#c: Vy

[watercolormogai]

Vy birthday is in a week AAA idk if V'm going to do anything special for it but V might coin some self-indulgent terms , depends on whether or not V feel up to it or vy depression comes back lol

[sweetlytempests]

in 2021 can we make an agreement to stop telling disappointed shippers to just multiship or polyship as a means to solve shipping disputes. if i don’t like A + B by themselves, why am I suddenly gonna like it because it’s A + B + C. “B has two hands!!!” yes to hold both of C’s hands, A doesn’t need to be up in here at all, stop it. 

[toukenramblings]

I ONLY HAVE 2 REQUESTS TO DO: SENGO AND STORYTELLER HEADCANONS

FEEL FREE TO SEND IN MORE SHIT, IM NOT DOING MY ESSAY T O D A Y

[deerskewl]

I don't think I ever want to see heavymedic written the other way around ever again because it just gave me a heart attack and made me think that people are seriously out here shipping ch**vy with medic

[moeblob]

They’re both idiots but he’s the bigger idiot.

[nctjaem-remade]

my 4.8 gee pee ayy gonna go plummet

[dulich365org]

4 homestay view đẹp ở Nha Trang khiến du khách mê mẩn

4 homestay view đẹp ở Nha Trang khiến du khách mê mẩn

Ngoài những resort hay khách sạn sang trọng thì 4 homestay view đẹp ở Nha Trang dưới đây cũng khiến cho du khách đã đến là không muốn về đâu đấy! (more…)

[spiderrrling]

Thigh Riding - Eddie Munson Headcanon 18+ Smut

Request by Anon - ok but please can we have riding eddie's thigh with some praise kink?

A/N - Ask and you shall receive is all I say, headcanon form!

Masterlist - Taglist - 18+ Taglist - Requests are open

All parties are 18+ and consenting, minors do not engage!

Comments, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

This would happen more than you really thought it would

Because Eddie absolutely loved it, ate up every second of it 

It was the perfect position where he could lose some semblance of his control, and also seeing you lose yours

The two of you could just be making out, and Eddie would drag you onto his thigh, with his lips below your ear

“Move for me will you sweetheart?” Eddie would ask in his really soft, almost pleading voice

And god would he love this if you were wearing a skirt

However he would love it just as much if you were just in your panties or in nothing at all

Eddie’s hands would be at your waist, or gripping your thighs to help control your movements and hold you steady

It was the perfect position for him to be doting on you without you being able to protest

But his lips wouldn’t really be on yours too much

Because it would be the best opportunity for histo be all over your neck and collarbones

Or buried between your boobs

And he would be leaving so many hickeys and love bites

Painting your skin various shades of red and purple with his lips and teeth

The biggest reason Eddie absolutely adored it when you rode his thigh is seeing how much pleasure you got out of it

And he would be praising you the entire time, his lips pressed up against your ear whispering to you the whole time

Eddie never stops talking, especially not during sex

“You’re doing so good for me sweetheart, just like that-”

“Yeah does that feel good?”

“You know you’re so pretty when you sit on my lap like this…”

He’d whisper those things to you just to see you squirm and try to grind yourself harder and faster on his thigh 

And he would groan if he could feel you getting wet from getting off on his thigh

“So perfect sweetheart, even when you’re soaking my thigh like this”

And Eddie would live for any sound that came from your lips

But especially his name

It would make him weak

If he could make you cum on his thigh, he absolutely would

His fingers would slip into whatever you are (or aren’t) wearing to rub quick and hard circles against your clit

“So fucking good for me, my good girl using me to get herself off, c’mon sweetheart cum for me, come on…”

Eddie loved it when your hands were on him, pressed against his chest, or tugging at his hair

Especially when you came he loved to feel your hands buried in his hair and tugging at it frantically as you continue to ride his thigh through your orgasm

And you can bet that Eddie would be absolutely rock hard by the end of it

A complete mess whose only thoughts is about you in all the various positions he could come up with in his mind

And when you finally pull away to look at him, he would have just that little smirk on his face like he was up to no good, because he really was

Taglist - @uglypastels @catastrofhe @obiwanakenobi @ghoulsgraveyard @xbreezymeadowsx @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @meaganjm @ediemunsonswife36 @AMK0127Sadie @eddiemunsonbby @bloommieb @heebyjeebiebbs @mun5on @salome-c @milly-louise @imagine-all-the-imagines @kbakery @sweetpeapod @heebyjeebiebbs @eddieshellfireshirt @Sunsetenigma @hellfire-state-of-mind @cumbersome-robes @m-rae23 @aerdna023 @magnoliakegmm @adoredconnor @escape-in-time-x @sirpascal @eddiemusnon @eddiemunsons-girl @iddieforeddiemunson @simpingoverfictionalppl @ruinedbythehobbit @xcarabear @kaqua @KelpsieFynn @black-and-white1 @bluetreecloud20 @soph69420world @munsonluvbot @munsonlovebot @evilunicorn4minions @bohemian-war @violet-19999 @littleesilvia @howlinghybrid @eddiemunsonsbxtch @inkedaztec @emotionaldreamer @munsonswhore86 @kaitieskidmore1 @eddies-lover @e0509 @heyhunniessilviahere

[halfway-happyyy]

Would love something like you’re in labor and Bradley’s there. Just something fluffy :)

ask and you shall receive! also i've never been in labor, so i tried my best to figure it out.

warnings include: mentions of a (traumatic) labor/birth.

An intrinsic change occurs in Rooster Bradshaw a week after he finds out you’re pregnant with his child.

He stops vying for missions he knows he’d be hard-pressed to come back from.

Where he used to do a buck-thirty down the highway on any given day- rain or shine, he now obsessively follows the speed limit.

Unnecessary risks are simply a thing of the past.

So when the doctor tells you in the delivery room that your baby currently rests in the footling breech position (one leg below the buttocks, the other squished up underneath them) his initial reaction is anger. What went wrong? What could he have done differently to ensure that this didn’t happen? And then he starts to barter in his fury.

If you let my wife and baby come out of this happy and healthy, I’ll never ask for another goddamn thing as long as I live…

“I’m scared, Rooster.”

And he is too.

He’s absolutely terrified of the thought of you in pain or distress of any kind; and the idea of losing the ability to hold his child before they can even manage their first few breaths causes the hair to prickle at the back of his neck.

He takes your hand in his and kisses it. “Whatever happens next kid, it’s going to be alright.”

And this is how he pushes through the fear. Because when you’re this far in it- when it’s so close you can feel the blazing heat of it down your back, there’s no other choice but to dive further into it. So, he pushes the damp hair back from your forehead and places his lips there.

“You can do this, baby. I’ll be right here.”

And as he watches them wheel you away to the operating room, a piece of his heart splinters and dies.

Maverick arrives ten minutes later, perspiration shines on his forehead as he removes the aviators from his face. A sizeable bouquet of wrapped flowers hangs from his left hand. “How is she? I came as soon as you called.”

Rooster glances at him, unaware of how to broach the subject without falling apart. “She’s in operation.”

Maverick’s face drops. “Operation?”

Rooster swallows thickly. “The baby… somehow between our 36-week checkup and now, the baby’s changed positions to a partial breech. She’s gone in for an emergency c-section.”

Maverick drops to the bench beside Rooster, the right words fizzle and fade in the hollow of his throat. “I’m so sorry, Bradley.”

It’s the idea of losing everything he’s worked so hard for that brings him to the brink of insanity. So many things were ripped from him that meaningful connections became incredibly hard to come by, until he met you. And it was both terrifying and exhilarating to know that that part of himself didn’t die with his father.

“Did anyone else have a hard time writing their vows?” Rooster asks one evening over beers at the Hard Deck.

Bob pushes the wire-framed glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “No, I had mine written a month after I met May.”

Hangman guffaws loudly at that. “I’m sure you did, Bob.”

“Oh, he’s not lying.” Phoenix affirms. “What have you got written so far, Rooster?”

Hangman reads the look on his best friend’s face like an open book, his expression incredulous. “Bradshaw, you’re getting hitched in three weeks, and you still haven’t written your vows yet?”

Rooster’s cheeks grow warm under the influence of beer and embarrassment. “I just… don’t know how to convey to her everything she means to me. What her love and support symbolizes.”

Coyote throws a dart at the board a few feet from them and turns to Rooster, his grin wide and infectious. “For the right price my friend, I would be happy to write your vows for you.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes and throws a napkin airplane at his head. “Don’t be a dick, Coyote.”

“I have a rough outline.” Rooster murmurs, defensively.

Phoenix places a reassuring hand over his shoulder blade. “Then the rest will fall into place, buddy.”

“She’s a fighter,” Maverick murmurs, piercing the silence and rousing Rooster from his reverie. “And if the baby she’s about to bring into this world is anything like its grandparents, then you have little to worry about. She is not alone in there, Bradley.”

And it’s then that Rooster hangs his head and gives himself over to the emotions he had been trying so hard to fight off.

And none of this is fair. His wife shouldn’t be in emergency surgery, and Goose should still be here.

Tears stream in rivers down Rooster’s face now but Maverick makes no move to touch him; his unwavering presence is enough- has always been enough. It’s the unshakable bond that two people who have lost something precious to them share. It’s an unspoken understanding; I miss them as much as you do. Rooster couldn’t comprehend any of it at the beginning; even balked at it, but Maverick’s existence in his life has always been a gift.

“I’m the last person you should be going to for advice on wedding vows,” Maverick laughs and throws down the wrench he had been using to tinker around his plane with.

Rooster can’t argue that; the man had been a bachelor his entire life. “You never thought you’d marry?”

Maverick laughs again. “Thought? Maybe. But expectation and reality rarely ever see eye to eye.”

Silence settles between the pair of them; words left unsaid but certainly felt. Maverick wipes the black oil from his hands on a worn cloth and steps away from the plane to give his full and undivided attention to Rooster. “For what it’s worth- she knows you, Bradley. In every way that a future wife can know a husband. And if you are honest in your feelings for her, the rest will fall into place.”

Rooster’s gaze drifts to the cork board a couple feet away. To the smiling photographs of his mother and father that decorate every square inch of free space and something heavy tugs at his heart. “I miss them, Mav.”

“Me too, kid.”

“Mr. Bradshaw?” Rooster jerks up from the curve of Maverick’s shoulder where he had dozed off. Your doctor is standing off to the side, an expectant smile pulls at the corners of her lips. “Your wife has just done a tremendous job. Would you like to come hold your baby girl?”

Rooster’s gaze travels to Maverick’s as if to check for confirmation, and the elder man nods his head, happy tears brimming in the depths of his blue eyes. “You heard her right, kid. Go get her.”

Rooster rushes down the hall to be next to you; holds your face in his hands like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you…” His tears wet your face, mingling with your own as he peppers you with kisses.

“She has your eyes,” You whisper.

Rooster rises from his position at the side of your bed to take his newborn baby girl into his arms. She is breathtaking in her fragility; a true wonder to marvel at her. He traces a fingertip down the bridge of her tiny nose and beams at her. “Thanks for taking care of them, pops.”

[jvngkook97]

Art of the Soul

pairing; artist!jungkook x model!reader ft. DJ!yoongi

genre; angst, fluff, smut, f2l, artist au

warnings; y’all the angst is real in this one, slow burn(?), sexual tension, non-explicit implied smut, cursing, jealousy, infidelity, koo is extremely introvert except with reader, and reader is very outgoing and social which will cause some petty arguments, reader is also a major flirt in this one but she means well…mostly

rating; 18+

w/c; 11,758

a/n; this concept came to me from an artist koo compilation on YouTube that had me daydreaming on some “what if’s”. more specifically, ‘what if Jungkook used your body as a canvas’ and it was really soft and cute and then I realized I needed this in my life and maybe you do too so here you go! ps - the gif will make more sense at the end. I’m so sorry. 🫠 like + reblog if you enjoyed. feedback is always appreciated! tysm <3

Read Part Two {Here}

He walked towards you with the backdrop of flashing lights from the countless amounts of paparazzi that flanked him. If it wasn’t for the security that also adorned his sides at a healthy distance, they would’ve swarmed him by now. His name was being yelled like some kind of mantra within the enclosed space, all vying to get even a second of his attention in order to get their ‘money shot’.

He would bow politely, and shoot heart signs with his hand, but unfortunately for them, that’s all he would be willing to give today. His attire alone shielding his face, all that was showing was his wide, doe, eyes. The black face mask covered his bunny toothed grin, and the matching black baseball cap successfully hid his newfound haircut he recently debuted during one of his art shows. His full body, black ensemble from his head, down to his toes, gracefully glided over to you with open arms. The action making the mantra of Jungkook’s name, now switch to yours upon seeing your figure wrapped up in his.

“Y/N! Y/N! LOOK OVER HERE!”

Paparazzi, reporters, and fans alike all screamed your ‘ship’ name in fervor. Hearing the cheesy name made you snort in Jungkook’s ear. His own chest rumbled beneath you both at your rather unladylike snort, and the equally as cringey name that also graced his ears. Pulling down your own mask, you decided to give the people what they wanted and leaned up to kiss Jungkook on his still face mask covered lips, the only reason you chose that spot. If it was uncovered, you would’ve opted for his cheek instead, knowing to actually kiss him on the lips would be crossing the line, but cloth covered was just playful and cheeky.

They ate it up just like you thought they would. A few paparazzi instantly departing in order to get the opportunity to upload the shot first for the world to see and to get the most money. Jungkook gave you the stink eye, but just shook his head in mock surrender, used to your spontaneous acts of affection over the years of knowing you. Pulling away from his hold, his large hand slid down your arm to engulf your small one in his to lead you safely through the airport to the unmarked, tinted, black SUV, that would serve as your saving grace from the barrage of people.

Once inside, you both waved for a few moments more as security closed the door behind you. The one action alone making the enclosed space get enveloped in a blanket of silence. The only sound to be heard was the soft singing that came from the radio in the front, and the faded, muffled, yells from the crowd surrounding your car as you departed. Taking off your masks simultaneously, you faced Jungkook as best you could within the confines of your seatbelt with a shit eating grin.

“You’re so annoying, y/n.” His rolled his eyes at you playfully, earning a middle finger from both of your newly manicured hands in retaliation.

“You know you love me, kookie.” You winked at him with a sideways ‘v’ being held up over your eye, before asking him the dreaded question.

“How did it go in London? Were you able to see her?” You asked the question with an underlying tone of sincerity and minor disgust. Your whole body inwardly cringing in on itself at the indirect mention of her, Jungkook’s on and off again girlfriend of nearly a whole year, Isla.

Someone who you regretted ever introducing him to unintentionally at one of the London fashion shows you participated in alongside her, him coming to wish you well before the show started with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. She happened to be in line with walking after you on the runway, so she was waiting patiently behind you when he walked up to you. His eyes flickering behind you in her direction with his cheeks painted a pink hue that wasn’t there a second ago, is all the hint you needed to step aside and introduce the pair to their annoying, toxic, soon to be tragic, love story. And your fated, unreciprocated, one-sided, utterly friend zoned relationship with the male.

It was sickening the amount of times he would call you at four in the morning to go on yet another anger induced rant over why either she or him broke it off for the millionth time that month. You would then be forced to wait patiently for him to finish before monotonously telling him the same phrase you always did as a half assed attempt of consoling him over the matter, ‘you’ll get through this, you always do’, even though you already knew that by the time you woke up alone in your California king sized bed the next morning you would find a short text from Jungkook saying ‘we’re back together’. And the toxic cycle would continue, each time digging the metaphorical knife into your already bloody and scarred heart. The same heart that would woefully hope that the reason for their next break up would be because he came to the sudden epiphany of being in love with you, not her.

It never happened. And it never will happen.

You came to your own conclusion five break ups ago when he FaceTimed you the next day and showed you an engagement ring he had custom made for her. A fucking ring. He mistook the tears in your eyes as ones of happiness for them, when in actuality, you were inwardly letting go of all your feelings you held pent up inside over him. It was in that heartbreaking moment you realized you were done. And you moved on, or tried too.

Jungkook manspreaded all over his side of the car, leaning back into the car seat from exhaustion and jet lag. He tilted the bill of his cap down over his face before giving you a muffled reply.

“We broke up, then had make up sex. So, I guess we’re still together?” His muffled voice sounded more confused with his own words than confident. Flicking his cap back up yourself with your finger, you gave him a look. He let out a loud sigh, not wanting to hear your snide remarks about his relationship. He was well aware it wasn’t a good one. Instead, he tried changing the subject of relationships over to your recently changed status he only found out through the inflight news on the flight back.

“It’s always about Isla and I, but what about you, y/n?” He waggled his eyebrows at you before continuing, “How is your love life, huh? You’re with….what’s his name?” He feigned being in thought, then snapped his fingers in mock enlightenment. “Ah, yes! Min Yoongi.”

*******

It wasn’t easy. In fact, it was difficult for you to let down your walls enough to even humor the opposite sex with flirtatious comments and banter. Let alone to accept a date and the later offer of a ‘good time’ at their place of stay, cause you never wanted them to know where you lived. Having dealt with a stalker before, you didn’t want to go through the same traumatizing situation again.

It wasn’t until you crossed paths with Min Yoongi did your walls completely break down. You met him from an after party. He was the DJ for the evening, and having an affinity and admiration for all things music, you always made sure to greet the DJ’s and give a heartfelt thank you for their complex, amazing, work. Normally, all conversations would end there, but there was a certain aura that Yoongi exuded. It made you want to learn more.

He apparently felt the same pull as you did, and extended an invitation for you to tour his studio. You agreed, and after he wrapped up his show, you both left separately to his studio in order to avoid any unwanted attention. Upon your arrival, you found it was a modest, yet equally as intimate studio that connected to his modern style home.

What really sealed the deal for you was the overwhelming patience and kindness that he had for you. It didn’t matter if you were talking a mile a minute, where your focus would easily switch from one topic to another due to your excitement, he still made sure to be the ever perfect gentleman. And not once did he lay a hand on you, or try to attempt anything with you further than conversation. No sly suggestions, no racy comments, and no ulterior motives laced his words or actions the entire time. You didn’t think men like him still even existed in this world, but he proved you wrong.

After that fateful encounter, you made sure to exchange numbers. At first, it was just simple texts asking how the day was going, or if either of you had an upcoming project you were excited about and wanted to share. It was all strictly, friendly. The flirting didn’t start until after the first candid photos of you two taking a night stroll through a park after dinner, ignited the rather cheeky side of you to come out. You texted him the day after once you saw the story had dropped online, having been tagged in it various times on multiple social media accounts.

Good thing they didn’t capture us at a weird angle when I was leaning up to fix your scarf. They probably would’ve edited it to look like we were kissing. LOL. 🤪

Agust D 💦: Would that have been so bad though? If they did catch us kissing?

Too busy fixing your morning coffee for the day, you didn’t get a chance to look at his text until after you were comfortably seated on your loveseat sofa in your living room. You just took a swig of your liquid crack, when you effectively spit it right back out with wide eyes when you did finally read his reply. Holy shit. Was he being serious right now? Typing back a cautious reply, you tried to keep a playful tone, incase he was joking and just didn’t express it through text cause that’s how he was, not being one to use emojis all that often like you.

I mean, it wouldn’t necessarily be bad. I could only imagine the amount of fans that would bombard my socials with death threats, but I would be able to handle them if it meant being with you. Hahahaha. 🤭

Having sent out the first part, you immediately went to type a ‘jk’, but before you could, he replied back. Looking at his reply, you had to reread it multiple times, not truly believing what he just said. The school girl squeal coming out of your mouth as if you were suddenly back in grade school and your crush just admitted they liked you.

Agust D 💦: In fear that I may have misinterpreted previous gestures as you just being friendly, please just ignore this text all together and send me that skull emoji because I will effectively be dead from embarrassment. Otherwise, on the slim chance that you may just like me as much as I like you, I propose we try this whole kissing, hand holding, exclusive, societal term of dating and become boyfriend/girlfriend.

I both just spat out my coffee and squealed like a fucking school girl, so safe to say, that yes, I second your proposal and even go so far as to raise your brilliant suggestion with another hell-motherfucking-yes, Min Yoongi. I would love to be your girlfriend. If only for societal appeasement. Lol jk. But no, seriously, I’m so happy rn. Please tell me I’ll be able to kiss your cute face soon. 🥹

Agust D 💦 : And if you could hear my extreme exhale of relief, you wouldn’t feel as bad. It’s an honor to have you as a girlfriend, y/n. And I’ll be back in town tomorrow evening. Would you like to have dinner? I can cook your favorite meal at my place if you don’t feel like going out in public.

Another reason you fell so hard for the man? On top of being considerate of your feelings? Min Yoongi was an amazing chef. There is nothing that he could cook for you that won’t have you salivating in anticipation of taking the first bite. Or prevent the shameless moans that would emit from your mouth upon savoring the rich flavor it never ceased to have.

He was basically the whole fucking package.

And he was yours. How? You’ll never know.

It wasn’t until you got an incoming call from Jungkook to remind you to pick him up at the airport tomorrow, did you realize there may be a slight change in plans with your now boyfriend. You only hoped that he wouldn’t mind the sudden intrusion, him already well aware how close you and Jungkook are, but he knows you’re just friends and doesn’t feel threatened by him. Another breath of fresh air that had you swooning over Yoongi even more, cause just like you thought, he didn’t mind the extra company. He even went so far as to ask you what Jungkook’s favorite meal was, so he could make it for him.

You wanted to cry from how sweet and thoughtful and selfless he was. You truly didn’t deserve him. But you’ll try your damndest to be worthy of his affection.

*******

Which led you to where you are now, Jungkook being none the wiser.

You chuckled nervously at him, one that had his brows raising into his hairline from the sudden change in your usually confident personality. Yet he waited for you to spit out whatever it was that you were holding in, him crossing his arms over his chest, still in his lax position.

“Yeah, about that…,” you trailed off with a sheepish smile before word vomiting the rest, “We’re actually headed over to Yoongi’s place now to have dinner and it’s going to be our first time together being boyfriend and girlfriend so you’ll be there to witness it, yay!” You threw your hands up in a ‘surprise’ gesture, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

He gave you a blank stare as if still processing the words that just flew out of your mouth at the speed of light, his still sleepy and jet lagged brain fighting to keep up with the new time zone.

“Excuse me, what?” He stated, voice emotionless.

It had you questioning if you shouldn’t just cancel the dinner plans with Yoongi and avoid a potentially awkward situation. But then you thought back to the many times you had to play the third wheel in Jungkook and Isla’s dates when they first started talking, and all the silent cringing and gagging you did while watching them flirt with each other shamelessly in public as if you weren’t even there.

Sitting up straighter, you felt more confident in your decision.

“Yoongi invited me over to dinner tonight, and it’ll be our first time being together as more than just friends, since we’re dating now. You’re welcome to come if you’d like, or I can have my driver drop you off at home. The choice is yours.” You reiterated your last statement, but at a normal pace.

He grunted to himself as his eyes closed, head tilting back against the headrest. For a minute, you didn’t even expect him to reply back to you, or if he did, just to say no and laugh at you like you’re crazy for even suggesting such a thing. However, to your surprise, he said quite the opposite.

“Sure.” He shrugged his shoulders as best he could in the position he was in. Not wanting to reopen his eyes, he tilted the bill of the baseball cap back over his eyes and gave you the ‘ok’ signal with one hand he set free from his previous crossed arms. Then, you could only assume, he fell asleep. Cause he just stopped talking with you after that.

Knowing it was going to be a long ride, you texted Yoongi of Jungkook’s surefire attendance to notify him ahead of time incase he needed to prep anything beforehand. Ironically, he gave you the same ‘ok’ symbol, but this time through text.

Making yourself comfortable, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you and leaned your own head back to get some rest for tonight. You were going to need it.

*******

You expected Yoongi to greet you at the door like he normally does, yet this time, it was his housekeeper, Mrs. Yang, that greeted you and a half asleep Jungkook.

“Mrs. Yang! What a surprise. Is Yoongi okay?” You questioned her, worried.

Opening the door wider she gestured you both inside to get out of the cold of autumn. Walking inside, you both switched your shoes out for house slippers and hung your coats up on the rack that was conveniently next to the door. Once the door was shut behind you both, did Mrs. Yang reply.

“Yoongi is fine, dear. He’s just finishing up in the kitchen. He said you’re more than welcome to join him in there, or I can take you to where you’ll be dining this evening. Which would you prefer?” She explained and asked you politely, hands clasped in front of her like usual.

“In the kitchen–,” you said.

“In the dining–,” Jungkook echoed at the same time.

Both of you stared at each other, having a silent, yet intense conversation with your eyes. You wanted to see Yoongi as soon as possible, and you loved watching him work in the kitchen, it was one of your favorite things to do. But of course, Jungkook being ever the introvert, would want to just immediately hide away and avoid meeting Yoongi as long as possible. You loved Jungkook, but sometimes his personality could prevent you from doing stuff that you wanted to do. Like now.

Letting out a quiet sigh of defeat, you looked at Jungkook, giving him a mini glare. His eyes crinkled as he gave you a small smirk, knowing that he won the silent battle. You turned your attention back to Mrs. Yang, who was still patiently waiting for your definite answer.

“We can wait for Yoongi inside the dining room, if that’s okay, Mrs. Yang.” You gave her a small smile, one she returned in full as she bowed at you both before gesturing you guys to follow her down the hall towards the dining room.

While she was walking ahead with her back towards you both, you took the opportunity to slap your hand rather harshly against Jungkook’s chest, making him wince and mouth a ‘what the fuck’ at you, now rubbing the sore spot with his hand. All you did was point your finger at him with a look that could kill. He rolled his eyes at you before reaching out to pinch your lovehandle in retaliation. His action making you jump a little, gaining the attention of Mrs. Yang enough for her to glance back at you both while still leading you. Both of you straightened up immediately upon her stare and gave fake smiles.

Arriving at the dining room, it was already set up with an expensive looking dish set for three people, various appetizers already littered the table. You can even see some of your favorites, which had you smiling lovingly at the spread, an action Jungkook didn’t fail to notice, making him inwardly gag at your lovesick look. Jungkook stepped up to the table first, cutting you off. You gave him a look of confusion.

He pulled your chair out, and nodded his head at you to sit down, which you did, cautiously, still giving him a weird look. In all the 6 years of knowing him, he’s not once pulled your chair out for you. Interesting. Eyeing him warily, he sat down across from you, taking up the second set of dishes that were laid out, the only one left was at the head table, where you presumed Yoongi would sit, since it was his house and all.

Mrs. Yang poured you both a fresh glass of water before asking if you’d like any wine. You refused politely, and Jungkook agreed to a red wine, which she also poured for him after fetching it from his wine cellar. Once you were both situated and comfortable, did she take her leave, saying that Yoongi should be arriving shortly with the rest of the food and she was going to leave for the rest of the evening. Jungkook and you half bowed in your seated position at her and gave thanks for her hospitality. She bowed politely back with a smile and left, the front door opening and closing shortly after. It wasn’t until the door shut, did your boyfriend make his appearance.

Holding a rather large tray in his hands, he carefully walked towards the table to set it just as delicately in the free space located conveniently in the middle of the table where you could all easily reach it. Your eyes widened at the plethora of food, both of your favorites and Jungkook’s. It made you smile at him with glee, clapping lightly in thanks. Yoongi chuckled at your actions, and gave a mock bow. Jungkook just stared at the delicious looking food with a ravenous look, before collecting himself enough to both comment and greet Yoongi in his usual fashion of a introvert.

“Hey, I’m Jungkook. The food looks amazing. May I?” He looked at Yoongi for approval, hands already reaching out with chopsticks and a bowl to grab his favorite, ramyeon. Yoongi nodded his head with a smile and greeting of his own, still standing.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m Min Yoongi, but please, call me Yoongi. And by all means, dig in, it was made for you specifically.”

His attention turned to you as Jungkook started to inhale his noodles. A quiet moan could be heard from the male across from you, one you knew all too well, having made your own to Yoongi’s food countless times. You could tell, he was in heaven.

Yoongi’s eyes gave a look of confusion, but not necessarily at you.

“Why are you sitting there, y/n?”

Now it was your turn to give him a look.

“What?”

Standing behind the head table chair, he pulled it out, before taking a stand behind yours and gently scooting it back. Maneuvering to your side, he held out his hand for you to take, which you did, still not understanding what was wrong with your seat. Yoongi guided you the few short steps to the head of the table, waiting for you to sit down. Once you were, he gently pushed your chair in, then resumed to occupy your previous seat. Switching out your glasses for you, he made sure your set up was complete before taking your hand in his with a smile.

“You were meant to sit there, Mrs. Yang must have forgot. I thought it would make more sense if you were between the both of us, in case Jungkook feels more comfortable being next to you.” He explained his reasoning, once again making your heart swell with joy due to his natural, caring nature.

Jungkook was listening, but still eating, so he didn’t comment. Not that he exactly wanted too in the first place. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he was grateful for the seating change. He did feel better with you closer. Unfortunately for Jungkook, it seems like Yoongi was interested in getting to know his girlfriend’s best friend.

Yoongi took a bite of his food and swallowed before shifting his line of sight to Jungkook. Observing the male in front of him, he realized he was younger than expected. All the stories you told of Jungkook made him seem older, especially from all the various accomplishments he’s already made due to his art. Having looked up his artwork already, he opted not too look up any personal info, wanting to get it directly from the male himself. And the only thing you did tell him, was that he was engaged, which was also public knowledge at this point, so it’s not like you were divulging any secrets.

“I hear a congrats is in order.”

Not realizing that Yoongi was directing the statement to Jungkook, the oblivious male continued to shovel various other food in his mouth. Kicking Jungkook under the table with your foot is what made Jungkook snap his head up at you with a mouthful of food before swallowing loudly and glaring at you.

You steeled your own gaze at him with a tight smile on your face and tilted your head towards your boyfriend.

“Yoongi is talking to you Jungkook, don’t be rude.” You started off calm before your voice became more sharp at the end. Jungkook only stared harder at you before relenting his head to look at Yoongi and finally acknowledge him.

With a tight, bunny toothed, grin, he asked Yoongi to repeat his question. He managed to sound genuinely sorry so you’ll give him points for his on the spot acting. And then scold him later. Hearing Yoongi for the second time, he was able to give a genuine smile to your boyfriend before replying.

“Yeah! I asked my girl to marry me recently, she said yes. Thank you!” He looked happy when he said it, as he should, but you couldn’t help but feel some type of way about it. You chalked it up to the few sips of Yoongi’s wine that you stole for making your emotions go all over the place. Jungkook continued speaking, much to your surprise.

“Did you know that it was y/n that introduced us?” He nodded his head in your direction for emphasis, making you let out a small laugh to confirm his statement. How could you forget? It used to be one of the worst days of your life, after all.

“Yes. She did mention that she introduced you two, but didn’t tell me the full story. Would you mind..?” He trailed off with a smile, waving his hand at Jungkook in a silent way of telling him to reveal the whole story. Unfortunately for you, he was more than happy to oblige. Even going so far as to disregard his remaining food and lean further in his chair towards Yoongi to recall the story fondly.

What little smile you had left immediately vanished behind the facade of now fully grabbing Yoongi’s drink to chug down the rest of the red wine. Unbeknownst to you, though Yoongi was facing towards Jungkook during his story, his peripheral was on you. So he noticed the slip in your mood. He’d have to ask you about it later.

It felt like Jungkook kept making the story longer than it really was, the clock mocking you with each loud ‘tick’. Swallowing yet another glass of your only reprieve for the night, you pouted when you grabbed the now empty bottle of wine in your hands before setting it back down with a �� you thought quiet sigh, but apparently not, cause both male’s turned to you at your heavy, loud, exhale. Oops.

Clearing your throat at the sudden attention, you sat up from your once relaxed position in your chair that you settled for when the story kept droning on, long since finishing your food after the first 20 minutes of it.

“What?” You eyed the two males, but due to your up until now, quiet persona, when you opened your mouth to say the word, it got stretched out with the sudden yawn that came out to accompany it. Your entire body screamed that you were tired, both of them could tell. It was Yoongi that would come to your rescue, much to Jungkook’s hidden displeasure.

“As enjoyable as this was, we should probably call it a night. It looks like our y/n, here, is ready to pass out in her chair.” Jungkook didn’t miss, or like the way he said our. It left a sinking feeling in his stomach as soon as the simple word left his mouth. But he couldn’t argue with him over it, cause technically, it was true. He might have been your best friend, but Yoongi was your boyfriend, your lover. It held more weight to his title.

Nodding in agreement, Jungkook went to help clean up and clear the table, until Yoongi suddenly sprung up out of his chair in a flourish. The action startling you enough to wake you up and follow suit to Jungkook’s ministrations. Now he looked at both of you with an embarrassed look across his face, waving his hands in front of him in a fervor, he tried to stop you both.

“Please, you don’t have to help clean up, I’ve got it covered. You’re my guests–,” he stuttered the sentence out, losing his confidence in the matter now that he’s well and sober. His recluse side wanting to shy away from the innocent act of hospitality and just being a kind person, cause he wasn’t used to it, having company. Being doted over. It was unnatural to him, foreign.

But you both chose to ignore his pleas of stopping, it only making you two want to do it more. Stacking up the dishes, Jungkook gestured for you to stack yours on top of his already haphazardly stacked pile. You, being ever the smart one, made a show to stack your pile on top of the large tray Yoongi first brought out that could hold much more than you both ever could. Jungkook chuckled at your smarts, and you just winked at him, sinking back into the pleasant atmosphere it once was before the dreaded story came up.

Yoongi’s shoulders sagged in defeat, him reaching out to help gather his own dishes to set on the tray, before you gently swatted his hands away with your own and gave him a warm smile.

“Baby, please. You went through the hassle of cooking dinner and setting this up for us, it’s the least we can do. You just relax, okay?” You spoke in such a soft voice, it made Jungkook pause in his actions, savoring the warmth it brought to his body even though you weren’t even talking with him. It was just the kind of effect you had on him, but he’d never tell you.

He had Isla, he had to remind himself. He chose Isla. And you chose Yoongi. Now, he had to live with the consequences of his actions he didn’t act upon when he should’ve. Back when he once had a chance.

Feeling you both were about to share an intimate moment he didn’t want to be apart of, let alone witness, he noisily clustered Yoongi’s dishes on the tray and grabbed the handles, lifting it up with ease.

“If you could point me to the kitchen, I can bring these over there for you.” His voice was flat when he spoke, something you noticed, but didn’t comment on. Yoongi didn’t pick it up, thankfully, too focused on your figure in front of him and the way you made him feel with just your words alone.

Sparing a glance at Jungkook, Yoongi smiled at him in gratitude and gave him directions to the kitchen, informing him that he could just set them next to the sink and he would wash them later. Jungkook just clicked his tongue at him in a way of saying ‘got it’ and left the room in a brisk, yet careful pace.

You followed his figure until he went out of sight, your brows furrowed at his change of demeanor. You swear, his moods could give you whiplash. With a touch of his hand on your cheek, Yoongi had you looking back at him. You didn’t even realize exactly how close to you he got since Jungkook’s absence.

“Are you okay, y/n?” His face showed concern, though you don’t know why.

“I’m fine, Yoongs. And thank you for an amazing meal and evening. I think even Jungkook might’ve had a good time, and he’s a tough guy to please.” You joked with a light chuckle, leaning into the hand that still caressed your cheek.

“I’m glad to hear that, I was worried he wouldn’t like me.” His confession made your eyes widen. He usually never cares what people think of him, so why now?

“You? Were worried about someone liking you? Are you okay, Min Yoongi? Are you sick?” You playfully placed the back of your hand against his forehead, acting as if you were checking his temperature. He rolled his eyes at you playfully back, lowering your hand gently only to hold it in his own.

“Of course I want him to like me. He’s your best friend, y/n. If he doesn’t like me, then I’m basically cut. Out. Shouldn’t even exist if I’m being honest, cause you’re the only good thing I’ve got going for me.” At his words, you let out a laugh, thinking he was joking. He wasn’t, you soon realized, when he didn’t laugh along with you, looking at you as if you were something he wasn’t worthy of having in his life.

To him, you were just a friend, until you weren’t. It happened so smoothly, so naturally, he didn’t see it coming, until it did. And now, as bad as it may sound, he can’t picture life without you, nor does he want too. But he can’t help the nagging feeling in his gut that something is up with you and your best friend. And that that something is more than capable of Jungkook taking you from him in more ways than one.

But he knows, as you look at him with a look of worry and, dare he say, maybe even a hint of love, he doesn’t have the heart or courage to ruin the seemingly nice evening you three shared by voicing his concerns. It’ll have to wait for another time, when the source of his concern isn’t in the next room.

Your only reply to his statement was to lean up and kiss him softly, yet meaningfully, on his perfect lips. Using your actions, rather than your words you know would only hurt him if you told the truth. And right now? You wanted to enjoy your time with Yoongi, without the lingering thought that is Jungkook, burrowing himself more into your heart and mind like he always does.

Successfully ending the too deep conversation in your current state of mind, you sank into Yoongi and all he had to offer, hands splayed against his chest to keep you upright in his hold. Yoongi returned your affection ten fold, effectively getting lost in you and forgetting where you two were.

A throat clearing behind you is what broke you two apart, both of you coming to your senses as you sheepishly stared at each other as if you got caught doing something worse than what you actually were. Wiping the lipstick that somehow made it onto Yoongi’s lips with your thumb, had the male’s cheeks lighting up in a pale pink hue. The sight had you chuckling fondly at him, before you gave him one last quick peck on the lips. Pulling away for the last time, you patted his chest and stepped away from him to look over at Jungkook.

He stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, looking straight through you at Yoongi with a glint in his eyes you’ve never seen before. Tilting your head into his line of sight, you broke whatever spell he was under. Giving him a ‘you good?’ look, he shook his head at you before gesturing towards the front door and directing his attention back at the host of the now night, seeing as the windows were encased in blackness around you.

“I’m gonna head out. The dishes are by the sink. You can stay if you want, y/n. Wouldn’t want to interrupt anything.” He glowered at you pointedly, a not so subtle jab that you definitely noticed. “I’ve already called for a car, they’re waiting for me outside. So I’ll call you later, okay? Thank you for the nice evening, Yoongi. It was a pleasure to meet you.” He half assed a bow, then gave a shit eating grin and walked out of sight. Shortly after, you heard the tall tale sign of him leaving, as the door opened and closed. The heavy door leaving a loud noise in it’s wake, as it cut through the silence like a knife.

*******

Jungkook would contact you a few days later. When you asked what made him suddenly drop off the face of the planet after your evening at Yoongi’s, he used the ruse of working on a ‘new project’ as his excuse of ignoring your texts and calls. You didn’t believe him, but you humored him anyways. The reason he called you, however, was because he had a model that cancelled on him last minute, and he was in desperate need of another. So, naturally, he thought about you, his best friend who could never say no to any of his requests, especially when it came to something as important as his art.

He didn’t really explain what it is you had to do, but you trusted him fully, so you didn’t really care. Sending you the address to his own new art studio, he told you to come over as soon as possible. Thankfully, it was only 20 minutes away from your place, so the ‘as soon as possible’ request was possible to accomplish.

When you arrived to his studio, you were let in by his assistant who was leaving for the day. He told you Jungkook was finishing up a previous project and wanted you to wait for him in the main lobby area. Though walking into the lobby, you were surprised. The ambience of the place exuded a romantic aura. The lights were dimmed and there’s even a bottle of bubbly sitting in a bucket of ice cubes on a table in the middle of the room, but no glasses. Weird.

Looking around the spacious room, it’s tidy and modern. You can see his artistic taste shine in the way it’s decorated. You couldn’t wait to get a tour of the rest. Just as you went to touch one of the many statues that littered the room, you could hear footsteps behind you. Pivoting in your heels, you came face to face with a grinning Jungkook who held two wine glasses in his hands. Ah, so that would explain the missing glasses.

Holding his arms out to his sides, you noticed his loose tank top he was wearing was splattered with various colors of paint along with his worn out jeans, a tall tale sign that he was finishing up an art project like his assistant told you. Some paint even made it onto his face, which had you lightly giggling at his appearance, but you were used to it.

“What do you think of the place?” He asked you, genuinely curious of your opinion that he held in high regards, knowing you would never lie to him. One of the many things he liked about you, you were blunt, yet honest.

“Wow, it looks great in here!” Your voice and facial expressions showed pure awe and admiration. You only wished you had a sliver of his artistic taste to decorate your own place as simple, yet luxurious as this. “Looks like you have a little more than just a photo shoot prep in mind…” you trailed off, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and coy smile. Being a model, you naturally assumed his new art project had to do with a photo shoot, one of the many ways he created art.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Jungkook? I don’t think Yoongi or Isla would like that very much.” You playfully jested at him, as he set the glasses down on the table to uncork the wine.

“Oh, absolutely.” He cheekily threw at you, winking at you and laughing heartily. His eyes meet yours as he straightens up and once again holds both wine glasses in his hands to walk towards you, his expression becoming more genuine.

Once he’s in front of you, he offers you one of the glasses that you graciously take and swallow a big swig of. You needed it after your own grueling day of work you had yesterday, working with a photographer that was infamous for his harsh critiques during his photo shoots as he strived to get the best pictures possible. You initially wanted to vent to your best friend, but when he refused to answer you, you decided to vent to Yoongi instead, who was more than happy to lend you a listening ear. His comforting words and presence alone, stifled the anger and self deprecating thoughts you held, and for the first time ever, you both spent the rest of the evening in his bed tangled in sheets. It was everything you dreamed it would be, and more.

“I mostly wanted to make it up to you for bailing on you so suddenly.” His face looked sullen as he swirled the wine in his glass gently before taking a sip of his own. “And anyways, who’s to say we can’t get some work done, and have some quality time together simultaneously?”

“I’ll cheers to that!” You lifted your glass towards his as you both clinked them together and took another big gulp in sync.

“I even have something else in mind, other than the usual photo shoot.” He said it with a mysterious tone, making you narrow your eyes at him with caution. Just what exactly did he have up his non-existing sleeves? “You wanna hear it?” The excitement he now showed in his voice and facial expression was infectious. You’re curious to see what he has planned for you, which is exactly what you tell him.

“My big priority for tonight is color tests. I was hoping you’d let me practice on you?” His usual confident demeanor turned into a shy one right in front of your eyes, only getting worse with his following explanation that made your eyes widen and cheeks burn under the low light of the room. “Your back would make the perfect canvas for this.”

“Am I going to have to stand very, very still for this?” As much as you loved helping him, you were going to dread having to stand in one spot for potential hours.

“Stand?” He echoed you with a deep chuckle. “No, no! We’re going to use my bedroom.”

“Bedroom?” This time it was you echoing his response. What bedroom is he talking about? Not that you weren’t familiar with his bed, having innocently crashed in it with him on multiple occasions. But it never related to anything needed for his art, so you were very intrigued now.

“Do you want me to show you where I get my best work done?” He asked you with a raise of his brow.

“My interest is peaked. By all means.” You gestured at him with your almost empty glass of wine, before chugging the rest. He followed suit and grabbed your glass from you to set them both back on the table.

Jungkook then walks past you, waving at you to follow him as he does. He leads you down the same path he took to get to you in the lobby, but this time in the opposite direction, towards his bedroom. One, he explained during the short walk there, he had in case he needed to stay over night and finish up any projects at the studio. Stepping into the bedroom, he waits for you to walk inside before he turns to you to speak.

“First, let me get a little more comfortable and keep the mess to a minimum.” He winks at you, reaching back behind him to grab the material of his shirt, his elbows now on either side of his ears, effectively making his muscles strain from the action as he pulls his shirt off. You would think the sight would have you hot and bothered, cause normally, it would. Now that you have Yoongi, however, whose body is just as delectable, if not moreso than the male’s in front of you, to satiate your sexual desires, you don’t even flinch.

A realization that Jungkook notices, having secretly always watched your facial expressions to him undressing in front of you with a hidden sense of power over knowing he could get that kind of lust filled reaction out of you. Not that he would ever act on it, of course, having a girlfriend. His pants pool to his feet next, that he kicks off somewhere unceremoniously. And now he’s left in nothing other than his short, skin tight, black, boxers. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t sneak a peak at the very obvious bulge that was prominent within the confines of his boxers, both a blessing and a curse in your opinion, of just how endowed Jungkook is.

Waiting for his instructions, you stood there, stiffly. All of the sudden feeling very overdressed, and slightly uncomfortable with the whole scenario. But you agreed to help Jungkook, and if this is what he needed, you would oblige him.

Pointing over to the bed with a lazy finger, he gave you your first instructions.

“Can you lay down on your stomach for me and just get comfortable?” He asked you, fully giving you the chance to back out and say no if you wanted too. You didn’t. Having avoided looking at the rather large object in the room, the bed, you now saw that all the blankets were shoved off for the occasion. And there was even an equally as large, white, silk sheet that was draped over the entirety of the bed that you would be laying on top of.

You crawl your way to the middle of the bed and lay face down, your head laying comfortably on one of his pillows that was conveniently left. You can feel the bed dip as Jungkook makes his way on the bed himself. He takes the position of straddling you, his butt coming to sit directly on top of yours. In one hand, he already has a paintbrush, and occupying his other hand is his palette of various colors of paint. It’s all you can make out, from the little bit of peripheral you have on either side of you, of his figure due to your current angle.

“You good? You comfy? I’m not too heavy for you?” His onslaught of questions came with a joking tone, but you knew that he was genuinely concerned for your well being, wanting you to be comfortable every step of the way.

Jungkook’s weight on your lower back isn’t uncomfortable, but despite your previous feelings, you can’t help how fast your heart starts beating as he relaxes in his position on top of you.

You take a deep breath in and snuggle into his pillow. It smells like Jungkook — fresh, herbal, soothing.

“Very comfy.” Your voice was already coming out in a sleepy tone by how relaxed you felt, but you were wide awake.

“Perfect. I’m ready to get started, if you are?” This was it. Your last chance to bail out if you wanted too. Once again, you steeled your nerves and pressed on. For Jungkook, and for his art, you nod at him, giving him your final answer.

He grabs the bottom of your shirt and begins peeling the material off your back, pushing it up until it rests directly above your shoulders. You shiver slightly as his hand brushes your skin, the contact feels electric, and you wonder if he felt it as well.

“Your body is so amazing.” His low tone doesn’t come off sultry, but moreso it’s one of awe. You dig your head deeper into the pillow, feeling a wave of excitement go throughout your entire body at his blunt, but honest, words. Easing the tension that filled the air, you replied with a nervous laugh.

“You haven’t even begun painting yet!”

“Look, y/n.” His voice was still low, but also soft, and equally as persistent as he continued his heartfelt statement. “I know art when I see it.”

Rolling your eyes at yourself, you decided to humor the male.

“If you think it’s art now, I can’t wait to see it after you work your magic.”

“It’s like you’re giving me a head start.” With that final comment of him admiring your bare back, he begins his work. slowly at first, but then building with intensity. You try to imagine what the painting looks like, but you find your eyes wandering around the room. It feels like you understand Jungkook a little bit more as you take in the details of the space around you.

The room is tidy, but the longer you look, the more you notice. The art on the walls, the plants by the window, the trinkets tucked away on shelves. They were all whispers of Jungkook’s taste and passions. Eclectic, but tranquil. You’re surprised by the neatness, his creative energy seems like it would always leave a mess, but the bedroom feels curated and well kept. While he works, he effortlessly makes conversation with you, one of the only people who makes it easy to initiate a conversation with. His voice is soft, yet low, and you feel safe.

“You should tell me more about yourself. I want to get to know you better.” This has your brows furrowing in confusion. Know you better? Doesn’t he already know you?

“Uh, like what?” You ask, clueless as to what he means.

He ‘hmms’ thoughtfully, before responding.

“What are you looking for in a relationship these days?”

What?

You decide to answer his question truthfully.

“I’m looking for someone I can confide in.” Though you can’t see, he stares at your back in wonderment, inwardly checking off a list he has in his mind that pertains to himself, knowing that you confide in him all the time. It gives him hope, until you utter out your next words, not yet done with your line of thought. “Like a best friend, you know? If you’re not there for each other, nothing else matters.” His face falls, then once again contorts into one of concentration as he focuses on a few strokes of his paintbrush, watching as it glides over your skin. The action somehow feeling more intimate with the deep conversation that accompanied it.

He nodded in agreement, before realizing you couldn’t see him nod, and instead answered verbally for your benefit.

“Yep. I totally understand.”

“I’m just over people who don’t see me as a friend and equal in the relationship.”

His brows furrowed at your words, not knowing you felt that way about relationships. But he agreed wholeheartedly with you.

“I don’t think it would be possible for me to relate to that harder.”

Now this has you staring at the wall ahead of you, lost in your own little world. Is this how he was really feeling with Isla? Was she not treating him right? Confiding in him? Seeing him as an equal? You hoped you were wrong, but the way he said it with such conviction and mirth, you couldn’t help but think it was true. And that alone made your heart drop into your stomach, cause you wanted nothing more than for Jungkook to find someone who treats him as if the sun shines out of his ritually bleached asshole. Not that you judged him for it, accompanying him various times to get the action done yourself.

“What about you, Jungkook?” He didn’t miss the way your voice softened as you asked him the same question he just asked you. “What are you looking for?”

“Well, I’m kind of looking for something pretty serious.” Your lips pursed at that, knowing he got recently engaged, so of course that would be his answer. Plus, he always told you how important it was for him to build both a family and legacy.

“And honestly? I think I’ve found what I’m looking for in yo–,” his eyes widened as he coughed to cover up his mistake of almost slipping up and saying ‘you’, instead of his fiancée’s name. “–in Isla.” He finished with a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing that was far from the truth, but he was already in too deep to change his mind and actually follow his heart. The one that always wanted you.

Jungkook sets down his paintbrush briefly to say this, emphatically separating his words from the task at hand, making you believe it more. His voice, to you, sounding sincere. It causes a deep pit in your stomach to form, as you try your best to cover up your true emotions to wish your best friend well.

“That’s great, Jungkook. I’m glad you found your happiness in Isla. It must be nice knowing you for sure found your happily ever after.” Laced with fake enthusiasm that went unnoticed, Jungkook grimaced, wanting nothing more than to say what he truly felt over the matter, but bit his tongue instead, knowing he can’t. Did this mean though, that you don’t believe you’ve found your own happily ever after in Yoongi? He had to ask. So, he did. Your reply shocked him to his core.

You blame the wine, you blame the intimacy of it all, you blame how safe Jungkook makes you feel, and you, for the first time in your 6 years of knowing him, bare your soul to your best friend.

Letting out a forced laugh, your eyes start to water, once again blaming something other than your feelings for the tears that wanted to shed and cleanse you of your prolonged guilt and affection. You were thankful that he couldn’t really see your face at his current angle, or you his, for what you say so shamelessly.

“Wanna know something funny?” You start out with a light, playful tone. One that makes Jungkook chuckle awkwardly in response to yours. “From the very first day I knew you were going to be someone special in my life. I just didn’t realize until it was too late, that it would filter out into me being ridiculously, madly, in love with you.” You gave out another light, now watery, laugh. One that this time, Jungkook did notice.

His eyes softened on your figure, suddenly becoming much more aware of how intimate this all was for two supposedly ‘best friends’. And now, he instantly regretted inviting you over to do this in his bedroom of all places. It was wrong of him, and deep inside he knew it was wrong, yet he did it anyways. It just made him feel more like shit with your sudden confession of love, one he’s waited all his life to hear fall from your supple lips. He just wished it was under better circumstances, like you both being single and not in your own, separate, relationships. His being one that was serious. Getting married, serious.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He didn’t know what to say, and cautiously, he continued with his brush strokes. For a moment, you hear only paintbrush on skin and the sound of Jungkook’s breathing. Your lips pursed at his silence, and you regretted saying anything, but powered on in hopes of him finishing his work on your back soon. If he still didn’t want to stop after your raw confession, than you wouldn’t let it effect you either.

“With Yoongi, I do feel needed. I feel cared for. I feel heard. I feel safe. I feel loved. But–,” letting out a quiet sigh you continued, reluctantly. “I’m not sure if I see a future with him, yet. I’m just taking it day by day and hoping for the best. You know?” You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. Giving your answer, and deeming it acceptable, Jungkook opted to change topics.

“What about if we went away to relax? Let’s say I whisked you away for a weekend. Where would you want to go?” The sudden change in topic made your body sag into the silk sheets with relief, knowing he was atleast trying to help you ease the tension that hung in the air around you both, thickly.

It was your turn to ‘hmm’ in thought.

“Somewhere you could show me around the art scene.” It was such a simple request, yet held so much weight to Jungkook, his heart soaring at your suggestion.

“You just made my heart explode a little bit.” He chuckled fondly.

“It would be awesome! An insider look at an artsy city? You’d be the best tour guide.” He felt touched by your confidence in him.

“Thanks for trusting my knowledge in art. I think I have pretty good taste.” He boasted a little at the end, making you scoff in amusement.

“You must! I mean, you think I’m art.”

“I think you’re a masterpiece, huge difference.” He stated it so casually, and matter of factly, butterflies began to make a home in your once pit of a stomach.

Now bent over, holding himself over you with one hand, as he focuses on the little details of his artwork on your back, his breath is hot on your ears as he speaks. It sends a chill down your spine. He’s obviously deep in the flow of his work, you can feel the paintbrush moving in passionate strokes, leaving cool paint across your back. Your conversation may now be innocent, but the combination of the paintbrush that’s now on the small of your back, Jungkook’s hushed voice, and your position in bed, has you feeling tingly all over.

His next question breaks you out of your not so innocent thoughts.

“What if we could go anywhere in the world?”

“Somewhere with a lot of history.” You instantly reply, not needing to even think of your answer. “Like, give me something straight up ancient.” You emphasized the last word with excitement.

“How come?” Not the answer he was expecting, but he was genuinely curious.

“Historical sites inspire me so much. I think it’s so cool that some places hold centuries or millennia of history, and countless people’s stories. More than you and I could ever know.” Your genuine passion and excitement shine through in your words, making him grin fondly at you. You were unique, you were different. He loved it.

“That makes a lot of sense. I love the way you think.”

“What about you? Where do you get inspiration from?” You’re inwardly shocked you never quite directly asked him this question over the years, but it’s better late than never, right?

“Well, nature is a big one…,” he trailed off, wondering if he should finish the natural occurring thought that crossed his mind when you asked your question. He came to the conclusion that you would never judge him, so he said it. “You know, there’s nothing like being nude outdoors, the sun on your skin. Being able to blend in with the flowers and forget about everything. Some of the best camouflage paints are done in nature.” His voice gradually got louder, the more passionate he became with his answer, it was nice to hear.

“Oh wow, I’d love to see that.” You spoke honestly and in earnest. The whole scenario he described sounded so freeing. Something you haven’t felt yourself in a long time.

“Maybe we should explore it together sometime.” He casually suggested, not meaning it in a sexual way at all, you’re sure. But you couldn’t help but prod into his suggestion to gain more info.

“You mean like…get naked outside? I love the way you’re always testing the limits. I hope you can teach me a thing or two.” You truthfully always admired that about him, the way he always thought outside of the box, unlike most artists who chose a more ‘safe’ approach with their art. You always wanted to see things through his eyes, wondering what the world looked like to him. And you always incorporated whatever he so graciously taught you in your own line of work with modeling. Conveying emotions, letting new poses come naturally to you through your body expression, choosing what you wore on the rare occasions that they let you pick your own outfit.

“Give me some time, and I promise I can bring that side out in you, y/n. Cause I know it’s in you, it’s in all of us, if only we look hard enough.” He vowed to you so solemnly, you swooned with a lovesick smile he couldn’t see.

As his words hang in the air, Jungkook finishes his painting test. The final strokes of the paintbrush leave you both breathless, and when you look at the final design in the body length mirror he supplies for you, you see a beautiful pattern weaving green stripes across your back and flowers sprouting from your spine.

It looks fucking amazing. You expected nothing less when it came to Jungkook and his skilled hands. You now felt honored at being his canvas for the day.

You and Jungkook admire his work in the mirror, and after a few moments your eyes come to meet in the reflection. You hold his gaze, the tension between you growing with each erratic beat of your heart.

You want to say something, you want to make a move. Damn the consequences of your actions, if it meant finally succumbing to your feelings and desires you held pent up for so long. But, as fate would have it, before you could muster up the courage, an alarm on Jungkook’s phone cuts through the silence. Jungkook groans in frustration and hurries to shut it off.

“I can’t believe I forgot to disable this before you came over.” He grumbled to himself, both upset and grateful for the interruption. Who knows what might’ve transpired between you two otherwise. Something he’ll think about tonight as he lays his head down on his pillow in an attempt to sleep, which reminds him why he set the alarm in the first place. “Oh, this means it’s late. I spent way longer on that than I originally planned. I just got caught up in the process, I guess.” He chuckled sheepishly, scratching at his neck.

“You had me very close to becoming a very unruly model.” You narrowed your eyes at him playfully through the mirror, watching as he grabbed a washcloth that was close by, soaking in a bucket of warm, soapy, water on the floor. Rather than bending over the entire time to clean your back from the paint, he decided it was better for his back to kneel down behind you, his height still making it possible to reach your entire back.

Taking a picture of your back with his phone first, he gently started the new process of wiping his artwork off your back, scoffing at your insinuation, but playing off of it himself.

“In what way?” Jungkook flashes you a brilliant smile in the mirror as he tries to tease you into saying something more.

“I just imagine it would be difficult to paint if your hands were…otherwise occupied.” You tried to keep your usual, confident, flirty, exterior, but your voice failed you and cracked at the end. If Jungkook noticed, he didn’t say anything, and for that, you’re grateful.

“You’d be surprised what I can accomplish with just some paint and my fingertips.” His coy grin is intoxicating. Despite your best attempts to keep you’re cool, his own insinuation had your cheeks flushing. Your mind now racing to conjure a mental image of him finger painting across your skin, and not Isla’s, whom you’re positive has had your mental fantasy happen on her in real life, more than once.

With one final stroke of the washcloth, your back is now bare once again. You dropped your shirt as it flared around your exposed back before efficiently covering it from the mirror and Jungkook’s eyes.

“As amazing as this has been, we have to call it a night, I’m sorry. I have to get up early tomorrow to meet some models for another project.” He sounds authentically disappointed with your night ending, and if you’re honest with yourself, so are you. It started off rough, and heavy, but ultimately was super relaxing and informative. Finding out new things about Jungkook over the six years of knowing him already, felt good.

He got dressed back up in his tank top and jeans and escorted you back down the hall into the main lobby. Double checking to make sure you had everything, you paused in front of the front door and looked at Jungkook. He’s busy typing something into his phone, texting Isla, you could only assume. Taking the chance of him being distracted momentarily, you lean in to give him the usual kiss on the cheek goodbye.

Apparently you underestimated exactly how into his phone he was. As soon as you got a hair width away from his cheek, did his attention abruptly switch to you. Him angling his face at just the right time to effectively, and unintentionally, capture your lips with his own. Both of your eyes widen as you both pull away from each other in a haste. Mouths open, eyes still wide, you just stare at each other like a deer caught in headlights, not really knowing how to bypass was just happened.

It was his eyes that shifted first, staring into your own with an intensity that had your forehead lining with a light glaze of sweat. Your heart started beating erratically at the insane thought that he might have just actually liked kissing you as much as you liked kissing him.

He must’ve saw something he took as a green light as he searched your eyes, cause the next thing you knew, his lips were clashing against yours once more. In your heart, you knew it was so, so wrong. And truly, you wanted to stop it. But it’s like your brain short circuited, and your body had a mind of its own, as you kissed him back with just as much passion as he was giving you. It’s like everything you both have been holding back all night — no, for years, erupted into this long, heated, spine tingling, toe curling, passionate kiss.

With his hand secured behind your head, he let his phone drop to the floor without a care to pull you closer to him with his other hand now on the small of your back. The kiss held just as much intensity as his gaze did, as he leans his whole body into it, into you. Your hands find purpose on the nape of his neck, your own way of bringing him impossibly closer to you, your own belongings left in a disregarded heap on the floor at your feet. You don’t even notice when your phone incessantly buzzes at you that you’re getting a call from your boyfriend, just like Jungkook fails to see that his fiancée has just texted him back.

Your hands move to caress his back, as if to hold onto this moment for dear life. The one you’ve been waiting for all your life, since the moment you met Jungkook.

When he taps your ass with his hands, giving you a silent signal to jump without breaking the kiss, you do. He grabs underneath your ass effortlessly, his strong arms catching the weight of your body with ease. Your legs straddle his waist, as your arms find new home around his shoulders, your heels digging into his ass to bring him closer.

He grunts into your mouth as he expertly finds his way back to his bedroom, still holding you, somehow finding ways to maneuver you both safely, his eyes staying open during the heated make out session. Yours stayed shut, relishing in the moment.

Even when your back hits the cool, silk sheets, and he hovers over your eventual naked form with a look of pure, unadulterated love and lust, do you still not believe it’s happening. Not even when you feel the delicious snap of his hips against yours and you’re moaning breathlessly into each other’s mouths. Not when he pulls the first orgasm of the night out of you, and watches you come undone with something akin to pride on his face for being the one to garner that sinful and beautiful reaction out of you. Not when you switch positions with him and ride him to one of the most intense orgasms of his life, your name spilling from his lips in a mantra as you witness and feel your own sense of pride of being the cause of his undoing. Not when he flips you both over to give you both one last mind blowing orgasm, as you come undone in sync. Not even when you’re both panting, covered in sweat, and your snuggly pressed into his side with your arm and leg draped over him in a possessive manner. Not when he’s rubbing soothing circles into your arm and whispering promises of his love and the future he knows you’ll both have as you fall asleep to his voice like a lullaby.

And definitely not when you wake up the next morning, cold and alone, the remnants of your lovemaking still embedded in the silk sheets around you. A lone note left on the pillow next to your head, a hasty scribble that you discern is Jungkook’s guilty conscience coming to haunt him.

The words ‘I’m sorry’ mocking you, as your tears cascade down your face, the only sound being the rhythmic pattern of your tear drops as they hit the note that makes you cry out in anger and rip it to shreds, scattering the pieces on the bed around you like confetti. And you know, you just know, that once again, he chose her over you.

The only thing you do believe is that things with Jungkook will never be the same again.

[madame-jupiter]

Prince with the Scalpel Chapter One

Izuku, a renowned doctor and surgeon, dies from an unknown heart condition he had. And ends up waking up in his past life the day after he entered a loveless marriage with King Bakugou Katsuki.

A marriage that a bratty prince Izuku forced upon the king after getting rid of so many suitors vying for Katsuki’s attention and the empty throne beside him. Eventually even scaring off Katsuki’s fiancé that Katsuki had actually loved and cherished.

But Izuku is no longer the same person he used to be.

A prince once more, but the heart of a caring doctor with regrets…

-

-

-

-

“Umm, P-Prince Izuku?” a maid watches silently as Izuku just casually sits, a book in hand. “A-Aren’t you going to see his majesty on his walk?”

“Hmm?” Izuku looks up, a gentle smile on his face. “Nah, I don’t want to bother him.”

The maid is flabbergasted, looking at Izuku like he’s a foreign entity. Well, Izuku doesn’t really blame her.

Regarding how his personality was before, it would seem like his personality made a 180 in just one day.

But, Izuku wants to right some wrongs in his old life that he didn’t think he could amend. The books he’s reading is the political and martial affairs of the Bakugou Kingdom.

He’s trying to find a way to peacefully divorce Katsuki that won’t lead to a war breaking out. At least, from his kingdom and his doting father.

Just then, he catches a little head peeking into his room. Red eyes looking at him in curiosity. Izuku gently closes his book, smiling at the newcomer.

“Hello, you must be Princess Eri.”

The maid looks behind her just as the Princess comes out of her hiding spot.

She’s a small thing, her little hands fiddling with her dress. “H-Hello Prince C-Consort.” She does a curtsy.

Izuku smiles more, but the maid gently reprimands her. “Princess Eri, it’s not lady like to stutter. You need more tutelage in ways of speech, my lady.”

Eri flinches, fiddling with her hands again. Izuku glances up at the maid, starting to remember what a bitch she actually is underneath her “niceness”. “Leave us.”

The maid looks at him. “B-But your-“

“I said leave us. And have another maid come in with tea and snacks.” He then smirks. “It’s not lady like to stutter.”

The maid’s face flushes a bright red, but she does as she’s told. Once she’s gone, he gently beckons for Eri to come to him. The little princess does so. Setting his books aside, he gets out of his chair and bends down to her level.

“You know, I used to stutter a lot when I was your age,” he says, Eri looking at him with wide eyes.

“R-Really?”

Izuku nods. “Yes. I couldn’t pronounce peoples’ names right either. Some words were harder for me to say back then.”

He scoops the princess up by her armpits, settling her down on the sofa. Izuku sits beside her. “If you need any help or anything else, then you are more than welcome to come join me for tea.”

Eri looks down at her dress, once again fiddling with it. “W-Will that be okay…? If I-I come see you… when I’m lonely…?”

Izuku pats her head. “Of course.”

Eri gives him a wobbly smile just as two maids comes in with a tea set and some snacks. If they are surprised to see the young princess and prince consort together, they don’t say anything.

Izuku glances at poor Eri. She is sadly a bastard child between Katsuki’s mother and one of her unofficial male concubines. He just couldn’t remember which one since he never really interacted with the previous queen and her concubines.

But the few times he did, he could honestly say it now that he knows better.

She was a two faced bitch.

She mostly ignored Eri and would belittle Izuku under false complements. He also doesn’t remember Katsuki interacting much with his half sister either.

He watches Eri tentatively take a bite out of a cookie, her eyes shining in delight.

Much like the children Izuku would sneak their favorite snacks to back in the hospital he worked at. He pats her head again.

“Enjoy all that you want, Princess Eri.”

He’ll make sure she’ll have a good life this time.

And not die from a disease like she did before…

-

-

-

-

“It seems like your stalker is busy these days, your Majesty,” pipes up Sero, dodging a blow from Katsuki’s sword. “Haven’t seen him following you around like a lost puppy in days.”

Katsuki grunts, hitting Sero in his unprotected side before the fucker could defend himself. Sero holds his most likely bruised side as Katsuki marches over to an attendant to take his practice sword.

“That bratty prince is nothing but a thorn in my side since this whole bullshit started,” he grunts, taking a towel from another attendant to wipe the sweat off. “Caused so many damn problems. Glad the fucker isn’t around to bother us.”

Just then, Kaminari comes into the training grounds with his arm in a sling.

And a flower crown on his head.

Katsuki glares. “What the fuck is on your head? And why the hell is your arm in a sling?!”

Kaminari laughs, scratching the back of his head. “I had a bit of an accident two hours ago and sprained my wrist badly. The Prince Consort and Princess Eri helped me.”

“Ha?” Katsuki looks at Kaminari like he has lost his mind. “Why the fuck are my sister and that brat doing together?”

Kaminari looks puzzled. “Brat?”

Sero snickers. “I keep forgetting you were away for a while with Shinsou. Midoriya Izuku is known as the Brat Prince.”

“He didn’t seem like a brat to me,” remarks Kaminari, a blush and smile coming across his face. “In fact, if he wasn’t married to our “mighty king” here, I would have taken the kind green haired beauty for myself!”

“I don’t think kind is the word I would use to describe him.”

Kaminari glances at Sero who shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve been stuck with him for a week when his convoy was being escorted here. My Gods, he could complain and wore such expensive clothes too.”

Kaminari blinks. “The clothes I saw him wearing today were what stable boys wear.”

Sero and Katsuki look at him in shock. Then the raven haired knight begins to laugh. “Hahaha! Very funny! The Brat Prince wearing stable boy clothes? You almost got me there!”

“But I’m not-“

Suddenly, some nearby knights scramble to the other side of the training hall where the windows lie. Many have awestruck faces, some pointing in astonishment out the windows.

Katsuki, now irritated, marches over to them. “Alright, what the hell has all of you so fascinated for?!”

A knight strutters out, “T-There’s someone out there riding your horse.”

Katsuki is deathly silent that everyone slowly turns to look at him, waiting for the king’s reaction.

“Someone… is what?!” He hollers out, making the knights jump. “Who the fuck is riding my horse?!” Better yet, who is, besides Katsuki, able ride Inferno?

Inferno, like her name, is a wild one. Katsuki has been the only one in the kingdom to be able to ride her. So who the fuck is-

“I-It’s the… Prince Consort, your Majesty.”

…. What….? How…?!

With the thought of murder on his mind, Katsuki storms out of the training hall and marches his way towards the horse training field. Some squires heading to the hall quickly get out of his way just by seeing the look on his face.

The sounds of other knights and horses reaches Katsuki's ears and he steps onto the field to find himself staring instead of yelling like he had planned on doing.

There he is, the Brat Prince, riding the HIS horse without any difficulty at all. In fact, Inferno looks rather pleased, the prince petting her mane.

"Such a wonderful horse, aren't you?" the prince coos, Inferno eating up all his compliments and Katsuki swears he can see that demonic horse smirking in pride. "She's a pretty horse, isn't she, Eri?"

Eri?

His little half sister is sitting in front of the prince, a smile on her face. In fact, Katsuki doesn't remember the last time his half sister even smiled. She always stood towards the shadows, as to not be seen or heard. Eri glances up at Izuku. "She definitely i-is a pretty horse!"

The prince smiles, one that Katsuki has never seen on his face. Usually the prince's smiles are deceitful and untrustworthy. This smile looks may appear nice, but the king will not let his guard down. Loudly clearing his throat, he gains Eri and the prince's attention.

Eri's smile quickly fades, a nervous look replacing it.

Katsuki doesn't know why, but he feels something bad churn in his gut at her expression. That the moment she sees him, she no longer smiles. The prince, on the other hand, doesn't lose the smile, but it appears forced now.

Like being in Katsuki's prescence is a bother to him.

That the king is nothing more than an eyesore.

Katsuki feels irritated, growling out, "Why the Hell are you on my horse?"

The prince raises a brow, appearing to be feigning ignorance. "Your horse? This sweet thing? Why, I had no idea, your Majesty."

... Your Majesty?

[teabreakpancakes]

hi !! could i request sfw/nsfw hcs for norton, naib and mike with a g/n tsundere reader? 👉👈

I Know You Care Norton, Naib, and Mike with a GN Tsundere! S/O

Genre: Fluff, NSFW

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋

𝐒𝐅𝐖

he thought you hated him at first but as soon as someone even tried vying to get his attention you'd steal him away from them

you started being nice to him but most of the time you'd still act mean and cold

you confessed during a match, norton was ballooned and you saved him before he'd get sent back, the hunter hit him again and you desperately tried saving him.

Before the prospector got sent back he screamed a question at you, still struggling to get out of Geisha's balloon. "Why are you trying so hard to save me?!", the hunter, Geisha, facepalmed at this. "I LIKE YOU YOU FUCKING DUMBASS!" you reply, running away from Violetta who was laughing her ass off. Vera laughs from within the large carnival tent, "They finally confessed, been waiting for a while for that" she giggles, remembering how she tried to make you jealous by trying to flirt with Norton.

norton was shocked, he didn't know someone could actually fall for him of all people

he gradually fell for you the more time you guys spent together

you had your first date in the manor's garden at night

he had to admit that your cooking was absolutely amazing—but when he did say that while you were cooking in the kitchen, he got a cute reaction out of you

"Of c, course my cooking is good, you'll never be able to find someone else that can cook better than me s, so" (Name) stumbles on their words, face getting redder with each passing moment. They turn, dashing out of the kitchen and leaving Norton with their dish. Norton smiles, chuckling before finishing the rest of the food.

he likes to compare you to an angry cat

some of the survivors call you the moody cat and the cat owner as a joke

"Norton! get your moody cat, they're gonna throw a fit if they don't see you!" Vera teases her friend, wagging a ball of yarn they got from Miss Nightingale in front of them. "J, Just DECODE ALREADY!" they scream at her, groaning when they realise they attracted the hunter to them.

he gives you headpats to calm you down—very very effective :)

he loves carrying you around in his arms, he rescues you like that too

he gets a heavy scolding when he gets hurt during matches he actually looks forward to them

he's unfamiliar with the feeling of someone treating him like he's glass but he loves it because it's you

he was elated to find out that he was your first everything, he wants to be your last

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

he doesn't exactly have a lot of experience but boy does he learn quickly

he's very gentle with you so unless you misbehave he won't be rough

he loves overstimulating his little brat :)

you're usually so rude but in bed it all just falls to pieces

he loves it when you beg for him

he teases you in matches, it's always so fun to see you crumble before his very eyes

he only ever wants to make you cry in bed

he loves shutting you up by making you suck on his fingers or his dick

you guys fuck like bunnies because you can't go a few days without being filled up by him

"Since you're always so damn mouthy, why don't you suck on my fingers instead" he crooned, massaging (Name)"s tongue as he continued to grind his hips into them. Muffled sobs left their mouth, eyes hazy and teary as they lay under Norton, body covered in hickeys and bite marks.

𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐁 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐑

𝐒𝐅𝐖

this fucker could see right through you

you act so damn mean but guess what, he can see your ears turning red whenever he's near you

"What's up with that rescue? even Memory can do a better job than you!" (Name) hollered, heat crawling up their neck and ears as the mercenary approached them. Naib arched an eyebrow at them, rolling his eyes, "Maybe you should try learning how to kite the Clerk properly instead of yapping at me like a dog" he retorted, flicking their bright red ear.

he wanted to wait for you to confess but he ended up falling for you while waiting

how could someone be so damned cute and annoying at the same time?!

he sees you as a brat, he calls you brat too—well, he managed to call you brat on accident at first, he started calling you it because he liked your reactions

he confessed during a match, he pinned you to a wall when you passed by him.

"Naib, we have to decode you dumbass" they hiss out, attempting to push the mercenary away despite enjoying being so close to him. Naib tightened his grip on (Name)'s shoulder when they tried to push him off, leaning so their faces were inches apart. "Since it's taking you so damn long to fess up, I'll go first," he growled, "I have feelings for you brat, see? wasn't so hard now was it?" he snarled, eyes staring into theirs.

invites you to train with him just so you can spend more time with him

he loves giving you brief touches on your neck because you always shiver at the slightest touch that lands on your neck or your waist

he slaps your ass when he rescues you

he lets the hunters hit him sometimes just because he wants you to worry over him after the match

(Name) glares down a the mercenary as they wrap bandages around his torso. Naib swallows when their hands graze his abdomen, looking up and staring directly at their face. He smiles lopsidedly, noting how their cheeks flushed at the sight of his nude and wounded upper body.

secretly enjoys getting scolded by you whenever you tell him he's too reckless

between you and him, he thinks he can cook better but you always argue back with him about how you are the better cook

he lets you act like you're the better cook since he adores that stupid smile on your face

some of the new survivors thought you both were a married couple, naib never corrected them since you were both going to get married eventually

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

you are never topping this man

brat tamer, do i need to say more?

he often wonders if you do the things you do because you love getting punished by him

he likes spanking you—with consent, he doesn't actually like hurting you

overstim and edging are his favourite punishments

not experienced, you're actually his very first relationship, doesn't mean he won't learn quickly though

he actually will fuck you in matches if you test him enough

he once bent you over a window and railed you right then and there because you kept teasing him

he has way too much stamina

Naib bit down on the inside of your thigh, fingers still pumping in and out of them as they orgasmed for the umpteenth time. The mercenary smirked, standing up and sucking on his fingers. He groaned at your taste, lust swirling in his blue eyes as he stared down at your trembling figure.

𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐅𝐖

thought you were an asshole but then he realised that you just had a hard time expressing what you really felt

amused to see you try to hide your concern behind a mean front

you were often mean to him and yet you were a very good friend, fucker actually fell in love with you without realising

Mike leaned against the crate, smiling at the sight of you chasing Axe Boy around in a game of tag. 'They'd be a good parent to our kids, wait, our?!?' Mike smile faltered when he realised, he had fallen for his bestfriend.

he's unaffected by how cold and mean you can come off as

you can't lie to him, he just sees through every single thing—it's as if he has a lie detector in his head

he's taught you how to make bombs before

"You add gunpowder and then voilà! we've got a nitro bomb!" he chimed, shaking the ball in front of their starry eyes. "Teach me more!" they uncharacteristically exclaim, eager to learn more from Mike.

you often leave his favourite dishes and treats in front of his door, he always knows it's from you since you're the only one aside from murro who knows what he likes

Mike smiles at the sight of a bag of cookies in front of his door. He shakes his head, "How cute" he says to no one in particular, picking up the bag and closing the door.

he gets scolded by you a lot. it's like the man has a damned death wish

he likes dragging you around to wherever he can be alone with you

he confessed when he asked you to meet him in the garden late at night to watch the stars

he performs tricks in front of you just to see you smile and giggle

he often collects small trinkets just to give them to you

he's short but he's ballsy as hell, he'll even go as far as to mess around with the hunters just to see your reaction

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

he loves the fact that he's the only one that sees you in such a state, crying and begging him for more

mike loves ruining you, making sure you can barely say anything at the very end of each session

he's way too fast, rarely goes slow

he loves making you sit on his face, he enjoys staring at your face while he makes a mess out of you

he doesn't like edging you but he does love overstimming the living crap out of you

Mike hummed into their sex, enjoying how they shivered and cried out due to the overstimulation. He parts from their dripping heat, bending them over the finished cipher machine and lining himself up to their entrance. "'m gonna go in now 'kay? we're on the last cipher so we gotta be quick" he whispers, plunging his cock into them.

you're gonna have to beg him to stop if you want him to stop forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you

he'll fuck you in public if he can, he wants everyone to know that you're his

he loves filling you to the brim with his cum

[yandere--stuck]

Hi! OG 3 day bugsnax player here - holy shishkabug I didn't think I'd be the only one thinking about the crazy situation it'd be to have each pair vying for journalists attention. I guess I'd just like to know what the rest of the grumpuses would be like, Gramble, Wiggle, Beffica, Cromdo, Shelda, maybe even Clumby or Alegander? Man there's a lot of characters - not even getting into if the bugsnax themselves were crazy for the only grump allergic to them, trying to be 'eaten' but being enable

Bugsnax gang!! I hope you like these! Unfortunately I couldn't do the other two bc I don't know/understand them that well. At least not yet! But I hope you like these ^^

---

Though Gramble may seem completely sweet and innocent, he'll still go to the ends of the Earth to make sure the ones he loves are safe and in good paws. He hates to leave you in Sprout's old play area on the beach, but it's the only way the others won't be able to hear you asking for help! Listen, this is for the best, okay? You're family and he loves you! He's doing this out of love. 

He visits often, making sure to equally split his time between you and the barn in town. Gotta make sure his little ones are taken care of, too, you know? And the others would get a bit suspicious if he just up and left town again. He can't just let them find out and try to take you away! 

Wiggle would likely feed into Gramble's behavior, being incredibly giddy at the thought of having you all to themselves. Oh, her Gramble is so smart! She loves to have picnics together in Sprout's old pen, the little Strabby circling you and the couple as they serenade you. Wiggle is absolutely filled with motivation and excitement - imagine it! An album of love songs all made for you and your shared love. Isn't it romantic?

And if you direct Sprout a little too close to any launch pads, the couple make sure to corral or shoo him away. Wouldn't want him getting loose and trying to lead someone in town back to you, would you? Shush, it's okay! You'll realize this is for the best soon enough!

Beffica had been lonely for a long time. Abandoned by her friends and given the cold shoulder by the others in town (likely for good reason), she was elated to find that you considered her hood company! You! Someone she admired! It was so fun talking with you, snooping and spying, or just hanging!

 … Although, she couldn't help but feel the need to brace for the other shoe to drop. One day, the others would get to you and get you to see her as a monster! Beffica couldn't allow it! Those squeebs didn't deserve your time, anyway. Especially not Filbo. She'd threaten or blackmail anyone getting too close to her Bestie… Or something more, if her hunch that you felt the same as her was correct. Nothing a little more snooping couldn't solve!

Cromdo is the type to project his feelings onto you. Saying stuff like, "Your crush is cute, but don't get any ideas," or, "We make a good team, yeah! But, er, that doesn't mean I wanna go pick out curtains." He cares for you, but either deflects or hides it behind jokes. He's had a rough past with Grumpuses he's cared about before. He doesn't want to get burned again… But, ah, hell! You're too cute for him to resist! The moment he gets that Mothza Supreme, he's hitching that baby to your ship and sailing outta here! With you tied up, if need be. Er, the moment he fixes it, of course! Did you really think he went up there just to do the wiggle every night?

Shelda is so sure that Mother Naturae has destined you and her union! At least, so she says. Whether she believes what she says or not, it certainly cements the idea in Chandlo's mind, leading her student to follow you around like a puppy and excitedly telling you that, "You and Shelda are meant to be, dawg!" 

And though she does love Chandlo as her pupil, Shelda calls you her most prized pupil. A kind heart, a keeper of the path, and someone so willing to help her. She's incredibly touchy-feely, too, to an uncomfortable degree. C'mon, you know you'd be perfect together. Might as well speed up the inevitable, dear.

[thewordswewrite]

Hawkins Prison Blues

Pairing | Steve Harrington x HoppersDaughter!Reader

Summary | A simple delivery turns into a night of unresolved feelings as you find the one and only Steve Harrington locked in Hawkins Police Station's one and only jail cell

Warnings | explicit language, angst, extensive talk about parental relationships

W/C | 6.3k

A/N | Well I am in no way anti-Hopper, this fic seems to be (oops). This takes place the night of the Snow Ball after Steve drops off Dustin. The reader is Hopper's second daughter and for inclusivity sake, I did not specify how she came to be Hopper's daughter and there are many ways to have kids so please freely imagine yourself here! - saph

“That’ll come out to five ninety-eight, would you like to pay cash or card?”

“Cash.”

The lights on the faded menu flicker as you pull around to the next window, tapping your hand on the car door to the beat of the music. Warm air rattles out of the heater, chugging alongside the music. Your watch reads eight o’clock and besides the one van in front of you that reeks of weed, you haven’t seen another car since you left the house. No,, parents and kids alike, had long since settled down in the school lot for the infamous Snow Ball. The middle schoolers were experiencing their first major dance while kiss-asses from Hawkins High were vying for chaperone spots, trying to scrounge up a little extra-credit for the end of the semester. Parents, including your father, were busy with send-offs, polaroids and potlucks as they watched another big milestone pass them by.

Jane had looked beautiful, you couldn’t deny that, especially as you–against your father’s wishes–helped her add a bit of your makeup to her look. Yes, she was beautiful, far more than you had been at your first Snow Ball. You hadn’t even worn a dress. You hadn’t even owned a dress. But nothing but the best for daddy’s little girl.

“Whopper with a small fry and a coke?”

“Yep, thanks.”

You pull the greasy bag into the car and dump it onto the passenger seat. The smell fills the car instantly and you roll down the windows letting the crisp winter air take you somewhere else. The route to the station had been second nature about a month after you earned your license; you didn’t need to think to get where you were going. A dangerous habit sure, but tension coiled around your muscles, and you didn’t want to think at all let alone about anything to do with your dad.

Unfortunately, it was him who had called from the station just as you had finished your shift at Tiff’s, not bothering to detail the ‘emergency’ that had him leaving home so suddenly. Despite the shouting in the background of the call, clearly said ‘emergency’ hadn’t been as pressing as your dad had made it out to be, considering you’re busy delivering Burger King to the chief of police rather than relaxing in bed with a book.

When you pull up, Calvin and Phil are already gone, the absence of their squad cars further confirming the suspicion that there really is no good reason for your dad, or you, to be out here at this hour. You’d be lying if you said you were surprised. You know what ‘emergencies’ are code for: shit you don’t get to know about.

You shove the door open with a grunt, the hinges sticking with the cold. “Dad?”

“Yeah, in here.”

Dropping the bag down on his desk, you flop down into the chair usually reserved for petty criminals and pissed off neighbors and toy with the nameplate sat in front of you. Jim Hopper.

“Mm, thanks for this,” He says between bites.

“Yeah, no problem,” You sigh, stealing a fry from his makeshift plate, hope for a simple conversation simmering in your chest. “Is that all or…”

“Yeah, just…ah, shit.” He brings his watch closer to his face and bursts up from his chair. Haphazardly, he scrapes the rest of his meal into the trash beside his desk. “I gotta pick up eh, Jane from the dance.” He mutters a few more expletives under his breath before tossing a key ring into your hands. “Could you lock up for me?”

“Th-the station?”

“Yeah, you’ve got it.”

“I don’t think I should-”

“Thanks!” Your dad calls as he pushes out the door. You slump down, rubbing your forehead. The familiarity of the situation wasn’t lost on you. It wasn’t the first time your father had run off, citing Jane as the explanation. Jane the ‘foreign exchange student’ turned ‘sister.’ You’d all about given up trying to understand how your life had come to change in the course of a year.

“Hop? Hopper? You can’t just leave me here! Hello?”

The muffled shouts come from the back of the station. Your instincts tell you to search the desks for something to defend yourself, that is until you realize exactly where the shouts are coming from: the cells.

“Hopper!”

“Steve?”

Standing in front of you is Steve “The Hair” Harrington, King of Hawkins High, banging on the bars of the one jail cell available to the drunks of Hawkins, Indiana. You burst out laughing, taking in the disheveled look of him, his hair unkempt, and maroon sweater stained.

“C.K.! Oh my god, you have no idea how happy I am to see you!” Chief’s Kid. You hated that name and you thought you’d reminded him of that enough times to get through that thick layer of hairspray clouding his brain. You stop laughing just as suddenly as you started and turn to leave, flipping him off as you make your way to the door. “Wait, wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m just-just, so relieved you're here. Please, please, don’t go!”

“Give me one real reason I should stay,” You huff, leaning against the door frame.

“Because we’re friends and-” You turn away again, scoffing. “Okay, okay, because I’m starving and I-I’m freezing in here and you are a very, very, generous person.” His eyes are wide and bloodshot, staring at you in utter desperation.

“What do you want me to do about that?”

“Well, you could let me out?” He makes an attempt on turning on that smile, the one that even made goody-two-shoes Nancy Wheeler, amongst others, fall for him. But you’ve seen it before. It had almost worked then but definitely wasn’t going to work now.

“I’m not doing that.”

The smile drops, falling flat. “Why not?”

“Let’s see,” You begin, tapping a finger on your chin, “My father put you in here, for what I’m sure is a very good reason and frankly, I just don’t like you.” You almost tacked on an ‘anymore’ but decided he didn’t deserve to know he was ever in your good graces.

“I promise you, it’s not a good reason!” Steve leans his head between the bars of the cell, grimacing.

“You-you promise?” You scoff. Placing your hands on your knees, you bend over, making an exaggerated show of laughing. “That’s a good one.” He shakes his head and brushes his hair out of his face with an open palm.

“C.K.-”

“You’re a liar, Steve Harrington.”

“I’ve never lied to you.” His voice is strained and he moves away from the bars, instead flopping down on the wooden bench that serves as the cell’s only furniture. You think about leaving him here, maybe even turning off the lights as you go, letting him serve whatever sentence he earned himself in the dark. You aren’t exactly on your father’s side as far as his judgment goes but you figure your feelings for Steve align strongly with that of Jim Hopper.

“What are you here for anyway? Did ‘slaying demon dogs’ suddenly become a crime?”

“First of all, it’s demodogs and second-,” Steve stands again as you move closer to your cell, “I…” He falters, the cocky look leaving his face. “I plead the fourth.”

“It’s the fifth.”

“The fifth of what?” He shakes his head incredulously.

“It’s ‘I plead the-,’ you know what, you’re an idiot.”

“I’ve heard that one before.”

~

You sit at the counter, resting your head in your hand as the fluorescent lights flicker above you. Tiff’s Diner is usually a hotspot for kids on a night like this but every other person your age is Tina’s Halloween party while you spend your night with the latest Danielle Steel and a dozen empty booths. It’s not like you weren’t invited. All the other kids knew you were Chief Hopper’s daughter and they knew better than to leave you out. Tiff had even offered to let you take the night off, knowing there wouldn’t be any business anyway. But your dad was gone and you didn’t like being alone with Jane anyway plus it wasn’t as if anyone at the party was missing you either, why not make a few extra bucks on an easy night.

The jingle of the door’s bell made you jump, having been lost in your novel and frankly, not expecting anyone for the rest of the night. The boy in front of you removes his sunglasses and pushes them up into his hair. You didn’t recognize his face per se but you’d know that hair anywhere. You sit up straighter and shove your book out of the way. With his eyes unhidden, you can see the sadness in them now and even more so accompanied by the frown on his face.

“Welcome to Tiff’s,” You sigh. “Take Out or Dine-In?”

“Haven’t really decided that yet,” Steve says, squinting up at the menu above you. The longer you look at him the worse he looks, especially bathed in fluorescent light.

“Well, you better hurry,” You warn, smirking, “I might run out of tables.” He laughs, leaning on the counter.

“I guess I’ll have to Dine-In, then,” Steve decides, winking, “while I still can.” He rattles off his order and you head into the kitchen to wake up Sal, the one cook still left on duty. He wakes with a start and it takes him a bit to realize you actually have an order for him. Once Sal is actually up and cooking Steve’s order, you grab a Coke and head out to your one and only customer. “Hostess and waitress, huh?”

“What can I say, I’m talented.” You slide his drink over to him but you remain standing at the booth, unsure if you’re welcome to sit. When you turn to go, Steve suddenly huffs out a breath and continues the conversation.

“I know you’ve got a lot of demanding customers but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind keeping me company?”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend for that?” You ask, taking a seat across from him. Normally when you’ve seen Steve, at Tiff’s or in the halls, he’s had Hawkins’ golden girl, Nancy Wheeler on his arm.

“I'm kind of on the fence about that right now,” He sighs, taking a sip of his drink. An ‘I’m sorry’ finds itself at the tip of your tongue but that doesn’t seem right. You didn’t want to help him mourn a relationship he might still have.

“That’s bullshit.”

“Yeah,” Steve scoffs, digging his palms into his already reddened eyes.

“So, Risky Business?”

“Huh?”

“Your costume.” You gesture to his outfit.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve smiled. “I didn’t think anyone would know. Especially without my escort.”

“The glasses give it away,” You laugh.

“And what are you dressed as, C.K.?”

“Don’t,” You snap. “Don't’ call me that,” You warn, softer.

“Got it.” He raised his arms in surrender. You tap your foot, cursing yourself for ruining what you had going. “Dana from Ghostbusters?” You raise an eyebrow at him until you remember what you were talking about.

“I’m not wearing-”

“Oh, I know! Ariel from Footloose.”

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

~

You twirl the key ring around your finger. “I’m sure you’ll hear it again.”

“Can I at least get something from the vending machine?” Steve pleaded. “Then you can leave.”

“I don’t need your permission to-” He put on a pout and his classic puppy-dog eyes, clasping his hands together to beg. “You got your wallet?” A hand slips through the bars, dangling a five dollar bill in your direction. You grab it from him gingerly and trudge down the hall to the vending machines. After inserting the bill, you start pressing numbers, trying to recall what he used to get at the movies. You get your five dollars worth and head back to his cell.

“See, so generous,” Steve croons as you pass the snacks through the open-spaces. “I didn’t think you were going to come back,” He huffs. Peeling off the wrapper of a candy bar, he slips you half like he always does–did–not even looking up to see if you’ll take it. And you do, popping it in your mouth as you sit cross-legged in front of the cell. “So, where’s the bigger Hop?”

“Taking care of his new favorite daughter,” You mutter, taking the handful of chips Steve offers you. “I’m surprised you didn’t already know that.” The smile on his face falls.

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Well, you just seem to know everything about my life before I do.”

“You know that I-” You put up a hand to stop him.

“Just stop.”

The two of you sit in silence as Steve eats his vending machine dinner. He offers you more but you don’t accept it, remembering all that had happened in such a short time, not that long ago and the fact that Steve had somehow been in the center of it all.

“I, uh, drove Dustin to the Snow Ball, you know, before I got arrested,” Steve explains between Doritos. He laughs to himself, “I have to say he looked pretty good. He might be ‘the Hair’ of Hawkins Middle.” You can’t help but join him in tentative laughter, thinking of Dustin’s unruly curls.

~

You walk down the street, matching Steve’s stride as he hands you half of his candy bar.

“You could’ve told me you’d already seen it,” He huffs, running a hand through his hair. You pat him on the back as he pouts.

“Well, you hadn’t,” You offer, “and it was even better the second time.” You nearly bump into him as he stops abruptly, seemingly not even noticing that he stopped walking. Following his gaze, your eyes land on the Wheeler house. You pat him on the back again. The other night at Tiff’s diner he had spilled it all to you, all of Nancy Wheeler’s ‘bullshit.’ You’d thought maybe it was just because you were a stranger and who did you have to tell his secrets to anyway? But then he came back the next day and then he’d asked you to the movies and well, you still hadn’t quite figured out whatever had led to him attaching himself to you so fast.

“Steve!”

Coming down the driveway is a younger boy, his brown curly hair sticking out from under his hat and headphones combo. He trudges right up to the pair of you, out of breath.

“Hey,” The boy acknowledges you briefly before turning back to Steve, “I hope you’re not on a date. We have bigger problems than your love life.” You sputter out a laugh as the boy continues to walk down the sidewalk, now with Steve in toe. “Do you still have that bat?”

Steve looks back at you, mouthing ‘I’m sorry,’ and you shrug, waving as he runs after the boy.

~

“So, you went from being a middle-schooler’s chauffeur to being an inmate in a matter of hours?”

“Listen, I was drunk, okay?” Steve lays across the floor of the cell, tossing his crumpled up chip bag like a baseball. “Still kinda am.” He flips so that he’s laying on his side, propped up by his elbow, and poses for you like a playboy model. You lay on the floor beside him, staring up at the ceiling.

“So, what? My dad arrested you for underage drinking? In Hawkins?” In small town Indiana, underage drinking is commonplace and you know your dad; he’s not going to do anything that takes more effort than it’s worth. “The law” hasn’t been your dad’s top priority, not for years, and neither have you.

“Well, it’s not just that,” He sighs, covering his face with his hands. “Let’s just say you might want to look into window repair services.” You hadn’t noticed before but as Steve hides his face in embarrassment you can see the gauze wrapped haphazardly around his palm. Reaching through the bars, you snatch his hand to see the crimson bloom of blood soaked up by the bandage

“You broke my window in your what, your drunken escapades? You trying to lose a hand?” Steve puffs out a laugh which sends you reeling back. “Jesus, what’ve you been drinking? Your breath smells like death!” When his other hand moves from his face, you see what you hadn’t cared to notice before. Not only were his eyes bloodshot but they were enveloped in dark circles. His jaw was beginning to be overshadowed by stubble in a way you’d never seen. His shirt, his shoes, his pants were all dirtied. “Jesus.”

“Sorry, let me just go freshen up…oh, wait.” You shake your head, ignoring him as you unwrap the gauze from his hand, his face turned up in a wince. You gingerly cup his shaking hand with your own, rubbing circles into his knuckles to calm him as you finish unwrapping the gauze.

“This needs to be cleaned,” You scold, already getting up to find the nearest first aid.

“Hey, you take that up with the big Hop!”

“Would you stop saying that?” You lay out the kit in front of the cell. “Sit up and come closer,” You demand.

“You know you could just let me out, right?” Steve raises an eyebrow at you, gesturing towards the key ring that now hangs from your belt loop.

“I have you right where I want you. Now, come’ere.” He sits cross-legged right on the edge of the bars, snaking his arm through as he had before. You pour antiseptic onto a cotton pad and press it gently to his palm.

“Fuck,” Steve hisses, grabbing your elbow with his other hand.

“Just breathe,” You hum, “It’s only for a second.” He leans his head against the bar, eyes closed. “So, what exactly were you trying to do when you broke my window?”

“Well, I was just trying to get your attention, you know, like always.”

~

You pull your headphones off, still hearing that consistent tapping that you convinced yourself was just part of the song. Pausing your tape, you listen more intently, trying to figure out exactly where the noise was coming from. It took another minute before you heard it again. You ran over to the window just in time to see a handful of pebbles hitting the glass.

“Steve?” Sticking your head through the open window, you can see him clearly now, bent down to grab his next handful of pebbles.

“Finally!” He throws his hand in the air dramatically, spinning in a quick circle. “I tried to just come right in but you’ve got your window locked. That’s smart. You never know what kinda creeps are out there.” Steve grunts as you pull him through the window, at first you think in effort, until you see his face.

“Jesus Christ!” His face was bruised and swollen with bandages randomly placed on whatever cuts they would fit on. The area near his nose was especially affected and you feared it might be broken. “I’m gonna throw up.”

“It’s good to see you too.”

“What the hell happened to your face?” He sat on the edge of your bed, fiddling with your walkman. You riffled through your drawers, trying to find some first aid.

“Billy Hargrove.”

“What the new kid? What problem does he have with you?” Your search was futile. You would have to risk going out into the bathroom and maybe the kitchen for some ice. “Forget it. Just stay here and keep quiet.”

You tiptoe out of your room, avoiding the parts of the wood floor you knew were the creakiest. Poking through the freezer, you find a long since forgotten bag of peas and shove them under your arm. You also open one of the drawers and pull out a pair of scissors for the inevitable bandaging you’d be stuck with. Finally, you sneak into the bathroom and grab some gauze, cotton pads, antiseptic and q-tips.

“What do you need all that for?” Your dad calls from the couch causing you to freeze. Turning to look at him, you feel a stab of envy. Cradled in his arms is a sleeping Jane. Jane, who you’ve long since stopped asking questions about. Jane who’s now into the punk scene and also covered in blood? Nosebleeds. Right.

“I’ve uh, I’ve got my period,” You mutter, “It’s real rough. Gross shit, really. I’ve got it covered.”  You shove your bedroom door closed, not giving him a chance to say more. Somehow, your father was most attentive when you wanted, no, needed him not to be.`

When you step into your room, Steve is lying on the bed, half asleep by the looks of it. If your father wasn’t home, and you weren’t so afraid he might be passing out, you would just let him stay and sleep it off. But you scoop a hand under his back and sit him back up, listening to his groans all the while. You start to dab away at the wounds as he hisses and whines with every touch.

“You’ve got to stay facing me,’ You sigh. You wouldn’t be able to get any work done if he didn’t stop squirming.

“Shit,” Steve choked as you dabbed at the wound above his eyebrow.

“Here.” You maneuver yourself until you're straddling him, leaving him with nowhere to turn away from. He hesitates for a minute, looking up at you with wide eyes until his hands find a place propped under your thighs, supporting you from atop his lap. This time when you tend to his wounds he just tightens his hold, his fingers digging into your thighs.

“Just breathe,” You tell him, “Just breathe.”

~

“And a few pebbles managed to shatter my window?”

“Well, I was reaching for the pebbles,” Steve huffs, “but I actually just kinda, ya know…grabbed a rock.” He toys with his fresh bandage and you slap his hand away.

“God, you’re shit-faced.”

Both of you find your positions laying on the ground again, this time in silence. You consider leaving again, letting him finish out his punishment in solitude; after all, it’s what he deserves. Even if you did free him, then your dad would be on your ass and you’d much rather be the ass for leaving Steve in a cell. After a while of going over his story in your mind, you sit up.

“Wait, why were you drinking anyway?” Steve rolls over to his side. He doesn’t respond right away and the lack of a smartass answer unnerves you.

“I needed some courage,” He admits. “A lot more than I thought I did apparently.” The way he looks at you, the sincerity and warmth in his brown eyes, puts a pit in your stomach. He wasn’t allowed to look at you that way, not anymore.

“For what?”

You know and he knows you know. You may not have it in all the exact words but you know. The late nights together at Tiff’s as he sat with you through closing, the days spent keeping him company when his parents were God knows where, the movies you’d see three, four times over just spend time together, to be doing something, anything together. You hadn’t known him, for a long time, not really, but all the time you had spent together felt like years. You saw the way he looked at you and you wanted him to look at you like that, you yearned for it but he lied to you. Over and over again. He’d never gotten the chance to officially ask you but you knew he’d wanted to. That was over now.

“For you.”

“No, no.” You burst up from the floor and struggle to rip the key ring off your belt. “You don’t get to do that now. It’s too late.”

“I wanted to ask you. Everyday I wanted to ask you but I-, I felt so guilty about keeping everything from you but I told you the truth. I never lied to you, C.K.. Please, just give me a chance.” Steve’s knuckles are white from gripping the bars when you turn back. You shake your head and toss the keys a few feet from the bars.

“Free yourself, and stop fucking calling me that, I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to see you again.”

~

“Wake up.”

A consistent pressure finds itself on your shoulder and you shrug it off, trying to curl back into the warmth you feel around you. A twin pressure finds your other shoulder and there’s nothing you can do but sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Shit, Jane.”

She stands in front of you, her eyes wide and expectant. A single finger extends as she points to Steve’s sleeping form next to you on the couch. You sigh and brush stray hair out of her face.

You had come home from a shift at Tiff’s and before you even had a chance to toe off your shoes, there was a tapping from your bedroom window. Groaning, out the open window you called, ‘Give me ten. I’m sweating like hell and I gotta shower.” Steve gave you a small salute and then flopped down dramatically on the grass with his arms crossed behind his head as if he had only just been stargazing. You laughed to yourself before taking the fastest shower of your life while still cutting time out to shave, just in case. The night was young after all; Jane was off doing who-knows-what and your dad wasn’t due back till morning.

When Steve had finally been let in, he tossed candy, popcorn packets and a couple of tapes on your bed proclaiming he ‘had the goods.’ That’s how you ended up asleep in Steve Harrington’s arms on your living room couch.

Now, you lower Jane’s arm from pointing at Steve. She was growing on you–though you’d never admit that to her–and she seemed to be adjusting well enough to life in Hawkins but she never stopped being so jumpy. Maybe it’s because your dad wouldn’t socialize her, claiming for some ‘because I said so’ reason that you weren’t to say a word about her to anyone else. Even though he had told you she was just a foreign exchange student, you had chalked it up to some sort of secret police operation, like witness protection or something. You would be jumpy too.

“It’s okay,” you assure her, “this is just my friend-”

“Steve.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” you sputter, your stomach doing flips.

“Steve. Wake up Steve. Hopper home soon.”

“Shit, shit.” You shove Steve with two hands until he groans to life. Not bothering to give him time to adjust, you yank him by the arm and away into your bedroom as you hear the familiar sound of a truck ambling up the dirt road. You slam the door behind you and run to pry open the window. You had promised to keep whatever relationship you had with Steve a secret from your dad, whether you were just friends or not. It made sense to you, considering he was the police chief and had never been know to approve of you hanging out with the opposite sex but now you think maybe Steve had a different reason for making that pact.

“I’ll call you,” He promises as he begins to climb out the window.

You grab his wrist to stop him, your stomach doing flips as you ask, “How-why did she know you?” Steve’s mouth drops into a frown and he shakes his head slightly. His mouth opens and closes without a word. He swings his leg back over the window sill and grabs both of your hands in his.

“You can’t tell anyone this, C.K., especially not Hopper.” You nod fervently. You just wanted the truth. His eyes make a quick dash between your door and your face. He darts over to lock your door before continuing. “You know a couple weeks ago when I had the fight with Billy? Well, it wasn’t just Billy.” Steve sits down on the edge of your bed and pulls you down to join him. He runs his hands through his hair and sighs. “And you know how all these weird things have been happening in Hawkins lately?”

“Like what happened to Barb Holland?” Frigid air snakes in through your open window, sending a chill up your spine. You wrap your arms around yourself in a tight hug.

“Yeah, like that.” You nod, the broken voices of the Hollands echoing in your ears from the many, many times they paid a visit to your father at the station. “Well, they all kind of come back to this thing that’s really wrong with Hawkins. It’s sort of like, poisoning it.”

“Chemicals?”

“No, not like that, it’s like, ah-” Steve buries his head in his hands. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with Jane, anyway.” You pull one of his hands away from his face, searching his expression.

“You see that’s the thing she’s like a key-the key to all of it.”

“How long have you known about her, Steve?” You stand from the bed as he turns his eyes downward toward his feet, running his hands along the legs of his feet. The walls of the cabin are thin and you can hear your father’s voice as he talks to Jane. “How long?” You plead in a whisper.

“A little over a year…just about.”

“Holy shit!” You cry. Starting to pace, the sick feeling of utter loneliness seeps through you as you remember a year in a secluded cabin with a stranger girl who somehow, through little words, had captured your father’s heart and attention more than you ever had. A hand touches the small of your back and you swat it away.

“C.K.-”

A heavy knock sounds at the door, both of you turning in its direction. “Is everything alright in there?”

“Who else?”

“Huh?” Steve’s eyes don’t leave the door.

“Who else knows about her?” You slap an open palm against his shoulder, forcing him to look at you. He shakes his head, his eyebrows upturned.

“Please, you don’t want to-”

“Who?”

“Mike, Dustin, The Byers, I don’t know–the whole crew!” Steve exclaims, throwing his arms in the air. You sink back down to the edge of the bed, a hand on your chest as your vision begins to blur from tears.

“Nancy?” You croak.

“Yeah, Nancy too.” Steve rubs at his eyes as his gaze returns to the floor. You wipe the tears from your eyes with the heels of your palms, looking up towards the ceiling.

“If you don’t give me an answer, I’m coming in,” Your father’s voice booms from the otherside of the door.

“We should really-”

“I don’t understand,” You sniffed, “why is she here?” Steve’s mouth takes that pattern again of opening and closing without a sound. “Please, before he comes in here.” He places a palm to his forehead and sighs.

“She’s got these powers-”

“Get out!” You cry, standing and shoving Steve towards the window with all the strength you can muster.

“I’m telling you the truth! She opened this portal to-”

“Get out!”

“Harrington!” The door bursts up with a crack and you don’t have to worry about removing Steve yourself because your father is on him in seconds, dragging him by the collar. He claws wildly at the bigger man’s arms but it’s pointless.

“There are these monsters! The demogorgon, the demodogs, the mindflayer!”

You cup your hands over your ears, muffling the rest of the yelling as you climb your way up the bed and into the safety of your blankets. A few moments pass before a small voice breaks the silence.

“You okay?

You pull down the blanket just enough to see Jane peering at you through the doorway.

“Close my door.”

~

“Look, I’m sorry, okay!” Steve exclaims, the slam of his fists against the metal bars reverberating through the small room. You can hear his labored breath as he continues, “You were right, okay? I-I lied to you.” With an arm steadying you against the wall, you stop at the doorway. “Hopper didn’t just arrest me because of the window.” He paces the expanse of his cell as he continues, “Yeah, you see, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m not exactly the stealthiest man alive. The first night I tried to get your attention, I got caught. Hopper’s got these traps around the cabin and I must’ve set one off. He dragged me out by the collar just like he did that last time and he made me swear on my life that I stay away from you, that I never tell you the truth about Hawkins. He told me he’d make my life a living hell if I ever put you in danger.”

You ball your hands into fists, your nails digging into the skin of your palm. “Why would my father give a shit what happens to me?”

Steve slumps down on the bench, scoffing. “How could you say that?”

The nights spent alone at the kitchen table eating a lukewarm microwave dinner with only the bright white sheet of your homework keeping you company, the medals you hang on your wall that you have to congratulate yourself over, the ding of the toaster as the favorite food of some other girl is passed around the breakfast table: these are the things you remind yourself of when you think just maybe you were wrong, that you had nothing to feel sorry over.

“Do you know-” you have to clear your throat before you can force the rest of your question out as you blink rapidly to dry your tempted eyes, “Do you know what it feels like to be replaced?”

“You haven’t-

“Don’t tell me that I haven’t been because I have.” Even though you know it’s the truth, you’ve thought about it for months, you repeat it to yourself quieter, “I have.” A lightheaded feeling surrounds you as your eyes begin to blur with tears. “I know because I’ve been the replacement. I told you about my sister?” Steve’s eyes find the ground as he nods. “Well then you know that it wasn’t long until my dad was on to bigger and better things. I was the replacement for Sara and when that didn’t work–not for my mom, not for my dad–he found something new.” You shrug, a dark laugh escaping your lips before you knew it was coming. “I guess it makes sense she has superpowers. That’s the next big thing, right?” Hot tears sting your cheeks as you continue to laugh to yourself. “Even for you I was just a replacement for Nancy, huh? If I hadn’t been there, it would’ve just been whatever girl was working the counter.”

You sink to the floor, your back resting against the wall as your body is wracked with tears. You pull your legs to your chest, snaking your arms around yourself in a tight hug. There wasn’t a thought you hadn’t had before but to speak them out loud, it made them real.

With your head buried in your knees, you only hear the jingle of the keys as they hit the linoleum floor before a warm pair of arms wraps around you.

“You were never a replacement,” Steve whispers against your hair. “Not to Hop, not to me, not to anyone.” You look up at him, his teary eyes reflecting your own. He cups your face with the palm of one hand. “Listen to me. I was selfish, okay? I spend my time babysitting these insane children–who are much braver than I’ll ever be–as they fight against these fucking nightmare monsters and all I have to defend myself is a shitty baseball bat with nails, that I didn’t even make myself. And when I come home at the end of the day, no one’s even there to pat me on the back and they wouldn’t be there even if I never came home. So even though I promised my life to Hopper, I had to see you. I put you in danger because I didn’t just want you, I needed you.”

“Holy shit, you’re really serious!”

“I’m so fucking seri-”

With a fistful of his shirt in your hand, you pull him flush against you, crashing your lips into his. It’s not a perfect first kiss, far from it as both of you struggle to find a comfortable position but it says more to both of you than you’d ever be able to express in words.

When you pull away, you shake your head incredulously as you laugh, “God, I thought you were crazy!”

Steve tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles, “Baby, you have no idea.”

…

You wake to the sound of birds chirping happily outside. Reveling in the warmth, you burrow back into Steve’s side before you take a second look at your surroundings. The door to the jail cell hangs open,the key ring abandoned not far from your feet. You poke a finger into Steve’s ribs. He wakes with a start before his lips form a crooked smile.

“Hey, I’m free.”

“Well, you won’t be if we don’t get out of here soon,” You laugh, helping him up to his feet. You close the door to the cell and lock it tightly before turning back to Steve. “I’m starving.”

“Breakfast?” Steve smirks, offering you his hand. You take it, eyeing the station lobby quickly before dragging him out. “How about Tiff’s?”

You roll your eyes. “Anywhere but Tiff’s.”

“You know, I make a mean bowl of cereal.”

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

[simpinkitty]

This has been hanging out in my notes for a few days and the lack of power in my house gave me the courage to share. I present….

When Satan Fell in Love

——————————————————————

Satan had met many beautiful souls in his life times. Witches, with minds sharp as tacks, angels with impecable beauty and grace, demons with fires that were lit so fiercely in them it was nearly blinding, and humans with passion and drive that they changed the world.

Yet, none could ever make the Avatar of Wrath fall in love. Love was a forgein concept to Satan. He didn’t even believe it was something he could even feel.

He knew his brothers could. Each finding love at some point in their lives, even if it was fleeting or simply an airy attempt at love. They each proved their ability. However, Satan never did. He never knew the feeling of excitement or joy when another being was close to him. He never knew what it was like to let someone hold him tightly in a dark room as his fears shook him to the core.

That was until he met you. You the sweet but average seeming human. The day he first met you something inside his chest being growing. He wasn’t aware of it at first. Yes, he noticed your smile, and he saw your ambition to make a pact with each of the brothers. He admired you so much. He isn’t sure when admiration turned into something more though.

The day he realized he was in it too deep though was when he saw Mammon and Asmo both vying for your attention. Asmo rubbing his soft, well moisturized cheek against you and holding your hand. While Mammon made a huge stink about how you were his human.

His.

That word made Satan’s veins run cold. He hated hearing anyone else call you theirs. Blind fury enveloped the fourth born and he jumped up from his spot in the library and came stomping over to you.

Then, through your laughs and eye rolls at the two other brothers you spotted him. Your eyes glowed and your smile grew even wider.

“Hey, Satan! What’s up?” You invited him into the fold just as you always would because you were so very and truly kind.

Suddenly all the wrath he held inside him was gone. He let the new warm feeling you presented to him to warm his chest.

“Oh, uh, nothing! Just uh getting a book!” He reached above your head, but never let his green eyes breaks from your e/c ones. You suddenly felt nervous so close to him. He closed in and your chests were basically touching. You could feel his breath and you were sure he couldn’t feel yours because you were holding it.

“Right there it is,” He said grabbing a random book off the shelf still not breaking eye contact. As quickly as he came in close to you he was gone. You were left there wondering what the heck happened. Then, your mind was quickly pulled away from Asmo and Mammon arguing once again.

Satan knew in that moment he felt something new and different for you. At first it excited him then he remembered the rage he felt. He felt it so strongly and knew how dangerous he could be in those moments. Would you even love him when he was so filled with wrath? He vowed not to hurt you, not to bring you into that world. So, he avoided you. He avoided you as much as you could. Choosing to only interact with you if it was totally nessacary. You were just too sweet. You didn’t let wrath and anger fill your heart the way he did.

You were constantly trying to find a moment alone with the demon. You weren’t sure what it was that you felt that day in the library, but you knew you had to explore it. It was difficult with him dodging you in the halls and barely speaking to you during dinner. You basically just gave up. If he didn’t want to talk to you then so be it.

Then, a day came that Satan just couldn’t deny it anymore. You were at the dinner table doing work with Mammon and Levi. The three of you doing class work even if Mammon was really just cheating. Satan walked in and saw you. He was about to turn around quickly when he heard a voice come from you that he had never heard before.

“You stupid, Pig! This book is incredible! It’s passionate, it talks about issues that so many books just avoid! The heroine she’s so strong! Even if…even if the world thinks she’s weak! And I will destroy you for even making jokes about such a beautiful piece!” You slammed your hands down in front of Levi your face was red, Mammon was cowering. That’s what Satan saw it, the rage, the passion all of it. He couldn’t believe someone so angry could look so gorgeous.

You weren’t so different from him. Yes you were still his sweet, sweet human but you had rage and anger in you too.

The fact that a book could make you feel so much ignored a fire in him he couldn’t ignore.

And in that moment that’s when Satan let himself fall in love with you.

[hyerinrose]

Seven Of Hearts🖤🎭| Part 1

A/N : This is crossposted from my wattpad @ultimatesimpppp. I figured I'll post this story here while I work on a fic after months of nothing.

[2]

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

"Ugh last updated 8 months ago! why does every good story ended up like this..?" groaned a voice in annoyance.

They clicked off of the page they were reading and continue scrolling to find another book to be engrossed over rather than sleeping.

Speaking of that, they then shifted their gaze towards the digital clock on their bedside table. The red glowing numbers displayed on the screen : 4:00 a.m glared at them as if to remind them of their bad sleeping habits.

"Oh darn it has been that late? maybe i should start to hit the hay now" They said but their (e/c) were trained onto a book that seemingly were calling out to them.

'Seven Of Hearts🎭' the title of the book pique their interest already.

"Another reverse harem? ehh..maybe the description will win me over"

'A tale of 6 souls who were destined for one girl, Mackeyleigh who were in search of her one true love. Unknowingly, she have already met them and were in admist of a fight between 6 suitors who were vying for her love'

They deadpanned at the name of the heroine but seeing as their insomnia were getting the best of them, they decided to read through it anyways.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙•*⭑ Timeskip⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

"Oh my god this guy stinks!" They yelled at the screen as one of the male lead's action displeased them greatly.

Matsushima Masahiko is your typical prince-like character in a love interest. He has a big ego, godly looks, smarts, riches and charms. His red wined hair and golden eyes made him even more apealing to everyone.

However his biggest flaw was his ego that was equally big as his ass.

The scene that made them seethed in anger is when Masahiko humiliated Mackeyleigh by sabotaging their costume for a play that she will be leading with Ando Makoto, another love interest of hers which made him angry.

'I should be the one to be her prince! I was born and destined to be one!'

'Masahiko-kun..! You were the one behind this?!'

'Stand back Mackeyleigh.. this is a fight between me and him'

'Makoto-kun!'

Masahiko's response to being bested by his rival was the worst out of all other suitors' of Mackeyleigh.

They huffed as they planned to start a hashtag #Mackeyleighdeservebetter and #Masahikoisoverparty when they are done reading all of the current chapters.

It was only then that exhaustion caught onto them and they fell asleep shortly after.

Their phone still displaying the last chapter they were reading before falling deep into their slumber.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

"..up..wake up!..HEY WAKE UP!"

They jolted awake at the sound of a person shouting at them. Their vision were blurred as they had just been woken up rather rudely by whoever this is.

"Jeez calm down man..5 more minutes please" They tiredly mumbled while picking the crust out of their eyes.

The person huffed at them seemingly irritated and speak in a loud and commanding voice.

"You said that an hour ago now wake up before I make you!"

"Ugh..you're starting to sound like my momㅡ" They abruptly ended their sentence upon realizing that they lived by themselves and are painfully alone.

They almost got a whiplash from how fast they turned to the person who were standing beside them.

It was a male who looked ethereal, he looks like a fictional character rather than a human! His golden eyes glowered on them like they were a gum stuck on the bottom of his shoes.

Red wine strands of hair perfectly framed his face as his tall figure loomed on them.

He looks familiar..where have they seen him?

"Wㅡwho are you..?" They manage to croack the question out as they curled into the farthest corner of their bed.

The unknown male glare hardened as if insulted that they had the audacity to not know who he is.

"The name is Matsushima Masahiko, the most attractive man in the world and widely adored by many at Spades Academy" Masahiko boasted about himself with a smug look on his face.

Wait. Masahiko..Matsushima..Spades Academy..

They racked through their brain to figure out who this man is and wether or not they should call the police on him already instead of listening to whatever bullshit he was spouting.

Their (e/c) eyes shifted to Masahi's big fat ass and immediately figured out who he is. A light bulb lit up in their empty head as they connect the dot.

"Yㅡyou're from Seven Of Hearts?! How the hell did you end up here in my bedroom of all places?" They exclaimed with an incredulous expression.

Name slapped their cheeks and shook their head as if in a denialㅡwhich they are. Masahiko watches the strange human muttering and rocking their body back and forth.

"No no no no no no why do I have to dreamㅡno have a nightmare about this trash of a man of all people" They muttered with their eyes drained of its light like they were having a mental breakdown to which again, they are.

Eventually Masahiko grew tired of the human behaviour and smack their head instantly snapping them out of their stuppor.

"Listen here human, I don't know how I got here myself and I want you to return me back right now!" He says in a threatening tone.

"Wㅡwait why do you assume I was the one behind all of this?!" They were aghasted by his accusation.

The (h/c) haired person then pointed harshly at the princely male with a glare of their own.

They furrowed their eyebrows to look tough but to him they look like a small animal hissing at him.

"For all I know you could be some random dude breaking into my house to rob me!"

"What kind of thief would break into a person's home at daytime when a lot of people are around?" He shot back a reasonable excuss that shut them up.

"ok fair enough"

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

Disclaimer : Idk where tf this story will goヽ(ヅ)ノ Let it drive the boat🐟