beer for a small dose of liquid courage. “I invited a couple of my friends over and we were supposed to stay in and play League but instead they ganged up on me and dragged me here,” he sighed. 

That was the truth! Yunho only carefully omitted all the parts where his friends made him sound like a lonely loser. So that wasn’t a lie! It was curated truth. He sipped on his beer once again to ease his nerves.

You gasped loudly and Yunho’s eyebrows arched in surprise at your reaction.

“Oh I wished I would have done that too,” you pouted, before taking another sip. “And how did they convince you to end up here then?” you asked once again, setting the glass down and looking up at the tall brunette seated next to you.

Uh oh.

That was bad. Yunho wasn’t actually the best at performing under pressure. And especially when said pressure was looking at him with beautiful shiny lips and such a wholesome and genuine smile.

“Well I-...uh,” Yunho started to stammer which seemed to entertain you as the genuine smile turned into an amused little grin. The tall man brushed his long bangs back in an attempt to regain his composure which worked to some extent. “I’ve been on my own for a while, too long if you listen to my friends and they said that maybe they could find me a nice girl to… keep me company,” he said before clearing his throat and attempting to push the lump in his throat back with two large gulps of cool beer.

Wow, that was lame. So much for not sounding like a total loser…

“And I'm the nice girl you settled for?” you asked, breaking eye contact. Yunho felt uneasy again, he couldn't make of your expression right there. Did he blow his chance by being too sincere with you? And why did he feel so bad that he just might have? Did he want to impress you that bad? When initially he only wanted to exchange a couple of sentences just to call it quits and get Wooyoung to drive him home but now was he actually trying?

“Too honest maybe?” Yunho said before pinching his lip between his teeth as you shrugged nonchalantly and took another sip. 

Yes, maybe a little too honest indeed you thought as you sipped on the drink that was basically only water at this point. You were just another girl that was to be used to feel a little less lonely…

“Ughh. I suck at this,” Yunho groaned in frustration.

“At what?” you asked, his tone peaking your curiosity right when you thought you had figured him out.

“At this!” Yunho said, gesturing at the air between the both of you. “At chatting up pretty girls! At flirting!” He sighed again, feeling defeated.

Key word: pretty. 

You grinned, you too felt lonely and you figured there was no harm in helping each other out. For tonight at least.

“It’s okay,” you said, suddenly wrapping your hand around his, tightly holding the beer pint. Which made him stiffen in the uncomfortable bar stool. “I don't really like the smooth talkers anyways.” You sent him a cheeky wink and Yunho felt like his stomach had somehow acquired a trampoline. 

“Really?” he said, lips going round in surprise, eyes snapping to where you were rubbing small circles on the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, satisfied with the effet this simple touch had on him. “I’m not really into fuck boys,” you said, gesturing to the tall man in sun glasses once more.

Yunho knew you were referencing Mingi again but he didn’t have it in him to peel his eyes off you to look at him. His eyes traveled from your hand, up the curve of your arm, to the low neckline of your beautiful black dress (where he stayed longer than he intended) and finally (with much effort) to your own eyes fixated in his. Yunho was mesmerized, like a shipwrecked sailor being bewitched by the chant of a siren, like a parched pariah catching sight of an oasis on the horizon after days of wandering in the desert. 

“So…” he started hesitantly, his heart beating against his ribs and resonating in his ears. “If I offered you a ride home to get out of this hell hole and get to know each other, would you maybe say yes?” 

It wasn’t a coincidence that Yunho spoke in the conditional tense. He didn’t want to jinx himself, he never was the superstitious kind but as he was experiencing this streak of luck with you he found himself to be. 

You chuckled again at his cuteness. 

“Yes,” you said, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously. “Yes, I would.”

***

It wasn't long before you found yourselves tangled up into each other on your couch, your last drinks getting warm on the coffee table, barely even touched.

To your surprise, Yunho’s hold was gentle and patient. You felt comfortable in his arms as his warm and large palm gently pressed against your nape. His soft lips finding yours and pulling you in this delicate kiss, almost like a good morning kiss. It isn't rushed at all, like he has the whole day (or in this case night) to get to know you and to give you a thousand more. If he really was as touch deprived as he claimed to be he wasn't letting it on at all.

That raised suspicion on your side and you broke the kiss. Immediately Yunho’s eyes fluttered open and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worry taking over his features again.

“So,” you start, slightly shifting in his hold. “Tell me why you said you weren’t good at flirting again?” you say as you plant a soft kiss in the crook of his neck, making his Adam's apple bobble in his throat. He could feel himself getting hard and you felt his fingers lightly twitch around your nape. “Because to me it seems like you are pretty good at it.” You licked a large swipe on his blazing skin and drew back to look at him. “I mean, less than an hour ago I was moping on my own in the club…” you slipped your hand up his shirt to undo the first button. “And now I'm all over you, kissing you and about to do much more,” you whispered softly. The promise of what’s to come had Yunho’s length jumping between his thighs. 

“I thought you’d be all over me, tearing my clothes off the second I got to lock the doors. But there you are taking your sweet time. It doesn't add up.” You popped off another button and slipped your hands over his collar bone.

Yunho was torn between the heat that pooled in his stomach with every single one of your touches and the actual dread he felt to move things forward. Because he knew all too well what usually happened at this point of the story. 

And although it was actually fear that kept him from tearing every single article of clothing clean off your body, you mistook it for some kind of elaborate plan to get you alone.

“I’m actually pretty nervous, that's why I haven’t done… a lot more,” he said, hesitantly.

“About what, baby?” you cooed, latching your lips on his skin again, earning a cute little whimper, your fingers working their way down to the last couple of buttons still holding his shirt together.

The pet name made Yunho’s heart sing, thousands of butterflies launching in his stomach, sending waves of tingles towards his groin. 

“Because this is usually where it stops.” He let out a shaky breath as you pushed the cotton off one of his shoulders and let your fingertips drag across his soft skin, going down to his collarbone to his pecs to his abs. “Because the girls usually leave at this point.”

“Why?” you said, lips still pressed to his skin, hands reaching the button of his jeans.

“Because I’m…” Yunho hissed as your other hand came in to play with his nipple while you still went down, your hand brushing over the jeans. “Because I’m too big.”

There. He said it.

This coincided with the moment your hand laid over the colossal bulge in Yunho’s pants. You couldn't help but to stop everything, you stayed there frozen upon your discovery.

Yunho could only close his eyes shut as he felt you immobile all of a sudden. 

Well, it was fun while it lasted at least.

“I can go if you want me to,” he said as neutral as possible, but he couldn't help but let disappointment tint his voice. He can’t explain why but it felt different this time, he really wanted it to work with you. He wanted you.

“No!” you said as you held onto him when he shifted to get out of your hold and onto his feet. “Wait,” your fingers gliding over the bulge, moving once more. Instantly he sat down again against you. You cupped him, gauging the size and evaluating the challenge at hand, said challenge generously spilling out of your grasp as it could not be contained within your palm.

“We could at least try, right?”

“Really?” he exclaimed, before letting out a choked gasp as your grip grew a little tighter.

“Yeah,” you sighed, still gently rubbing over his hard on. “I’m determined and stubborn and my parents didn't raise no quitter,” you said, trying to throw some humor onto this to deescalate the situation and it did the trick.

“The only thing is… I don't think I have a condom that would fit you,” you say, suddenly bashful.

“Oh… hm. I brought mine” Yunho started to pat his pockets hastily. “It’s in my wallet, in my vest, in the… car,” he said, voice growing quieter as he realized he will have to go get it.

You then hopped on your feet. Yunho's hips instinctively bucking up, chasing the friction.

“How about you go get it and come back to meet me in the bedroom?”

Yunho only nodded vigorously before you turned on your feet and walked to one of the closed doors of the hall, he couldn't stop his eyes from falling down to look at your ass roll in the black dress as you walked away. You turned back before disappearing behind the door.

“Don't take too long, ok?” you teased him with a smile.

Yunho didn’t need more to snap him out of his trance and run, no, fly to his car. He barged in the hallway of the apartment complex, not even trying for the elevator, he knew with his long legs he'd be faster if he took the stairs. So he flew over the two flights of stairs and ran to his car to practically rip the wallet from the inner pocket of his coat and stuffed the condom in his back pocket before swallowing the two flights of stairs again and coming back into the apartment, short of breath. 

As afraid as he was a couple of minutes ago to go faster with you, now every second where he didn't have you to himself felt like an eternity.

The apartment was completely dark except for a ray of light that was coming from under the door you disappeared behind. Yunho velvet traded across the living room to the hall and to the door, guided by the line of light, the golden thread he ought to follow to reach heaven.

He delicately pushed in. And he felt like he had opened Pandora's box. He found you completely nude, waiting cross legged on the edge of your bed for him. The dim light from the nightstand sweeping across your form and casting the otherworldly shadow of your divine outline onto the wall. You were absolutely sublime. A sight that went straight to his groin, pumping brand new and boiling blood to his half hard member. 

You sat up straight putting both your feet flat on the ground as Yunho approached you. You held your palm flat to him without a word and he handed over the magnum condom in a black and gold packaging. You settled it on the nightstand before bringing your attention back to the elephant (quite fitting term) in the room. 

Now that he was standing close to you and you were really at eye level with the thing you were really getting a feel for it. Yunho was indeed really big, the thick outline of his length progressed way down his pant's leg making it impossible to miss. 

You gently undid the button of his jeans and pulled on his zipper, the vibrations on his length making him frown, completely entranced by your hand moving on him.

You hooked your fingers onto the waistband of the pants and his underwear and very gently pulled the fabric down, Yunho’s open shirt still floating as his sides. Gradually you had a peep at the trimmed hair of his pubic bone and then you uncovered the base of his cock. He was incredibly girthy and it only got bigger as you continued to pull on his pants. It was only when you were mid thigh that the member sprung free infront of your face and you audibly gasped at the size. 

The girthy member sat heavily between Yunho’s thighs, the tip an angry shade of red and profusely leaking at the slit. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't have masked how eager he was for you. His cock has been leaking ever since you got in his car and he got to smell your flowery perfume without the parasitizing smell of smoke and alcohol from the club. But that he couldn’t possibly say out loud.

He held his breath when you wrapped both your hands around his base, his cock twitching at the minimal contact of your fingers interlaced around him. You were still measuring him, getting an idea. He was as long as your forearm and as thick as your fist. 

In other words, he was ridiculously big. If he had said one hour ago when you were back at the club that he was walking around with a literal third leg you would have laughed in his face and left him there. But now that you were seeing it with your very eyes, it was different.

Yunho grew nervous as you stayed there eyeing him down with this puzzled expression.

“So what do you say?” He asked, his toes wiggling on the carpeted floor nervously. 

You didn’t even say anything back, only aimed the tip at your lips and started to lick around the sensitive cock head. Yunho emitted the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, a deep sigh of relief and pleasure as he let his head roll back, his large palm instantly finding your hair to intertwine his fingers with it.

You licked around the tip thoroughly, earning more airy sighs from the brunette before you pursed your lips and sent a big wad of spit on his length. Making him moan a little clearer as you dragged your warm spit down to his base with both hands. You spat again to make sure to lubricate him thoroughly, before taking him in your mouth.

As soon as your lips wrapped around the tip, you heard Yunho softly curse from above you. Your lips stretched around the girthy tip with difficulty and slid down as far as you could manage until he hit the back of your throat, and you weren’t even halfway through. 

But Yunho didn't mind, it was the first time somebody even got that far and he swore he could have cum just by the look you gave him when your eyes snapped back to him and he saw your pretty face stuffed full of his fat cock, hair slightly disheveled by his doing, eyes glazed over with unspilled tears and your beautiful lips stretched to an unbelievable extent. 

You felt him twitch on your tongue before you popped him out, taking a deep breath and going down again. His free hand dipped down to play with your breasts, he cupped them and flicked your hardened nipples a couple of times making you moan on his cock. 

“Fuck baby,” he breathed. “Your mouth feels so good,” he panted. The praise made you confident enough to push your head a little further down, his cock reaching down to a brand new depth inside your throat.

“Fuckkkk,” Yunho sighed his hand on your hair holding you there for a second, just long enough for him to feel your gag reflex triggering and your throat clamping down on his cock trying to reject the massive foreign object that was obstructing your air pipe. When he pulled out again long strings of thick saliva linked your red and swollen lips to the raging tip of his cock and you coughed a couple of times, choking, the air burning your sore throat.

“Need you on my tongue right now. Wanna taste you,” he whispered as he practically tore the shirt off his shoulders and slipped out of his pants. He carefully pushed you towards the bed so you would be laid on your back and very gently his big hands wrapped around your thighs to pull them apart to finally lay eyes on your center. 

Yunho licked his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening folds covered with your slick, the transparent liquid cascading from your entrance and running down your thighs, some even staining your bedding. He swiped a single finger on your slit, gathering some of your arousal.

“Fuck, baby you got this wet just by having my cock in your mouth,” Yunho smirked when he noticed you twitched at his words. So you liked a little dirty talk, that was good to know. He brought the digit covered with your essence to his mouth, moaning against his own fingers as your sweet and velvety nectar enveloped his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste so good.”

Yunho pulled on your hips so your ass would sit at the edge and he kneeled on the ground. He planted a couple soft kisses on your inner thighs and pubic bone, making you squirm, itching to be touched in the right places. Maybe next time he’ll make you beg for it but today he needed you as much as you needed him.

He gently wrapped his mouth around your clit, taking the swollen bud into his mouth and sucking on it gently. Your reaction was immediate, it has been quite a long time since you have felt the touch of somebody else and Yunho was good at what he was doing. 

He went down to dip his tongue inside of you, parting your folds with his tongue and tasting the deepest parts of you, you arched your back and let his name fall off your lips.

“Aaah, hmph… Yun-ho,” you struggled to say as you unconsciously started to roll your hips against his face, smearing your juices over his cheeks and chin.

The way you called out his name and fucked yourself back on his face, shamelessly using his mouth to chase after your high had him leaking on the floor, as his aching cock sat heavily between his thighs.

That’s when he chose to stick two long fingers inside your tight heat, making you moan louder and stop dead in your tracks. You don't know how he managed that but he somehow found the perfect angle right away, curling the two digits right into your sweet spot, so you stayed put, exactly where you were while he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

He alternated between fast strokes then slower ones when he rolled his fingertips inside you teasing your g spot, to then go back to the quicker pace. Taking you on this rollercoaster of pleasure where he made you go up and down but never to your peak. 

Yunho had no intent on making you cum, at least not right now, now he only wanted to prep you to take him inside you. He was stretching you out as much as possible to make sure he could fit his huge cock inside your tiny little pussy. 

You had figured out that much but that didn’t keep you from slowly growing frustrated and therefore hungry for more. Much more.

So he slipped a fourth finger in.

At this point your body was covered with a light sheen of sweat making you beautifully glisten as the dim night stand lamp shone on you. 

You gasped at how full you felt, arching your back, your hands fisting the sheets as you called his name again.

“You’re doing so good.” He pressed a soft kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “My good girl,” he cooed before he started to swirl his tongue around your clit, making your cunt clamp harder around his fingers.

You felt yourself throb at the possessive pronouns. You both knew you weren’t his. But for the both of you it was what felt good. You’ll have plenty of time to feel lonely again in the morning. Just for tonight you belonged to each other. 

Your hands flew between your thighs where your fingers untangled with the long strands of brown hair, tugging at it, your frustration getting the best of you. 

Yunho enjoyed the dull burn on his scalp as he kept on abusing your swollen bud, sucking, licking and flicking it. Until he felt you throb on his tongue. But before he could finish you he felt you pull on his hair hard enough for him to look up at you.

You were panting, your chest heaving up and down, disheveled from thrashing your head around and pushing it back into the mattress.

“Wanna cum on your cock,” you urged, panting, as plainly as that. After all of this teasing, you wanted to save your appetite for the main course. 

Yunho could have bursted and cum all over the carpet with just those words. But instead he got back up and grabbed the rubber from your night stand, tearing the wrapper away and rolling the condom down his huge cock.

When he came back between your thighs he laid his cock on your stomach, and that's when you fully understood what you got yourself into. The sheer weight of the thing was in itself impressive but that was nothing compared to the size of it. It reached all the way to your midriff, the massive thing laying menacingly on your bare, sweaty skin.

Yunho then took the thick base in his hand and rubbed his tip at your entrance, coating it with your slick.

“You ready?” he asked, cheeks taking a pink hue, flashing you the most adorable of coy smile as if he wasn’t tongue fucking you a second ago. You only nodded, bracing yourself. Scared but foremost eager to be filled up again.

“Try to breathe, okay?” he advised right before he started to push himself inside you. Instinctively you let out a whine at the way your walls stretched around him as he gradually, very gently pushed his huge cock inside. You caught your lip between your teeth as your brows met on your forehead. Yunho was very attentive and didn't blink once to make sure he could read your micro expressions, so he could adapt the pace. He knew when to let you take a breather and when to keep pushing in. So when you let out a small cry and your hips jerked upwards slightly, he stopped.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, soft voice laced with concern. 

“Well the obvious answer is yes.” You chuckled softly at his adorable worried expression. “But at the same time… It feels so good,” you said, half whispering, half moaning. And you felt his cock twitch inside you.

That was the very first time somebody has ever said that to him. He would lie if he said he didn't like that.

“Please keep going,” you said, whiny tone bordering on begging. 

“Fuck baby,” Yunho breathed out. “Say that again.” His voice was somewhat urgent.

“Please Yunho, fill me up, I wanna feel you all inside of me.”

Yunho cursed under his breath again. He didn't need more to push the last couple of centimeters inside you. And just like that you’re full of him. He flipped both of your legs on his sturdy shoulders and leaned forward to kiss you. The softness is masked by the state of extreme urgency in which you both find yourselves in, the kiss is messy, sloppy, heated. Your teeth grazing against each other before you stuck your tongue out to let Yunho suck on it, you taste yourself on his tongue making you light headed before you bit on Yunho’s bottom lip to let it snap back against his teeth.

“Please fuck me,” you whispered against his teeth.

“Anything for you, baby.” 

He started to pull out gently and pushed in again, with each thrust he went faster, his large frame still laid over you as he fucked you in the mating press. The position was just perfect, with both his feet firmly on the ground, Yunho had great control over his movements and could easily adjust the pace as a plus the angle was absolutely divine.

You whined and whimpered and cried with each stroke, his big cock perfectly brushing and poking at your soft spot, deep, deep inside you. A spot nobody had ever been able to reach, not even yourself. The new found source of pleasure made you cry out in bliss, your cunt taking a vice grip around Yunho’s huge cock.

“Fuck,” you yelped. “You’re so…aaah… big,” you moaned. “Feel so good inside me. Please keep going. Fuck me please,” your words were slurred, you barely made any sense but it didn’t matter. Yunho knew exactly what you meant.

“You’re so good, baby. So good to me.”

He moaned against your mouth, prying your jaw open with his thumb and letting his tongue slip into your mouth, his warm spit running down your tongue. You swallowed his saliva, along with each of his pants and grunts. The way you felt around him was surreal, your wet sopping cunt coating him with your slick making it so easy to slip in and out of you, so much so that at some point he found himself absolutely drilling into your cunt completely losing himself inside you. The lewd wet noises bouncing off the small dark room as he rearranged your guts.

“I won't last for long,” he whined, eyes closing shut as he tried his best not to burst.

“I’m almost there,” you said, your legs tensing up and wrapping around Yunho’s hips.

He stood back up straight and put one hand on your waist firmly gripping your side to pull you back on his cock every time he thrusted in. Admiring the outline of his cock poking inside of your stomach creating a visible bulge with every snap of his hips. He laid his large hand over your stomach, lightly pressing, making you yelp and feeling every come and go as his thumb found your swollen and throbbing clit.

The sudden pleasure made you cry out a sob. Yunho started to play with your clit as he was deep inside your guts. Drawing tight circles on it, teasing it so perfectly that you grew even tighter around him.

“Please be my good girl and cum for me,” he said in a strangled moan, knowing he could only last for a few more seconds. Snapping his hips into yours, making your tits jump with each powerful thrust. “God please, please cum,” he begged in a desperate little whimper, as he wanted nothing than to make you cum but he also knew he could only keep up for a few more agonizingly long (at least to him) seconds.

That's when you crossed the edge, your walls fluttered around his big cock as you reached your peak, white heat radiating from your core to each of your limbs, making your body shake uncontrollably and your cunt grip into Yunho’s length like its life depended on it. You were completely delirious with pleasure, the earth shattering orgasm washing over you and convincing you the monstrous cock plowing into you had definitively ruined you for anyone else. You didn’t see how you could ever be satisfied again with any other cock.

The twitch of your cunt is Yunho’s queue to finally let go as well. He pulled out of you and ripped the condom away. He only had to give it a couple of strokes before cumming all over you. Thick white ropes of burning hot cum spurting out of his slit and crashing on your heated skin. Yunho had never cum so hard, his cock is like an open tap. Squirting cum all over your stomach, your tits and some powerful spurts even reaching your pretty face, which you hurriedly lick off your lips and chin. Making Yunho’s huge cock twitch in his balled fist.

He nearly collapsed when he’s done, his legs suddenly turning into jelly. But he still managed to haphazardly wander into the bathroom to give you a clean washcloth he found and even goes back to the kitchen to get you a glass of water.

After that he blacked out next to you, completely drained (in more ways than one). You chuckled next to him when you heard him snort softly as you set your still half full drink on the nightstand and switch off the light. Naturally finding your place snuggled up against him.

***

The incessant vibrations of his phone abandoned in the pocket of his jeans was what woke up Yunho the next morning. He got off the bed half asleep and picked the device to answer the call. Because he was still in a daze he didn’t check the caller but he definitely should have when he heard Wooyoung yell at the end of the line.

“SO DID YOU GO BACK TO HER PLACE??? DID SHE SURVIVE THE DRILL?????” he shot out question after question, not taking the time to breathe between each one. Yunho shushed him right away, looking back over his shoulder at your sleeping figure.

“Shut up! she’s sleeping!” Yunho said as he struggled to turn down the volume on his phone.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” the speaker resonated even louder. “Come by to my place we’re going to brunch, you’ll tell me all about it and then I promise I’ll play all the League you want for the rest of eternity!” Wooyoung pledged as Yunho chuckled. That's exactly why he loved him.

“Brunch and then League?” Yunho heard your groggy voice from behind. “That sounds fun…” 

“I’ll call you back,” Yunho briefly said before hanging on a screaming Wooyoung. He beamed at you. 

“Wanna come with?”

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

a/n: oooffff omg that was something. i had so much fun writing this and omg i loved yunho in this he was so cute but hot ughhhhh. tell me if you liked it. that would make me so happy and i will def kiss u if do <3333

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[sonarspace]

KNOCKOUT KISS, SUGURU GETO

CONTENT: friends to lovers. (boxer!suguru x reader). slight violence. nsfw! (not proofread) WC: 6K A/N: back after a long break! hope you guys like this <3

☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸

suguru sits on the bench in his locker room after his boxing match. his face covered in cuts and bruises and his body batttered. despite that, a delirious smile takes place on his face as you approach him with antiseptic swabs and bandages.

his smile is so bright that for a moment, you forget he's covered in blood. "looks worse than it is darling," he rasps, his voice hoarse from exhuastion.

you stand in front of him, carefully tending to his wounds. "you're going to be the death of me, suguru," you mutter, gently dabbing a cut near his lip. he presses his lips against your finger teasingly, earning a glare from you.

"you worry too much," he chuckles. "you've got the money, i don't get why you're still doing this," you retort with a huff.

"adrenaline baby. no high compares to the one i get after winning. hearing the crowd cheer for me. hearing you cheer for me," he smiles his hand rubbing mindless patterns on your waist, his touch warm against your skin.

your eyes lock with his. you gulp, feeling the weight of his stare. you take a step back, your gaze shifts to the wound you've patched. "all done," your voice is slightly unsteady — courtesy of suguru geto's stare.

"thanks, sweet thing," suguru says softly. "let's grab a few drinks and play some pool" he suggests. you could never understand how he could easily bounce back after a fight like the one he just had, acting so casual. sensing your worry, he adds. "i'm fine, i swear".

"i have a date," you reply, your lips pressed into a thin line.

"great. another guy i have to compete with for your attention," he grins, his tone playful yet tinged with jealousy.

"his name is mark. he recently signed a deal with dad. dad said to give it a shot, said it could be good for the company." you sling your purse over your shoulder.

"so a douche bag?" he teases.

"suguru! he's actually sweet. don't be mean," you defend your date. he huffs, rolling his eyes. "when's your next match?" you ask, trying to change the topic.

"next month," he says, eyeing you intensely. "then i'll see you next month," you reply with a warm smile. he lets out a dramatic sigh and stands, his tall frame looming over you. "stay safe," he murmurs, his voice laced with concern and affection.

"don't drink too much. and don't let him push you into doing anything you're not comfortable with," he warns.

"are you done, dad?" you tease, but suguru's expression stays serious. he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your hair and cups your cheek. "just lookin' out for you," he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"see you champ," you say with a smile moving toward the door. suguru nods in return. you step out of the room and take a deep breath.

a month later

the roar of the crowd fills the arena as suguru steps into the ring. he waves at the crowd and then his eyes land on you. you're wearing a sleek black bodycon dress that hugs your curves jut right. his smile fades into a scowl as he notices the man beside you. he quickly masks it, turning his attention back to his opponent.

they touch gloves and return to their respective corners. the bell rings, silencing the crowd. suguru's focus narrows down to the man standing in front of him. whispered conversations flow through the crowd as they wait for the first punch to land.

suguru's gloved hand raises and connects with his opponent's jaw., and the crowd erupts into a chant of his name. but only one voice—yours, matters to him. "YES SUGURU! LET'S GO!!" you cheer.

mark beside you is taken aback by the fervor of your cheer. he claps politely. your squeeze your boyfriend's arm, your gaze fixed on your best friend in the ring.

it's the final round. the decider of the match. suguru is worn out, breathing heavily, his shoulders slumped and his lip cut once again. he sits in his corner taking deep, ragged breaths. his eyes find you again, watching as you whisper something to mark and share a laugh. it's a punch to the gut, more painful than any of the hits he's taken tonight.

the bell rings and both fighters raise their gloves. suguru's attention shifts from his opponent to you. he sees your boyfriend's hands wrapped around your waist. your back pressed to his chest as you cheer, mark's lips pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

POW!

suguru's body jolts back as his face turns from the force of the jab. his ear rings and his vision blurs momentarily. the arena falls into a hushded silence. "suguru!" you shout, reaching out instinctively as if your hand could somehow bridge the distance and stop the blow.

"mark, wait. let me go," your voice quivers with desperation as suguru's figure wavers before you. mark's grip tightens, holding you firmly against him. "where would you go?" he taunts, the amusent in his voice deepening your frustration.

the metallic taste of blood fills suguru's mouth. he spits it out, straightens up and touches his jaw, trying to refocus. his gaze drifts between you and his opponent. he notices your anxious expression and the way you're straining against mark's grasp.

mark's hold on you slackens, allowing you to step away. but before you can react, he grabs your chin and pulls you into an unexpected kiss. your eyes dart between you're boyfriend and suguru, who narrows his gaze and then delivers a hard blow, knocking out his opponent.

as suguru's eyes meet yours, he smiles through blood stained lips. strands of his hair fall loose from his thight bun, framing his face. he raises his fist in victory and the crowd erupts in applause.

you pull back from the kiss, clapping and cheering his name along with the crowd. he stands there grinning, looking like an angel—a bloody and sweaty angel. your bloody, sweaty angel. the thought tugs at your heart with a bittersweet pang at the reminder of what could've been, but you quickly push it away.

your boyfriend squeezes your shoulders, "looks like he won after all, huh?" he says, half amused.

"he always does," you smile, proudly. "let's go to the bar. i'll ask him to come meet us over there."

you make your way to the bar, exctied to introduce suguru to the man you're quickly getting close to. you wait for twenty minutes and then text suguru. "hey. you coming? we're at the bar."

he sighs as he reads the message. his body aches, his head throbs, and perhaps his heart aches too. the win feels hollow without you there to patch him up like you usually do. he contemplates just leaving but he knows how much you were looking forward to this. the last thing he wants to do is let you down. "be there in five," he texts back.

he rises with a groan and pulls on a black fitted shirt and heads out of his locker room. he makes his way to the bar near the arena. it's packed with people. some of them smile and congratulate him on his win. he returns their smiles but it never reaches his eyes.

he spots you in the corner, your boyfriend’s arm around your shoulders as you chat animatedly. when you see suguru approaching, your eyes light up. with a loud cheer for him, you leap out of your seat and pull him in a tight hug.

suguru stifles a grimace as he tries to return the hug. his head nuzzles into your hair as he breathes in the comforting scent of your shampoo and a wave of calm washes over him.

you introduce the two men to each other. suguru takes a seat across you and mark. a teasing smile on his face as he leans back. "i was really looking forward to your usual post match check up in the locker room," he says with a playful glint in his eye. "did you skip it to make me miss you more?"

mark shifts in his seat, annoyed but keep his comments to himself. you laugh at suguru's playful comment, as the tension you felt earlier between the two of you melts.

as the conversation flows, you try to get mark to speak more but he doesn't comply. eventually you turn to suguru and ask "so, when's your next match?"

"next weekend," suguru sighs with a small smile. "you'll be there right?" he asks.

just as you're about to respond, mark interjects. "actually, we won't be able to make it. we've got dinner with my parents." he puts an arm around you pulling you closer. suguru's smile falters slightly and a flicker of annoyance passes over his face as he hears mark's use of, "we" and the sight of his arm around you.

"oh, i didn't know things were getting serious between the two of you," suguru says, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of hurt.

mark glances at his watch. "we should probably get going. it's getting late and i've got a meeting in the morning," he says to you.

you nod, standing up and smoothing down your dress that had ridden up slightly. suguru's eyes follows the movement but he quickly looks away, a light shade of pink coloring his cheeks.

suguru stands up as well and shakes mark's hand. you squeeze suguru's arm gently, giving him a warm smile. "go home and rest, okay?" you tell suguru.

suguru returns your smile, his eyes soften as he looks at you and nods.

mark places his hand on your waist as he guides you out of the bar and to his car in the parking lot. once you're in the car and on your way, he finally speaks up. "so, you and suguru, huh?" he asks glancing, over at you.

"what about me and suguru?" you ask, tilting your head.

"you looked pretty cozy back there with him," he says, his voice laced with jealousy.

you huff a chuckle. "mark. you know how long we've been friends for, i've told you this".

his irritation deepens, "didn't seem like just friends, back there. with all the flirting and touching. that's not what friends do."

you feel a surge of frustration at his implication of something more. you try to keep your voice steady as you speak "you're making this into a bigger deal than it is. i told you. we're just friends. have been for ages now. that's all."

he's silent for a moment before he speaks up again glancing at you sideways. "that dress," he says his tone dripping with disdain, "it's really something. almost like you're asking for everyone's attention."

the atmosphere in the car tenses. you don't respond instead you look outside the window.

"i don't like you hanging around him" he says. you look at him, taken aback. "what?"

"you heard me. i don't want you being around him, i don't like how he flirts with you and you let him."

"mark. it's not like that," you try to explain. but he cuts you off.

"it doesn't matter what it's like. i'm telling you i don't want you to hang out around him. i know you've been friends for a long time but things change. this isn't just about him- it's about us. you're dating me now."

you feel a wave of frustration and all of a sdduen the thought of being in relationship with someone like him has you feeling nauseous.

"stop the car," you say, your voice cutting through the tension.

mark glances at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. "what? why?"

"just stop the car," you insist.

you step out of the car and mark follows you out. "where the hell are you going?" he demands. he grabs your wrist pulling you between him and against the car. "you think you can just ignore my feelings and walk away? that's not how this works." his voice rises, his eyes flashing anger. "i won’t let you disrespect me like this."

he presses himself further against you, the cold metal pressing to your back felt harsh. "mark," you tried to sound commanding, but your voice trembled with fear.

his hands move to your hips to keep you from moving. his hands move over your body uninvitingly. his touch felt like fire on your body. "you want to be a whore? is that it? want guys to look at you, drool over you. well here i am," he gives you a smile so twisted, it makes your stomach churn.

just as his hand reaches out to touch your face, you act on instinct. with a swift move, you bring your knee up and slam into his groin. the sudden pain is enough to make him double over and a guttural cry escapes his lips as he falls to the ground.

without looking back, you sprint off leaving your heels behind. your heart pounds in your ears. you hear mark's furious shouts echo behind you, "you fucking bitch!" you keep running until the familiar lights of the bar you had just left come into view.

you burst into the bar, dazed and disheveled, breathing heavily. as you push through the crowd, every face blurs together, your only focus on finding the one that offers you comfort and safety.

he’s getting up from the table where you left him not even an hour ago. he pulls on his jacket, turning around as he spots you. his expression shifts from confusion to deep concern as he takes in your appearance. he calls out your name, reaching for you as you half-collapse into him.

"what happened?" he asks, his voice laced with worry as he wraps his arms around your frame keeping you upright.

“suguru... mark... he—he—” you struggle to speak through the tears. suguru’s face hardens with a fury. “i’m going to kill him,” he says, his voice sharp with anger.

"suguru. please, just get me out of here,” you beg, your voice trembling. "okay, okay." he says, his heart clenhing at the hurt and fear laced in your voice. you cling to him as he guides you out of the chaotic space and into his car.

once you’re settled into the passenger seat, suguru’s gaze falls to your feet. he notices the blood staining the undersides. “you’re bleeding,” he says, his voice tight with worry. he opens the glove box and grabs a bunch of tissues, gently wiping the blood from your feet.

“i’ll clean this up properly when we get to my place,” he says softly, his eyes filled with tender concern. he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road. the car is silent except for the hum of the engine. he reaches over and places his hand gently over yours in your lap, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. 

he pulls the car into his designated parking spot. as soon as you step out, you hiss in pain, your feet throbbing. suguru is by your side instantly. he scoops you into his arms, holding you close. his body heat seeps into you as you press your head into his chest. warm and reassuring.

he steps into his penthouse and gently carries you to the bathroom. with careful movements, he sets you down on the counter. he grabs the first aid kit from the cabinet and kneels before you. placing one of your feet on his lap and holding the other in his hand. his focus unwavering as he begins to clean and tend to your wounds.

once he's done, he places a tender kiss to your ankle. his lips soft against your skin. his eyes meet yours as he stands to his full height, towering over you sitting on the counter. "i'll grab you some clothes," he says stroking your cheek.

he helps you into his bed, pulling the sheets over your body. he starts to move away but you grab his wrist. “please, stay,” you whisper. his eyes soften as he nods. he slips under the sheets beside you. you move closer to him and he wraps his arms around you.

as you rest against him, you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing you. he breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “do you want to tell me what happened after you left?”

you recount the night’s events, your voice trembling. tears stream down your face but suguru's quick to wipe them away. "that asshole," he lets out a deep exhale as you finish up.

his arms tighten around you as he pulls you closer. "he'll never be able to hurt you again. i promise," he murmurs against your hair as his hand moves up and down over your back, soothingly.

you spend the week at suguru's penthouse, both of you falling into a comfortable routine. each morning, he heads to the gym to train for his fight before you wake, always leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. he makes sure to return by the time you’re up, so you can spend the rest of the day with you.

the day of the fight.

you weave through the backstage corridors, the noise of the crowd buzzing faintly in the background. you finally find suguru's locker room and knock softly. his coach opens the door, glancing back at suguru. he's seated in a silk robe with his name embroidered on the back, chatting with his team. "suguru, your girl’s here," the coach announces and your heart skips a beat at being called his girl. the coach steps aside to let you in.

suguru looks up. his face breaks into a warm smile and he asks everyone to excuse you both. "there she is," he smiles. he gets up and takes a step towards you, placing his hands on your waist. "you're dressed nice," he murmurs with affection. "looking goreous, darling."

“big day today,” you say with a lighthearted chuckle. “thought i’d dress up for the soon-to-be three-time champion.” suguru’s smile widens, and he chuckles, a blush rising to his cheeks. “it means the world to me that you’re here,” he says, his tone turning serious.

you smile in return. for a moment, both of you simply gaze into each other’s eyes. a knock on the door breaks the silence, followed by a voice calling out, “five minutes till you need to be in the ring, geto!”

he takes a step back, his hands falling away from your waist. "gotta go," his voice is quiet as he moves toward the door.

before he can take another step, you pull him close and press your lips to his. a rush of warmth spreads and floods through both of you. the world around you fades into a blur and time stands still as you feel the softness of his lips. his one hand wraps around your waist, pulling you in close while his other moves to the underside of your jaw, tilting your face upward so he can kiss you better.

before the kiss can turn into something more, he pulls back and rests his head against yours. "fuck," he breathes. "i have to go."

"i know," you squeeze his arm. "win for me." you smile, your eyes twinkling with mirth. "and maybe you'll get more than a championship belt tonight."

he chuckles, the sound low and warm, as he strokes your cheek. “i will,” he says, his voice carrying a promise. he presses a quick kiss to your lips, his thumb grazes your bottom lip before he reluctuanly pulls away and walks out.

after a couple of minutes, you follow him. you find a spot near the crowd, your eyes scanning the ring just as the fight begins. the energy in the arena is electric, every cheer and chant adding to the tension.

the match is intense, with both fighters exchanging heavy blows. suguru's focused, moving with a purpose. by the fourth round, it's over — he lands a hard punch that send his opponent down in the ring, knocked out cold. the crowd erupts in a chant of his name as he stands tall and the ref raises his hand in victory

his eyes meets yours. he points at you with a triumphant grin, pumping his fist. your heart races as a thrill runs through you, imagining what’s coming next. you can’t help but chuckle, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks.

he waves as he exits the ring, then disappears backstage. you chat with his team while suguru wraps up his post-match interviews. just as you’re about to head to his locker room, your phone buzzes with a text from him: “wait by my car. i’ll meet you there.”

a grin spreads across your face as you read the message, excitement fluttering in your chest. you lean against his car, heart racing as you eagerly await his arrival.

suguru walks over proudly holding up his third championship belt. "i told you i'd win!" he declares, his voice laced with victory.

you can't contain your excitement as you rush into his arms with a joyful squeal. he laughs heartily as he lifts you off your feet, holding you close. the weight of the belt presses between you. your laughter mingles with his as you both savor the moment.

he sets you down and quickly drops the belt into the car. then, cradling your face in his hands he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. you melt into the kiss. his hands on your cheeks are warm and gentle. he pulls back slightly, a soft smile playing on his lips as he murmurs “my good luck charm,” against your lips, his voice full of affection and gratitude.

your heart swells with love, but the moment is abruptly interrupted by a distant sound. your smile fades as you see a stumbling figure makes it way towards you and suguru. a cold wave of dread washes over you as you recognize the slurred voice calling your name. "mark," you utter.

suguru's expression hardens as he takes in the sight of mark approaching. he steps in front of you protectively. mark scoffs taking in the sight of you and suguru together. “i knew it. i knew you couldn’t just be friends,” he sneers, his voice thick with bitterness.

you take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. "suguru, please," you say trying to keep your voice steady. "let's just go," you squeeze his arm.

suguru's jaw tightens but he nods. just as you turn to walk away, mark's voice cuts through with degrading edge. "you're just a whore looking for attention from anyone who’ll give it. first it was me and now it's him, huh?"

your heart sinks at mark's cruel words. "suguru!" you go on to grip his hand but his patience snaps. without a second thought he turns around and punches mark. the force of it sends mark sprawling to the ground. a grunt of pain escapes his lips.

mark scrambles back to his feet and lunges at suguru. you watch in horror as they fight. the sound of their fists hitting flesh and bones crunching echoes around you and you're not sure whose it is.

suguru manages to pin mark to the ground. he lands a few more punches, mark's face becoming a bloody. “suguru!” you plead, your voice breaking as tears begin to fall down your face. “stop, let him go!”

suguru finally drops mark and wipes the blood from his hand onto mark's shirt before standing up. mark groans on the ground. suguru takes a few heavy breaths then turns to face you. his expression immediately softens.

he wraps his arms around you, guiding you to the car. you slip inside, still shaken from the encounter. suguru slides into the driver's seat next to you. his hand finds yours with a comforting squeeze.

you take deep breaths as the car starts moving. the drive is quiet as you arrive back at his place. you're both silent as you step into his penthouse. you notice blood seeping between his fingers and you gasp. suguru looks down at his hand and then at you "it's okay, i'm okay," he says.

you shake your head and guide him to the bathroom. gently, you clean his cut and wrap a bandage around his knuckles. suguru watches you with a quiet chuckle. “this feels just like old times,” he murmurs.

“you always playing nurse after my fights.” you glance up at him. “someone’s got to take care of you,” you reply, your tone filled with affection.

his smile deepens reaching his eyes. "i'm glad it's you," he says sincerely. he gently tucks a strand of behind your ear and caresses your cheek.

"i really want to kiss you," he says lowly, his voice filled with longing.

you nod and his lips are on you in an instant. your eyes flutter close and his bandaged hand slips out of your grasp and moves under your jaw tipping your head up for better access.

“i always want to kiss you,” he whispers against your lips, his thumb stroking your bottom lip. your heart flutters at his admission. boldly you part your lips and kiss him again. his tongue slips in your mouth and he groans at the taste of you.

your hands move to the hem of his shirt. "eager," he chuckles stopping your hands. he tuts at your pout. "don't pout." he pulls your bottom lip in between his letting it snap back against your teeth.

"just don't wanna rush and ruin this. don't want you to regret it." he speaks softly, his finger lightly caressing your jaw in a way that feels almost instinctive.

"i won't regret this," you say, your voice a mix of desperation and hope. "want this suguru. want it with you. want you. please?"

"jesus christ," he murmurs under his breath. his hands move to the back of your thighs, carrying you to his bed. he gently sets you down and moves atop you. he parts your legs and sits on his knees in between. with a smirk, he reaches behind his neck and pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion.

you've seen him shirtless countless times before, but seeing him like this—bathed in the soft light of the lamp, every dip and muscle accentuated—feels different. the sight of him, shirtless for you, leaves your throat dry.

"suguru," you say his name in awe.

"sweet girl," he replies softly. "going to make you feel so good, you'll never want anyone else."

his hands move over your shoulders, pulling the straps of your dress down. he tugs the dress further until it stops at your chest, causing you to laugh shyly. "there's a zip on the side," you murmur. he chuckles softly in return. you can feel the way his fingers tremble ever so slightly as he lowers, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

"you're nervous," you state, propping yourself on your elbows. he doesn’t respond, instead focusing on pulling the dress down until it rests at your hips. you lift your hips, allowing him to take it off completely.

his breath hitches as his eyes roam over your body, now only covered by a bra and panties. his hands linger on your hips for a moment, his touch gentle. he meets your eyes, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips. "you're my best friend," he whispers, his tone serious. "we can’t go back from this, you know?"

"i—" he takes a deep breath. "i can't go back to being just your friend after this," he says earnestly.

you reach up and cup his face, grounding him with your touch. "i don't want to go back to being just your friend either" you tell him, your voice steady and warm. "i want to go forward."

he looks at you with a mix of relief and determination, his smile widening as he takes in your words. leaning in, his forehead gently touches yours. “then let’s move forward,” he says softly, pressing his lips to yours. the kiss melts away all his doubts.

his hands shift from your hips to your back. he undoes your bra, he pulls it away from your chest and drops it on the ground beside the bed. he pulls back from the kiss, his smile spreading into a wide grin as he tips his head back and laughs joyfully. he lowers his head back and his eyes glisten with a need you've never seen. "can't believe you've hidden this from me," his hands cup your boobs.

his lips trail acseries of kisses across your. chest. when he reaches your nipple, he wrap his lips around it and sucks it eagerly. he lets out an appreciative moan as his tongue teases and circles around it. his hand explores your other boob, mimicking the movements of his mouth, pinching and rolling your nipple.

the sensation sends a wave of heat rushing betwen your legs making you gasp. your hips arch up, seeking fricition and contact to bring you closer to the relief you crave. he smirks, his mouth still on your nipple before he lets it go with a pop. his lips move lower, kissing your stomach and swirling his tongue around your belly button. he nips softly at your hip, leaving a mark just for him to see later.

he tugs the band of your panties back with his teeth, then lets it snap against your skin making you hiss from the sudden sting. he chuckles at your reaction. you glare at him "stop teasing!"

"okay darling," he grins. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and slides them down over the smooth skin of your legs. his hands brush against the skin of your inner thighs, sending a shiver up your spine.

his lips follow the path of his hands. he bites and sucks the tender flesh of your inner thighs making you moan in pleasure, as your arousal intensifies. his nose nudges against your folds and you instinctively try to close your thigh but he keep them open with a firm grip.

he tuts softly, a teasing smile playing at his lips. “you’re being a bit greedy,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse with desire. “keepin all this sweet stuff for yourself”.

his tongue lolls out to taste you. he hums his eyes fluttering shut as he tastes you at last. he can't help himself but need more. his tongue presses further into you, exploring every fold and contour. he releases a deep moan, the sensation vibrating through your body prompting you to echo it into the room.

your fingers curl into his long hair, gripping the strands tightly as he plunges not one but two fingers into you. "she's so eager," he mumbles talking about your pussy. his lips wraps around your nub, sucking it enthusiastically.

your walls tighten around his fingers making his brain short circuits with thoughts of how you would feel around him. he pulls away trailing kisses up your body. when he reaches your lips, he murmurs, "sorry, pretty. i need to be inside you."

you whimper as he pulls out his fingers and gripping your chin, smearing your arousal on it. he leans in and hums as he licks if off before kissing you. his tongue entwines with yours, letting you taste yourself.

you arch up into him craving more. desperate to feel him just as much he does. he fumbles with the button of his pants, anticpation coursing through him making his hands tremble. your hands move to his hips, helping him out. he sits back on his heels as he gets rid of both his pants and boxers.

"fuck," you breathe looking at his length. he chuckles, his ego visibly stroked. "i'll go easy, don't worry". a deep blush spreads across his cheeks as he notices your unwavering gaze. he begins to stroke himself. his cock is a vibrant shade of crimson which thick veins running along the length, pulsing with each stroke — the head a darker hue, slightly glistenig with pre cum. he swipes his thumb across it and then brings it up to your lips.

"want a taste?" he asks with a teasing smile. you nod eagerly and he pushes it between your lips, making your eyes roll back. "as much as i'd love to feel your mouth on me" he says positioning himself between your thighs, "i think i'd lose my mind if i don't fuck you right now".

the tip of his cock nudges against your wet folds, brushing against your entrance. his eyes lock onto yours as he presses forward, easing into you. the fullness makes you gasp and your hand comes up to grip his arm as he stretches you open. he pauses, letting you adjust. his breathing heavy and uneven as he holds himself still above you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he growls. your walls cling to him as he starts to move but stops. "baby, breathe for me," he murmurs, his voice rough with need. "i can't move." you let out a giggle at his words and unknowingly clench around him making him gasp. his head falls onto your chest. "fuck, dont do that," he groans.

"you can go harder," you whine. he grins as he pulls out and drives back in. the force of his thrust makes you shudder with pleasure. he reaches that senstive spot inside you making you mewl out in pleasure. each stroke brings you closer to your climax, his head pressing against your g-spot.

"yes, right there suguru!" you gasp, your hips move in rhythm with his. his sweat-slicked body rubs against yours, his thrusts growing faster and more urgent. “fuck, thought about this for so long” he murmurs into your ear. his tongue traces the shell of your ear before he nips it and nudges his nose into your cheek. the action soft and gentle unlike his pace.

he kisses you with an intensity that turns your brain into mush. the kiss is messy and unrestrained. his teeth occasionally bumps against yours as your tongues tangle together. "suguru," you whine into the kiss and he grunts in response. his thumb finds your clit, pressing and rubbing in tight, steady circles that make you moan.

his pace quickens and you can feel the pressure building deep in your belly, your body strains with the need to come. “come for me, sweet girl,” he commands, his voice rough with his own impending orgasm. “i need to feel you cum around me.”

another hard thrust of his has you crying his name when you reach your climax. "suguru! hngghhh!!" your body arches and trembles beneath his, waves of pleasure crashing over your. he follows suit, his movements becoming erratic as he spills into you. your name escapes his lips in a broken, breathless moan.

he collapses on top of you, both of you gasping for air. the intensity of your release leaves you both breathless, your bodies entwined in the afterglow. his hand gently caresses your sides as he comes down from his high, and the room is filled with the lingering echoes of your shared passion.

a quiet settles between you, both of you lost in thought. you reflect on how everything has shifted. doubts swirl in your mind—wondering if suguru sees this as a one time thing or something more. you remember him saying he wanted more, but what if he just said it in the heat of the moment.

the silence stretches, and he can sense the turmoil in your thoughts. with a sigh, he pulls away from your shoulder. his gaze is warm and reassuring, “just ask me whatever’s on your mind".

he looks between your eyes, understanding what you're thinking before you can voice it. he presses a tender kiss to your lips, catching you off guard. he rests his forehead against yours. “i meant what i said,” he murmurs gently. “i want this. i want to move forward. i want more of this—more of us.”

you run your hands through his hair as he reassures. "i want to be your boyfriend," he mumbles, a shy smile spreading across his lips. your heart swells at his vulnerable expression, not used to seeing him like this. you chuckle softly and return his smile. “i’d like that,” you say, your voice warm and filled with emotion. unable to help himself he peppers your face in wet kisses making you laugh heartily.

☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸☼︎｡𖦹°‧𓂃 𓈒𓏸

A/N: please drop a like, comment or reblog!

© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[ebodebo]

Your stalker is Simon, but he never goes too far. Gives you calls, stays a distance away from you to keep you safe at night or whatever, he leaves you notes when your mental health is going bad, reminding you to eat or drink water or like to drink your meds? Sorry if it's a bit weird :3

Number One Fan

—thinking about stalker!simon riley…MDNI

It was late, eleven or so at night, as you trudged into your house. Your dick of a boss was being a pain in the ass about office hours, so you stayed later to hopefully get in his good graces and get that overtime check.

You set your keys on the table at the entrance, wiping your tired eyes as you hung up your coat. You walked into your room, noticing a neatly folded piece of paper on your nightstand. You halted, feeling a sense of uneasiness, before gently stepping to grab the note, deeply sighing as your eyes scanned over the words etched into the paper.

Take your vitamins, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, now would we? Also, no more alcohol. Bad for you.

- G

You had a stalker. Well, have had one for the past two months or so. It’s strange, really. The guy can get in and out of your house with ease, but he doesn’t ever take anything. He just leaves notes reminding you to take your medication and calls when you have a terrible night.

You called the police the first time you found a note, but they said they couldn't do much since it wasn’t a direct threat to your health, so you stopped calling them. Initially, you thought the guy would get bored of you and leave, but sixty-ish days later, you are still getting his ominous notes and calls.

It was looking like you had attracted a nester.

You grabbed the tainted paper and stuffed it in your side table drawer, along with all the other numerous notes he had left you. Turning on your heels, you walked back into your kitchen, reaching to grab a fresh bottle of wine. There was nothing like a little bit of liquid courage to take the edge off.

As you poured the wine into your glass, your home phone rang, startling you to where you had spilled some of your wine on the counter, causing it to leak down your wooden cabinets below.

“Shit,” you curse, grabbing a wad of paper towel and setting it in the red to soak up as you walk over to the phone.

“Hello,” you answer, voice a little agitated.

“Left you a note,” the gravelly voice said, making the hairs on your neck stand. It was him—your stalker. You gripped the phone tighter, wrapping the coiled cord around your pointer finger.

“Thought I wrote no more alcohol,” he says sternly.

“I told you to stop calling this number,” you muttered.

“Just checkin’ up,” he urged.

“Well, don’t,” you hissed, feeling a slight numbness to your pointer finger as you pulled the cord tighter.

“Boyfriend isn’t treating you well,” he says knowingly. Your eyes widen. He was right. Your boyfriend was a major douche, but you’d been dating him since high school, so you felt this odd sense of obligation to continue being with him.

“He’s…fine,” you say, though your voice carries hesitation.

“That so?” He smugly questions.

“Yes. You need to lose this number,” your voice is assertive and strong. Maybe he’d finally take the hint.

“He can’t even make you come.” He was right, again. Let’s just say your boyfriend mainly caters to his urges and needs, leaving you to pull out your vibrator in the middle of the night and take care of it yourself.

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head again. You part your lips to speak but are unable to make any words come out. You find yourself genuinely dumbfounded for the first time since he showed up.

“Tell me I’m wrong?” He urges in a low voice.

“I—he’s, he’s more than proficient in the bedroom, but that’s none—” you lie, unsure of why you felt the need to defend your boyfriend to a random guy before he cuts in.

“I could make you come and not even touch you,” he lazily says, words oozing in confidence. You loathed how his words shot straight to the spot between your legs. God, what the fuck were you doing? Getting all worked up over your stalker, who you couldn’t even fucking see. Maybe you were just as crazy as him.

“You couldn’t,” you assert, trying to keep your tone strong, but he could hear it. The needy strain it held. He let out a rough laugh. You wrapped the cord tighter around your finger and saw it turn a pale white.

“Let me see those pretty tits he gets to see,” he encourages. You suck in a sharp breath, teeth coming out to sink into the flesh of your bottom lip, piercing the skin a little making coppery liquid coat your tongue.

Your conscious is telling you that you shouldn’t be doing this, you had a boyfriend, and this guy was insane, but the little devil on your shoulder told you to pull your tits out and make him put his money where his mouth was, which overrode your better judgment.

You could hear his deep breaths rasping over the phone when you uncoiled your hand from the cord, skimming up your stomach to the dip of your breasts, gently unclasping your bra, and pulling it out from the bottom of your shirt.

You hesitate a moment before you grip the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the side. You were now bare from the stomach up, awaiting his response.

“Wish I could take one of em’ in my mouth. Give em’ a nice squeeze while you ride my cock,” he rasps. You gasp, finding yourself bringing a hand up to caress a breast gently.

“But, this is about you. I’ll make you feel good,” he assures, his voice husky as he watches you play with your breasts.

“Okay,” you find yourself choking out, breathless.

“Pull your shorts down,” he commands. You oblige, slipping your shorts and panties down, dropping them so they both hang around your ankles, revealing your bare cunt.

“Christ. Fuckin’ perfect pussy,” he gruffs. You sink your teeth more deeply into the fat of your lip, feeling wetter as the seconds pass.

“Let me see you touch yourself,” he says. “Go on.”

You take your hand caressing your breast and bring it to your slit, carefully dragging your pointer and middle fingers up and down where you ache. Your lips part as you let out little breathy noises that have the guy nearly coming in his pants.

“Doin’ so good,” he lazily says. “Sink them in.”

You moan into the phone as you sink your fingers deeper into you, grazing your sensitive clit. Swirling and pumping in and out, spewing lewd moans that go directly into his ear that have him heavy breathing.

However, you change positions so your hand presses against the wall for support, shifting the phone to smush against your cheek and muffling your voice.

“Can’t hear you,” the rumbled voice says through the phone, making you lean more into it, wanting to feel his voice on your skin.

“Need to hear you, or I won’t let you come,” he states matter-a-factly.

“Fine,” you grit, taking your hand off the wall to correctly grasp the phone so he can hear all your mewls and moans as you continue pumping your fingers in and out of yourself.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised. You hate that the sentiment just made you impossibly wetter; your arousal covered your fingers, but he wasn’t done yet. He had made you a vow, and he intended to see it through.

“Faster, faster, faster.” You quickened your pace, following his directions—so obedient. The pace quickly turned into a feeling you had only ever been able to give yourself, but on a different level. It made your skin itch with desire. It was a mix of euphoria and nirvana—something people only prayed they could reach.

It was taboo, and unethical, and wrong. Maybe that’s what made it feel so good. Knowing it was immoral. Maybe it was the massive adrenaline rush you were getting. Or perhaps the dopamine being shot through your body. Honestly, you really didn’t give a shit what it was, you just knew it felt so fucking good.

You felt that familiar toe-curling tightness in your lower stomach, signaling your climax. Moaning so loud as your arousal coated your fingers as your body violently shook, almost knocking you off your feet and onto the hardwood floor.

Once you felt your high diluting, you gripped the phone tighter, issuing a quiet “hello” to see if he was still there. He was silent for a moment before finally speaking, his voice hoarse.

“Clean up your mess.” Was all he said before abruptly hanging up, leaving you to stand with a cold hand as the air brushed against your soaked fingers. But, you did as you were told, sticking your fingers in your mouth as you sucked them clean of any remnants of yourself. Doing just as you were told because you are not anything if not an excellent listener.

a/n: sorry if you didn’t want smut, but this was just such a hot idea…also, i don’t condone cheating unless it’s with simon riley xx

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: none

Summary: You’re plagued by the kid who lives in your neighborhood, the kid you know has a crush on you. You left town, you lived your life without him, and now you’re staring at him face to face after years. Something about him has changed and now you can’t help but want him back.

Square Filled: art student au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

As soon as the last bell at school rings, you race off campus to start the walk home. It’s not a far walk but you enjoy the silence you get from it. Your house is filled with little brothers and sisters and it’s hard to get a moment of peace. Your parents do the best they can but you know it’s hard for them. You’re the oldest so you’re expected to help out which is why you also enjoy your time alone.

You walk around the corner and notice the sixth house down from yours with the garage open. You’re not sure how you feel but something washes over you knowing what’s going to come next. Maybe it’s annoyance or irritation or indifference but the same thing happens every single time you walk home from school.

The only kid that lives there, Spencer Reid, loves to come out and walk with you the rest of the way to your house. He’s a nice kid but that’s all he is--a kid. He’s two years older than you are but you’re much taller than he is. If he is going to get a growth spurt, he’s getting it late in life or maybe his family are just short people. He’s not enrolled in your school because he’s mega smart and needs higher education to stimulate his brain.

You slip past his house in hopes you can enjoy the rest of your walk in silence but you hear the garage door slam shut and footsteps padding down the driveway.

“Hey, Y/N! Almost missed you.”

“Hi, Spencer,” you shake your head.

“How was your day?”

“It was fine. It’s just school.”

“Today was my first day of college and it was exhilarating. I have to admit, I wish you were there. Or I wish I was enrolled in your high school like all the other normal kids. At least we’d be together.”

You knew he had a crush on you after the first conversation you ever had with him. He called you pretty and vowed he’d walk with you to protect you against predators. It was cute at first but not you’re interested in someone like him. Like you said, he’s nice and has the potential of being a good boyfriend but he’s short and you don’t go for short boys.

“Sure, Spencer.”

“Listen, my mom gave me some money and I wanted to see this new French film that’s playing across town. Do you think you’d want to maybe go with me?”

Never has he ever had the balls to ask you out. Now that he has, you need to put a stop to this. He’ll get over the crush and you won’t be humiliated every time you go out in public. Does that make you selfish? Maybe. Does that make you a douche? Definitely. You stop outside of your house and look down at Spencer who has a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Spencer, listen, you’re a nice kid but it’s never going to happen between us.” Spencer’s face falls but he doesn’t say anything. “Grow over six feet and then we’ll talk, okay?”

You meant that as a joke but you don’t stick around to see if he laughs. That’s the last time you ever saw Spencer Reid.

Now

Today is the day. You’re given the opportunity to feature your art in one of the most successful art galleries in the country. You studied at Princeton and got a degree in fine arts before interning for known artist Benjamin Hale. He’s so successful that he has hundreds of galleries across America with dozens more across the world. He was impressed with your portfolio and offered to let you study underneath him while creating your artwork in private.

He offered you a chance to showcase your work in one of his new galleries. According to him, he needs new blood in this gallery and you’re the perfect fit for it. Your speciality is portraits, realism, and photorealism. Your favorite things to draw are people but there is something about being in nature and drawing what God put on this Earth. You have an eye for making your paintings look real and raw, and you’re able to capture people’s emotions henceforth the realism part of your art.

You only have about a dozen works put up in your small corner of the gallery but you’re proud of it all. You might not sell anything tonight and that’s okay. When you got the word out that the gallery was going to open, people agreed to come once they saw free food and wine was going to be handed out. Still, you appreciate everyone coming.

The place is packed mostly for Benjamin’s work but you see some people enjoying your work. You’re in the back room getting more wine for the servers when one of them joins you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey, Lori. I’ve just gotten the box of wine for you guys.”

“I just came back here to tell you that someone just bought all of your things.” You’re so shocked that you spring up but hit your head on the corner of a shelf. You yelp in pain and rub the sore area before backing out of the dusty corner. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What did you just say?”

“Someone bought all of your work.”

You don’t wait to hear what else she has to say. You’re already out the door and rushing into the main room. You look to your section but don’t see anyone lingering around. You’re not paying attention to where you’re walking when you almost run into someone. The man grabs your shoulders to prevent you from falling and lets out a chuckle.

“Are you okay?”

Wait you know that voice. You look up at the man towering over six feet tall. Damn, he grew up.

“Spencer?”

“So, you do remember me.”

He lets go of your shoulders and allows you to take a step back from him. Damn, not only did he grow but he grew more handsome since the last time you saw him. Well, he was fifteen the last time you saw him but still.

“How could I forget the little boy who followed me for two years?”

“Yeah, I kind of had a crush on you,” he chuckles.

Oh, he even has a beautiful smile. Damn, I really was a dick to him back then. You try to ignore the pang of sadness at his use of “had” and not “have”.

“I know you did. I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

“Looking for someone?” he asks before you have a chance to leave his side.

“Yeah, someone bought everything I have out.”

“It was me.”

You pause and turn to look at him. He has a slight smirk on his face, and something in your head clicks into place. You look at him up and down and notice how he’s trying hard not to be overly confident in his decision.

“So, what, you got older and taller and now you think you’re hot shit?”

Spencer shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the one looking up, not me.” Your jaw drops several inches at his remark. “So, can we talk now?”

“Excuse me?”

“You told me to grow over six feet and we’ll talk. Well, I’m over six feet now. Will you let me take you out?”

You have no clue what to say to that because your mind is reeling from the last thing he said. Someone calls his name and you both see a black man, two blondes, and a brunette waving him over. They point to their watches which means he is either late or they have to go. He digs in his pocket and produces a business card. Only it’s not a business card. He’s in the fucking FBI.

“How about this?” He hands the card to you. “Call me when I can pick this stuff up and maybe we’ll talk then.”

He leaves your side and joins his friend group without another look at you. Is it shallow to want him now? Maybe. Are you going to try like hell to make up for lost time? Definitely.

x

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[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Johnny Lawrence’s daughter

Johnny Lawrence x daughter!reader

warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, classic johnny sexism <3

a/n: WHAT! ME write a fic thats not gn, i know. im shocked too but its just bc i feel johnny is so gender-stereotypey that doing this gn wouldn’t work very well but very open to a son!r or nb!r if anyone is interested (bc seriously. johnny cannot help but bring up genders). also i just want to say that a lot of this (not all!) honestly reminds me of or are actual things that have happened w my dad bc johnny is literally my dad if my dad was like 8 years older i think also i wrote this all in one sitting ALSO NO COBRA KAI SEASON 6 SPOILERS

prompt:

GIRL DAD!

you always kinda just gravitated toward living with your dad

“y/n, i’m so proud of you. i never have to worry about you. you can take care of yourself. robby on the other hand, i worry about him. i think girls are just more self sufficient” -johnny, a little drunk

“thanks dad” -you, also a little drunk (hes a “cool dad”)

he was the type of parent that “prefers that if you’re gonna do something stupid at least do it while he’s around” aka underage drinking

whenever he stays out late you fall asleep in his bed. and lock him out

“y/n! open the door!” -johnny, banging on the door

“no! your bed is more comfortable” -you

he thought it was sweet honestly but he did want to sleep in his bed

sort of like a lesson not to come home late all drunk and gross

he was VERY against letting you drive his car

“dad, i need my license!” -you

“no woman is getting behind the wheel of my firebird” -johnny

“why do you have to make it about women? i’ll fight you” -you

“you’ll lose that fight” -johnny

“oh, so you’d fight a teenage girl? wow, real classy, dad” -you

“no, but i’d fight my teenage daughter. i brought you into this world and i’ll take you out” -johnny

you honestly had a great sense of humor with johnny, but you’d check him if he said anything too messed up

“dad, it’s not the 80’s anymore, you can’t say that” -you

“dont tell me what i can and cant say! the 80’s were awesome, i wish it was the 80’s again” -johnny

“so i’ve heard” -you

he helped you with your homework as a kid until like, 2nd grade when multiplication and division got involved

he did teach you karate growing up! but mostly the basics, for self defense purposes

“hey, never let any guy try to impress you with his karate skills. he’s probably a douche” -johnny, pausing “i sure was”

late night movie marathons (70s/80s classics for sure)

he took care of you during your first hangover (high school parties, ya know)

“didn’t i teach you better than to mix liquors” -johnny

“ugghhhh” -you

yes, you have heard about daniel larusso. enough said LMAO

robby and you had a kind of sweet but distant relationship

occasional check-in texts

robby: are you doing okay with dad? he’s actually buying food and shit?

you: yeah! he’s fine right now, how’s mom? new stepdad yet? is he rich?

robby: mom’s not going anywhere she’d find a rich guy, but keep dreaming

you wear a lot of your dad’s old t-shirts. usually band tee’s

oh and he made sure you got into the “right music”

he used to drive you around in the firebird when you were a SMALL CHILD (front seat, no car seat!) and blast his old cassettes

for YEARS he’d pull the “who is this” “what song is this” game with the reasoning:

“if you wear a band shirt and some asshole asks you to name three songs, i want you to name ten” -johnny

listen. you were still “daddy’s girl” or whatever used to be a cute little saying and is now ruined but whatever

“dad, can i have twenty bucks?” -you

“for what” -johnny

“for fun. pleaseeee” -you

*johnny pulls out his wallet and gives you $40*

could he afford it? no. can he say no? also no.

the absolute fear he felt when you got your first period

“it’s fine, i can call mom” -you

“no, it’s not fine! i’ve had girlfriends before, i got this. stay here, i’ll be back” -johnny

he went to the store and bought the most random assortment of period products and pain meds and snacks and a heating pad

A for effort

when the diaz family moved in across from you guys, miguel took one look at you and johnny said:

“stay away from my daughter”

when the karate fuss got started you tried to keep your distance but sooner or later you joined the dojo and proved to your dad just how “badass” you could be

“take notes everyone, y/n’s gonna be the next all valley champ!” -johnny

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @retvenkos // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @an4aaa // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @sapphireplums // @petersgroupie // @ravenhood2792 // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @elemental-of-magic //

[catiuskaa]

reggaeton & champagne.

PAIRING! lee minho x reader x bang chan

SUMMARY: you knew better than to go down to the club alone. and that guy should’ve known better than to mess with minho and chan’s property.

REQUESTED! by my pookie @sharonxdevi who requested this here! and it’s such a good idea, tysm for trusting me with it<3

CW: the boys may come off as a little possesive, there’s a touchy douche in the club, mentions of alcohol, it ain’t spicy but surely it’s nsfw.

WC: 2.3k

A/N: so i’ve never even thought of writing poly!skz relationships until now, but i think it came out nicely! (and if you kinda recognize the title— i just spend an unhealthy amount of time watching skz edits on instagram lololol)

[🔹☆💠☆🔹]

The sign of the club glowed with bluish neon lights at the entrance. There was also a man, notebook in hand, receiving IDs prior to welcoming the long queue of people. Although it was not the most expensive nightclub in the city, you could see the difference between it and the rest of the clubs in town, in the sense that the establishment was very tidy and clean, with security personnel scattered around the corners, watching that everything was going out smoothly.

It was unusual for you to want to go out clubbing, but considering the boys’ schedule, any chance to make plans together was welcomed with open arms.

Especially by Minho and Chan, who would never force you to go out, but their lingering stares and their arms that would sneakily clung to your waist or your shoulders —and in some cases, to lovingly slap your ass or thighs—, were meant as a way of encouragement when you dressed up and went for it.

And a way to say that, as always, you looked fine as hell.

You had chosen a short silver-coloured dress that reached your mid-thighs, accompanied by a pair of matching mesh thigh-highs with cute little clips that allowed them to stay in place, only because you knew how to entertain your public, and loved every single second their eyes stayed glued to you as you danced your heart out.

The music pounded against the walls and reverberated through the floor, but not as much as how the booze traveled through your veins, only giddy enough to celebrate how well their last tour had gone, and merely to have some well-deserved fun.

Minho’s hands grasped you by your waist, pulling you off Chan’s arms and smirking as he pushed your back flush against his body.

One of his hands remained in place, but the other one moved slowly, tempting fingers heading down to your thighs, as if walking, the motion almost ticklish. You could feel his cat-like grin from behind you as you looked at Chan, who wasn’t mad at all, rather cheekily enjoying the other man’s antics as you kept dancing against him, following the rhythm of the music.

Chris got closer to the both of you, taking your arms and settling them on his shoulders as he approached even further, now the two gentlemen dressed in fine clothes towering over you.

“Our princess is feeling good today, huh?” His hand cradled your face, holding your chin in a tender grasp, unlike Minho, who started to play with one of the clips on your high mesh stockings.

You were about to say something, but Minho tugged at one of the straps and chuckled next to your ear, slapping it back. Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip, feeling the blush rising to your cheeks, the light foundation you had applied not being able to cover it.

Chris snickered, and Minho lightly bit the shell of your ear, and they both laughed as you squirmed in between their arms.

“Ok, ok—!” You giggled, out of breath due to the tickling and else. You didn’t want to leave just yet, but didn’t want to stop teasing your boys either.

Tugging on Chan’s collar, you propelled him forward, his hands ending on Minho’s shoulders by reflex. You moved your body in between both of them, swaying your hips, playing with Chris’ hair as you turned your head to face the man behind you, and chuckled, biting his lip.

They both felt a rush of blood heading to their face—and downwards—, but you stopped Chan for pushing you against Minho even more, one of your soft hands nonchalantly moving from the back of his neck to his chest, cheekily stroking his toned upper body.

“I think we can use some more drinks, gentlemen.” Your tone was filled with an enticing mockery only powered by their presence, and you licked your lips, feeling Minho’s slender fingers playing with the rim of your dress, tapping your thigh gently.

“I think we should head to the VIP lounge.” He grunted against your ear, his breath tickling your there, but the gentle yet lust-filled kisses he left right below started driving you a bit crazy. “Whaddya think, Chan?” Minho smirked, swiftly lifting his head from your neck to stare at the older man.

With all the mix of bright coloured lights, you could notice slightly how Chris’ eyes grew darker. Almost so dark that they could fuck you themselves, and you squeezed your thighs at the thought.

“I think our little brat needs to learn that teasing won’t get her anywhere, hyung.” Minho’s slender fingers playfully traced mindless shapes on your thigh.

The older man swallowed hard, his breath deepening.

“Guess you’re on thin ice, princess.” He leaned in, and pecked Minho’s lips from above your shoulder. He then turned slightly, and spoke in your ear. “You have ten minutes to go get those drinks. Go up the VIP platform right after, like the good girl you are, mmh?”

His hum almost echoed through your body, falling into an endless pit of arousal that those two gorgeous men had created, now able to make you feel hot and bothered in just a cheeky wink or a deep look.

Making you oh so weak for them. Only them.

“Heard that, kitten?” Minho smirked, lovingly kissing your cheek, as close as he could to the corner of your lips. “Ten minutes. Tick-tock.”

You tried heading towards the bar without your knees giving out as they both moved away, and instantly missed their warmth and strong hold on your body. But before you could even try, Chris tsked, pulling you back to him and almost fiercely planting a deep kiss that lit fire on your body, and almost made you whine when he pulled away, biting your lip.

“Fuck.” He gasped, feeling breathless. “Make that five minutes for daddy, yeah?”

And with a tap on your hips and a teasing wink, he left, following where Minho had gone.

You were unable to wipe the giddy smile off your face, feeling your cheeks get hot, and you patted them, hoping that your slightly cooler hands would do something to low it down.

Shaking your head lightly, you waved at the bartender, a tall, blond and handsome young man, and he gave you a kind smile. You sat on the stool closest, and he approached you, leaning on the counter.

“Nice seeing you here for a change.” He said with a snicker.

“Wish I could say the same, Hyunjin.” You wiggled your eyebrows almost dramatically, making him laugh.

“Your three usuals, beautiful?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. “Comin’ right up.”

You watched as he gracefully started to show off his abilities, passing drinks and metal cups and bottles in flashes and zooms, controlling every move so swiftly.

But then, you felt a hand on your waist.

“Sorry, scooching up real quick…” said a low voice from behind you.

His hands brushed your back, making you shiver. But it was a bad shiver. One that swiped away the giddiness your boys had left, but not as quickly as your smile took off.

The bold man dizzily sat on a stool that could’ve easily been a foot or two away, and your body relaxed easily at the new-formed distance.

You stared at him in a mix of slight disgust and raw astonishment. Used to your boys and the rest of the group, or people like Hyunjin, one could easily forget that people weren’t always respectful, nice and kind.

He noticed your blank stare, and misinterpreted it as interest. With a wide smile, he bent down, grabbing one of the legs of the stool you were sitting on, and smoothly moved it closer to his.

Another shiver ran through your back, goosebumps showing on your skin.

He smiled, and you held back a frown.

“Besides looking that sexy, what else do you do for a living?”

…

yikes.

That line didn’t only give you the ick, but you also noticed Hyunjin physically flinched, which made you snort, quickly covering your mouth.

The man was so drunk. You could smell it on his breath, and the guy looked rather pathetic. You didn’t feel too sorry for him, but wanted him as far as possible, and you moved to the edge of your stool.

The man looked proud of your giggles, but grew restless when you didn’t reply, so he took a sip from the glass of whiskey in front of him, kind of as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.

You sat up straight, glaring at Hyunjin so he’d call security if things turned complicated, and he winked at you as a form of reassurance.

“Do you, eh, come here often?” He blurbed out.

You looked at your hands, staring at your nails, and waited for a second before giving him a side-eye from above your shoulder, slender eyes looking uninterested.

Quickly going back to your nails, you shrugged. “Enough to know that you don’t.” You brushed off coldly.

If you did, you’d know that I’m happily taken.

He stammered, his breath hitched, and you could almost feel him start getting even more nervous, as well as slightly angry.

“Huh? Why’s that?” He scoffed, eyebrows raised at you, who again, didn’t bother to look at him, a bit wary of his moody attitude.

Hyunjin smiled at you, coldly glaring at the clueless man next to you as he swiftly left the three drinks in place, pressing the red button underneath the counter to call for help.

The man smirked, going back to a confidence you didn’t want to know where he had gotten.

Placing his arm sneakily on your waist.

Huh?

“All those for you?”

Before you could react and slap him for his unrequested bold actions, you heard a grunt behind you.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

At that moment, Chan wasn’t so sure if he was the pacific one in your relationship.

He trusted you and your ability to set your own boundaries, by any means necessary, even if it meant slapping someone across the face.

And he knew them by heart. He had watched how you grimaced, trying to take this drunkard’s hands away from you.

So he helped you by slapping them off your body.

As ‘gently’ as he could.

“Move aside.” He said in a low growl, failing to relax until you moved your hand and took his, squeezing it as a way of thanking him.

Instead of getting the hint, the man frowned.

“Hey, if you can’t tell, I was trying to—”

Minho scoffed, appearing behind the man.

“Keep babbling around our girl and I’ll give you a story to tell.” He said in a dark, low tone of voice, eyes and tongue so sharp that they could almost pierce right through the man. “Now shoo.”

Security came by a minute after and apologized for not taking care of him before, then fined him, following the nightclub’s rules and finally kicked the man out.

One of the security guys approached the three of you, and bowed swiftly, apologizing.

“I’m really sorry. This guy has already annoyed some other customers before. I’ll speak to the owner of the place and see if there is something we can do regarding his situation. As for you, miss…” He gave you his card, and you smiled at him, bowing your head gently.

“My name is Seo Changbin. If you ever need anything…” he sighed, a hand to his nape, the buff man slightly flustered. “Don’t hesitate to call me. I can’t think of another way to compensate you…”

Chan smiled, and shook hands with the security guard.

“No need to worry, mate. It’s fine now.” He stated calmly, his other hand still engulfing yours.

Minho bowed at him, his arm around your waist, as if trying to erase any marks or traces of the drunkard’s touch.

“Home, love?” He said in a gentle whisper, kissing your temple after you nodded. “S’okay.”

Minho opened the door to the car for you, and Chan’s hand never left your thigh the whole way back home.

As soon as you got back, you let out a tired sigh.

Chris hugged you from behind, and you melted under his touch. With a soft grin, Minho ushered Chan’s arms away from you, and swiftly took you in his arms.

“Sleepy?” The older one asked, but you shook your head. You didn’t want the night to end on this note. “Then I’ll go get something. You guys get going.” He smiled at you, eyes soft as he lovingly stroke your cheek, your face resting on Minho’s shoulder.

With a slight smirk, he patted Minho’s butt, and headed to his studio.

“Bang Chan!” He whisper-yelled, ears red, and you chuckled lowly.

“Cheeky little baby.” Minho cooed at you, heading to your shared room, and you giggled softly, hiding your head on the crook of his neck. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”

You moved your head from his neck and pecked his lips. Minho took you to bed, and tenderly took your heels off.

“Shower?” He asked softly, but you shook your head no, so he nodded, taking off your dress. With a cat-like grin, his fingers went back to your thighs.

“You have to wear these more often, you little tease.” He snickered, and you smiled, blushing softly. “You look so good in everything.” He said, stroking your cheek.

Chan quickly came back, fluffy blankets and laptop with him.

“Movie night!” He smiled, almost childishly, and both your and Minho’s heart tugged on your chests.

They took their fancy clothes off and put on sleeveless shirts and the matching pyjama pants you had gifted them for Christmas, who were at first meant as a joke, but remained being used just because how comfy they were.

There, snuggled between Chan and Minho, you smiled, taking both of their hands.

“I’m hungry.” You said, pouting unconciously.

“We can make popcorn if you want.” Christ suggested, pausing the movie.

You sat in your knees, looking at them with a smirk.

Minho smirked back, starting to guess where this was headed.

“What do you want to eat, kitten?”

You snickered.

“I want to have ramen.”

~kats, who hopes everyone understood that kdrama reference just now ;););););)

[lnfours]

ruin the friendship | l.n

summary: i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but i was wondering if you would ever consider doing a fwb/roommates fic for lando like the one you did for tom? i absolutely love your writings!! -> yes anon, my requests for lando are open :))) also i listened to ‘don’t ’ by bryson tiller while writing this so feel free to listen to it while you read <3

warnings: friends with benefits!! language, sexual tension u can cut with a knife, neck kisses, nothing too crazy, jealous roommate lando 🫣

masterlist | ask box 💌 | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you stood in the kitchen, stirring the pot on the stove as soft music played from the speaker on the counter. you hummed softly, the door closing catching your attention, making you spin around in your socks. the voices entered the kitchen and you smiled at your two roommates.

“mate, you’re crazy,” max laughed, “i don’t understand how you did that.”

“because i’m a great golfer, that’s how,” lando said, putting his phone on the island as he pulled a stool out to sit, “how was your day, y/n?”

you turned back to the stove, “it was alright, i guess. got some work done, went to the store, the usual. not nearly as exciting as you two’s day it sounds.”

max smiled, patting lando’s shoulder, “mans was a beast on the green today, should’ve been there,” you shook your head with a smile, thinking about the last time the three of you were on a golf course.

let’s just say, drunk people shouldn’t drive golf karts. max continued, “oh, how was your date the other night?”

lando’s ears perked up, his head snapping away from his phone. you grabbed the pot with the oven mitts, pouring the spaghetti into the strainer, “it was alright, nothing special.”

“you went on a date?” lando didn’t mean it the way it came out. you looked over your shoulder at him, “with who?”

“some guy who was all over her the other night at the club,” max said, “was it not good?”

“he’s kind of a douche,” you said, bringing the spaghetti back to the pot and adding the sauce, “didn’t have a good time.”

“sorry to hear that, y/n,” max said before standing up, “‘mgonna go shower.”

you and lando nodded, his eyes going back to watch you as you fixed dinner. you met his eyes, “you have a staring problem, norris.”

“you didn’t tell me you were going to go on a date with that guy.” he said. you dropped the spoon in the pot, reaching up to grab plates for everyone.

“didn’t know i had to tell you all of a sudden.” you shrugged. he stood from his seat, walking over to you. you backed up against the counter, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as he placed his hands on the counter, basically trapping you between the counter and him. he had a slight sunburn on his nose from being in the sun all afternoon, his sunglasses were still pushing back his curls, and his eyes were damn near mesmerizing.

“suppose you don’t,” he said, “did he bring you flowers at least?”

you shook your head and he clicked his tongue, reaching behind you for a plate, “that’s a shame. i would’ve brought your favorite.”

“do you even know my favorite?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed as he turned around to the stove. he put his plate down on the counter next to you.

“of course i do,” he said, “your favorite flower is a sunflower, and if im not mistaken you have a tattoo of a sunflower right…” he trailed off, lifting up the edge of your hoodie and pointing to your hip, “here.”

his finger touched the exact spot the tattoo was, his touch burning through the fabric of your sweatpants. his smirked as you met his eyes again, grabbing his plate as he moved back to the other side of the island. of course he knew where it was, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. he knew all the ins and outs of your body at this point.

“dinner smells good,” max said as he reappeared, in a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as you tried to regain your composure, “you alright? look like you just ran a marathon.”

you nodded, grabbing your own dinner, “i’m good.”

he nodded but still gave you a look. after dinner, max went to go stream but lando stayed back to help you clean up. you were washing dishes as he placed them in the sink. once all of them were collected, he wrapped his arms around your middle. you leaned back slightly, tilting your head to the side to let him place his head on your shoulder.

“going on dates with other guys when you still fold every time i do this?” he joked and you huffed, laughing softly.

“i don’t fold every time,” you said, “i pick and choose, and i guess today is your lucky day.”

he pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw and you couldn’t help the soft noise that came from your throat, “hmm? don’t fold every time?”

you rolled your eyes, “it’s been a while.”

“too long,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“i need a shower,” you complained, turning around in his arms.

“me too,” he said, brushing a stray hair from your face, “wanna save some water?”

you laughed, shaking your head, “you shower with the water too cold.”

“you’re the one who likes it boiling hot! it’s a wonder you don’t pass out in there.”

you rolled your eyes, “maybe you’re just dramatic, did you think of that?”

he fake gasped, “me? dramatic? never.”

you nodded, stepping away from him, “keep telling yourself that.”

“seriously, come shower with me,” he grabbed your hips, pulling you back to him. you let out a soft laugh as he pouted, “please.”

you let his lips go to your neck, giving into him the second time today, “no, lan.”

“cmon,” he said, “it’s the least you could do for going on a date behind my back.”

“you were the one who wanted to keep this,” you waved your finger back and forth between your two bodies, “a secret.”

“not anymore,” he said, “i’ve thought about it, let me take you on a date. a proper one. i’ll get you flowers, take you to the restaurant downtown you love that you go to with your friends. i’ll pull all the stops, you deserve it.”

you smiled softly, “only if you promise to wear that black button up shirt you wore last weekend.”

he raised an eyebrow, “you liked that, huh?”

“maybe,” you smirked up at him.

“okay, then you have to wear that red dress you wore on the night out the other night.”

“deal.”

he smiled before lifting you up off your feet. you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, “where are we going?”

“my bed,” he said, carrying you down the hallway and shutting his bedroom door with his foot, “because now i can’t stop picturing you in that dress.”

“thought you wanted to shower?”

he sat you down on his lap, hands wandering under your hoodie as yours tugged on the hem of his golf shirt, “need you more than a shower right now.”

[hotyanderedaddies]

The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 4:

Yandere Bully Interrupts Your "Date"

Part 0 │ Part 1 │ Part 2 │ Part 3

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Jonathan was a nice guy, you figured.

The quarterback of the football team was always all smiles, and he seemed to never treat you differently despite being way higher up on the social ladder. Therefore, you sort of liked to tutor him. Not only did it feel like you were sometimes hanging out with a close friend, but it also made you feel good deep down that a guy was paying you some attention... even if it was just for school. But still.

And plus, you figured that he could potentially protect you from Blake.

Seriously, it was crystal clear that Jonathan lived in the gym after school, given his large muscles and athletic prowess.

Blake is muscular too, but he tends to hide his bulk underneath his leather jacket.

But still!

You tried your best to force your mind away from Blake as you and Jonathan pulled into the parking lot of a local diner. It was a small place where the two of you could be uninterrupted during your study session. It was one of the few local spots where Jonathan would treat you as payment for tutoring him, and you'd always order something sweet and tasty!

The two of you took your seats at one of the booths near the back, and your eyes stayed glued to the door. The constant fear of Blake finding you kept you on edge, and you found it hard to stay present with your brain always straying back to the bully.

You mentally berated yourself, annoyed that you kept thinking about Blake.

He'd claimed you as his, and you'd gotten three strikes.

Both of those spelt trouble in your mind, and you wanted nothing more than to avoid the guy. Therefore, you figured that being away from school with someone big who could protect you was the best course of action.

Jonathan and you placed your orders and tried to start the tutoring session, but it was close to impossible for you to get your nerves settled.

"Is something on your mind?" the jock finally asked when he'd noticed you staring nervously at the door for the millionth time.

"O-oh!" you mumbled, jerking out of your panicked daze. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little... distracted." You sheepishly smiled at the end of your statement, hoping that the jock wouldn't catch onto you inadvertently using him as protection.

Jonathan pursed his lips into a thin line, deep in thought. "So," he slowly asked, shrugging his broad shoulders, "is it Blake?"

You jerked back in your seat, shocked. "Wh-what do you mean?" you stuttered, trying your best to force an innocent smile onto your face.

Jonathan scrunched up his face in confusion. "Oh, my bad," he muttered. "I just thought that you two were having couple problems."

"'Couple problems'?" you repeated.

Jonathan shrugged again. "Well, yeah," he grunted. "I mean, by the way Blake talks about you, I thought the two of you were dating..."

"The way he talks about me?" you repeated again, feeling yourself go pale at the words you heard.

Never in your life would you have ever expected Blake to talk about you in any sort of positive manner. You always tried to avoid him like the plague, hence you'd preferred if he didn't know that you existed. But if he were to talk about you, you half-expected him to curse your name and call you the scum of the earth given how badly he's beaten people up all around you.

Thinking about it, there were several of Blake's victims you knew personally:

Kyle, the bully who's stolen your lunch money back in the sixth grade. He'd gotten his face beaten to a pulp, causing his nose to be a little crooked now.

Tristan, the guy who'd called you ugly on picture day. Blake had based his face so hard that his front teeth had been knocked out, totally ruining his picture.

Cesar, the douche who'd smashed your science project to smithereens for a YouTube prank. Well, Blake had filmed himself stomping him in the nuts, posting it to Cesar's now defunct account.

Wait...

"Wh-what has Blake said... about me?" you asked, feeling your heart fall to the floor as you thought everything over. It all had to be a coincidence, right?

The waitress delivered your food, distracting the jock for a second as he began to eat his fries. "Oh, um, he says lots of things about you," he mumbled, his mouth full of food.

That didn't really help.

"Like what?" you pressed.

The jock took a loud gulp of his soda. "Well, he says that he--"

He was cut off by the loud slamming of the front door. The both of you were altered to the booming noise, making you both flinch as you turned to see none other than Blake enter the tiny diner.

The bully's eyes scanned the area before landing on you, narrowing in your direction.

Uh-oh...

To be continued...

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

I'm sorry about the lack of tagging people! I'm forever and always appreciative of everyone's interest in this story. Unfortunately, I just can't tag everyone at the moment. I apologize and hope you all understand!

[nightdiary]

first dates with enhypen

word count: 5.4k genre: fluff, gender neutral reader, suggestive bits in jake's and hoon's but nothing too crazy imo author's note: been wanting to write more for enha so this was born... i am down bad for all of them i fear ): also it was almost too easy to get carried away in some spots but i didn't! i'm thinking of making more specific and individual bf posts for each of the members... saving my juicier ideas for then 🤍 as always, feedback is appreciated greatly<3!!!

✧ heeseung - tinder date

you have a routine with all of your tinder dates. after three months on the app, you’d learned how to cycle through the guys quick enough so as not to waste a minute on someone who you didn’t see fitting into your life.

there are three stages to the cycle: one, they had to pass the initial profile check. simple enough, and yet most failed right at the beginning. half-naked photo holding a fish? swipe left. in a douche-baggy frat you’d never heard of? swipe left. 27, not sure what he’s looking for, and republican? hard swipe left.

the second and third stages took the longest, but that’s when the disappointment came in. after a few days of texting, the inevitable message about meeting in person would come. if the guy seemed normal enough, you’d agree, and finally meet. you’d build up the moment in your head and pick out a cute outfit and dance excitedly in your room beforehand, going through the possible conversation starters you could use if it got awkward.

you’d sit through a date with them and wait to be asked questions, wait for them to express some sort of interest in you as a person, but it would never come. instead, you would sit and listen to them harp about themselves for hours. every time, without fail, it was almost as if they didn’t care enough that you were there.

then, they’d presumptuously ask if you wanted to come home with them and, well, your decision couldn’t be clearer.

as much as you hated generalizing, the men from your tinder dates were proving to be pretty shit. they looked good on paper, but when it came down to dating you, they fucking sucked. and you were beginning to lose hope.

you’d sworn that you would take on one last date before deleting the forsaken app. lee heeseung is everything you’re looking for in a man, and you think it’s a wonder he matched with you instantly. the texts you exchange pass your perception of normal, and before you know it, he’s proposing you meet up at a japanese restaurant downtown.

you find yourself sitting across from a man you think god sent as an apology for all of the other 4 billion and some men.

“you are suspiciously perfect,” you frown, squinting at your date across the table. “like it’s weirding me out. what is wrong with you, lee heeseung?”

“quite a lot actually,” he jokes, “but my mom says i’m a good boy. i’d trust her, if i were you.”

snorting, you reach to snatch the last dumpling with your chopsticks. heeseung’s grab the dumpling before yours do, but he’s quick to place it onto your plate and tell you he’ll order more. as he politely calls the waitress over and thanks her when she brings over a new plate of dumplings, you can’t help but think you’re fucked. either your standards are low, or heeseung is just one remarkable man.

but as the afternoon progresses, you begin to lean towards the latter. heeseung takes a genuine interest in your hobbies and work, asking you thought-provoking and personal questions that don’t toe the line of being intrusive and passive-aggressive. you realize that this is the first date you’ve been on where you’ve talked so much, and it feels so weird to not spend the entirety of your date looking forward to going home.

“i think i’ve found out what’s wrong with you,” you tell him once both of you are standing outside of the restaurant. heeseung had paid for the bill no questions asked, and when you’d gotten up to shrug your coat on, you realized with a start that the sky outside was pitch black.

as heeseung hums unassumingly and fixes you with a questioning look, you grin and say, “you hate mint chocolate. you’re a walking red flag, lee heeseung.”

your date bursts out into laughter and shakes his head. the wide smile stays on his face as he offers his arm to you, bringing you close to his side when you take it. “fine, you’ve got me there. can i at least walk you to your bus stop before you block me?”

you pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with your forefinger, before sighing and agreeing with a matching smile. your walk to the stop takes you through a busy central street that’s alive in the early evening, and you can’t help but press yourself closer to heeseung. he steers the two of you through the crowds with relative ease, and you somehow manage not to bump into anyone for the entirety of the walk, all thanks to him.

as you sit on the bench together and wait for your bus to show up, you use the cold as an excuse to huddle up to heeseung’s side. he laughs again, a lilting noise that tugs at your heartstrings, and you quickly realize you’ve gotten yourself in far too deep from the first date.

you have to move off his shoulder when he begins taking his jacket off. confused, you watch as he drapes the material over your back and urges you to slip your arms in through the sleeves so he can zip it up. you notice your bus rolling up to the curb and panic, turning to heeseung with a frown.

“don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. kissing your cheek sweetly, he helps you get up and walks you toward the bus door. “you have to walk home from the bus, i don’t want you getting cold. just give it to me on our next date, yeah?”

stunned, you nod shyly and step into the bus. as you scan your card and take a seat next to the window, you peer outside and grin when you find heeseung waiting to wave goodbye. he’s a bit blurry because the glass has fogged up from the heat, but you can make out the way his face softens when you trace a heart into the window.

with the promise of a second date and heeseung’s cozy coat on your shoulders, you begin making your way home, feeling oddly warm and thrilled beyond belief.

maybe tinder had finally worked out in your favor. you’d make sure to leave a 5 star review when you got home.

✧ jay - rollerskating rink

for what it’s worth, you weren’t the one that chose the location for your first date.

you’d left the decision up to jay, who, in all of his dependable glory, seemed to have chosen the worst possible location– at least for him.

“jay?” you call to the panting boy behind you. “are you sure you’re okay? we can always go sit down for a bit and come back later.”

your date shakes his head adamantly and pushes himself forward using the railing, scrunching his eyes shut like he’s anticipating another fall. he looks awfully adorable in the hot pink skates that the rink had lent him, even if he’s faring worse than a newborn deer with them on. the juxtaposition of his carefully crafted and sophisticated outfit with the cartoonish design of the skates is oddly endearing to you.

“wow, i really thought this looked harder than it actually was,” jay pauses by the railing, leaning down to rub at his ankle with a pained expression. “these skates are beating my ass.”

“why’d you choose this place if you’ve never been rollerskating before?” you can’t help but ask.

“okay, don’t laugh,” jay warns, avoiding your curious eyes. his cheeks are all red as he continues to massage his ankle, and you doubt it’s entirely because he’s exhausted from skating. “your best friend told me you like to come here a lot, but that you never have someone to go with. figured i’d be that person for you, even if i suck a lot.”

the thought of jay willingly sacrificing his comfort and the wellbeing of his ankles for you makes you feel warm all over. you help him stand up and regain his balance without relying on the rail, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek as encouragement. poor unsuspecting jay crumbles down immediately after, clutching onto the rail for support. you can’t help but laugh, though it isn’t unkind.

“just know i appreciate all of your sacrifices,” you tell him. offering your hand, you pull him up and continue to hold on to him as you lightly push backwards with your skates. “we can go slow, i’ll teach you some basic moves to get you moving around on your own.”

jay gulps but nods nonetheless, staggering forward after you. it’s relatively easy to keep him upright when you’re going at such a slow pace, his soft hands encased between the firm fingers of your own. you throw a look over your shoulder every now and then to make sure you don’t run into anyone, but the rink’s empty enough at this hour that you have enough space to move about freely with jay attached to you.

“bend your knees a little– yeah, that’s good, now glide forward one foot at a time, lean into your strides a bit,” you instruct, gaze focused on your date’s wobbly legs. the tight fitting jeans he’d worn are admittedly hot, but you feel a bit guilty thinking about jay’s thighs while he’s trying not to break the bones in them.

as soon as jay gets the basic motions down, you switch to skating side by side with him, your linked hands suspended between the two of you. he’s still slow and careful with his movements, but you can tell he’s fallen into a rhythm that works for him. you don’t mind having to inch your way across the rink with him. if anything, it’s nice having him by your side.

“i think this was just a big ploy to get me to hold your hand,” you tease.

jay flushes and, very tellingly, doesn’t say a word.

snickering, you begin to swing your hands between your bodies. jay’s hand is big and warm, and you don’t want to let go soon. “you should know i would’ve held your hand anyway. next time, let’s hold hands at a place that won’t break your tailbone.”

✧ jake - bowling

“you know what they say about men and bowling?” 

“no, jake,” you deadpan. you knew exactly where this was going, and yet you still decide to give jake the satisfaction. something about being a good date, even if jake has always been a friend you’d teased first and foremost. “what do they say?”

“they’re either good in bed or at bowling,” jake steps back from the lane and looks over his shoulder to wink at you. his arm swings back an exaggerated amount as he walks toward the foul line, sending the ball rolling onto the wood with zero coordination. it immediately goes towards the gutter. “these are mutually exclusive, scientifically proven.”

but in all of jake’s infinite luck, the ball veers towards the middle at the very last minute, hitting the front-most pin and knocking down the rest in succession. above you, the screen plays a cute animation of bowling pins running away from the ball, only to be smothered with a large neon text spelling out STRIKE! in bold letters.

“oh this is so bad for you,” you bite back the urge to laugh. jake’s mortified face turns towards you and you almost lose it at the sight of his heartbroken expression. “you’ve got another turn, by the way. let’s see if you can get a double, babe.”

jake’s next ball ends up in the gutter and he cheers loudly, earning him very confused looks from the kids in the lane next to you. one of them offers their dinosaur bowling ramp to help jake out, but he kindly turns them down and tells them he’s trying to let you win.

unfortunately for the both of you, you don’t hold up too great score-wise either. even with your one lucky spare and otherwise average abilities, jake ends up winning by 20 whole points, a feat he doesn’t seem too keen on celebrating. the light in your lane turns off after the round is over, and jake proposes you two get some well-deserved food.

“do you think this is a lame date?” he asks you once you’ve sat down at one of the plastic benches. you instantly frown at the question and reach out to spear a handful of fries with your fragile plastic fork.

“don’t worry, i think it’s sexy when men are good at sports,” you reassure him, “also it’s cute that you wanted to let me win. and that you bought me loaded fries with extra cheese. it’s super romantic.”

jake snorts, but you notice how his shoulders visibly relax at your words. navigating your friendship-turned-something-bigger was harder than you’d anticipated it would be, and acknowledging your reciprocated feelings was proving to be the easiest part.

you knew that jake was equally on edge about fucking this whole thing up. there was a lot more at stake here than with someone you hadn’t known for years prior. you were afraid of diving headfirst into something that could potentially rip away an important part of you, afraid that one wrong move would send jake tumbling out of your life. you had cherished him long before you had realized you loved him differently.

but as you watch jake chew through a forkful of fries, you realize that there’s nothing complicated about this. things have always been simple with him, and they’ll continue to be no matter if you’re dating or not.

“cmon, next round is on me,” you stand up and wipe the last of the cheese from your mouth. “if you can beat me again, i’ll consider letting you prove that silly bowling theory wrong to me.”

the speed at which jake gets up is dizzying. he’s at the counter paying before you can even catch up to him, sliding a few bills over to the employee and turning to you with a playful grin. “we’re at lane 7, babe. go get warmed up.”

✧ sunghoon - laser tag

your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your head. clutching the plastic gun to your chest, you press yourself closer to the wall and still your breathing. the red light on your heavy vest has stopped blinking, meaning you’d recovered from the last hit, but you know you can’t risk running just yet.

the undeniable sound of footsteps creeping closer makes you inch toward the corner of the wall, where you know sunghoon is waiting for you. you bite your lip and tense your finger on the trigger, peering over the bricks that are obscuring your vision.

surely enough, even in the darkness of the laser tag arena, you can make out sunghoon’s determined face. he’s crouched down behind a beat-up car, wearily scanning the area. most likely looking for you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet.

the blue on his vest has dimmed down– you’d hit him several times earlier and knew this was probably one of his last lives left. your own indicator showed that your lives were also running low, and based on how exhausted you felt, you knew you couldn’t have much time left from the round. you had to move in soon, or risk tying with sunghoon.

in your case, you thought that would be worse than losing.

taking a deep breath, you lift your gun and peer around the corner one more time, and in the split second it takes for sunghoon to notice you, you manage to send a shot straight at his vest. but the light on his vest doesn’t budge, and as you realize you had horribly misaimed, your date takes the opportunity to aim at you properly.

your vest makes a video game-like noise of defeat and you feel your gun power down. you know you have to hide for the next minute to let it recharge, but as you spin around and try to figure out where to run toward, you notice sunghoon already closing in.

“such a shame,” he drawls, holding up his gun with a smirk. you frown, backing up until you feel your shoulders hit a concrete wall. sunghoon’s voice is quiet enough not to draw attention from your teammates, but it sends shivers down your spine nonetheless. “thought you’d finally beat me this round. what happened, babe?”

“i still have one more life left, don’t get all cocky.” you mumble, shaking your gun frustratedly. the minute needed to pass by quicker.

looking over his shoulder, you realize with a frown that you’re in quite possibly the most secluded part of the arena. there’s no hope calling out for help or trying to make a run for it.

sunghoon squints down at your indicator and moves in even closer. you feel your breath quicken when the front of his vest hits yours, and you’re left caged in to stare up defiantly at him. he’s grinning at you like he’s already won.

“i’m not going to let you win,” you lean in toward him and whisper. sunghoon’s eyes flit toward your lips, and you try not to think about throwing your chances out the window and kissing him.

“you don’t have anywhere to run,” he places a hand next to your head on the wall, and to really drive the point home, you feel him press the muzzle of his gun against your side, where you know your sensor is. you’re pretty certain he can hear how fast your heart’s beating, and it makes you flush red from embarrassment. “you ready to admit defeat yet? or are you going to keep being stubborn?”

there’s no reason you should feel this lightheaded, but sunghoon’s so, so close to you that you can’t think properly. he’s practically pressed up against you, warm and solid and he’s barely a few centimeters away, and if you lean in just a bit more, you’ll be able to kiss him.

so that’s what you do.

“sure,” you say simply, and lean up to softly brush your lips against his. you grab at his neck with your free hand, bringing him flush against you so that you can fully slot your mouth with his. he’s surprised– you can tell from the way his gun clatters loudly to the floor next to you, and you try not to smile into the kiss.

seconds later, you distantly hear your gun make a familiar rebooting sound. you hold sunghoon firmly against you as you blindly aim your gun toward the sensor on his side, and with one last peck to the side of his mouth, you pull the trigger.

sunghoon’s vest goes dark. you don’t think he registers this, though, because he stares at you wide-eyed and adorably confused as you pull back from the kiss.

“i win,” you tease, and your date blinks down at his indicator.

“you win,” sunghoon affirms quietly. conveniently, the overhead lights turn on as the round draws to a close, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s reddened all over.

“victory kiss?”

✧ sunoo - picnic

ten minutes into your date with sunoo, you make the most devastating observation ever: sunoo has freckles.

they’re visible for only seconds at time, when the sun hits his face at just the right angle, but it still makes your breath catch in your throat every time you see them. they’re littered across his face like miniature stars, dipping across his cheeks in multitudes and scattering off toward his temples and brow bones.

your hands itch to reach out and trace them.

“–and then once we finally got to the place, it turned out to be super cute and they had some of the best lemonade i’ve ever had.” sunoo’s voice slowly trickles back into your ears, and you blink the world into focus once again.

you find your date looking at you with crinkled eyes, studying your features with amusement. almost like he knows exactly what’s been going through your mind.

“sorry,” you laugh sheepishly, reaching out to grab another chocolate-covered strawberry. sunoo had made them himself for the occasion, that much he’d eagerly disclosed within the first few minutes of the date, and you had found it too endearing for your poor heart. “i got distracted. what was this place called again?”

"auntie lim’s diner,” he answers slowly, smirking when you nod off-handedly. “hey, what’s on your mind?”

“lemonade,” you respond just a bit too quickly, face blanching when sunoo’s grin grows impossibly wider. whining and covering yourself with your hands, you try not to focus on the way his melodic laughter rings out like bells.

“lemonade, huh?” sunoo’s teasing is light-hearted, but that doesn’t stop your heart from leaping up into your throat. “was there some on my face? because you’ve been staring an awful lot for the past few minutes.”

groaning, you duck your head and try to focus on finishing your strawberry. you can feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your ears though, and are certain sunoo’s made note of this when he giggles and leans forward to get a better look at you.

“you’ve got freckles,” you mumble, picking at the leaves of the strawberry. when sunoo doesn’t respond for a while, you look up and bravely gesture toward his cheeks, pointing at where you’d seen the aforementioned spots with a shaky finger. “and like– it’s super cute. you’re super cute. but it caught me off-guard so, like. yeah. sorry for staring.”

sunoo hums. you can feel his eyes roving through your face, but you immediately look away once they finally meet yours. then, you feel something warm encasing your hand, and nearly jerk in surprise when your fingers come to brush against the soft skin of sunoo’s face moments later.

“don’t apologize,” he mumbles, leading your hand down the side of his cheek, where you’d pointed just seconds ago. “i’m really flattered you noticed. and you don’t have to be shy about stuff like this, i’d honestly be a bit worried if we were on a date and you didn’t find me attractive.”

reveling at the supple skin beneath your fingertips, you feel the weight ease off of your chest almost instantly. despite having known each other for a limited amount of time, sunoo’s come to be quick at recognizing when you feel out of place or uncomfortable, and he’s become too good at easing you back into safe waters. he’s too good to you.

“don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease back instead, unable to handle the growing wave of emotions in you. “i only said your freckles were cute.”

sunoo looks up at you through his lashes, and your hand freezes where it’s fallen by his chin. flitting your eyes downwards, you watch his rosy lips part, almost like they want to voice your hidden intentions. gulping, you subconsciously feel yourself draw in closer, until you can feel his breath wash out against your cheeks like water on shore.

your heartbeat’s in your ears and sunoo’s pretty mouth is right there. glancing back up at his eyes, you notice that he’s also looking down at your lips, tracing the minuscule movement of your tongue peeking out to wet them.

he’s so close. you can almost just lean in a bit and–

“yeah? so then my second date invitation to auntie lim’s diner has been rejected?”

pausing, your eyes widen as you stare back at sunoo in bewilderment. he’s grinning at you slyly, the edges of his eyes crinkling with laughter as his whole body shakes with amusement. you can’t help the string of giggles that bubble out of you almost like second nature. it’s nice, you think, having someone like sunoo to laugh with.

“i mean, i guess i’ll have to try this lemonade you speak so highly of."

✧ jungwon - boba place

in retrospect, choosing a first date location for you and a total stranger was easier than you thought it would be. yang jungwon, as your best friend had briefly introduced him to you, seemed simple enough to enjoy normal things. you already had a place in mind before your friend showed you his photos, but you really couldn’t help it once you laid eyes on him.

“has anyone told you your eyes look like tapioca pearls?”

jungwon’s cat-like features curl in amusement and he pops his lips off of the boba straw. he chews through his last gulp, wiping at the droplet of milk tea that had trickled out onto his bottom lip. you follow the movement with your eyes, coughing when you absentmindedly swallow a pearl without chewing it fully.

“no, but should i take that as a compliment?” jungwon asks, passing you a napkin.

you take it and wipe at your own mouth, cheeks growing red out of embarrassment. “yeah. but now that i think about it, it does sound kind of weird. i don’t want to eat your eyes, i promise.”

jungwon laughs, mouth pulling into an endearingly wide grin. okay, your friend had definitely undersold him. jungwon was cute as fuck.

“why’d you choose a boba place, anyway?” he continues, fiddling with the cup in his hold. he’d finished his drink surprisingly fast, and you have half a mind to offer him some of your own. “not that i don’t like it. great choice, honestly. but why?”

you shrug. “the atmosphere is nice. and if you’re going to go on a date with someone you don’t know that much, might as well go somewhere you can talk. it would be pretty awkward to watch a movie with a stranger, don’t you think?”

jungwon nods seriously, hair bouncing along with his movements. “your friend was right about you being smart.”

“yeah?” now that you thought about it, you hadn’t considered how your best friend had sold you to jungwon. given that he’d agreed, you figured it must’ve been pretty alright. that, and the fact that it was your beloved best friend in question, you had no doubt you were probably oversold, if anything.

still, there was a nagging curiosity in your head that you couldn’t ignore. “what else was my friend right about?”

“that you’re easy to talk to, and that i’d feel comfortable around you,” jungwon muses, glancing down as he traces the rim of his plastic cup. he seems to be mulling over his next words carefully, lips twisted into a cute pout. “they also said that you were pretty. the photos they showed me really were great, but you’re even better in person. not that looks are the most important thing but, y’know. you’re a package deal, basically.”

you feel the way your ears burn red from his words, and you stutter your way through a shocked thank you. jungwon grins knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it further. instead, he asks you if you want to share one of the cake slices in the display window that you were eyeing earlier. you try not to look too eager as you nod, choosing to ignore jungwon’s mumble of cute as he walks away. for your well-being, of course.

jungwon returns with a slice of red velvet and two forks in hand. he waits for you to take the first bite before sinking his own fork into the cake. “your turn. what’d your friend tell you about me?”

you know you have to word your answer carefully, or else you worry you’ll come off as a weirdo. jungwon’s too good to chase off just yet, and you haven’t had this much luck with a date in a long while. or ever, you think.

“my friend told me that the most important things about you were that you’re a psychology major and that you look like that one campus cat,” you trail off, unsure, “charles? was that his name?”

jungwon barely manages to set his fork down before he’s bursting into laughter. you would think you’d said something wrong but his entire face is crinkled with amuse and you can’t help but join in on the giggling, ignoring the glaring teenagers from the table over.

“charlie, yes, of course i know him,” jungwon manages to squeeze in between giggles, “oh my god, i didn’t know people outside of my friend group knew about this joke."

“so you’re the cat that’s always hanging around the quad,” you say, dead-serious, and jungwon meows cutely as if to agree with you.

“okay, so,” he puts his hand up and begins listing off on his fingers, “i look like a boba ball, the infamous cat on our campus, and what else?”

“my next boyfriend,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you slap a hand over your mouth in surprise as your cheeks color in embarrassment.

jungwon grins. “that can be arranged.”

✧ niki - arcade

“okay, now i’m actually convinced you’re cheating,” niki whines loudly, letting go of the controller and slumping back in his seat with a pout.

the game you’ve been going at for the past half hour– a car racing game set in an alternate reality– dramatically replays the moment your character crossed the finish line and won. the stark contrast of the accompanying confetti on the screen next to niki’s misery makes you giggle, and you reach out to slip the tickets that the machine spits out into your backpack.

“will you feel better if i get you something with these?” shaking a strand of tickets enticingly, you watch as your date immediately sits up and abandons his sulking to nod at you eagerly.

the teenager working the prize desk looks at the two of you with such a deadpan expression you nearly mistake him for a robot. gathering your pile of tickets onto the counter, you look up at the various different stuffed animals and boxes on display, frowning once you notice the ticket prices taped onto them, denoted with far too many zeroes for your liking. almost like inflation’s gotten to the arcades as well.

“see anything you like?” you turn to niki, brushing your shoulder against his.

you watch him survey the different rows, expression growing grim once he comes to the same exact realization as you.

“um,” it’s almost comical how you can hear the frown in his voice. “actually nevermind, these prizes are crazy. holy shit, three thousand tickets for a snorlax plushie?”

“right!” you nod, ducking your head and stifling your laughter when the employee sighs out loudly.

with your meager six hundred and thirty-seven tickets, you and niki manage to get a handful of smaller, yet arguably better things: a sticky frog, two chinese finger traps, a whistle that sounds like duck quacks, and three boxes of different pocky flavors.

“i had no idea that coconut pocky existed,” you mumble in awe, reaching into the packet to draw out another stick. you observe it under the fading sunlight, popping it into your mouth with a happy hum.

after you and niki had spent your fortune of tickets, you’d decided to take your business elsewhere (or, alternatively: leave before the employee ended up kicking you out). you found yourselves on a bench right outside of said establishment, going through each of the prizes that you’d tucked away into your backpack.

“me neither, but i really like ‘em. here, have some of the mango ones,” niki holds out a second box towards you, and you eagerly reach in to pull out some of the sticks. 

the sun’s begun to descend down the horizon, and you realize with a start that you’d managed to spend the entire day in the arcade with niki. the date seems to be drawing to an inevitable end, much to your disappointment, but you can’t help and savor the warm feeling that the day has left you with.

“it’s getting dark,” niki seems to read your thoughts. you hear shuffling and turn to see him stand up and collect his belongings, reaching out to offer his hand to you once he’s done. “i should walk you to your bus stop.”

staring up at him, you blurt, “do you want to go get a proper dinner instead?”

the words rush out of you before you can think, but no matter your shyness, you’re glad you’ve said them. niki’s surprised expression quickly morphs into something gentler, and he nods almost like he’s relieved. “oh thank god, i didn’t want to go home yet either.”

laughing, you take his hand and stand up from the bench you’d been sharing for the past hour. but even after he helps you up, niki doesn’t let go of your hand, instead threading his fingers through yours to hold you more comfortably.

you don’t say anything, but when niki looks over at you to make sure it’s okay, you smile at him brightly.

“so– fried chicken?”

[cameronsprincess]

Pretty Blue Eyes — R.C

— summary: you see rafe at a party after he’d dumped you, and it hurts more than you thought it would.

— CW: 18+ only! angst, strong language, alcohol consumption, drunk!reader, hurt/no comfort.

— a/n: i’m so sorry. i love angst and when i’m sad, i have to make y’all sad too. this angst prompts list gave me ideas and i used dialogues 3, 14 and 20<3 likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

I never knew losing him would hurt so much. Losing the one person I’d spent the last six months of my life with.

Six months might not seem like much to some, I understand people have gone through greater losses. But I’d fallen in love with him. Fallen in love with all the meaningless words he’d said. Fallen in love with his scent, his touch, his pretty blue eyes.

But he never loved me. I was just a game. Something to use to pass the time. I boosted his ego, made him feel special. And all the while, he was using me. Playing me. Making me fall in love with him, just so he could break my heart. It was random, and very unexpected. Four words was all it took to shatter my heart into a million little pieces — “I never loved you.” is what he’d said.

To make matters worse? He’d told me this right after we’d had sex. I gave myself to him. My whole self. And he took. He took and took, but never gave. He took until there was nothing left for me to give. He owned my soul, my heart, my body. He owned me, but I never owned him.

That was three days ago. Three days of crying myself to sleep, three days of not eating and drinking myself to death. Three days since I’d seen his face. I’ve tried to avoid him, but I knew I’d see him again. We live on a small fucking island for Christs sake. And he’s everywhere. He’s very well known. There’s no escaping him. And tonight proves that. He’s here. His pretty blue eyes watching me from across the room. I wish I could show him I don’t care, that he didn’t rip my fucking heart out and stomp on it…

But I can’t. I still love him.

“Are you okay?”

My best friend, Ashlyn’s, voice pulls me from the darkness I’ve allowed myself to crawl into. I slowly turn to face her, light brown eyes filled with concern intensely stare back at me.

I put on my best fake smile. “Yeah. Fine, why?”

Lie. I’m not okay, and I don’t know if I ever will be. But I can’t admit that.

She frowns. “You’re not okay though, I can see it in your eyes. Do you wanna leave? We can lea-”

I quickly cut her off. “No, no. It’s fine. Let’s just go get another drink. I’m gonna need them if I’m going to last here all night.”

Her frown deepens, but she nods her head. I internally thank the Heavens that she dropped the subject. I don’t want to talk about Rafe and how he’d absolutely obliterated my heart.

She grabs my hand, lacing her fingers with mine before pulling me off to the kitchen, and out of the eyesight of the beautiful, blue eyed man I once had all to myself.

“I’m thinking shots of fireball. Shit will get you drunk so fast.”

I laugh. “The alcohol version of red hot gum, I’m down.”

Laughing at my lame attempt at a joke, she grips the neck of the bottle, grabbing two shot glasses next and filling them both to the rim. I quickly grab mine, tossing it back and swallowing the harsh amber liquid. A shiver wracks my body as the burning liquid makes its way down my throat.

I cough, placing my hand over my stomach. “Fuck, I forget how much that shit burns.”

Ashlyn chuckles. “Yeah. But that’s what makes it great. The burn of this can help erase the burn you feel from Rafe being a royal douche.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. She’s right. I prefer the burn of the liquor over the burn of Rafe and his heartbreaking words.

She quickly fills the shot glasses again, handing me mine and watching as I down the amber liquid once more.

I slam the shot glass back on the counter. “Another, please.”

She smiles widely. “Atta girl. You’ll forget about the smug bastard by the end of the night at this rate.”

***

Ashlyn was right. I was…. twenty shots in?? I don’t fucking know, I was drunk. And I wasn’t thinking about the pretty blue eyed man.

I’m about to take another shot when a voice I didn’t want to hear anytime soon has me dropping the glass on the floor, clear liquid spilling at my feet as the glass shatters — representing my heart because of him.

“Y/N… I think you should cut yourself off and go home.. I’ll take you.”

I snap my head in his direction, those damn pretty blue eyes staring down at me. Looking at me like I actually meant something to him. Lies. He doesn’t give a fuck. He just doesn’t want me embarrassing him tonight. Fuck him.

With shaky hands, I grab another glass from the counter, my eyes never leaving his. I reach out and find the tall, glass bottle of Tito’s, pouring myself another shot and then downing it with my eyes on his.

“Fuck you, Rafe.”

He sighs, setting his beer bottle on the counter and placing his hands on my shoulders. His blue eyes search my face.

“Y/N. Please, go home. You’re drunk, and you’re hurting.”

I roll my eyes and scoff. Fuck him for trying to pretend he cares. He doesn’t give a shit about me. And I’m done caring about him.

“Stop acting like you give a fuck about me, Rafe. You dumped me. So it’s done. I just want to get drunk, and fucking forget I ever loved you.”

He glances behind me, his eyes taking in everyone that’s watching us. “Hey, can we please go talk outside?”

I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but he grabs my hand, pulling me outside. I’m so drunk I can’t fight him off. He pulls me all the way down the stairs of the front porch and down the long driveway until we reach his truck.

He opens the passenger door, tossing me inside and slamming it shut behind him. My heavy eyes watch him round the front of the truck before he hops inside the driver seat. He pulls the keys out of his pocket, sticking them into the ignition and bringing the truck to life.

I cross my arms over my chest with a huff. “Where the fuck are you taking me, Rafe?”

He glances at me from the corner of his eye before placing them back on the road. “Home.” comes his clipped answer.

I lean my head against the window. Why does he do this? He left me. Why does he care if I’m drunk at a party or not? Why can’t he just leave me alone and let me heal?

The smell of leather and his cologne fills my nose. I feel the tears begin burning the backs of my eyes, and I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat. I lift my head, turning my head to the side to look at him. He still looks so good, and it hurts. He has one hand firmly gripping the steering wheel and the other lays lazily in his lap.

He has on a tight baby blue polo, and khakis with a backwards hat on. I want him to kiss me, and tell me everything will be okay. Tell me that he made a mistake and he does love me. But I know that won’t happen. He meant what he said, and there’s no getting him back, no matter how badly I want him back.

A few minutes later, he’s pulling into the driveway of my parents house. He puts the truck in park and hops out, rounding the truck to my side and opening the door for me.

He reaches his hand out, and I take it. My heart pulls in my chest at the feel of his touch again. I miss him.

He helps me out of the truck, and walks me to the front door. I turn and face him, wanting to get some things off my chest before he goes.

“Why’d you do it?” I ask softly, tears stinging at my eyes and threatening to spill.

He sighs, and the look in his eyes hold slight regret. “I can’t answer that… I just, I didn’t want to be with you anymore. And I’m sorry I hurt you in the process, but I couldn’t pretend to love you when I didn’t.”

The first tear falls, and I blink rapidly, swiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand. “I still don’t understand what I did wrong..”

He places a hand on my shoulder, and I can’t stop the sob that is pulled from me.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N… I promise. I know this is so cliché, but it’s not you, it’s me. I just couldn’t commit.”

The tears are now flowing uncontrollably down my face and my body is shaking. I’m in pain. And he’s making it worse.

“I love you, Rafe. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry.. I just can’t. You need to stop loving me.”

I choke out a sob. “I don’t want to love you anymore. But I do.”

He sighs, letting his head fall and his eyes look to the ground.

This is the worst pain I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I’m not getting him back. I’ll never have Rafe Cameron in my life again. And that thought alone has me spiraling into a depression I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back from.

“Say something, Rafe.” I choke out.

His head lifts, and his eyes find mine again. He’s went from looking regretful, to angry in just seconds.

“What do you want me to say? I left you. And now you’re showing up to my friend’s house, getting fucking wasted and causing a scene. What the fuck do you want from me? I can’t fucking force myself to love you! I just fucking can’t! I’m sorry, but that’s the fucking truth. I never fucking loved you, Y/N. Let it the fuck go.”

Another harsh sob wracks my body as I come to terms with the fact that he truly never loved me. He never cared about me. He used me, and I let him. I grab my house key out of my small purse and stick it into the lock. I push open the front door, turning to face him before I walk inside, I say, “I could have lived without knowing you never meant anything you told me. You fucking broke me, Rafe. You ruined me. A once bright and happy fucking woman, and you’ve shattered me. I fucking hate you, and I hope you’re happy. Please, just leave me the fuck alone.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I slam the door in his face, quickly locking it and sliding my back down the door until my ass hits the floor. I bring my knees up to my chest, curling in on myself. I let out a loud scream, knowing my parents aren’t home tonight. Sobs wrack my entire body and I feel the physical pain in my chest from where he once lived. He fucking broke me, and I will never forgive him for that.

RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @lorelai-lilith @lizcameron @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust @sylverdragon @ditzyzombiesblog @the-sylver-dragon @nattywatty @urfavpersonality @stupidbxnny @mattyskies @corpsebridenightamare

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 12 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her. warning(s): a homophobic character saying some homophobic shit. listen, it's set in 2004 it was inevitable.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 13

"So..." Gretchen drawled from the passenger seat. "You're still not doing the dance with us?"

Regina glanced at her. "No."

"Cady's taking the lead." The brunette said, very badly acting as if she wasn't looking for a reaction. Regina resisted the urge to bite back, to defend her honour, and kept her eyes on the road.

"Great." She said, voice tart. "She's doing the stunt, is she?"

"Yup." Gretchen's breath hitched. "She's, uh, got it nailed down."

A mean smirk spread her lips. "Oh, really? I'm looking forward to it."

Gretchen swallowed. Regina spied from the rearview mirror Karen was watching the scenery pass by dreamily.

"What's up, Karen?" Regina asked.

"The sky!" Karen stated proudly. "And birds, I suppose. Hold on..." She felt up her boobs, pulling at her nipple obscenely. "Ouch. Yeah, it's gonna start snowing soon."

Regina, knowing the forecast had promised much the same thing, hummed. "Gonna have to stay in, then."

Gretchen shifted her weight on the passenger seat. She seemed uneasy. Both she and Karen had been severely late to arrive at her car today and had seemed... Dodgy. Regina could hardly blame her, though. Things had gotten weird recently.

She wasn't being nice. Not exactly. She'd just, kind of, dialled it back a little. A year ago she'd have spent the days leading up to Christmas break making the rounds, spreading nasty rumours about this and that, ensuring everybody's holidays were ruined just the right amount. This time, she'd forgone that.

A part of it, a large majority, was due to the Thanksgiving fiasco with Jorts. Another, smaller part, was because she was tired. She just didn't want to.

Arriving at her house, Regina parked and stepped out of her car. Gretchen and Karen followed her inside where mom greeted them with mugs of hot chocolate. Fancy chocolate and skim milk. Regina pointedly left her mug on the tray.

As she was going up the stairs, she noticed neither Gretchen nor Karen had grabbed a mug.

"Take them." She gestured vaguely back to her mom. "Don't be wasteful, girls."

Making her way up leisurely, she relished in the sound of the two girls scrambling to grab their mugs and then follow her as fast as possible. She might've loosened her hold on the student body, but Gretchen and Karen she'd keep. She didn't care if it was immoral or something, she'd done a lot of work to get them where they were.

"Shane Oman's doing a Christmas party this Friday," Gretchen informed them as they settled around Regina's room. "There's talk he's specifically invited Doris Harris."

"Who the fuck names their kid Doris Harris?" Regina scoffed and inspected her nails. She'd have to get a new set soon. "Are you going?"

"What? You- you're not?" Gretchen sputtered.

"I have... Plans." Important, top-secret plans. "Shane Oman is a sleazebag and a womanizer. Doris can have him." She said airily and looked at the two girls sitting on her floor.

"What plans do you have?" Gretchen probed. Karen looked on, seeming to be in her own world. Little specks of snow were beginning to fall outside.

"Private." She left it at that. "Who are you bringing to the party?"

"Probably Jason." Gretchen sighed. Regina's face twisted.

"You're still with that douche?" She sat down cross-legged near the two. "Why?"

"Oh, do you think I should break up with him?" Gretchen looked between her and Karen, seeming lost. "I can do that."

Regina rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe she'd put a little too much work in these two. They were old enough to think for themselves.

"Look, Gretchen..." She closed her eyes. "I'm not gonna say sorry. I'm, uh, just not going to." She didn't tack on the yet that meant to crawl up her throat. Too much too fast. "However, it's becoming apparent that my usual methods are no longer as effective. Exhibit A, Cady Heron."

Gretchen stared at her. Then, her head tilted to the side like that of an inquisitive dog. Karen was gaping at her, having probably not comprehended a single word. Regina sighed.

"Look, I'm not gonna just waste my time and energy putting people down anymore!" She was feeling way too defensive and the others hadn't even said anything. "I might, like, join a sports team or something for senior year. Focus on myself."

"Wow." Gretchen breathed out. "So, you're just gonna step down?"

"I'm still Regina fucking George. I'm not gonna stop being me." That being a vicious bitch with a lot of hate in her heart. "I'm just saying that it's getting old."

"Why? You- you can't just stop. That makes no sense. Someone's gonna take you over, like- like Doris Harris!" Gretchen took several short breaths, this close to hyperventilating. "Doris Harris is going to be the new Regina George!"

She rolled her eyes so hard her entire head rolled with them. "That statement contradicts itself. If she's the new Regina George, I'm still on top. The original."

"You sound so alike." Karen smiled. "You two are so cute. True love."

"Karen!" Gretchen snapped, sounding like a chihuahua. "Shush!"

"Who sounds alike?" Intrigued, Regina leaned forward. "Me and who? True love?"

"Oh, uh..." Karen looked to Gretchen, who was trying (and failing) to subtly shake her head, and then to Regina whose eyes bored into hers. "Uhhhhhhh..."

"She's rebooting." Regina huffed, leaning back. "Gretch, I just... I don't care anymore."

It had been a startling realization. Not a quick one despite the one eureka moment that'd brought it all together. There were things more important to her than maintaining a hierarchy in high school. It still was important, to a degree, but well. If she had to pick between one-upping some random girl at a shitty party and date night with Jorts, the choice was entirely too obvious. It was going to be date night every time.

(If she even had that privilege anymore. She's called her slurs, for fuck's sake. She could only hope her apology would be good enough.)

"How can you not care?" Gretchen screeched. Karen sipped at her hot cocoa nervously.

"I just don't." Something like this, not caring about something, wasn't a decision she could consciously make. At least, not entirely. Once you stopped caring, you just did. That was that.

It wasn't easy, though. She didn't have the strength of will to be deliberately mean to everyone, every single day, but she would not tolerate people stepping on her toes. If somebody encroached, she wouldn't hesitate to bring them down. Where the line went, distinguishing between a serious threat and a general nuisance, was the hard part.

Letting go of the instinct to just be mean was a challenging hurdle.

"She's changed you. All this time, you've been talking to her, haven't you? J, Jorts, whoever she is. She's corrupted you." Gretchen sneered. "What happened, Regina? Or should I say, Reggie?"

Regina looked at her friend, minion, accomplice- whatever.

"Excuse me?" She said, so quietly it could've been mistaken for a whisper.

"You heard me." Gretchen's sneer dissolved, old instinct to cower kicking in. "Reggie." She hissed, a feeble attempt at keeping her power.

"What the fuck do you know about J?" Regina could feel herself grow cold, anger mixing with panic, mixing with visceral, palpable terror.

Of course, all that manifested as blind fury.

"We know plenty about J. You've never shut up about her. Y'know, I used to think she was an ex-boyfriend of yours 'cause of the way you talked about her. And now, it all makes sense." Gretchen spread her arms provocatively. "Because she's gotten into your head, used her sticky, lesbo fingers to mix you up. Snap out of it, Regina. This is not who you are."

Anger roiling in her stomach, she was about to release pure acid onto the dimwitted, insensitive, stupid girl, when Karen spoke up.

"Gretchen, you're being stupid." She said so lightly. Both of them turned to look at Karen. She was watching the window, looking immensely pleased with herself. Yet another correct weather report.

"What?" Gretchen breathed out.

"Stupid. That's stupid. I didn't know you were, like, homophobic." Seeming to focus, Karen turned to face Gretchen. "I think I told you my brother's gay."

"Oh." Gretchen deflated. Regina didn't know what she should do. "Well, that's different, he's a guy! Lesbians are totally different."

"How?" Karen, more engaged than Regina had witnessed her be in a long time, kept her eerily wide eyes trained on Gretchen. "How is it any different?"

"Listen, everybody can do what they want with... Whoever, like, consents, but it's different when they shove their beliefs in people's faces." Regina, quite astounded, didn't know what to say. Karen did, though.

"J didn't shove anything in our faces. I don't think she shoved anything in Regina's face." She put her finger to her chin. "Unless they're into that sort of thing."

"Karen..." Regina sighed.

"Anyway, I think your opinions about gay people are weird, Gretchen. You should look into that."

"My opinions are just fine!" Gretchen's shoulders rose all the way up to her ears. "You guys are the weird ones! It's not like I hate gay people! There's just, y'know, healthy concern. If it was so easy to turn Regina then what can they do to impressionable little kids?" Gretchen licked her lips nervously. "What about Kylie?" She asked, looking to Regina for sympathy or agreement or something.

By that point, Regina had checked out.

"I don't think Regina's changed. Not really." Karen's owl eyes turned to her. "She's just... Shedding. Like a snake. Getting a new skin." She dragged her eyes up and down. "Yeah. New, shiny scales. Like a blonde, human green tree python. My dad has one. A snake one."

"Thanks," Regina said, tone flat. She then turned to Gretchen. "Get out."

Her hands trembled. Rage or fear, she couldn't tell where the tremor stemmed from.

"Regina, this isn't right-"

Just the sound of her voice made her blood boil. Her eyes stung too, but she refused to feel anything but anger.

"What isn't right is that you're still in my house. J is my childhood friend and the assumptions you've made about her are life-threatening. People are killed because they're gay, Gretchen. She hasn't turned me into anything, much less something you're insinuating." The claim that Jorts had turned her into a lesbian was false. If there were to be a claim about Regina's sexuality alone, then the answer wouldn't be so clear. "Get your fucking act together. I'm too good to bother with high school politics. We're going to college in two years. Stop being so small-minded and do something with your life for once."

She heaved in lungfuls of air. She stood up abruptly, walked to the door and pointed down the hallway.

"I-" Gretchen tried to say something, but Regina just reiterated her point.

"Out!"

She didn't particularly care that her friend (ex-friend) didn't have a ride home. She didn't care that she was a bigot, that Gretchen was right about her and Karen being the weird ones. She didn't care that Jorts had definitely changed her in some way.

As soon as the brunette had scuttled down the stairs, the front door slamming on her way out, Regina slumped against her door. She didn't care. She did not care.

"So, is it just us, now?" Karen asked from her spot on the floor. Regina was pretty sure she hadn't moved an inch since she plopped down. "Is J gonna be our new friend?"

"I don't know, Karen." She buried her face in her hands. Fuck. She wasn't supposed to care. "I didn't know Gretchen was like that."

"Hmm." Karen hummed. "I didn't know you weren't like that."

Her head snapped up, looking at Karen. Her expression was unreadable, like a book with blank pages.

"I... I'm scared, Karen."

"Yeah. My brother's boyfriend is from Alabama and he's been beat up before 'cause he looks gay. And he is gay, but the earring gave it away, I think. And my uncle died of AIDS and my family don't really talk about him and we weren't allowed to see him. My aunt that's in New York's been living with her best friend of, like, thirty years for forever and I went to visit one time and they had only one bedroom."

That was perhaps the longest, most coherent sentence Karen had ever said. Too bad the subject was so grim.

"Wow, Karen. Sounds like your family's full of..." What could she call them? Her mind defaulted to nasty slurs. "People like that."

"I guess." She smiled faintly. "I hear them crying sometimes, in my brother's room, when they're home for the holidays. Mama says I shouldn't go up and snuggle them until they feel better. They're having a moment." Karen looked confused at that. "Are we having a moment?"

Regina slowly unfurled from her slump against the door. "Maybe."

"Oh. Okay." She accepted easily. The familiarity of the scenario had a smile creeping back to Regina. "My brother smiles the biggest when me and his boyfriend team up against him at board games. My mom cries when we visit my uncle's grave. She tells us stories about him and shows us pictures. My aunt has three cats with her bestie and they call them their children and they wear matching rings."

"That's really sweet, Karen." Regina, now smiling in earnest, shuffled closer.

"I don't really get it." She said in the same light tone she'd use when talking about schoolwork. "Like, my brother's boyfriend is really nice so I don't get why people beat him up for dating my brother. And I think it was really mean that my grandma didn't let mama see her brother when he was sick. And my aunt and her best friend already live together, have cat-kids, and kiss on the mouth, so why can't they get married for real?"

Regina stared ahead, more than a little floored. Gretchen, simultaneously surprisingly and unsurprisingly, was a homophobe. Regina knew the political climate and knew that being openly gay was social suicide, and sometimes literal suicide, but she hadn't expected someone so close to her to be like that. They hadn't talked about it much, to be fair. Besides, Regina wasn't much better. While she might've not been a real homophobe, as in actually subscribed to the ideology, she'd done plenty of homophobic acts.

Whether or not in the name of projection or denial didn't really matter. Janis 'Imi'ike had been the first girl she'd subjected to hate crimes and discrimination, but not the last. How many times had she shoved other girls under the bus so she could get off scot-free? How many times had she done it for a twisted sense of fun?

Too many, was the easy answer. Not enough, whispered the scared, hidden thing in the back rooms of her mind.

And Karen was an ally. A supporter of the cause. And unexpectedly well-spoken when she had something she liked to talk about.

"Karen, I like girls."

"Me too!"

Regina's heart beat like a drum. She was beginning to sweat.

"No- I mean, like, I'm... A lesbian. I guess."

"Okay!"

She snuck a glance at the other girl. She was peering mournfully into her empty mug.

"Like your aunt and her best friend." She took a deep breath. "I like girls in that way."

"Uhh, duh," Karen smiled at her, beamed, really. "J is your true love."

"I wouldn't go that far." Regina sighed but had to purse her lips to keep from smiling. At the same time, a knot tightened in her chest, like hiccups trying to escape. She threw her head back and puffed out a breath, blinking rapidly.

"Let's go get more hot chocolate and I'll tell you about my talent show performance." She wiped discreetly at her eyes and extended a hand to Karen.

"Hot cocoa!" The girl exclaimed as she pulled herself up with Regina's help. "Ouuuhh, what kinda performance?"

"A song." Regina guided them down the hallway. "For her."

Obviously, she had more than just a song planned. A proper apology, for one, was in the works. Karen didn't need to know about that, though. That was between her and J.

Notes: Boo I lied it's not the last one. I thought it would be! I was wrong! I did start rambling like I kind of predicted in the notes of the last chapter. Or, like, I felt the ending would be a little too abrupt without some downtime. So have some Regina POV!

Will no longer be making predictions about when the end is. I'll only be contradicting myself lol. But like, the arc is coming to a close, a natural end is coming. And then the epilogue things.

Praying to god the taglist will work. Trying a new method today, fingers crossed! Hand-typing every single fucking name, no commas in between names, the utmost technicalities. This is the night fellas, the night we've been waiting for.

Edit: it didn't work. in fact, it worked worse than the other times! fuck! put another version of the list, back with commas, and it seems to tag some people but not all. gonna have to do some scouring on the internets.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(if you want to be added to the taglist, comment so on this post! beware it seldom works. i try my best.)

[ambrosiagoldfish]

hi! can i request headcanons of Adam x Male Angel! Reader who is sweet, kind and never curses? preferly sfw and nsfw but if u don't write smut for Male Reader, that's fine!

hope u have a Nice day <3

Adam x Kind Angel Reader HC’s

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, NSFW in latter half of post, He/Him pronouns with Male Genitalia. Slight Degradation/dirty talk. Fluff + Smut

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 820

A/n: thank you so much for the request! I had a lot of fun with this one! I did make it on the shorter side but that’s only because it’s quite difficult to make Headcanon’s 1000+ words without other characters but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Also I decided to make this little header thing for fics! I’ve seen a few others do it and the GIF’s I normally use are becoming a hassle to find. Let me know if you guys like it!

SFW

Oh boy, this relationship really is a match that could only be made in heaven. No one would have expected Adam to date a man who is the complete opposite of him. If anything, people expected someone like him or even Lute!! But you? They never could have predicted that.

But what can you do, opposites do attract.

You’re always being so kind to him, telling him he looks handsome, helping him with any and all work he might have to do, and on top of it you bring him gifts and trinkets! Not to mention all the delicious treats you get him that are almost as sweet as you.

And to be honest, this really messes with Adam, cause you’re literally so sweet and thoughtful but he doesn’t have anything to give you in return besides sex. At least that’s what he thinks but in reality he gives you so much more than he gives himself credit for.

He plays you songs on the guitar, takes you out to fancy restaurants, and over all treats you with love and affection than any other has. But even if none of that was true, you don’t do anything and everything for him because you want something in return. You love Adam completely unconditionally.

The no cursing thing is something that genuinely gets on his nerves. Cause like, he could never. This man has the mouth of a sailor and the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. Which is one of the traits you love about him, that he says what he wants. But also you’re just like “Sir, this is not what The Father intended-“

“Neither was putting my dick in another guys ass but look, I’m still here bitch!”

And it especially bugs Adam, if instead of cursing, you replace swears with other words. Like the other day you stubbed your toe when landing on ground and Adam had fully expected for you to do what he does, which is scream the loudest swear and be pissed off at everyone for 20 minutes. But instead….

“OW Fudging chocolate chip-“

“JUST SAY FUCK”

So, ever since that day, Adam has sworn to one day take your ‘cursing virginity’, at least that’s what he calls it. And he try’s so hard to do so, which is a slight bit of trouble cause he doesn’t want to like, be a complete douche to you.

So until he figures out a way to get you to curse, he’s pretty stumped at the moment. But still, he absolutely adores you.

NSFW

Oh Boy x2

Everything I said previously still stands if not double the amount. This man wants to do the👏Most👏Unholiest👏Things👏To👏You👏

Loves to see your kind and sweet personality slowly crumble because of his cock.

‘Who knew you could be such a slut?’

He loves that your personality carries over during sex, you give him everything you’ve got and then some. You want to do your best for him after all.

Speaking of which, if you worship him in any way that man is cumming IMMEDIATELY. He really just wants to feel like he’s above everyone else, and Surprise surprise, he has a praise and you being the, oh so thoughtful person you are, you make sure to completely indulge that aspect of him.

You babble so much about how good his cock feels hitting your prostate over and over again. How well he’s making you feel like like the Good Boy he is. It really gets it him going.

Remember how I said he’s trying to make you lose your ‘Cursing Virginity’? Yeah well, this is how. He is SO determined to get you to spill out just one swear while he goes to town on you. Is it the most holy thing he should do? No. But how could he not fuck your brains out till you break your own moral code?

He tries so hard too. He has yet to get you there but he has come close. When he had you in a mating press, legs over his shoulders, your ankle’s lightly hitting the base of his wings with each thrust.. You couldn’t stop begging for him to cum inside you as you came for the Xth time in a row.

“Please Adam! P-Please! Fu~“ you cut yourself off with a hand to your mouth.

Adam looked at you with his signature grin, his hips not stopping their movements to pump himself in and out of you. “Was you about to say something babe?”

You held your hand against your mouth shaking your head ‘no’ clearly trying to make it seem like you weren’t about to drop the f bomb.

“Mhm, right~ let’s see if I can pry some other ‘naughty’ fuxkin’ words out of ya!” He laughs a wicked laugh as he switches the position so that he’s somehow even more atop of you. Leaving you a completely, moaning, helpless mess for him to dominate >:)

[muniimyg]

7.5: the perilla leaf 》 series m.list

note: nah cos why did u guys blow up 6.5??? jus cos it was nasty sex ????? WAS THE MIRROR SEX CH NOT AS HOT ???? 😭 jus kidding … hello to my new readers !! hello to my day 1s !!! i’m so glad u’re here <3 enj this ch as we are near the end … i know i took a hot minute... but now u guys will know WHY. pls lmk ur thots ,, i am in desperate need of validation cos i’m losing motivation 😀✊🏽 mwah ,, wuv u all ,, until next time !

warnings: this ch is lengthy !!! i'm too lazy to do a word count... anyways,, miscommunication (jk & mina, mina & oc, eunwoo & jk & oc, etc etc), rejection (take a wild guess 😛) and jealousy ((take an even wilder guess)) angst & implied smut (((pls do not be like jk,, he’s such a douche in this ch))) oc has mean girl vibes... etc etc👨‍🍳✨

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @bloopkook @suciedad-divina @xelenavazquezx @kyjjk @parkinglot-nights @skzthinker @thisisaburnphone @rrjkive @hyuneyeon @chemicalclub @bbtsficrecs @ronyiboniyy @italiekim

//

When Yuna meets you, she's wearing Taehyung’s jersey. 

You keep your mouth shut about it, hoping if you don’t bring up her situationship with Taehyung—she won’t bring up yours with Jungkook. 

It’s simple girl logic. Something you’ve always loved about Yuna is that even though she is the nosiest human to ever exist—she knows her boundaries when it comes to you. With that, you’ve always felt safe with her. Eventually, you’ll tell her everything. Besides, what fun is being in a situationship when your loving friends come in with their thoughts and concerns? Evidentially bringing the truth to light and ending your delusion? 

No fun! 

Speaking of delusion…

“Oh my god,” Yuna gasps as she makes an effort to block your view. You huff at her, annoyed at how childish she’s acting. She waves her arms frantically, trying to keep you focused on the other side of the bleachers. Isn’t that ridiculous? For someone trying to get you to avoid looking a specific way, she draws all the attention to it.  “Babes, whatever you do, don’t look—___, seriously? Stop! Please, you’re just going to—”

In disbelief, you grumble; “why is Mina wearing Jungkook’s jersey?”

Your own words make you want to throw up. 

What the actual fuck. 

She’s standing a few feet away from the soccer team with her friends. The towels in their hands—at this point should be pompoms—make them look so… Entitled? You don’t even know half of the girls she’s standing with. Yet, you hate them. 

You despise them and the way they look so perfect. 

They’re all wearing a team member’s jersey… Mina just so happens to have Jungkook’s on. It makes you wonder… Did he give that to her? Did they meet after you two fucked? Did he really mean it when he said, “quickie?”

Did he mean anything he said to you at the party? Not that he was making promises... It's just irritating because you almost believed him. 

Believed in being his girl.

... Whatever that means.

His words were sweet but the way he looked into your eyes was his entire tell. They were sweeter. He had a softness in his gaze. It looked genuine—you swear it was. 

“I think the jerseys are from last season… Look!” Yuna tugs the fabric of the jersey sleeve to you and begins to point details out. “See? This is Taehyung’s from this season. It’s made of thinner material and even the colour is lighter! Mina’s is—”

You turn the other cheek, not bothering to entertain the rest of this conversation. What was the use? You’d only hurt yourself with all the overthinking and cause drama between you and Jungkook. Besides, you have faith in him. He knows how you feel when it comes to Mina… He wouldn’t push it, right? And if anything… You can’t seem to think of a reason why he would be upset with you right now. 

The quickie was just a quickie.

Not much to say. He was normal—until he left. Jungkook had left without saying goodbye and it made you feel a little weird. Not even a text? Not even a heads-up? Not even a kiss? Odd of him. 

Again, it’s nothing worth starting a fight. 

… And besides, when were you guys the type to fight over things like this? You two aren’t dating. Communication—in this sense—is it really necessary? 

“Shit,” Yuna nudges you. “She’s waving at us. Wave back so she doesn’t know we’re talking shit—”

“We’re not talking shit,” you hiss. “Who even cares?”

“Okay, jealous era!” Her words earn an eye roll from you. Quickly, you give in and flash Mina a faint smile and wave your hands at her. She giggles and returns to chatting with her friends. 

“Remind me again… Why did I come?” you groan as you take a seat. Ignoring you, Yuna sits down beside you and takes her phone out. You peek over and see that she’s texting Taehyung good luck. “Do you go to all their games?”

“I try to.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Yuna snorts. “Taehyung likes the support.”

You bite your tongue. 

Should you even ask? It’s probably safer to assume, right?

“Do you like Taehyung?” Your words come out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Afraid of her reaction, you brace yourself for her defensiveness. Instead, her lips curve into a smirk.

“Do you like Jungkook?”

Stupid question. 

Just when Yuna thinks you’re about to react to her question, the crowd begins to cheer. You two turn your attention to the field where your Uni’s team and the opposing team all come out and shake each other’s hands. Then, they run a small lap around the bleachers and briefly greet everyone. 

You watch Jungkook in silence. You don’t cheer his name or even wave. It doesn’t matter though. He sees you. 

When he does, he playfully squints his eyes and tilts his chin up. With both of his hands, he makes the OK hand gesture and brings the circle parts to his eyes. Then, he flips one. 

69. 

Your eyes widen. As you throw your head back to laugh, out of instinct, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles and returns your gesture by blowing you a kiss.

Mina watches as he blows his kiss towards you.

Her cheers go quiet. For a split second, you two make eye contact. She smiles at you shyly. You gulp and turn your attention back to the field. Shortly, the game begins. As the crowd cheers, she finds her mood again. Meanwhile, your attention goes back and forth to Mina, cheering on the sidelines, and Jungkook, playing like losing isn’t an option.

For some reason, you feel a little bad. She’s so supportive and cute (you hate to admit it)… And he’s… Well, why does it matter what he is? All you know is that he isn’t hers. 

Yet, he isn’t yours either.  

Jungkook scores the final goal. 

Of course, he does. 

As the crowd goes wild, you can’t help but join in. His teammates run to him, engulfing him like the ace he is. Jungkook pokes his head out and looks at the crowd. When his eyes land on you, you offer him and smile and a thumbs up. He sticks his tongue out at you before he returns to his victorious team. 

Shortly after, Yuna guides you down to the field the minute your area clears. As she does this, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. What were you going to say to him? Even if you had already seen and spent time with him today, right now feels a lot different. 

The way to the field isn’t that long of a walk. Suddenly, you’re standing across from him. He’s saying his last few goodbyes to his teammates and hanging back with Taehyung. Yuna sprints to Taehyung, happily congratulating him and teasing his soccer moves. You watch in awe as the two bond and laugh together. Walking to Jungkook, you keep your head high. 

He would be happy you showed up, right? You didn’t text him that you were coming… But this is a good surprise! At least, you hope it is. He mentioned not telling you about the game because he didn’t feel like begging you to come. Well, here you are. No begging and no sour attitude. You’re here for him. 

It’s all shits and giggles until Mina beats you to him.

He’s only a few steps away from you, but in an instant—he feels so far away. You pause, wondering if you should continue to walk to him. It doesn’t matter if he was watching or waiting for you to come to him; you can leave right now. You could turn around and just wait by the bleachers. Or… You could just go home.

Perhaps there’s a look in your eye that gives your thoughts away or maybe, your friends just know you too well. 

Yuna catches you backing away. She glares at you and side-eyes the direction towards Jungkook. In response, you shake your head with a polite smile—a smile that is trying to mask the fact that you kind of want to rip Mina’s cute head off. 

Polite. 

Just as you’re about to turn away, you feel someone grab onto your forearm. Looking up, you realize it’s Eunwoo. 

“When we were dating, I almost always begged you to come to these games,” Eunwoo complains, grinning ear to ear. “Funny seeing you here.”

Eunwoo isn’t on the team.

He doesn’t even play soccer, really. Basketball is more of his thing. In all fairness, he loves sports and a lot of his friends are on the soccer team. When you two were dating, you were almost never together on Friday nights because of these stupid games. He’d beg for you to come with him and you’d reject and promise him your Saturday night. 

“You aren’t even on the team,” you laugh, earning an embarrassed grin from him. “What’s the point of going to a game if your boyfriend isn’t on the team?”

He tilts his head. Suddenly, your words sink in. Did you really just say that?

“I came with Yuna!” you attempt to save yourself. “She always comes to these things… For Taehyung or something.. I—I just thought I’d c-check it out.”

Eunwoo gives you a funny look.

You aren’t sure if he bought your excuse but you’ll pretend like he did just to salvage any dignity you have left. Everything feels so embarrassing right now. Nothing is going your way and you just feel so out of place. 

Is it overstimulation?

You came all this way to see one person—why are there so many other people?

“Are you here to see Jungkook?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. “You know… Since he’s on the team.”

Eyes widened, you shake your head profusely. “Ew! W-what? No! Who said that? I’m here because my friends are on the team and—”

“You’re a bad liar,” he interrupts you. “Always have been. You should stick with being honest.”

You huff at him. Out of everyone here, he’s probably your safest option when it comes to admitting the truth. In a way—in your way—you give in.

“He’s talking to Mina.”

“Oh,” Eunwoo turns his head, seeing for himself what all your fuss is about. When he takes it all in, he turns back to you with a shrug. “She’s cute.”

“She is cute… You should date her.”

Eunwoo rolls his eyes before engulfing you in a bear hug. He ruffles your hair, knowing you hate it when he does this. You groan and shove him away from you. As you compose yourself, he sighs. 

“Yah, ___,” Eunwoo lifts his finger and points at you. With a serious tone, he warns you: “Don’t be so obvious with your jealousy. It hurts my feelings that you never acted this jealous when it came to me.”

You smile at him sweetly. “That’s because you’re a well-trained dog.”

“Ouch!” Eunwoo laughs, pretending you hurt his heart. “Yes, it’s true. What can I say? Any day being your bitch is a good day to be a dog… That’s why I’m still begging for you back even though I broke up with you.”

With a whiney tone, you say, “oh, shut up.” 

“Still a no to the whole getting-back-together-with-me thing?” he winks, sightly kidding and slightly not. You cross your arms and shake your head at him. He attempts one last time. “Awh, come on! We can even fake date just to get a reaction out of Jungkook… I have no problem betraying friendship for love.”

“Oh my god, shut up!”

This time, you roll your eyes at him and tell him he’s being ridiculous. You remind him that his little drunken confession at the party was close to meaningless. He knew from the very start that you’re the type to move on when things end. Good or bad, you never look back. You’ve lived your life this way for so long—you can’t recall whether it brought you more luck or pain. 

Eunwoo doesn’t care for your little speech. Instead, he laughs and continues to push your buttons.

“Wow, you must love Jungkook at this point. You know, you can just say that, right? You loveeee—“

You lunge yourself to him, attempting to playfully put him in a chokehold. He’s a lot taller than you so you struggle. Honesty, it’s cute and he can’t resist you. Eunwoo laughs and bends his knees, pretending to struggle as you seek revenge. He gives in, letting you have your way.

Meanwhile, Jungkook can’t concentrate on his conversation with Mina.

The big smile on his face faded as he watched you turn away when you were only a few steps away from him. How could you do such a thing? You walking towards him made him so happy. It was a sight he had been daydreaming of for the past few days. Though he saw you just hours before, he didn’t expect to see you at the game. 

He thought you didn’t care. 

Yet, there you were. 

Shit, how does he even begin to explain how it felt to see you there? How annoying it was when you threw your head back to laugh, and his heart raced like never before? He was obsessed with you. Every little thing you do—he was your number one fan. 

Except for moments like these. 

Where you hesitate as you walk towards him. Where you get distracted and forget about him just because your ex showed up.

Where you give up. 

“... And so, I guess… What I’m trying to ask is if you’d want to grab dinner with me and my friends? And then maybe we could do something after that… Alone? Like just the two of us?” Mina’s voice cuts in, interrupting Jungkook’s thoughts of you. “We could watch a movie at my place? My roommate went home for the weekend so we’d have the place to ourselves.”

He stares blankly, trying his best to process everything Mina is blabbing about. 

“Ohh… Thanks for the offer! You know the team and I usually celebrate with dinner together, right? ” Jungkook says it happily as if he isn’t rejecting her. “Next time?”

Idiot, Jungkook thinks to himself.

No next time. No this time. No nothing.

Why does he do this? Why does he always push things back for Mina when he doesn’t even want to reschedule? He doesn’t want to reject her… But he does.

Within seconds, the disappointment in Mina’s eyes fades when she comes up with a solution. Her eyes light up, believing in the compromise she’s about to pitch. “Then maybe I could join you guys? Taehyung and Yuna already know me and—”

“But it’s a team thing.”

Mina’s eyebrows furrow. Slightly offended, she pushes the conversation. “Oh… But Eunwoo goes. Yuna does too. She isn’t on the team—she’s just dating Taehyung.”

“No, she isn’t,” Jungkook laughs, finding the assumption cute. “At least, not yet.”

It’s not that funny, though. Mina doesn’t laugh and the silence between the two is heavy. Her facial expression drops, indicating her mood shifts to something less enthusiastic.

Annoyance?

Desperation?

Hurt.

“___ isn’t on the team. She isn’t dating you… But she’ll be there, right?” Mina chokes her words out as if she’s accepting her defeat. Saying this is a wildcard, but she plays it anyway. “Or what I mean to say is that she’s not dating you… Not yet. Haha.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s dry and it’s… Nothing. No words, no thoughts.

He can’t think of a defense and he isn’t even really sure what he’s supposed to say. In his lifetime, he has gotten more than a handful of confessions… But for some reason, this one feels painful.

Pitiful.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jungkook breathes. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at Mina shyly. “I really appreciate the support—I really do. It’s just… I never wanted yours.”

Mina stares at him blankly.

“Okay, I get that… But… This is what you do when you like someone. You do thoughtful things they never ask for. You sit through their practices even if it’s pouring rain or hot as fuck. You wash your towels with their favourite laundry detergent because they mentioned they're sensitive to strong scents—no, actually… I think you drive them home and ignore the other girl who sits with his friends and waits for him… Right? You blow her kisses from across the field instead of the girl that helped set up for the game.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. 

“Mina—”

“I waited for you and you never came. You didn’t even text me. Do you know how that feels? To wait for someone and they don’t even—god, I like you so much I made myself look sooo stupid.” Mina groans in frustration. She puts her hands to her face, taking a breath in before continuing to get things off her chest.

“I should’ve left. Instead, I stayed and checked my phone every two minutes in case you texted. Then, I thought, okay… At least I can try to bond with your friends. But you know what? All they could talk about was you and ___. I sat there, listening and nodding like an idiot.”

Fuck.

Jungkook wants to sympathize with her, but can’t find the words or the strength to reach out. As he hesitates, Mina gathers her final thoughts and makes her last few moves. Abruptly, she shoves the towel in her hands to Jungkook’s chest. 

“She didn’t even know you joined the team again after quitting. She has never gone to a game until today. She doesn’t even chant your name or cheer when you score a goal. She’s over there, flirting with her ex-boyfriend while you’re here rejecting me.” Mina fumes. “Is that who you’re going to pick over me? If so, fine. Nice choice, Jungkook. I wish you the best. Thanks for wasting my time.”

“You chose to be here. Look at yourself. Why are you even wearing that?” Jungkook points at the jersey she has on. Mina tightens her lips, suddenly feeling ridiculous. She pushes past him but pauses when Jungkook mumbles the words, “You led yourself on.”

Sharply, Mina raises her voice. “She doesn’t even want you.”

Ouch. 

Mina’s words hit Jungkook right in the heart. Right in the spot where his insecurities and overthinking take place—the words strike him. 

They hurt him.

They kill him.

“Don’t speak for her,” he warns, gaze lowered and stern. “She may not have cheered as loud as you during the game, but who fucking cares when she was chanting my name the other night… Or was it before the game today? I can’t remember. Fucked around too much to remember.”

Mina darts Jungkook a glare. “You’re an insensitive asshole. Do you know that?”

Jungkook huffs, beginning to feel frustrated. “Your feelings are yours, my feelings are mine. So, you don’t get to say shit about ___ to me—not about the way she treats me or her choices. I’m a grown man, Mina. I can figure it out when I need to pull out and how much shit I can take.”

“Mind giving me a few lessons, then?” she asks, eyes beginning to tear up. “I think I put up with yours for a minute too long.”

Everything becomes difficult in that exact second. There’s so much empathy Jungkook wants to express, but can not. He should not. He needs to pull away now or else he would be doing exactly what she’s accusing him of doing—leading her on. 

“I’m sorry, Mina,” Jungkook apologizes softly, truly feeling stuck. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Mina sighs, eyes watery from the tears that threaten to fall. “You’re a grown man, Jungkook. You can figure it out when you need to pull out and how much shit you can take.” 

Jungkook lowers his head, feeling bad for his harsh words. A part of him hates how this interaction went down. He could’ve been kinder. He should’ve been kinder. At the same time, it feels like this is all worth it. There’s no better way to end things than just to cut everything off. 

Still, he attempts one last time. 

“Mina,” Jungkook raises his face and looks at her in the eyes. “Look, I was as honest as I could be. I didn’t know I would like her so much. I didn’t know I’d feel this way about her at all… It just happened. I don’t mean to be an asshole. I didn’t mean to lead you on. I’m so sorry. With my whole heart, I am so fucking sorry."

Mina gulps, a little taken aback by his words. There’s a relief in her heart when Jungkook expresses his feelings to her. At least, there was clarity.

At least, he was honest.

At least, it ends like this. 

She balls her fists and raises them. Waving them in the air, slowly and cutely, she smiles at Jungkook one last time.

Softly, she cheers, “go, Jungkook. Go.”

In the past, the friendgroup seating arrangement was a no-brainer. The order always went: other friends, you, Yuna, Taehyung, and then Jungkook. This was the blueprint. 

Tonight, it’s different.

It earns a few confused looks, but nothing major. No one thinks twice about it. Maybe that’s because they didn’t catch the small moment in between—the one where Jungkook tugged on the hem of your crewneck and you complied. Taking a seat beside him, he keeps his hands near yours.

Though the restaurant is packed and busy, sitting beside Jungkook feels slow. 

Was this even possible? For time to feel like it slows down when you’re beside him? It’s like every gesture he makes, every word that comes out of his mouth, and every stolen glance at you feels mindlessly slow. Yet, your heart races beside him. Even then, you can’t deny how gentle he is. 

How every fingertip brush he makes is intentional. How he eventually hooks his pinky onto yours. How he inches closer and closer to you. Each time, you look away and pretend you don’t notice it. You do. You really do. 

It feels strange.

Back at the field, it felt like he didn’t pay attention to you. Was it because of whatever he and Mina had discussed moments before? He didn’t talk about it when he joined you and Eunwoo. Instead, he kindly greeted you two and excused himself to quickly shower at the locker room before heading out to dinner. You and Eunwoo agreed to wait for him. 

So, you can’t put your finger on it.

He was acting strange, but it wasn’t like anyone else was saying anything about it. A part of you wonders if it’s all in your head. Even though he had acknowledged your presence and excused himself politely—it felt like he was distant. 

It hurt your feelings. 

Why is he acting so weird? The possibilities you make in your head feel limited. The entire way here, you kept replaying moments between you two recently. What could have gone wrong? What could you have done wrong? What about him changed his mind about you? These thoughts flooded your mind so much that you didn’t even realize that he tugged on your crewneck for you to sit down beside him. 

Now, here you are. 

Mind racing with anxious thoughts, sitting beside the man who is the cause.

Your mind is telling you one thing, but his actions are proving otherwise. You don’t know which to believe and it makes you unsure of what to do. Everything is muffled and you can barely make out the small talk happening around you. The only thing clearer than your confused feelings are Jungkook’s gentle touches.

… That is until Yuna and Eunwoo begin to argue. 

“Don’t you usually sit beside her?”

Yuna dismisses him. “Who cares?”

“I do,” Eunwoo protests. “If anyone is going to steal your seat, it’s going to be me!”

“No! You can’t. You can sit beside Taehyung—”

Eunwoo crosses his arms at her. “I thought you liked me. Am I no longer your favourite?”

His words trigger Yuna’s shoulders to drop. She bites her tongue and side eyes Jungkook. Jungkook catches her look and simply clears his throat. Then, he nudges you. 

“Let Yuna sit beside you.” Jungkook’s tone is serious yet casual. You tilt your head at him and give him a weird look. 

“Why does it matter?” you press. In all honesty, you aren't sure of what answer to expect. You're just poking the bear just because you can.

“I’m sitting beside you,” Jungkook points out. “It only makes sense that Yuna sits on your other side. Your favourite people in the world, you know?”

Unfazed, you shake your head. “Be honest… Do you not want Eunwoo to sit beside me?”

“I’m sitting beside you. Focus on that.”

You huff. “It’s yes or no, Jungkook.”

“Or.”

He answers without a lighthearted tone. Without a smile. Without the intention of miscommunicating what he wants. You can’t help but pity him. It’s obvious he’s a little sensitive right now and considering how he left things with you earlier—maybe you should be kinder. Maybe you should cater to him tonight. 

But… At the same time… 

Jungkook is being difficult, so maybe you should run the same play. 

Okay, fine. 

Since the ball is in your court, you shoot your shot. 

“Eunwoo,” you say sweetly, “sit beside me. Yuna can sit beside Taehyung.”

Taehyung, who is sitting across from you, gulps. He instantly feels like he’s caught in the middle. Between trying to please every request Yuna throws at him to catering to his friends—when would this agony end? When could he finally have peace and not get poop anxiety from all this drama?

“But ___—”

You hush your best friend. Yuna pouts and glares at Eunwoo. Truth be told, she doesn’t care if she’s the one sitting beside you or not—she just didn’t want it to be Eunwoo. For Jungkook’s sake; she wanted it to be him. But by the looks of it, Jungkook is in a mood and you’re way too in your head tonight. Ultimately, she accepts her defeat and slumps beside Taehyung. 

Taehyung tries to cheer her up by pointing at her favourite foods. It works. She instantly smiles and sits up with pep. He lets out a breath of relief and shares a look with Jungkook. A, that-was-a-close-one kind that makes Jungkook laugh. You watch as he laughs and can’t help but feel your annoyance begin to fade. 

Okay… It’s confirmed. He’s in a weird mood tonight, but he’s still Jungkook. 

He is still your Jungkook. 

As Eunwoo settles beside you, he strikes up a conversation with the other teammates around him. On your left, you just hear Eunwoo talking your ear off. On your right, Jungkook goes on his phone and goes quiet. Only every so often would he chuckle or make a side comments. 

It’s then that you realize you hate where you’re sitting. 

So, you do the only logical thing you can. 

Flirt with him.

Slowly, you place your hand on Jungkook’s thigh. You lean forward, pressing some weight on him. He puts his phone down and looks up at you. Cutely, you smile at him and take your hands off his lap. 

Patting his head, you softly tell him; “Jungkook, you played well.”

You run your fingers through his damp hair and look into his eyes. You bat your eyelashes a few times, attempting to act cute. Deep inside, you hope this works. You hope you win him over. 

You do.

Right then and there, all his plans go out the window. He will never get used to this. He loves hearing praises from your lips. In complete trance of how you say it, what you say, and why you say it—everything. He craves for you to be obsessed with him the way he is with you. 

So, fuck it.

He could pause his sulky attitude for you. 

Anything for you. 

Jungkook’s lips curve into a half smile. “Don’t be cute.”

“Why?” you pout. “Is it working?”

“Are you trying to entice me?” He chuckles before leaning close to you and lowering his voice. “It’s working, I’ll admit that… But it’s kind of shameless of you to be trying so hard right now. Our friends are here, ___… Don’t start shit you can’t finish, pookie.”

Playfully, you hit his shoulder. “I always finish.”

“Is that so?”

You look at him as innocent as possible. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

Jungkook goes dizzy.

As he’s about to make a shameless remark, the waiter squeezes himself in between you two and places water down for the table. Everyone thanks him and reaches for a cup. Jungkook hands you one and you drink it. 

“Thirsty as always,” he shakes his head at you fondly. 

Then, he takes a sip of his water. By complete accident, some water spills and gets the corner of his mouth and a bit of his chin wet. You laugh, put down your cup, and tug on your sleeves. Without much thought, you move closer to him and use your sleeves to dry him. 

“You always spill your drink,” you nag. “Are you a child?”

He stays still, not wanting you to move away. “No.”

You taunt him. “Baby.” 

“Who the fuck is baby?” Jungkook mimics. 

Lowering your gaze, you send him a warning look. He laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. As you finish cleaning him up, you sneak in a final comment. “Yah, a lot of girls would break up with you if you do this shit on a first date… Such an ick. Imagine going out with a guy that needs a sippy cup.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at how extensive you’re stretching this out. “It’s charming. I make it charming. My girlfriend would just have to get over it. It’s that simple.”

“Sure,” you agree with a sarcastic tone. “As if I can ever get over it.”

At this point, Jungkook is going to lose track of how many times you’ve made his heart skip a beat. This is completely unfair. How do you say shit like that so easily and captivate him without even knowing? Should he say something about it? 

As he opens his mouth to speak, he loses his chance. 

“___, Jungkook,” Eunwoo chimes in, “Since this is ___’s first time eating with the team… Should we just order our usual?”

Jungkook nods, agreeing with the suggestion. You do the same and state you feel indifferent. Eunwoo then goes on and on about the food. He tells you about the dishes he thinks you’ll like and which ones you should avoid due to your preferences. All the shit he says are things Jungkook has noticed about you before—it just annoys the hell out of him that Eunwoo is telling you all this shit like he’s still your boyfriend. 

He isn’t. 

So, he should shut the fuck up, right?

Jungkook’s thoughts are put on pause when his phone vibrates. He looks at the notification and reads:

Yuna [8:07PM]: stop making that face

Yuna [8:07PM]: idk if u're jealous or need to shit

Jungkook [8:08PM]: lol but like did u see her flirting w me 😌🤘

Yuna [8:08PM]: yes. do u want a medal or smt?

Jungkook [8:09PM]: she wants me fr 🦄💕

Yuna [8:11PM]: is that why she nd eunwoo look like they're abt to kiss?? 😳

Instantly, Jungkook looks up from his phone and turns to you. You're just laughing and talking with Eunwoo. No kissing in sight.

Yuna [8:11PM]: made u look 🤣

Jungkook [8:13PM]: not funny.

Yuna's laughter fills the room. You turn to her, breaking away from your conversation with Eunwoo.

"What's so funny?" you ask.

She shrugs with a smug smile on her face. Pointing at him, she teases, "Jungkook's in a mood."

You look at Jungkook and see him roll his eyes. He sinks into his seat and mutters a few inaudible words. From the looks of it, you can almost swear that his eyes were a little teary. Was he about to cry or something?

"You okay?" you ask him softly. Your concern grows as he lifts his face and looks at you. He looks tired. Exhausted even. "Do you wanna talk?"

Jungkook feels a sense of relief.

You care.

Thank god you care.

In response, he squeezes your thigh. “I’m good,” he promises. “You okay?”

You nod, leaning in. “More than.”

It happens so fast. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you were barely an inch away from his lips. He even dipped his head—and then you caught yourself.

Holy shit, were you just about to kiss him? In front of everyone? When did this become second nature? You want to believe that only you caught yourself… But it’s too late. Jungkook was bracing himself. 

He knew what you were about to do. He was giving in too.

As you break away, his heart breaks a little. Laughing awkwardly, you turn back to Eunwoo and continue your conversation with him. At this point, he isn’t sure if he’s just hangry or purely annoyed with everything and everyone. He feels so alone. He hates that you’re right beside him too. 

He’s so fucking over this. 

When the food arrives, the spread is breathtaking. Maybe it’s because everyone is hungry as fuck and the game was a huge success, but the mood suddenly lightens. The smell of meat being grilled and the sound of the side dishes being passed around was music to everyone’s ears. 

As Jungkook grills the meat, he places the first one ready on your plate. He continues to pile your plate. With lingering eyes, Taehyung groans out in frustration. 

“Yah!” He cries, “that’s unfair. You can’t possibly give ___ all that meat! Give me some!”

Yuna hits him playfully and tells him to let Jungkook be. She reaches over to the other grill and places meat on his plate. Taehyung huffs, and sinks into his seat. 

“Jungkook used to put meat on my plate first.” Taehyung continues to whine.

You all hear him but choose to ignore his words. You aren’t even sure how you’re supposed to act with this. Jungkook was always sweet to you. He has always looked out for you. He has been a gentleman… Now that you’re paying attention to him—you can’t help but feel so infatuated. 

You're drawn to him.

“Do you even eat that much meat?” Eunwoo teases, as he reaches over your plate and picks a piece of meat off. He shoves it in his mouth and you laugh at him. His cheeks are all puffy from the food he stuffed in. 

“No, but that doesn’t mean you can steal it off my plate,” you mutter. “You’re such a thief.”

“I stole your heart once upon a time,” he reminds you. “I’ll be the thief if you’re the cop.”

You cringe at him. “Thank god you broke up with me.”

“You used to love my lines!” Eunwoo jokes, suddenly ruffing your hair like how he did at the field. You shove his hand away and groan at him. 

Jungkook witnesses it all.

The entire time, he feels like he’s being tortured. Sure, you’re allowed to have other guy friends. Sure, you’re allowed to have exes… So why was this bothering him so much? Eunwoo is a good guy too! He’s his friend and it’s not like Jungkook has dibs. If we’re being realistic—Eunwoo had you first. 

Cue Jungkook’s insecurities. 

Do they know how long it took for Jungkook to get to where he is with you right now? How long he had to wait just for him to be able to hook your pinkies together under a table? How long it took for you to sit down beside him without arguing? How long it took for you to accept his presence? How long it took him to get you to act cute?

Too long.

And here Eunwoo is—a mere ex-boyfriend—getting your banters and treating you like you’re still his. 

It makes Jungkook sick to his stomach. He’s losing his appetite by the second.

His thoughts are put on pause when Eunwoo proclaims: “___, look! Our favourite… Perilla leaves!”

Jungkook’s eyes bulge. 

You smile at Eunwoo and practically celebrate with him. As he picks one up with his chopsticks, another sticks to it. As you pick up your chopsticks, you take the other side and peel the perilla leaf apart. Together, you and Eunwoo giggle and wrap the perilla leaf with some meat. Suddenly, he brings his wrapped perilla leaf to your mouth. Happily, you eat what he offered.

“Good bite, baby.” Eunwoo praises you.

With a mouth full, you childishly hit him and scold him for not taking a bite himself. Eunwoo listens and picks up another perilla leaf. You two repeat to peel them a part and—

Jungkook wants to kill himself.

Oh god, he wants to rip Eunwoo’s head off. 

To make matters worse, Yuna attempts to be of rescue.

"Eunwoo," she gasps. "Aren't you being a little too shameless?"

Eunwoo shrugs as he prepares another bite for you. "Yuna, just because there's a goalie doesn't mean I can't score."

That does it. Something inside Jungkook snaps. He wants to be so mad at you—no, he is so mad at you.

How could you do this to him? How could you let Eunwoo say such things?

Don’t you know what this all means? Falling in love. Marriage. Children. A whole fucking nuclear future with someone that wasn’t him. It’s fucking insane you’d let Eunwoo go this far… And right in front of Jungkook? Were you serious? Do you hate him this much?

In a hurry, Jungkook takes his phone and opens his iMessage. He taps on your name— which is easy because it’s pinned—and sends you a text. 

Then, he puts his phone down and begins to shove food into his mouth. He stays quiet and glares at the meat as if the meat did him wrong too. He can’t even begin to express how he feels—it’s just all over the place. He is all over the place.

When his text is sent, your phone vibrates. You glance at Jungkook, a little confused as you see that he sent you a text. Sliding your phone open, you tap on his message.

mfker [8:32PM]: video attachment

Curiously, you tap on the video. As it loads, you turn down your phone volume just in case it was too loud. When the volume icon goes away, your screen reveals a familiar zooming in shot of Jungkook's face. He rolls his eyes and you hear yourself laugh. Suddenly, the angle switches to you holding the camera out at arms length.

You see the corner of your face. Your boobs. Your ass. His abs. His smirk. Him. Naked.

Your hands fly to your mouth, stopping yourself from gasping out-loud.

The sex tape.

Your sex tape with him.

In a split second, you shut your phone and turn it over. Wide-eyed, you push yourself away from the table and make the effort to excuse yourself. Everyone acknowledges your announcement but for Jungkook. He doesn’t even look up.

As you get up, you turn to him. You utter under your breath, “meet me outside. We need to talk.”

The minute Jungkook slams his car door shut, you get right to the point. 

“What the fuck was that?”

Jungkook settles into his seat, unafraid of your anger. He was unashamed. What he did was reckless, yes, but it was no mistake. 

With a nonchalant tone, he answers you. “What? The video? You told me to send it to you.”

Groaning, you bring your hands to your face. “Not during dinner! Not when our friends are sitting beside us! That was fucking embarrassing. Are you trying to humiliate me? That shit is private. It's us intimate. What kind of game are you playing—”

“I’m not playing any fucking game,” Jungkook controls his rage. “Why are you so embarrassed? Because it’s me fucking you in that video and not Eunwoo?”

Your eyes widen at his words. 

You want to scream. Instead, with a calm and slow tone, you confront him. “So… That’s what this is about?” 

Jungkook sighs heavily, clearly fed up with this conversation already. He doesn’t answer you. Instead, he reaches over and opens his glove compartment. As he rummages through, you huff at his avoidance. When he finds what he needs, he aggressively shuts the compartment closed. You watch as he brings his device to his lips. Inhaling, he takes a hit of his vape. 

You glare at him.

“Can you do that on your own time? I’m trying to talk to you.”

He turns to you and blows a puff at you. 

“Jungkook,” you warn him, “stop it.”

In response, he shrugs and takes a final hit. 

“I didn’t even know you vape,” you say quietly. “Aren’t you supposed to take care of your body and shit? As an athlete?”

He chuckles at the label. Athlete. Sure, that’s what he was… But he was also on a break for a good amount of time. He was also human. 

“I’m just stressed,” he admits. “You make me stressed.”

You laugh and take the opportunity to grab the vape from his hands. Without much thought, you open your door and toss it out. He rolls his eyes and just as he’s about to open his car door to retrieve it—you catch his wrist. 

“Can you focus on me?” 

As much as he hates to admit it, your words will always win him over. Even though he hesitates, he surrenders. Jungkook settles himself into his seat again and puts his hands on the wheel. Bowing his head, he shuts his eyes and takes a moment. 

Silence fills the car as you two try to figure out which direction this conversation should go. So far, not so good. 

You attempt once again. This time, you go from a different angle. 

“Why did you leave me earlier today? I know you were busy but… You didn’t even say goodbye.” In all honesty, you hate it when you say shit like this. You feel so weak and like you could let out a sob in between words. Not to mention the fact that you’re rarely in this position. This was new. You have never fought for anyone the way you fight for Jungkook.

“I had a game.”

Jungkook’s concise answer irks you. Was he fucking serious? Could he try even just a little bit?

“I know you had a game.. At least, I found out through Mina’s Instagram post… Which… I mean, you didn’t even bother telling me you had a game. Yuna goes to those—I can too.”

No.

That’s not even what you really mean to say. What you mean to say is: I want to go to your games. I want you to want me to be there. I want you to care if I’m there or not. I want to be the one wearing your fucking jersey. 

Jungkook responds plainly, “I told you… I didn’t feel like begging for you to come.”

“You don’t have to beg,” you pitch. “I would have—”

“You would have what?” he sneers. “Would you have come then? Without me asking? Without me telling you? Or did you come out of spite? Like, the fact that Mina was around me and you weren’t… Is that what brought you to me today?” 

Hilarious.

Wow, what a dick.

“No,” you object. “I came because you came over for a quickie and then left. Without a word. Without a kiss. It was unlike you. I wanted to talk about it but you’re acting like this and I can’t—I don’t understand what’s going on. Jungkook, what’s going on?”

At this point, you're practically desperate. You reach for his hands. Eyes searching for his, he shakes your grip off his hands the second you intertwine them. You furrow your eyebrows, completely confused and shocked at his rejection. Wasn’t this what he wanted?

“I hate you.”

Suddenly, your throat feels dry. In an attempt to calm your mind, you search for his hands again. For the second time, he pushes yours away. Then, you brace yourself. What he says next could ultimately be the end… Right? This is where everything is headed. 

The end. 

Then, he says the oddest thing. 

“I hate perilla leaves.”

You tilt your head at him. “What?”

“Are you going to marry him?”

You blink.

“Who?”

“Eunwoo.”

For a moment, you wonder if he’s joking. Was he actually serious? Your question is answered as Jungkook lifts his head and looks at you with a sad expression. It takes you by surprise. Come to think of it—you’ve never seen him upset. At least, not like this. Not sad. Not defeated.

“You’re mad at me… Because of a perilla leaf?”

Your loss for words. Unexplainable. Unbelievable.

He looks at you with despair. “Do you not get it? ___, the next thing to happen after you peel perilla leaves with someone is holding hands with them. Then, you fall in love. Marriage. Babies. What about me? What happens to me, huh? What happens to us? You don't even hold my hand.”

You’re dumbfounded. 

“Jungkook, you can’t be serious…”

“He patted your head. Are you a fucking dog?”

Sharply, you mention, “I patted your head too.”

It doesn’t matter. He looks at you dead in the eyes. “Eunwoo is supposed to be your ex-boyfriend, not your fiancé.”

You almost gag. “He’s not my fiancé—”

“You peeled the perilla—no. You let him feed you. Fuck you for that.”

Frustrated, you curse. “Holy shit, do you hear yourself?” 

He doesn't utter another word. Instead, he stays quiet. Then, when you open your mouth to speak, he beats you to it.

“I hate Eunwoo.”

A beat.

“I hate Mina.”

Just as expected, Jungkook provokes you. 

“What the hell does Mina have to do with this—”

“Everything!” you express rather triggered. "Look, I don't know what you expect from me. I’m not going to go to your fucking practices with a towel in my hand ready to wipe your precious golden sweat. I’m not Mina—”

Jungkook cuts you off only to repeat his question. “What the hell does you not being Mina have to do with all of this? How does that justify the perilla leaf?”

At this point, you feel like you're losing your mind. Childishly, you chant: “Fuck the perilla leaf. The issue is that you're all about her. Mina this, Mina that! You’re so fucking annoying with her—”

Jungkook snaps. “Are you this insecure?”

“Fuck that,” you grumble. “She was wearing your jersey today. How do you think that made me feel?”

He glares at you. “You’re fucking insane if you think I rather see her wear my jersey over you.”

“Why’d she have it on then?” you interrogate. “Are you fucking her too?”

Line: crossed.

There's madness in Jungkook's eyes. His chest burns in slow anger and feels like he's overheating from everything you've said and done thus far. He's tired.. He feels like he's losing.

Fuck it.

One last fight.

One last try.

“Are you fucking serious?” Jungkook slows down his words, trying his best not to raise his voice. It’s so fucking hard. He’s so irritated by your attitude and your fucking delusion. “___, I acted like a total douche to Mina today so she’d leave me alone. I feel horrible already, but I also feel relieved. So, stop it. You don’t have to hate her. You shouldn’t hate her. You don’t need to make these fucking assumptions because that’s just out of line.”

Like fire, your own anger consumes you. “Are you defending her?”

“There’s nothing to defend,” he insists, voice beginning to tremble. “Holy shit, I was such a douche to her already so you can chill.”

You glare at him. “I am chill.”

Lies.

“You gave me a blowjob that one time so I wouldn’t make it to my dinner plans with her,” he comments. “That was a pretty bitch move.”

Out of reflex, your mouth drops a little. You can not believe it. Did he really bring that up? “Excuse me?”

Jungkook blinks at you. “It was a bitch move. I didn’t mind, though. Why? Because it felt like you wanted me. Every time you make me feel that way—I can’t let that shit go.”

“So what? Do you want me to say thank you?” you spit. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t care if you—”

“You never asked for it, I get that,” Jungkook interrupts you. He takes a minute. Suddenly, he recalls his moment with Mina at the field and feels his heart break a little. So... This is what it feels like to be on the receiving end. “What I’m saying is that I stopped entertaining her because I—well, I thought it would ease your heart. You overthink so fucking much, I'm beginning to run out of solutions. Do you even know how much I hate your jokes? The ones about me talking to other girls? I hate them. I only talk to you. I only think of you. Only you.” 

Your heart drops. 

“I never asked for any of that.” 

Something is wrong.

All your words are wrong. Everything you want to say is not coming out of your mouth. What you mean to say to him is; oh my god. You didn’t have to do that for me, but I feel so seen and heard that you did. 

Jealousy has always been a funny thing. Never has it been triggered the way it is when it comes to you and Jungkook. Though some may argue this to be toxic, it is simply the truth about relationships. Jealousy is a healthy emotion as long as it is expressed and validated moderately. It’s so hard to be upset with Jungkook when his confessions are so wholesome. He did a kind thing for you. He did it to bring you peace. Here you are, acting ungrateful because you can’t fathom the way he cares for you.

Jungkook huffs. “___, that’s exactly it. You never need to ask when it comes to me. Whatever you want, I give. I fold. Tenfold. That’s the fucking cycle we’re in and I’m beginning to get sick of it.” 

A silence falls upon you two. All you hear are the raindrops from the sky begin to splat on his window. For a moment, you get so lost in your thoughts, that your head begins to hurt. After a few more moments of silence, you realize it isn't your head.

It's your heart.

It feels like a knife has been stabbed into it—his and yours. All at once, it just aches. You both feel it. Your hearts grow tired and fragile.

Truly, it's ironic how the gentle silence is ruined by such brutal words. It's then when the knife, that was stabbed into both of your hearts, twists.

"What do we do now?"

"I think we need a break."