#but i will say that ''you're annoying as hell sober so you should try doing drugs'' is hilarioussssss to me

[wednesdaythesecond]

Being edge isn't a flex when this is how you are completely sober. Smoke some weed, take a shot or two, it really won't hurt once. Give therapy another try and actually be honest about what you're doing in your spare time. I hope that one day you'll wake up and decide to stop acting like these real people are just toys to play make believe with

no, actually i don't think i will do any of that. being straight edge fucking rules and so does rpf

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Nine on AO3

Contents

Bear!John x reader | explicit

Over the next few days you're an emotional mess. There's a lot to unpack and while John's as far from any of your past partners as possible, the speed at which you've gone from 'never dating again' to 'if he calls me sweetheart one more time I'm gonna tell my mom about him' is alarming to say the least.

By the next morning you're quietly concerned you've gone and fallen in love. It would be enough to set you on edge if John wasn't so fucking sweet. He makes breakfast in his pajama pants again, serves you a 'cuppa' exactly as you'd made it the day before. He asks how you're feeling and if you need anything and kisses your temple, lips lingering on your forehead as if checking for a fever.

"'M'not sick," you remind him and he just grins against your skin, caught.

"I read last night that some people run fevers this time of month."

"Doing some light reading?"

"Mhm. Just wanna take care of you, honey."

"And what have you been doing?"

"Well, there's always room for improvement," he smiles. 

You'd expect that after a second date turned celibate two night stand, the two of you would've run out of things to talk about by now. Instead, John fills you in on his plans for the week (wait staff training and a meeting with a small business community chapter he says he'd rather pull his teeth out than attend), and gossips about how he's pretty sure Simon has a crush on Soap which gets you laughing. 

"Simon doesn't seem like he's ever had a crush on anyone."

"No, he's more of the 'decide he's in a relationship one day and hope the other person notices' type."

"How's that working out for him?"

"Dunno. He's yet to try it."

"And Soap's the man? Simon seemed pretty annoyed with him…"

"Tha's the hell of it. Fully expected to come back to one betta in the bowl, you know? Either the big guy's getting soft in his old age, or Soap's magnetism is universal."

"Well, it's definitely not that, " you laugh, thinking of the cocky Scot. 

"Mm. You gonna come downstairs with me? Let him try his charms on you again?"

You bite your lip. "No, but thank you. Think I'm gonna go for a hike today. Get some fresh air."

John's eyes widen in fake concern. "You see that bear again you tell him you're spoken for now, yeah?"

You can't help the grin that spreads across your face, feeling like a child. It only grows when you see John smiling contentedly back at you. "I don't know. What if he gets mad? Don't wanna piss a bear off."

"Smart rabbit. Suppose I'll just have to share."

"Man, all the local girls are gonna be so mad when they realize I've managed to snag the two biggest studs in town," you wink.

John's answering smile is the toothy one that always leaves you a little breathless, a disturbing mix of nervous and excited. 

Well, disturbing in that you know you shouldn't trust him with this feeling. You remember his jealous comment the other night, the one you'd wanted to reflect on when sober. Today seems like a good time for it, considering how easily he's managed to reduce you to mushy sentiments. 

"Think we're the lucky ones, bunny."

You make your excuses soon after and John sends you off with a rumbly, 'Don't get eaten.' It should probably be taken seriously - there is, after all, a massive, oddly behaving bear that may or may not be stalking you - but something about the way he says it reminds you of the way he'd stuck his face in your crotch like a starved man, kept comparing you to food; you're fuzzy with embarrassment when he opens the Jeep door for you.

"Well. Wanna keep the bear happy, but maybe not that happy, you know?"

"Mm, good rabbit." Earthquake pitch again, felt more than heard as he leans in to kiss you goodbye. When he pulls back, he looks a bit more serious. "Don't suppose I can convince you to come back later and spend the night?"

It's sweet, but you suspect it's extended more out of concern for your safety than a genuine desire to spend another night with you. It combines with your growing need for time to think to get you demuring. "No thanks. Need a break from your snoring."

John huffs, unbothered. "Fair. Well, don't be afraid to call if you need anything. I'll be busy with the staff today but it should die off after nine. Text, yeah?"

"Sure thing, pumpkin." You're trying for sarcastic. Miss entirely. Disconcerting. 

"Up you get, bunny." And then you're being guided up into the Jeep as if you weigh nothing and shit that's gonna leave you lightheaded every time. "We'll make plans later in the week?"

"Sure. Get with Simon about ideas. Maybe we can get together for a double date?"

John laughs, loud and sudden. "Oh, I'd pay good money to see Simon on a date. Bet you he'd go in for a kiss without taking that mask off." You're not sure if it's appropriate to laugh at that, so you don't. John doesn't seem bothered, carrying on. "But alright. You gonna come watch your match with me tomorrow at least? No obligation to spend the night. Promise."

You want to say yes, definitely, but a bigger part of you knows you should get some space and perspective. You've fallen hard and fast, and not only could that be dangerous, it was also straight up unwise after the kind of relationship you just got out of. And you'd accidentally told him you didn't want to be casual. That was… you didn't regret it, per se. Just wish you'd held your tongue a little longer.

"Got a sales meeting," you blurt. Fuck, that's stupid. Why even lie? John's not gonna care if you want to skip a few nights.

"Sales meeting?"

"Yeah… international company. Some of the meeting times can be odd."

"...Okay."

"Okay. But we'll definitely see each other soon, eh?"

"Whenever you're ready, sweetheart," he says softly. Fuck, too softly. He's onto you. Fuckshit.

"I'm lying," you blurt, unable to stand the kicked puppy look on his face another moment.

John's face cycles through surprise and amusement quickly, lands on slightly patronizing. "Really?"

"Yes. Sorry. I don't know. I guess I just thought you'd be mad if I just said no."

"No reason to be mad, bunny," John hedges and you're unsure if it's worse to read his apprehension as hurt or the recurring concern he adopts whenever you're being too obvious. He's too sweet.

"Right. Well, it's not that I don't want to see you again, anyway. I just think some space would be smart. I'm  kinda… getting over a bad breakup, I guess, so I don't want to rush into anything ill-advised, you know? Not that I think this is ill-advised!" you add quickly, clocking something dark growing on the edges of his expression. "Just… want to think some things over, if that makes sense?"

A beat. John's expression is tight, but it reminds you more so of the time those idiots at the rink called you fat than of any time Phil donned the same expression. "Of course, bunny. Can I ask… your breakup… Anything I need to worry about?"

You nearly laugh. "God, no. Well, only if he shows up suddenly, I guess, but not for the reason you're probably assuming."

"What do you mean?"

"Another time," you wave him off. "Just know I'd sooner die than go back to Phil so no worries there."

He definitely doesn't look satisfied, but thankfully doesn't press. "Okay, bunny. Take your time. Let me know when you're available, yeah?"

You sigh, borderline exasperated for no real reason. "Told you to stop being so sweet. I don't know what to do with it."

John smiles, a little sad. "Well, we'll just have to get you used to it, then."

***

Over the next few days you're an emotional mess. There's a lot to unpack and while John's as far from any of your past partners as possible, the speed at which you've gone from 'never dating again' to 'if he calls me sweetheart one more time I'm gonna tell my mom about him' is alarming to say the least.

You're not ashamed to admit that - while you'd already been pretty crazy about him - a non-zero amount of this sudden infatuation is proximity and remember-when-he-dragged-that-hot-tongue-up-your-pussy-even-though-you'd-already-established-he-wasn't-getting-laid-tonight induced. Two weeks ago the thought of even touching yourself had made you cringe, but here John stuck his fucking face in your crotch and you'd simply melted. He could've done it, you're not afraid to admit. You can blame it on the alcohol, the desperation to feel good after everything - whatever you need to tell yourself, but at the end of the day you know he could have done it and you would have liked it and that's really all there is to say on that, isn't it?

Except it's not. Because he hadn't. Because you were drunk and he'd said he wouldn't.

You'd wonder at your luck, rebounding with a decent guy, but you're surprised how much you don't want John to be something casual like that. You hadn't been lying when you'd said as much, though you'd been debating if you'd accidentally stuck your foot in your mouth ever since. It's not that you don't want a relationship with John - far from - it's just that you're not sure how smart it is to rush into anything right now.

You spend a day out by Whitefish, hoping the physical distance will help you gain perspective, but it doesn't. John occupies ninety percent of your thoughts. When you wake up, you miss the heavy warmth of him. Midday, you think about texting to see how Simon and Soap are getting along. It's easy when the sun's out and your general demeanor is less dire. During the day, you focus on how sweet he is; but at night your doubts creep in, and you remember the blatant jealousy and the way the divot between his brows denotes an anger he steadfastly denies. 

Phil used to deny his aggression, too.

You don't honestly believe John has yet been angry with you, but that cloudy look makes you gun shy, and you've honed your instincts to a knife point over the last few years so you're loath to ignore them now. There's no denying you're a different person than you were when you'd met Phil. Before, you would have ignored these issues in favor of the stability he'd brought you; but you're currently content to be as unstably homeless as possible so long as you can keep yourself safe (relatively).

This just leaves the question of John, and whether or not you ought to listen to that tiny voice in your head. If it were just the quick temper that worried you, you could write it off as PTSD induced paranoia, but the growing regularity with which he can reference instances he was not present for is raising some hairs. It makes you feel crazy for even considering it, but you've lived under some level of surveillance before. Phil used to throw things you'd said or done in private in your face just to remind you he could. Prove he had control. John doesn't sound threatening when he does it, but it doesn't sound purely coincidental, either. 

After five days of mulling it over, you're feeling a lot better. Clarity comes piecemeal and sluggish, but it does come:

In the greasy smear of a pan you'd used to make a grilled cheese, you divine that you don't need to know if you're ready for a real relationship. At the end of the day, the two of you have only been on two dates. You may have agreed on wanting to be more than casual, but it's still not like you exchanged vows or anything. You're allowed to stop overthinking and just enjoy John's company. And you feel like an idiot when you're sitting lakeside, just enjoying the sun, and suddenly realize that while you'd technically only left Phil a few weeks ago, you've been downright fucking pupal for years. When you're in the thick of it, it's so easy to drown yourself in the to-do's and the now-what's and the where-can-I-hide-this that it's enough to think of your actions as nothing but that - actions. Can't see the forest for the trees, as it were. But now you recognize that you've basically been a single woman living under extremely unpleasant circumstances for years now. It's an oversimplification, of course, but the situation you're in now doesn't necessarily require further elaboration. You're finishing off your crochet project when you remember people are allowed to just be angry sometimes and that doesn't make them dangerous. John is no threat. For better or worse, staying with Phil long after you'd gotten wise to his ways had at the very least made you confident you could spot a viper at ten clicks. You'd been quite close and personal with John and he'd never once raised your hackles in any way that wasn't reasonable, or at least couldn't easily be explained away. 

Of course, once you've come to these conclusions, you allow yourself to start missing him. He's been so sweet through all of this, but the fact that he's been good about giving you space these last few days has stood out in your mind as one of the top reasons you're sure you've just been a bit obstinate re: allowing yourself to be happy. You've kept your distance for nearly a week and although you could read it plain as day on his face how much it upset him when you'd said you'd wanted time, John's been content to just wish you a good morning and ask how your day went at night. He never pries to see how you're feeling, or what you're thinking, or where you are, or even what you're up to. Basically just wants confirmation you're still alive and then he leaves you alone, just as you'd wanted.

Except, as the days go by, you begin to realize that isn't what you want. Not the obvious concern - that's sweet, actually, especially when your friend the bear is becoming an almost nightly visitor - but the self-inflicted loneliness. You're not sure you wanted John to chase you, exactly (you're not in middle school after all), and you're thankful he took your concerns seriously, but something about it has made you feel… bereft.

"Think it's the hormones," you inform the bear one night. He seems to agree, if the way he sniffs and drools all over the seal of your window is any indication. You're over your period by now, but your impending horny week might be responsible for your unreasonable expectations. "What do you think? I should bite the bullet, eh? Man's not a mind reader, after all." 

It lowers, somehow both excited and miserable. If you didn't know him any better, the thick saliva it's currently trying to wash your Jeep with would be disconcerting, but you're fairly confident he's just excited about the honey he smells in your front seat. Probably. If it was rabid it would be dead by now, surely?

"Guess I'm just not used to getting what I want," you grumble, perhaps a little self-pitying. If he finds you pathetic, the bear doesn't let on. He takes a moment to look you directly in the eye and moo, licking the window for good measure.

In the morning, John asks if you'd be interested in joining him on a trip to the local flower shop.

Next>>

[jananakookie]

Rumor Has It | pjm - Chapter 6

💬 Pairing: Jimin x OC (Reader)

💬 Genre/Tags: enemies(?) to lovers, fake-dating au; angst, fluff, smut

💬 Chapter warnings: sex-talk but nothing too spicy, foul language, mentions of divorce, mentions of incompetent father figure (not important for the story or heavy in general but just so you know)

💬 Word count: 7.5k

💬 Recap:

Rumor has it, Park Jimin is single again after his latest girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend.

Rumor has it, he's willing to get back at them.

Rumor has it, you're the perfect means to an end.

A/N please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed 💚

Previous Chapter - Index - Next Chapter

Chapter 6: Not that different.

It's been several weeks since you met Jimin's parents, and neither you nor he talked about what happened at the bonfire after the two of you were left alone. You prefer it that way, and you don't see any benefit to it anyway, since it will never happen again - that much is clear. 

It was a drunken mistake from both of your ends. A mishap resulting from the fact that both of you were under pressure all day and let loose in the evening. A bit too loose, yes - and yet, it doesn't have to mean anything. 

Talking about it would only give it more meaning than it has. Nothing has changed. You still have a goal to achieve and you haven’t changed your opinion on Jimin either. He’s still the annoying prick that gives you a headache on a daily and nothing will change that.

Yes, casual sex wouldn’t necessarily mean that would have to change - you’re perfectly aware of that yourself. Many people have a non-strings-attached relationship with a person they don’t necessarily like outside the bedroom, and there is nothing wrong with that, of course. However, you cannot help but think about the talk you had with Jungkook a while ago. The one where he specifically told you to be aware and not get in too deep, and you feel like sleeping with Jimin would definitely count as getting in too deep - no pun intended. 

And why the hell does it feel like you're trying to convince yourself? All of this should go without question. You seriously feel like the biggest idiot for even considering this could ever be a possibility. Ew. 

Sure, it’s been such a long time since you had the company of other people, especially guys, but that's no excuse to have these thoughts about Jimin.

He’s handsome, and he kisses well. You’re too damn sexually frustrated to resist this temptation when you’re not master of your senses which means, you will have to stay sober from now on. 

No more alcohol in the presence of Park Jimin. That sounds doable. You can surely manage. You just hope it is also in his interest not to complicate your agreement and keep it as non-physical as possible.

“You’re unusually quiet today, is something wrong?” 

Your silent stare into space is interrupted by Jimin's voice, and you have to blink a few times until your eyes manage to focus on him. 

“Do you sometimes miss having sex?” you blurt out, immediately taking him off guard with it. It surprises you as well, but you blame it on the fact that he interrupted your intense flow of thoughts so abruptly.

You watch as his eyes widen for just a split second before they’re back to normal, weirdly mustering you while a grin slowly forms on his lips. 

“If there is one thing I'll never get used to, it's your loose mouth and your ability to say the most random shit at the most unfitting times,” he chuckles scratching the nape of his neck. If you didn't know any better, you'd almost say your question made him shy. “Uhm, may I know why you are suddenly asking me this?”

Pretty unbothered, you shrug your shoulders while picking a grape out of his fruit salad, gradually ignoring the glare he sends you right after since you now know he doesn’t actually mind you stealing them. 

“I’m just wondering. Hookups aren’t an option for you these days without revealing our secret, so… I figured you must be sexually frustrated at times, no?”

He devolves into a burst of throaty laughter, pushing the bowl with the fruit salad a little closer to you so you don't have to reach so far while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “I’m aright. I am not a caveman, nor am I a teenager, so I do have some self-control, you know?” He explains, leaning his face a bit closer before whispering, “and I still have a well-functioning hand.”

You automatically lean back into your seat with your face showing nothing but pure revulsion. “Disgusting, Park.”

“Hey, you were the one interested in my sex life,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in feigned surrender. 

“I just wanted to know if you sometimes feel frustrated. Not how you take care of it,” you declare, rolling your eyes while you try to hide a grin of your own.

“Same difference,” he shrugs, offering you a wink. “But going back to my original question - Why?” Resting his arms on his elbows, he rests his head on his clenched fist and smiles at you as if waiting for a bedtime story. 

The reason why you have avoided this question until now should be obvious, but you should have expected it. And it's not uncomfortable for you either - quite the opposite actually, since you’re only human, and stuff like that is nothing out of the ordinary. You just don't know exactly how to explain your curiosity to Jimin without giving him the wrong idea.

Munching on a couple more grapes, you muster him while pursing your lips. “I just had a guess,” you shrug, seeing Jimin furrow his eyebrows at you immediately as if offended, and you laugh. “I know what sexual frustration looks like, Park. I built this city. And I’ve been living here for a while now.” 

A deep laugh escapes Jimin’s lips while he shakes his head, but he halts for a quick moment as if to think about his next words before he clears his throat, making it clear that he’s gonna say it anyway.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” he asks in a serious tone, looking like he’s not only surprising you, but him as well with his bold words. 

You take a moment before you nod your head in an unsure manner. “Depends. Am I going to regret it?” 

“No, I’m being genuine, I promise,” he says, sending a small but honest smile your way as you nod again, silently telling him to continue. 

“You’re not afraid or embarrassed to be honest with me. That’s pretty cool,” he admits, becoming sheepish right after while he clears his throat. 

To be completely honest, you didn’t expect that but smile, shrugging your shoulders a little to shake the awkwardness off. “I mean, yea. I don’t know why it never feels awkward with you,” you agree, chuckling quietly. 

“Must be because I’m so amazing,” he winks, biting his lip. A couple weeks ago you would have gagged at this scene, but you know he doesn't really mean it.

“Or maybe I just don’t care what you think of me,” you return the wink, and grin brightly, feeling that you got the upper hand again.

He scoffs, shaking his head with a grin of his own. “So predictable.”

“Mhm… and does that tell you more about you or me?” You fire back, biting your lip to suppress your own smile. 

Jimin smiles at you for a while and you do the same. And it's just about to get awkward again when he shakes his head as if to try and remember what this conversation was actually about before you drifted off to… whatever this was. 

“So what exactly is the point of this conversation, ___? Would you like to offer me something?” He gradually bites his lip while grinning and wiggles his eyebrows, thinking exactly about what you did not want him to think, but it’s not a surprise. He's still Jimin.

“Not at all. As I said, I was just wondering,” you say, breaking eye contact with him and shaking your head slightly.

“Are you sure? I like to help where I can,” he smirks, seeing you scoff at his lame attempt at flirting.

“I’m not that desperate yet,” you chuckle, shaking your head immediately. 

“Funny you say that now because I have a feeling that’s not always true,” he mutters, while he lowers his gaze and concentrates on eating again. It seems like you shouldn't have heard that, and you almost wouldn't have if you weren't still waiting for an answer anyway. 

Whether there is a hidden meaning behind his words or not, you don’t find out because he soon after changes the topic when he starts asking you about an assignment he didn’t understand. 

Jimin left just a few minutes ago because he had to go to the bathroom but your concentration, which you actually wanted to direct to your paper, is already interrupted when you suddenly feel the presence of a person next to you.

“Back so soon? Don’t tell me you missed me already,” you grin as you finish the sentence you were already typing out. 

Your words get stuck in your throat, however, as you look up, and it's not Jimin who is looking down at you. Instead, it's Yeji, as in Jimin’s ex-girlfriend, who never even acknowledged your existence before this whole fiasco. 

But now she’s here, and she obviously wants something from you, considering there isn’t really anyone else close enough to be her person of interest right now. 

“Uhm, can I help you?” you look at her, unsure of what’s about to come. Seeing how you never exchanged a word with Lee Yeji before you have no idea what she could want from you. Well, you actually do have an idea because if there is anything connecting the two of you it has to be Jimin, no?

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to cause any trouble,” she quickly says probably sensing you’re in defense mode just from seeing her about to talk to you. “I just have one question for you.”

Furrowing your brows, you make a motion for her to continue, not expecting much in the first place but still interested enough to not just walk off. You don't offer her a seat, though. We do not wanna rush into anything now, do we?

“I know the opinions of the people here are very different, but I just can’t form one for myself. Are you really dating Jimin?”

You raise your brows, closing your laptop while you try to understand what's going on. She did not actually take it upon herself to come to you and ask you that question after everything that happened, did she?

 “You know what’s funny?” you ask her, looking her straight in the eyes. “You guys have no problem spreading and believing the most absurd lies about me. But the moment I actually am involved with someone, you refuse to believe it? Make it make sense, please,” you scoff, already grabbing your laptop and standing up from your seating position. 

“It wasn’t me who said you were the one in the picture,” she says, eyes firmly kept on yours. “Taehyung said that, not me.” She rushes the words as if to try and keep you longer. For what reason? You have no idea. Probably to get some well-needed information.

“Oh? So what did you do to try and tell everyone the truth?” You ask, raising a brow even though you already know the answer. 

It's almost comical how quickly she throws her lover under the bus just to appease you and get some information. But what can you expect from people like them?

Yeji doesn’t say anything to that, and for the first time, her gaze leaves yours, even if it’s just for a split second until her eyes are back on yours. 

“Well, if it really is true, then just look out for yourself. I’m not saying he has an ulterior motive, but… he moved on pretty fast.” She has the guts to almost look offended when she says that. As if him moving on is what went wrong between them. 

“Thank you for trying to look out for me, but I’ll be fine,” you sarcastically say although you feel as if it didn’t quite reach her as such. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not trying to be a bitch, ___. I’m here because I felt sorry about what happened and wanted to make sure there’s no bad blood between us. I’m not a bad person. I’m really not. I’m sure there are lots of people who wouldn’t agree with me and you’re probably one of them, but just know that I do feel bad about what went down. I would have liked things to happen differently, but… honestly, I can’t change the past. I just hope we can move on from this someday.” 

You glance up at Yeji with your mouth agape, trying to suppress a genuine laugh. That must have been the most half-hearted apology you've ever received, and the bored look on her face almost does the rest.

Fortunately for her, you learned a long time ago to see the humor in almost everything, so you don't even hold it against her. Rolling your lips inwardly, you nod your head, making her sigh out in what you interpret as relief. 

It's not like you're going to forgive her for what she did, nor will you forget about it. But you don’t see the sense in starting an argument either, and if you’re honest, all you want is for this awkward encounter to end as soon as possible. 

To your luck, Yeji leaves soon after, obviously not very keen on talking to you either. And to your amusement, she’s quickly replaced by Jimin, who suddenly pops up next to you, panting heavily as he looks in the direction Yeji just left in. 

“Wow, did you run here?”

“What did she want?” He asks, deciding to ignore your question while still glaring at the table where his ex-girlfriend went to. 

“Who, Yeji? I’m not too sure. It was an experience I could have gladly missed out on,” you shrug, not really wanting to go into detail since you have no idea what that was either. “But you can relax, she was asking about us, so maybe your plan is finally bearing fruit, and she’s starting to get jealous.” 

Jimin groans quietly, rolling his eyes before looking at you. “How many more times, ___. I’m not trying to win her back.” 

You’re just about to argue, when your phone starts beeping, signaling you got a new message. Briefly distracted from the actual topic, you take a look at who messaged you and curse under your breath as you hurriedly pack your things together. 

Jimin, who was originally just waiting for you to give him attention again, quickly starts to help you put your things in your bag, sensing that whoever just texted you must be more important to you now. 

“What’s up?”

“Ugh, it’s my mom. I completely forgot she was coming over today,” you hurriedly answer with a deep scowl while not even looking at him as you walk away with fast steps, knowing he’ll follow you anyway. 

“Are you not happy to see her?” 

“I am. It’s just that every time she comes over, she’s asking to meet ‘my friends’ and it usually ends with me making up some big ass lie that makes me feel awful as soon as she’s on her way back home.”

“So she doesn’t know about… you know?”

“My situation?” you ask, briefly looking at him before you turn your gaze forward again in fear you might run into something or someone. “Of course not. And I’m not planning on ever letting her know. She has enough on her plate. I don’t need her to worry about me. I’m an adult, after all. I’ll be alright.”

Jimin only nods, completely understanding your decision not to confide in her, even if it makes him uneasy to know that you probably never had anyone to confide in and talk to about your problems. He remembers too well how uncomfortable it was to tell his family about Yeji and Taehyung, especially when he saw how much it upset them out of concern for him, but it still helped him a lot to talk about it. Knowing that you didn't and couldn't do that for years really makes his insides churn for some reason. 

You should not have to go through something like this. Especially not alone.

“So, what are your plans for today then?” He would like to disagree and tell you that your mother would understand, but Jimin knows you well enough to know when to keep his mouth shut. Not to forget that it is none of his business anyway.

“I’ll just take her to the café near my apartment. We usually go there when she comes to visit me,” you explain, finally letting a small smile appear on your lips. “And then, I’ll just hope she doesn’t try to dig too deep today and accepts my lame excuse about my friends being busy one more time.”

An idea of how he can help you suddenly comes to Jimin's mind, but he decides to not let you in on it for now. Instead, he only accompanies you to your apartment door as usual and immediately disappears on your demand. 

And while you try to fix up your apartment as best you can until your mother finally arrives, Jimin is on his way to save your day.

You must look like an idiot. 

You really must look like an idiot right now with your mouth hanging wide open, your mother happily chattering about whatever the hell you were talking about before you caught sight of a familiar blond mop of hair, neatly gelled back.

Not that you did it on purpose, but the moment you thought you saw Jimin outside the window of the café where you're currently sitting with your mother, you completely blanked her out.

But despite the rain, there are so many people out and about today that the blond mop, which seemed to be familiar, has disappeared somewhere in the mass of people and can no longer be located by you.

With a frown, you shake your head in an attempt to direct your thoughts back to what is actually important. Jimin would tease you for weeks if he knew he had taken over your thoughts enough that you would confuse him with some rando on the streets. Without a doubt, making it sound like you cannot stop thinking about him or some shit like that.

As if. 

“—Lately we have hardly been in touch. I've almost forgotten what you look like, honey.” The condemning, yet partly joking tone in your mother's voice draws your attention back to her for a brief moment as you sigh. 

“I told you, mom. There’s just a lot going on these days. I hardly find the time to do anything.” 

“It’s fine,” she says, sending you a warm smile. “I just worry about you. Please don’t overwork yourself too much. You are too old now for me to remind you to eat regularly and healthily.”

Apathetic, you poke around in your cheesecake while you hum a response. “Been doing stuff with friends for the most part. We’re going out to eat a lot, don’t worry.” 

Technically that’s not a lie. Since you've been spending time with Jimin, you have been eating healthier and more balanced meals than ever before. And you would say that's probably one of the reasons you've kept up this charade for so long. 

The instant noodle days are not yet missed by you. 

And even if you don't like to admit it, lunch with Jimin and Hyunjin often involves a lot of laughter and fun. Sometimes there are a few other friends of Jimin's, often it's just the three of you, and lately, Jimin and you have managed to persuade even Nayeon to join your little group. 

In those moments it sometimes even feels like you really belong, and it almost makes you dread the doom day when your fake relationship with Jimin is over, and you're going to be back to being alone. 

Being alone never was that big of a deal for you. Yeah, it did get lonely at times, but with time you got used to it. Getting used to the company of others again, however, went a lot faster. It certainly won't be easy to master the art of being on your own again after all this time.

She literally beams all over her face at your words and it makes the guilt almost unbearable. “I’m glad to hear that! It’s such a shame your friends couldn’t make it.”

You swallow thickly, lowering your gaze back onto your half-eaten cheesecake. Your appetite is completely gone now. Literally, all this woman wants is for you to be happy and live a normal life, and you can’t even do that? A woman in her twenties, making up friends to tell her mother about. How fucking pathetic. 

“Nevertheless, I would be very happy if you would call or send a message at least once in a while. Let's say once a week, so I know that you are still alive,” your mom grins, making a smile crack on your lips as well. 

“Mom, please. It’s not like I never—”

“I’m afraid that might be my fault.” A voice suddenly cuts through yours, making your words stuck in your throat. Turning your head, you see Jimin standing in front of your table, kindly smiling down at your mother. “I just take up all of her time these days,” he chuckles, smiling brightly as his gaze drifts from your mother to you. “I tried to come as soon as possible. I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it sooner.”

You feel yourself shrink in your seat as you sense your mother’s eyes burn through your skull, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of him. You’re too stunned to say or do anything at the moment. What is he doing?!

He cleans up nicely, looking as smug and expensive as always, even if he undoubtedly walked through the rain to get here. In his left hand, he’s holding a big, bright-colored bouquet while his right hand is already shaking your mother’s. 

You see how their mouths move, and they talk to each other. Your mother laughs, Jimin grins, he hands her the flowers, she gestures with her arm while saying something to him, and the next moment you see him sit down next to you. You see all of this happening but don't really hear a word they're saying. 

You are much too busy to realize that this is really happening. Jimin is really here. 

His gaze travels over you in a way that makes you gulp and causes you to shiver involuntarily so you take a deep breath, finally getting out of your trance as you sense they’re both waiting for you to say something. 

No doubt you immediately recognize this excited glimmer in your mom's eyes and watch as she expectingly raises her eyebrows, wordlessly telling you to introduce him too. 

You clear your throat and slide a few centimeters further to the window to try and put some distance between you and Jimin because as usual he doesn't understand the concept of personal space.

Honestly, he might as well have sat on your lap…

“Uhm Mom, this is Jimin. My friend—”

“Boyfriend.” 

In a fraction of a second, you turn your head to him, not believing what he just said. He doesn’t react, doesn’t even look at you. Instead, he puts his arm around your shoulders and pushes you closer against him while rubbing your arm.

You clench your fists under the table, hoping that your mother doesn’t notice, and suck your bottom lip into your mouth before you turn your gaze to at her again to see her reaction.

It is no surprise that she almost bursts with joy from the unexpected news seeing how she inconspicuously has been trying to find out something about your love life for ages — without any success, of course. So it was probably to be expected that she would react like this.

“A boyfriend, ___? Why didn't I know about this?” 

She doesn’t sound disappointed in the slightest. If anything, she uses more of a teasing tone with you, making it even more awkward. 

“This has not been going on for long, mom. I just didn't get to tell you about it yet,” you lie, once again poking around in your cheesecake. “It’s not like it’s that important.”

Your mom gasps, frowning at you with a displeased, judgmental look in her eyes, and you know if you were alone with her right now, you would meet the slipper. “You little— How can you say that. Of course your boyfriend is important!”

You can hear Jimin snicker beside you, and you would love to shut him up, but you don't want to make it even worse with your mother.

The two of them happily engage in a conversation, completely ignoring your presence while your mother asks him question after question, wanting to know everything about him and seemingly being more than smitten with him already.

It’s understandable, really. You can’t blame her. Jimin really is charismatic. He answers every question with ease, not once stuttering or stumbling over his words like you found yourself doing while conversing with his family. 

He is friendly, polite, extremely handsome, and well-spoken, and it worries you how comfortable and familiar your mother already seems with him. The little shit even brought her flowers! 

This is exactly what you feared and what was the reason that you didn’t want her to find out about this. You know your mother and you know that she will not let this go which only means you have to lie to her again and again.

As if your conscience was not already burdened enough.

The moment your mother excuses herself and leaves to use the restroom, you finally crumble, ready to yell at him but before you can muster a word, he beats you to it.  

“This is going pretty well, don’t you think?” With a bright, content grin on his face, he leans back in his seat. 

The moment he lifts his arm and wraps it around your shoulders again, you snap. Grabbing his arm, you immediately push him off with force before you bark at him. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Jimin is visibly surprised by your sudden outburst, and he takes a couple of moments before he clears his throat and runs his fingers through his hair, a slight frown now visible between his eyes. 

“I’m… having a nice little chat with your mother,” he states in a calm voice, obviously not seeing anything wrong with what he’s doing. “She’s nice. I think she likes me too,” he adds, raising his brows in question when your only response is a loud, annoyed groan before you lean your elbows on the table and slap your hands over your face.

“No no no no no…” you silently chant to yourself, your voice coming out muffled. “This is bad. This is so bad.”

“What is?“ Jimin asks, sounding unbothered as if to silently tell you that you're overreacting. 

You face him again, and for a split moment, you seriously consider smacking the back of his head. “My mom likes you, Jimin! She really likes you,” you sigh. 

“So?” He scoffs. “Of course she does. I’m amazing. I thought you’d be happy about that. I mean… isn’t that what normal people want? For their parents to like their boyfriend?”

“But that’s the thing, Jimin!” you groan, gaping at him with your eyes opened wide. “You are not my boyfriend. And when we ‘break up‘, she’ll be sad about that now,” you explain, annoyed that you even have to do that. “Even worse, she'll want me to pour my heart out to her or something!”

Jimin stays silent, pressing his lips together while he draws his eyebrows together in a slight frown. “Why do you always have to do that?”

“Do what?” 

“Worry about things, that haven’t even happened yet. You always do that. Why can’t you just enjoy things as they are from time to time?”

“What do you even mean? There isn’t anything to enjoy. This is an act, you remember? And it will end soon, and then—”

“See? You’re doing it again. You’re so uptight. Just let loose for once and live a little.”

“Excuse me?” you scoff, feeling offended.

“What? It’s true. I can offer you a jacket when you forgot yours and you’d be like ‘don’t do that Jimin, we aren’t actually dating’, or I could pay for food when we’re alone and you’d say ‘stop it Jimin, you’re not actually my boyfriend’, and now I can’t even be liked by your mom without you complaining about her being sad when we eventually break up. It’s annoying. Your mantra is making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Well, what else do you want me to say? I’m just trying to do the job and stay focused. Stay rational. As we both agreed from the start. I didn’t want my mom to find out about us. That was not part of the deal. Not to forget that it was not necessary for her to ever find out about this in the first place!” Even though you are already boiling with rage, you try to be as discreet as possible and not raise your voice. But it’s hard. It’s so hard right now. 

“I even told you that I did not want my mother to know about it. Several times,” you hiss, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“I know,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But I just wanted to help. You were complaining about her asking about your friends and stuff earlier, and I thought—”

“You thought just showing up here and pretending to be my boyfriend would magically make it better?” You scoff. “All you have achieved is that you have only made things worse. For you it seems to be the easiest thing in the world to lie to your family, you don't even bat an eye when you do it, but I'm not like that. This fucking sucks, Jimin.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest and stubbornly look out the window without exchanging another word with him. 

It may be childish behavior, but you don't feel like talking to him anymore. Fortunately, he seems to feel the same way, because he also doesn't say a word to you. And so it comes that you both keep silent until your mother comes back from the restroom and directly joyfully continues her previous conversation with Jimin in which he immediately engages without letting on anything.  

And even if your mother doesn’t seem to notice anything, you sure do. Because it is obvious that your words have not left him untouched. 

Hours passed, your Mom has left, and you’re seriously happy you somehow survived the day without any major problems occurring. She bought your little lie and was more than happy to spend the day with not just you, but Jimin as well and it’s eating at you.

It makes you shoot daggers from your eyes into the bathroom door behind which Jimin is just now, a shallow beam of light shooting out from under the door, the only recognizable sign that there is anyone else in the apartment besides you.

To be honest, you’re quite surprised he’s still here. Your mother left fairly late, seeing how she was too engrossed in getting to know your boyfriend and swooning over him. You internally cringe just thinking about it. 

It’s going to be so embarrassing having to explain to her why she won’t ever meet him again. Even if you were able to push it to the back of your mind for the past couple of hours for your Mom's sake, you’re still mad at Jimin for pulling that stunt out of the blue earlier. 

This boy just never stops complicating things for you, and you don’t get why he does the things that he does. 

“So, it’s just you and your mom?” Jimin asks, which is the first thing he does as soon as he comes out of the bathroom and joins you in the kitchen.

You nod, not turning your attention from washing the dishes. Jimin wordlessly grabs a towel to dry up and help you finish sooner. 

“My parents divorced when I was still very young. Haven’t really seen my Dad ever since, but we were never that close anyway, so it’s whatever. I always had a much stronger bond with my mother.”

Jimin hums, thinking for a moment before he speaks again. “Do you miss him sometimes?”

You shrug, taking a brief moment to answer, and Jimin studies the way your brows draw together while you seem deep in thought. He’s afraid he asked too much, scared of being too nosey, but to his relief, you shake your head soon after with your lips forming a small pout. 

“Can’t say that I do,” you say, once again looking at him for just a blink of an eye before turning back to work. “As I said, we were never that close. I barely have any memories of him doing... well, anything with me really. It was always my mom who did the most work which is also why they ended up getting a divorce. He was never much of a father figure anyway.”

“Sounds like you aren’t upset about it,” he wonders, a little surprised by your nonchalant tone. 

You laugh shortly, but to Jimin, it seems genuine, which confuses him even more. Shouldn’t you be hurt or angry? Last time he checked, most people didn’t like their fathers leaving them without a trace. 

“What do you want me to do? Cry about it? Should I curse and insult him?” You joke.

“No, but… don’t you care?”

“I was nine when they split, Jimin,” you explain in a calm, very collected voice with a face showing no trace of any foul emotion. “I had plenty of time to be angry about it when I was younger, but now? I think I can understand him. He wasn’t happy with his life, so he left. Stuff like that happens all the time, and there’s nothing we can do about it. My mom and I managed just fine on our own. Trust me, It’s easier to live your life without someone who doesn’t really want to be in it in the first place. I barely ever saw him after he left, but he made sure to support us financially and he still sends me a card every year on my birthday. Was he a good dad? Hell no, but he did what he could, I guess. Not everyone’s cut out to be a parent.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything after that for a long time. It makes you wonder if you said something wrong.

You didn’t. Jimin just doesn’t really know what to say. You clearly have made your peace with the situation so there isn’t really anything for him to say against it. 

“I guess it probably drew you and your mom even closer,” he suddenly speaks up again. “It’s obvious you guys share a tight bond.”

“We do, and I’m very happy it’s like that,” you smile, not really looking at him as you put away the cups and plates, Jimin has already dried. 

“I’m sorry I made you lie to her,” his voice suddenly appears behind you, sounding a lot smaller and quieter than it usually does. 

You turn around to face him, mustering the look on his face. “Yea, I’m not gonna lie, that really bugs me. Although I’ve kinda been lying to her for the past couple of years now when it comes to me and any social contacts so… I guess it’s not that big of a deal.”

Jimin knows you’re not happy with him right now. Not that you ever are, but this time he really feels bad about it, knowing how uncomfortable you must have felt the whole day. He knows how bad it feels to lie to your family about this kind of thing, but at least he made the decision himself. You didn’t have that luxury, and it’s his fault. It’s not that he meant for you to feel this way, he just didn’t think things through - again. 

“That wasn’t my intention. I honestly just wanted to help but ended up making it worse for you. I’m sorry. Didn’t really think about the consequences,” he apologizes, looking a little embarrassed.

You loudly exhale through your nose, jokingly rolling your eyes at him. “How about you stop trying to help or do things for me?” You suggest, grinning at him slightly. “’Cause honestly, you’re pretty shit at it.”

Jimin purses his lips while slightly nodding his head in agreement. “I might consider it. Can’t really disagree with you here.”

You snort out a laugh and smack him with the towel which makes him laugh as well while he tries to avoid getting hit a second time - without much success. 

“Why did you lie to me that time at my parents’?” Jimin asks, making your head shoot up as soon as he finishes, making it clear you immediately know what he’s talking about even without him having to go into detail. 

You gulp, lowering your head again because looking at him would add another layer of awkwardness right now, and you don’t need that. 

“Yes, I noticed. No, it was not hard to tell you were lying. Not at all,” he adds after a while of you not giving him an answer. 

“It’s not like it would have changed anything,” you scoff. “I was just drunk. Saying and doing things I didn’t mean. And so were you. It didn’t mean anything, so why talk about it?”

Jimin doesn’t instantly say anything to that but he’s watching you intently before shaking his head as he sends an arrogant smirk your way. “You sure about that? Because it didn’t really seem that way when you were—”

“Alright, we get it!“ You interrupt him, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. Turning your back on him, you ignore his mocking laughter. 

“No, but seriously, why are you always so keen on not crossing any boundaries? I understand that our situation is a bit… unusual, and it’s not like I’m asking you to have sex with me, but we can be friends. There is nothing to say against getting along well with each other.” 

Jimin halts for a moment to see if you’re going to contradict, but when he sees no reaction whatsoever on your face, he continues with a sigh. 

“I like teasing you because it’s fun, and you look like a puffer fish when you’re about to snap at me which is a bit cute— however, that doesn’t mean that I don’t like you or that you constantly have to be on edge with me. I’m really trying here. Why can’t I be friendly without you immediately going for my neck?”

Having your arms crossed over your chest, you roll your eyes when he finishes his little speech. “Want to send a little prayer, or are you done?” 

Jimin scoffs at your incapability of being serious, but you think you can see him trying to hide a little smile as he leans against your kitchen counter and sends a defeated look your way. 

“You’re a bit much sometimes, Jimin.” You tell him, being as honest as you can. “Ever since we got into this fake relationship thing, you've been around me constantly. And that can be pretty overwhelming at times.”

“Why? Are you scared you could catch feelings for me?” He smirks, wiggling his brows, obviously back in joking mode, whereas you gulp and shrug your shoulders as your eyes drift from him to the floor.

“Maybe.” It comes out in a small voice, but Jimin still hears you clearly, and it wipes the grin off his face almost instantly.

“Oh.”

“It’s not what you think, Park,” you quickly add, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “Please don’t get ahead of yourself,” you then scoff, rolling your eyes when his expression tells you he already did have the wrong idea. “At this point, even if I tried to deny it, I just have to accept that I obviously am very desperate, okay?” 

Jimin is frowning now, eyebrows knitted together as he inspects your face.

“Yesterday while shopping, a stranger held the door open for me, and I got flustered and giggled while thanking him. I giggled, Park! I got flustered because a stranger did not slam the door in my face! What is happening to me?”

Jimin doesn’t answer as he bursts into laughter, very visibly amused by your distress, whereas you start to pout, seeing how he doesn’t take you seriously at all. 

“I’m not joking,” you mutter, feeling your ears getting hot. Granted, it does sound pathetic and a little dramatic, you can admit that. But it doesn't change the fact that it is a true story after all. 

“In any case, it's important to me that we maintain a certain distance. When all this is over, we’ll just go back to being strangers anyway,” you shrug, getting back to work and putting some of the dishes back into the cupboards.

Jimin’s laughter has died down. Your words were pretty harsh and Jimin knows you didn't mean it sarcastically either. Even though your way of being straightforward and always honest with him is something he really admires and likes about you since it’s refreshing, it can be just as hurtful sometimes. 

He knows that you don't do it on purpose because you want to hurt him but because it's your way. It honestly took some getting used to on his part, but he thinks he can manage by now. 

And still, when you say stuff like that and then act as if nothing happened, it pisses him off. 

“You were wrong by the way,” his voice suddenly interrupts the silence you were about to enjoy, and you turn back around to face him again, not quite knowing what he means.

“I don’t enjoy lying to my family. And it’s not easy for me either.”

His voice is calm and collected, and his eyes do not stray from you which allows you to see the disenchantment in them again, just like you did earlier. You’re struck with a pang of guilt when you notice it, feeling bad about never being able to shut your damn mouth, especially in the heat of a moment.

You didn’t mean it like that when you accused him of that. It was just the frustration and anger getting the best of you, and you regretted your words as soon as they left your lips. There is no doubt that he loves and respects his family very much, and you should not have said something like that. Especially since you aren't any better. You have been lying to your mother for years, inventing friends and stories that don't exist only because you’re ashamed to tell her who you actually are.

“I know. I didn’t have the right to say that to you. Not in my position,” you scoff at your own stupidity and shake your head as you feel a headache coming up. 

“Well, you have every right to be mad at me. We did talk about our families before, and you told me more than once that you wouldn’t want her to find out, so yea… that’s completely on me again. I can see how that would make you mad.”

You purse your lips and muster him slightly. “See? This is literal proof that you are in fact, able to have clear thoughts so why don’t you ever decide to think before you act?” You then ask, smirking a little. 

After that, the atmosphere between you starts to be a little lighter again, and it is very much appreciated by both of you. 

Without any more words, he quickly helps you put away the rest of the washed dishes and then announces that he is slowly making his way home.

“Your mom is very nice by the way, and she cares about you a lot,” he says while putting his jacket on while on his way to your door. “She would understand. I’m about 99% sure she wouldn’t judge or blame you.”

You of course know what he’s digging at, but there is one thing you don’t quite understand. 

“Who said anything about her judging me?”

Jimin offers you a kind smile while his hand already goes for the knob on your front door to open it. 

“We’re not that different, you know, babygirl?” 

And with a last obnoxious wink, he walks out, wishing you a good night without actually turning around to look at you again. 

You keep standing there a little dumbfounded for a while, looking after him until he’s gone around a corner and you can’t see him anymore before you frown and scoff, closing your door. 

“We are very much different, Park Jimin.”

tagged: @ggukkieland | @ttaeby | @rkvi | @cuteipat | @pjiminslove | @mawwnsterr | @aamalaaa | @spideyxxboi | @lil-sracha | @katsbqbe | @bex-92br | @natalie-rdr | @canarystwin | @wespers-jaan | @bangtanxcoffee | @bri-mal | @so-kou | @lonleycoffee | @rjsmochii | @kiwiaroha | @chimchimmarie | @scoupshawt | @xmochiloverx | @kristinkristinuk | @thejiminshieffect | @yes-fangirl-things

[gojosusedthong]

♱ Au/Character/Relationship Trope suggestions but they get more specific ♱ :

「 ✰ Red is my personal fav :- 」

Cocky Boxer x mature trainer

Tired sheriff x criminal who loves the chase

flower shop x tattoo shop

Dumb x dumber

Chubby (insecure about it) x finds it sexy

Hates touch x extreme ocd

Farmer x curious city boy

Too sober x too drunk

Reincarnated dude x lover from past life

Hot electrician x stay at home husband

Tall shy x small big daddy energy

Sylvia Plath girl x Albert Camus guy

Art school student x cocky engineering student

Rich modern artist x renaissance dick rider who hates them

Overly explains the history of ancient artifacts x "I know"

Sir you're not allowed to dress in a chicken mascot here x doesn't stop

Makes literature/book references x the only one who understands them

Avoids paying for meals in restaurants in creative ways x doesn't fall for any of their tricks

Breathes x JSVDJEJWMWNSN

Emo artist x bubbly scientist

Baker x single dad with 2 daughters

Arrogant celebrity x fan who pretends to not care about them (they're losing their mind)

Talkative coffee shop barista x grumpy insomniac who only drinks black coffee

Obnoxious x tolerant

Museum lover x hates museum

Poor asf x has money to burn

Electric guitarist x amateur guitarist

Bulky patient plumber x clumsy himbo

People only like them for their looks x blind

stalker x worse stalker who stalks the stalker

Apologist x why are you apologizing?

Angry villain asking 'who did this?' x hero who's severely injured by another villain

Bad first impression x doesn't let them forget about it

Rude asf x apologizes for them

Depressed x depressed but intellectually dramatic about it (reads Kafka)

Flirty x wants nothing to do with them but falls twice as hard at the end

Author who hangs out at graveyards x a really concerned passerby

lost man x letting lost man sleep in his house

Immortal x a really confused Grim Reaper

Prince who can't sleep x musician who can make them sleepy

Receptionist x highly annoying store repeater

Loves pottery x asks them to help with pottery

Underrated singer x is their Top listener

Librarian x guy who can't read but stays in the library anyway

Overworked student x student who always sleep but scores higher

Friendly gardener x cold businessman but has a soft spot for them

Visits abandoned buildings x coward (they're build like a tank)

"Wait...so you're not a girl?" x "I get that a lot"

Elementary school teacher x accountant who dislikes children (says they're annoying)

Demon who always visits earth x angel who has to drag them back to hell

world renown chef x harsh food critic who dislikes everything the chef cooks (the chef is determined to change this)

Hopeless romantic deity x the most stinky lazy bum to ever exist (the deity adores them)

Overly worried about what others think x fuck it we only live once + do it for the plot

'so there's this book I've been reading...' x 'tell me all about it'

Attention seeker x obsessed with fictional characters (attention seeker is jealous of this)

Loud neighbor hosting parties every week x annoyed neighbor crashing their parties in the most weird ways possible

Spoiled emperor who manipulates everyone with his power to intimidate them x too dense to understand threats

Lazy bum like a koala x nags a lot but finds them endearing

I can't shut up x the only one who can make them willingly shut up with just a glare

"At least I'm being brave about it" x "whatever you say"

Fakes headaches and always sleeps in the school infirmary x class monitor who won't let this slide

Fakes being perfect (really insecure) x knows the secret that they try to hide (they make a deal)

Popular as the Mr. Nice guy (actually two-faced and gets mad easily) x discovers their secret side and confronts them about it (Mr. Nice guy begs them to keep it a secret)

Beyond beautiful model x nerdy photographer

Scary on the outside (actually really soft) x nice on the outside (the one you should actually be scared about)

Soft spoken yoga instructor x easily flustered gym bro

Desperate Journalist x celebrity who loves pranks and disguises

Doctor in a small town x the same patient who keeps getting into trouble

"This particular detail symbolizes the emptiness residing within the frail human mind and the bleak nature of their demise. What do you think?" x "That's a triangle"

Small Streamer x CEO who watches their live streams and donates a lot

Ex-professional wrestler x idiot who challenges anyone to a fist fight at waffle house

Always arguing for some reason x tries to be nice but snaps and argues twice as much (they make out to make up)

Loves sweets x hates them but has a collection of sweets in case they want it

Childhood friend who remembers everything x pretends to not know them but has a deep crush

Dimension traveller who tries to change their lovers fate x their lover that is destined to die during Christmas Eve in every alternate universe

Rock collector x son of a billionaire who would shamelessly pick up rocks from random places to give it to them and gets articles written about his weird behavior

Coworker with no vehicle x coworker with a cool bike and is willing to give them a ride

Goes to the cinema every night, every day to watch horror movies x watches the same movie as they do every night and thinks they're a stalker (the other thinks they're a stalker too but they get along and discuss the movies they watch)

Do what you will with these ideas

🂱 If you write a fic inspired by them pls tell me the title on Ao3 or Wattpad so I could read it 🂱

[geddy-leesbian]

draft of the chapter where Luis wins his first award because it's cute and I'm impatient

Best Rock Vocal Male Performance – 1981

“When I started this album, I was so close to just giving up on music entirely. I'm only standing here because of one person.”

Leon is now the boyfriend of a Grammy winner. What the fuck.

Two sentences into Luis's award speech, and Leon is running off to the bathroom because he knows he will cry his makeup off if he listens to Leon gush and praise him up there.

Leon comes out of the bathroom to see a panicking Luis, who immediately rushes to him.

“You're okay? You need to go home now?”

“No, no. Just the shit you were saying. I knew I wouldn't have been able to listen without crying.”

“Well, can I show you off at the after party without you crying? I know lots of people want to see my muse after the speech… But your needs are much more important. If you need to go home, that's okay.”

“Think I can handle that.”

“Just remember you can always change your mind. You feel like you're going to start crying, or feel too tired, or for any other reason you want to leave, squeeze my hand and I'll say I need to go early because you're not feeling well. I'll make some unfunny joke about takeout and food poisoning, everyone will laugh anyway because I'm famous, and then we'll leave.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Leon doesn't talk much, just hangs on Luis's arm. He can do social functions like this with the assistance of alcohol. If he wasn't sober he'd be talking more, jumping in while Luis talks about their relationship to crack jokes and tease him a bit. But without the social lubricant, he just smiles and looks pretty while Luis does all the talking. Smiling and looking pretty is his job here. Luis has a literal trophy, a pretty gold-plated gramophone, in his hand, but Leon is the real trophy he wants to show off.

Leon doesn't mind not talking. He doesn't feel awkward or out of place at all. He doesn't mind that his feet are starting to kill him. Of course Luis is the focus, but occasionally Leon catches some eyes too. Particularly the eyes of the musicians who had asked Leon out in the past. Every time Luis notices, he untangles their arms so he can wrap his arm around Leon's waist, then kisses the top of his head for good measure. Just to make it even more abundantly clear that Leon is his.

The possessiveness should piss him off. He should hate that he's being shown off like a prized possession. He had an ex boyfriend who was the jealous type and loved doing shit like this, and it always annoyed the hell out of him. But it's different with Luis. He likes it. All of it.

Luis is also more in tune with Leon's needs than he was during their last outing. He makes a conscious effort to slow down his pace enough that Leon can keep up without having to catch his breath. Occasionally he starts walking a little too fast like before, but now he always catches himself and slows back down even before Leon can say anything.

Luis smoothly deals with the peer pressure to drink too. There's so much alcohol, so there's constantly people noticing Leon isn't drinking, and shoving glasses of champagne into his hand. Luis handles it. To most people, he says that Leon prefers beer, and all the champagne and wine is just too fancy for him. He lets the people who are too tipsy to listen to reason hand him the drinks, and then takes it from Leon and drinks it himself when they walk away. 

“There's the dance floor…” Luis states playfully. “Dance with me, Prince Charming?”

“Sure, princess,” Leon rolls his eyes, but smiles. “But just junior high slow dance swaying type of shit. Nothing fancy. Don't try to twirl or dip me or anything like that.”

“Deal!”

Luis slips his suit jacket off, and finds someone to hold it and his trophy while they dance. Luis takes one of Leon's hands and sets his other on his waist. Leon puts his free hand on Leon's chest. All Luis had under the jacket was a mesh tank top, so Leon is almost touching bare skin when he puts his hand on his chest. While Leon wouldn't say he knows how to dance, he can do the basic swaying without embarrassing himself.

Leon notices a photographer prowling the dance floor, and gets excited. They don't have many romantic pictures.

“Hey, Luis?”

“Done? It's okay, thank you for dancing at all.”

“No, not done! Just changed my mind. You should dip me or something.”

“Seriously..?”

“Yes.”

“Why the sudden change in heart? You were very adamant that I not do that,” Luis's eyes wander, and then he gets a knowing smile. “You want to show off for the camera! You're not just tolerating all this, you like it!”

“Just shut up and do something dramatic.”

“I will. But not until you admit why you want me to.”

“God. You're annoying,” Leon rolls his eyes. “But fine. I love all of this. I love that you keep making it clear that I'm yours. Makes me feel special. Want you to do something that'll get the whole dance floor looking at us, and a picture to remember it.”

“Wow. I just thought you liked the attention, didn't realize you were that into the possessive stuff too. You are mine. You are special,” Luis's smile is almost blinding. “As soon as the photographer is looking our direction, I'll dip kiss you, give him a really good picture, okay?”

“Do I need to do anything?”

“Just hold on and trust me to not drop you.”

Luis wraps his arms around Leon's waist, and then waits. When he sees they caught the photographer's eye, he leans forward and dips Leon. Leon clings to his neck desperately. It's scarier than he anticipated, giving up all control and relying on Luis to support all of his weight. But he doesn't regret anything. He trusts Luis. He knows Luis wouldn't have indulged the request if he wasn't 100% certain that he wouldn't drop him. The clapping and whistling from others on the dance floor and Luis's mouth on his (he's kissing with tongue, which is definitely unnecessary for the the picture) also make it easier to ignore the fear.

Luis holds him like that for a few seconds, waiting for the camera flash before pulling Leon back up. Leon rests his head on Luis's shoulder to hide his face. He's a blushing, giggling mess. He hasn't had a drop of alcohol, but he feels wasted. Drunk on Luis and the attention. Luis keeps his arms around his waist and they sway like that for a couple more songs.

Then Luis goes to take his trophy and suit jacket back, and then he's dragging Leon off god knows where. Down a maze of back hallways. He's half convinced Luis wants to find somewhere for a quickie, and, well, he certainly won't object to that.

“Thank you for the dance. We take a break now,” Luis whispers, after finally finding a secluded bench to park Leon. “You and babies are still holding up okay?”

So this isn't a sex thing. Luis is just concerned. Which warms his heart a little bit, but he still manages to roll his eyes. “Darling, I'm fine. Don't even need to sit down yet.”

“You're still going to take a break now! An ounce of prevention, a pound of cure. Better to rest before you feel like you need to,” Luis insists. He kisses his forehead and gently pats his belly. “I'll be right back.”

Leon fidgets with the trophy while he waits for Luis to come back, running his fingers over the engraving. Then he looks around, making sure there still isn't anyone around.

“Hey. Your other dad just won a Grammy. It's a big deal,” While Luis was already pretty obsessed with talking to the babies, Leon felt awkward. It was hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact that it wouldn't be him talking to his own stomach like a crazy person, it's talking to his babies. But at the most recent appointment he was told they'd be able to hear soon, so he's trying to bury the awkward feelings and make an effort. He smiles when he gets a response. Not quite a kick yet, but a little flutter of movement. “But he's way more excited about you than any award. Bet he'll lose his shit when you get big enough that he can feel you moving too. You're really lucky, he's gonna be such a good dad to you.”

“Leon! Swearing while talking to my babies!” Luis scolds, with over dramatic faux outrage. Leon jumps, startled because he didn't realize Luis was already back. “Sorry I snuck up on you. But I brought you food!”

He sets a couple plates down on the bench. One piled with fruit, cheese and crackers on the other. His stomach is definitely the way to his heart, and Luis knows it.

“I gave up my movie star abs, alcohol, and my motorcycle,” Leon happily devours the plate of cheese and crackers in between words. Luis eats some of the fruit. “I am not giving up my favorite words too. Their first words being 'fuck' and 'shit' is a price I'm willing to pay.”

[newgenog]

REVENGE

Notes: This is NOT part one of chapter five. This is a teaser from chapter five.

If you're just stumbling across this, and haven't already done so, please stop and start by reading part one of chapter one.

This #Batwoman AU is based on the ABC tv series #Revenge. Ryan Wilder had just about everything taken from her when we met her, and she was doing her best to get it back. In this version of the story, that means taking some people down along the way. And, she's definitely no hero.

Let's just say chapter four was the mid-season finale and this is the spring hiatus trailer. And with that, I'll give you a game plan for this entire story.

We're going to finish this story by end of year.

In my story, season two of the tv series Batwoman parallels season one of the tv series Revenge, which will end with chapter 7.

I'm more or less skipping season two of Revenge, and will parallel season three for both shows.

I'll conclude with that season, too, ending on chapter 12. We're almost posting month for month with 2023, so that feels like a nice timeline.

Meet me here on Tumblr next Friday for part one of chapter five. Here's an out of sequence and context snippet from that part.

CHAPTER FIVE SNEAK PEEK

Tommy: “I knew you should have never trusted Robyn.”

Kate: “What are you talking about?”

Kate sips her drink, annoyed by the sudden accusation and shift in conversation. She wasn’t even aware that Tommy had an issue with Robyn.

Tommy: “Isn’t she supposed to be your friend, but she’s moving in on your girl?”

Kate sighs through her nose. 

Kate: “Regardless to how I feel, Sophie isn’t mine. And neither is Robyn. We all met her at the same time. She doesn’t owe any allegiance to me.” 

Tommy: “Right. What a coincidence. She just drops into all of your lives out of nowhere, and now she’s an integral part of it from every angle? You don’t find that odd?”

Kate: “Are you jealous of my relationship with Robyn? Because she’s been nothing but nice to you, so I don’t understand why you would randomly attack her, especially after you saw what just happened to her tonight.”

Tommy: “Seems pretty convenient to me.” 

Kate: “What the hell is convenient about having your recorded therapy session shared with a bunch of strangers?”

Tommy: “Exactly! Strangers! What do you even know about this woman? Because what I see is that your ex seems to be coincidently falling for her, she’s become besties with both Catherine’s and your most trusted employees, and she’s been in Gotham for 5 minutes and is suddenly included in a video leak of Gotham elites.”

Kate: “She IS a Gotham elite, or whatever, if you insist on using those terms. She’s the CEO at Jetirian. Of course she’d use the top recommended therapist. You know what, Tommy? I was just trying to confide in you about Sophie, and this insane rabbit hole you’re digging feels like you’re questioning my judgment in friends. And maybe you’re right about that, because I thought you, my friend, were supposed to be helping me figure out how to get out of this merry go round of feelings about a woman I still love who can barely tolerate me. But maybe you’ve had so much to drink that you’re becoming delusional.”

Tommy, relatively sober, because he’s been more focused on feeding drinks to Kate than consuming them himself, fights back the urge to follow up on the mysterious selection of Robyn as CEO of Jetirian, because he can tell she’s not going to listen to reason tonight. Tommy doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, but as someone who’s pulled a scam or two of his own, he knows one when he sees one. He throws an arm over Kate’s shoulder, bringing her in for a side hug.

Tommy: “Truce bestie! Maybe you’re right. I’ve missed you, and she gets to do all the fun stuff we used to do together. I’m sure you’re right, and I just need to get to know her as well as you do. So, let’s talk about how we get your girl back.” 

~~~~~

See you next week!

All #Batwoman things I do now are in the name of #SaveBatwoman. The month of May has so many fun activities planned for the campaign, including some committee members posting live updates from the #Starfury #Ultimates-Apokolips convention. Go follow @savebatwoman on social Twitter, Instagram, Facebook and YouTube.

[nathaniel-donovan]

The fact that this had been the first family meal together in decades, literal death bringing them together, and it still turning into a shit-show, spoke enough about their family dynamic. An atmosphere that just had Nate fall silent, unusual and out of character for him and yet? What was the fucking point of even trying - of bickering? It was wasted, falling on deaf ears because it didn't matter how true Logan's words were, they were never going to be listened to by the one person that needed to hear them. It was frustrating. It was a joke that at forty years old he was sat in his family home, feeling like he was fifteen again, it's a thought that knows that if their entire family unit had been more stable, more caring, Cassie may have still been alive. Hell, even their mom.

Lydia and Logan now snapping at each other only brought an annoyed sigh out of Nate, knowing that emotions were running high and the tension around them was enough to validate it, he just wished he was some place else. Not wanting to giving up and yet he was already doing it. He felt stupid for having even the tiniest bit of hope that they, as a family, could have mourned the loss of their sister without the entire situation turning nasty. It was almost like if they could have done, his outlook may have looked lighter and yet the cracks in everything they were, were just damned in darkness.

With Logan throwing her napkin on the table, pushing her chair out, Harold pulls his attention away from his drink and towards his youngest, "I think you need to think about how selfish you're being right now, Logan Claire, perhaps you should come back another day when you are not so emotional." His tone was strong, as if reprimanding her and everything she had said, while again paying no real care for the very abusive traits Logan had highlighted, it wouldn't be Harold if he apologised, after all. Why say sorry for forcing abusive and emotional trauma onto your children, when you saw nothing wrong with your actions? Drunk or sober, Harold Donovan was a piece of shit.

Harold's words pulled a brief dry laugh from Nate, almost as if he can't believe what he's hearing. He leans forward, elbows resting on the table while he washed his hands across his face, rubbing his eyes, clearly completely done with this get together, waiting to see what Logan did, wanting for her to leave so he could speak to Lydia and his dad, more so his sister because she needed to be better than trying to please a man that couldn't give a flying fuck about anyone but himself.

Logan's head snapped towards Nate the moment she heard her name, and she instantly regretted her words. Under different circumstances, she would have immediately apologized to Lydia, knowing what she said wasn't how she felt. However, it seemed as though thirty-three years of emotional trauma had suddenly surged to the surface, and she wasn't able to push it back down. But before she could say anything else, Lydia beat her to it. Her gaze shifted back to the plate in front of her. "Nate's absolutely right. This dinner wasn't about us; it was about Cassie… And mom, and trying to remember them as they were." Lydia shot Nate a look that said a silent thank you, before taking a bite of her own food. At least someone could enjoy it.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the mere sound of Harold's voice. Swiftly, she snatched her glass of wine and downed its contents, hoping it might somehow make this ordeal more bearable, though she held doubts about its effectiveness. All Logan wanted was to escape from this dinner, and out of that house, yet it was as if an invisible force seemed to keep her firmly planted at the table. Her anger was unquestionably justified, wasn't it? Although she understood that this was not the time nor the place to unleash it all, Logan couldn't stop it. Especially, when Harold kept trying to portray himself as the mourning father who had just suffered a great loss, as if he truly loved Cassie. The facade only fueled her anger, heightened by her own guilt. Her irritation only further grew as she watched everyone around her tip-toeing around, desperately trying to preserve whatever semblance of peace remained - mainly Lydia - all for the sake of Harold, an irony that wasn't lost on her, given he had never done that for any of his children, except perhaps Lydia.

"Should we remember the time you slapped her in front of everyone? Or the time you told her to leave and never come back. She didn't by the way." Come back that was. Logan sat the empty glass down, before turning her attention over to the head of the table where Harold remained. "Are you just looking for a fight?" Lydia snapped meeting her piercing gaze. Her words caused the brunette to scoff. "Are you delusional? Do you not forget that he taunted Nate at Mom's grave, and then put him in jail? Like am I the only one sitting here that realizes this is a bullshit attempt to ease his guilt of being a drunken dick?" "Well, if you weren't going to attempt to have a civilized meal, Logan, why did you even come? You're not doing anything but causing further pain." Logan clenched her jaw for a second, before grabbing the napkin from her lap and tossing it on the table, before pushing her chair back. "Good question, I don't even know why I'm here."

"Should we remember the time you slapped her in front of everyone? Or the time you told her to leave and never come back?" Logan sat her empty glass down and shifted her attention towards the head of the table, where Harold sat. "Are you just looking to start a fight?" Lydia snapped, meeting Logan's piercing gaze. Her words elicited a scoff from the brunette. "Are you delusional? Am I the only one who remembers, that not even a few months ago, he came to taunt me and Nate at mom's graveside, and then had him thrown in jail? Like am I the only person at this table who sees through his bullshit attempt to ease his guilt of being a drunken dick?"

"Well, Logan, if you didn't intend to have a civilized meal, why did you bother coming? All you're doing is causing more pain and I think the rest of us are suffering enough." Lydia's words were sharp, done with the younger woman's outburst. Logan clenched her jaw briefly, her eyes not moving from her older sister - before snatching the napkin from her lap and tossing it onto the table. "Good question." Pushing her chair back from the table. "I don't even know why I'm here."

[mjlovescm]

22- Bad idea

Completed, 27 chapters, “She’s an angel” Rodrick Heffley x black fem reader

I've had a lot of bad ideas in my lifetime. Do I regret them? No. Mostly because I know I've gotten away with them. But also because I know I'm the only one who will be getting in trouble for it. Or getting hurt. 

But this was a really bad idea. A really, really, really bad idea and it wasn't even mine, it wasn't fully hers either. It was his. 

Sure, it was just a party, but it was about the intention. Not just that, but the way he invited her, the way he spoke to her and looked at her. Just everything about him and y/n pissed me off. Mostly him though. Because it wasn't y/n's fault she didn't see, or even didn't want to see it. To her, he was just a new friend, I don't know why suddenly having me as a friend wasn't enough, but apparently it wasn't. 

I must have been thinking really hard without realizing, my fingers turn into drumsticks and start tapping against my knees. The drumming must have been annoying or distracting because for the first time tonight y/n takes her attention off getting ready and focuses on me instead. 

"What's wrong ?"

She asks, noticing the frown that my lips had formed into as I thought how this night was gonna play out.

"Nothing." I try to lie, but y/n can see through it.

"You sure ? You look completely spaced out." 

"Not like there's much to pay attention to."

My words must have come off a bit rude, because her expression quickly changes. Her brows pull together, and her face scrunches the same way her mom does before she says, "What the hell you talkin bout.". 

"I mean,  I did ask you to help me with my outfit, but you wanna just sit her and mope instead." 

"I was helping you, but you're taking too fucking long. Just put something on so we can leave." My words don't come off mean, they are mean. 

"Well, sorry, I wanna look good for my first party." She sounds obnoxious. 

I huff and roll my eyes. That should have been all I did, I should have stayed quiet and not let this turn into a big thing, but of course I didn't.

"Sure, you're not getting ready for your little mall boy." I whisper, barely. Refusing to say his name. 

She scoffs loudly. 

"Rodrick, why are you acting so fucking weird ? The moment I started being friends with someone who wasn't you or wasn't your friend, you wanna act like we're in elementary school." She snapped, the volume of her voice growing as she spoke. 

"Just because I'm friends with someone you don't like doesn't mean you have to stop being my friend." Her words suddenly hold much more weight. A weight that cracked her voice and pulled at the corner of her lips. 

"Be friends with whoever you want." I tell her, purposefully keeping my voice soft. "Just don't expect me to like him, and just because you're a good person doesn't mean everyone is."

"Does that include you?" She asks, back turned to me.

"Maybe it does." 

We sit in silence for the next few minutes. Both of us unsure what to say that won't make the other more on edge. She gets dressed quickly, stuffing her options into her closet and just throwing something on. The ride is awkward to say the least, we pick up Chris and Ben, giving them b.s smiles and excitement on our way to the party.  

"So how fucked up are you planning on it getting y/n?" Chris asks her with a cocky smile.

"Uh, probably not at all." 

"Right, gotta stay sober in case you wanna hook up with anyone, let's hope Rodrick bought condoms." Ben says, giving my shoulders playful punches.

I'm not sure how I let it slip my mind, but suddenly it becomes so obvious. Well it was always obvious, but now it's just much, much more obvious. He doesn't want to be her friend, he wants to fuck her.

Next chapter ;)

All chapters :)

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)

“Was it worth it?”

> genre : smut, angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 15k (ugh sorry)

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, LOTS of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; explicit description of sex; phonesex; masturbation (f); dirtytalk; alcohol drinking; dubcon exhibitionism; ambiguous infidelity

previous - masterlist

There's a lot of forgetting to get done. It wasn't the plan to get drunk. Maybe you should have known better than to confide the slightest about your heart and its aching to your two girlfriends. Because they don't have much of a solution to present you with. You meant to ask of them to divert your mind, make you laugh, feed you so much you'd fall into a food coma and wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sleep. Eventually, share their own dramas of the moment (they always have some) to get you so invested in their shits you wouldn't be thinking about your own.

You made the mistake of sharing, with probably too much preponderance in your tone, that Jungkook was back with his girlfriend.

Without any context clues -they didn't even know that he was single for approximately four days-, they knew. You're not that complicated to read when it comes to him. Only he seems to not get it.

You still remember the first time they found you out. They had a sense that something was up with this kid, that there couldn't just be a platonic, decade-old friendship based on nothing spicier than the tteokbokki you'd cook for him every now and then.

They only started believing, with utter incredulity, that it was true when they saw you, and him, and his girlfriend. All at the same time, sitting around the same table, there was no doubt left. No reason to believe that there's something unsaid existing. They saw your eyes though. The shine they gain whenever you'd be looking at him, laughing hard with all his teeth out, and the glassy look they took on whenever they'd catch a gesture, a touch that was meant only for Jiyeun.

You've never really gone into details. You've never ranted over the feelings, over him, everything that made him the one person for you. They saw you cry over him though, one drunken night, and it was enough to make them understand how deep you were in.

And perhaps it's your fault, that you wouldn't sort of train them to be the better friends they wish to be to you. They don't know what to say, what to do to console you. You don't even know what you need. Really, all you know, it's that you didn't feel able enough to take care of your tormented heart and mind alone tonight.

You are to blame if they dragged you to this bar, with the music too loud and the people too numerous, bumping their hips to yours attempting to coarse you into dancing. You hate every second of it. Every element that was supposed to distract you, help you forget, feel better, served as annoying distractions. You could picture yourself, dipped in a scorching hot bath, with a bowl of ice cream, weeping your eyes out like in the most cliche, most dramatic breaking down of your life. And it felt right, in your mind anyway, a thousand times better than this.

"Here!" Like the good girl that you are, you accept the shots. Min sets one in each of your hand and stares over the rim of her own glass, expecting. You roll your eyes. Swallow them down in one go and she yells, arms in the air, jumping like the night has just been made.

At least, she's entertained. Dancing her life away, kind of wilding out with too much energy, having to apologize every few seconds for knocking someone with an elbow or slapping another with her ponytail.

"Look, who's here!"

Your heart skips a beat then. Until you follow Mary's finger who's pointing rudely at Park Jimin. Park Jimin as in Jeon Jungkook's Park Jimin, one of his closest friends. He's dressed in all black, tight leather pants clawing to his legs, silk shirt half unbuttoned, perched on heeled Chelsea boots, dark black hair gelled back.

For a second, you worry, stupidly, if your friend is not going to appear, emerging from the thick crowd, carrying a drink, catching your eyes in the room. That's another thing you wouldn't need right now: seeing him. When you're in this weird state of sadness, guiltiness, of hopelessness and confusion. You'd probably be a mean bitch again. He doesn't deserve that.

For some time, you're just watching Jimin, being Jimin, dancing languorously, flashing smiles and winks so naturally; making everyone uncomfortable just because he's so attractive and so talented at catching people's attention and making them want him. It's just Jimin, hoeing out, as always. No Jungkook ever appears next to him. And while you sort of spy on him, there are the two dumb bitches next to you, drooling over him. Commenting about his ass, the way he moves his hips and how tight he seems to be in his pants.

"You should have fallen for him, dude!" It's the pinch to your arm that drags you back to the conversation, lets you know that you're the one Min is addressing. "What?" Your brain is already a bit slow. You haven't eaten much before leaving, drunk not much but too fast and forming intelligible sentences, translating your thoughts in their entirety is not a task easily doable at the moment. You meant to say something about how ridiculous they sound. About how it doesn't make any sense. About Jungkook and the things you feel for him, and the way you fell and how even when you suffer, like in this instance, you wouldn't change your heart because it's him, and only him, has been and might as well always be.

Why would you fall for Park Jimin?

"Jimin, you'd just ask him to fuck you and he'll do it."

"You can see he's a very generous slut."

It makes you wince. They're being fucking weird. Obnoxious, in their way of ogling him and quite disgusting talking about him. There's a smirk on the corner of Jimin's mouth and you wonder if maybe he's noticed them and is enjoying it. They don't mean to be offensive, you suppose, but they're still rude as hell.

"Useless Jungkook could never!"

Either you knock your friend out with your newly filled up glass or you drink it and attempt to swallow along your rage and that strange feeling that the open shirt Jimin is wearing has raised in you.

"Don't you wanna try him?" The question is absurd. You don't try people in general. But you'd never, ever, even think about trying someone as close as he is to Jungkook.

What the actual fuck?

"Fine! Don't give me those eyes!" Your brain and face connection is not that great at the moment that you'd know precisely what Mary is referring to. Soon after frowning and pouting through a sip of her drink, she's leaving, straight for the less crowded part of the bar, where people are dancing, where Jimin is showing off.

She needs less than thirty seconds to have him wrapped around her. Min is howling at your side like it's such an exploit. You don't want to bad mouth on your friend but it is, indeed, Jimin. Manwhore Jimin. And just like that, just because she walked in his vicinity, whispered something quickly to him, maybe just a simple greeting and a reminder of who she is, your friend, in case he couldn't make her out, and he's holding her tight, dancing, more like grinding against her, to her greatest pleasure, face buried in her hair, he seems to be uttering things directly in her ear. You catch her fingers reaching for the wide opening of his shirt, brushing against that tattoo you know to be there under his breast but have never gotten to really decipher, and he's leaving kisses on her shoulders. The next thing you see is his wide, wolf-like grin, now aiming straight at you.

You startle, almost let your glass shatter to the ground from the surprise. That seems to make him laugh. He waves a hand quickly your way and for some reasons, it sends a sudden flaming flush to your cheeks. That guy is such a cunt-tease, he's awful. No wonder people talk so crudely about him.

"I need to get plastered." You mumble, probably not loud enough for Min, whose arm you're dragging along on your way to the bar, to hear.

You may have thought, for a split second, of a fantasy. You may have reshaped the scene taking place in front of you to make it more suitable to you, to make it as self-indulgent as you could. With you replacing Mary, with Jungkook replacing Jimin. She made it seem so easy and for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was realisable. As if the only step missing, the only thing making it not real yet, is the first step, the one Mary took by just walking up to him and asking him to dance, maybe for you to be his for a while.

Then Jimin looked over, with his dark eyes and pretty luscious lips, his very sexy aura and everything that makes him him, and it all felt down to the ground. That's ridiculous.

That would never work.

Maybe hot men with the most endearing hearts that you really desire are not to be seduced by you. It just wouldn't happen. Jungkook would never, as she said. What a shame.

You should have fallen for someone easier like Jimin. He's not one person's man, that's for sure, but at least, he would have been great at pretending to be yours for a moment.

Now you really need to get drunk.

There's pure guilt boiling in the pit of your stomach. Because you've never denied your feelings for Jungkook. He deserves them. He deserves to be loved by everyone. Deeply and passionately. And no matter how true, how pure, how intense those feelings are, he never owes to reciprocate, does he? And here you are, greedy stupid little you, sad and angry because of course, he couldn't love you back like that. Not when there's fucking Jiyeun in the way. Jiyeun or any fucking one else, right?

He's not making it easy for you. Everything he does is making your life harder. As if it wasn't enough on its own already.

Everything he does.

Like buying you these fucking toys you need a science degree to operate.

Sort of.

Maybe you don't need a science degree. Maybe a sober head would be enough to make a toy you've never used before function.

You don't have that at the moment. You're in your favourite pyjamas - an extra-large, greyed by time tee-shirt you stole from Jungkook back in high school - and panties - because it sounded like way too much effort to find shorts or joggings and slip them on. You've managed, somehow, you don't even remember doing it, to make your bed all cosy and welcoming, a perfect backrest made of your fluffiest pillows.

The little toy, this orange thing, sort of shaped like a fat bunny, a big, rounded body with two straight little ears, pointed upwards. It's supposed to be fully charged. It's been disinfected. It's just waiting for you to use.

Except it's the last one Jungkook had bought for you, you didn't get to use it yet, to even turn it on once, nor read its instructions. And here you are, past two am, trying, with your sloppy brain, your blurry eyes, and your impatient cunt, to understand how it works. There's an app linked to it. This much you got from the big, unmissable QR code occupying the first page of the three-page long manual that your eyes won't read.

You picked up your phone, went through the violent burning of your eyes when the screen lit up too close to your face, scanned the code, installed the app and here you are, stuck.

The app won't let you turn the fucking toy on. There's a message that keeps coming up every time you try to link the app to the toy. But the message is written in grey, on white, and you can't see shit and you don't have the patience to decrypt it. Maybe if you close it, and try running it again, and try scanning the code again, and just click on the button that appears under the message, whatever it says, maybe it'll work.

Except it doesn't. After a certain number of times (keeping up with the counting is another thing you can't do well right now) the app keeps on being a bitch. Keeps being difficult and reluctant, and unwilling to let you fucking get off and go to sleep.

You're on the verge of tears.

Why would it be so fucking difficult to make a fucking sex toy work?

Why?

You're so annoyed and impatient and angry now and it's all Jungkook's fault anyway.

You can't try to go to sleep, no matter how tipsy you are, because your brain is filled up with this asshole and won't let you alone. You can't fuck yourself to sleep because the toy you've picked - and for totally irrational reasons you feel like you can not switch to another one - won't let you and it's his. His fucking present. Fucking poisoned gift.

He makes everything worse. Everything difficult. And the more your eyes fill up with frustration tears, the more you're reminded that he's also the answer. He's the worst and the best part of your existence.

Of course, you'd call him.

"I could be sleeping." His voice is light and clear. He wasn't any close to be asleep. He's probably gaming or something. You're so thankful for his voice, the lovely thing, the comforting thing, that you don't even get mad at his aforehand teasing.

"Jungkook-" It's not a call of his name. It's a whine, almost a lament at this point. Tiny high tone, overly dragged vowels. Something like Juunggooo, and he must recognize the tone straight away because he starts laughing in your ear. You bite on your bottom lip hard, almost draw blood, squeeze your fist over your heart, as if it could help it handle it better.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

"Went out with the girls?" You hum as an answer. "Had a little too much fun, sweatheart?"

"No fun at all."

He's laughing again. His sly, mocking chuckle. He's too himself for you to get mad at him. He's too cute when he sounds boyish and happy like that.

"No fun?" He's having fun, it's hearable. It might be because you sound like a dumb, whiny kid. "Why is that?"

"Just cause." He hums like he understands. You hear mockery in it. He sounds a bit distant. As if he's not totally paying attention, as if you're really a four-year-old kid rambling some non-sense after school and their parent just barely pretends to be interested. "Junggooo, I'm trying to have my fun now but your thing is being mean to me."

"What thing?" He's definitely doing something else. He speaks a bit slow, you can picture his gaze far from you. And of course, it'd be, he couldn't even see you even if he tried. It's still vexing. He really doesn't want you to have him all for yourself. Why not fucking Jimin?

"The orange bunny you got me." You explain patiently, pouting a bit. You try your best not to have your vexation be too loud but it's hard. "I tried the app but it won't let me."

"The orange-" You hear it when the gears click. He even gasps a bit. You kind of brought it up out of nowhere when you accommodated him with your constant complains and fights pretty much each time he wanted to talk about this subject. And here you are, opening up a conversation on one of them. You kind of get where the shock is coming from. "Oh, the Gala thing." He even knows its name. "What- How isn't it working?"

"The app says I'm too drunk to use it." You quetch, glaring at the toy laying flat on its back next to you. The asshole.

"The app says what?"

"Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?" Hysteria was to be expected. Because here you are sad and drunk and horny and highly frustrated and it seems he keeps making you repeat everything. And of course, he would because he can't give you his undivided attention now, can he? Because he's not a generous slut like Park Jimin, he's a useless prick. And if he keeps being one, and he keeps upsetting you, you promise to yourself, as an act of self-love and self-respect, you'll tell him he should be better, he should be more like Park Jimin.

"I am, baby, but I'm confused."

Except he doesn't need any bettering, does he?

It's like he's heard your thoughts. Like somehow, even with the distance separating your two apartments, he's been able to read them directly on the lines of your heart. He knows what you need, the soft and gentle and tender Jungkook who takes care of you, the one that doesn't show often, especially now that you don't really go out and get pissed off drunk together, now that you don't expose the sad episodes you might have to him in fear of being precisely confronted to this perfect torture. Maybe he heard your mind calling Park Jimin's name too many times and he tries to ensure his position. You almost tell him not to bother. That it was just a taunt, it's always him, just him, will ever be.

"What does the message say?"

"That I'm too drunk and stupid to use it."

"I don't think that's what's written, baby."

"But-" You're seriously going to cry in a second. You don't even know from what. The app really succeeded in hurting your feelings by not working for you and he keeps calling you baby, it makes your whole inside boil and scorch like a puddle of lava. "It's invisible letters, how am I supposed to read exactly?"

"If you can't read maybe you should just go to bed for now, hm? Figure it out tomorrow."

"No, now." Full brat mode is on. You know if only he was sitting next to you, you would have raised a hand to pinch him right on the back of his upper arm -where it really stings. It works usually. You don't hurt him, the guy is basically made of muscles, he's the kind of work out junkie that's enjoying the pain. He wouldn't fucking mind your tiny attempt of an attack, no matter the amount of anger and frustration powering it.

By telephone though, it's even harder to make him do something. Possibly undoable. The only weapon that you have is your annoying screeching voice. "You fix it! You bought this shitty thing so you fix it."

"I forgot how rude you get when you're drunk." He's still making fun of you. Not taking you that seriously.

"Jungkook, I'm seriously going to cry." The worst part is that you mean it. If regular menaces won't do, surely affection blackmailing should be more effective.

"Don't cry, it's fine. I'll check. Don't hang up."

As if. You did not plan on hanging up. Ever. You've decided.

It's too nice, cuddled up in your bed, with his voice, smooth and soft, saying words that you really like, like baby, in your ear. You've decided this moment won't ever stop.

"Junggoo-"

"One second, baby." You don't have one fucking second. You don't have any fucking second to spare him. When he's made you horny and lonely and longing for so fucking long. Why would you spare him any more? He takes too long. The time he takes, you prophet, will precisely be the time your vagina will need to dry out entirely.

Even his soft voice calling you baby won't serve to make you wet again.

That's a lie.

It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.

"Oh." Your ears perk up. He's back with you, his voice closer than before, it seems, when he starts explaining, a hint of guilt shadowing his tone. "Sorry, it's my fault."

"Of course, it is." You mumble, face deep in your pillows. "Jungkook! Everything's your fault, always." You're probably being unfair. Or maybe not. Is he responsible for making you fall for him or are you to blame for doing so? Turns out, it doesn't really matter, because he doesn't even pay attention to the blatant, telling, honest truth you've just spurred.

"When I received the package I tried it once."

"Tried?" Did he really? The cute little bunny-shaped thing you'd dismissed earlier, cursed at and threw daggers at suddenly looks different to you. You want to pick it up and maybe place a kiss on the top.

"Wait- Not like that! I didn't actually try it! I don't have a fucking clit, what-"

"You just said that!"

"I meant, I tried turning it on and linking it with the app, just to see how it worked. Like the options on the app."

"Oh." Makes more sense.

"Anyway, it's not working for you because I used my email with it and you can only have one." So many words. God. "I have to invite you. Or delete my account and then you make one with your QR code."

You turn into the whiniest, most irritating little thing then. Just a jumble of dramatic cries, something almost sorrowful because your issue appears impossible to deal with. It's not that complicated. He explained it. Too many words, too much thinking, too much paying attention, too much to do and too much delay. How does he expect you to do it when you can't even read the invisible font of the app?

"Fucking invite me then."

"Watch your mouth." It makes you roll your eyes. It's not the first time he says that. He says with this menacing growl at the end. Like he means it. Like he's really threatening you. But no matter how far you go, no matter how many times you curse at him, he never acts on it. You want to tell him, you almost do, to stop promising you things he won't ever give you. There's a ping coming from your phone. With a bit of a struggle, you manage to put the speakers on, so that he doesn't leave too far whilst you take a look at the message. A link to click on. Not that hard, it's bright blue, unmissable. It leads you back to the bitchy app.

Now it's all nice to you. It lets you enter, presents even a picture of your own toy, congratulates you for being linked to it and to Jungkook's account. Of course, it would. Now that it knows you're friends, now that he's in the thing, this bitch of an app is being nice.

There are a lot of symbols, every-fucking-where. Some wavier than others. One is shaped like a music note. Some are just little constellations of dots. You click somewhere, just to try and see if anything happens and it does.

Suddenly, the bunny is brought to life and starts purring furiously on the bed. It startles you, looks a bit intimidating. It sounds angry and complicated with all of these fucking options. At least the other toys he's gotten for you had at most two buttons, one to turn it on and off, and the other one to regulate the three levels of intensity.

You might actually need a science degree to use that. Simply to adjust it so it's not attacking you when you turn it on.

You press another button. The setting changes instantly. It starts vibrating in a jerkier way instead of one straight line of frequency.

Tentatively, you grab it, sort of unimpressed and dubious as to the way this would feel good on you. You've already grown grudges against it. It needs to impress you, prove to you that it's worthy of the effort and of you even bringing it to your precious temple.

It sucks at convincing you. You've brought it to your panties and tee covered crotch, pressed it there, waiting, and it doesn't do much. It vibrates. Weirdly. It stops and goes again, in a pattern you don't understand and it doesn't do much for you. Doesn't turn you on, doesn't make you wet. Doesn't stimulate in any positive way.

You reach for your phone with one hand, trying to keep the other one holding it against you, and it's here that the whole thing fucks up for the last time you can tolerate.

How are you supposed to fucking do that?

Don't they understand that? The people that make those fucking things? That they're going to be used mostly by single people, with a single pair of hands? How are you supposed to manage holding it up where you need it, whilst simultaneously, hold your phone up (everyone fucking knows holding a phone up with one hand, and tap on the fucking screen, especially laid in bed, is impossible and the worst fucking idea one could have - except if getting a black eye is the project) and control the intricate dashboard.

"For fuck's sake!"

"What is it?" Jungkook is sighing heavily in your room. And for a second, you're startled almost off of your own bed. You managed to forget he was even still here, on the other line, apparently waiting patiently for- for what exactly? Maybe for you to wish him goodnight and hang up. You literally forgot he was here. You were about to get yourself off -if only this shitty thing wasn't so shitty- whilst he was still here on the phone.

Why doesn't it mortify you?

"How am I supposed to use my phone and the thing at the same time? Why- How? Jungkook!"

"Stop saying my name like that!" You don't ask because you know exactly how you're saying it. There's no proper balance in your tone tonight. Either you're whining his name like a desperate brat, either you're pestering it like a disappointed, aggravated mom.

"I'm going to cry." You say again, lying this time. You've already started. It's not a lot yet. Just a puddle of tears, in each of your eyes that are just about to spill, and the prickling sensation at the tip of your nose, the latter has already starting sniffling uncontrollably.

"Why?" He sighs again. This time, it's gentler. He might have just found the key to the secret safe holding the very last drops of indulgence he hides deep inside his kind heart. "Baby, the app is really for couples."

"But I'm not a couple, I just wanna cum."

"Y/N-" He chokes on your name. "There are buttons on the toy for you to use. You don't have to use your phone, okay?"

"You're lying."

"Why would I be lying? Look! There are fucking buttons."

There are, indeed. But they suck, you think. You do try them. Pressing on them while you stretch your arms out to keep the bunny's ears close to your covered clit. It's so much work. You don't get it. The buttons are hard to press on, when you manage to activate the little monster, it just jabs against your centre, falls over from your hand. You hate the jerking motion, try to change it because clearly, it won't do. It doesn't work. The buttons suck, the toy sucks and Jungkook is cursing at you instead of helping.

"What do you want me to do? Baby, I'm- Just go to bed."

You hate that he's telling you to go to bed, again. He's probably right. You're being a pain, an embarrassing one at that. You can't just go yet, though. First of all, the very reason you called in the first place, for him to make it so you can fuck yourself to sleep, has not been effectively resolved. And on top of that, the very resolution you took earlier, the one of never hanging up, of never drawing a period to this moment, won't let you.

"This one sucks ass."

"It doesn't." He sounds calm, a bit quiet, tone low and collected. You wonder if he'd dropped whatever he was doing, whatever distraction and laid in bed like you, to listen and talk to you only. That would be nice. You're annoying as hell, poor him, he deserves better, but you're thankful for him.

"It's stabbing, how can it be nice?"

"You just- I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're drunk."

"Am not, you are."

He scoffs, doesn't bother insisting. He exhales deeply. You sigh as deep. Your lids are heavy. Your brain is fuming too. Your head feels fuzzy. You could sleep right now. You might make a terrible night. You might have nightmares. You might wake up in a few hours, hot and very bothered, frustrated and on edge. There's a little ping messing with an edge of your eyebrow. You know it'll grow into a headache soon.

"Junggoo..." You whimper as if he could help you. As if he's the key to this headache, to lock it away, along with the rest of your tormented feelings.

"You're tired, baby." He comments. You would bite if you were in front of him. He really wants to send you to bed. "Just go to sleep."

You should. Given that you need a good five minutes to find the energy to open your mouth and mumble, "Don't wanna."

"Then what is it that you want?"

"Told you."

"Hm?" You're not saying it again. You could fall asleep right now. With his slow breathing in your ear. It sounds so lovely. Feels like you've never been this nicely enveloped. It's like those ASMR or lo-fi music compilation videos on YouTube. The ones with the short scene, often animated, playing on the screen. It's instant peace, instant chill, purely quiet, greatly pleasant. You love these sceneries. You even have a few printed on your wall. They are great to look at and try to project in, because it seems you could never create this feeling, this atmosphere in real life.

But you've reached it. Now. The perfect peaceful land. With the perfect soundtrack coming through your phone. You're comfy and warm, it's almost as if he was actually there with you, wrapped behind you, stroking your hair. God, you wish he was there stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. But he's not here. And why? He should be here. If he can be on the phone with you, when he used to come over to make sure the blanket is nicely tucked under your chin, why can't he be here? Life's so unfair.

"What was that?" He's probably referring to the big loud thump, throwing his toy to the ground made. It's not its fault. Even if it hurt your feelings, it's not responsible for him not being yours. Or maybe it is. He wouldn't give you toys if he were yours. He wouldn't need them. That's probably why Jiyeun doesn't like them. Because she wants him to be all that's pleasuring her. The lucky lucky bitch.

"Your stupid toy."

"Don't- do you know how much it cost?"

"Never told you to buy it."

"Sure, but don't break it! I promise it's good. You can't-"

"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.

"You- are insufferable." He sounds about done. Except he's not because he seems to want to prove you wrong, still. The toy on the ground starts shaking back to life. Curiously, you roll on your belly, throw a glance to the ground. It's stirring, moving around slowly, getting closer to you as if it's trying to hop back up on the bed. "Pick it up."

You do as you're told. It's vrooming lightly, quieter than you expected. You can hardly feel it in your palm. The movement more noticeable from the timid sound than by the intensity.

"Oh. It's nice now." Maybe it does have a conscience. It's being all sweet and mellow because the remote is in Jeon Jungkook, international heartthrob's hands.

"See?"

It's really gentle. It turns cute. With its bright orangy-red shade, its two cute ears and its belly, a bit domed to allow a better grip.

Your hand has a mind of its own. If he were to ask about it, to demand an explanation, even when you'll come later, and wonder mad and revolted and half dying of embarrassment, what the fuck came over you, you'd blame it all on your hand. The appendix and its own personal free will are bringing the thing back to your crotch. "You can switch the intensity, it was just at the highest before." You're hardly aware of Jungkook still talking in your ear. The phone on speaker is still laying on the pillow next to you and he's selling it to you, while demonstrating, as if he's signed a sponsorship with the brand. It could be funny but you don't really care, more curious about The Gala and finally getting to know it.

Soon enough you realize that two layers of clothing, no matter how thin, are too much. You lift the hem of his tee, exposing your panties and the lines of your mound, showing through the tissue. It makes sense then, the shape of the thing. It has those two straight ears, or poles, with enough space in between, to tuck your clit comfortably. If you'd like. And you're not sure it won the privilege just yet.

For now, it'll have it but still over your panties. They're so flimsy that really the fitting isn't too far from its initial conceptualized use. "And the modes- see," It's jerky again. It goes for a couple of beats very quick short pulses and then there's a long, monotone one until the pulses come back again. You don't like that one. It's gentler than the one from earlier, that tried to attack your clit with an angry strong beating though. "You can just switch. If you don't like the fast pulses, you don't have to use it. You just try it out." You guess he's right. You just have to try it, tame it. Learn its functions and let it learn you. Probably. Sounds like a lot of work though. The other ones were really straight forward. Good, excellent for some - special shout out to the clit hoover, which is not actually vacuuming but blowing air, which made you cum so fast and so hard in the very first two minutes of trying it. You'd turn it on and it'd do the job. Next to your ear, rambling like a radio you'd forget to turn off in another room, Jungkook is explaining how there are dozens of preset patterns and an infinite amount of slots for personal creations.

It's okay. Sounds like it would do the job. You can already tell how you'll use it if you ever decide to give it a second chance after tonight. Pressed tight against your button, turned a bit higher, in a very basic, very classic constant monotone vibration.

He's switched it to another stabbing like pulsing, very fast and aggressive, you can tell they meant to imitate the pattern of a good pounding but it does little to nothing to your excitation. Really all it does is make your eyebrows frown and your premise of a headache is back. "Hate that one."

"Change it." Kindly, he complies. Another one. You can't really identify it. Maybe a slower thrusting. It's better than the last one simply because it doesn't nearly hurt. Doesn't do much good either. But maybe it's not doing much over your panties though therefore curiously, with eyebrows furrowed now in concentration, you lift the waistband up with a finger and slip the bunny under it. Tentatively, you try to set it nicely where it should be resting, your clit out in the open, hugged tightly by the two ears replacing your lips. It's kinda nice. Barely though.

"So is-"

"Wait, turn it up a bit. I can't even tell what that's doing." You mumble maybe a tiny bit petty, a bit bad faith remaining from the bad impression the toy gave you. It's not that you want to hate because you've decided you would. It's more intricate than that. You're too tipsy to even try and explain that though.

"That one is-" After a while, doesn't do much. The higher setting, you suspect he hasn't gotten up a lot, hardly helps. It does vibrate but it doesn't seem to reach enough, your clit hardly feels anything. Your electrical toothbrush from your horny teenage years used to do a better job at being a vibrator -and this even over your jeans.

You're this close to throwing it to the ground again and give up on it, once and for all. Jungkook would need to understand. It's not because he spent a lot on it, it's not because that strange lady he keeps mentioning insisted on its good, that you are forced to appreciate it. You don't see the fucking point of this one. It does look cute and expensive but is pretty much useless. No one needs a pretty, expensive but awful friend.

"It sucks."

For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. You consider that he might have even hung up. But then, in the quiet, his voice too serious for him not to have taken what you said personally breaks out. "You're mean."

"I think- I think it's a good opportunity to decide- uh..." The toy is still active in your panties, under your palm. The realization slowed your process of thought for a second but the bigger conclusion that it brings is that really, it sucks. So bad you even forgot it was still on -and it's not you being too drunk to have a fully, 360 awareness of your body, honestly. "To decide collectively that you need, you have to stop buying me those."

"They're not all bad! You loved the other ones!" He accuses, apparently not up for the collective decision. You are probably made of confusion at this point. How many more does he feel the need to get you? Is it that great, that gigantic, that tragic of a frustration that he developed by his girlfriend not liking these that he feels the need to bury you alive with thousands of those? The secretive shelf at the bottom of your dresser already holds little to no place left for another pretty box. And as to the satin bag you use to store the toys themselves, in your bedside table's drawer, you can't even close it anymore.

"When have I ever said that? We talked about one, I said it's fine."

"That's not what you said." Honestly, right now, you have no idea what you said. You know that you didn't find great easiness in talking about them. You've never mentioned any and he never did either, apart from the very first one. You did say something positive about it, you think you can recall. "I don't listen to you anyway because I know how bad of a liar you are."

"Well great. Blatantly admitting you don't care about my feelings-"

He bursts out in laughter. You might be a little bit of a drama queen right now. The hand that is not holding the bunny against your mound -for reasons you don't care to address to yourself, probably for you being so lazy that it feels more like an effort to change your hand's doing, take out and put away the toy, rather than just leave it there quiet and not really bothering- did reach for your chest, in a very theatrical embodiment of an offence.

"That's not what I said, you brat."

"That's what I heard though."

"I said I don't trust your mouth when the rest of you is saying something else entirely." You roll your eyes. Hopefully loud enough for him to hear it on his side of the call. "It's my new passion." He starts, giggling like an idiot. "I won't stop for as long as orgasms will look this good on you."

Oh. My God.

Is he allowed to say that? Is he allowed to say shit like that with the most calm you've ever heard anyone speak with? Like it's normal. Like it's a simple fact. Like the word orgasm in itself isn't so foreign in his mouth. Somehow he makes it sound incredible, so delicious you feel the first proper impulse to your pussy.

"You've never seen it." You counter, uneasy, feeling somehow unbalanced and unprepared against what is probably a simple conversation to him but a real personal attack with too great of weapons to you.

"I've seen the aftermath. I told you already." You wish he'd be more explicit. His words are confusing. They're not telling enough. They can be so much, they might not mean anything. He speaks softly, tranquilly, almost whispers in your ear. It's simply late. It's more appropriate, it feels, to speak quietly like that. It's one of those midnight talks.

He wouldn't know whenever he is seducing you. He's doing it constantly without meaning to. It's just him being himself and you being too weak for him. How could you make out his intentions now?

"You really-" The toy twitches in your hand. He clicked on the switch button of his app again. You're not sure why. From the way he speaks, he might not even have realised. He might be playing with the thing, mindlessly, the way he does when he picks at the skin of his fingers when he talks. He must be because he's still in his own head, talking while the thing, the barely interesting thing, turns into something else. Entirely. It's a wave-like pattern. Growing from pure stillness to a slow, growing vibration that ends in an intense climax. You gasp. He doesn't seem to hear. "You really don't want me to get you any more?"

The second wave hits. "Oh- God."

"I mean- I thought, we were- that it was okay." The sensation is incredible. For some reasons, a technology you don't fucking understand, you wouldn't fucking understand now, every single build hits insanely hard. Each time as intense if not better. You're so close to moaning. If you haven't really taken a second to realize what you were doing, actually using the toy with him on the phone, without him even knowing, somehow you know you need to remain quiet. You can't moan out loud. You sigh loud though. You have to. "I swear with you it's so hard to tell-" It's so hard to keep quiet and the realization brings a grin to your face. You're not that vocal usually. Sometimes you are, with some of the surprisingly good sessions Jungkook's presents have been offering you. But it was conscious. It was you enjoying, wanting to build a bigger pleasure, make it more sensational, it turned you on a bit, you had to admit, to hear yourself. The pleasure the toy is bringing you right now is indescribable. The more you leave it pressed to your clit, the more you feel the heat grow. You know it's already too much. You hiss and sigh, and have to bite back moans each time the high top of the wave comes. It's too much and feels like not enough.

The greedy you would want the final hit of the wave to last longer than those very few seconds. Long enough to bring you there, make you fall over the top of the hill. But it's a teasing setting. Probably programmed specifically for overstimulation. You squirm and bite back whines each time it comes, flinch and have to fight to not tear the ears away because you know the sensation is a lot to handle, too much stimulation, yet you're already addicted, unable to act on the very fair, logical, and sensible decision you should make. You shouldn't even be pleasuring yourself with him on the fucking phone.

"Are you okay?"

Jungkook asks, after having stopped talking altogether for a minute too long but it's not like you were really in any state of mind to acknowledge it.

You don't think he's noticed yet. From the noise, hopefully little, that you were making, at most, he should be able to hear some sort of short breathing, for all you know, he might think nausea is visiting from all the alcohol you've consumed and you're heaving, on the verge of throwing up.

"You're not feeling well, Y/N?" It's his concerned tone. The serious one. The one he uses whenever there's no skip button to the conversation. Usually, it leads to him coming over to take care of you like he's your mother. Which sounds great in theory but doesn't always apply wonderfully in practice.

Sometimes you don't want him to see you looking green and gross from fever sweat; sometimes you just want to be alone and recover on your own without having him watching so dramatically concerned over your shoulder. And now, you wouldn't want him to burst in with your hand still in your panties, a sweaty, bothered, horny mess for him to be left shocked and possibly disgusted by. Maybe disgusted is a big word. Or maybe it's not. How inappropriate is it to masturbate with an unknowing friend on the other end of your phone? Is it even legal?

"I'm fi-fine, Jungkook." You lie through gritted teeth. You can't possibly be fine. You've put yourself in the worst situation and you still don't do shit to get out of it. Something is very much wrong with you.

The logical thing to do, the sensible one, would be to either end the conversation, hang up and then eventually finish yourself; or else, take the thing out of your panties, possibly throw it the further away from you and keep the conversation on if that's what you wish to do.

It would certainly not be to ask for him to turn up the setting because you now really much want to come.

"You don't sound fine."

"But I am."

"How much did you drink?"

"Not that much, Guk." He makes you frown, almost rips a curse out of you. Because all this serious talk is diverting you from your pleasure. It's not like you're going to have fucking alcohol poisoning. You didn't drink that much, honestly. The drinks were not even that heavy, except for the two disgusting shots your friend forced in your hands. "Seriously, I'm good." The building up pleasure has brought a new awareness to your brain, and honestly, you feel way more alert than before. You're far from drunk, no matter how much your behaviour seems to contradict that. You're good. You'd be perfect if he'd shut up or if he'd start half seducing you as he does. Maybe he could talk about your nipples again and what you should do with them.

He did say that. Now that you come to think of it. On top of buying you those toys, he did guide you as to what to do with some of them, how you could use them. They were not his direct advice, they were the lady's but still, he felt the importance to share them with you.

"If you are then just answer the question, how much?"

"Okay in a sec but can you turn up the toy's intensity, please?"

"Turn what?" You almost bark then. The whistling f of a very practical, very useful word you shouldn't yell at him rings to your own ear but you're strong enough to hold back. "Ah the thing, yeah, sure." What a sweetheart. A bit slow, but lovely. Your whole body contracts violently when the newly powered wave hits, the beginning of a moan escaping because it's so good, it's almost painful. "I had like two shots of-" Ah. "Something. I don't know what it was, just-" Fuck. "Gross as- uh." Holy shit, that's good.

You can't believe you've judged this intricate, revolutionary technology so bad before. "And then, like, a martini or two, barely and- and-" You're so fucking close. Each time feels like the final ascension except you get back to square one whenever the vibration drops back to stillness too quick to your liking. It's pure torture. And having to make a fucking list of your consumption that's so far back in your brain right now, especially when you know that it's pointless, is not helping.

"Wait-"

"Jungkook-" You don't know if you're begging him to stop thinking now, not get to the conclusion his logical train of thoughts is trying to lead him to, or if you're begging him to help you cum, maybe be nice to the bunny which only seems to be kind to him and make him make you cum.

"Why did you ask me to turn the thing up?" He already knows the answer. You can hear in his tone that he already knows. And frankly, he's a dumb ass for not realizing sooner. "No, you're joking. You wouldn't- not when I'm talking to you."

"When if not then?" Maybe frustration has brought you some bravery, or maybe pleasure has burned the very last remaining functioning cells of your brain.

"Uh?"

It's probably gone too far now. It still feels like he owns the key to the phenomenal orgasm you can smell coming. If you were to hang up now, you wouldn't even know how to make this shitty thing work. And it's not enough. Still.

Shit.

You're definitely wailing in a second now. The next sound you mean to conceal is a sob. Why can't you reach it? And how can you be so hyper-focused on it, it doesn't seem to matter what's going on with Jungkook.

You've gone crazy. Or perhaps you're drunker than you thought yourself to be. The last wave hits differently. It's straight-up overstimulation when you haven't even come once yet. Doesn't feel very nice but at least, it's the push you need to finally lift it up a bit, make a pause and eventually show some consideration to Jungkook.

"So you've been arguing with me, saying it sucks when really you were-"

"It did suck before you changed the setting." You assert again. Because nagging is the thing you're most talented at doing, apparently.

Silence ensues. In the defeating quiet you realize even the discreet humming of the toy has stopped. He's turned it off.

Something akin to shame is finally showing the tip of its nose. It's been fucking late to the party, you note with a growing, you know to become, devastating mortification. Exhaustion and tipsiness are keeping your conscience quite numb but you don't give a chance to sober-you who'll wake up tomorrow with this awful incident engraved in her memory.

Why can't he say something? Essentially, it's his fault. It's always his fault. He makes you feel things you shouldn't and make you do things you wouldn't. You can't think properly. You're being fucking chaotic and he's responsible for that. Even you know it's reaching. You're not that petty and mean.

In a whisper, dipped in sincerity and shame, you apologize. "Sorry, Jungkook."

"For what?" Because he can't let you off the hook that easily, can he?

"Are you seriously going to make me say it? You know why!" Here comes angry-you again. Getting mad and rude for no rational reasons, and here, awfully unfairly. He really deserves better.

"No, I-" You may have broken him. Jungkook has never been the most eloquent person. Between lisping and stuttering and stopping mid-sentence to let you complete for him his missing words, he's never been the best at talking. But even for him, even knowing his history, you find him pretty affected. Possibly all messed up. There's not even the hint of sensible thought. A void filled with "uh" and "tsk" and lips smacking and hums, it's like he's ceased to function. Maybe if you just hang up and from then on, just pretend it's never happened, both of you can get away with the situation. It's an option.

"Jungkook, seriously, I'm sorry. Let's say it was a fucking, uh, drunk lapse of judgment on my part and- yeah, never mention it again."

"Yeah, okay." He whispers after a while. He sounds really shaken up. "But it's fine, I'm not mad, I'm just-"

"Bamboozled?" You suggest, heart constricted, not ready to joke yet but so desperate to obtain at least a smile from him to prove yourself that it's okay and you didn't fuck it up too bad.

"Bamboozled, indeed." He chuckles, a bit breathless on the phone. You can't help the big sigh that escapes you when relief rushes through you. He doesn't sound too upset with you. "I'm really not mad, I just wouldn't have- I wouldn't have expected this, from you."

Of course not. It makes you cringe. You bury your face in your pillow and release the most intense quiet cry you could manage.

"Sorry." You say again, quiet. Your eyes are prickly. This night is such a mess. You can't make out how you're feeling. It's like your reactions and your reflections all come to their own rhythm, inappropriately, unmatching each other's and certainly unmatching the current situation.

"Stop. And don't-" If you're decomposing yourself progressively, at least, he seems to be getting back to his senses. Voice clearer and more present. "You sound so upset now. Are you embarrassed?" It's a smile you hear in his words. You don't have the right to be mad at him but honestly, you would have hit him in the ribs if he were in front of you.

"Is it even necessary to ask?" You grumble face half suffocating still in the pillow. Oh, here's another solution. Suffocating yourself to death.

"I think so. I mean I bought them and I turned it on for you, I should have- I couldn't have known but I should have. It's fine honestly."

"It's not."

Stop pretending, you fucking liar. Even if he acts quite calm, nonchalant, you can hear a very slight difference to his usual tone. He's not sincerely, honestly, a hundred per cent okay and chill with the situation. He's faking casualness but he's not entirely it.

"It is."

"It's not. I'm just gonna die, Jeon." That makes him laugh even though you're only half-joking. You don't know if it's possible to die from embarrassment. One thing is for sure, if it's possible, you won't survive the night.

"No, you're not, baby. It's fine." Jeon Jungkook is the sweetest, needless to say. You should hang up. Apologize again, hang up and pray for him to forgive you and eventually forget all about it. But you remain on the phone because you're so desperate for his approbation and his love and any sign of reassurance from him. And he's giving it to you. When he could probably have a little rest of his own. If it's awkward for you, you can't even imagine for him. But he accepts to stay and reassures you. What a cutie. "Did you cum?"

You choke on your own saliva. More than taken aback, actually shocked. How dares he?

Or can you say that? Can you act offended when you've just done what you did? In any case, how are you even supposed to answer that question?

"You- It's just that I turned it off and we- I was just wondering if you did..." That sounds about right. That sounds like Jungkook being curious and wording this curiosity without necessarily anticipating how you'd take it. It must be part of his plan, his 'let's be the closest, let's share everything' plan he mentioned a few months back. You're not ready, won't ever be if that's what it'll look like.

You are the problem. Apparently, you can get yourself off when the poor boy is on the phone with you unbeknownst, but you still have a hard time talking about sex with him. "...because it sounds awful if you did not."

And it is. It is horrible. You'd imagine that after getting caught, feeling so embarrassed and guilty, your cunt wouldn't still be quivering and begging for you to pay attention to it again. But you've taken it so far. Made it discover new incredible sensations of course it'd still be obsessed with it and with the climax the toy teased it with.

You groan in your pillow again. Not sure how he'll interpret it. Not sure how you want him to interpret it. Should you just talk to him? He could hang up too. If really he didn't want to partake in this mess he could hang up, he could talk about anything else.

"Listen, you don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, you know that." That's reaching. You want to tell him that he can't ever say that to someone, he can't ever become anyone's mat to wipe their dirty shoes on. He should be the one feeling awkward, being mad at you, except he reassures you again. "And when you just proceed on getting yourself off while I was talking- worrying about your fucking health..." He snorts before he can finish. "How dare you act coy with me!" He's just laughing too hard now, contributing wholeheartedly to the burning flush on your cheeks. Well, you deserved it.

"Is that it? You're going to bring this up each time you'd want something from me?" You sound so upset, even to your own ears. It results in his laughter dying down pretty quickly.

"I think so, yeah." You don't add anything. You don't want to be rude. Still hope for any kind of magic word you don't even know that he could mutter to you and that'll help cure your heart and soul. Therefore you can't tell him goodbye and hang up. You wait for him to do it. Except he doesn't. It's late as fuck too. He might be working later today. Why isn't he hanging up? "If I'm talking about it, you should know that it's fine. I don't mind." An asshole and a cutie. "You okay, babe?"

The simple hum you tried to aim for turns into half of a whimper half of a moan. You're not okay. Any part of your being won't let you lie and pretend.

"Do you want me to turn it on?" For fuck's sake. "I'll hang up and leave it on so you just- it'll turn itself off when there's no battery left anyway."

"Jungkook." Your stern voice is a threat. It doesn't have to be further explained, he gets it.

"What?" He sounds aggravated. You can imagine him raising his hands to the skies, upset and losing patience as he's only trying to make it better for you and oh women are so complicated. Something like that. "Oh my God. Just get yourself off and feel better after."

"You don't tell me what to do." Childish but there's not much left of your brain. "Well, you don't even fucking know what to do with yourself right now. Am I right or am I right?" He whisper-yells back at you. Very mean.

"Asshole." It's a tiny whisper under your breath but you're certain he hears it even if he completely ignores it.

"Listen, since you can't even- how old are you, seriously?"

"Fuck you." Barely louder. You definitely know he's heard this time, but still, he decides to dismiss it. He's always been more productive than you.

"I'll turn it on and hang up. You take care of yourself like a big girl, alright?" He probably believes that you can't get yourself to ask for what you want aka a wild night with the fucking toy you can't get to work yourself. But it's not actually the case. Honestly. Now all you can think about -besides the whole very humiliating moment when he caught you in the act- is the way it kept torturing you, bringing you very high but never enough. It started to hurt at the end, brought impatient frustrated tears to your eyes. You don't even think you could finish with it.

Maybe it's inappropriate to seriously consider it. Maybe you won't ever learn your lesson.

Before you even get to word your refusal, the thing is on. It's on the same devilish setting as earlier. The merciless wave. Fuck.

"Don't! It's not- it won't even make me cum, stop it!"

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know the setting is weird." You start explaining through the thicker pout to have ever existed. You're really considering having him solve your climax. You've gone crazy.

"What's wrong with it? Tell me, I'll put on one you like."

Fuck.

You are doomed.

What are you supposed to do with a guy like this?

"I don't think there is." You can hear the frustration from his end before he even says a word. It's written in the stars that in a second he's going to bring it all up, the part when you got off and pester that you can't still be complaining about the fucking toy. "No, I mean it's- the one I liked, the last one you clicked on, it's like-" Fuck, you're really doing this. "A wave. You know? It grows crescendo but it always stops right before- right when it's really good. And I just couldn't- because the good part doesn't last long enough and, yeah."

"Wait, let me look." He sounds a bit further away from you then. He's logged back into the app, you can tell. And with his tiny "hm" and his "so...", he sounds the way he does when your computer is being difficult and he's trying to fix it because you won't pay a professional to do it when you have this nerd populating your entourage. "Ah. You want the high moment to last longer?" "Yes." You can picture him nod to himself, frowning his eyebrows and sucking his lips in the way he does when he's super focused.

"Like that?" You wouldn't know because the toy is lost somewhere, you can hear it but not see it. You ask him to wait for a second and it stops altogether. Doesn't make it easier to find it but it wasn't lost that far. Once you have it in your hand, you gulp, ashamed, not sure if you could ever play with this thing again. But the other guy on the phone doesn't seem to have his motivation falters. You're not the one telling him to try again, on his own, he executes.

It's hard to tell in your hand, the vibrating ears hugged tightly in your palm, if it's going to be satisfactory enough. If it's precisely the thing that was missing from earlier. It follows the pattern you asked him though. Still to a growing intense high that lasts for approximately a good ten seconds rather than the lame 2 seconds from earlier.

"I think so..."

"Okay then. You... mute yourself and then- Uh, no. I should mute myself so- or we both mute ourselves?" He's not really with you anymore. Lost in his own head amongst those seemingly very difficult questions. You don't even get where he's trying to get at. Wasn't he supposed to hang up?

"Why would you stay?"

"It's just- it's me doing it. There's no setting for what you want, it's me doing it. I have to draw the frequency on my phone."

"There's an option for that?"

"Yes. There's even one to have it follow audio!" He points out with way too much enthusiasm. He might have really found a new passion.

"Sounds like high tech."

"Yep."

"Sounds expensive as hell."

He laughs in the mic, snorts even before he brushes it off. Quite frankly, no matter what you'd have to say to him, he'd always do as he wishes. If spending ridiculous amounts of money on ridiculous things for ridiculous you is what he wants to do, he won't let anyone, not even you, tell him not to.

You don't know what to say, he's not saying anything either. He suggested something quite insane: he'd stay. While his finger would be drawing shapes on his screen to actively give you your pleasure, he'd stay on the phone with you. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical or ironical, how it sounds crazy to you now while ten minutes ago, you had no problem doing it without him knowing. That's probably the main issue here, him knowing. That changes everything.

"But if you stay-"

"We can't both mute ourselves because I won't hear if you ask me to change something or- so you, you just stay like that and I'll mute myself."

"Jungkook, you muting yourself won't change my awareness of you being here."

"But maybe you'll forget about it?"

"Jungkook."

"What?" He sounds contrite then. Like an upset child who's being argued with. He's trying so hard but you make it so difficult, it seems.

There's just one thing holding you back. Until now you couldn't quite pinpoint it. And it's hard to resolve an issue you can't name.

But it just hit you. His way of insisting while making it seem like he does it for you only, to help you out and doesn't necessarily find his part in the cake.

"Do you want to?"

"Uh?"

"You sound like- I don't know what you sound like. You're confusing. If you're just trying to give me a hand and solely that then hang up and I'll just- whatever."

"Oh."

"Of course, it makes no sense for you to do this for me and stay if you don't want to, I mean." He takes forever to answer. For a second, you even peek at your screen wondering if he didn't simply quit the conversation.

It's really all you need to know. If somehow, to some extent, he wants you or at least, wants to partake in this genuinely. You don't want it if it's just a bro hand. You can hardly live with what you've done if he's utterly uninterested. But if he does want it, even a little bit, you might be wrong but you feel like everything would turn out to be fine.

"It's not that hard of a question." You try again because it almost feels like he's forgotten you from how long he's remained silent. He had put you on the spot, in this very conversation too, so many times, you have the right to do the same to him, at least once. "Do you want to stay?"

He cracks up. It's the very hard kind of laughter. With the boyish chuckles, mixed with the squeaky intakes of air. The one that always brings a smile to your face and usually drags you along the fit.

You have no idea what it means right now. It's probably the least appropriate time for it to show up. Therefore instead of making you smile it only reinforces the headache slowly growing at your temple.

"Aah." He starts by exhaling longly. You can hear the grin fixed on his face. "Yes." Your heart trips in your rib cage. You should have guessed it but you couldn't have imagined this answer. And him laughing to tears like a fucking deranged infant doesn't help. "Shit, sorry." He apologized when the remnant of what sounds definitely like a giggle resonates in through the phone.

"What's so funny, Guk?" Your words don't match your tone. You're high under pressure, unsure of what's actually going on. Jungkook is not cruel, you've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't deliberately hurt you, wouldn't mess with you so bad, for so long, even for a great laugh. Still, you can't be convinced that he's sincere. Seriously, how could you? The dude won't stop fucking laughing.

"Nothing, I'm just- I didn't realize until you asked me the question that I wanted to." Oh. "I'm an idiot."

"Welp." Could have told you sooner but I thought you knew.

"Mean. And, uh," It sounds like he's tossing and turning in bed again. You bet he's just gotten the exact same position as before. He's like those cats that turn around in circles again and again until they settle for the initial spot. When he starts talking again, his voice is hardly a whisper, you assume he's holding the mic very close to his mouth. "I should ask you too. Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it, moron." Patience has run thin. Now that you're reassured you don't have to be ashamed and embarrassed anymore, you can simply be annoyed as you get with him.

Honestly, you're still feeling abashed but he doesn't need to know that.

"Quit being mean. It's not my fault I'm slow." He says, faking deep pity and it does make you snort. "Okay, well..."

"Well, indeed."

"You're making this awkward!" You roll your eyes. Feels like you can sort this out. If you do take out the very blatant, scorching awkwardness, it's a very regular interaction between you. Sounds like any other day except in a second he's going to press a finger to his phone in hopes to make you cum.

"Your whole existence is awkward."

"Shut up. Let's just fucking start." He groans as if you're the one belating the initial step –you are but so is he.

"I don't have the fucking remote." He tells you to shut up again, and this time, when you hear him hum to himself when he's opening the app, there's a recognizable brushing noise falling directly in your ear.

"You put your earbuds on."

He doesn't answer but you're sure he's registered the question.

Fine.

If he doesn't want to give you an answer you'll just make up your own. Don't you put earbuds on to hear better? Just saying.

"Put the thing on."

"Oh my God, Jungkook-" You take back your own admission. He's the one, solely, all alone, making it painfully awkward. Sounding like a newly pubescent teen trying to initiate sex. "Could you be any smoother?"

"But-" He sighs. "Do you want me to?" How do you ask your best friend you've may have been in love with for officially a couple of months to please act like an ideal lover even if it's just very short-termed? He sounds willing. But asking is the most difficult part. "I can be- or do whatever you want, I just don't know-"

"I like it when you call me baby." Your whole face is scrunched up in a perfect picture of your intense embarrassment. Formalities need to get fucking out of the way and it's precisely what you've just tried to do. But holy shit, it's painfully embarrassing.

"Oh. Do you now?"

Here comes the smirk. Can't see it. Can hear it clearly. It's pretty much louder than his words even.

You want to tell him to forget it all. That it's not going to work if each fucking second he makes you feel like he's going to be using whatever you say or whatever you do against you later on. You decide to demonstrate exemplary patience, reminding yourself that he's not cruel. Admittedly.

Perhaps you're the idiot and it's all your fault. Because you've just admitted (without him even asking) that you like (and into these circumstances, that it turns you on) to have him call you baby. Thing that he does already every time he starts coddling you.

"Okay then." He startles you, clearing his throat. You wonder if he's as anxious as you are, or at least, a tiny bit nervous. For the most part, he doesn't seem like it. Then again, he's quite good at pretending.

It shows soon after when he starts again, this time with the gentle, soft voice he hardly ever uses with you. There's a tiny newcomer, a certain edge that gives it some firmness and that enchants you. That's exactly what you wanted him to be. "Put it on, babe."

You nod wordlessly, omitting that he can't see you and do as told. Slipping the toy under the waistband of your panties, guiding the ears aside your clit. There's a very faint buzzing coming from them. You barely feel it and you suppose it's just there to have you accommodate better.

"Are you still dressed?"

"It's just my panties and a big shirt." Your shirt you'd add if you had a bit more courage. You hope he's going to let you keep it.

"Take your panties off." The part of you who's his best friend wants to nag, tell him that maybe he should have asked that before demanding you place the toy on your cunt but you feel generous and merciful, and also desperate and tired of your orgasm being stalled for so long. "Are they soaked from earlier?" Okay, this shit's going to be hard. There's no coming back. Strangely, it's just now that it's really hitting you. Even if it's going well, there is no way, you'll ever forget his velvety smooth whisper saying those words. There's no way you're helpless cunt ever forgets.

They are, by the way. You don't even get how you've been able to keep them on and ignore the uncomfortable stickiness for this long. Just sliding them along your thighs feels disagreeable.

"Y/N." Sounds like you're getting scolded. And even if you particularly like the way he just said your name, with that same peculiar edge from earlier, a little sharper then, how are you supposed to answer that? "What did you say earlier? That it can't only be for you, is that right?"

"Yes." You admit sheepishly because now you're definitely getting scolded. It brings flush on your only newly temperate cheeks and you don't even hate it.

"Then I'll give you everything, I told you I would but I'll need you to give me some back. Can you do that?" He sounds so strict, how can you like it so much? You can literally feel the electricity along your spine, sliding down to go faint in the hot mess between your thighs and that's ridiculous. You hate being talked to that way, usually, probably because it's never him doing it. Jeon Jungkook might be your ultimate kink. And somehow, he figured it all out. That whatever he'd do would fit you perfectly well. Also, he might be turning like that because undeniably, you're a brat. "Can you?" He insists again because whilst you've been busy trying not to hyperventilate, he's been waiting for one answer.

"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's fine." You should want to bite him. Why insist so much if it's to end up leaving you off the hook so easily? You know though, for a fact, awfully bothersome to your ego, that if he were in front of you presently, you'd give him puppy eyes and batting lashes, sad pouty lips and probably tend your neck to invite him to gently pat your hair. "Tell me, are your panties soaked?" "I think I ruined them..."

"You did, didn't you?" He's laughing a bit, kind of full of himself for some reasons. Maybe he knows that it's mainly his fault they ended up this way. Maybe he knows they are not the only pair fallen victim to simply the thought of him. "Was it worth it?"

"You're taking care of me so I'd say yes." A chortle. A purr that you interpret into something you like a lot. It sounds like he's taken your response for exactly what you wished him to. A tease. He makes your belly churns and twists, turns your nerves from your heart to your noggins haywire. The least he can allow you to do, the least you'd like to do, is for him to be affected by you.

It starts with a gentle buzzing. It's nothing much. Nothing at all, you'd say if you'd let your greediness and impatience talk. There's something else doing it for you, for now. Jungkook's breath, sort of heavy, slow, rocking you with warmth. Knowing he's here and here to please you; you're laid in bed, naked from the waist down, wet and about to make it all better thanks to him; the picture itself makes it all for you.

"How is it?" Jungkook asks after some time. It's been silent. You haven't said much, in fact, you haven't said anything yet. Not that ready to demand more, and not feeling enough for moans or whimpers or whatever to be stolen from you.

"Boring." You admit. "S'not what you were supposed to give me." Through a thick pout, you deplore.

It doesn't work. He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care when he's playing exactly the role you've implicitly asked him to play. "Have you said please, even once?" You hate that he's virtually pinning you down with exactly what turns you on.

"I- Probably." You haven't said much. You haven't been so explicit, so telling simply because you couldn't, but surely, you said please. Didn't you?

"Not probably. You did not. And on top of that, you're complaining." He's figured out exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, as naturally as it came for him, you fit it your own role easily.

"I'm not complaining. I was just- pointing it out. Sorry."

"You can apologize a lot but you can't even say please. Not once." Well, fuck. You never thought that he could be mean. Awfully mean. You wished, when you let your mind wander there one too many time, a bit too deep, that he'd be like that. Sweet and soft and tender the way he is, always, but also, bad, kind of harsh. "Ask kindly, once."

"Jungkook-"

"I'll give you everything you want. Just once."

"Please, Jungkook." You know he's satisfied with what you offer him because you don't have to wait another second for him to give you precisely what you were waiting for. It's timid, follows the crescendo built you were looking for except it's not intense. It's the first step however it's incredibly effective. It feels as good as the first time. "Plea-please." Manifestly, it is the secret word, the passcode to your pleasure because the intensity you're craving for finally reaches you. It does in an electrifying peak, that lasts long, just like you asked, it's so good, the feeling so perfectly indulgent to your needs, maybe even too much, you squirm, part the little ears from your clit, hissing. "Shit, Jungkook!"

"Too much, baby?" The hypocrite, with his concerned tone, doesn't even take a break from activating the vibration, from keeping on building the intensiveness. You can tell it's he too, him really doing it live, as in it's not absolutely regular, the built sometimes takes longer, sometimes the volume stronger, other times weaker. It's undeniable, every minute of it feels different from the next, you can't even omit for a second that it's him doing it. And he's doing it so well.

"Per- fect, just- sensitive." You moan out. Back arching, right leg twitching. The next brush is particularly nice, goes so far you believe you might come on the spot. Now you definitely can't hold back even if you wanted to. The sounds that come out of your mouth, foreign to your own ears, are not even yours. They come straight from your body, straight from an excess of pleasure you try to deal with, to handle, when you clearly can't. You're alone, and it's you ultimately controlling the power on your own body, you can pull out, even slightly, every time it comes hard and strong and you ought to twitch uncomfortably. You wonder how it'd be if he were here with you. If he forgot just for a while that you were his best friend, the girl who used to be older and taller and has turned, with the years, into this tiny little thing because he just kept on growing and growing, sprouting like a fucking redwood, and now feels like he needs to protect and care for you. If he were there, and he could forget that, you bet, his present voice, heated, scorching, is telling you this, that probably, he'd hold you down, crush your body with his, hand pressing your thighs down and apart, and force you to take the pleasure in its entirety. You imagine him merciless, slipping sweet words in your ear, while he'd have you literally scream from overstimulation.

And then his voice, the perfectly alluring thing, concludes to let you know it won't happen like that. His voice will make you come.

"You sound so good." Especially, if he keeps saying shit like that, with this tone, soft yet strong and highly, terribly affected. He's breathing hot and heavy in your ears. Is he touching himself?

"Please, Jungkook." You implore, vainly, hips slowly grinding against the toy, pressed by your palm on your sensitive centre.

"Especially begging, 'sound so, so good." He's not touching himself. He sounds bothered, but not enough, he doesn't stutter like you do, his voice doesn't jump and dip, stops momentarily like yours does. Shit, you wished he would play with his cock. Fuck, you want to play with his cock. So fucking bad.

"Y-you like it?" You ask, not because you're curious to know, he's said it already, but because you won't ever get tired of hearing him say it, in all those different ways.

"I do, baby. I love hearing you." You can't help the curse that leaves your lips a bit harsh. You're so close. So so close. Eyes filled up to the brim, tip of your nose wet. How many times have you thought, already, that you were seriously going to fall over? "You gonna cum?"

"I can't-" You sob, whine. There's a tear spilling from your right eye. "It's too much." So attentive to your every word, the intensity drops drastically. It still buzzes, discreet, way more tolerable. Ironically, if you can now bear it, you know it's not enough to lead you to your climax either. "Help me, make me cum, Guk."

"Use your fingers." He's been nice, essentially, you can only be good to him. Without even having to think about it, you dip your fingers in the mess that is your cunt. Two fingers slip in between your lips too easily, you could add a third if only there wasn't the bunny taking a bit too much room, and your fingers were longer, and your hips not so twitchy. If Jungkook was here, if only he was here, he'd fit his two fingers and it'd be enough. You bet it'd be enough. You bet his pretty, long, tattooed fingers would stretch you so well and make you come in a heartbeat. "Fuck yourself with them."

It's so gratifying. Having him humming in your ear encouragements and compliments. He's sweet, sweet, sweet. Excellent with his voice. Fuck, he must be unreal with his fingers, with his mouth, with his fat cock.

Diligently, you drag your fingers in and out, it's only mildly agreeable when you're sopping wet, almost gaping. Until he draws on his phone the same magnificent pattern from before.

You wish it'd last longer. It's precisely what you needed, the ideal combination. Along with his words.

You know if you come he'd have to stop. He'll stop calling you baby, stop saying how sexy you are, use all those nasty words he never does and talking like that, with this voice, with this heat in his tone. It's a bothering thought at the back of your mind you have to actively push away.

There's nothing you can do when harshly, yet with a please, he demands you to cum.

You can feel your cunt, wide open from both your spread legs and the excitation, getting wet, growing soaked. You can actually feel it as it happens before you explode. Clenching violently around your fingers, spilling all over them, you might squeak and scream and moan his name continuously, you barely hear yourself through your ringing ears.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." You sigh. Laying there, boneless, hand dripping up to your wrist. He's chuckling. "Fuck."

"Feeling better?" You hmm in response. Words sound like too much effort right now. Your brain is working slow. Extremely slowly. There's a multitude of thoughts forming though, germinating from a strange ground.

One, in particular, does, enlarging ridiculously much next to the others. You could enjoy this luck. You could just bathe in the lovely, perfect haze. Accept that the sky is perfectly blue without a cloud, with even a rainbow somewhere. Maybe a double rainbow even.

There's a very, very dark, very, very large cloud invading your perfect sky though. And because tears, of another kind, have already located your eyes, the new ones fit in, mixing up with them and taking over them with utter ease. What the fuck have you done?

"Jungkook, I'm so sorry-" You start with a tremble in the voice. There's a fat lump in your throat.

"Why? What's going on, baby?" He's sweet as honey, back to his usual self, worried, and you're horrible.

"Your- I didn't even think about her and-" There's a sob bubbling out of your mouth. "It's not me. I didn't mean to-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Jiyeun." The taste in your mouth when you say her name, is unbearable. You know full fucking well you shouldn't say her name. You shouldn't be allowed to. How dare you. Spoil it when you spent way too long virtually getting in this guy's, who's someone else's boyfriend, pants.

"Dumbass." It makes you choke on your own sobs. "It's over. With her, I mean. We broke up." Ah. You want to ask a billion questions. Starting with "again?". Soon followed up by a "why didn't you say anything, dickhead?". You spent the whole fucking night, getting shit faced and spiritually crying in the club over a couple that does not even exist anymore. Then you'd ask for how long they are planning to be over. "For good, this time." You're barely drying up your fat crocodile tears when he calls you an idiot again, says something about how he's not that kind of guy and you should know it.

Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.

Alcohol and horniness and hardcore loving are such a terrible combo you need to avoid.

"Cuddles." Tiredly, half-dead, but still alive enough to be greedy, to feel sensible, skinned and want him to give you more. "Come cuddle." He's late to answer, delays it as if you don't desperately need his response.

It's terribly quiet and still. The dark of the night seems even more sombre. He can fix everything if only he'd give you the answer you desire.

"You sure?"

"Always." You say, maybe too honest. He doesn't seem to mind, agrees with a snort.

"Alright."

He appears in front of you in the blink of an eye. Literally. That blink does last longer than usual. The orgasm may have crushed you. You close your eyes and when you open them back up, he's here. Standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, dressed in all black and oversized, as usual. You look up, eyes squinted, bothered by the light coming from the hallway. He's staring. Gaze brushing, from your head to your toes, seemingly slowing down when they reach your naked thighs.

"What?" You mumble, embarrassed, one hand sliding down just to make sure the hem of the shirt is covering your crotch. You didn't even put your panties back on. You may or may not have wiped yourself clean enough with the wet wipes wisely sitting on your bedside table -you thought about it really hard but you can’t remember if you actually did it.

"You never mentioned it was my t-shirt you were wearing." You shrug. You'd have a better come back if you weren't so tired and if it wasn't simply true. "Would have been nice to know." He says, kneeling down next to your bed. The latter is low, mattress barely raised from the ground and even when he's crouching down, he's hovering above you, looking down on you. "Easier to picture." He adds quieter the closest he comes to you. It's enough words to know who he is at the moment. In what form, what version of your Jeon Jungkook, has come to visit. It's the gentle one. The one whose voice doesn't raise, doesn't feel as animated as his usual one when he spends his time being a clown to make everyone laughs. The one that made you fall, the first time. Not exactly the one you had on the phone with you earlier and even if you like him, if you adore him in fact, you feel sort of uneasy, worried. He might be gone forever, this one.

Unless it is him. His hands reach forward, large and warm, they lie on your thighs. The fingers brush up a bit, to the hem of his shirt, and they stop there. He looks up from them, straight in your eyes, smiles, digs the tips in the meat of your thighs before he lifts you up, aiming for the border of your bed.

God. You hope it'll happen again. But differently. More in-depth. He'd be less dressed, he would manhandle you, before he'd do some unnamable things to you. But another day. One when you're not almost dead. When you feel hornier and less soft and desperate for direct comfort to your swollen heart. It could be tomorrow when you wake up. If he's up for it. Please God, make it so he's up for it.

Jungkook hops on the bed behind you, huffs comfortably, holding your cover by a corner to bring it up and over the two of you. He fits behind you too naturally for it to be the first time. He doesn't seem to mind that you're so underdressed, compared to the other times, that you still have some remnant of your orgasm on you, that it's different. His arm sliding around you, holding a bit too tight, pressing you a tiny bit too hard, you're still hot from earlier. It's perfect though. You don't want him to move an inch and you hope, the hand that's wrapped on his forearm, makes him understand.

"M'not too clingy?" His own cheek pressed hard to your own, he asks, which is weird. How could he still wonder? He's never ever been too clingy. Even when you were kids and he followed you around before even asking if he could, he wasn't too clingy. The closest, the better. You deny with a uh-uh. He calls out for your name when you're fighting to keep your eyelids open. It's the most comfortable, the warmest you've ever felt. Like a cocoon of pure love and adoration. On top of it, there's his hard arms around you, his hard thigh pushing against yours, his crotch -with the feel of his member, slightly stiff- glued to your butt, and his chest, as hard as the rest, holding your back up like a strong wall. "I promise I didn't plan the whole toys thingy for that."

"For what?" Sleepily, you wonder, actually confused from exhaustion. To cuddle with you? Like you haven't in so, so long. Why would he try to apologize for it? "To use them with you."

"What a shame." You don't think he can understand. Diction is not something you care for at the moment. The hard laugh bubbling in his chest, rumbling, shaking your whole, lets you know he did, in fact, get it.

"You're so-" He starts but the thought dies way too soon for you to even try and complete it yourself. "I'll have a billion questions for you tomorrow."

"No." You whine. Because he's fucking up everything. If he believes you'll say it all to him, there's no way you can. There's no way you will. He chuckles.

Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.

"Yes. And you'll answer every single one of them." He gives a sweet but pressing kiss to your neck.

"No."

"I adore you." Fucking hell. "I broke up with Jiyeun because I adore you too much. I realized I want to spend all my time and energy on my best friend." You don't even know what he means. You can't even hold your eyelids open now, you can't even keep your hand on his arm, it being too heavy and sleep having taken over most of your body.

You bet he's saying that just because he's guessed it. He's figured you all out and the asshole doesn't mind playing with your soft heart. He knows he'll get anything from you if he's this good. Hopefully, tomorrow, he'll have forgotten about his little interrogation because you're not sure you'll be able to lie. For now, he's holding you way too close for you to care. Whatever. May it last forever, this feeling.

A/N: DON’T HATE ME OKAY?! i know i have an issue with angst and endings, for some reasons, i don’t want to hurt my characters but i can’t get myself to write an actual fully happy, non-ambiguous conclusion, and i’m really sorry for it lmao.

i sincerely hope you enjoyed the last part of The Wishlist! Thank you immensely for anyone who’s followed along, please let me know your thoughts, i really really want to know :)

for now, i’m sending you lots of love and kisses, take good care of yourself and others, see ya very very soon :]

tag list: @safi4x​ @kai-kai-bookshelf​ @somewhereinthestarss​ @hsinmyheart​ @moonchild1​ @monvieesdaebak @pasteljoonie​ @fangirls94​ @jinsalpaca​ @ggukkieland​

[jgoose13]

chenford + "I’m sick and tired of being called 'mortal' like, you don’t know that. Neither do I. I have never died even ONCE. Nothing has been proven yet. Stop making assumptions. It’s rude."

Send me a ship + a sentence and I’ll write the next 5 [or more] sentences.

@lucyychens

Tim blinks, suddenly wishing he hadn't decided to drop in on Lucy just now.

He immediately knows she had a bad day, judging by the way she listed side to side on her sofa, the neck of a bottle of red wine clutched in her fist. Also, he'd been checking on her sporadically through out the day, as he always did.

"Um..." Tim glances over his shoulder, as though there would be another immortal being standing there.

"Yeah, m'talkin' to you," Lucy whisper-shouts, words slightly slurred. Her eyes were glassy, clearly drunk off the bottom shelf red wine she seemed to love.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tim asks warily, his hands sliding into the pockets of his tailored suit trousers. He isn't sure what he should do. He has never seen Lucy like this.

"M'just sayin'... I could be a secret immortal, y'know? Like, you've never seen me dead so it's entirely possible."

Tim swallows, feeling his throat constrict around a choked off breath. Where was this coming from? Lucy? Dead? Dying? Fuck no, this drunken tirade isn't funny one bit.

In a snap, he's on the couch next to her, crowding Lucy up against the arm behind her. The shock in her eyes and on her face might have been funny any other time, clearly not expecting him to move so fast, and experiencing that speed whilst drunk.

"Lucy, where the fuck is this coming from?" Tim knows he must look menacing, but he can't find it in himself to care. He snatches the wine bottle from her hand and sets it on the coffee table before returning to her, clutching her head between his large palms. He forces her dazed eyes to look at him, to see him.

"Tim... you're scaring me a little..." Lucy whispers, and he can see that adrenaline and slight fear burning away the alcohol, sobering her up. Good. She needed to be alert to hear this.

"Do not ever refer to you and your death in the same sentence ever again," he growls, fisting one hand in her long, soft, dark tresses.

"Tim..." Lucy says softly again, and she looks less afraid this time. Tim wonders what she is seeing in his eyes, what is written all over his face. He can see some sort of realization being reached in those fathomless, dark depths of her eyes. "... one day, I'm going to die. Nothing is going to stop it. Not even you."

He is trying so very hard to reign in the foreign emotion raging inside of him. His arms are tense, straining. There's something... something he feels in the middle of his chest. It burns. And the fact that he doesn't know what it is only makes the sensation worse.

"Don't..." He stops himself, unclenches his teeth. "Don't say that."

Deep down, he knows what Lucy is saying is true. But it doesn't mean he has to acknowledge it. Not one bit.

Lucy's hands gingerly curl around his wrists, holding fast to him. He's annoyed because that same spark of knowing is still there in her eyes, but he doesn't know, and it chaps his ass that he doesn't know what she does.

"Tim..."

"I can't... I can't think about it, Lucy," Tim lets out a defeated sigh. "I see it every single fucking night. Every night I'm not with you. It's there. You. Dead. Demons shouldn't be able to dream. I shouldn't be able to dream. Yet I do. And it's always horror and bloodshed. And you. Covered in blood, still as stone. There is nothing in your eyes. Not that spark of life that I lo--" Time immediately cuts himself off, nearly making that mistake. Demons can't feel that. He doesn't even know the meaning of the word. "Nothing. You're gone." And it's my fault.

Lucy manages to pry off the hand clutched in her hair. She directs his palm towards her lips, pressing a kiss to the skin. The action soothes him. Only a little. But that foreign sensation burning in his chest doesn't dissipate, it merely dims.

"Okay," she whispers again. "No more talking about my death. Promise."

Tim heaves the biggest breath, and collapses forward, burying his face in Lucy's neck. She adjusts her body, widening her legs so that he could fit into the cradle of her thighs. His arms go around her waist, clutching her tightly, and Lucy's fingers brush through the longer hair on top of his head, and down into the shorter hair.

"It's okay, Tim. Everything's okay," Lucy murmurs against his hair, before dropping a kiss to the crown of his head.

But you can't promise that, Tim thinks. I can't even promise that.

[dioko]

NOT JUST ANYONE.

izuku midoriya x gn! reader

Word Count -> ~ 1810

Genre -> oneshot, fluff 

Content -> mildly suggestive (spice rating is 1.5/5), drunk reader, swearing, college au! characters, older reader and younger deku | please lemme know if i missed anything!

Summary -> You really did believe a certain Izuku Midoriya had his nose buried in his textbooks 24/7. Your first impression of him had led you to pin him as a downright nerd - boring and young and nowhere near your type. 

a/n -> 1. idk about the cover page i jus thought deku looked cool there and the oneshot title is eh 2. this was in my drafts for a long, LONG time and today i finally got it to the point where i didn't hate it. enjoyy <333

Once, you really did believe a certain Izuku Midoriya had his nose buried in his textbooks 24/7. Your first impression of him had led you to pin him down as a nerd - boring, and young and nowhere near your type. 

Boy, were you wrong.

The first time you’d met him, he’d smiled at you with such bright, green eyes, it was almost impossible not to smile back.

“Hello, l/n y/n, s’nice to finally meet you! I’m Midoriya Izuku!” He'd very obviously sunken his voice an octave lower, and whether that was on purpose or not, it was still cute. Still innocent, still pure. 

Not attractive, whatsoever.

“Yeah,” you'd turned your attention back to your work,“it’s nice to meet you too.”

After that, your ever-so-impatient brother had rushed him into his room, and Midoriya had obliged - not before shooting you one last glance. In hindsight, there might’ve been something just a teeny bit darker that had resided in Midoriya's lively eyes. 

Then, weeks passed. 

Was it just you, or did college students grow really, really fast?

As he left your brother's work room for the millionth time that month, you found yourself noticing how different he looked compared to when you’d first met him. Now, when Izuku waved a (large, my god) hand at you, he looked taller, broader… older. 

“See you," he chirped to his friend, bringing you back to the reality where he was most definitely not older than you. 

Wake up, you're practically a senior citizen, you’d chided yourself, there’s no way he’s mature enough for you. Then, another side of you, presumably the devil that sat on your shoulder, tried to argue. You’re not much older, it said, he’s practically the same age as you.

“Oh wait- there was something I had to ask you, l/n-”

“S’fine, you can call me y/n, ‘Zuku.” you didn’t intend to call him something so intimate, the words just.... absent-mindedly slipped out your mouth. 

Oopsies daisies!

“Oh! I - I can? Um… ah,” you watched, mildly entertained by the way he tripped up his words, all from a nickname, “we’re all going out tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come-”

“Who’s we?” 

“Er- me, and… and your brother! And a few others!”

“Oh?” You couldn’t let yourself smile, not yet. 

“It’ll be fun!” He sputtered, “a lot of um, a lot of… um, drinking?” It sounded more like a question than a persuasive statement. 

You blinked. “Yeah sure, that sound’s good. I didn’t take you for someone who drank.”

“I don’t?”

“Then why are you going?”

“I thought it would be a good way to spend time with y- my friends.”

“Ah, your friends.”

“Yup,” he squeaked.

“Okay then!” You smacked him playfully on his arm - his large, extremely toned, t-shirt-stretching arm - and jolted him out of his fear, “I’ll see you then, ‘Zuku!”

>>

Izuku Midoriya had a surprising number of friends. 

He had, in a gentlemanly fashion, offered to walk with you to the bar (though your brother was there too) and when you stepped in, you were taken aback by the several people at your table. 

Your guts told you to sit beside the angry one - he looked… fun. 

“Who the fuck is this?” The blond talked like you weren’t there.

“Kacchan,” another blond - with a black streak in his hair - chided, “be nice to the pretty birdie!” Was he drunk already?

“Yeah, Kacchan,” you smirked, “respect your elders.”

The first blond just about exploded on the spot. 

“Watch your mouth,” he seethed at you.

“Hot,” you muttered, unaware of evergreen eyes that couldn’t seem to peel themselves off your lips; your soft, pink, kissable lips. 

“What the fuck?” Kacchan flinched back.

“Sorry,” you grinned, “I meant ‘little snot’.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you little sn-”

>>

Four flirtatious advances from three of Izuku’s friends, two hours and 1 mental breakdown later, you were finally ready to go home - everyone was, really - but where was your brother?”

“Deku,” he’d hissed at the greenette, “I’m not going back to the apartment today, can you take-” he gestured towards you, slumped over a pile of food, “- that thing back to the apartment?”

Izuku opened his mouth, about to ask why he couldn’t but immediately shut up again when he realized it was more time he had to spend with you. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Don’t try anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna!” Awkwardly, Izuku scooched his way past Sero and Uraraka, trying to find a place to put his hands so he could lift you off the table. Luckily, he didn’t have to. 

“Ah, ‘Zuku!” You gave him a cheeky grin, “you’re friends are so…” you watched Bakugou, “... cute. Have a drink!” It was almost laughable how quickly you changed from topic to topic. Almost. The only non-laughable part was that Bakugou seemed to be a recurring theme. 

Izuku pursed his lips, “no, you’re drunk. One of us has to be clear-minded enough to take you home.”

“You’re so smart! Good boy,” you ruffled his hair with a sticky hand, and your rapid strokes fell to a halt when you realized how soft his green hair was. “Wow,” you whispered, “I love your hair. Lemme smell it-”

“NO, no. We’re going home.”

“We?” A smirk played on your lips. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you frowned when he didn’t stutter - he didn’t even go red. Izuku’s entire demeanor had changed; there was no nervous little college guy right now trying to talk to you, there was a friend (haha) genuinely trying to get you home safely. “Now c’mon, can you walk?”

You stood up and skipped a few steps. “Yup.”

>>

“So, Izuku,” you didn’t bother to hide the fact that you were (very greedily) squeezing his biceps, “gotta girlfriend?”

“N-no.”

“... a boyfriend?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’, and pulled you onto the wall-side of the sidewalk when a car drove by. 

“Any significant other...ss?” You added the plural, just in case. 

“No,” he smiled slyly at you, “why? Are you interested?”

You’d known him for months, but this was the first time he’d said something so forward, enough to make your cheeks flare so hot they felt cold. 

“No way,” you spoke like it was obvious, and then quickly checked to make sure he didn’t look hurt. “Hey! Why do you look so amused?”

“M’not,” he turned his head, so you couldn’t see the smile. 

“You are. Why?”

“Ah, I can’t say. We’re here,” he punched in the apartment code. “You should get ready for bed.”

There was a small, comfortable pause before drunk-you decided to ignore his advice and speak again. “So, do ya like anyone?”

“I like a lot of people,” Izuku smirked. 

Smirked.

“N-no,” you played with the hem of your sweater, “I meant, do you like-like anyone?”

“Hm,” he thought for a second, “that’s a secret.”

“C’mon ‘Zuku! You can trust me!”

“I know that - gimme your coat,” he set it onto a nearby couch and began to flick on random lights, “I still can’t say it, though.”

“Why not?”

“Y/n,” you froze. He’d called you by your first name before, why did it feel so weird now? 

“Yes?”

“I’m taking you to your bedroom.”

“You… you are?”

“You’ve got to sleep.” 

Oh. Boringggg. 

“I don’t wanna,” you hissed, flopping onto your bed anyways. He took a seat at the foot of it. 

“Do you… do you ever remember anything once you're sober again?”

“Nope!” You knew you should’ve lied, but you didn’t, “m’friends say I don’t remember a single thing the next morning.”

He chuckled a little bit, almost in disbelief at you. “That’s not something you can just tell anyone.”

“I know, but you’re not just ‘anyone’.”

“I feel like I’m talking to a child.”

“I’m older than you.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “it’s kinda hot.”

“What?” Did you mishear? “How do you know what hot means?”

“Y/n! I’m not that young!” He laughed, “sheesh, that hurts.”

“Hurts?”

“Yeah,” he smiled coolly. After all, you weren’t going to remember this conversation. 

“”Why does it hurt?”

“... No reason, don’t worry,” he laughs again, for the third time in a row, but it feels dry to you, and empty, too.

“So who do you like?” You chirped again, completely disregarding his ‘I’m pretty sure I just got brother-zoned’ ideology. 

“I told you, that’s a secret…” then, he bit his lip, “... but you won’t remember anyways, right?”

“Yep!”

“Then... I like you.”

“Who?” You smiled. 

“You.”

“Oh, I like you, too.”

“I like-like you.”

“I like-like you, too.”

“You’re drunk,” he smiled sadly, “sleep.”

“I want fruit.”

“Now? You want me to go get you fruit?”

“Please?”

You inhaled the bucket of raspberries, “anyways, I really do like you. You’re so small and cute.”

“I’m small?”

“No, you’re built like a tank,” you giggled. Sober-you would have called drunk-you an airhead, “I think you’re sexy as hell.”

“Yeah?” 

You leaned closer to him. You were sure he could smell alcohol and sugar on your breath, but you didn’t care. “Yeah.”

“Then can I tell you something else?”

“Sure!”

“Kacchan annoys me so much,” he wiped off the juice that dribbled down your chin with his thumb, and you made the mistake of leaning into his touch, “especially when he flirts with you.”

“When’s he ever flirted with me?”

“Tonight,” Izuku pulled back, and you (embarrassingly) fell forward. “I didn’t like it.”

“Were you jealous?”

“Yes,” he admitted, and quite shamelessly - but only because you weren’t sober. 

“Aw, don’t be jealous,” you cooed at him, and then randomly, “you remind me of bunnies!” 

“That’s cute,” his voice was hoarse, “then, can you promise me something, bunny?”

You flushed hot. “That - that’s not what I meant, I meant you’re my bunny.”

“Sure,” he nodded along.

You shuffled yourself a little closer to him. This wasn’t the Midoriya Izuku you’d come to know, who was he? Why was he so different from the twitchy student who cared so much about his grades?

“What did you want me to promise?” It was a good idea to change the topic, you thought, for his sake, not your own. Definitely. 

“Promise me you won’t let Kacchan get so close to you anymore,” he played with your fingers, “you can do that, right? You... can be a good bunny for me?”

“Mhm,” you couldn't refuse when he put it like that.

“Go to bed now, it’s late.”

“On one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“Kiss me.”

Izuku paused. His eyes were on your lips, that was for sure, but he showed no sign of moving closer. “M’not gonna do that when you're drunk.”

You frowned. 

“I’ll sit with you ‘till you're asleep. I’m not… touching you, though.”

“Manly,” you murmured.

“Human decency,” he corrected. 

The greenette pulled your covers above your waist and moved to the desk chair in your room, “good night, y/n.”

It was a shame this would all be forgotten, and the two of you would be back to square one by morning.

a/n -> yes the nickname has everything to do with my URL and so what 

[cuddlesslut]

Part Six: Promises

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader

A/N: Soooo at long last the reunion! So many emotions! I’m so stuck on who to root for!

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, slightly suggestive content

Part Five: Friends

Part Seven: Regrets

You eyes opened to the sun peering through the curtain shining straight right into your face. You moved your hands to block the sun easeing the strain it caused on your eyes. You were groggy, and you back felt stiff. This definitely wasn’t your bed. You surveyed the area finally remembering, that’s right I’m at Suna’s house. You let out a yawn wiping the sleep from your eyes. That when you felt him move next to you. Yesterday the boys had come back from their loss at nationals. While they made the trip back you spent the whole day getting everything ready for your boyfriend’s return. You wanted to make him feel better so you went to the market that morning and spent your day making homemade sashimi with Fatty Tuna and some Onigiri with the left overs for you ,Tsumu and his twin. Although when he finally arrived home and saw you sitting on his door step he wasn’t very receptive.

“Hey there baby,” you gave him a quiet smile, you know he can’t be feeling to hot right now. You ignored the hurt you felt when he rolled his eyes at you.

“What are you doing here YN?” He sighed there was a slight annoyance to his tone. Again you brushed it to the side.

“I wanted to come be here for you, oh and I brought some food for you and Samu,” you presented the bag containing all of the goodies you had made for them.

Osamu’s eyes lit up at the word food quickly grabbing the bag out your hands “ohhh hell yeah I’m starving, mmmh thanks YN,” he said trying to stuff an Onigiri in his mouth before entering the Miya household. You laughed at his antics before turning your attention back to your boyfriend.

Atsumu stood there in front of you with a look of exhaustion etched on his face. “I was thinking maybe we could spend the evening together, maybe watch a movie, or just cuddle or really whatever you want,” you explained not sure what would be the best in this situation you weren’t used to having to comfort him after a loss.

He frowned “what I want is to be left alone I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now.”

You scoffed “ deal with me!” You questioned back suprised by his attitude.

“Yeah YN I really dont feel like putting up with your clinginess right now it’s annoying,” he huffed.

Your jaw dropped he had never spoke to you that way before. “Wow Okay Atsumu, I knew you were gunna be upset but that doesn’t mean you get to be a dick to me! Enjoy the food I’m going to leave it’s obvious I’m not wanted here,” you stated not standing to be talked like that.

You didn’t stick around to hear his response, you both needed to calm down at this point. You made your way down the street still fuming and ranting in your head “how dare he!” You thought! Ughhh you needed to calm down. You already knew the destination you were heading for. You had planned to save some of the snacks you had made and bring some home to Suna on your way home tonight. But now all the food was with Atsumu. You could feel your stomach growl. You let out a frustrated sigh stuspid Tsumu that was you meal too. You decide to stop at convenience store loading up on all of yours and the middle blockers favorite snacks.

And that’s how you ended up where you are now. Laying down on his couch covered in his comforter with your best friends face snuggled up into your stomach. You giggled he looked adorable. Part of you really wanted snap a photo for proof. Suna was never the most affectionate when it came to anyone really, so to see him holding your waist close was so sweet. He looked so peaceful. You were so thankful for him. When you showed up at his door yesterday you were supposed to cheer him up but it seems it was more likely the other way around. Lost in thought you start running your fingers through his hair as he laid sleeping on your abdomen. He was always there for you and always put your feeling into account with anything you did together. He paid attention to the little details ,like how he had remembered yesterday that milk bread was your favorite, but he did that all the time always so analytical with everything. So you don’t think to much of it. It’s hard to stop yourself and if anyone EVER asked you , you would lie. But for a moment you imagined what it would be like if you were dating the withdrawn boy. You were quick to dismiss that idea though. It was wrong you love Atsumu you knew that and plus he was you best friend. Hell he was one of your boyfriends closest friends. Your smile dropped a little thinking about the setter. That’s right your boyfriend, that is if that what he still was. You weren’t mad anymore a little hurt yes but all the anger had disapatted. You understood he wasn’t in the best place and you weren’t going to let one fight break you up. But you couldn’t speak for him. Were you really that clingy? Did you annoy him that much? Did he still want to be with you? These intrusive thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of your phone. Huh speak of the devil.

Tsumu 💕 : hey babe.

Tsumu 💕: I know ur probably pissed u should be.

Tsumu 💕 : I’m so so sorry for being an ass yesterday. I was just so mad at myself for not doing enough at the match, but that doesn’t matter it was no excuse for how I treated you. I get it if you don’t want to deal with me anymore but I just want you to know you're not annoying I didn’t mean any of the shit I said I was just angry and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I promise it’ll never happen again please give me another chance I love you YN 🥺💕

You let out a sigh of relief. Looking back down at the boy laying next to you. He really was quite handsome, and so caring. He's going to make someone so happy one day.

You’re not sure what brought that memory into your head at this moment but you push it to the side as Suna approached you. He looked like a man on a mission weaving threw the bar patrons. It was like if he didn’t reach you in time you’d disappear. You found your heart beating faster as we neared you. Soon enough he was standing in front of you with a look of disbelief etched on his normally stoic face.

You were nervous what should you say. What if he’s angry with you. You didn’t get much time to worry because as soon as the middle blocker confirmed you weren't a figment of his imagination he pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapping around you securely. You quickly melt into his embrace a sense of familiarity swarming over you.

“Where the hell have you been dumbass,” he choked out before quickly pulling his emotions back in. You laughed into his chest at his nickname for you.

“Sorry Suna I just had to leave I couldn’t be around him anymore,” you choked out. You removed yourself from his grasp moving back to your seat at the bar. You motioned for him to join you. You took a large gulp needing to calm your nerves.

“Look don’t apologize, you were going through a lot , hell I don’t know how I would react if I found out the person I loved was cheating on me for two years, I might committed murder,” he lets out a nervous laugh. Your brain freezes two years.... two years your mind just keeps repeating like it just can’t possibly process that information. You face drops, you turn to the bartender “ another shot of tequila please, uh make that a double,” lord knows you need it.

Suna looks at you eyes wide you had never been much of a drinker before ,at least not hard liquor, the most you ever drank were a glass or two of wine. So to see you finish off your mixed drink then proceed to down a double shot of tequila was a sight.

Your mind was swimming. As you paid out the bartender leaving a nice tip for the speedy service your mind ran in circles around the new information. You knew he had cheated on you for the eight months with Yuki and part of you figured it wasn’t the first time but TWO DAMN YEARS! You want to scream and break something like he couldn’t betray you anymore then Suna has to go tell you it was for hell of a lot longer than you had figured. You froze you brain caught on to one detail. Suna knew it was for two years and you didn’t. Did he know the whole damn time! Your brain couldn’t think rationally. You need to get out of here. It was to much the music was too loud, the place was to crowded, you felt like you couldn’t breath. You gave him a look of disgust before turning and walking away ready to leave this place.

Suna was shocked all of the sudden you looked at him your face full of pain. Before he could realize what was happening you were slipping through the crowd. Oh no he panics he just found you he couldn't let you slip away that easy. He wanted to know why you dropped him. He needed to know if he meant that little to you. So he started running after you calling your name. Luck was on his side tonight. Although you had been able to make it out the club and partially down the block he was able to catch you.

“YN wait , where are you going,” he asked desperately reaching for your wrist to stop you. You snatched your arm away from him angry.

“I’m going home Suna leave me alone,” you shout over you shoulder heading towards your apartment luckily it wasn’t too far. Although you could feel the alcohol start to settle in you knew you could still navigate your way home.

“ stop YN talk to me,” you ignored him and kept walking he let out a groan of frustration and started following you. It not like he had just downed two shots but he had plenty of drinks before he had found you. He was not expecting to have to go for a walk.

You look over your shoulder noticing he was following you. “Ughh leave me alone Suna,” you yell back to him, “stop following me!”

“Too bad I am walking with you till get home, I just watched you put back a lot of alcohol I know you can’t be sober so there is no way I’m letting you go by yourself! I’m walking with you I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” You sighed knowing there was no changing his mind. You looked forward continuing your trek home.

After that last outburst the rest of the walk was silent. Your mind was clouded. You wanted to cry so badly how could Suna act like he cared about you if he helped hide Atsumus betrayal from you. Maybe you were right maybe the friendship was a lie, maybe the connection was one sided. You could feel a swell of emotions in your chest. You denied it for long but you missed Suna. You missed your late night calls, you missed getting coffee , you missed forcing him to watch the newest episode of whatever anime you were watching, you missed hearing all about his games and being one of his number one fans, you missed sending memes, but most of all you missed how much he always seemed to be there when you needed him. But what if that was all just an act. What if ir was just a distraction from all the lies in your life. Before you knew it you were standing at you front door. You could feel his presence behind you unmoving.

“Goodbye Suna,” you huffed opening your door.

“STOP! YN please!” His voice broke. “Please don’t shut me out again! Talk to me!” You refused look back but if you did you’d see tears welling in his eyes holding on with all might trying not to spill over his heated cheeks. You looked at the entrance of your home every fiber in your body screaming at you to comfort him to reach out and hold him close, but you were so scared. So afraid to learn the truth.

“If our friendship ever meant anything to you please talk to me.” He voice so quiet like he was terrified of your response. You moved forward opening the door and stepping through the threshold. You could hear his sharp intake of air you could feel the pain radiating from him. You turned to him seeing Suna broken in a way you had never seen before. Not when he lost nationals, not when he lost his pet, not with any of his break ups. Your heart shattered at the sight. You looked into his eyes before opening you door wider for him to enter. You could see the relief rack through his body. Slowly as though he was unsure you’d change your mind at the last minute he stepped into your apartment. He tentatively took off his shoes before looking around your home studying every detail. You walk past him taking a seat on your couch you look down at the ground in front of you. You can feel the couch seat next to you shift under his weight his long legs entering your vision as you kept from looking up. You both sat in an uncomfortable silence both unsure were to start.

“So this is we’re you been all this time,” he let out a small laugh at the irony, “all that time I spent looking for you and here you were less then ten minutes away from me.”

Your face scrunched “ why would you look for me,” you asked letting your insecurities get the best of you.

He looked at you like you had just asked him if the sky was blue because to him that had to be stupidest question he had ever heard. You shifted uncomfortably under his stare you body now facing him. You head throbbing from the cluster of emotions and from the alcohol coursing throughout your body. You were sorta thankful for your inebriated state. You doubted you’d have the small amount of courage you have now with out it. Your attention turned back to the male sitting beside you.

“Because I care about you dumbass.”

“Oh really! Yeah it sure seemed like that! Two years he cheated on me for TWO YEARS!,” you started to feel heated the walls you had built around your emotions bursting at the seems. “ that’s news to me although at this point I’m not all that surprised, but still I was only aware that he had been cheating on me for eight months! So I just find it strange that you know it was for two years! Tell me Suna did you know the whole time and just let me sit there ignorant to his betrayal! I know you are his friend and that you’ve known him longer but still I thought our friendship meant something!” You aren’t sure when it started but tears were spilling down your cheeks. You looked into his eyes and saw pain. He was hurt that you thought he’d ever choose anyone over you.

He takes a deep breath steadying himself “I’m going to explain everything and I need you to please just listen to me,” he sighs looking to you for your response. You gave a small nod . He let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He rubs his hands over his face trying his best to calm his nerves.

“It was two weeks after your birthday,” he begins. “You weren’t answering your phone, it was so unusual for you to ignore me for that long no matter how busy you were you’d always call me and check up, so when I got no response I got scared you were angry with me ,so when I was meeting up with Osamu and he said he hadn’t heard from you either and that Atsumu wasn’t answering his phone neither we decided to stop by.” His face twitched with aggravation. “You can imagine our surprise to find the place a mess and Atsumu just sitting there in self pity. It became apparent that you weren’t there. When he said you left him Samu and I were shocked there was no way you’d just leave so we both knew something had to happen.” You could see Suna’s jaw clench and fist ball up grabbing at his pants. “When he finally broke and told us he cheated on you and you had caught him he came clean about the two years. I couldn’t hear anymore of his bullshit so I punched him and left.” Your eyes went wide. He punched him. “Osamu had to come outside and calm me down, I was so worried no one knew where you were and that ass was just sitting there feeling bad for himself!” He seethed. You placed your hand on his arm trying to calm him. It must have done the trick. He took a deep breath before looking straight into your eyes. “I honestly thought you knew how long, I didn’t know I promise you that,” he picked up your free hand holding it in his. “You should know I’d never choose him or anyone for that matter over you.”

Your heart felt like it stopped in that moment. “Why would you say that,” you asked breathless.

He let out a chuckle he brought his hand up to caress your face. You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing your cheek firmly into his palm. You heart started to quicken. There was a look in the middle blockers eyes that you had never noticed before although it looked so familiar like this was how he always looked at you and you were just to blind to notice. “I thought it would have been obvious by now,” you didn’t notice how close you had both become. His face was merely an inch or two away from yours. His eyes glanced down to your lips, you copy the motion. You can feel your cheeks heat. “ I’m in love with you,” he states his breath hiting you face. Before you knew it his lips were connected to yours.

You didn’t pull back enjoying the feeling of his lips. He snaked his hand behind your head holding the back of your neck securely. The kiss was slow but so full of passion. You felt a light lick of his tongue as he requested to deepen the kiss. You gladly obliged opening your mouth to his exploration. You snaked your hands into his hair adjusting your body to his. Slowly he leaned you back on the couch capturing you underneath him. He slid he’s free hand down grabbing ahold of your hip as your tongue danced together sensually. He gave a light squeez to your hip. Your lips disconnected as your head fell back while you let out a soft moan. He seized this opportunity to place delicate kisses under your jaw and down your neck before latching on to your neck. You legs spread allowing him closer access to you. The hand at you hip gently crept up your shirt before giving a tender clutch to your breast.

“Suna!” You mewled.

He gave a soft nip at your neck “say my name love,” he requested his voice heavy with want. He tweaked your nipple through the fabric of your bra.

“Ahh Rintarou,” you moaned. Your fingers gripping at the black strands of his hair your back arching up into his touch.

You could feel him smile into your neck. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of hearing that,” he recapture your lips into a searing kiss as he rolled his hips into yours bringing another whimper forth. You were lost in the feeling of his presence. It was so calming and warm. You felt so comfortable in his arms like this was something you had done a thousand times. Your want for oxygen is sacrificed for the feeling of him pressed into your body. This was different than anything else. It was like he was trying to pour all of his love into this moment. Everything moving slowly as though he wanted to take his time with you. Nothing was hurried or fueled by lust. It was so unlike anything you experienced with Atsumu, or with .....

“Stop,” you breathed disconnecting your lips sitting up trying to create some distance between your bodies. He moved back worried. Cautious of his next move not wanting to scare you away.

“I’m sorry did I hurt you? did I move to fast? I’m sorry YN,” he stammered out.

“Shh Rin, it’s okay you didn’t do anything wrong it’s me,” he gave a small smile loving hearing you call him by his given name. That smile was quickly replaced with a questioning look.

You calmed yourself trying to figure out how to explain your situation. “Rin I can’t do this right now it’s not okay.... there’s someone,” his face dropped.

“Your dating someone,” you could see the fear on his face.

“Well no we’re not dating... it complicated.”

He could start to figure out what you were referring to, he’s not naive. But still he wanted to allow you to explain it.

“Ah this is kind of embarrassing ugh,” you hid your face in your hands.

“It’s okay YN you can tell me anything,” he looked at you reassuring, he needed to know the truth about the situation. He could only hope it wasn’t to serious.

“Well ,” you took a deep breath “ there’s this guy, he’s my friend,” you add “ he and I are uhh well we sleep together, it’s been going on for two months now,” you search his face for any judgment yet you find none. You continue “ I just don’t feel right continuing with what we were doing.”

He shook his head while he searched for his next words. “So you aren’t dating but you don’t feel right being with someone else,” he questions.

“I won’t lie to Rin it’s complicated, I’m fairly certain I was falling for him, but there’s just so much going on and now this with you it’s a lot.” You give him a small smile. “I’m not sure we’re my head is at. I don’t want to make any mistakes that could ruin everything with you and how we move forward, I also have a lot to think about.”

“I understand that but I hope you understand why I’m hesitant, I’m afraid you’ll drop me again and you’ll be gone from me again,” he looked up at you. “I need to know YN, please tell me why did you cut me out of your life?”

You sighed grabbing his hands holding then tightly in your own. “Rin it was so hard, when he betrayed me it felt as though I’d lost the place I called home, like everything I knew was a lie, it terrified me at the idea that everything was a lie, even us, I don’t think I’d survived if I found out that what we have was nothing. So it was easier to push you and everyone else away, I was scared. I also couldn’t stand the idea of Atsumu being in any part of my life, and I still don’t that’s why I’m still so nervous letting you back in, I’m still not ready to face him.”

“I would cut him completely out of my life for you YN, anything you ask and I do it! You could ask for the moon and I’d find a way.” A soft giggle left your lips at his proclamation.

“I could never ask that of you, that’d include Osamu and he’s your closest friend, I couldn’t do that. And I’m not asking you to cut anyone out.... I just need some time,please understand that. These feeling I have for you are so strong but I want to sort them out before we move forward.” You looked him directly in the eyes. “I promise you Rin I will not drop you again, I don’t want you out of my life.” He nodded.

“Okay, I understand and I’ll give you time, but you have to give me your new number,” he smiled at you. You laughed smiling up at him. God how he missed that smile. You traded numbers, before you walked him to the door.

“Goodnight Rin,” you smiled.

“Goodnight love,” he replied leaning down stealing one more kiss. You looked up at him surprised. “What I promised I’d give you time, I never said I wasn’t going to prove to you in that time just how much I love you,” he grinned that sly smile before slipping out your door. Just like earlier that day you slid down your door sitting on the floor letiting out a sigh, except now you had a multitude of new problems. But right now all you could think of was sleep. You were exhausted.

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[wornoutmouse]

Bakugou x black reader

Quirk accident

Pussy and cunny are such a funny words...i hate it

Getting hit with a lust quirk was not on the top of your to do list when you graduated from U.A. Getting hit with said quirk while partnered with your childhood nemisis, LoRd ExPlOsIoN mUrDeR himself was most definitely not on your list.

You were this close to defeating the villan without any complications. Until you miscalculated your final kick. That was all it took for the Villian to get the jump on you and effectivity activate their quirk.

"Take him to jail boys but watch the hands." You say as you hand the culprit off. He was one of six vigilantes that were pulling morbid slapstick pranks on people. It was awful, anything from a love quirk making a wife cheat on her husband, to a man having feet for hands and hands for feet.

The last straw however was when one member made an office building vibrate. It was a small one and barely an earthquake level tremor. But it was able to do a lot of damage due to the fact the building was so old.

"Are you sure that's all the people inside?" You call out to Bakugo who only glared at you. "I think I was pretty thorough." Sighing at his superiority, you walk to the front of the building, "Just in case, let's double check."

As you walk through the many levels of the building, you feel the quirk slowly take into effect. It's a gradual climb before you notice. First you're out of breath after 1 flight of steps. Then you find yourself sweating excessively even though there were many windows that had bursted in the altercation.

Your condition forced you to notice certain things as well. Like the way Bakugou's arms flexed randomly most likely due to his clenched fists. How his back was solid and strong. His sharp eyes made you shiver at the thought of them looking down at you. His teeth were so pearly white but all you could think of was the thought of those teeth sinking into your supple flesh.

By the time you and Bakugo got to the last floor, your brown complexion was flushed so much you could see it, and your legs shook as you walked. The ever growing feeling of want and need throbbing in your lower regions pushed you over the edge and you collapsed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" You raise your hand waving him off, "It's fine I.... I just need to catch my breath and go home." Bakugo stared at you for a while before sighing. "That bastard hit you with his quirk didn't he? Wasn't he the one with the lust quirk?"

You nod seeing no use in denying the truth as you unzipped your shirt trying to promote some form of circulation. It was silent before Bakugou sighed, "Look, I'm going to go to the bathroom, then I am going to rob a snack machine. That should give you enough time to grind out your problem." He said looking away as his face slowly became pink.

You barely waited for Katsuki to leave before you were sliding your hands into your pants. Your chest heaved as you gently graze your fingers against your clit, crying out from the sudden pleasure that was almost too much.

The throbbing sensation was painful and it seemed that your current menstruations were only making it worse. You push your fingers pass your folds and you're soon hit with a dull orgasm. There was no elevation of the pain and it only made you more frustrated as warm tears flowed down your face.

You thrust your fingers within yourself, trying to find some way to destroy the feeling. Bringing your hands up to play with your chest as the bud hardens in the cool air, as your skin contrasted perfectly with your furnace like body heat.

With a long whine you find yourself on your hands and knees forcing your fingers inside yourself. Your legs shake from the force of your fingers abusing your g-spot. It was as if you were moving forward to release but at the same time moving back to pain. "Fuck, please, please it hurts!" You cried out as you received another painfully dull orgasm. "Bakugou." You mumble repeatedly wishing you had the courage to call out to him.

"Y/n?!" You freeze at the sound of Bakugo standing over you. Removing your fingers from your hole with a loud plop, you cry at the immediate pain you felt from being empty. "S-Sorry, I got carried away, I'm f-fine now." You say, standing up so fast that you became dizzy.

You weren't fine, hell anyone who looked at you could tell. You were hardly keeping your eyes open and the rapid dilation of them made it a miracle you could even see. Below your previous place were noticeable puddles of sweat that had long since drenched your hero costume.

As you came back to your senses, Bakugo pushes a finger against your shoulder making you swat a little more than necessary.

"Don't lie to me, you are barely standing. Jerkin off didn't work huh?" You closed your eyes and tried to take in deep breaths to calm the multiple heartbeats you felt throughout your body. "I'm fine, I-I'll just go home and-" "And what? Obviously doing it yourself doesn't work?!"

You glared at Bakugou, "It's none of your concern anyways so why do you care!?" Bakugo pulled at his hair annoyed. "I'm not trying to wake up to a headline of H/N dead cause she couldn't bust a nut."

You lean against the wall and sigh from the comforting coolness of it. "I don't know Katsuki, maybe I'll call a hooker, why does it even matter?"

You could tell you were getting on Bakugou's nerves as his temple vein started to twitch. "And what will you do if the public find out their favorite neighborhood hero is socializing with prostitutes" Your head was throbbing from the loudness of Bakugou's voice and you didn't think you had the strength to remain conscious.

Behind your closed eyes, you could hear loud shuffling and annoyed grunts. It wasn't until you heard the familiar jingling of a belt that you opened your eyes. "W-What the hell are you doing?!"

Bakugo had fully stripped down from the waist up and was now working on the next task. Now you weren't saying you didn't appreciate the view, hell you were salivating at the sight. The only problem was that this was presenting a line that no one can simply hop over and come back.

"I'm going to help you dumbass." He responded, dropping his pants on the floor and walking towards you naked as the day he was born.

You hold your hand up as if trying to stop him but really it was because you didn't have the strength to retreat. "You don't have to do this, I'll be fine."

"I know I don't have to do this, I want to." Bakugo smirked before realizing what he said, "I want to help you that is. Look, you can barely walk much less take care of yourself once you get home so this needs to happen now."

Bakugo trails off as he studies your body with his eyes, drinking in every curve, every dip, and every detail. "You ass got bigger than when we were in school huh?" That comment sobered you up quickly as you forcefully walked past Bakugo. "I'm not going to stand here and deal with your shit right now dude."

You take a few shaky steps before you find yourself pressed up against a wall with a warm calloused hand down your pants, cupping your vagina. All anger leaves your mind as lust takes over. You buck your hips pathetically in his hand trying to get relif but instead he takes his time teasing you.

He slowly takes your clit between his fingers delivering small pinches to it before sliding a finger down your labia. "You're really sensitive now huh?" Bakugo whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

Taking his other hand, he gently pulls down your pants while he leaves a trail of kisses on your shoulder. "Just let go and let me take care of you." Your eyes widened just as Bakugo smoothly slips a finger inside of you. "Oh, you got tighter. Did you like that? You want me to take care of you Y/N?" You almost gagged from the pride oozing off of Bakugou as he pressed his hot body against yours.

"T-To much, I feel b-better now." You try to offer as a way to make this embarrassment end, moaning loudly as Bakugo taps your g-spot. His fingers, while longer, were also much thicker. So while yours did fine touching yourself, it felt as if Bakugo was touching everywhere at all times.

"You say that but all it would take to get you on your knees would be for me to touch this magical place right here."

As if having a need to prove his words, Bakugo delivers three light touches to your clit and g-spot at the same time, effectively making your legs weak as you spray clear liquid down his arm. You slide down the wall in pleasurable defeat as you feel the lust continue to grow stronger than before.

Bakugo watches you with pity as you violently trembled on the floor, just as turned on as before.

"Y/N you know what we have to do." You nod absentmindedly too focused on trying to alleviate the pressure on your clit. Bakugo sighs as he positions you to stand up against the wall. "Jump." You look at him confused and he rolled his eyes, not wanting to repeat himself.

You yelp as strong arms reach out and lift you in the air, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. "Put me down!"

You hold onto Bakugou's neck, though there really wasn't a need from how firmly he was holding you. "I don't like being picked up." Bakugo leaned towards you and you stiffen as you feel something hot and heavy rub between your pussy lips. "And I don't like brats that are too prideful to take some dick when offered."

At that, Bakugo thrusts completely inside of you without resistance. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel the true difference between the mock pleasure fingers gave, and that undeniable euphoria Bakugou's cock was delivering.

Bakugo looks at where your bodies connected, and almost came on the spot. You were greedily sucking him in with every thrust as though you were made for him. He sped up, watching your features change as sweat drenched your pretty face and lewd moans left your pretty lips. "Oh God, please Baku-Please!"

Bakugo takes hold of your ass as he pushes away from the wall, making you completely rely on him to stay upright as he forces your hips to slam down on his cock.

"Fuck, I'm going to make you feel so much better." How he held up your weight while keeping the same momentum is beyond you as you peered through your slitted eyes.

His red eyes were concentrated on what would make you come as choked moans left you the deeper he went. "Please Daddy make me cum!" You accidently cried out, feeling closer than you had all night. Bakugo stopped eyes wide and for a moment you thought you did something wrong as he set you down on your back.

"I'm sorry I-I shouldn't have said anything, please don't stop." You whined as the pain of emptiness came back tenfold. You hiccup as Bakugo raises your legs to your chest effectively pulling you into a mating press.

"Say it again."

You furrow your brows, "Huh?" in one thrust Bakugo was back inside of you, unapologetically hitting your guts. His thrust were now more powerful and animalistic leaving no room for rebuttal as he pistons out of your weeping hole. "I said, say it again!"

Your loud moans could be heard throughout the building as Bakugo ravaged you. His kisses were rough and unforgiving, mostly involving teeth as he marked your shoulder with love bites. "Say my name!"

Covering your eyes embarrassed, you give him what he wanted, "Daddy, please, I'm so fucking close!" Your moans were ragged and throat raw.

Bakugo grabbed your wrists and held them above you. "Don't hide from me. Look at the man that's making you feel this good. No one else can ever touch you like this!" You nod getting even more turned on by the dominance as you felt your walls being destroyed. "No one can touch me l-like y-yo-fuck!"

You weren't exactly lying either. Maybe it was the quirk, maybe it was truly Bakugou's dicking down. What you do know is that the fiery bastard may have ruined you for sex for the rest of your life.

"Fuck, you're so damn beautiful." You whine in response, unable to speak anything even remotely inteligible.

Bakugo groans as you gradually tighten around him and slow his thrusts. Finally after a few precise bumps over your clit, the cord keeping you from your release snaps making your world go dark with a loud yell.

"Fucking hell." Bakugo curses as he pulls out of your tight grip and jerks himself off the rest of the way.

It was a long while till you two spoke. The air was cool and the silence was needed. "That was great." You giggle, delirious from your orgasm. Bakugo wearily watches you wiggle your toes from afar as he puts his hero costume back on. "Are you okay?"

"Broski I'm more than okay." You try and stand only to fall right back on your ass but that only served as comedy to you in your blissful state.

If you were truly conscious, you'd be freaking out from what had just transpired. Even more so was the fact that Bakugou Katsuki himself had called you beautiful.

But alas you had the attention span of a 4 year old and was unable to compute as Bakugou carried you home and gently laid you on your bed before taking his leave, looking back at your sleeping form with with sad eyes.

[awoogayanderes]

CHAPTER SEVEN - CHURCH

➪ word count: 770 words

➪ summary: while everyone has their own emotions, you try to analyze them at once while also trying to balance out what’s happening.

➪ a/n: this is absolute garbage, this was technically a filler chapter since it’s been so long that i updated this series. i deeply apologize.

"I don't know why she won't give me another chance," I heard a man say as we walked into the church. "I don't know, maybe it's because you beat her when you drink too much, you ever think of that?" My eyes widened at that. Great a woman beater. "That's some tough love. Who the hell is this guy?" William said and grabbed the clipboard.

I looked over his shoulder and my eyes fell on the paper. "Ex-cop, partner snitched on him, had to do nine years of hard time. The system spit him out, now here he is." I put the pieces together. This was Zeke's ex-partner. The murderer. As I was thinking, the reunion ended. As everyone was exiting, we walked closer to what we presumed was the host. "Hey Pete," Zeke said and the man turned towards him in surprise.

"Zeke, last guy I expected to see here. You trying to get sober?" Pete put his hands in his hips. "Alcohol's not my problem," I could tell Zeke was already annoyed. Meanwhile, William and I watched in silence. Except William seemed more focused and concentrated. What was he thinking about? "The glass and the bottle can kill," Pete said. At least there was one thing he was right about.

"How you doing Pete," Zeke said, officially starting the interrogation. "Eighteen months sober, living in a church basement, who could ask for anything more? Who are these two?" Pete replied, signaling towards us at the end of his statement. "Detective L/N," I simply responded. "Detective Schenk. We're working together." William introduced himself. "Don't let this guy catch you jaywalking, or he'll stab you right in the fucking back," Pete said with slight anger.

"Weren't you the one who shot the innocent man," I defended Zeke. Pete snapped his head towards me. "You're right, I did," he admitted. He turned back to Zeke. "I was mad for a long time, but now I take responsibility. I should have never pulled the trigger. The guy had a family. It was crazy back then, right? We were working under Article 8. We were out of control. Cops were given their own discretion to crack down on crime." Zeke rolled his eyes at this.

"Where were you July 4th at 9:30 p.m.?" Zeke said, finally losing his patience. "Really? That's what you're here for?" Pete scoffed at him. "That's what I'm here for." The incoming words from Pete made me space out, instead, I was concentrating on other things. The anger radiates from Zeke and Pete at the same time. Then there was William. I could sense an emotion from him, a confusing one.

While his face was emotionless, there was obviously something going through his head. It was as if William had seen Pete once before and didn't want to talk about it. What a weird intuition I have, huh. "You know...loyalty." I heard Pete say. Though I didn't pay attention to what he has said, I could see Zeke's nonchalant expression. "Loyalty. Take care, Pete." Zeke lastly said, turning around, signaling for us to follow him.

"God loves you, Zeke," Pete said in an almost mocking tone. "More than you." Zeke rolled his eyes. I followed Zeke, expecting William to trail along. He did, but not before looking at Pete, seeming like he was scanning Pete. When we got out, realization struck me and I frowned. Pete wasn't a valuable suspect. Back to square one, once again. "Can't believe that guy used to be a cop. He shot an innocent guy, but you turned on him?" William said.

"It seems almost incredible that he used to be a cop," I inquired my opinion. "There's a code, both of you better learn how to follow it, or you're going to spend the rest of your life watching your back," Zeke warned us. I was obviously aware of the code, Zeke mentioning it one too many times when I became his partner. "Fair point. Maybe it's a good thing they made us partners." William said, turning to smile towards me.

That was the last thing said before we got into Zeke's car. As I sat in the backseat, my mind started running through everything we knew so far. Almost nothing. No fingerprints located, no valuable suspect, and no sightings of this guy. I sighed in frustration, obviously getting pissed off at our progress. "You okay," William asked. "Yeah just a bit ticked off at what we know," I said. "Don't worry Y/N, we'll catch this guy, I promise," Zeke said. I’m starting to doubt those words.

[rose-colored-amy]

So, this is a continuation to my extremely short one-shot Last Moments, Last Regrets, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Regardless, I'll leave the link of that one in here:

Also, thanks to @coeurhh for suggesting I write a second part. You're a sweetheart 🥰

She made a lovely fanart/gif, which I'm also sharing, of course:

Prompt: AU. Sakura's death goes unnoticed to everyone but the squad she protected with her life and Tsunade. Team Kakashi doesn't find out until the very end, when Naruto and Sasuke have already had their fight, and there's nothing to do about it but mourn the absence.

Warning: Mild Sasusaku and lots of angst. Team 7 sort-of-fluff (?)

—Blue Bird, Let Go—

"Hey, bastard... I know they really let us down, the village, I mean."

"Aa... "

"But I really think it's not all that bad. When we were I team, I knew you understood. It felt like having a brother, believe it."

They were watching their lives go by, shadows of unknown faces passing by them, not noticing their pain, or not caring whatsoever. Their backs were touching, but it was all cold and bleak; a bad memory. A clan slaughtered, a demon sealed. Two lonely boys wallowing in their own sadness.

"Well, even if I don't make it, I'm glad it was you, bastard—"

"Shut up, idiot." His voice sounded strained, even for his standards, but Sasuke was so tired he couldn't even bring himself to care.

"We're really dying, ah? Wanna say something? I do have things to say, 'cause there's no way I'm dying—"

"In silence?" Sasuke interrupted, but Naruto payed him no mind.

"Without telling you how much of an asshole you've been! I couldn't even keep my promise to Sakura-chan! She's gonna be so damn mad when she finds out, I'm sure she'll drag me back to life just to cave my face in—" He was rambling at that point, but it was just so comforting and normal to Sasuke that he didn't even acknowledge it anymore.

"Hn. Sakura... She..."

"She still loves you, asshole. I don't have any idea how it can be possible but—"

"I'm sorry..." It sounded rushed, but Naruto heard it perfectly, and in the darkness of their shared consciousness, Sasuke heard a resigned sigh.

"Well, it's not that bad. I cannot imagine dying beside anyone but you, bastard."

"Idiot..." He made a pause. "Me neither."

"You're both a pair of idiots!"

Suddenly, the unreadable mass of unrecognizable faces around them cleared, and one figure stood in front of them, pink eyebrows frowned in annoyance. Though this version of Sakura looked familiar, it was one none of the boys had seen in a long time. Genin, long-haired, Sakura was glaring at them, arms crossed.

"Sakura-chan! What are you doing in here?!"

Her eyes softened. "What, so I'm supposed to let you two die, after everything? No way in hell!"

"Sakura..."

"You!" She pointed at Sasuke, who flinched slightly at her rudeness. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I don't care. Lighten up and start being your moody self. We love you just like that! Don't act so repented and shit! If you're sorry stop looking like a lost puppy and start doing something about it, you asshole!" Her voice was raising with madness and it was slightly off putting to see what used to be a stuttering lovestruck preteen talking to him like that.

Naruto snorted at that, obviously delighted for not being at the receiving end of her wrath for once. It was short-lived, however.

"And you!" She pointed at the blonde; then crossed her arms. He jumped back in fright. "What is this? How dare you even consider dying after you promised to be the best goddamned Hokage in history?! Here I am, rooting for you, while you lay around like a lazy pig with your edgy bro there. You should be ashamed of yourself!" She scoffed.

Naruto's mouth was so wide open he could have caught a fly. "Lazy pig? Are you kidding?!"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, half amused, half annoyed. "Edgy?"

Suddenly, the edges of their vision began to blurr, like a genjutsu being unravelled. "Ah, someone came to help you at last." Sakura seemed relieved. Strangely so.

"Hey, Sakura-chan! You know what? You're right. I'll be the best damn Hokage ever, believe it! Just you watch!" He threw a punch to the air.

Seemingly placated and pleased with his answer, she nodded. "I know so." Then, she turned to her other teammate, who was concentrating solely on her face, mismatched eyes softened as they'll ever be. "And you'll make sure he doesn't mess up, right?"

They shared a long silence. There was something strange about Sakura aside her appearance. He could tell. "Hn. I will..."

"Hey! I don't need him watching over—"

"Sure you don't." He countered sarcastically.

"Also..." They turned to her again. "I'm sorry."

"Wha—" Naruto stuttered. "What the hell would you be sorry for, Sakura-chan?! If anything, it's the bastard here who should be apologizing to you!"

"Sakura..." Sasuke seemed to be searching for the right words, but she couldn't let them go without them listening to her. To what she needed them to know. There wasn't much time left after all.

"I'm sorry, because I wasn't what you needed..." She closed her eyes, her pretty minty orbs. Her appearance suddenly shifted, before then now standing her true self, still dressed in the standard shinobi uniform of the alliance. Her forehead protector lost to whoever knows where. "And thank you. You both made me stronger. You made me appreciate what I had. And I'll always, always love you. Our moments together like team seven... I'll treasure them for all eternity."

"Sakura-chan..."

"I know Konoha wasn't the best to you both, but don't forget the good... The wholesome moments. It's all that matters in the end... Our bonds, the bonds you managed to forge with sweat and blood... The world we live in, the world that gave me the chance to meet you. To me, that's to be cherished. Forever."

The white light started overwhelming the rest. Even Sakura's features started dissapearing.

"Live. Just live." For that, she specifically stared at Sasuke, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And thank you."

Sasuke started racing towards her, hand stretched, a forebonding understanding shaking his bones. "Sakura!"

And then, they both lost consciousness.

When they woke up, aside from feeling like shit, the first thing that crossed their minds what the finality of Sakura's words. Tsunade was beside them, patching them up, with Kakashi beside her, silently watching over them.

"About time, brats! What were you think—"

"Baa-san." Naruto interrupted her, his voice the most serious she had heard him until then.

"Where's Sakura?" Sasuke finished for him, his eyes icy and detached, trying to keep his worry at bay.

But she didn't need to answer. Her chakra flow hesitated, spiking with sorrow. Her eyes glistening with unbearable loss. Kakashi, at her side, stared, eyes widened in comprehension.

She was gone by a long shot.

And they were just finding out.

...

Everybody had different ways of dealing with loss. Naruto helped rebuild the village along with everyone else, but he skipped his usual meals, his ramen left forgotten in his kitchen counter. His movements when sparring were sloppy at best, not just because of the new prosthetic limb, but also because his mind was clearly somewhere else. Usually, Shikamaru would drag him out his makeship house, like he had done when Jiraija was gone for good. Sometimes, he would bring Ino with him, who was suspiciously skinny and messier than normal. No makeup covering the dark circles under her eyes.

Kakashi spent more than usual at the memorial stone every day, tracing the newly marked name of the girl who once remained him of Rin but that had come to claim a place for herself in his heart. Also, he took more missions than it was allowed in a month, going so far as to pick up his ANBU mask again, which caused an altercation with Tsunade, who hadn't been sober in a long time and had been hoping to hand the Hokage seat to him.

Sai avoided the color pink for a long time.

Sasuke... Well, he dealed with loss the same as everyone else... Longing for the missing person to be there, itching to have the opportunity to say what he couldn't at the time. Wanting to be alone whenever they would reach for him... And he built a tomb for her in hopes to find some closure. Not that official, because there wasn't a body to bury, and it had no name, but it was enough for him. He would bring with him camellias every day, buying them at the Yamanaka's, where Ino would always glance at him in silent understanding.

One morning, on his way to her tomb, he spotted a young shinobi leaving a white lilly for her. When he came by, the child spoke without a care, like they were acquaintances. "This is Sakura-san's, right?"

"Hn." It wasn't really an answer, but the child seemed to understand anyway.

"You know? Mama and big sister are also buried in these grounds... I always talk to them and tell them about my day and stuff I want them to know!" He turned to the Uchiha, a smirk on his cherubic face. "I'm sure she would appreciate it as well." And just like that, he left without another word.

Sasuke sat on the ground, just in front of the stone, mismatched eyes half lidded. Sensing no one in the vicinity, he exaled a shaky breath, and his dam opened up, the words longing to be said broke the silence he had been wrapping around himself since he knew of her death:

"I miss you... I've been missing you since I first left."

[nothing-but-dreamy]

DRINKING SHOTS WITH CHRIS AND LEON PT. 2

A/N: So, one person asked for a sequel and even I couldn't get these two out of my mind so, here it is: the unplanned second part. Just enjoy it

Characters: Leon Kennedy; Chris Redfield; Reader

Warnings: angst; fluff

Words: 2.016

As you awoke the next morning, you remembered every single bit of the last night and even if you would hope it would be just a dream, you knew it was all real.

Chris as a cuddly teddy, you never thought this was possible.

How he has called you his 'little baby sister'.

And most important, Leon Kennedy had kissed you.

You had an odd feeling about that but you and Leon had to talk.

"Hey, Chris.", you greeted the big guy who sat alone at a table in the dining room.

"Ugh, not so loud.", Chris whined and held his head.

"Sorry. How are you doing?", you asked, slightly regretting his state because of you.

"Fucking wonderful. Next time, remind me that I don't wanna drink with you. Never again. Why are you even this fit?", he asked low, checking your appearance.

You searched for an answer because Leon's kiss had made you sober almost immediately, "Oh, uhm... Water. That's the trick. Where's Leon?"

"I hope he’s rotting in hell for not stopping you.", Chris cursed without looking up.

"He's at the shooting range.", a team mate called through the room.

You frowned. The shooting range was the last place you had expected Leon to be for such an hour but on the other hand, it was what he did when he needed distraction.

You patted Chris encouragingly on his shoulder before you turned around to leave him alone with his hungover.

As you reached the shooting range, Leon stood there, tall and proud with the gun in his hand. He aimed for a wooden target several metres away. You watched him correcting his stand, raising the gun before he pulled the trigger to make a perfect shot in the middle of the head.

Like always, you liked watching Leon. This man was good at anything he touched. He even had trained you at your first days but now, as you looked at him, something felt different. You weren't just impressed by him. You were admiring him. And to your surprise, this wasn't even a new feeling. It always had been there.

You weren't sure if he had seen you until, "Good morning.", Leon said low without looking at you while aiming for the next shot. He pulled the trigger and hit the wooden target in the spot where the heart would be.

As he was done, Leon put the gun down and secured it before he turned over to you, leaning with crossed arms against the table behind him.

Suddenly, everything felt awkward around you. You swallowed down the knot that had appeared in your throat. Everything had made sense in your head but now, where you stood in front of Leon, your brain felt like mud, "Y-you look good. Aren't you hungover?"

"No. Water is the trick.", Leon answered low but then, he went silent.

You stepped forward, trying to calm yourself with your hands buried deep into your pockets, "We should talk.", you said finally as the silence was too much.

'No, we should forget what happened.', Leon thought but as he saw your waiting and mostly insecure glance he couldn't say it, "Yeah.", he admitted finally.

"That wasn't what you really wanted to say, right?", you guessed.

Leon was surprised. Could you read him this easily? You knew him well but he always hoped he wasn't this easy to decipher.

You looked at the ground, playing with a small rock with your foot, "Actually, I can understand if you say it was just because of the alcohol. We can forget it.", you offered an easy way out and before Leon could say something, you turned around to leave. Taking his silence as an answer and losing your courage.

"It wasn't just because of the alcohol.", he said low and for a moment, he thought you hadn't heard him.

But then you stopped, facing him with your back, "So, what Chris said was the truth? You like me and never said something?"

"I haven't had much luck with women and you know that.", Leon said and as you turned around, he looked at the ground.

He was right. Since you knew him, he had flirted with some women and sometimes, he had spent the night with them but nothing lasted very long. You always asked yourself why it was like this because, in the end, Leon was handsome as hell, funny, nice, protective ... actually, everything you searched in a man, "It could be different between us.", you said low.

Leon looked up into your eyes. Hope was displayed in them and for a moment, he considered giving in but Leon had to be stronger, "I doubt that. It has nothing to do with you-"

"Right."

Leon stepped forward, "Believe me, yn. It's not about you. Yes, yesterday, with the alcohol, I got the courage to kiss you but...it should be a one time thing. Trust me, it won't end well if we try something. Our friendship is more important."

You nodded slowly before you went away avoiding that Leon could see your tears you tried to hold back. He wanted to stop you but he couldn't. He had seen the tears and the sight hurted more than he thought. That was exactly what he wanted to avoid, seeing you hurt because of him.

**

Leon stayed at the shooting range until his gun was empty and the wooden target almost destroyed. He had taken his anger out on it. Over and over, his mind was running through the happenings. The kiss. The talk. The things he had said. Your tears.

It was true, he liked you a lot and many times he had imagined to have you by his side as more than just a friend but then, he reminded himself how the most things with women ended for him and the last thing he wanted was to lose you.

Leon decided to go back into his room to find some distraction and to get a clear mind. As he walked through the dining room, he spotted Chris sitting at a table, a bottle of water in front of him, "You're such an idiot! I hope you know that.", Leon said angrily, stopping next to his friend.

Chris held his head between his hands, "Whoa! Quieter, please! And I have no idea what you mean.", he whined.

"You told yn that I like her.", Leon pointed out, ignoring the painful expression of his friend.

Chris looked up, confusion written on his face, "I did- what? No, I didn't. I would remember that!"

Leon chuckled dryly, "Sure. You remember calling her your 'little baby sister'?"

Chris' eyes went big, "I did... Oh, bloody hell! You think she's mad?", Chris asked fearfully.

Leon huffed out, rolling with his eyes, "Not about you.", he muttered.

"What are you talking about?", Chris asked confused.

But Leon just shook his head. It wasn't to blame Chris. In the end, Leon had kissed you. No one had forced him to do that. He had been weak for one second and now he had to deal with it, "Nothing, forget it. If you see her, tell me.", Leon said and went to his room.

**

The whole day, you were running up and down in your room, considering what you should do or what you wanted. And even if it became evening, you were still busy with thinking. All his words Leon had said were running through your brain over and over again.

He was right. Your friendship was great but you were sure, you and Leon could combine the friendship with a relationship and it would be even more great. You really believed that.

You stopped because you had enough of all the thinking with no point. With determination, you left your room and a few moments later, you knocked firmly at Leon's door.

Slightly annoyed, Leon opened the door. His face changed as he saw you, "YN? Wh-"

"One time thing my ass!", you said, grabbing Leon by his collar to bring him down to kiss him. It was a hungry, desperate kiss with all the emotions you had and as you two broke apart for air, Leon looked you deeply in the eyes. His rapid breath was fanning over your face while you waited for any kind of reaction.

He took some time to look at you. Your eyes were filled with hunger and your lips slightly swollen. Like always, you were simply perfect, and still Leon had doubts. He leant his forehead against yours, "We... we shouldn't do that.", he whispered but even for him, it didn't sound that convincing.

"You already said that.", you cupped his face, searching his eyes, "Listen, I understand your point, Leon. But you know me. I'm not just some random girl. We're doing the same things. We’re facing the same things. We're fighting side by side. And if you give this a try, I will even fight for us to work out."

"But I don't wanna hurt you..."

"Then, instead, forget your concerns for one second and tell me what you want.", you breathed with a racing heart. This, right now, was the time for honest talk and you feared the outcome.

Softly, he leant his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, "You're unbelievable. I'm not strong enough to resist you, you know that, right?", Leon asked low.

"I know. And now, please, answer the question. Leon, what do you really want?", you asked.

Determined, he opened his eyes, "I want you.", Leon answered before he cupped your face and crashed his lips on yours. You snaked your arms around his neck and swiftly, Leon raised you from your feet to carry you inside.

You steadied yourself with your legs around his waist as Leon kicked the door shut and pressed you against it. Pinning you with his lower body, Leon roamed over your curves with his hands and slid underneath your shirt to feel your soft skin.

You did the same, just more eager. You grabbed the rim of his shirt to pull it over his head. Hungrily, your hands were dancing over his muscled chest. Touching as much as you could find of him. While Leon kissed down your neck, you clawed your fingers into his long hair which caused him to moan because of your roughness.

Slowly, Leon looked up into your face, admiring everything on you before he carried you to his bed, hovering above you, "God damnit, you're so much hotter than I imagined.", he said, roaming over your body with his eyes.

You smirked, stroking over his naked back and scratching into his skin what let him shudder. You were about to say something as several strong knocks let you two freeze, "Leon!"

Leon laid his index finger on his lips to signal you to stay silent and you nodded. But as it knocked again, you shrieked slightly by surprise and Leon placed his hand over your mouth before he answered as calmly as possible: "Yeah? What is it?"

"I... I haven't seen yn the whole day. I can't find her. You think she's alright?", Chris asked through the closed door.

Looking at you with a devilish smirk, Leon called back: "Yeah, I'm sure she's pretty fine. I guess we will see her later." Leon answered grinning. As he heard Chris’ slowly leaving footsteps, he removed his hand from your mouth.

"Shouldn't we tell him something?", you asked, thinking about Chris and how concerned he had sounded.

Leon shook his head slowly, "No. He was the one who had blurted out my feelings for you. He can suffer a little bit more."

"Actually, Chris is the reason why I'm here right now. You should thank him.", you responded with a smirk.

Leon leant down, matching your smirk and nudging your nose with his own, "Maybe. But not yet. My attention is somewhere else right now.", he breathed before he kissed you deeply.

None of you knew where this would lead but silently you and Leon swore to each other to make this work.