#dorky lil guy who just wants to see you smile

[wayfayrr]

Tears request! Tears request! ...maybe?? potentially?

Maybe training with reader or someone?? Finding a nice spot to watch the sunset?

Not sure! Anyway if these don't pique your interest feel free to deletus <33

Definitely!! I decided to go with the sunset route for this one because I kinda felt it calling to me, although I think training would be interesting to write too <3

@h4wari hope you don't get tired of me tagging you <3333

“Come on, I promise you it’s safe. I use these platforms all the time.”

“Guess I’m just nervous about falling, even if you use them often.”

“You think I’ll complain about you falling for me, there’s not a single chance I would let it happen like that though.”

He’s proud of that one, it’s written all over his face, that sly little grin like that cat that got the cream. It’s good I know how to deal with him when he’s like this. Taking his hand into mine; the blush is already present within seconds. 

“I know you won’t link, I trust you.”

Sealing the whole thing with a little peck to his cheek and he’s a blushing stumbling mess, tripping over himself like every single thought in his head all just vanished. 

“W-well I, yeah I’m very glad that you do, because I love you and it’s healthy to trust the people you love, yeah.”

“Mhm, I love you too sherbert, but didn’t you say what you wanted to show me had to be soon?”

“OH! Right, yes. I did say that didn’t I, yeah let me just…”

The way he builds is almost mesmerising, the platform he’s planning on using quickly having a couple of rockets stuck to it to send us up. It’s small and a little less complex than what he usually builds but the way he looks at me when he’s finished is as much reassurance as I need to know that it’ll be safe. Within a few seconds he’s sitting with his legs hanging over the edge beckoning me to come sit with him, holding out his hand to me when I get closer.

“So what is it you’re planning to show off with this time Li?”

“I’ll show you, we’ve still got time for it.”

With a soft smile on my face, taking his hand and letting myself be tugged to sit down next to him, we're ready to go see whatever he’s planning to show me. The rockets activating was more of a jolt than I expected, but before long we’re both sitting up here comfortably above the trees. 

And he just looks more beautiful with the sunset reflecting off of his eyes.

[astralnymphh]

Domestic!Ellie is my addiction.

I need more. You don’t understand. It’s not a want!? It’s a DESIRE A NEEDDDDD!!!!!! Just reading the hc’s, how sweet and soft she is under it all.

When she’s herself again, that goofy dorky nerd we all know her to beeee!!! AGHHH!!!

- 🩵

i see more domestic!farm!ellie than i do domestic!jackson!ellie, and i think the latter needs to be discussed more.

no cuz farm!ellie— as I've definitely claimed before, is very husband coded. on the other hand, a more early–lover, girlfriend who takes care of the child u got knocked up with. which is literally dina, but, i guess if ur' not obliged to the thought of getting knocked up in the first place; gamer dad. i grew up with one, not like he was present 24/7, but like.. ellie? same font alternate story. i also hc ellie does best with boys, idk. just feel it. okay, maybe cause of jj.

stopp staying over at ellie's place for the night n' you bring the lil' guy over swaddled to your chest— legit, sowing two steps upon her doorstep, darkening it, not even getting the chance to knock, nay cast breath over it, and it's swung open and the bundle of wrathful joy nearing the age of two once strapped to you is now ecstatically babbling in your auburnettes arms. tis' fucking magic; how whenever ellie comes in contact with that baby, skies are rainbow–painted and mourning doves are entrancing the whole of jackson with a birdsong. how ur sweet boy, blood of your blood and bone of your bone, weeps gutty murder in the hold of yours truly— but dries of cheek and whorls of smile with ellie, is unfathomable.

"heyy dude, hows my favorite lil' guy in the world doing?" baby–talks ellie, so ooey and cooey as she bounces at the knee, blocking the doorway, "whos' ready to watch mom play the turning? i know mama is, i know you aree." you are but a fragment to her now, a forgotten shadow at her door. that sounds grim but take it literally. she like, literally forgets to kiss you at the door sometimes.

"ellie." comically, you tap your foot, faking a downturned pout left to dry without her kisses, and the cruel wintry air.

snapping her fern eyes up, she jerks a dumbfounded visage— and an even dumber query, "what?"

"my kiss?"

"oh, right.. um," her face relaxes and turns lily–white of innocence, shooting scattered glances at the child as she slants her weight over to you, "hey babe." extending graceful as a swans neck yet devoting you only a measly peck on the mouth measured lesser than a second before she slunk her body back and spun inside, rambling chin–tucked to that child, "ellies' got a new record i think you'll really like.."

lips still baked to a dry, you stare in catatonic quiescence at the eclipsed circle of pale lamp–light streaking around her bun as she paces away from you. step, by step, by hurried step, eager to spill attention with the full force of her coos amusing the easy–to–please mind, garbiling a possible bravo! or huzah!— until nightfall would whistle through the crickets and quiet him to sleep. leaving you, an even larger, tatted up baby now whiny for your attention.

need to see angelgbc photos of jackson!ellie holding jj now

[hyukalyptus]

guys remember when i freaked out about professor!yeonjun lmaooooooooo we back

cw. professor!yeonjun x adult!student!reader, pining, fluff!!! no smut. but still minors don’t talk to me or interact sorrryyy <3

professor!yeonjun who’s so hot but so dorky. teaches something rly mundane like…i dunno…chemistry or something lmao. he’s extended his office hours for you bc you’re particularly interested in the topic. and he just gets so excited talking about it. smiling at you while he pushes his glasses up >< and then yall suddenly find yourself in this tense eye contact. he clears his throat and “well, i think, uh…it’s getting late, we should probably go.” and you leave flustered, not even able to remember why you went to his office hours in the first place.

professor!yeonjun who noticed that you didn’t attend class the next day. you were too nervous. so he sends you a message (like he does with all his students!) asking if you’re okay. reminding you of his office hours the next day in case you needed to pick up some notes.

professor!yeonjun who’s eyes brighten when you knock on the door, standing to greet you, almost stumbling over something bc he’s so flustered. “hi!” “hi professor choi…sorry i missed class—“ and he just makes sure everything’s ok and you’re getting overwhelmed with the coursework. “nono- i’m okay. i, uh, it was just a headache.” “i’m glad you’re feeling better.” and it’s that intense eye contact again. “…you’re probably here for notes, hm?” “oh! yeah yeah. that’d be great.”

professor!yeonjun whose ears turn red. every. time. you make eye contact with him. and you definitely pick up on it. but having a crush on a professor is silly, no? he’s never been creepy or pushy in any way. you can just tell he has a lil teeny crush on you too. so you start getting a little brave. leaving smiley faces next to your name at the top of your scantrons. it takes him a while, but he eventually reciprocates. drawing a smiley face next to your score with his red pen.

professor!yeonjun who’s bummed during finals. will he ever see you again? he’s gonna miss you popping into his office to ask questions so you can watch him rant about his favorite topic. he’s gonna miss your lil giggles at his dumb jokes in class. no one else laughs at them. but when you go to turn in your final scantron, he’s so happy to see a post it stuck to it, looking up at you with bright eyes. but oh no, there’s another student. he better hide it real quick even though he hasn’t had the chance to read it yet. and you scurry off quickly, smirking to yourself.

professor!yeonjun who’s grading them back in his office, already forgotten about the post it. so when he sees it again, his heart races. since youre not my professor anymore :) 555-345-6789. and he’s so so flustered. but doesn’t rush into it. waits until grades are posted. you’ve almost lost hope. but then one day-

hi! this is yeonjun (professor choi lol). was wondering if you wanted to get coffee or something?

and he hits send, throws his phone, and runs away ehehehe.

[evan4ever]

Unlikely Lovers

Part 2 as requested!

Part 2 — part 1 here

Warnings: none, just a cute fic! Other than a lil makeout session 🫶🏻

—

You and Evan had gotten to know each other well after meeting at the cute little vintage store that day. You’d went to lunch like he’d asked, you both talked each others ears off, laughing at one another and smiling like fools. You genuinely enjoyed him just as he did you. You thought for sure this was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Evan had to go back to casting his new movie, but you exchanged numbers and the conversations never stopped. He’d text you every chance he got, you replied every chance you got. Texts turned to calls, and calls turned to FaceTimes. Late night calls, early morning calls, everything in between. You couldn’t seem to get enough of each other.

“I want to come see you again” you were sat on your sofa, pajama pants on your hair in a messy bun and a large sweatshirt on. Evan was on your screen, enjoying your over-the-phone presence while you worked on your studies. You were doing online school. Evan never minded sitting in silence with you while you studied, you both just liked the thought of being as close as you were able to be to one another.

You looked down at your phone screen, seeing Evan who was lying in his hotel bed just smiling at you. “I want you to come here too.” You nodded. It’d only been a month since you’d seen him that first time, only knowing him a whole month, but it felt like you guys knew each others souls. There was no denying the spark you’d both felt. And if that wasn’t enough, the amount of time you spent talking to each other somehow over the phone should be.

“We’re almost done shooting. We wrap up next week. I can come right after. If that’s… okay?” He was careful, not wanting to assume anything considering neither of you have spoke of your feelings and he didn’t want to pressure you. Your eyes lit up though, and his did as soon as he saw yours.

“Yes please” you groaned, picking the phone up so you were at a better, more appealing angle for him. Not that he minded your other angles, he loved them all, and he loved that you were comfortable enough with yourself to not care about looking perfect for him. You were just different, compared to the other girls he’s talked to and been with, you were different. You were just you, never needing to be someone else for anyone. It was a gift from above, and it made him more comfortable being his silly, dorky self, which you adored by the way.

“Yeah absolutely. You’ll have to show me around that small town of yours more.” He grinned. He’d been to small towns before, but pretty rarely and never staying in them. At this point he’d grown so used to the large over populated cities, and the small thought of traveling somewhere new and smaller often gave him a newfound peace at mind.

“Please. I already plan to” you smile teasingly while you faced your phone at yourself now looking through your cupboards for something to snack on. “How is the movie going?” You asked, still scrimmaging through the different foods you had, your eyes finally landing on some hot Cheetos that you just knew you had somewhere.

“It’s going really good. Totally different set than what I’m used to. This whole cowboy look is definitely new to me.”

“Oooo” you wiggles your eyebrows at him while you sat back down with your favorite chips in your lap. “Cowboy huh? You wear boots and a hat too?” You but your bottom lip curiously. You were literally dying to see this man with a western look.

“Yeah” he chuckled, nodding at your question, “you’ll love it I bet, totally a Montana look.” He teased you now. He had in the beginning expressed how he thought Montana was completely western, cowboys and horses everywhere. Maybe even outhouses and no running water. The whole Yellowstone series was to thank for that. You just giggled at his lack of knowledge with your state, thinking how cute it was that anyone would truly believe Montana was stuck in the 1800s or something.

“Oh yeah, you know I love them Montana boys” you nodded dramatically, him just smiling wider at you in awe. You were just so enjoyable to talk to and be in the presence of. He felt so comfortable with you and that was something he usually lacked when it came to girls.

“Really though, it’s going good. It’ll be a good one.” He nodded, shuffling in his bed to find a new comfortable position. You only watched him, taking in his beauty now. You honestly never felt like you were talking to some “famous” guy. And you had known of Evan for literal years, a fan even, but talking to him like this throughout the last month — you never saw him as the actor Evan, just as a nice guy who you very much enjoyed. Again, something he appreciated.

“Good deal. I can’t wait to watch it.”

“Without me. I can’t watch myself, it’s weird” he stated and your eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

“Excuse me. You’re phenomenal at what you do. You most definitely have to watch it with me” you nodded, popping a few Cheetos in your mouth while he just shook his head.

“Definitely not.”

“Evaaaan” you groaned, pouring your lip out dramatically causing him to crack a smile at the cute sight of your puppy dog face.

“Alright alright” he waved his hand in front of the screen, your smile widening, “I’ll watch it with you but we say nothing about me as a cowboy.” You giggled but nodded agreeing to his terms. It excited you to think about watching a movie with him, not even that it was a movie he starred in, just watching a movie with him.

“Deal”. You smiled down at the face in your phone screen, him returning it so contently. You both spent the rest of the night talking and laughing together before falling asleep, both on the other end of the video call.

The week felt drawn out, just waiting as patient as you could for Friday to be here so you could be together again, finally. The more you thought about it, the more scared you became over the fact that he’d have to leave again, eventually. He’d have to go home and go back to work. Long distance relationships were never something you wanted to do, but you were head over heals for this man — he was worth it. You only hoped Evan felt the same way.

Friday arrived as slow as it possibly could, but it was here, and you rushed through your apartment making sure you had your belongings and readying yourself to meet Evan at the coffee shop you had first saw each other in. He had texted you a time he’d be there, you had about 10 minutes to get there and meet him on time. You could hardly wait, but you were so nervous at the same time. Your stomach fluttering ridiculously, your palms sweaty and your heart beating 100 miles a minute. Part of it was probably because you meant to be at the shop already and was running late, but regardless you were hurrying.

You had your keys in one hand and your wallet in the other and at this point you just needed your phone having misplaced it.

“Jesus Christ” you mumbled as you looked around the kitchen counters, bathroom, your room, finally finding it in between the couch cushions. You smiled to yourself and jogged to your front door opening it in a hurry ready to book it to your car, only to stop as soon as the door opened and left you face to face with Evan.

Your eyes widened as you sucked in a sharp breath in surprise. He stood there smiling like a child, obviously excited to have surprised you.

“I- what are you doing here?!” You asked in a squeak, indeed very surprised. Before you could say anything else, he pulled out a bouquet of white roses from behind his back, white roses — your absolute favorite. Your eyes landed on them, your mouth dropping open in awe at the beautiful flowers in front of you. “Oh Evan..” you finally let your lips form a wide, grateful smile, reaching out to gently take them from his extended arms. You immediately put them to your nose and inhaled the beautiful sweet scent, your eyes closing as your mind wrapped around what has just happened. “I can’t believe you’re here.” You said quietly, your eyes opening to land on his again. He only stood there, his eyes on you, smiling happily at your reaction.

“Wanted to surprise you” he stated, a giggle coming from you as you lowered the flowers. “I remembered white roses were your favorite, couldn’t pass on the opportunity. I hope you like them?”

“I love them.” You nodded, biting onto your bottom lip nervously and holding back your blush as much as you could.

“Good.” he grinned wider. “Come here” you allowed him to pull you into his chest, his arms wrapping behind you as you snaked yours around him. “Mm, I’m so happy to see you, finally.” He mumbled against the side of your head, feeling him place a soft kiss onto your hair. Your eyes were closed as you just enjoyed being in his hold that you silently longed to be in.

Neither of you talked about any feelings or what you were wanting as far as a relationship. It’s always just being happy in the presence of the other, and whatever happens, happens. It was nice not having to worry about where it would go. You were both seemingly on the same page and feeling yourself in his arms now was all the reassurance you needed.

“I’m glad you’re here” you mumbled into his chest, his chin now resting on your head. You both pulled away, you looking up to meet his eyes that were gazing down at you, a happy smile placed on his lips. You both shared a moment of just admiring the other before you blinked a few times and took a step back. “I’m going to put these in some water, come in!” You motioned as you walked back into your apartment to your kitchen searching your cupboards for a vase. You heard him close the door behind him before walking into the kitchen with you and leaning against your counter watching as you searched.

Your eyes landed on a vase, of course on the highest shelf in the very back of the cupboard. You never brought it out never receiving flowers so there it was, untouched, out of your reach. You huffed in annoyance as you glared at it before standing on your tip toes and reaching as far as you could, your finger tips only grazing it, but that didn’t stop you from using your other hand to hike you up more to keep trying.

A moment later, you felt warmth behind you as a hand reached up and grabbed the vase with ease. You looked back once again meeting Evan’s eyes that were already on you with a smirk having a couple inches on you and the ability to reach so easily. He lowered the vase and handed it to you, you taking it from him as your cheeks heated up again at the close proximity you were in with him. His hands immediately rested on your hips so lightly you questioned if you even felt them, and remained there while you filled the case with water.

You took the moment you had so openly and rested your body back against his, your head laying so contently on his shoulder as he lowered his face into the crook of your neck. His skin brushing against yours felt so soft and yet so electric. Your eyes fluttered shut at the contact, hearing as he took a breath in and feeling the air as he’d let it out. You could stay like this forever if you were able.

“So..” you finally spoke, the feeling of his hold on your waist tightening slightly as you did.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response encouraging you to continue, turning his head in more towards yours.

You smiled and set the vase down finally, turning swiftly so you were towards him while his hands remained at your sides. You looked up at him like you had in the hallway, his eyes gazing down at you like they had before, and you let your hands slide up his arms before they met behind his neck, locking.

“What do you want to do today?”

“I have a few ideas..” he said, his voice so low you could’ve melted right there. But you held yourself together knowing you only had a few days before he had to go back to LA.

“Evan…” you groaned playfully, hugging him tighter to you which he happily allowed, his eyes still on you. “You have to leave Sunday. I want to show you some things here!” You gleam, his eyebrows raising as he remembered the two landmarks you had mentioned wanting to show him.

“Right right. Absolutely. Let’s go hiking, I’ll have you to myself tonight.” He squeezed your sides purposely ticking you and you squirmed, giggling, falling into him more.

“No no, absolutely not.” You removed yourself from his hold to stop the tickling, quickly taking his hand and pulling him lightly so he’d follow you which he obliged.

He was already in comfy attire knowing this was what you both had planned, you just switched into your hiking boots and out the door you both went. You spent the entire day showing him around your small town before driving out to Pompey’s Pillar where you finished your afternoon with him hiking and taking pictures of the cool place and walking along the Yellowstone river. It was a breathtaking view, a place you firmly believed everyone should visit at least once. And Evan was in awe the whole time, so you knew you accomplished what you had wanted.

By the time you had arrived back into town, the sun was setting and you both ordered take out for supper before finally settling back at your apartment. You both sat on your couch with Friends playing on the TV while you ate the food you ordered from the local favorite Mexican restaurant. You were so content and happy in his presence as he was you, making small talk with each other. It’s been a long time since either of you have felt this kind of happiness, and it killed you inside thinking soon the distance would be back.

“Who’s your favorite character?” You glanced up at him from your food then to your TV screen seeing the 6 friends in the famous coffee shop.

“Monica.” You stated before looking back at his pleased face. “What? She’s great. She’s so organized and smart!” He laughed lightly but nodded in agreement. “Who’s yours?”

“Joey.”

“How’d I know you were going to say that?”

“I knew you were gonna say Monica.” He raised his eyebrows teasingly, your hand reaching out to nudge him lightly. “You remind me of her.”

“How so?”

“Organized. Well-kept. You know what you want. Kind hearted.” His eyes locked with yours and once again, a blush crept on your cheeks. You instinct but onto your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling like mad, looking down at your half eaten meal. “Beautiful.”

Your eyes flickered up quickly at his last word, eyebrows raised high. He only continued gazing at you softly and there was no stopping the sudden change in atmosphere. He moved his plate over and sat it on the coffee table before taking yours and setting it next to his, all while you kept your eyes on him. Looking back to you, Evan slowly reached out and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, your eyes closing at the contact and your head leaning into his hand, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek.

“It kills me to think about you leaving.” You admitted quietly, your eyes still closed while his thumb caressed your face gently.

“Let’s not think about that right now” his voice was quiet as well. You smiled against his thumb that had made its way to your lips, running softly over them. You opened your eyes when you felt the couch adjust with him moving himself closer to you, you completely turned towards him already. He was now only inches from your face, his eyes scanning over your every facial feature with so much admiration. Your heart was thumping so hard against your chest you were worried he could hear it.

“Okay..” you sighed agreeing, your eyes watching his face while his flickered from your lips back to your eyes then back to your lips. It was so hard to hold yourself back from leaning in to finally meet his that were so close and so kissable. But you did, not wanting to overstep if it was possible. And, maybe you just wanted him to make the first move.

And your silent hope was heard, your breath hitching in your throat when he finally leaned in, waiting for his lips to meet yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and not a moment later, you felt his soft lips brush against yours, your noses brushing against each other as well. He turned his face enough to allow your noses not to collide, before completely crashing his lips into yours.

It was gentle at first, almost as if Evan was scared you’d back away, but when you didn’t he wasted no time in deepening it. Your hands moved to his face, his now firm on your waist, and you pulled him into you desperate to feel him. Your lips formed perfectly, as if they were meant only for each other, in a way no one else’s ever felt.

You felt his tongue swipe slowly over your bottom lip asking for entrance which you happily granted, your mouth opening allowing his tongue to slide into yours, dominating your tongue effortlessly. He pulled you in to him with ease, you legs now on either side of his body as you straddled him, your arms wrapping around him to hold him close to you while his hands found their way under your shirt and began tracing your back with his fingertips.

The kiss was hungry, but it wasn’t sexual. It was a need to feel the other so intensely. It was respectfully dirty, and it drove you crazy. Neither of you had any intentions of having sex just yet, both wanting to know each other completely before taking that step. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy a heavy makeout like you were right now.

Evan pulled his lips from yours immediately connecting them to your jaw trailing light kisses down to your neck, your head falling back at the pleasurable sensation. Your hands were still wrapped behind his neck, your fingers gliding up to entwine in his dark locks. A small gasp left from your lips when he bit down onto a sensitive spot behind your ear, his head falling back against the couch and smiling up at you proudly. You couldn’t contain the smile peaking through the glare you had tried to give him, your head falling into the crook of his neck now and his arms wrapping around you tightly.

You both remained in this position for awhile, just holding one another closely. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy it almost hurt.

“What does this mean?” You finally asked, needing to know where you both stood.

“It means I really like you,” he started, pushing you gently up so he could see your face again. You tilted your head to the side while looking down at him, your hair falling forward giving him the opportunity to push it behind your ear again. “It means I would really like to continue it, if you feel the same?”

You liked between his eyes as if making sure he was being serious. It’s not that you didn’t trust him, but your hearts been broken before and the distance obviously scared you. But you couldn’t deny that you were falling hard for this beautiful man. “I would really, really like that.” You nodded, his face lighting up and yours copying at his excitement.

He pulled your face back down to his reconnecting your lips in a much softer kiss, pulling back slightly to place another one on the tip of your nose while you smiled ear to ear.

“Good.”

—

a/n: always manage to forget to tag on my requests 🙄😮‍💨 sorry y’all

tags: @evanpetersmood @witchsbitchestime @demxnicprxncess @yes-divine-ruler @shjjpm @evanpsrealwife @iruzias @jangsuzchap @quicksilversg1rl @submissiveforahsmen @angelmenace @lovelizzie-blog1 @justa19 @daylas-life

[krikeymate]

I feel like all my anonymous requests are really depressing cause I’m just a lil angst goblin.

I was reading a fic where Sam was getting beat up cause if the rumours about her and I was thinking about how the deaths of the Bailey family would play into that conspiracist narrative. I was especially thinking about ethan’s death I mean even if you just look at the scream fandom there are pages and pages on Ethan who really didn’t have that much of an impact but…SHOCKER, he’s white, male and conventionally attractive so it’s literally impossible to escape him (no hate or anything but cmon fandom let the other characters shine) anyways I got so side tracked there. I can imagine Ethan being really glorified and fawned over by people in the scream universe itself in was way that actual serial killers were because people thought they were attractive (ew). Upon hearing that Tara was the one to kill ethan (i know it was technically Kirby but they did it together) I think the conspiracists would go insane and can you imagine a scene where Tara and Sam are just walking together before they both get jumped but Tara is the target of this attack and Sam is just held down unable to do anything while she has to watch tara get brutally attacked.

Well, Tara is my whump blorbo. There's a place for angst in our lives, because it's not about the pain at all, it's about the aftermath. It's about the being picked up, and the softness and the love and the support. It's about being reminded that no matter what we go through, there is a brighter side to be found and there are people who will help you reach it and sit in the sun with you. Anyway, none of that here.

~

Ethan Landry. Sweet, dorky, Ethan. He couldn't find his way out of a wet paper bag, people say. Soft, and shy, and smiled awkwardly at girls. Always nervous, but tried his best. Murdered. They tried to say he attacked them, that he wanted to kill them, that he was a savage monster. Who would fall for such a lie? He didn't even like horror movies, he was shaky around blood.

Samantha Carpenter is to blame, they know. It's heavily debated as to whether she attacked her sister last year, or whether it was simply a home invasion and she took the opportunity to make it something more, to sate her blood lust. But Richie was innocent, they all agree on that. A wonderful man who was guilty only of loving the wrong woman. That poor teenager, the best friend of her sister's... well of course Samantha decided she had to go, she wanted her sister to herself.

And it works! Because here they are, a year later, and it's the sister who does the deed, who thrusts the knife into Ethan's mouth, who twists it, slices it open. He'd had a crush on her, sources say. She used it to lead him to his doom. It was deliberate, pre-planned, it had to have been. Why else would he follow her there? Tara Carpenter may have been innocent, once upon a time, but not anymore. She's spent too long in her sister's clutches, corrupted, ruined. Just look at how passionately she defends her, as if she were innocent, as if the truth wasn't out there.

We should help her, some say, get her away from her sister, imagine what she could tell us, what she could reveal! She needs to pay, say others, she's just as guilty as her sister, it's too late for her.

No one agrees on how to stop this madness.

~

Sam's walking Tara home from her evening class. It feels a little surreal. A month ago, Tara would never have agreed to this, Sam had been desperate to do this. And here they are, Sam's hand attached to her sister's as Tara waves it around in the air, complaining about the professor. (She's not sure what she's talking about, but she's just happy to see Tara this animated).

They're turning the corner when they bump into someone... someone's. There's a couple of guys in hoodies, with surgical masks on their face. "Oops, sorry!" Tara smiles up at them, pulling Sam to move around them. They step back into her path, and Sam begins to feel nervous. Tara's hand tightening around hers tells her she feels the same.

Sam steps backwards, but before she has a chance to speak, arms wrap around her from behind and she's yanked away from Tara, as her sister is shoved to the floor.

"Hey what the fu-" Sam manages, before a hand is covering her mouth, jaw wrenched closed as her head is forced backwards against someone's chest. More arms appear to grip at her own and hold her back.

Tara is thrown to the floor, and a boot kicks out at her arm, stepping on her wrist as she tries to reach into her pocket. The figure looming over her bends down to reach into her jacket, and pulls out the taser she was reaching for. Scoffing, he hands it to one of his companions.

"What did we ever do to you," she growls, breathing deep to push down her fear. "It's not what you did to us," he says with conviction, "it's what you've done to others. What you'll do again!"

Sam kicks out and tries to speak, understanding setting in. Someone punches her in the stomach.

"We haven't done anything!" Tara yells, watching her sister get hurt. She tries to get up off the floor only to be kicked down again with a boot to the chest. "Just leave us alone!"

"But you have!" The one holding Sam shouts. "You killed Ethan! She-" he shakes Sam, "killed Richie and all those others." "They were innocent and you killed them," another pipes up. A chorus of agreement follows, and for the first time, the girls begin to notice just how many people are surrounding them. 6... 7, no, there's more further back, hiding in the shadows... watching. Some of them have their phones out, recording.

"You're going to pay for what you've done," the one looming over Tara declares.

"It was self-de-" he kicks her in the jaw, her head snapping to the side and smacking back against the pavement. He pulls her up from the floor, hands fisting her jacket and slams her back into anothers waiting arms.

Sam struggles against the numerous arms holding her back, unable to move. Her head is pinned, her jaw is clamped shut, tears begin to fall.

The ringleader leans in close to Tara's face, eyes meeting her dazed ones. "Your sister seems upset. Is it real, or just another act? Is she even capable of caring? I mean, she wanted you for a reason, right?"

"Fuck you," Tara snarls back. He grins, rewarding her with a backhand. "It doesn't have to be this way, Tara," he speaks, voice softening in faux-compassion. He cups her chin. "Just tell us the truth, tell everyone what she did, what she made you do, and it can all be over.

"She didn't make me do anything!"

"So you admit it, you killed Ethan in cold blood?" His voice is frantic, delighted.

"Ethan was a sadistic little fuck who got what he deserved." Tara finds herself thrown back to the floor. "He was a nice boy who never hurt anyone!" the one who threw her shouts, kicking her.

Tired of Sam's struggling, the one holding the taser moves closer, releasing it into her stomach. She groans, body twitching. Her legs give way beneath her, held up only by the formless figures clutching at her. They drop her to the floor and a boot presses down on her back. Sam is stuck, unable to convince her body to move, prongs digging in painfully from their place stuck between her skin and the pavement. She can do nothing but watch as the two figures assault her sister, kicking her, watching them pull her onto her back to hurt her some more.

"Stop, please, please stop," Sam begs. She's ignored.

It's only the sirens closing in that make it stop, dark figures scattering. She manages to drag herself forward, limbs slow to respond and shaky. "Tara," she cries. Her sister doesn't respond, still and bleeding.

[wikiangela]

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

so I wrote a lil something after 6x18, not sure if it makes sense at all - just a bit of Buck not being able to share his life with the Diazes with Natalia, and some feelings realization hah (also kinda emotional cheating? lol idk)

words: 2.9k

[read on Ao3]

“I’m at your door and no one’s answering.” she adds, and for some reason, he feels extremely guilty, as if he was doing something horrible and shady, and that she can’t know. “Uh, did we have plans?” he asks, frowning, peeking into the kitchen, where he sees Eddie throw a kitchen towel at Chris, who’s laughing loudly, probably after another joke. He can’t help a smile. “No, I just wanted to see you. But it’s fine, it’s my fault for coming over announced.” she laughs. “When will you be home?”  “Uh, I-” he’s already home, right now. There’s no place on earth that feels more like home than Eddie’s house. But he can’t say that. “I might not be back tonight.” he admits, distracted by a loud thud, and he peeks into the kitchen again, to see Eddie crouch down, picking something up.  “Buck!” Chris calls. “Come back before dad destroys the kitchen!” OR, Buck spends time with Eddie and Chris, and for some reason finds himself incapable of telling Natalia, which leads to some realizations.

____

The kitchen is filled with sounds of conversations and laughter, and music in Spanish that Eddie tries to sing along to, but he’s very off-key, and doesn't know all the lyrics, which in turn causes Buck and Chris to make fun of him. Eddie clearly sees how much fun they’re having, how much Chris is enjoying it, and continues to be a huge dork, goofily dancing around and singing, just for his entertainment. They all cook dinner together, like they tend to do pretty often nowadays, each having their own specific task, assigned by Buck. Chris sits at the table, carefully cutting vegetables, while Buck and Eddie move around each other as easily and seamlessly, as they do at work, knowing what the other one wants or needs without even saying a word. And whenever they pass each other, Eddie makes sure to touch Buck in some way, his shoulder, his forearm, the small of his back – and Buck feels hot, breath hitching each time, and he tries to ignore the way it makes him crave more.

Right now, Buck and Chris are laughing, as Eddie uses a salt shaker, that he was just about to use, as a microphone, almost yelling the lyrics, looking between Buck and his son, and Christopher covers his face in embarrassment.

“I can’t believe how lame my dad is.” Chris tells Buck, but Eddie obviously hears it, as he starts laughing as well. And Buck, well, he doesn’t think it’s lame. It’s dorky and cute. And he can’t help a fond smile that forces itself onto his face as he watches Eddie. He rarely gets to see him just be silly and goofy. It’s a very recent thing, but he’s clearly felt more free to just let go and have fun, and it’s amazing to see. 

“And I can’t believe how he got such a cool kid.” Buck shakes his head, obligated to join in on the teasing. Chris looks at him with a grin.

“My mom was pretty cool.” he says, and Buck can see Eddie falter for a moment, a soft smile on his face. They’ve been mentioning Shannon more freely now, too, and Buck learned more about her in the last few weeks than in all the years they’ve known each other. That’s pretty awesome, too, to see Eddie heal and move on. He even actually asked someone out and went on a couple of dates, and Buck ignores how thinking about it makes him feel, but then he just told Buck it didn’t work out, no details. Buck didn’t ask.

“I bet she was. Because I’m sure you didn’t get all your coolness from… that.” he comments gesturing towards Eddie, who gives him the middle finger with a laugh. Buck sticks out his tongue in response.

“You guys don’t know how to have fun.” Eddie comments, turning back to where he’s seasoning the meat, still slightly swaying his hips in rhythm with the music, and Buck tries very hard to look away.

“Look who’s talking! We have fun!” Buck exclaims, but before he can add anything else, his phone rings, and he fishes it out of his pocket and checks who’s calling. He feels… slightly less happy than he just was, and he really doesn’t want to. He wants to get excited at seeing Natalia’s name on the screen. He wants to feel butterflies in his stomach, and his cheeks warming up, and heart racing just at the thought of hearing her voice. He knows that feeling very well, and he doesn’t want to think about who makes him feel like that. But she’s his girlfriend now, they’re dating, so he should answer… he wants to answer, he’s happy to hear from her, of course. “Hey, I’ll be right back, make sure nothing burns.” he says to Eddie, pointing to the pan, where a part of their dinner is already frying, then turns to Chris and adds, “Keep an eye on him.” Christopher nods with a laugh.

Buck exits the kitchen, stopping just outside the door, and is still able to hear the music and laughter, and Chris’ comments, as he teases Eddie about using too much spice – which turns into a dig at Buck, but he’ll let it slide.

Buck reluctantly answers the call, trying to convince himself he’s excited and happy, and not regretting anything, and that the thrill of a new relationship hasn’t worn off before it even started. The thing is, he does genuinely like her, and he really wants this… but he feels like his heart isn’t his to give anymore, and the person holding it has no idea he has it. Buck doesn't even want to admit to himself who he accidentally gave it to.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks when the call connects.

“Hey, where are you?” her melodic voice sounds in his ear. It’s nice, he likes her voice. He likes her. She’s great, and kind, and understanding, and… he really wishes he could fall for her, it’d make everything so much easier. “I’m at your door and no one’s answering.” she adds, and for some reason, he feels extremely guilty, as if he was doing something horrible and shady, and that she can’t know.

“Uh, did we have plans?” he asks, frowning, peeking into the kitchen, where he sees Eddie throw a kitchen towel at Chris, who’s laughing loudly, probably after another joke. He can’t help a smile.

“No, I just wanted to see you. But it’s fine, it’s my fault for coming over announced.” she laughs. “When will you be home?” 

“Uh, I-” He’s already home, right now. There’s no place on earth that feels more like home than Eddie’s house. But he can’t say that. “I might not be back tonight.” he admits, distracted by a loud thud, and he peeks into the kitchen again, to see Eddie crouch down, picking something up. 

“Buck!” Chris calls. “Come back before dad destroys the kitchen!”

“It’s fine, it’s just a plate, it happens-” Eddie starts saying, standing up with the shards, cheeks pink. Buck has the urge to go over there, take the broken pieces out of his hands and make sure he didn’t hurt himself. Which is ridiculous, Eddie’s a grown man and a medic, he’d be fine if he did hurt himself. 

“What do you mean? Where are you?” Natalia asks. “Buck.” And Buck realizes she’s been asking him this for a while, but he tuned it out.

“Uh, nothing, I’m just-” he stops, seeing Eddie walk over to him, or, to the trash can that’s right next to the door right now, since the kitchen is such a mess, everything’s out of place. But it’s their mess, that they’ll clean up together, as always, and have fun while doing it. Those domestic evenings with Eddie and Chris are Buck’s favorite thing that he always looks forward to the most.

“Who’s that?” Eddie asks curiously when he’s next to him, gesturing to the phone. He’s still holding his phone to his ear, and Natalia’s asking questions, but all he can focus on are Eddie’s warm eyes on his.

“No one.” Buck responds and is about to hang up, but then remembers he has to say goodbye to the woman he’s dating now. “I’ll just be a sec.” and he disappears behind the door again.

“No one?” Natalia asks, confused and a little hurt, clearly having heard Eddie’s question. “Buck, what’s going on? Where are you?”

“I’m-”

“Buck, something’s burning!” he hears Christopher yell.

“Shit, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” and he hangs up the phone, cutting off whatever she was saying. And… it’s shitty. He’s acting shitty. He’s the worst boyfriend. Natalia deserves so much better, she deserves someone who can appreciate how awesome she is. Someone who won’t pretend and lie.

And the thing is, he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell her where he is. It’s not like it’s a big deal, he’s just hanging out with his best friend and that friend’s kid – or, actually, his best friend and that friend’s dad. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s normal, it’s nothing to hide, no big deal. Except… except it’s Eddie, and it does feel like a big deal, with Buck feeling like he does around him. He feels guilty. And you shouldn’t feel guilty and try to hide from your girlfriend that you hang out with your best friend, right? Buck’s spiraling, and he feels so guilty, as if he at least cheated- he feels more guilty than when he kissed Lucy and basically cheated on Taylor. It’s weird, he shouldn’t feel this way, because he’s not doing anything wrong right now… He feels like he is, though. Shit.

Besides, what’s even worse, is that whenever he’s with Natalia, all he thinks about is Eddie, and then he feels even more guilty – but that guilt doesn’t disappear as soon as he looks into her eyes, like it does with Eddie. He feels guilty when he’s with his girlfriend, and it’s for literally no fucking reason. Because Eddie is not his, and he’s not Eddie’s, and that’s just how it is. Maybe he wants it to change… He needs to sort it out somehow, because, well, he can’t live like this, endlessly riddled with guilt.

He runs into the kitchen to see Eddie take the a-bit-too-well-cooked meat off the pan, and put in another two pieces he just seasoned.

“Crisis averted, we’re good.” he says, grinning at Buck, and Buck’s heart immediately settles from panicked racing into calm and steady rhythm. Even just the sight of Eddie makes him feel at peace. He never wants to leave here. He never wants to be apart from his kid and his Eddie- well, from Eddie’s kid and his Eddie. Though, at least in his head, he likes referring to Chris as his. Because he loves him so much, as if he was actually his. But that’s not… it’s not true, and he doesn’t want to overstep. But it’s not like Eddie can read his mind.

And maybe that’s another thing. Maybe he’s worried that Natalia will freak out again, because it’s no secret that he and Eddie are really close, maybe closer than regular friends should be. They’re basically raising a kid together, and she was already freaked out when she found out Buck was just a donor. And it’s not like he’s Chris’ dad, as much as he’d love to be. There’s nothing to freak out about. Except, why can’t he just tell her?

They settle back into their routine, and later, as they’re both at the sink, cleaning up, while the dinner is just about to finish cooking, and Chris has gone to the living room, Eddie's arm brushing against Buck’s, Eddie says quietly:

“You know you don’t have to hide your girlfriend from us, right?” he sounds amused, but there’s also a tinge of something else, suspiciously similar to hurt. “You can, you know, invite her here for dinner sometime.” he shrugs, but he seems suddenly tense.

“Uh-” Buck hesitates. He knows he should, but he really doesn’t want those two aspects of his life to collide. He’s not sure how he imagines it looking in the future, if things with Natalia turn serious… but they probably won’t.  “Sure, I, um, maybe?”

Eddie gives him a confused look and laughs.

“Or are you hiding us from your girlfriend? Come on, we’re not that embarrassing.” he teases.

“I don’t know, Chris might not be, but you…” Buck jokes, but he feels something heavy sitting on his chest and almost not letting him breathe. It only loosens when he looks into Eddie’s eyes, and their hands brush when Eddie hands him a bowl to dry. Eddie smiles that wonderful smile, and there’s so much fondness and, maybe, possibly, love in his eyes…

“Shut up.” Eddie laughs again, and this, this is the most wonderful sound, that Buck never wants to end. Then Eddie starts quietly singing along to whatever song’s playing now, and Buck is just so enamored… He could stand here and watch Eddie be so carefree and silly for the rest of time. He’s so beautiful, and cute, and just his presence is enough for Buck to feel comfortable and at ease, and so happy. He brought Buck’s heart back to life, metaphorically and literally, and then took it and never gave it back. Buck doesn’t want it back. Oh, shit. He thinks… he thinks he’s in love with Eddie. It’s the first time he allows himself to acknowledge it, and somehow, it feels like the rightest thing in the world. He’s never felt this certain and content about anything. He loves Eddie so much, and it might kill him if he never does anything about it. And timing really is a bitch, because how is he having this realization right after starting a new relationship with a wonderful woman, who definitely deserves so much better?

Buck can’t stop staring at Eddie, wide eyes, as all his thoughts overwhelm him a bit, and he doesn’t notice when he tries to hand him a washed cutting board. He only comes back to himself when Eddie gives him a funny look. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, of course, I’m fine.” he chuckles nervously, and takes the board, dries it, and puts it in the right spot, not even wondering where it should go, because he knows this kitchen like the back of his hand. This is his home. This is where he’s supposed to be. And now that he acknowledged it, he doesn’t think he can go back to pretending. “I’m not fine.” he admits, going over to check on their dinner, turning the stove off when he sees it’s ready.

“What’s going on?” Eddie asks cautiously and worriedly, turning the water off and Buck can see out of the corner of his eye Eddie drying his hands. Buck shakes his head. “Buck, hey, talk to me, please.” he takes a few steps towards Buck.

“I think I fucked up.” he takes a deep breath, feeling panic rise in his chest. But then he looks at Eddie, with his concerned and loving eyes, and everything settles. Maybe he can have this. Maybe it’s possible. Maybe not. In any case, it’s not fair to himself, and especially not fair to Natalia to string her along, when he knows damn well he can’t give all of himself to her. He can’t even share the best part of his life with her, because it’s his. They’re his. Not really, not yet, but also they are, and Buck can’t do it anymore. He needs to break up with her, let her go before he messes it up more or it gets serious and he ends up breaking her heart. And only after he breaks up with her, he can wonder if maybe Eddie feels the same, which, lately it does feel like that sometimes. But one thing at a time. “I’ll fix it, though. Don’t worry.” he smiles, and Eddie still looks worried, but doesn’t say anything. Just helps Buck plate their dinner, and goes to tell Chris that it’s ready. Buck watches them take their places at the table, chatting easily, and including Buck in conversation, making him feel like he belongs here. They eat dinner, filled with more talking and laughter, and it’s perfect. Something settles in his heart, last puzzle pieces sliding in their places, and make the picture clearer than ever.

This is Buck’s life. He wants it to be his life, the rest of his life. He wants to cook dinner together, do grocery runs, and do all the other mundane things together. He wants to come home to them after a shift, curl up with them on the couch to watch a movie, with Chris pretending he’s too big for cuddles, but eventually falling asleep on Buck’s shoulder, and go to bed wrapped in Eddie’s arms. He wants to wake up together and prepare breakfast, and tease Eddie for always burning eggs, no matter how his cooking skills improve. He wants to be able to hold his hand, and run his fingers through his soft hair, and kiss his lips. He wants to keep raising Chris together. He wants it all. 

They’re his family, this is his life, and he’s determined to keep it. He’ll fix it, he’ll fix everything, he always does. And next time they cook dinner together, he might just be a little bold and reckless and carefree, and lean in to kiss Eddie, shutting up his adorable off-key singing, and if he’s lucky, Eddie will kiss back, and Chris will make fun of them both for being gross, but he’ll be so happy. And Buck will get them forever. He’ll get it all. For the first time in a while, Buck lets himself hope. Because suddenly his biggest dream doesn’t seem all that unreachable. They’re right here at the table with him, Christopher’s telling them about his day, and Eddie’s knee is pressing into his thigh, and his eyes are sparkling and looking at Buck in that way that makes him feel hot all over, and Eddie’s smile is the brightest thing in the room. There’s a moment, just a second, before Eddie remembers that Buck’s not single, where he reaches under the table and intertwines their fingers, squeezing reassuringly. Buck feels truly alive for the first time since he died. Maybe he’s felt this way with Eddie this whole time, actually, but refused to see it. He’s not sure how he missed this, while it was right under his nose, the answer to all his questions, the thing he’s been searching for. 

His boys, his family, his heart. This is it. They are it for him. At last, he found it. Now he only needs to do everything he can to keep it.

____

Tag list (if you want to be added pls interact with this post): @idealuk @thebravebitch @this-is-moony-lovegood @greenfairrryy

[loserforeddie]

Worlds Apart

(Yes the title is based on Separate Ways by Journey)

Summary: You and Eddie Munson had decided to keep your relationship a secret, but still, it was hard to keep his hands to himself when you wore your cheer uniform.

Eddie Munson x cheerleader! reader

warning: a lil jealousy, moaning, neck kissing, lowkey nsfw? thigh grabbing, secret relationship.

It’s kinda short lol sorry

Word count: 1527

Enjoy!

. . . 

As you jumped up and down, your skirt flowing around your thighs as your pom-poms shaked in your hands as you smiled at the crowd. 

It was just practice, but your outside practices always gathered a crowd, and you couldn’t say you minded. It was nice to see people getting excited to see you and your friends perform.

All the eyes being on you, watching with such intent. It made your heartbeat a little faster. More excited. You loved the cheering and praise you all got from the crowd, loving the way other little girls would try hard to follow your moves.

And yet, your eye’s searched for one person and one person only. Your boyfriend, Eddie Munson.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip out of nervousness, your eyes searching the crowd desperately.

And then, there he was. A bit behind the bleachers, but his eyes locked on you.

His eyes were only on you, only on your body, as if his eyes physically couldn’t look away.

You smiled at him, winking before you went into a heel stretch, your skirt flying up revealing your skin-tight shorts. 

You knew exactly how much he loved your cheer skirt. For someone who hated the popular crowd, he sure did love your cheer uniform.

You saw him smile at you, his eyes traveling down your legs. He may have been trying to hid himself away from the crowd, but he stuck out like a sore thumb, and you loved it. 

You and Eddie had been dating for over seven months now. And you still couldn’t believe it, the freak and the cheerleader, who would have thought? Certainly not you two, that's for sure. But, here you both were, dating and madly in love with each other.

You loved how dorky Eddie was, his nerdy and charismatic personality winning you over. Besides, you never liked jocks anyway.

And Eddie was so sweet to you. Always up for anything you wanted to do, always buying you anything your eyes would even glimpse at. He would always have a hand on you, on your thigh, your hand, your hair. He just loved touching you. Anything you wanted in this whole world, Eddie wouldn’t think twice before giving it to you.

God, Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.

The one thing about your relationship was that it was secret. No one knew, no one.

Well, besides Eddie’s uncle. 

You two had decided early on into the relationship that you two wanted to keep things only between you two. Not having it out in the open made you two feel safe and better about your relationship.

But now, now you wished so bad that you could show him off. Call him yours. Kiss him deeply in public. Feels his hands on you during class, oh how you would probably die if he felt you up during class-

“Y/N!” Chrissy Cunningham squealed excitedly, “That was a good practice! You did really good.”

You smiled at Chrissy, nodding your head, “Yeah totally! Oh my god Chriss you did so well!”

As you and Chrissy talked, you felt a hand on your shoulder, “Look at you two! You both did so well!”

Your shoulders couldn’t help but cringe as you felt Jasons' hands on you, but you smiled. “Thanks, Jason!”

Chrissy smiled at him as he snaked an arm around her, “So, what are you guys up to tonight? Patrick is throwing a party tonight. Y/N you should totally come! In fact, I know Patrick has had his eye on you for a while,” Jason winked at you as you mentally threw up.

“O-oh…um no. Sorry, I promised I’d uh- help my mom today. But you guys have fun!”

You Quickly avoided any other questions that Jason had for you. making your way over to the bleachers.

But he was nowhere to be seen, as you checked the other side, you realized that your long-haired boyfriend was nowhere to be found.

“Damn it,” you sighed.

The sight of Jason must have scared him off, must have brought him back to reality, and made him realize that you two couldn’t be seen together.

Your body shivered at the thought. Maybe it was weird, to be turned on by the prospect of how taboo your relationship was. About how no one, besides you two, knew about what you were doing.

But your body felt electric, electric at the thought of having him all to yourself. Leading a double life, as a goody-two-shoes cheerleader, and as Eddie Munson's lover.

But in times like this, you did wish that you could be open. Open about your relationship, to tell your friends that you weren't going to help your mom with some chores, but instead we're going to go and see your boyfriend. Watch a stupid horror movie, cuddle up on the couch as you held his hand, knowing your lips would somehow find his by the end of the night.

You wanted desperately to tell everyone that they were wrong about Eddie Munson, that he was a sweet, gentle, and caring person. That he was the kindest and most considerate man you’ve ever met. That he was so handsome, sometimes you could barely look away from his face.

And it pissed you off, how wrong they were, how they didn’t understand him like you did.

You kicked a rock away from your foot, needing to get your frustration out.

As you made your way over to the changing rooms, still frustrated and still upset about the fact that Eddie had left due to your friends, you felt a hand tug at your skirt.

You whipped around, preparing to slap whoever hand it was away. But only two see to shining deep brown eyes staring back at you

“Eddie!” you scolded, “What are you-”

Before you could say anything else, his hands grabbed yours, tugging you away.

And you let him, his hand intertwined in yours, as you let him lead you away to the nearby forest, watching as his face remained composed but the light in his eyes never faded.

You swallowed thickly, sometimes it was hard to know what he was thinking. Those deep brown eyes never betrayed any emotion that he truly felt. Sometimes you wish desperately to reach into his mind, to know exactly what he was planning.

 But maybe that was another thing to love about him, his mystery.

“Eddie, what is this,” you asked.

When Eddie was sure that no one could see you too, he pursues his lips and turned to you. “Sorry,” he said, “ I just needed you to get away from those guys. I just… I wanted to talk to you.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “Talk about what?”

Eddie sighed, looking away from you. “Well for one,” he took a step closer to you, “I really like the skirt.”

You felt a hand come over your exposed thigh, his cold rings making you flinch with the contrast of his warm hands.

He now had you pinned up against a tree, his face dangerously close to yours. So close- in face- you could hear his breathing. And by god, did you want to kiss him.

“And for two,” he said, his voice in your ear, “who the fuck is Patrick?”

You sighed. Eddie wasn’t the jealous type, he truly wasn’t. But considering how your relationship was known by only you two, he had a problem getting a little more protective.

“Some jock guy. Friends of Jasons. He…he asked me out a few days ago.”

Eddie shot back, his hand leaving your thigh as if you burned him. 

“What? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

You gave him a quizzical look. He normally was very chill, he was normally the more sensible one in your relationship. Although some may find that hard to believe. 

“I didn’t because I didn’t think it mattered. Eddie, I love you. And I’ve never even thought about anyone else, much less Patrick.”

Eddie bit his lip, “So what you’re saying is,” his hands coming back to your waist, “You’re all mine?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, Eddie,” your arms wrapped around his shoulders, “I’m all yours.”

Eddie gave you that dorky smile you loved so much, “Good, because I’m all yours sweetheart.”

His lips came crashing down on yours, and you couldn’t help but smirk as you felt his body against yours. His hands coming to squeeze your thighs before moving to your hips. 

As you both deepend the kiss, you noticed just how exposed you both were, in the middle of the woods somewhere. 

You pulled back, but Eddie just used that as an excuse to attack your neck. 

“Eddie,” you hated how his name came out in a moan, “Eddie, we should go back to your house. Yeah? I can…” you let out another moan as he bit down on your neck.

You could feel Eddies smirk on your skin, “You can show me what, sweetheart?”

You bit you lip, hard, before saying, “I can show you a few new moves. But some I learned only for you.”

Eddie’s face shot back from your neck, looking into your eyes.

“God,” he said breathlessly, “I love you.

. . . 

A little short I know, but it’s my first story for this blog so I hope you like it :)

[cousinconnie]

Come Closer

Chapter 10 of Lil Matchmakers

Prev Next Masterlist

AN: Strap in for the Camping Trip Arc. It’s so hard writing so many characters at once 😭 but I like the challenge 😈 as always this is unedited for the most part so bare with me 😭 excessive fluff, Mutual pining, scary stores and fire 😈😈 enjoy!

When you arrive at the campsite Annie is already setting up her tent.

The sight strikes you as strangely endearing. Your usually stoic friend looks like she is actually enjoying herself. Which was especially odd considering setting up the tent is probably every camper’s least favorite activity. 

“I don’t get it either,” Hitch, who was sitting on a nearby rock was also staring at Annie, “She's like, really into it.”

At the sound of Hitch’s voice the blonde looks up. She looks at you blankly before staring at the compacted tent in your hands, “Give it to me.”

You hand it over and watch as the blonde becomes busy again. A delicate smile graces her face as she unpacks your tent for you. 

You gently shake your head before turning to Hitch, “Where is everyone?”

“Well Reiner and Bertholdt aren’t here yet, and the rest are all gathering firewood for tonight. I  decided to stay here. Away from gross yucky dirt.” She lightly kicked her shoe into the ground and scowled at the tiny cloud of dust that resulted.

You find yourself chuckling at your friend, “You know, you didn't have to come if you didn't want to.”

She narrows her eyes at you, “Is this your way of saying you don’t want me here?”

“No!” You're quick to counter, “Of course I want you here!”

Hitch smiles and playfully pushes your shoulder, “I know, I was just joking. I might hate being dirty but I love hanging out with you guys. And if I didn't come I would miss watching Annie be kinda dorky over the tents.”

At the mention of the blonde you look over at her again. In the short time you and Hitch have been talking Annie has already set up your tent, and is now putting all of your things inside for you.

You walk over to your car and start unloading the rest of your things with Annie’s help. By the time the two of you were done you could hear the rest of your rowdy group coming closer.

Connie’s voice was the loudest, “-AND THEN BOOM! Powerade.” 

Sasha cackled at whatever Connie had said before she noticed that you were there. She ran at you, squeezing the breath out of you with a tight hug. Before you have a chance to recover you are scooped into Eren’s even tighter grasp. He laughs maniacally as he crushes you in his arms.

You hear screeches of your name as the rest of your friends start crowing around you. Mikasa somehow manages to pry you out of Eren’s hold so that you could properly greet everyone. Armin is the last one to come up to you, “Hey, It’s so good to see you!”

You hope that he can’t tell how hot your face was getting. It was embarrassing, how easily he was able to make you flustered.

“It’s really nice to see you too!” You hoped you weren’t speaking too loud, “Did you get here okay?”

“Yeah, it was actually a really pretty drive,” His eyes flickered to his feet before looking back up at you, “You made it here okay..?”

“Yeah! I’ve gone camping here with Sasha before so..”

Your conversation is interrupted by a loud string of curses coming from the fire pit.

“Fucking work already!” It’s Porco, he is rubbing a stick into a log as fast as he can, “Give me fire you piece of shit!”

“That’s it Porco,” Pieck sarcastically says from her place beside him, “If you yell at it hard enough it will burst into flames.”

Her comment earned a wolfish laugh from Ymir, “Ha! Yeah, good luck with that Porkie Poo.”

“Not Porkie Poo!” Sasha exclams, eyes filling with tears from holding back her laughter.

“Nah…” Connie was in a similar state. All it took was for the two of them to make eye contact before they both burst into laughter.

“Shut up!” Porco yells at them, which only makes them laugh harder, “I’ll get this!”

And with that, the group gathered around the cold fire pit, all sitting on the provided tree stumps to watch Porco fail to start the fire.

You are hit with the realization of how happy you are. Recently you have been so busy with your job that you've neglected to make time to spend with your friends. You don’t even have to speak, just listening to them talk and laugh brings a smile to your face. You decide that you are going to try to carve out more time for things like this. You miss them.

Porco has been struggling with the fire for what feels like forever before Armin finally speaks up, “Do you just want me to do it?”

Porco laughs at him, “If I can't do iy, you definitely can't do it.”

Amin stares at him blankly, “I can start a fire, Porco.”

“And why would you know how to start a fire? You look like a mosquito bite could kill you.”

Amrin murmurs something under his breath that made Eren laugh, Porco assumed it was a joke at his expense. 

“What did you say!? Speak up!”

Armin quickly looks at you before looking back at Porco, he softly says, “It’s embarrassing.”

Eren, who still hasn’t stopped laughing, says, “Dude, just say it.”

“I used to be a Boy Scout.”

There was silence before the camp erupted into noise. Ymir was laughing so hard her whole body shook, Historia was trying and failing to make her stop. Hitch was pointing at Armin, no shame as she laughed at him. Sasah and Connie were falling over themselves, screeching and clutching their sides. Eren’s laughter returned to him, he was slapping his knee. Porco stared at Armin in an almost confused way. At least he wasn't also laughing. 

Armin had his head in his hands, completely flustered. He couldn’t bear to think about what you thought of him now. Why would he ever say that out loud! He used to be a Boy Scout? How dorky could he be!

(You thought your heart was going to explode. He was so cute.)

As the laughter died down, you felt something cold on your forehead. You look up at the sky and see gray, “Guys, I think it might rain.”

“Yeah!” Porco blurts out, rising from his crouched position, “I can't light this fire because there is too much moisture in the air!”

“I don’t think that’s the reason,” Historia mumbles.

“It’s definitely not the reason.” Annie states.

Hitch shrugs, “User Error.”

Just then a truck pulls up. It’s Reiner and Bertholdt, the last two to finally arrive.

When the two boys finish unloading their truck and make their way over to the group you call out to them, “Reiner! Bertholdt!”

Bertholdt smiles at you and Reiner moves to sit next to you  before suddenly stopping. He looks at something behind you but when you turn your head you are only met with Armin. Then, in the place that Reiner was going to sit, Connie appears.

Reiner instead moves to the lifeless fire pit, “What's going on here?”

“Porco can’t start the fire and he won’t let Armin do it, so we’ve just been sitting here cold as hell,” HItch complains. You notice that Annie is now setting up another tent. Well, we all have our vices?

“NO!” Porco tries to defend himself, “It’s raining! So no one can start any fire!”

What was a small drizzle had indeed evolved into light rain. It was warm so no one had voiced any complaints about it.

Reiner picks up a stick from the ground, “Eh, I think I could do it.”

Before Porco had a chance to tell Reiner to fuck off Reiner had indeed managed to start a small fire. 

“I have never seen anyone start any fire that quickly in my life,” Sasha said in awe, “And in the rain??” 

Porco was flabbergasted. 

Reiner looked up to see the group's shocked faces, “... I brought the marshmallows.”

And with that, it finally felt like the camping trip had officially begun. 

Hitch, surprisingly, was amazing at cooking food fireside. Every hotdog was perfectly charred and she even brought out a pot and some vegetables. She managed to make a delightful warm potato stew. Sasha joked to Annie that she was going to steal her girlfriend away from her. Annie did not laugh.

The smores were brought out after everyone had their fill of the stew. Connie managed to burn every single one of his marshmallows. You laughed at him and attempted to help him cook them the right way, but he still couldn’t roast them properly.

While you all were talking Porco went to his tent and pulled out a guitar, figures he would bring out a guitar, luckily he didn’t play wonderwall. Instead, his music was a pleasant backdrop to the conversations that were playing out. Until Sasha convinced him to play the Campfire Song from spongebob.

The campsite filled with hysterics, everyone was trying to yell the lyrics louder than the person next to them. You tried your best but you didn’t think anyone could be louder than Eren. 

After you all finished the song (after a while your sides started to hurt from all the laughing) Mikasa spoke up, “I’d like to tell a story.”

“Oh like what happened at work?” Bertholdt asked.

“No,” Mikasa answered, “A scary story.”

A hush fell over the campsite. If it’s Mikasa telling the story then it must be terrifying.

“On a summer night just like this one,” Mikasa starts, “A group of friends decided to go to a Seven-Eleven to get some snacks. The man at the counter told them not to go to the ice machine because it wasn’t working. The friends didn’t listen and decided to get some ice. When they opened the ice box,” She stopped, waiting to make sure everyone’s eyes were on her,”.... There was a severed head inside!”

There was silence before Annie spoke up, “That was lame.”

“You tell a better story then, Annie!” Eren yelled, but even he agreed that the scary story wasn’t all that scary. 

Pieck looked at Eren, “I have a story.”

She plopped a marshmallow in her mouth and chewed slowly, thinking about what story she was going to tell. After she finished swallowing she gave the group an appraising look.

“Have you guys ever heard the story about Midnight Lake?”

Everyone shook their heads, and she took that as a cue to begin.

“There is this summer camp not too far away from here, and it's right next to this Beautiful lake. When the kids asked why it's called Midnight Lake one of the newer camp counselors said that it was because the person who discovered it found it at Midnight after searching all day. But the Counselor who was there the longest pulled the children aside.”

You find yourself leaning forward, enraptured in the story. In the corner of your eye you see Connie reaching for another marshmallow to destroy.

“‘You will not go to that lake without supervision,’ the counselor said, ‘And you will never go there when the sun goes down, and you will especially not go there at midnight.’ This counselor was beloved by all of the children. They were usually goofy and fun, so it was odd to hear them so serious. Most of the children trusted them completely. They never went to the lake unsupervised, never when it was dark, and never when it was midnight. But there was one child who couldn't help but be curious.”

“Rookie mistake.” Jean blurted out.

“He needed to know,” Pieck continued, “Why couldn’t they play in the lake at night? His family owned a lake house, and he and his siblings would swim at night all the time. What was different about here? HIs mother told him that asking questions and finding answers is what makes you grow up to be smart. So he decided that he was going to go out and find some answers.”

You scoot closer to your right, closer to Armin. You think your eyes might be tricking you but you could swear that he was scooting closer to you too.

“He waited until all the counselors and his friends had fallen asleep. He put on his swim trunks and his sandals, and he marched towards the Lake.”

“No!” Jean said under his breath. Ymir smirked at him.

“As he walked through the woods, he quickly noticed that something was off. He felt like he could hear a voice speaking to him. The closer he got to the lake the voice became clearer and clearer, ‘Come faster! Come faster!’ He felt like he could recognize the voice but he couldn’t place who it was.”

Something about that part made you feel a chill. You unconsciously reached out for Armin. To your surprise, he wrapped an arm around you and gently pulled you closer to him. (He hoped you didn’t realize how much he was focusing on you rather than the story.) 

Connie started roasting another marshmallow.

“By the time the little boy was closer to the lake, his ears were ringing. The voice was so loud that it made him feel sick. He wanted to turn back, to go back to his friends. This was a mistake, he realized, he should’ve listened to the old counselor. But as scared as he was of the voice, he was even more afraid of what it would do to him if he left. COME CLOSER!”

Pieck yelled, and Historia jumped.

“COME CLOSER! So the boy went closer.”

Jean looked like he might pee his pants.

“The boy wandered up to the lake. He was shaking and sweating. He thought he might throw up. ‘Come closer.’ the voice had softened. It turned so sickly sweet that his teeth hurt. ‘Come closer.’ The boy was at the lake’s edge now. ‘Come closer. Look at me.’ The boy was terrified about what he might see in the lake. Was it a monster? Some evil siren? He didn't want to look. “Look at me. Look at me.’ The voice cooed at him. He couldn’t help himself. He thought of his mother. ‘Asking questions and finding answers is what makes you grow up to be smart’ is what she had taught him. So he leaned over the edge of the lake and peered into the surface.”

You pressed yourself into Armin’s side. His arm squeezed you closer to him. Connie’s marshmallow blackened.

“He didn't see anything. Just his reflection. What was he hearing? Maybe it was just the wind in the trees tricking him, he told himself. The counselor's words must have scared him. But as he kept staring into the lake he started to notice movement.

“Oh no,” Hitch whispered.

“Was it a fish? Or a frog? He looked closer but couldn't see anything. Just his reflection. Was it a bug? Or just the water current? He looked even closer. Just his reflection. That’s when he realized. The movement was not a fish or a frog or a bug or a water current. The movement was his reflection.”

Reiner gasped.

“He was not smiling, but his reflection was. He was not reaching out. But his reflection was. He was not speaking. But his reflection was.”

At this point everyone was enraptured. Even Annie was leaning in.

“‘I'VE GOT YOU.” The reflection said. And suddenly the boy was falling into the lake, and the reflection was getting out. The boy realized, way too late, that the voice he was hearing in the woods was his own. And then- AHHHHHH!”

Pieck screamed, causing everyone to jump violently. Connie let out a high pitched scream and pulled his flaming marshmallow out of the fire. Eren, who happened to be sitting beside him, saw this as an opportunity.  He over exaggerated his movement, pretending to be scared. He jerked his arm oddly and knocked the flaming treat-on-a-stick out of Connie's hand and onto his shared tent with armin. 

Only Connie and Eren saw this happen.

Pieck was cackling, “Wow! I really got you guys!”

“Pieck seriously,” Porco clutched his chest, “I think Bertholdt might have shit himself.”

“Uh guys.” Connie called.

“Bertholdt!? Dude I probably shit myself,” Ymir was holding onto Historia tightly. Seeing that made you realize that you and Armin were in a similar position, “That was great!”

“Guys.”

Mikasa had stars in her eyes, “You have to teach me.”

“Seriously guys, the tent is on fire.”

“Pieck, what would you have said to my mother if you caused me to have a heart attack!?” Jean’s face had lost all color, “What would you have told her!?”

“Bruh.” Connie shared a look with Eren, who was struggling to hide his (evil) grin.

HIstoria looked amused in Ymir’s tight hold, “You have a talent, Pieck!”

“OH MY GOD,” Connie suddenly stood up, finally gaining everyone’s attention, “ONE OF THE TENTS IS ON FIRE!”

The group burst into action. 

Mikasa, Reiner, and Sasha all started stomping out the fire while Historia ran to grab one of the water jugs. Sasha was screaming about how she’d kill everyone there if her forest caught on fire. The rest crowded the tent, watching as the fire was put out. Eren was still sat on his stump, looking like the cat who caught the canary.

“Oh shoot, Armin,” Eren said as the pandemonium died down, “It was our tent that caught fire.”

Armin deadpanned. 

“Good thing we didn’t put any of our things in it yet,” He made eye-contact with Connie, who looked confused as hell, “I wonder where we are going to sleep tonight.”

“U-Umm,” You speak up, “I’m not sharing my tent with anyone. It’s kind of small though.”

The look on Eren’s face could only be described as diabolic, “Well, how about Armin sleeps in your tent with you, and I sleep with Connie and Jean.”

Jean looked affronted.

Armin’s face turned so bright red it almosted glowed in the moonlight, you were afraid he might pass out.

“Well, I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” You start, “You both could share my tent and I could sleep with Sasha and Mikasa…?”

“NO!” Connie finally caught on, “Eren’s plan works much better. Our tent is bigger! Right Jean?!”

Jean looked like he wanted to die, “Yeah.”

You look at Armin, who was staring at his shoes, “Well, only if you're comfortable with it?”

“Me!?” He suddenly looks up, directly in your eyes, “Only if you're comfortable with it.”

Words leave you for a moment. At this point, you have been crushing on Armin for a while. You were hoping that if you neglected that feeling, starved it, it would shrivel up and die. Armin was someone who made you feel safe. He was never aggressive with you, he never yelled at you. When you were being silly he never made you feel like you were stupid. His friendship was something that you valued so much. Not many people make you feel so secure. You were terrified that asking any more from him would be too much. You didn't want to lose this. You told yourself that if this was all you got, you would be grateful. But sleeping next to him? It might bring you to the point of no return.

You swallowed, “I’m comfortable with it.”

After a little bit more talking, everyone decided they were exhausted. Eren smuggly threw his sleeping bag into Jean and Connie’s tent and crawled in with them while Armin timidly crept into yours. There wasn’t much space in your small tent but the two of you put as much space in between each other as physically possible. You spent about an hour like that, both lying as straight as possible under your separate blankets and staring up at the ceiling, trying to be still so as to not disturb the other.

Then you started shivering.

You tried to stop. You thought warm thoughts and clenched your teeth together. But then your whole body started shaking. 

“Um,” Armin’s voice was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him, “You could come closer, if you want.”

You reluctantly scooted closer to him. Your arms were touching.

“You could come closer,” He said, “If you're cold.”

And you moved closer.

He turned on his side, so that he was facing you. You couldn't see his face. (His face was so hot he thought he was going to die.)

“I don’t want you to be cold,” He spoke again, “So, you can come closer.”

You were now so close that your face was pressed up against his chest. You wondered if your cold nose was bothering him (It wasn't, he thought it was cute.)

His arms slowly wrapped around you, his legs started to interlace with yours. Before you knew it you were entwined with each other.

“I definitely won’t get cold now,” You say softly.

You have never felt so hyper aware and comfortable at the same time. You were sure that, even though you were tired, you'd never be able to sleep like this. You’d be too busy thinking about him.

But you were so warm. So happy. His breathing lulled you to sleep.

—

Taglist!🏷

@arlertwitch @wh0reforlevi @chscklvr @justlikesuna @alienvarmint @artsyblkkid @xttxck @anewmagicalreality @thatsassyhufflepuff @serotoninbitch

(If you want to be added to the taglist just ask ✨)

[sluttywonwoo]

the bet || j.ww x reader

Summary: you help your boyfriend’s best friend win a bet against your better judgement

Warnings: swearing, lil bit of jealousy, light smut (18+) 

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

“Hey, can I ask a huge favor?”

You hoisted yourself up from your beach towel onto your elbows and pulled down your sunglasses to glare at the boy in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. What could Kim Mingyu possibly want from you?

“What is it?”

He ran a hand through his still-wet hair awkwardly. “Um, the boys and I are about to play a game of volleyball, and we’ve bet some money on it…”

“Okay?”

“And, well, it’s me and Hansol against Wonwoo, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan. Wonwoo’s their best player and I was wondering if you could distract him? So that we have a better chance of winning?”

“Distract him… how?” you asked, not fully understanding.

“You know… whatever it is you do that drives Wonwoo crazy. He’s your boyfriend, I’m sure you know how to wind him up.”

“You mean you want me to get him hard during your game?”

Mingyu nearly choked at that. “Um, I mean pretty much, yeah. Just do something that will throw him off his game.”

“So you want me to help you guys cheat?”

“It’s not technically cheating.”

“I think your definition of cheating is much looser than mine.”

“So is that a no?” he asked.

You thought about it for a second. “Is there anything in it for me?”

“We’ll give you a cut of the winnings.”

You found yourself grinning. “How much did you guys bet?”

“Two hundred if they win, three hundred if we win. Basically whoever’s on the losing team has to cough up a hundred bucks.”

“Jeez, I can’t believe Wonwoo is risking that much on a stupid game.”

“Are you upset?”

“No, it’s his money he can do whatever he wants with it. I just think he’s a dumbass.”

“Not arguing with that.”

“Do you need me to remind you that you’re betting the same amount?”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “So you’ll do it? For a hundred?”

“Yeah, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Pleasure doing business.” Mingyu smirked and held out his hand for you to shake. You rolled your eyes at the formality but shook his hand anyway, just as Wonwoo came up to the both of you and clapped Mingyu on the shoulder.

“What are my best mate and my best girl talking about?” he asked, leaning down to kiss you.

“I wanted to go swimming, but Mingyu said you guys are about to play volleyball?” You piped up before Mingyu could say anything. Maybe you should’ve felt guiltier than you did about lying to your boyfriend and for what you were about to do, but hey, a hundred dollars was a hundred dollars . And if everything went according to plan, you’d be getting some good dick too. A win win.

Wonwoo frowned a little bit. “Oh yeah, sorry. Wanna play, love?” he offered. “There’s still some room on Mingyu’s team.”

You made a face. “What about your team? Can’t you make one of your other team members switch?”

He winced. “I love you, y/n, but you’re shit at sports.”

Any trace of remorse left over what you’d agreed to do dissolved in that moment. He fucking deserved what he was about to get.

“The stupid game is that important to you? Asshole,” you scoffed, and put your sunglasses back on before laying back down on the towel.

“Y/n,” Wonwoo whined, and crouched down next to you. “I-”

“Go play your fucking game.”

He stood back up, but lingered for a moment. You could tell he felt bad, but you weren’t having it. “Wanna go swimming after?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Sure, whatever.”

You could tell he’d walked away when the shadow over you disappeared. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you were a little pissed about the comment he’d made. Were you shit at sports? Yes, definitely, but could he have at least pretended to love you enough to be on the same team as you? Also yes. He should’ve known you were going to say no anyway.

While you were still fuming you hadn’t even realized the boys had started the game. Not even a minute in and you were already slacking on your end of the bet. You propped yourself back up for a moment to watch. You could see why Mingyu had asked for your help. Wonwoo and his team were dominating so far, and you couldn’t help but admire how fit your boyfriend looked as he served the ball to the other side of the court. You licked your lips absentmindedly, ready to pull him back to the car right fucking then.

You forced yourself to stop watching the game stood up from your towel, brushed yourself off, and began walking towards the water. You made sure to pull your bikini bottoms as far up your ass as you could in the process just to get Wonwoo’s attention as you walked past the volleyball net. Sure, you’d agreed to go swimming with him after the match, but you’d never promised to wait for him.

As you made your way down to the shore, you noted that not only Wonwoo’s head turned to watch you walk, but all five of the boys cast their attention away from the game and towards you. You glanced behind your shoulder for a second, and caught Mingyu’s smirk. He took advantage of Wonwoo’s lapse in concentration to spike the ball back over to their side and score a point.

You heard some yelling and protestation, but pretended to ignore it and continued to wade into the water.

It was warmer than you thought it would be, and deeper. There was a steep drop a few feet in that you might have tripped over if you weren’t careful. You only ended up staying in the ocean for a few minutes; Wonwoo couldn’t really get distracted by you if your whole body was submerged underwater. You weren’t there to swim around anyway, just to get your bathing suit wet so it would stick to your body.

You’d worn one that didn’t have pads in it so you knew that once you got out of the water the whole beach would be able to see your nipples poking through the fabric. You didn’t have a problem with that. Wonwoo might.

While you were down there you got your hair wet too, just for good measure. Might as well pull out all the stops since a hundred dollars were on the line.

You weren’t sure what the score was by the time you made your way back up to your towel, but you didn’t make an effort to ask. What you did know, though, was that Wonwoo was getting frustrated. Even from where you were you could see that his jaw was clenched and his brows were furrowed.

The opposing team seemed to be doing just fine though, and you stopped to watch them high-five each other after Mingyu scored another point by slamming the ball over the net onto Wonwoo side of the court.

“Damn, nice one, Gyu!” you called out from where you were standing, giving him a big smile and thumbs up. It was sort of dorky, not to mention a cheap shot, but if you knew Wonwoo as well as you thought you did, it’d be the perfect thing to rile him up.

“Thanks, y/n!” he shouted back and winked, ignoring the weird look Hansol gave him. “It’s about time you started rooting for the winning team!”

You struggled not to laugh when you looked back over to the other side of the court and saw all three boys scowling at Mingyu. You didn’t even know why he needed you in the first place, he knew how to push their buttons so well already.

Wonwoo’s fists were clenched now, and he looked this close to tackling his best friend to the ground. The two of you weren’t even flirting with each other, not really, but Wonwoo was the most competitive person you knew and it wasn’t always the best color on him. For you to be cheering for the team that he’s not on, and for that team to be winning- there was no doubt in your mind that he was royally pissed. Not to mention, that you just so happened to be cheering for his attractive best friend who may or may not have mentioned having sex dreams about you once or twice in passing.

It was good, but it wasn’t enough. Soonyoung made some offhand comment about how close the scores were so you knew you needed to keep going. You turned your attention away from the game again and lowered yourself down on your stomach on top of your towel and casually undid the strings of your bikini top to “sunbathe”.

If anyone asked it was so you didn’t get tan lines on your back, it was something that a lot of women did. In reality, however, you didn’t give a shit about tan lines, you just wanted to see how Wonwoo would react.

You pulled out your book to read while you tanned, tuning back into the game every once and a while to see how it was going. You could hear Soonyoung and Seungkwan yelling at Wonwoo to ‘pay attention’ or ‘snap the fuck out of it’ and smiled to yourself, excited for what was to come.

After several more minutes, your bathing suit was almost dry and you were starting to fall asleep on your towel. The volleyball game was taking way longer than you anticipated and you just wanted Mingyu and Hansol to win already. You didn’t have any other ideas to distract your boyfriend so you hoped they could pull it off.

Then, what you would call a fucking miracle happened. You were still nearly dozing off on top of your book when a pink Frisbee landed on the sand right in front of your face.

“Sorry about that!” called the voice of its owner and you squinted to see him jogging over to you. A few of his friends weren’t far behind and they all congregated in a little group in front of your towel. They looked to be about your age, maybe a little older. “Sorry to wake you up,” the ringleader apologized again, but smiled like he wasn’t really that sorry.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, one hand holding your loose bikini to your chest, while the other handed the Frisbee back to smiling guy. “No worries, I didn’t mean to fall asleep anyway.”

“What’s your name?” Ringleader asked. “I’m Jeonghan, and these are some of my fraternity brothers.”

Of course. You should’ve guessed. They were all jacked, tan, and had an air of privilege about them that you couldn’t miss. They were objectively cute, sure, but nothing in comparison to your boyfriend playing volleyball behind you. Not to mention their pack mentality freaked you out a little.

“I’m y/n,” you said and held your free hand out to them to shake, still keeping your other hand on your bikini top so you wouldn’t flash them. “Are you guys on a holiday break or something?”

“Yeah, just trying to make the most out of our last few days.”

“You from around here?” another boy asked, not being subtle at all in the way he was eyeing you.

“No, we just took a little day trip,” you explained and cleared your throat, wondering how long they’d stick around and when Wonwoo was going to come over and dick you down out of jealousy.

“We?” Ringlea- Jeonghan asked, cocking his head to the side. “Are you here with your friends?”

“Her boyfriend, actually,” Wonwoo piped up calmly from behind you. You looked back and saw him standing a few feet behind your towel with his arms crossed. He could be annoying, but fuck if he didn’t have good timing.

“Oh-uh, well I was nice to meet you.” Jeonghan mumbled abruptly and nodded to his friends to get back to their Frisbee game. They were gone before you could even say goodbye back.

“Attracting all sorts of attention today, aren’t you, love?” Wonwoo sneered and knelt down beside you.

His words went straight to the heat between your legs and you turned over onto your back to get a better look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, daring him to challenge you.

“I think you do, y/n,” he continued. The way he whispered your name sent a shiver down your spine. “I mean, you’re practically naked in front of the whole beach right now.”

“I’m wearing a swimsuit.”

“You know what I mean. And all for what? To make me jealous? So I’d fuck you? Because you could’ve just asked, baby.”

You whimpered, but didn’t say anything and leaned up to kiss him, desperately wanting to feel his lips against yours. He leaned in too, but stopped just short of your mouth, pulling back a bit to look into your eyes. “I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.”

You moaned softly, wanting nothing more than for him to do exactly that. You weren’t even sure if you could wait to get home at this point, you wanted him inside of you now. He put a hand on each knee and spread your legs apart, whistling in awe at the wet spot on your bathing suit. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.”

“All because of you,” you panted, reaching out for him, but he pulled back.

“You know all of your teasing made me lose the game, right? I couldn’t focus because I was so distracted.” You nodded. “I was so fucking hard the whole match because of what you were doing”

And then your dumbass had to open your big mouth. “So Mingyu told you?”

Wonwoo pulled back, and gave you a confused look, clearly caught off guard. “Told me what?”

“Y/n, that was incredible, you were perfect!” Mingyu exclaimed as he ran up to you and Wonwoo, holding out a hundred dollar bill to you.

You winced as you took it, wishing you hadn’t said anything.

“Y/n, what the fuck?” Wonwoo demanded, even more frustrated than he had been a minute ago. “What were you incredible at?”

“Fucking distracting you, dude. I asked her if she’d be in on the bet with me for a cut of the winnings since you guys had more team members.”

Your boyfriend glared at you. “Is that true?”

“I mean, it’s just a game… and I thought it’d be fun,” you said quietly.

“That’s what you guys were talking about earlier, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, she didn’t need any convincing she was totally down-”

“Mingyu,” you interrupted, pinching the bridge of your nose, “please, if you have any mercy for my pussy please shut the fuck up.”

His face went scarlet and he shut his mouth without further comment.

“So that’s it?” Wonwoo asked, obviously not ready to drop the subject yet. “You’re just gonna sell out your own boyfriend that easy?”

“You said you didn’t want to be on a team with me!”

“Don’t turn this around on me! You’re the one who helped them cheat!”

“Oh I don’t know if I’d call it cheating,” Mingyu interjected again.

“Shut up, Mingyu!” you and Wonwoo both shouted.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Mingyu said quietly. “If I had known it was going to be this big of a deal I wouldn’t have asked her. I just thought I was being clever, that it’d be a fun way to beat you guys, but I’m sorry I went too far.”

Wonwoo sighed and ran a hand through his wet curls. “It’s fine. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

“So… we’re good?” Mingyu asked, holding out a hand to help Wonwoo up.

“Yeah, we’re good. Next time, though, we’re playing fair.”

“Deal.”

“Y/n, you still want to go swimming, love?” Wonwoo asked, turning back to you.

“We’re not- we’re not going home?” Despite everything you were still incredibly horny, and you’d been patiently waiting for Wonwoo to rail you for what felt like hours now.

“Not yet,” he said and helped you to your feet. “Let’s make the most of our beach day.”

“I think the rest of us are going to find an ice cream shop,” Mingyu added. “Winners are buying. Do either of you want anything?”

“No thanks, we’ll hang out here by ourselves for a while.” Wonwoo answered for the both of you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist as you walked down to the water together and you relaxed, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin on yours. Only once you were out of Mingyu’s earshot did he lean down and whisper “your ass is going to be seven shades of red for that little stunt once we get home,” in your ear. Now it was your turn to be distracted.

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback)

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t 

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[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 

You’re not so sure. 

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 

Oh, you loved this man. 

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.��

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[cherrydreamer]

April Prompts #10 Sun and #11 Brass

Another lil entry for the April Prompts challenge Sun & Brass As glad as he is that it’s far, far behind him now, there's a part of Billy that wishes he could go back in time and see the shitshow that was his teenage life just once, one time so he could talk to his teenage self and reassure him that it's all OK. That it works out. That he gets…everything. Acceptance. Happiness. Love. With a guy. With the guy. Steve. The perfect one. The one who's currently basking in a golden glow because someone left the curtains open a crack last night and now there's a whole patch of morning sunlight spilling over one side of the bed. Their bed. Because they spend every night in a bed together because they live together. Happily.  And wouldn't that just be a thing to tell his younger self,

Yeah, I know, it sucks now, and you’re angry at the world cause it seems like it'll always suck for you, but it doesn't, kid, it gets better, so much better. Because you fall in love. And OK, yeah, I’ll admit that sucks for a while when you think it's just you, when you can’t see how it could ever be anything but just you feeling it. But then…then he tells you. He feels it too. And it's…damn, it's everything. Everything. All that shit you want but you pretend you don't cause you think you don't deserve it? Well you get it. I mean it, forehead kisses and holding hands and date nights and flowers and stuffed toys. He damn near breaks you with how much love he has to give. Wants to give. All to you.

Beside him, Steve shifts, grumbling in his sleep, and Billy reaches out to pull him closer, smiling when the little frown on Steve's face disappears the moment he's got his head resting on Billy's chest. And it keeps on coming, Billy would say, all that love. Months of it while you both get out of that shitty town; years of it, through crappy apartments and crappier jobs. That love between you never fucking falters and then one day you wake up and you’ve gotten kinda chubby and he’s got a sprinkling of grey hairs that only make him look even hotter and you’re living together in your perfect little house by the sea with your fat-ass cat lounging on the couch. And you’re both still as madly in love as you’ve always been. Kid, you…you get it. All of it. Happily ever after. And he makes you realise that you did deserve it after all.   Steve shifts in his arms, nuzzling closer, smushing his face right into the crook of Billy’s neck and breathing deeply before letting out a sigh of absolute contentment, and Billy can feel the smile growing on his face.

And damn he’s such a sap. An absolute sap for you. For some reason, he looks at you like the sun shines outta your ass, like some love-struck Looney Tunes character, all heart eyes and dorky grins, and he spoils you rotten and it makes you want to be just as sappy too. To spoil him back. Cherish him. Makes you do shit like spend $50 on some ugly brass frog just because it reminds you of an in-joke you have, and it's worth every single penny to see how much he laughs when he opens it up and he freakin' loves that dumb ornament, he really does, he calls it Freddie and dresses it in a teeny tiny Santa hat at Christmas all because you gave it to him. That’s him. That’s your dork. That’s the man you love.

The thought of the ornament- currently sitting pride of place on their mantle piece with a teeny tiny cotton ball tail stuck to its ass as a nod to Easter- has Billy feeling a sudden, overwhelming rush of love for Steve. The kind of intense emotion that scared him at first, making him want to hide or run away, until he faced it head on and it turned possessive, almost feral, making him reach out with the desire to grab Steve and cover him in bite marks and hickeys, to claim him. And Billy's more in control of it now, letting it fill his heart without spilling out most of the time, but he still can't resist dipping his head down to press kisses against Steve’s temple. Three little pecks, their code from before. From right at the start when neither of them dared to say three little words out loud. They both say those words every day now. Multiple times. Morning, noon and night. But the old system still has its uses.

So just hold on, kid. That's what Billy would tell himself if he could. Just hold on. Cause you get so lucky. So damn lucky. You win the jackpot. It's worth the wait, I swear.

[soupbabe]

Part 4 Characters Reacting to You Saying That You Can Hold The World in Your Hands and Then Holding Their Face

One lengthy ass title, but I've seen this concept from multiple blogs and that shit is so cute?? I live for cheesy fluff so much

~ Josuke Higashikata~

You were hanging out in Josuke's living room, watching him play videogames

It was fun for a while, but 10 min in you got bored and decided to mess with your boyfriend, who blushes easily

"Hey Josuke, I wanna show you something! " You quickly scooted yourself in front of him, not really caring about the game over screen going off in the background

"Hey! C'mon, what's so important that you couldn't wait?" You looked at him with a mischievous smile, "I can hold the world in my hands! " You proceeded to squish his face between your palms and you could see his face turn a light shade of pink and a dorky smile spread across

I don't care if this sounds out of character, dude is the type of guy to say "Aw shucks" unironically. That's exactly how he responds

Did you tease him about his response? Absolutely. Did he get you to stop laughing at him by kissing the tip of your nose? Of course

~Okuyasu Nijimura~

You both were walking around after a date at Tonio's and were goofing off

"Hey Oku, did you know I can fit the entire world in my hands?" "Sorry to break it to you Y/N, but I don't think that's possible. " Queue the plopping your hands gently on Okuyasu's face. "No, look, you're wrong!"

It took him like 5 whole minutes of him trying to understand until he actually got it.

"Huh? Oh,,,OH AWEE BABY THATS SO SWEET" Okuyasu brought you in a bone crushing hug, crying about how that's the cutest thing someone ever told him

He brought his hands up to your face and scattered kisses all over to show extra appreciation

~ Rohan Kishibe ~

Rohan isn't a man to get easily flustered so lately you've been trying to get him off guard and hope for a blush, maybe stutter if you're lucky

It was one of those rare occasions where you were able to get Rohan to take a break from his work and just have him relax with you while you're watching TV

Maybe while in this peaceful atmosphere you could catch him off guard and get him to blush

Quickly you turned towards the artist and held his face in your hands and with a giddy smile you say "I can't believe it, I can fit the entire world in my hands!"

He just kinda deadpanned and with a smushed face "Darling what are you doing? That sounds so cheesy too"

Mission failed. We'll get em next time

In the middle of pouting over your failed attempt, you missed the silent laugh that Rohan made at your statement

~Jotaro Kujo~

Please don't do this I feel like you'd end up causing an accidental ptsd flashback once you say "the world."

~Yoshikage Kira~

Everyday he managed to fit in you and him time before he gets dressed for work and that's usually just you two cuddling and good morning kisses

You were someone who filled up the housewife/househusband role in the relationship, so you savored these moments knowing you wouldn't be able to see him that much throughout the day

"Sweetheart, want to know something fascinating? I can fit the entire world in my hands." It was then you gently cupped his face and gazed into his eyes lovingly. "See?"

Yoshikage gave a small chuckle and held onto your soft hands, soaking up the attention your hands gave him

It wasn't until you tried to move your hands, Yoshikage gripped onto them. Not too harsh, but just enough to keep them there

"No no, keep them there. Let's just stay like this."

~ Yukako Yamagishi ~

You both are a pda couple, typically the cheesy romantic lines and gestures came from Yukako though

But pulling stuff like this wasn't uncommon and you usually said things like that when she gets upset by something

She could be fuming and all you have to do is not even say anything, just gently hold her like you're in a romantic novel and she's already better

"Awe sweetheart, you're my entire world too! I love you so much!"

Neat. Now you're the one being doted on and being squeezed by your surprisingly strong girlfriend

If anyone laughed at or looked at your failed attempt at being the romantic one in the relationship weirdly, she will threaten them and force them to encourage you to do more like that for her :)

~ Toshikazu Hazamada ~

Shh lowkey based off of a headcanon that Hazamada does enjoy drawing a lot and one of his inspirations was Rohan (before Rohan's episode tho)

You were at Hazamada's house, hanging out in his room while he sits at his desk drawing something in his sketchbook

While he was busy, you were giving some affection to his stand, using Surface as a temporary cuddle buddy and using it to give it's user some attention while he's stressing over each hand he draws

Don't get me wrong, you love Toshikazu, but it was getting annoying how often he seemed to neglect giving you proper attention and leaving his stand to do the work for him

"Hey Kazu, look I can hold the world in my hands!" You held the wooden stand close to you and giving it a lil cheek kiss, knowing it was a pet peeve of his when you give too much of your time to his stand rather than himself

Hazamada really went 👁️👄👁️ when the dummy even made a laughing motion at him "B-but why not me!? Am I not your world!?"

"Huh? Oh yea, don't worry honey. I still love you, but right now Surface gets the special boyfriend privileges since it pays attention to me."

[asterroidd]

sho the todorki

↬ pairing: shouto todoroki x reader

↬ synopsis: you like him, he likes you. the problem? sho's in the friend zone and so it's up to mina, the resident match maker, and company to give you guys a lil push.

alternatively: sho being a dork, hence the title

↬ warning/s: profanity lol, a lot of second hand embarrassment, two insufferable idiots, idk if this is too ooc of shouto but just take this dorky version of him

↬ note: a fic dedicated to @puredivinity​ that serves as a welcome gift for joining the sho simp club. luv u mara despite all the cursed images i send

    Class 3-A has four unspoken rules:

    Number one: never play music out loud beyond 8 pm (tried and tested by Denki himself, got blown up by Bakugo)

    Number two: don't leave your room at 2 am or a certain grape pervert would harass you

    Number three: refrain from mentioning crocs to Kirishima. Just don’t.

    And number four: never tell you or Shouto that both of you like each other (just for the sake of entertainment)

    It had become customary to not break these four rules or those who dare break it is rumored to have a thousand year duration of bad luck to be passed down generation after generation.

    That said, Mina was fed up with the mutual pining you and Shouto clearly exhibit. For two years she watched both of you shy and fluster with one another. His face beet red while you a fumbling mess. Truly a sight to behold. It was like watching a romance movie in real time, but without the stupid opening track. 

    At first she thought it was cute, it all started one morning during her first year in U.A. You forgot your jacket that day after waking up late and thus have to rush to get on time. Aizawa would have your head if you weren't there in homeroom. So in your idiocy and frantic state, you forgot most of the essential stuff and that includes, of course, a warm jacket.

    Mina watched as Shouto stared at you from across the room.  With tense shoulders as his gaze constantly drift from your form to his jacket. Her mouth curled upwards, interested with the current situation. It was not every day one could see the infamous Todoroki Shouto so nervous.

    She eagerly kept her attention on him, watching as Shouto got up from his seat and slowly made his way to you with shaky legs. Shouto, barely uttering a word, shoved his jacket to you and rushed back to his seat. At that moment, Mina already knew something was blossoming between you and him.

    And so it basically became her life mission to make sure you and Shouto end up with one another. She made the promise two years ago, and yet here you both were, two dorks that has a crush on each other but couldn't confess even if the world ends that very moment.

    Was it difficult to watch? Yes.

   It took all of Mina's entire being to not push his head into yours. She knows the consequences if one breaks the fourth rule. Two years had already pass and graduation is around the corner, she refuses to accept that both of you aren't a couple. As Class 3-A's resident cupid and match maker, she is more than determined to make sure you and him both end up together. Mina would not be inherently breaking rule number four, just gonna give you guys a lil' push with the help of a friend. And that friend is one that possesses an electrification quirk.

    "Okay, what do we tell (____) tomorrow?" Denki asked.

    Shouto looked over his written notes one last time before nodding and giving his answer, "I'll ask them if they want to have coffee."

    "Good! Make sure to?"

    "I'll make sure to keep eye contact and. . ." he halted, going over his notes once more. "And make sure that I'm smiling."

    Denki flashed him a grin. Clasping a hand around his shoulder and lightly patting it afterwards. "Now, don't forget the lesson I've taught you today. It is important that your date goes smoothly with (____)."

    Shouto eagerly nodded, stars dancing in his eyes. His heart clamored inside his chest, beating in a quick tempo comparable to that of allegro. Sweat accumulated on his palm, in which Shouto then hastily wiped it on his shirt. Despite nervousness bubbling inside his stomach, Shouto admits that he is excited to ask you out.  "Do you really think (____) and I would be a great couple?"

    "Of course, dude! Right, Mina?" Denki turned to his friend. She gave him two thumbs-up, giving fuel to Shouto's confidence for tomorrow's event.

    Now that Denki is done giving him an hour-long lesson about asking you out and things to do in a date, Mina was sure everything would go smooth as butter. Like, what could go wrong? Despite Shouto being a dork and foreign to the concept of love, he still has that natural charm that had some swooning for him.

    Though, she spoke all too soon.

    Mina facepalmed, dragging her palm across her face as Shouto stood frozen before you. She and Denki should've seen this coming.

    "(____)," he started, his voice cracking at the end. Suddenly the discoloration and grime in between the cracks of the wall looks interesting. He kept looking everywhere but you.

    You tilted your head to the side, "What's up, Sho?"

    Heavens above, Shouto loves that nickname.

    The male fiddles with the ends of his shirt, his tongue twisting and throat closing which makes it hard to speak. After class had ended, Shouto came up to you asking if he could talk to you somewhere private. He led you to the area behind the gym where no students are on sight. Well, that is except for Mina and Denki who closely followed behind to make sure Shouto wouldn't mess up his chance. The two stayed low, making sure they are well hidden behind the bush nearby.

   This was now the moment; the perfect chance for Shouto to ask you out after practicing his lines over and over again. It was a simple question: ‘Do you want to have coffee with me this weekend if you are free?”

   Should be easy enough right?

    "I- well- uhh. . ." he scratched the area behind his ear. "D-do you maybe want to free?"

    Shouto paled, he'd done messed up.

    "Wait that's wrong—" he took a deep breath. "Are you coffee this weekend?"

    Really? Really Shouto?

    "Shit— wait! Coffee this free??"

    Can someone take this lost child away?

    Denki bit his inner cheek, hands tugging his hair from second hand embarrassment. He had fate on him; had fate that Shouto had rehearsed enough the night before in asking you out. Guess he was wrong.

    "What do you mean by that?" you voiced out. You were beyond puzzled, unsure what to make of the situation. First he asks to speak with you in private, now he's a stuttering mess. Could it be that he's confessing? Asking you out?

    Your heart quickened at the thought. You were ready to say 'yes'.

    "What I mean is uhh. . ." Shouto wished he has his written notes. "Are you weekend for this coffee?"

    "YES!!" you shout without thinking.

    Wait, what? Hold up.

    "Aight, I'm forcing these two to kiss each other." Mina announced. That’s it. She lost hope for the both of you. You and Shouto need professional help. She adjusted her position, ready to get up and intervene. That is until Denki lay a heavy hand on her shoulder.

    "Wait," he motioned his head to you. Mina huffed, sitting down once more.

    "Sho. . ." you start, a soft smile on your face.

    "Y-yes?" damn, Shouto is such a stuttering mess.

    "Do you want to grab a coffee this weekend? I mean, if you are free?"

    He blinked, your words slowly being registered in his brain. There was a buffer, like an old computer processing 10 kilobyte worth of data. His brain was stuck on 78% in the progress bar. Then, it dawned on him; the cogs and gears turning. It took a full minute for Shouto to understand. "I-. . .I’d love to!" he managed to stutter out.

    Welp, at least that did the job. Denki and Mina released a sigh of relief. High-fiving each other despite the obvious fact that Shouto failed his task.

    But hey, beggars can't be choosers. All's well, ends well.

    You can't believe it.

    You have a date with Shouto. THE Todoroki Shouto. The guy you've had a crush on since your first year in UA. The one that swept you right off your feet the moment you laid your eyes on him. The friend that always had your back. With him struggling to ask you earlier, could it mean that he likes you more than a friend?

    You let out a squeal, pressing the pillow flush against your chest. In total, you've replayed the scene from memory for over fifty times already. You couldn't even concentrate in doing your homework. So you thought instead of doing your responsibilities, you opted to celebrate by screaming and running around your room in glee.

   It wasn't everyday you'd get a douse of serotonin.

   You’ve waited for this day since forever. Day dreaming about Shouto being your significant other; holding hands with him, wrapping your arms around his torso, and kissing his lips.

   The thought brought forth another pterodactyl squeal from you.

   Oh gods, what would you wear? Should it be casual? Semi-formal? Formal?

   A wedding dress??

   No one told you a date was this stressful. You groaned, prying opening your wardrobe cabinet to quickly plan out an outfit. You can’t afford to look stupid and, dare you say, cheap when you’re on a date with the most sought after male in UA.

   Meanwhile, Shouto is also panicking.

   “Look man, you messed up once but that’s okay!” Denki cheered him up. “Experience is the best teacher.”

   “I know but. . .” Shouto took one deep breath, burying his face in his hands. “I-. . .I just froze up the moment I was in front of them.”

   “And that’s normal!”

   The moment you and Shouto parted ways, the male immediately went to Denki for some follow up consultation. Sure, he can fight villains face-to-face without batting an eye. Could freeze half of his enemies without a drop of sweat. Unleash an inferno of fire to defeat his oponent. Tolerate a bunch of fans shoving cameras up his face to get a close-up picture.

   But Todoroki Shouto, for the love of god, couldn’t ask you out without freezing in place and become a stuttering mess.

   “Lighten up man!” Denki nudged his shoulder. “Unleash the tiger inside you.”

   “But I don’t have a tiger inside me. That would be anatomically incorrect.”

   “Look—that’s not the—. . .what I mean is—uhh. . .nevermind. . .” the blond struggled with his words. He had to be careful with what advice he throw at Shouto. That man takes things way too literately. “What I mean is, toughen up. Have confidence on yourself. You’ll have (____) falling for you before you knew it.”

   Which will be easy since (____) is a simp for him, Denki thought.

   Shouto raised his fist then clenched it, determination washing over him. He gave one brief nod to his mentor (that is the personification of Pikachu).

   He can do it. Todoroki Shouto could do it.

   He’d go over his lines a thousand times before the date. He’d make sure he is 110% prepared before the weekend. Denki had made a dent in his schedule just to tutor him how to make you fall in love with him. Shouto wouldn’t let this go to waste.

   Yes, this man is prepared and is on a mission he couldn't possibly fail.

   Scratch that, Shouto’s a mess.

   He pulled the end of his sleeves, his legs bouncing up and down. The male bit the inside of his cheeks, was the weather hot or was it just his insides burning up. Shouto couldn’t sleep the night before, his mind kept him up. It was like 17 browser tabs are open, with three of them frozen, and he doesn’t know where the music is coming from.

   Due to the jitters getting the best of him, Shouto arrived at the agreed destination. . .two hours earlier than what was expected.

   Which wasn’t a problem anyway, since you did the same.

   You huffed, doubling over and placing your hands on your knees. You had ran from your house all the way to the cafe just to make sure you weren't late this time. In attempts to catch your breath, you’ve failed to notice your date standing just a few feet away from you. The minute Shouto laid his eyes on you, fire sparked deep within his heart. Someone pinch him and tell this wasn’t a dream.

   “(____),” he walked close to which startled you.

   “Sho! You-. . . you’re early!”

   “So are you. . .”

   Then silence fell between both of you. Talk about awkward. Who’s idea was it to get these two idiots in a date? If anything, both of you should’ve just left it on mutual pining and save it as a story for the grandchildren.

   Shouto cleared his throat, hands scratching the back of his neck. “Well, since we’re both early. Why won’t we enter the café?”

   You nodded, your voice box failing you. Inwardly, you were screaming your heart out. The embarrassment was just too much for you to handle. You doubt that Shouto would want a second date at this point.

   And so you lagged behind him, keeping a feet distance away from the male. You have a hard time looking at him without making a mess for yourself. Blood rushing your cheeks, it was hard to ignore the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.

   The café was quite small. A handful of potted plants hung outside, the store’s name written in calligraphy, and a few customers visible from the window. The establishment was newly built, Ochako introduced it to you about a week ago. The cheesecake they sell is to die for—it was definitely worth the hefty price.

   A small chime went off as Shouto opened the door. Then it hit you; the strong smell of coffee. You were not a big fan of the beverage, but you’ve got to admit that the scent was pleasant. Without prior warning, Shouto lightly held your hand in his. His thumb gliding over the back of your hand a few times. You took in a sharp inhale, eyes widening at his gesture.

   This is what they do in dates right? Shouto recalled his notes.

   So this is like a DATE date?? Not a friendly date? Somebody pinch me right now, you thought.

   “We should find a table,” he spoke, eyes refusing to make contact with yours. You’ve managed to stutter out an agreement, too occupied with the feeling of his hands. It was so warm—just the way you imagined it throughout the years.

   You could finally die now in peace. Goodbye cruel world.

   Soon enough, you and he are situated on a table near the window. Neither of you dare start a conversation, because god forbid another awkward interaction. Years worth of watching romance series could have never prepared you for such an instance. You wished you should’ve consulted some of your classmates—especially those who have experience in the topic of dating—before coming here yourself. You could try and message them, but you wondered if it would be rude to pull out your phone and ignore Shouto. No, you wouldn’t take the chance.

   “Uh- So how are you, (____)?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

   “Oh, uhhh—. . .” how does one even speak again? “I’m doing well, I guess. . .?”

   That was lame, (____). Lame.

   “How about you?”

   Shouto was silent, you figured he didn’t hear you so you repeated yourself once again. All the while not looking at his direction. It would be better if you don’t see his face or you’ll turn into a puddle of mess.

   But seconds seem to drag to minutes, and that got you concerned.

   “Sho—“ you cut yourself short, realizing that he was staring at you with a lovestruck expression. He looks at you rather softly, like how one would look at a small pet one happens to cross by while walking. The way Shouto kept his gaze at you made you insecure. Was there something on your face? Hair? Shirt? Oh gods, did you smell?

   You wished that, right then and there, the earth would swallow you whole.

   “Sorry I was just. . .” he faltered in his sentence, gulping down his saliva. Shouto then turned his head to the side, a blush ever so present on his cheeks as well as the tips of his ears.

   "Sorry, you're just—just so cute in that outfit that I can’t help but stare."

   His voice was quiet, barely a whisper but you heard it, ironically, loud and clear. Your hand found its way on your mouth, blood rushing to your cheeks as a result of his compliment.

   “Tha-thank you. . .” you’ve managed to croak out, looking down and fiddling with your nails.

   Just. WOW. You can’t believe it. Never once did Shouto commented on your appearance throughout the duration of your friendship with him. What he did was just. . .just so unexpected from him. You find it hard to believe yourself.

   All these years, you’ve hidden your feelings for him. Trapped it inside a chest and swallowed the key yourself. Him falling for you is comparable to that of pigs flying; it was impossible to happen. Yet both of you sat there, like two dorks, a blushing mess while refusing to make eye contact with one another. For once, maybe this time, you could tell him how you feel.

   “I like you. . .” you voiced out your thoughts. It took you a minute to realize what you've done. You let out a small gasp and directed your attention to Shouto. He was also looking at you, baffled. He went silent, his jaw went slack, and eyes wide open, trying to find the words to reply.

   Oh boi, did you made a mistake?

   “(__—“

   “BECAUSE YOU’RE MY FRIEND!” Your jaw tightened, declaring it all too loudly just in case he rejects you. “I like you because you’ve been a good friend to me.”

   You hope you were doing this right.

   Unbeknownst to you, Shouto felt his heart break into two after hearing your added comment. His shoulders slumped down, sadness clouded his features.

   “I. . .I see. . .” he muttered. “I like you too,” he said after a pregnant pause.

   Your whole face lit up. Now it was your turn to look at him with a baffled expression. There was a twinkle in your eye, is this it? The moment of your life?

   “Because you’re my precious friend.” Shouto plastered a smile on his face.

   Oh. Welp, Mina and Denki tried.

   RIP to both of you, forever pushing the other in the friend zone.

ya’ll want a bakugo version of this? (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ✧

[harold231]

It wasn't real

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Posted: 04/30/2021

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None? Maybe a lil angst just a lel bet.

A/N: I think it might be good? Idk You let me know. But like frfr, don't just give me feedback in your mind, put it into words. Also I apparently have a thing for Bucky in a dotted apron soooo yeah.

FYI: time zone/era is open for interpretation. Bucky never became an avenger/soldat and steve isn't part of this one.

The wind that blew around you was warm and sweet with the scent of freshly bloomed flowers. Perhaps it was an act of kindness from some God trying to distract you from the cold bitterness settling into your bones. Closing your eyes you conjure the very memory that left you so desolate.

The sun snuck it's way through the curtains to illuminate the room, effectively disturbing the sleep that you always seemed to be craving. Waking up is always hassle but whenever you remember that you get to spend your day with the only person who tolerates you and you him, getting out of bed is the easiest thing. Bucky is crazy and the damn boy is never in one spot for to long and he always has something to say, but you can't imagine how boring your days would be if you guys had never met. well technically if your parents had never met.

When you were a child you parents had to move to new york for business and they decided that Brooklyn was the place to be. You had been Bucky's neighbor and the first day you guys moved in his mom had dragged him over with the most delicious angel food cake that he so proudly claimed to have made mostly on his own. He just loved cooking and baking since forever, he would tell you that he just liked experimenting with foods but you knew the truth was that the boy liked to eat and didn't have the patience to wait for his mother to come home.

Only a few years after your family had moved to Brooklyn you and Bucky had already built an unbreakable bond. You guys had found a beautiful cherry tree one day when playing tag and had deemed it to be your's and Bucky's spot. Whenever you had a bad day or needed time away from the world you guys would go to the tree and just pick cherries, in the winter time you and Bucky would lay under the tree and kick the trunk so that the snow would fall from the leaves. It was the place where at only 15 years old bucky swore he would open his own Bakery and to quote him "I'm serving my ma's food my way doll, It's gonna be the next best thing to hit New York."

You were laying on the ground with your hands crossed behind your head looking up at Bucky swinging upside down from a branch when he told you all this. You felt something you had never felt before at that moment, looking up at the wild haired boy who loved to eat, loved his family, and had the most ambition you had ever heard from kids your age. Your heart felt full and your cheeks grew warm as you looked up at the same blue eyes you had know for years now, only this time you notice the way they twinkle in the sunlight and how rosy his lips are. Now 7 years laters you and Bucky were preparing to open the very bakery he promised you he'd open. Banners were beautifully strung along the walls and cute retro china was set out, ready to be filled for opening day. There was no hesitation from you when Bucky had asked you to run the bakery with him, you were excited to spend your days with the person you hoped you would spend the rest of your life with.

At around 6:30 in the morning you had arrived at the bakery but it seemed that Bucky had beat you to it. The smell of fresh angel food cake and cocoa danced up your nose as soon as you opened the door. Closing your eyes you smiled at the memories that it brought back. Moving to the back you grabbed your Disney themed apron and placed your bag and coat in its place before scurrying over to the kitchen while trying (and failing) to tie your apron. There in all his dorkiness was Bucky wiggling around to the chordettes. He knew that you loved the 50's aesthetic so he found a way to incorporate it without going overboard, by adding little trinkets, a jukebox, and even those cute little dining tables. In fact at the moment he was wearing a ruffly red polka dotted apron as he frosted some cupcakes.

Apron tied, you were finally ready to get to work. You walked up to Bucky bumping his hip as you reached for some cupcake pans, "Whatcha doin here so early Buck, we don't open until 12" he looks at you with squinted eyes, "The hell are you doing here so early." "Woah,woah,woah completely unprovoked. I'm just saying cuz' you were the one complaining about the opening time being set at 8. Like damn." Breathing out a huff of air he wipes his forehead with a towel "I'm sorry doll, I'm just super nervous and I couldn't sleep so I came to start baking things. I already frosted the ice cream cakes and I just finished the pies, but I was thinking that maybe we needed some cupcakes too, even though we already baked so many pastries and stuff last night I'm worried it won't be enough."

Setting down the trays you move to hug Bucky from behind holding him close to you. "Buck I know we'll do great your food is too good to pass up on especially when it's free." You place a soft kiss to his shoulder " I promise you'll do great, everything you do is amazing you try your hardest at everything Buck, You've worked your butt off and made mine considerably larger to get here, don't start losing your mind on me now." A cute little laugh from Bucky lets you know that he's hearing you and he isn't so stressed anymore. "I just want this to be perfect ya know?" with your head still against his back you nod, "I just want it to be a special day for my special girl."

You couldn't stop the slight blush that rose to your cheeks or the way that your heart suddenly started beating three times faster. You had also wanted to make him something special which is why you had got here so early. Finally releasing your hold on Bucky you straighten your apron out before gathering everything you need for some red velvet cupcakes. Bucky loved your red velvet cake so you loved making it for him. After hours of mixing, baking, and frosting had passed, you guys were rewarded with a bakery that looked as great as it smelled. "Alright doll, I'm heading out, I gotta go get ready. Meet you back here at 12 , Love ya." He didn't even give you a chance to answer as he ran right out the door. "Love you too."

You had stayed behind just a little while longer as you perfected your secret project. Carefully you added snowflakes to some of the cupcakes because you knew how much he loved snow even if he hated winter, some cats, flowers that reminded you of bucky, and one extra special cupcake. When you finish you decide to clean up a bit more and prepare some drinks for later before heading home to get ready. As soon as you got home you took a shower and did the simplest of make up with a light pink lip. You had decided to wear a dress to match the blossoming flowers that spring had brought. Pink with a yellow lace trim and flowers embroided all over the dress, matching it with some yellow flats.

You had decided that it was a perfect day for a walk so you grabbed a light scarf and slung it over your shoulders, grabbed Bucky's cupcakes, and headed over to the bakery. You felt as if a Hundred pounds had been lifted from your shoulders knowing that Bucky had felt the same way about you. You had decided that you would tell him today with your special cupcakes. As you rounded the corner you felt giddy and you couldn't wipe the smile from your face no matter how hard you tried. As you reached the bakery you saw that a majority of the people had already arrived and you knew that it would put Bucky at ease to see all the people enjoying his food. You stopped at the window, closing your eyes to take a deep breath to prepare yourself to join the celebration.

Opening your eyes you reached for the handle only to stop at the sight on the other side of the door. Bucky stood there arms wrapped around a woman eyes locked on hers as he leaned in for a kiss. It must have all happened in about 30 seconds but it felt as if time himself had slowed it down for you to watch the way he tilted her head and ran his tongue along her bottom lip before finally uniting their lips. Your heart dropped as quickly as your smile did and suddenly you felt so stupid for thinking this could be real. You willed yourself not to cry as you allowed your legs to carry you anywhere but there.

That's how you found yourself sitting underneath a blossoming cherry tree. A tree that held only happy memories because it wasn't a place you could be sad... back then. With your back against the tree and box of cupcakes full of unrequited love in your lap you realize how much you over romanticized Bucky. Opening the box you decide it would be a shame to let them go to waste. The first one you grab has a big red heart frosted in the middle, you let out a deep sigh before breaking the cupcake right down the middle. You shove half of the cupcake into your mouth and only then do you allow the tears to fall. You sat there for hours crying eating cupcakes, watching the sunset, and thinking about everything that Bucky did for you, as a friend. You realize you had no right to be angry at Bucky, after all you never told him how you felt you just assumed that he would feel the same way after so many years. With every broken memory another cupcake vanished.

He was always there for you, when no one wanted to come to your slumber party Bucky did and he even did all the girly things with you. Painting your nails, doing your hair, watching chick flicks, and pillow fights. once he even asserted that no one could protect you as well as he could, when you had decided to go camping with your friend from class so he insisted on taking you himself. Your friend was most noticeably gay so you had assumed he wanted to spend time alone with you. But now that you think back on those memories these are things that anyone would do for their bestfriend. And that's what you realized 8 hours and 11 cupcakes later.

The moon floated above you and as it's white rays settled upon the lake you decided it might be time to go home now. You get up and dust your dress off before leaning down to grab the mostly empty box. Turning around you are stopped again by what's in front of you. Bucky stands there brows furrowed as his eyes flash from you to the box in your hands. "Where the hell have you been, I've been calling you all day." swallowing the lump in your throat you go to answer but are interrupted. " everyone's been asking me about you all night and I had no damn idea what to tell them, but apparently you were just out here being inconsiderate. You go and tell me I can do great tonight, that you'd be there for me, but you weren't." You try to answer him but are again interrupted. "You could have told me something earlier instead of leaving me there like a dumb-" "SHUT UP!" this time it was your turn to interrupt him.

Taking a deep breath you look into his eyes before explaining. "Of course I was ready to be there today, you think I wore this dress to sit under a damn tree? Well I didn't. When I left my apartment I was ready and I was excited, so excited. I couldn't even stop smiling on my way over, but then I got to the shop and I saw-" Immediately you stopped as you realized what you were about to say. He cocked an eyebrow and shook his head slightly as if to say 'Hello?' "You saw what? What did you see that would make you abandon ship just like that?" Shame flushed through your being and you could no longer keep eye contact. "Nothing, you know what, it doesn't even matter. I'm sorry I was being dramatic I should have been an adult and dealt with it on my own time. And I'm sorry I abandoned you all, but the night was about you anyways."

"The night was supposed to be about the both of us so it does matter if you saw something that made you want to leave. Just tell me doll, what did you see?" his voice is soft as he pleads with you. "I saw... well I saw you kissing that lady and I just wanted get away and ended up here okay!?" You said it all in a jumble hoping that he wouldn't be able to understand what you had said. But luck wasn't your friend so of course he did. "So seeing me kiss another person was so gross to you that you had to run away, what the hell? are you 13 again?" You hadn't admitted it outloud yet and it seemed that the dumbass in front of you was going to force it out of you.

Stepping around Bucky you pull your scarf tight around your body as you focus on not crying anymore until you get home. You distract yourself by thinking of all the love you saw in all the little things Bucky did for you. Dancing around the newly furnished bakery body against body as frank sinatra brought you heart to heart, watching rom-coms and ugly crying together, but by the time you get home you force yourself to face the ugly truth. The Love was always in your head. It wasn't real.

A new wave of tears blurred your vision as teardrops fell perfectly to the ground. "It's because I have feelings for you Bucky, and I now know you don't feel the same way." Sniffling you don't bother looking up because your heart is to broken for that right now. "I'm Just gonna need a little bit of time and I'll be back good as new like nothing even happened." Still unable to lift your gaze from the ground you decide to focus on the last cupcake left in the box. 'I Love You' is written in tiny light blue frosting letters. "I uhm, uhh." That brought your attention to Bucky, as embarrassment pulsed as strong as ever through your veins. " You don't have to say anything Buck, It's fine, I'll see you next week, on monday" you hand him the box as you go to pass him "I think you would have a better use for this than me I ate 11 others already so."

Divider credits: @firefly-graphics

[clonecaptains]

can we see the essay????

ajkhkJGHKSGJHKJ omg ok so this is my "why ted lasso is my soulmate" - i made my friends read this, but im tweaking it a little for this post because in my first one i felt like i left out too much! sorry this is long :x

so i started the show because my best bud @clonecaptainrex recommended it to me and i just on a whim started it. i had no idea what it was about, all i'd seen was random stuff about roy (cuz he's every fuckin' where ;) ) and jason sudeikis was in it. ive loved sudeikis on snl over the years but i'd not seen him in much else.

pretty soon after i started watching it - i fell in love w/ ted's character. i was already intrigued because he's an american football coach and ive had this football coach fantasy since i was?? 11? maybe? of marrying a football coach alkgjsgsj cuz i LOVE football (go cowboys!) so that was the first thing that got my attention.

if ur reading this im assuming you've watched the show. or maybe not! but if you do watch it - then you know how SWEET ted is. the overall sweetness and dorkiness and THE PUNS got me good. im the pun queen of my friend group and all of ted's dumb lil puns and dad jokes had me in tears.

there's such a comfort w/ ted tho. warmth. he's like a warm tight hug or a mug of hot cocoa in your hands, sweet to the taste. he's happy, eager, FUNNY. even when ppl are awful and unkind to him he still forgives them and smiles anyways. even when it hurts. and whenever anyone hurt him i was ready to burn the world down for him.

the way he remembers things about people?? the lil treats and gifts he makes? one of my biggest things is i often feel 'overlooked' and he's the type who wouldn't like that happen. and it's like?? knowing that he'd look after me had me emotional. he's such a hype man. and toxic masculinity who?? wearing nail polish to practice cuz he wanted to help rebecca find the right color??? and how when he slept w/ sassy she noted how EAGER he was to please her?? omg every word out of his mouth made me laugh or smile and my face would hurt after each ep just from smiling. he's encouraged me?? and i just. he lifted my spirits so much my therapist even noticed.

and his anxiety issues? omg. that spoke to me and i get him. it made me hurt for him. but i love knowing that he would understand. but even still he's positive thru all the pain he's been thru - and that's why i try to do in my life. this is the more~ personal part but ted makes me feel SAFE. you're not waiting around for the other shoe to drop. and he's NOTHING like my dad who i have tremendous issues w/. ted is so nonthreatening and that's not like brownie points for him - i just love how that makes me feel.

sudeikis is tall and has more of a normal/dad bod body type and i LOVE. ive always been into tall boys and he has hella chest hair which if you know me is like. my thing. yeah jason can get it LOL but this just plays into more reasons why i love ted ya know? w/ like,,, every other fictional character i love - there's always a thirst element. if yall know me then you know oscar isaac is My Dude. and ive seen every little thing he's been in and thirsted over it all (not to say i don't love domestic and fluff hcs just as much as thotty ones) but like when i saw dune i had a full on crisis over duke leto spitting on the table. but w/ ted?? WITH TED?? he makes me feel like im in 6th grade and the guy i have a crush on just said hi to me and i wanna go home and scream into my pillow and talk to my friends about it for an hour. i almost CRIED thinking about holding ted's hand ok. i honestly don't remember the last time i had a crush like this that felt so ?? innocent?? or just like LGKJSKHJGWHJGKJAH about his whole being?? not just how he looks or thirst or whatever. it's like? thirst was an AFTER thought for me w/ ted. it's almost like i couldn't HANDLE thinking about it. something about it feels different w/ him and?? idk how to put it into words.

i wanna do everything w/ ted. idc what it is. i wanna go to a birthday party with him. do holidays or go to the zoo. watch tv. watch football together ahhh. he would make everything fun and he's the exact kinda person i wanna marry and it hit me so hard watching it.

there's a line - i can't remember the exact wording - but he's talking to the players about growing up and ted mentions a girl making him feel squiggly inside. that line was in my head for days. it made my stomach churn. the mere thought of someone like him feeling like that about me??

but here's the real kicker - sweet ted is a southern boy. and im from the south too. hearing his southern accent gets me feeling all kinds of ways. seeing him hold the door open for women and his just general cheery attitude and his southernisms is all such a comfort to me. i KNOW ppl like him. he's what southern ppl should be like, and they do exist.

if youve read all this then hello and thank you LOL. but the point is that ted makes me feel safe and i could see myself being happy w/ him in any capacity. i just wanna be around him. i wanna do anything and everything w/ him.

there's more i could say and some more VERY personal things i could say but maybe some other time.

i suppose for yall to really know how much he's my soulmate you'd have to know ME lol but this is a lot of why im considering him my fictional character soulmate. thank yall for reading~!

[yunhowhoitiss]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 '𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐟𝐞𝐦)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k+ words

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: misc, fluff, a lil suggestive

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’ve only just moved into your new house with the help of your fiancé’s friends, and it’s already utter chaos.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, ateez are dorks wbk, yeosang gets handsy, reader is embarrassed but takes revenge asap (let me know if I've missed anything ^^)

𝐚/𝐧: hey everyone! it’s been a while, I know, but I really wanted to post something for valentine’s day so here I am :) I hope you all have a gorgeous day, you’ve earned it <3

masterlist

"Boys, the lemonade's almost ready!"

The tingle of lemons tickled at your nose as you inhaled the odour of the sour fruit. You squeezed the last of the lemons into the glass jug on the counter in front of you.

Your fiancé's friends we're at your house to help you paint the walls of your newly-bought house, and you'd all been busy since the early morning.

Pouring a generous amount of sugar into the jug, you stir the soon-to-be lemonade with a long spoon. (Last summer when you made lemonade for the boys, San whined that it wasn't sweet enough, so you remembered to put in just a little more this time.)

Although you had called for the others already, there was no sign of them coming upstairs.

"Hey, dipshits, come get your lemonade!" You yelled at the top of your lungs. Again, no answer. At this point, you knew they were teasing you, as they always did. You sighed heavily, knowing you'd regret what you were about to do.

"Oh," you feigned wistfulness, "I wonder where those handsome, striking men are. I guess they don't want any lemonade. My heart longs for them to quench their thirst!" Your impression of a damsel in distress was audibly half-assed.

As if on cue, Mingi and Wooyoung ran up the stairs, followed by the other six men coming up the steps as well. San, Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Jongho situated themselves on the ground in the living room area, still devoid of furniture. You had yet to buy any for the house.

"Is that seriously what it takes for me to get your guys' attention? Calling you handsome?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Wooyoung grinned mischievously, obviously proud of himself. He hopped up on the counter while Mingi stood next to you, looking innocently over your shoulder. Yunho joined in on the conversation, searching the kitchen cabinets for any cups.

"Well we are handsome, aren't we?" He chuckled cockily, reaching for a pack of paper cups on a shelf.

"Right?" Mingi chimed in, looking at you to see if you'd agree.

You look at them with your mouth agape; you couldn't believe the audacity they had. Before you could say anything, Yeosang finally came up the stairs, having overheard your conversation from afar.

"Hey, stop trying to squeeze compliments out of my wife, your egos are big enough as they are," he chastised playfully.

"She's technically not your wife, though," Wooyoung contested. Having known him for years, Yeosang knew Wooyoung didn't mean anything by it, but he threw him a cold glare nevertheless.

"Yet. Not my wife yet."

"So she can only compliment you, is that it?"

"Exactly."

The other men snickered at the both of them, clearly used to seeing them bicker all the time. Yunho filled nine paper cups with lemonade, giving everyone their drinks. Ignoring the immature conversation at hand, Seonghwa craned his neck to see you from where he sat.

"Y/n, could we get lunch soon? I think I speak for everyone when I say that I would kill for a burger right now." Upon hearing the word 'burger' most of the boys hummed and groaned in longing, almost drooling at the thought of it.

"Of course! I'll help Yeo out in the office to finish up what painting there is left to do, and you guys can get cleaned up and ready to go in the meantime. Sound good?" They all nodded yes at your proposal, some already making their way to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

Gulping down the rest of your lemonade, you threw the cup away and headed towards the office. Yeosang held a paint roller in both hands, finishing the last wall that needed to be painted. The thick paint dripped down his wrist, creating a long grey streak along his forearm.

"Messy as always, Yeoyeo," you sighed, taking one of his paint rollers. You dipped your finger in the paint on his wrist and booped his nose, painting the tip of his nose grey.

"Hey! That stuff's hard to clean off!" Yeosang tried to see the paint on his face, obliviously crossing his eyes. You giggled fondly at his cuteness; you could never understand how someone so witty could be so dorky. Yeosang's face fell upon hearing you laugh at him, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. Your attention turned to the wall in front of you; you worked hard to paint as much of the surface as possible, unaware of Yeosang's actions. He painted both his hands grey, making sure the wet layer covered his whole hand.

"Y/n..." He whispered calmly. He made his way to stand behind you, tucking his face in your neck. He kept his painted hands behind him, hoping that you wouldn't notice.

"Yeosang, what are you doing? Help me paint."

He ignored you in favour of pressing gentle kisses into the crook of your neck, tracing his lips up to your ear. Your focus was drifting from the wall, all too distracted by Yeosangs lips so close to your ear. Before you could question him, his teeth nipped at your ear suggestively, catching you off guard. You turned to face him, only to be met with your fiancé's goofy smile.

"C'mon, we need to keep painting, love," you sighed exasperatedly.

"But baby..." Yeosang was proud of himself for the facade he was putting up, briefly wondering if he should've just become an actor. His lips met your forehead with an affectionate kiss as he brought his hands out from behind his back. His arms snaked around your waist, hands casually resting on your ass. This was something he did often, so you didn't think to question it. Following a playful squeeze, Yeosang took a step back, careful not to let his suspicious behaviour show. He stuck his painted hands in the pockets of the paint-stained overalls he wore, careful not to let you see.

"Why are you smiling like that? It's weird." You squint cheekily.

"I'm not smiling."

"Yeah, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Y'know what, we can paint later. I'm hungry."

On that note, you peeked out from the doorway, checking to see if the boys were ready. Yeosang was trying his very best not to laugh, but you were too preoccupied to notice.

You exited the office room, Yeosang following your lead, and walked past the kitchen to reach the bathroom. "Just a minute, guys, I'm gonna go get cleaned up and then we'll be out of here," you assured the boys. They were crowded around the kitchen counter, finishing every last drop of lemonade. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Seonghwa's hand fly to his mouth. Hongjoong and Jongho were red with what seemed to be embarrassment; the others pursed their lips in futile attempts to stifle their boyish giggles. Yunho probably made another dick joke, you told yourself, rolling your eyes.

Just as you passed a mirror that Yoesang had unboxed the day before, two shapes on your shorts caught your eye.

Grey patches? No. Grey... handprints.

"Kang Yeosang!"

The boys finally broke down in peals of laughter. Having known them for years, you weren’t all too embarrassed, you were even tempted to laugh along with them. Instead, you opted to throw a threatening glare at your fiancé , who raised his hands before saying "It wasn't me!"

"What do you mean it wasn't you— your hands are literally grey!" You stomped toward him, reaching for his sides. "Woo, hold his arms back!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Your fingers tickled at Yeosang's sides as Wooyoung held his arms behind his back; San pulled out his phone to record him. Upon deciding that you'd done enough, you went to change into another pair of bottoms, leaving Yeosang panting on the ground and his friends teasing him. When you came back, Yeosang crouched on the floor, tieing his laces. The other boys had already gotten their shoes on and headed out the door.

"You're paying for the food, hyung!" Jongho chirped as he stepped out the door. As Yeosang stood up, you cheekily jumped on his back, letting him give you a piggyback ride to the car. You kissed his cheek from over his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his front.

"I'll get you back for that, Yeo. Watch your back," you feigned menace.

"Mhmm, of course baby."

"And you owe me a new pair of shorts."

The silver ring on your left hand sparkled in the corner of his eye, and although you couldn't see, an enamoured smile spread across his face. He pressed a loving kiss to your hands crossed over his chest.

"Anything for you, love."