#he dresses like an idiot it could honestly be anything

[star2fishmeg]

i can’t even lie i’m the biggest fan of angst to comfort with luke, could you possibly do something with that💕:)

His door opens cautiously, curls unruly and slept on, t-shirt crumpled but when his sleepy eyes fall upon you, he stands up straight, instantly flattening his hair with his palm and opening the door wider. He can't decide whether you look miserable or relieved, your lips quivering yet your shoulders are perfectly relaxed. Hell, he just woke up from a nap, he can't decide anything.

"Y/n? What are you doing- I thought you were going on that date?" he croaks, voice husky. He steps aside, allowing you to shuffle in and remove your shoes.

You're inside a safety net. You feel your eyes well and meet Luke timidly. His face softens, strong arms engulfing you, and suddenly, the world falls silent, and the wall you built crumbles in his hold. Your ear presses to his chest, the tears falling from your eyes soaking into his t-shirt. His grip tightens, his hand stroking your hair delicately.

"...I cancelled. It's over. I made the wrong choice, Lu." You cry with a breaking voice, but you're crying and let the emotions pour out your chest with heat flushed to your cheeks, "I'm such a fucking idiot."

If hearts could physically shatter, Luke's would have. Into a million finite pieces on the floor. His feet start moving backwards, yours following his guidance until his knees hit the sofa, pulling you onto his lap, swinging your legs over and cradling your body to his chest.

His words are gentle and thoughtful, his tone calm and his heart thunders in his chest. You've come to him. Expected considering you've been good friends since college, but you came to him for comfort. "No, no, you're not an idiot. Talk to me, I'm all ears. Why'd you cancel? You were so excited."

God, you hate that he was right. You were excited. The butterflies, the compliments, the dates, they were fun, they felt good, filled with adoration. Yet, the guy never felt right. Like an imposter, like you were supposed to be sharing those moments with someone else, someone who loved you regardless of anything. Someone who actually had an interest in you.

"I thought about it. I thought I was excited but turns out not about the guy, he’s not…he’s not anything to me. All the fun little dates were exciting, spending time and just, I don't know, being part of these other couples around me, but honestly..." your sobbing stutters as your tears roll violently down your cheeks, but it's hard to fall apart when Luke's cradling you so securely.

You tilt your chin up, peering up at him with red eyes but he's already gazing at you. He brushes loose strands of your hair out of your face, with such a featherlight touch it feels like he's sporting a halo above his head. He cups your cheek and his thumb soothing over your cheekbone slows your heartbeat back to stability.

"I wasn't as excited anymore after I left you the other day. It kinda just...faded. I thought I'd give it a chance but...I couldn't. It wasn't the same, Luke." You calmly confess, gaze shifting to his lips before back into his eyes, those forever glossy eyes you find yourself unable to look away from. The eyes that only ever pay attention to you and you know that you've seen that.

He swallows hard with flustered cheeks, "So, you dressed all pretty just to come here?"

"Wanted to see you..." it takes a moment for you to process his words, his touch against your skin so gentle it's intoxicating and has your brain dizzy. With a voice above a whisper, "You think I look pretty?"

Luke nods slowly but surely, licking his lips and searching your eyes for something of an opportunity. His stomach flutters and he's certain, certain that he knows where this is headed and that he can finally find peace within himself.

"Always, since I met you. Miss you every time you leave. Jealous whenever you went on a date. Wanna be with you all the time…just want…you."

Your fingertips lightly press to his jaw on instinct, "...you were the right choice. But I was scared of...ruining us."

His lips pull up into a small smile, chest blooming with warmth and it's as if the world has burst into colours. He's only ever dreamed of this moment, where you're in his arms and telling him that this whole time, you've felt something back. You thought you'd cry again, yet the smile on his face only encouraged your own, fingers sliding down his neck to tangle in the curls at his nape.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore, m'right here. All yours, I've got you." He leans in, and you're leaning in too like magnets until soft lips meet for a tender kiss. A genuine one that's closed mouth and long-awaited with yearning.

When you both pull away, gazes locked, hands on each other, he dips back into you, passionately this time and you're keeping him in, close. You had your suspicions, yet what were you so afraid of if Luke's feelings were blatantly obvious?

[apple-jorts]

I have an important question for you Terrance nation !!

How do you artistically interpret Terrance’s pant-shorts?? I personally interpret them as high rising socks and shorts, but I’m curious how u guys see it!!

Lil poll for funsies 😄

Edit: good info guys, I don’t think this coulda ended any better than a three way tie. Final verdict is that he alternates depending on the weather 🙏

[itneverendshere]

Hii i love the bitchy!pogue!reader series and i would love to know how they first hooked up again, like what led them to keep going after their first night together. That's all, thx in a advance if you do it, i love your writing

the way i ran to write this lmao, thank you for the request ❤️ let's just say it wasn't planned at alll....it was fate👀

in spite of myself - drabble

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

you swore the first time was the last.

you were simply… curious. you wanted to figure out just how far you could push his buttons without him taking it out on you.

you got your answer. you went to that party with the sole intent of pissing him off, but you hadn’t planned on ending up in his bed—not that you’d ever complain. but that was it.

you’d gotten your taste, of course you weren't expecting to run into him so...soon.

you’d learned to play along for these little trips into kookland. your cheap dress, bought solely to get you through the gates, hugged you a little too close—but that was the point, wasn’t it? you made a show of adjusting the neckline, scanning the room with that perfected boredom.

the moment you spotted him across the room, you nearly snorted, because of course he was here.

rafe, in all his buttoned-up glory. hair slicked back like he’d asked his barber for the "douchebag deluxe," wearing a shirt that probably cost as much as your entire car. he looked so at ease among his kind, you wanted to pat him on the head and give him a treat.

bingo.

he was pretending not to see you, standing there with some stuffy old kook in khakis so aggressively white they probably had a staff meeting dedicated to their upkeep.

but you could spot it: the clench in his jaw, his fingers twitching around his glass.

honestly, it was too easy. you’d barely taken a few steps in his direction, and his grip tightened like he was trying not to crush the glass just at the sight of you.

aww. you hadn’t come here for him, but the opportunity was irresistible, how could you say no to that face?

you took your time, internally giddy at how his stiff he looked the closer you got. you let out a soft, exaggerated sigh as you finally slid up next to him at the bar, taking your time, letting your eyes glide over his shoulders and back down to those broad, broad arms.

god, look at those arms, you thought.

this idiot must curl yachts for fun. absolutely absurd.

his gaze snapped to you, “what the hell are you doing here?” he gritted out, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

poor thing, always so snappy.

you brought a hand to your chest, going for maximum innocence.

“who, me?” you blinked, leaning in with a soft, honey-dripping sigh. “just networking with the local elite. isn’t that what i’m supposed to do if i want to ‘rise above my station’?” you savored the horror flashing across his face.

rafe looked personally offended, like you’d just announced you were taking up golf, while you let your eyes drop to the line of his shoulders, lingering just a little too long on his chest before dropping.

slowly, slowly.

his face twisted like he was in pain, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, protecting himself from the way you were very clearly undressing him with your eyes.

“cut that shit out,” he ground out, “i know what you’re doing.”

you raised an eyebrow, “doing what?” you shot him a wide-eyed, who, me? look, letting your gaze dip again. “i’m not doing anything.”

his face flushed as he hissed, “you’re doing it right now! act normal for once.”

he pulled away from you as if your pogue germs might rub off on him, but you’d seen that look on his face before.

“honestly, if you didn’t want attention cameron, maybe don’t wear that. kind of a slutty choice, don’t you think?”

his neck flushed deep red as he scowled. “excuse me?”

you shrugged, “just saying. last time, you had a lot to say about my outfit, didn’t you?”

“you’re fucking insane. leave me alone.”

you smirked, leaning closer, “oh, baby, i’ve already got what i wanted from you,” you purred. “unless, of course, you’re offering again?”

his jaw tensed, and he looked away as if even looking at you would ruin his day. but he was still here, wasn’t he?

“don’t flatter yourself. i’m done with you,” he muttered.

you shot him a wicked grin, “flatter myself?” you let out an exaggerated laugh, turning heads nearby. “i’m here on a date.”

rafe’s smirk dropped, and he cast a quick, possessive look around the room before moving his attention back to you.

“a date?” he repeated as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

you nodded as you pointed toward the back, where your “date”—some poor kook with a summer tan and daddy’s credit card—stood waiting near the hors d’oeuvres table, oblivious.

“did you think i came here just for you?” you tilted your head, letting the words sting. “i don’t do repeats, country club. got what i wanted, remember?”

he looked like he was about to set the place on fire, blue eyes narrowing as he glared at your so-called date. you could sense the gears turning in his head. god, this was just too easy.

“maybe you should run along, hmm?” you said, your voice light and mocking. “can’t imagine what your country club buddies would think, seeing you all worked up over a pogue.” you flashed him a dazzling smile before tossing a wink, then spun on your heel, leaving him there seething.

you could feel his stare burning into your back as you sashayed over to your “date.” this was way too fun.

lunch was mind-numbing, but free, so you were perfectly okay tolerating the “date”—or, as you preferred to call it, the idiot with a wallet—while he droned on about his family’s fleet of yachts or some bullshit about generational wealth. you nodded along, not listening as he bragged. as if you even gave a fuck.

when he finally paused to shove more overpriced pasta into his mouth, you decided you needed a break from the snooze-fest.

“excuse me, i’ll just pop to the ladies’ room,” you murmured, batting your lashes like the good, sweet little pogue he thought he’d bagged for the afternoon. as soon as you were clear of him, you rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck.

the second you got into the quiet of the bathroom, you let out a dramatic sigh of relief, shaking your head.

what a fucking bore.

you’d honestly rather be anywhere else—well, except maybe with rafe, since he’d probably drag you back to the ninth circle of pogue-hating hell.

as you were checking your lipstick in the mirror, the door swung open, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

“um, excuse you?” you snapped, eyebrows shooting up. “i know you have a thing for following me around, but the ladies’ room? have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

rafe didn’t answer.

he stalked forward, looking pissed as he backed you up against the sink, boxing you in without so much as a second thought. there was something about the way his forearms flexed when he did that.

ridiculous, he most likely got pumped up just pouring a glass of water.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.

a laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. oh my god.

you clamped a hand over your mouth, but the sound came anyway, echoing off the fancy-ass tiles. “oh my god, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

he leaned in even closer. “you think this is funny?”

“funny?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “it’s hilarious. i’m here for lunch. you know, food? the stuff people eat? he offered, and i like free shit. it’s that simple.”

“you’re doing this just to piss me off,” he accused.

“oh, get over yourself,” you scoffed. “you think i’m obsessed with you or something? i wasn’t even thinking about you until you came barging in here like a lunatic.” you leaned back, giving him a brazen, challenging look. “can you move, by the way? i was enjoying the break.”

his nostrils flared, but you didn’t even care. if he wanted to lose his shit, fine—he was the one who walked in here. you stared him down, totally unfazed, holding his gaze until he broke it.

“careful,” you added, your voice mocking and low. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you were jealous. because, i gotta be honest, you look like you’re about two seconds away from—”

“shut up,” he growled, his face inches from yours, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “you show up here, flaunting yourself like you don’t remember exactly how last week ended, like you weren’t begging me to—”

“oh please,” you interrupted, ignoring the pleasure that traveled up your spine. “let’s not rewrite history.”

his hand gripped your cheeks, blunt nails pressing in from either side as he pulled you close, capturing your jaw to hold you still. the pressure of the squeeze pulled your pouty lips together, forcing you to look up with wide eyes.

“stop talking."

you tried to smirk around his grip, feeling the bite of his fingers, but your words came out muffled.

“what’s wrong, country club? can’t handle a little conversation?”

“just can’t help yourself, can you?”

you could hardly nod, your eyes gleaming with defiance as you let out a small, mocking hum of agreement.

his hands slid down from your cheeks to cradle your jaw, fingers firm as his mouth pushed against yours. you giggled into the kiss, entirely too pleased with yourself as you tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling until he groaned.

“this is the last time,” his voice was ragged against your lips, but the words sounded half-hearted, he was trying to convince himself.

you smirked, pulling back just enough to catch your breath, tilting your head to test him, see if he’d let you go. instead, his hand was already sliding up your neck, his thumb tracing the line of your lips, holding you right there.

“you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he whispered, breathless. “think you can just look at me like that, say whatever you want…”

“who says i can’t?” you purred, lips brushing against his as you taunted, “if you don't want this, maybe you should go.”

his grip tightened, a curse slipping past his pretty lips, streaked with the deep red of your lipstick, glossy with both your spit.

and fuck, did he look good like that��disheveled, unguarded, his face painted with your lipstick like a silent confession of just how far he’d let himself go with you despite his fucked morals.

rafe let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours as he muttered, “last time, swear to god.”

[mimikittysblog]

The Princess - Bonus Ending

Full story! ♡

Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst if you squint really hard.

Synopsis: You found the traitor.

Warnings: Death, Violence, very slight MxM, some descriptions of gore. ⚠️MNDI⚠️ If I missed anything then please let me know!

Word Count: 1.8k Words

A/N: Hehe surprise! An extra ending 🤭 I wanted to add this on in the actual fic, but I liked where it ended off too much. So I decided to make this into a bonus ending where you could read it if you want, or just ignore it if you don’t. Hope you enjoy this too!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

It has been a little over a week since your kidnapping. Things also have finally gone back to normal.

Except…

“Joooooooonggiiiieee!!!!!”

The yell for the captain of ATZ can be heard throughout the entire mansion, along with the sound of stomping pretty pink high heels.

“Oh my.”

“Well aren’t you in trouble”

Soon the door to Hongjoongs office was bursted open revealing the little fireball of which they call ‘Their Princess.’

“Oh princess.. whats the matter??”

That question only made your frown grow and eyebrows furrow even more.

“You promised we’d finally go shopping today! You said you wanted to dress me up! I’ve been waiting in the living room for over an hour!”

“Oooohh good luck with that!”

“See ya later our troubled husband! Hope she goes easy on you!”

The boys in the room quickly scatter, but of course not before giving you a sweet kiss and a compliment to your pretty outfit.

“Oh darling.. I’m so sorry!! I got caught up with work! Things have gotten so hectic princess.. there are these idiots that are always giving us trouble! And just….” As he kept going trying to give you reasons he notices your expression hasn’t changed at all, which makes him sigh.

Ever since your kidnapping, your husbands have become too anxious. So now they can’t even put their trust into any new body guards. Especially since the one that has ratted out your existence is still unknown.

So they took it upon themselves to always be your chaperone when you go out. As much of a hassle you thought it would be, it honestly just gives them an excuse to be around you even more. So in the end you just let them do it.

“I’m sorry our princess.. I mean it I’m very sorry…” he says as he gets up and makes his way over to you, pulling you close.

“Do you still want to go now..?”

“Can you go?”

“I have to make it up to you, don’t I?”

“And those idiots??”

“Hmmm well.. why don’t you tell me what I should do to them sweetheart?”

“Hmmmph. Well if they’re giving you guys so much trouble and they’re idiots, I don’t see why you can’t just kill them off and take what you need. We have the resources and manpower, plus you’ve done it before! You did it literally a week ago. You’re ATZ for goodness sake. No one is above you!” You say like it was nothing.

And you were right.

Hongjoong chuckles as he sits down and brings you into his lap.

“While you are correct my love, unfortunately what we need from them, requires them to still be alive. For now.” He explains.

“Ughh fineee…” You groan.

As you opened your mouth to speak again. That’s when a loud shrill screech disturbed the peacefulness of the moment.

“What now?!” Hongjoong barked.

“Oh! That must be my doing!” You said with what can only be described as a maniacal glint in your eyes.

“Oh?”

“Come Joongie! I’ll show you! Then we’ll go shopping!”

“Whatever you desire Princess.” He says with a kiss to your new diamond ring.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“LET GO OF ME!! LET GO!! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG?! UNHAND ME AT ONCE!!”

“Then why did you run?”

“H-huh..?”

Here in the middle of your grand foyer, was a girl being held down by two men on her knees. Behind her, every single one of your maids stood their sights straight down.

While in front of her is where you stood. Tall and proud. Wearing a stoic expression however the glint from earlier still in your eyes.

“Princess?? What do we have here?” Seonghwa asks.

Your husbands have all now gathered around you on top of the staircase. Simply enjoying the show.

You spin on your heels to look up at them with a wide cheshire grin. “You’ll see my loves!”

“Sirs..! Sirs please!! Please help me! She’s mistaken!”

SMACK

“Don’t you dare speak to my husbands.” You growl. “Ugh look at what you’ve done! You’ve gotten blood on my new ring!” Your finger now slightly dripping blood from where the diamond cut her cheek.

“Oh no.. No worries sweetheart, we’ll make you a new one.” San tells you.

“Oooh! Alright Sannie Thank you!”

“Please.. why are you doing this?? What did I do wrong?”

Your laugh then rings out throughout the foyer. Echoing beautifully off the walls.

“Stop your pathetic little act.” You say as you crouch down to her eye level.

“I know you were the one that snitched about me.”

At this revelation your husbands became even more interested than before. They all perked up and blood boiling again now that they finally have the culprit.

“What?! Who even are you??!”

They’re so angry they want to just run down and tear her limb from limb. However they know you have something plan. So they just let you have your fun.

You smirk widens at Wooyoungs question. As you know how reality shattering it is to her.

“W-what..? You don’t.. recognize me?? Sir Wooyoung! I’ve worked here for years!! ..None.. of you recognize me?” She asks pitifully.

As she looks up at all of them, she sees nothing but fury and confusion. Not a single one of them having any knowledge on who she is.

SMACK

“I told you. Do not. EVER. Speak. To MY. Husbands.”

You then got up and turn back to your loves above you.

“My darlings. This here. Used to be one of our maids. And she thought that by getting rid of me. She could have all of you.”

“What?!”

“How absurd!”

“How stupid is what that is!”

“No! Its not true! It’s not! It wasn’t me!!! I-I would never betray any of you!” She continues to plea.

“Then why. Did. You. Run?”

“I-I didn’t..”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice your absence ever since I was returned home? Hah! It’s what gave you away! And you actually thought they would? and what?! go searching for you?!” You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“The day after I returned home from my kidnapping. I realized we were short staffed. It didn’t take me long to realize it was you. When I asked, Kim said you resigned due to health. I didn’t believe it for a second. So I had them search your room. And look what I found!”

At your signal, The head maid Kim stepped forward and gave you a pile of letters.

Love letters.

“Hmm. I’m sure you can guess what these are. You wrote them. Each and every one of them. You didn’t hide them very well. Not sure why you didn’t even just burn or take them with you.” You scoff.

“They’re quite romantic actually… If. They weren’t addressed to my beloveds.”

Her blood has gone cold. She doesn’t know what to do. She can only kneel there looking up at you as she fears her fate.

Unfortunately her fate was sealed the second she began writing these letters.

“I-it’s not.. no… I-I never even gave it to them! Please!! It’s not what it looks like.”

“You thought once you got rid of me. You could swoop in and take my place. However once I came back alive, you decided to run. Thinking I would never suspect you. You then also believed that any of my husbands would realize you stopped being around and come looking for you! Because somehow you have convinced yourself that they’re in love with you! They don’t even know you!!”

“THEY LOVE ME!!!”

SMACK

“Oh. That was the hardest one yet.” Mingi whispers to Yunho. Who nods in agreement.

While on the other side of the staircase Yeosang whispers to Jongho about how this maid is insane to ever think that.

“100%.”

“They don’t. Why would they?” You start then throwing her letters in her face.

“Why would distinguished men like them ever waste space in their brains for a lowly pathetic slut like you? Let alone space in their hearts.”

“…I just..”

“Enough talking. You’ve said far more than you deserve. And frankly I’m bored already.”

You then extend your hand out. One of the henchmen that was holding her down then hands you a syringe.

The girl then panics at the sight of an unknown syringe.

“Wait no please! Whats in that?! What are you gonna do to me?!”

“You could’ve had anything you wanted in this mansion. Anything. And I promise you. I would’ve happily given them to you. My clothes. My shoes. My jewels. My gold. Anything. I’m just that generous.”

You open the syringe cap.

“However the thing you decided to covet? Were the only things that were forbidden. My. Prized possessions. My husbands. And for that. You must suffer the consequence.”

Before she can even let out another sound of protest you injected her straight in the neck.

You and the men holding her down then stepped back as her screams quickly filled the foyer. Her skin and flesh melting straight off of her bones.

“So thats what she ordered acid for.” Hongjoong then mumbles.

“You knew she ordered acid?” Wooyoung asks

“She used my card.” Hongjoong shrugs.

It was a ghastly sight but none of them were even slightly bothered.

Well.

Of course the other maids were.

Once her screams come to a halt. And she was nothing but a pile of goop on the once spotless marbled floor.

You laughed.

Your husbands then descended the stairs.

Once your laughing fit was over you addressed the other maids who were still standing there. Mortified of what has become of their once friend.

“Now all of you. Remember my words. You are free to ask anything you want from me. I have more than enough for multiple lifetimes so I’ll be happy to give it to you. However. If you ever even for a nanosecond think. You could replace me or take any of my husbands away from me. Well. Ask her how that turned out for her.” Fire resonating deep in your voice.

“Thats all. Now all of you clean this up please!” You then say with a bright smile as if the past 20 minutes or so didn’t just happen.

“Come now darling. I believe I owe you a shopping trip.” Hongjoong then says as he puts his hand on your lower back.

“Ah yes!! Lets go! May all my beloveds come with?? Then we can have dinner?”

“Why not?” Yunho says with a bright smile.

Your husband then all lead you out to the car.

“You know no one could ever take us from you. Right Princess?” San says softly to you.

“Of course! I would never let them.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. We wouldn’t either.” Yeosang says.

“They literally can’t our love. You have us all wrapped around your pretty delicate fingers.” Wooyoung adds as he kisses your ring finger.

“I know.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

© mimikittysblog 2024

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie @borahae-reads @spenceatiny18 @justconniez @rosydipity @vtyb23 @beccaskz @boredlol914 @ntlmundy @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @ateezswonderland @peachyy-jooniee @robertsbbygirl @hanniehq @smally97 @pixie0627 @haven-cove @jaerisdiction @btskzfav @bbyunicornbby @tinybada @cecilleasworld @mudent @mortal-advocate @jjcanwrite

Those who are italicized I could not tag for some reason :(

[slytherinboysvip]

Controlling Tom Riddle

Honestly idk what to classify this as, but it’s kinda like idk.. deranged? maybe not but I have more like this up my sleeve if it does well (TW: manipulation, unspoken gaslighting, extremely controlling, idk what else to add)

You loved Tom. You truly, truly did. But he tended to take the term "I just want to lock you up" a little too seriously.

I mean, it wasn’t much at first, barely even noticeable in fact. Simple things such as suggesting what you should wear, insisting the more modest options were much more flattering on you; “It brings out your eyes, doll.”

He would remind you of your favorite foods, and when to and when not to eat them.. “Not now, it’s far too late for late night snacks. However, I have something I think might suffice for you.”

Overtime the helpful things became him controlling everything you wore, no shirts were allowed to be low enough cut for anyone to see down- tall people included. You wanted to comfortably wear your uniform? Absolutely not. It had to be perfect, and to show just how much of a “good girl” you are for him, you get cute bows in your hair every morning; special spell from him.

His behavior didn’t bother you, how could it? Yes you couldn’t wear certain things, but everything you got in return was amazing. Nobody understands him the way you do, they don’t know him like you do. That’s what you’re constantly telling your friends. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s romantic.”

Romance? It really is funny how blurry the lines get between romance and control, dress up per se? Once again with the dressing you- believe me, he spoils your beyond belief. Though, most of it is “My eyes only.” Slowly your closet went from things you’ve gotten from friends, shirts you once loved, to everything Tom approved.

It didn’t matter though, because he still spoils you.

Being in class was an entirely different story. In the beginning you simply couldn’t speak to any other guys, you understood, not wanting him interacting with girls either it seemed fair. Until you couldn’t sit with any of them, problem being, its not like you can just chose where you sit everytime. That doesn’t matter to Tom though, “You seemed to betray me today hun.” Nice name, yet the tone anything but.

It was pretty sudden when Tom just happened to to become your seating partner in every single class, and yes, that somehow included ones he once hadn’t attended. But this was a good thing. You got to be with your boyfriend all day long, that’s so exciting. Watching your every move, telling you what you did wrong on your work “Can’t have a dumb girl, can I doll?”

It was sweet. He was being helpful, you always had help. Just don’t ask for too much, then that makes you stupid, idiotic, dense. That’s according to him though, and yes his words. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’d do without me, you’re just so mindless most of the time. It’s infuriating”

But no matter what it’s always okay because, “You know I never mean what I say, Love. I’ll take you out, even buy you something new”

You see, none of this happened quickly. It was like one moment you controlled your life, the next moment you didn’t. You lived in his dorm, once again don’t ask how, Tom Riddle has his ways. He chose your outfits the days no uniforms were needed, but of course only because “I just love picking out what my girl wears, you love it too, don’t you, hm?”

Now here you are, unable to speak to anyone really, no boys, no friends because well, they only attract unwanted male attention of course. It was crazy to think you’d leave your friends behind for a boy, not just your friends really more like your entire old life, but Tom wasn’t just any boy. No, he had full control over you and you both knew it. You loved it.

I know im saying idk a lot but idk how i feel about this 😭😭

once again i hope you all enjoy <33

[avaredava]

Can I have your thoughts on sexual tension with jjk men? Like the kind where you both want each other and can't do anything about it?

Kisses ❤️❤️

Yeah of course! If this isn't what you mean by what you want I'll redo it don't worry it's no biggie! I'd rather you say something and I PROMISE i will re-do it! ♥️🫵

Master list's

MDNI

Satoru Gojo:

You and Satoru were out shopping for lingerie (he made you), but he wanted to help his girl feel pretty in his defence. You both walk into the store and look around and see a very nice set. Baby blue. You can already tell he's rock hard. "Should I try these on baby?" You ask teasingly. "Yeah." He bluntly says. He wants to drag you into that changing room and fuck the shit out of you while you wear that- until you and him are soaked with sweat cum and tears. But the door is a curtain and there's a worker right beside it. So you really can't get frisky. He groans when you tell him no but you try it on and walk out to show him, since it was just girls out there. He made sure no men were there.

You honestly just gave him a bigger boner and a raging emotion he's never felt. Neediness, wanting, horny... He wants you so bad. You're so getting it when you get home just make sure you have your soul after that. He wants to fuck that out too.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Megumi Fushiguro

You were sitting beside him listening to Gojo yap to the classroom about reverse technique and blabbering about how awesome and hot he is, which was slightly annoying but everyone learned to tune him out. "He's an idiot." Megumi mumbled like the grump he is. He was mindlessly rubbing your thigh gently under the table. But you were ovulating and this was just getting you fucking wet. And he was hotter than usual, I mean he was always hot- yeah he is. Your mind was squirming with thoughts and you were soaked at this point. He noticed that your face was flushed and he did a small grin. "What's wrong baby." He mumbles into your ear. You take a sharp inhale of breath and he moves his hand higher playing with your panties feeling the wet spot. He randomly pulls hand away and whispers.

"Princess, you're gonna have to wait."

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Nanami Kento

Nanami has the prettiest little secretary. You. He loves those short skirts and tight dress shirts that drive him crazy. When you sit in the corner of the room in his office with that lollipop in your mouth sucking it, he just wishes that it's his cock in your mouth. He swears you do it on purpose sometimes! It drives him absolutely wild. Short tight outfits, sucking and smirking, ain't even the worst thing. It's the fact that you have stripped in his office to change from your clothes to your work outfit. He's never seen you change but he finds the evidence. Your wet pretty pink lacy panties with a bow in the front and a matching bra and he jerks off to your underwear and stuffs the bra in his mouth so he's not loud. He really wishes he was sucking the thing the bra was holding (your tits) not the bra. He thinks he might go mad.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Toji Fushiguro

You recently got a book. It had a gun scene, where she got gun fucked by her man, and fuck Toji has a gun. And that's for some reason a turn on for you. Your ovulation time makes you extra horny. And just seeing Toji makes you aroused. He is one fine man and god you can stare at him for hours. He comes home holding his gun from his last shoot out and his muscles compressed in that tight shirt of his. God damn. You looked him up and down imagining his gun rubbing your clit rubbing up down your slit going inside, teasing you with it. He sees you checking him out, wanting something. He knows.

He waves his gun in the air.

"You want somethin' doll?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Choso Kamo

The air in the crowded space felt stifling, but it had nothing to do with the people around you and everything to do with him. Choso stood close—too close—his body angled just enough that only you could feel the heat radiating off him. His fingers barely skimmed the small of your back, an innocent touch to anyone watching, but the way his knuckles brushed against your skin sent a sharp thrill through you. He didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned in, his lips hovering just beside your ear, his voice low and deliberate.

“You keep pressing into me like that,” he murmured, “Are you testing me… or do you want me to break?” His breath was warm, teasing, as his fingertips traced the faintest pattern against your side before retreating—just enough to make you crave the contact again. The weight of his gaze dragged over your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes, dark and unreadable, but the tension between you was undeniable. It was a game now—one neither of you seemed willing to lose.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Suguru Geto

You've been walking around in a bra, all day...

Suguru's fingertips brushed against your jaw, barely there, yet enough to set your skin ablaze. His smirk was lazy, almost amused, but the sharp glint in his eyes told a different story—one of restraint, of something simmering just beneath the surface. "You're making this difficult," he murmured, his voice smooth, dark, laced with amusement and something more dangerous. His breath fanned against your lips, the space between you shrinking with every passing second. "Tell me," he mused, tilting his head ever so slightly, "are you going to keep teasing me, or do you want me to ruin you?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Toge Inumaki

One thing for Toge is that he can't talk normally without hurting himself because of his cursed technique. So he uses physical touch. He'll pinch your sides, snuggle you, tickle you, stuff like that.

Right now he's gently kissing your face on his dorm bed running his hands up and down you. You both never went past making out. But the tension between you two is so strong. He decides to use his cursed technique.

"Undress."

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Yuji Itadori

Yuji was playing with Megumi's demon dogs scratching their bellies. You couldn't help but notice how long his fingers are and how nice they curl. You gulp and look away but being the observant man he is, he looked back and noticed your flushed face. "Y/N what's the matter?" He said in a curious but overall cheerful tone.

He notices you zoned out and staring at his fingers before you blink back to reality. "Oh nothing, nothing." He grinned and wiggled is fingers.

"Oh?"

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Comment if you want a longer version of these!

[bluecollarmcandtf]

M O O N L I G H T ™

Chapter II

On my last sweep of the house, I check each pledge before the party. Moonlight™ is now partnered with Greek life on campus, and it's the perfect tool for hazing. As president, the app recognizes me as their manager, so I alone get to boss the mind controlled idiots around!

"Pledge!" I snap.

"Yes, brother, sir!" he barks back, yelling it loud and clear without any reservations.

I forget what his name is; Jason, maybe? As long as he's being puppetted around by the Moonlight™ app, it doesn't matter. He'll answer to anything I call him with a rigid smile and a purple stare. He might technically be asleep, but honestly I prefer underclassmen this way. They're much less annoying.

"Scrub these toilets good!" I sneer enjoying the way he hangs on my every word, "You're the janitor for Delt-Ep-Phi's party tonight! I don't want to see any shit or puke unless you're mopping it up! Got it?"

"Yes, brother, sir!"

Just like that, my obedient janitor agrees to my orders and resumes mopping like his life depends on it. At the very least, Moonlight™ has made these pledges more effective. It would have been impossible to force menial work on a freshman without getting a half-assed result. Too many of the guys at this school are rich kids from prep schools: the kind that would be mortified to be near a mop, let alone clad in some sticky maintenance uniform. I bet Jacob, or whatever the fuck his name is, would be mortified to find out that this thing hasn't been washed in years. We just keep throwing it in the closet for the next pledge we have moonlight as janitor. The only thing that makes the dank BO of the garb bearable is the accompanying scent of cleaning chemicals.

I ignore the smell and give the guy a slap on the neck, leaving him to mop the bathroom in silence. My next stop is the kitchen, where I check on my younger cousin Tristan. Tonight, he's just the dishwasher.

"Sup, dude," I say, "Grab me a beer."

"Yes, brother, sir!" he yells back like an army cadet, obediently fetching a bottle from the fridge and opening it for me.

"How's dish-duty?"

"It's amazing! I love being the dishwasher, brother, sir!" my cousin beams.

It's weird to see him like this; with glowing eyes and forced grin. The Tristan I know is charming and unbothered, normally gliding through conversation with subtle looks and gestures. He's normally got this cool style that wins over girls and intimidates guys, so it doesn't help that he's all dressed up in the frat's old dish-boy uniform. I really hate that an upperclassman wrote on his forehead. That'll make classes next week a bit awkward. I suppose it's just a normal part of hazing, and I'm not going to make an exception just because he's my family.

"You gonna be a good dishwasher for the party tonight?" I probe, taking a sip of beer.

"Yes, brother, sir!" he declares, "I'll be ready at the sink for anything that needs cleaned, and I'll be ready to refill any of my brother's drinks."

"That's right, and remember only brothers can get a refill. Girls have to ask one of us to get it from you," I make sure to clarify. It makes it a lot easier to pick up girls when they have to approach us for their next drink. If only I could use Moonlight™ on them to put them to work as the frat's strippers or something. That'd really be getting the most out of the app!

Heavy bass blares from the other room: the party's getting started. I've already spent too much time with Tristan, so I say bye to my cousin and head on out to the main area.

Standing by the door is our coat rack: his name's Kyle, and he's much better as furniture.

"Your arms tired yet, Kyle?" I sneer.

"No, brother, sir!" he grins back.

I laugh a bit when I notice someone wrote a 'kick me' message, pointing at his crotch. A guy like Kyle could definitely use a good kick in the nuts. The freshman came to our call-out with an insanely high opinion of himself. He seemed to think he had every right to get in because he was a legacy. Apparently, his dad is rich alumni so we couldn't refuse him, but that didn't make him immune to our new hazing ritual via Moonlight™. He definitely got the worst job in the house. He might not be scrubbing toilets or cleaning dishes, but his arms are sure to be sore as fuck by morning; not to mention all the kicks in the groin he's guaranteed to get!

"Are you gonna hold those coats, pledge?" I snarl in his face, getting only a cold smile in return.

"Yes, brother, sir!"

"And why is that?" I spit menacingly.

"Because I'm a coat rack, brother, sir!"

"That's right, and coat racks don't react when they get a kick in the balls, right?"

"No, brother, sir!"

With a chuckle, I swing my foot into his crotch. Kyle jerks, but his lips remain stretched across his face in a toothy grin. His body can't help but flinch at the sudden pain, but it only takes a second for Moonlight™ to reassert control. Barely a few seconds have passed and he's back, stiffly holding his arms out, sweating from the effort of being completely still.

"Thank you, brother, sir!" he manages to say. I guess one of the upperclassmen told Kyle to thank anyone who gives him a kick. That'll be a fun little party trick!

I give the guy a little slap on the face before I leave. Tonight's party is gonna be off the hook! I've still got some time before it starts, maybe I can catch a minute to relax in my room. It's not that late yet, but I'm starting to feel the effects of a long day. I'd love to just lay down, even just for a second.

Unfortunately, I fall asleep...

The next day, I wake up when my phone dings with a notification from the frat group chat...

"What the fuck!" I jump out of bed, "What is this picture?"

Though I don't want it to be true, the picture appears to be me. I'm dressed up like some stupid waiter, with the same cringe smile and glowing eyes as any the other Moonlight™ employee, but that can't be right. We only use the app on pledges! There's no way in hell any of my brothers would sign me up like this!

I rack my brain for any memory of last night's party, trying to recall any clue that'll tell me this picture is a lie. The endeavor only hurts my head, but I do notice that I feel unusually sweaty for having just gotten an entire night's rest. My arm feels sore, and my pajamas feel awkward like I was drunk pulling them on.

"Dude, you were a great manservant last night!" one text reads.

"Totally think you should quit that finance degree and be a full-time butler!"

"I could get used to you fetching us drinks and giving us foot rubs!" another adds, "We should have done this years ago!"

I stare at the texts in horror and step into my bathroom. Sure enough, I see the word 'buttler' written across my forehead in sharpie. Someone must have thought it was hilarious to draw a stupid goatee on my face as well. My eye twitches as I stare at my reflection, rage boiling up inside of me.

"Why the fuck did you do that to me!" I text back, "I'm the fucking president!" Even through the phone, my words drip with malice.

"Don't dish out what you can't take!" one replies simply, "Just a prank, bro!"

I try to slow my breaths, but my fists are clenched painfully tight. I'm gonna beat whoever's idea this was! It's one thing for us to use Moonlight™ on freshmen, but I'm a senior and I refuse to spend my last year in this frat moonlighting as a butler! I'm supposed to be getting drunk and laid at these parties! Not marching around with a bowtie and silver tray, serving drinks and whatever the fuck else!

"I wouldn't get yourself too worked up, dude," a guy texts, "You might be in control now that your awake, but remember you're at our whim the second you fall asleep. I could have you scrubbing the floor with your toothbrush tonight if you don't behave yourself. Lol."

The message makes me see red, but he's right. An overwhelming sense of helplessness falls over me. I could beat those fuckers up now, but what would that make them do later? They already wrote on my face with permanent ink! What if they made me shave my head or get a tattoo! Fuck!

This can't be legal, but honestly, I have no idea what the contract stated when we signed up for the app! How do I even go about cancelling this Moonlight™ job? The tech is so convoluted and hard to use!

In the meantime, I'll be lucky if all they make me do is serve them their drinks and do their chores. I guess I can live with that for a short while.

With a grimace of resignation, I text back, "Good one, guys."

[kookiestiddies]

2 | two for two

series m.list

what's the worst that could happen at a party?

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: swearing, kissing, drinking, attempted humour

A/N: thank you so much for reading! updates will come...when they come ;-; if you are curious to know, I listened to this song while writing this fic. This really helped me figure out jk and oc's dynamic sort of. Also, i do not own these photos, I got them off of pinterest lol👍🏼happy reading this silly chapter weeee

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

The Jeon twins made for an odd pair. 

While they lived up to their title in terms of mannerisms and speech patterns, physically, they were as different as can be. 

If it weren’t for the inky patterns that lined their arms and possibly other parts of their body, their matching set of doe eyes, and the sudden dips in each cheek that always appeared after the sight of a familiar face or a well-told joke, you could never have guessed that they were once womb-mates.

While Chaeyoung thrived in bright shades of pink and white, Jungkook opted for the brooding presence of blacks and anything else no brighter than navy blues. Where she was all softness and curves, he was a sketch-up of hard lines. On the days when Chaeyoung wore butterfly clips in her hair that complimented her flowy dress and Mary Jane heels, Jungkook styled his mullet, wore more silver jewellery than you could count, and stalked about in black stompers.

Just a few months into your new company of friends, you were quick to learn that the whole lot of them were party animals, almost always on the lookout for nights of alcohol-induced shenanigans, and shameless whoring, twerking, strutting and queefing around as Jimin had so eloquently put, while you were decidedly not.

“You’ll come won’t you,” Chae asked you as she grasped your upper arm and looked at you with puppy eyes. 

“I won’t,” you answered with a sickeningly sweet smile. 

It was on a Friday afternoon when you had been in the middle of your solo biweekly revision session that Chae’s familiar cotton candy head had popped over the sea of silence that engulfed the library. Students glanced at her with annoyance as she noisily clacked her heels over the floor to where you were seated in a single booth towards the back corner. You were also quick to notice the quiet thud of a pair of stompers that followed her suit. 

“Told you she wouldn’t be into it,” Jungkook said dismissively with a blank expression and lazily leaned against the side of your booth. “Oh c’mon, you can’t abandon me like this!” Chae whined and tightened her grip on your arm. It was starting to hurt honestly. 

The girl sitting in the booth across from you sent an angry “Shh!” in your trio’s direction. 

You lowered your head in embarrassment and gestured to the twins to quiet down. “Babe, what do you mean, abandon you? I love you and everything and I truly appreciate our friendship and all, but we really haven’t known each other long enough for this to be that deep,” you said with a look on your face that said you were joking. Jungkook snorted loudly at that.

Another “SHH!” landed on you again. Bitch.

“Y/n! I can’t handle another night of taking care of Jimin and Nayeon’s horny asses. Do you have any idea what the bullshit those idiots put me through?!” Chae cried. Her grip on your arm tightened even more. 

Jesus fuck, does she work out?!?

“C’mon Chae, I told you she wouldn’t be into it. You said you’d prove me wrong. You didn’t. You owe me ice cream now. Let’s go,” Jungkook said monotonously and stood up as you hopelessly pried Chae’s hands away from your arm. 

“Chae, please let go, you’re killing me here,” you whisper-scream, admittedly scared of the chick in front of you.

Luckily, the shrill ringtone of Chae’s phone suddenly cuts through the air and leads her a short way away from your booth to answer the call, gorilla grip talons and all. Both Jungkook and you noticed the irritated look on the girl across and shared an awkward-embarrassed look with each other.

“What? Did you guys bet on me going to the party or something?” you redirected, looking between the twins. He shrugged. “Am I only worth some ice cream?” you joked mindlessly. 

“If you must know, it’s really cheap, grocery store ice cream…” Jungkook said quietly, but not quiet enough to escape your earshot as you massaged your arm (which will probably bruise tomorrow).

Asshole. 

“Oh? Is that so? Everyone knows that cheap, grocery store ice cream tastes miles better though, compared to whatever premium coco-mocha-pumpkin-spiced-latte-ariana-grande ice cream I’m sure the likes of you enjoy,” you banter. 

At this, he stares at you, glides his eyes up and down your figure, and smirks. 

“I mean… I didn’t even say that that’s my taste.”

“What is your taste then?”

“Cheap, grocery store ice cream,” he says with a shy smile.

Is he flirting with you?

Jesus christ, that was a weird exchange, why in the world would your heart be thumping over that? (Because it was.)

Yes, the textbook incident did leave you upset with him for a long while. But your parents taught you that bygones should be bygones. 

After all, he did get down on his knees for you. 

The memory of Jungkook crouching before you haunted you for an embarrassingly long time after, especially given that all your friends witnessed it and never failed to tease the two of you about it, except for Taehyung who still curses the heavens to this day for punishing him with boring TA sessions on that day when he could have been there in person to see it. 

You had claimed to have forgiven him then and there itself, not because you actually meant it, because it would take much more than that to get over how trashy Jungkook’s 50 dollars had made you feel, but just to get over the attention he was bringing to the two of you in the crowded cafeteria. 

No, Jungkook getting down on his knees wasn’t enough. But you didn’t have to say that for him to know, because he saw right through you.

After two weeks of being forced to hang out thanks to your shared friend group and an infinite amount of awkwardly skirting around each other, Jungkook one day approached you alone in the library lugging a bag in his hand. When you looked up at him, he shifted his eyes away to the muddy textbook that lay open on the table and cleared his throat. 

“Here,” he’d said and thrust the bag that weighed a tonne towards you. You wordlessly took it and gave him a curious look. In that moment, he’d reminded you of a child in kindergarten being forced to apologise to the classmate he’s made fun of, looking sheepish and awkward.

In the bag were brand new textbooks. Hardcovers at that. Sitting on top of them was a large pack of your favourite corn chips that you always had on you to munch on. You were surprised to say the least. Not only did you not expect him to be thoughtful enough to replace your textbooks, but you didn’t pin him to be observant enough to know your favourite snack.

“Sorry again…about your books,” he mumbled out while rubbing the back of his neck. You were quiet for a moment, Jungkook’s actions once again leaving you too stunned to speak. 

“Apology accepted,” you quietly replied. And with that, the textbook incident was a chapter closed.

Ever since then, Jungkook and you had to find your footing around each other in your friend group, now on more amicable terms. For Jungkook, it meant getting comfortable around you, which you learnt meant that he would find ways to tease you and somehow always managed to find a way to get under your skin and rattle you. For you, it meant constantly getting annoyed at him and letting him know of that.

It was deeply unsettling how he constantly one-upped you with his comments. You figured you’d rather not engage with him at all in any way or form.

You let out a huff at him and say, “Whatever. This is a really dumb conversation. Hope you enjoy your ice cream, whichever one it is that you end up getting,” before turning back to your work so that he can’t see your cheeks that were beginning to feel hot.

Jungkook was still looking at you, with what you suspected was hesitance.

You look back and raise a questioning brow at him. 

Just as he opens his mouth, Chae saunters back over and unknowingly interrupts him. “Hobi’s here,” she announces while looking around the library. All the focus you had on Jungkook is abandoned immediately as you whip your head around to look for the sight of a familiar sunny grin.

It doesn’t take long for you to find it as its owner walks over to your group with a bickering Jimin and Taehyung in tow. Taehyung’s hands are flailing everywhere and he’s bouncing around with Jimin looking at him in ridicule while trying to get him to calm down.

“What are these idiots fighting about now,” Chae mutters under her breath.

“They're not just friends, okay? They’re soulmates. Hollywood soulmates. There’s a difference," you hear Taehyung say passionately as the trio came within earshot, making Jimin burst out a screech while Hoseok chuckled. You sneak a glance at the girl across and you’re pretty sure you catch her shaking in anger or something. "Soulmates? Come on. They’ve known each other since, what, middle school? That’s just a lifelong bromance," Jimin retorts.

“Hey guys,” Hoseok threw at the twins and you. You were the only one who bothered to reply with one yourself. Chae was too invested in Taehyung and Jimin’s conversation to respond while Jungkook seemed to be in a mood all of a sudden, his eyes fixated on the way Hoseok walked over and leaned against the table facing you. 

“What are they arguing about?” you ask Hoseok. Before he could answer, Jimin voices it out himself exasperatedly. 

"A bromance doesn’t survive Oscars, Batman vs. Bourne debates, and that time Ben got way too into Dunkin’ coffee. That’s a bond,"

“But what does that have to do with why JLo and he aren’t good together???” 

“It has to do with everything!”

“EXCUSE ME, BUT CAN YOU PLEASE EITHER KEEP IT DOWN OR LEAVE THE LIBRARY?!” the girl from earlier finally explodes at your seemingly ever-growing gathering.

“Jesus fuck, yes, yes! We’re leaving,” you bellow out, annoyed and terrified, and start packing up your things.

“We’re leaving?” Chae asks, finally tuning in back to you.

“We are?” Taehyung asks.

“But we just got here,” Jimin adds pitifully. 

It’s your turn to be exasperated as you say “Shut up, please, all of you. We’re getting out of here and going somewhere less quiet so that we don’t seem too much like animals.” You finish packing up and head towards the exit, throwing a measly ‘sorry’ to the girl ahead of you without waiting for a response. The rest of the group moves over similarly like a school of fish.

While Jimin and Taehyung carry on their argument, this time with Jungkook joining in (his contribution being the Dunkin’ lore), Hoseok catches up to you and Chae. 

“Are you sure you’re not gonna change your mind about coming to the party?” Chae tries again.

Hoseok cuts in before you could answer, “What, you mean the one happening tomorrow night?” She nods in confirmation. “She doesn’t want to go but I want her to,” Chae whines. 

“This is gonna hurt Chae, but frankly speaking, I don’t care what you want,” you say curtly, making her huff and setting Hoseok off with laughter. 

“Shut the fuck up, that wasn’t even that funny!” Chae whines at Hoseok. “No, but it’s what your entitled ass deserves,” he throws at her, causing her to fume.

“Who are you calling entitled?!? Jungkook, did you hear what they’re saying about me?” she screeches at her brother. Said brother turns to her and says, “I did and I agree, you are entitled and I also don’t care about what you want.” Now the whole group is laughing along. 

“That’s it, I’m calling Nayeon, you know… a real friend,” Chae huffs and gets distracted by her phone. Hoseok takes this as an opportunity to lean over and put his arm around you. 

“I know we’re joking and all, but I’d really like it if you’d change your mind about the party,” he says softly. 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not really my thing, ya’know? Besides, I have Mr Byrnes class to study for. He keeps talking about a test that isn’t even in the study plan and it’s making me paranoid that he’s going to surprise us with a pop quiz one of these days,” you ramble as he listens attentively. 

“C’mon, it’s just one night. Just have some fun. And I promise that I’ll watch out for you, okay? Make sure things don’t get out of hand or let anyone force you to do anything crazy,” he says.

“What do you say?” he asks, eyes hopeful and smiling as wide and bright as ever.

Of course, you said yes. 

How could you refuse when he had asked so nicely?

So here you were, walking up to a large house set in the corner of an upper-class residential area that had college students pouring in and out of every entrance possible with Chae, Nayeon and Jimin. You honestly had no idea whose house this was, or who even organised this party. An act of stupidity on your part you realised, because now you had no choice but to lean on your friends for safety. 

Oh well, Hoseok did promise to watch out for you, you thought as you secretly smiled to yourself.

Not secretive enough it seems as Chae tells you, “With that look on your face, I hope you’re actually excited to go to this party for the sake of having fun.”

You reply with a simple “Sure,” as your group turns into the neat little pathway leading up to the front door.

“Whether Y/n’s excited or not, I sure as hell am. God, I can’t wait to get fucked up tonight. It’s been too long,” Nayeon chirps next to you, much to Chae's chagrin.

“I’m begging you two,” Chase addresses both Nayeon and Jimin as she says, “don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning. I’m sick of babysitting you two,” with a scoff. The perpetrators merely giggle at her as they spread out separately into the dancing crowd in the living room-turned-dancefloor.

“C’mon, let’s go out to the backyard. It’s way too early to be partying this hard,” Chase says and leads you by your hand. 

As soon as you step foot out of the house, you’re relieved to be able to breathe without the entailing smell of sweat and alcohol in the air. Towards the corner of the porch, leaning against the railing with red solo cups at hand are Jungkook and Taehyung talking with two other guys you don’t recognise. 

They’re both tall and attractive, you’re quick to notice. While one is more built all-around, the other has wide shoulders leading to a tapered waist.

“Hey guys!” Chase chirps at them. “Meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Namjoon and this is Jin,” she gestures to the built one and the one with wide shoulders in order. You greet them pleasantly before stepping aside to stand next to Taehyung while Chae rants to them about Nayeon and Jimin.

Suddenly, you feel a poke of a finger in your side. “Y/n….you’re at a college party without a drink. Tch, tch, tch,” Taehyung chastises you as he leans over. You can already smell the faint lingering of alcohol on his breath. “Sorry, I’m just really not looking to get shitfaced tonight,” you weakly say. 

“Shut up, one drink never hurt anyone!” he retorts with a laugh. “I’ll be right back,” he says and before you could refuse, he’s already headed towards the kitchen indoors, presumably to get you a drink. 

In his absence, you notice Jungkook quietly nursing his own drink next to you. You shift your attention away from him and start looking around the backyard. 

Your eyes are searching, here, there and everywhere looking for a specific face. Where’s Hoseok? You want to text him, asking him if he’s here already, but you’ve never really texted him before. Would it be too obvious if you were to start now? In your train of overthinking, you fail to notice that the boy next to you has shifted to face you. He’s studying you, your actions, but you fail to notice. 

“Missing your loverboy?” the voice from next to you breaks you out of your reverie.

You look at Jungkook and dumbly say, “Huh?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, and you curse the heavens for making him as handsome as he looks when he does so. “I asked if you’re looking for Hoseok hyung,” he says. 

“Maybe.”

“Hmm, figured as much,” he shrugs. At this, you raise a curious brow at him.

“Uhm, duh, you look like you lost your puppy or something. Huhu, where’s my boyfie, huhu,” he mimics you in a high-pitched voice. 

You look at him in disgust before saying, “Ugh, I have never and will never use the word boyfie.” It’s a weak attempt at a comeback, you already know. “Aha, but you don’t deny that you’re looking for Hoseok hyung!” he says with a grin. 

You let out a scoff at that and say, “Okay, so what? What’s it to do with you? Ever heard of minding your own business?” Your tone is harsh, but you couldn’t help the shy smile that crawled on your face.

He looks like he has more to say, probably to tease you, but is cut off by Taehyung crying out “Children! Children! Please settle down, the party’s only just started. I can’t handle y'all bickering so soon.” You roll your eyes at Jungkook and turn away from him, making you miss out on the boyish grin he sends your way before he turns away himself to tune into Chae’s conversation with Namjoon and Jin. 

Taehyung waltzes up to you and flourishes a red solo cup to you with a proud look on his face. “Ta-da! A drink for Her Highness,” he dramatically says with an even more dramatic bow. 

You giggle as you accept the drink. “Thank you, good sir,” you play along. Taehyung lets out a pleasant sigh and leans forward against the railing. His sudden silence hints to you that he might have something on his mind.

You don’t bother asking yet though, comfortable with the lack of conversation between you, and instead listening to Namjoon and Jin telling Chae about their disastrous search for a roommate. Jungkook isn’t in sight anymore so you assume he’s gone back into the house.

“You guys don’t understand the number of crazy people we’ve met so far. We interviewed this one kid, a comp-sci student, who asked if we’d be okay if he were to use our storage room to keep all his blow-up “life-sized sleep dolls”. Like, what the fuck does that even mean?” Namjoon says exasperatedly. Jin shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink before saying, “I don’t think any of us here want to know what that means,” making the whole group laugh. 

“Maybe you guys should consider having him around. I want to start a wager that he has a doll of Danny Devito,” you giggle. Jin nearly chokes on his drink at that.

Namjoon is thoroughly entertained and says “You’re right! And when Christmas rolls around, we won’t have to get a damn Christmas tree. We can just spice up Danny.”

“A Danny Devito Christmas Tree?” Chae asks with a grin.

“A Danny DeviTree.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jin says.

You all nod our heads in a silly agreement.

“TO DANNY DEVITREE!” we cheer together and take large gulps of our drinks.

“Hey, didn’t you say you wanted to find a different place to live? Somewhere closer to campus right?” Chae asks you with a nudge of her elbow.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that,” you reply. You turn to Namjoon and Jin to explain “The place I’m at now is too far away from campus, so I’m thinking about moving somewhere closer so that I don’t have to stress too much about the distance before leaving for classes.”

“Well hey, our place is less than a block from campus. If you’re interested, we can talk another day,” Jin says excitedly. “But the DeviTree arrangement will have to wait, it seems,” Namjoon adds with a grin. Your eyes widen with excitement and you agree to meet another day to discuss it.

While you’re busy exchanging numbers with Namjoon, Chae suddenly notices Taehyung’s silence and asks him “What’s got you thinking so deeply? Looking so serious doesn’t suit you” she says poking her tongue out teasingly at him. 

This brings Taehyung to stand straight and point at your chest area. “It’s weird you know,” he says. 

Your tit?

“My tit?” you ask aloud.

“Huh?” he asks back and realises what he’s pointing at. “What the - no! You idiot, not your tit. Your tit is fine. I meant you in general.” 

You and the others can’t control your giggles as you prod him even more, “What’s so weird about me?”

“It’s weird how you can’t seem to get along with Jungkook. He’s literally the nicest out of all of us. And you’re nice too.”

This catches you off guard as the laughter suddenly lulls down.

“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s always getting on my nerves on purpose. He’s such an idiot,” you say along with a quick apology towards Chae. She smiles strangely at you while Namjoon and Jin watch the conversation play out in silence.

“See that’s the thing, he’s never trying to get on your nerves on purpose. You just seem to always get annoyed by him all on your own,” Taehyung refutes.

“He’s right. Not to sound like I’m trying to stand up for my brother too much, but it is weird how much you can’t stand him. He doesn’t hate you the way you hate him,” Chae says the last part with a strange tone in her voice. “But it’s like you don’t even want to give him a chance to be closer with you.”

You suddenly feel cornered by the duo. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we’re just wired into different frequencies or something. Somehow, everything he does annoys me so much. God help me if I knew why,” you try to brush it off and take a large gulp of your drink. 

Are you getting a bit tipsy right now? Probably. Eh, whatever - you think as you chug the rest of the drink.

Of course in your heart, you feel struck by the accusation. Is it true? Have you been too harsh with Jungkook?

This time, you knew Chae and Taehyung weren’t referring to the textbook incident. Nope, they were talking about your overall behaviour after that. You were always harsh and short-tempered around him, sometimes, oftentimes even, mean. 

You were never usually mean, so much so that you could recognise when you were being so, especially with Jungkook. But could you blame yourself? He was practically asking for it.

“Maybe, it’s because you like-like him,” Taehyung says, making you choke on your drink. 

Namjoon and Jin are chuckling into their cups when he says that while he stands there calmly with Chae waiting for you to finish your coughing fit.

“What the FUCK! Like-like him??” you let out an emotionless laugh and say “what are we, five? Like-like him, pfft! As if.”

You’re desperate for this conversation to end now. 

“Why? It’s not that ridiculous. It would be kind of nice if my baby brother and my best friend were to date,” Chae says with a smile and a shrug. “Besides, you know what they say - there’s a thin line between love and hate…”

Sometimes, the differences between the Jeon twins shone starkly like day and night. Jungkook who loved to spend his evenings cruising around town on his motorcycle; Chae who turned down getting her own car that their parents wanted to give her because of how traumatised she was from her experience at driver’s ed (nothing serious, it was just bad vibes with an instructor who fell asleep in the passenger seat while she was behind the wheel). Jungkook who always had a glint in his eye, craving for an adrenaline filled adventure like rock climbing or hiking. More extreme, skydiving and cliff jumping during summer breaks. And Chae, who enjoyed completely and entirely, simple hangouts with friends at a cafe or a club, and especially at home. 

As different as they were, the Jeon twins were as inseparable as former womb mates ever could be.

Like that one time Chae and you had a sleepover at their place for a Barbie animated movie marathon before your group was set to go watch the new Barbie live-action movie in cinemas. Even though he had all the means to simply lock himself up in his room to save himself from the cheesy squeals and giggles he was promised to hear from the two of you for the rest of the night, Jungkook not only joined you two for the whole run, enthusiastically reacting along to the characters and funny lines, he even went out of the way to make the three of you hot cocoa drinks with marshmallows and volunteered to go out and buy more snacks once they had run out. 

A memory that still makes you chuckle is how the entire group showed up to the movie dressed in theme to the nines (Jimin and Taehyung as the Diamond Castle dogs of course). And yes, Jungkook too. While Chae unsurprisingly dressed up as Bibble, Jungkook retired his punk jewellery to dress up as Aidan from The Magic of Pegasus.

Chae was none the wiser, fiercely caring for her brother. The memory of Jungkook and Taehyung once getting locked in a frat party closet once and noone being able to find them bcs their phones were with Nayeon, and the party was too loud to hear them shouting to be let out. Chae was worried sick around the 5 hour mark, contemplating calling the police and ranting and generally being out of sorts. Thank god Jimin needed to throw up and rushed to the nearest closet and forced it open. The gratification on the boys’ face at being freed didn’t last long before Jimin got puke all over them.

Nonetheless, Chae was utterly relieved to see her brother alive and well, rushing to hug him regardless of the gunk covering his shirt.

For as darling as you found Chae and as insufferable as you found Jungkook, you sure did hang out with the two a lot; the most out of everyone in the group. It didn’t go unnoticed how he was a whopping 5 '8 and was incredibly self-sufficient, perfectly able to say no to his sister's invitations if he wanted to. 

The thing was, Chae brought him along everywhere, and he followed along anyway.

These are a few of the memories that you’ve collected since getting to know Chae, and by default Jungkook too. The Jeon twins truly made for an odd pair, but they were made for each other like peanut butter and jelly. 

You’re reflecting on these memories in your tipsy haze as you’re almost touched for a moment that Chae just called you her best friend, given that you’ve only known each other for a little over half a year now.

Almost.

“Hah! No offence Chae, but there is no way I could ever like, or love, your brother.”

Of course, the universe is not on your side today (has it ever been?), because it’s at that exact moment that the man you’d been on the lookout for the whole night strides onto the patio towards you little group. 

“Oh shit, Y/n loves Jungkook? Then, I’m out of here,” Hoseok says with a teasing lilt in his voice and the insinuation of what he says makes your hearts beat faster. 

“NO! I said I don’t like him. Or love him. C’mon Hoseok, I want to dance. It’s getting stale out here,” you say as you giggle and drag him by his hand into the house through the swarm of bodies. 

You’re well able to notice your friends’ teasing comments following you into the house, but not the pair of doe eyes that were fixated on you from the inner entrance to the porch area as you pass them.

Currently, you were bouncing along with Hoseok in the room full of bodies, barely able to decipher anything other than the music booming through the space. Oh, and his hands are on your hips.

Fuck, you think to yourself. That boy has got you wrapped around his pretty little finger, literally, and he doesn’t even know it.

Or maybe he does? You don’t know. You don’t know anything right now. You’re so out of it. 

The full weight of the drink Taehyung had given earlier had finally hit you 20 minutes ago, and ever since then, you’ve been daringly thrusting your hips and grinding against Hoseok in tune to the beat of the songs playing. You’re not sure if he’s drunk himself since you didn’t see him ingest anything since you met up with him on the porch, but the way he’s grinding back onto you, gripping your hips possessively and whispering sweet nothings into your ear suggest that he might be. 

“Y/n…” he breathes out. “You look so cute tonight. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I wanted to. I thought about it, but didn’t say it.”

You let out a giggle and say “That’s okay. Thanks. You look really good tonight too.”

A minute passes of you two continuing to dance when he suddenly stops and motions you to do the same. “Can I- Can I ask you something?” he starts. The suddenness of his actions sobers you a little and you merely nod at him. “What is it?”

He seems hesitant to continue and it looks like it’s really eating him up. “What is it? You can ask me anything,” you encourage him.

“Okay, uhm, well, is there- fuck, okay,” he says before clearing his throat and looking at you pointedly. 

“Is there anything going on between you and Jungkook?” he asks.

“What the hell, no!” you’re quick to refute.

His eyes widened at your response. “No? Are you sure? Are you 100% positive on that?” 

You can’t help but let out a chuckle at that.

This is so ridiculous. 

“No, Hoseok, there’s nothing going on between me and that brat Jeon Jungkook. Okay? The others were just joking around. There’s nothing happening between us. Is that what you wanted to know?” 

He visibly brightens up and says “Well yeah, because I wanted to know if what I’m about to do next would land me a punch on the face or not,” with a laugh. He comes closer to you and wraps his arms around your waist with a grin forming on his face.

“What are you going to do?” you ask, your breath getting shallower. Your heart is pounding so fast you hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says.

And when he leans down and brings his lips to yours in a searing kiss, you’re unable to think of anything else anymore. Fuck Jungkook. Fuck everything.

All you think about is him.

Hoseok.

Hoseok.

Hoseok.

He’s such a great kisser, lips so soft and careful yet bold. While your tongues are having a passionate battle for dominance, with you losing quickly, he brings his arms to wrap tightly around your body. “Y/n…” he moans in between and you swear you’ve never heard a sound more sweeter. You’re moaning too as you bring your hands up to run through his hair and down the back of his neck.

The pair of you part after what feels like both forever and finite. “Fuck, you’re something else,” he says breathlessly. You chuckle at that, out of breath yourself. 

You take a moment to just stare at his face and your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest. He’s taking the time to look back at you too. You see his eyes dart around your face - to your eyes, nose, hair tucked behind your ear, your lips. 

His face is lit up by the glare of the colourful lights decorating the ceiling and something else that is purely him.

Hoseok.

Sober-you would never find the balls to admit your feelings to him, but drunk-you could. 

“Hoseok…”

“Yes?”

“I-I like you.”

.

.

.

“I like you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. How could I not?” he says with a chuckle before he closes the gaps between your lips again.

Just as you think you’re about to write a blurb on the bliss of Hoseok’s soft lips, a voice clears causing the two of you to break away. Jungkook appears by your side with a furrow on his face looking as uncomfortable as ever.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” you ask, flustered and unable to mask your disappointment over his interruption. He isn’t quick to reply, opting to glance at the close proximity between Hoseok and you first. “I need you to come with me,” he replies gruffly. When you don’t move an inch he adds, “Now,”.

“Uhm, well, I’m kinda occupied at the moment so unless it’s important - HEY!” you exclaim as he grabs ahold of your hand and tries to drag you away from Hoseok. Hoseok steps in and tries to reason with Jungkook. “Hey man, you heard her, she can’t go and it’s not cool of you to drag her”

“It IS important!” Jungkook says. He’s got a strong grip on you, and even though you’re not afraid of him at that moment, for you know he’s gentler than he seems, you are annoyed by him.

You smack on his hand that’s encasing your arm and start yelling “Jungkook, you big OAF, I’m not going anywhere with YOU!” He ignores you and continues dragging you away from Hoseok. “You’re not even telling me what’s so goddamned IMPORTANT!” 

There truly are consequences to chugging down a drink that Taehyung, of all people made for you.

You are drunk. And what is it that drunk people infamously do? Stupid things. 

You are drunk and irrational and Jungkook is still dragging you away. You do the only thing that your brain can comprehend doing in that moment.

You bring your stiletto boots covered leg up and bring it down hard on Jungkook’s heavy black stompers. You know, the ones that he stood in-line for 3 hours to buy on its release day that cost a whopping $800. The ones that he carefully polishes every week so that they look shiny and new always.

Well, from where you’re standing - yep, standing, not walking..because Jungkook has stopped walking - his shoes do look as good as new.

Except for the ugly 3 inch scratch that runs down the side of the right one where your stiletto just met it.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’ve gone too far.

Is it possible to hear complete and utter silence in a room full of sweaty and drunk college kids with Gasolina blaring in the background? Because you’re experiencing it right this moment. Oh no wait, it just changed to You Broke Me First by Tate McCrae. Nice. In any other given scenario, you’d laugh at the irony of it.

But you’re not laughing now. Neither is Jungkook. You’re holding your breath and Jungkook's wide set shoulders slowly turn around to look at you. 

He peers down at his now ruined shoe before slowly dragging his eyes over your figure and meeting your eyes. His mouth, usually positioned as a lopsided grin, was now set straight and silent, his eyes hard with an illegible emotion.

It takes a couple of moments for you to snap back to your senses and you’re about to open your mouth to throw out apologies, but Jungkook beats you to it.

“Chae’s sick in the toilet. Go check up on her and let her know I’m waiting for her outside,” he says lowly and releases his grip on your hand. 

You’re wide-eyed as you open your mouth to respond, “Jungkook, I’m so-”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why is it so difficult for you to think about other people?” He cuts you off loudly. You’re rendered speechless, his words striking you unexpectedly. In all your encounters of Jungkook irritating you, leaving you to retort harshly, never once has he raised his voice or gotten angry with you. But now he was. 

Totally and utterly angry.

You see it in the way he’s actively trying, but failing, to control his tone and breathing, and the step that he takes away from you. This is new ground for your dynamic, you have no idea what to say to him other than to apologise.

“You parade around feeling so entitled about everything, why don’t you make yourself useful for once and go help Chae?

“But Jungko-”

“Save it. We’ll call it even for your textbooks. Can you just go now?”

“Wait please, I’m sor-”

“JUST GO!”

He doesn’t wait for your next response and turns to head out the door, roughly pushing off the drunk and sweaty crowd that got in his way. All that’s left is for you to stare at his retreating back as you stomach the dread rising in you.

Congratulations, Miss Kim Y/n! You have officially pissed Jeon Jungkook off!

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

[miss-cincaide]

Pretty Broken Things

Summary: Toji Fushiguro was a cruel, possessive man who didn’t like it when someone played with his toys. He was especially unhappy when someone touched his favourite toy. The last straw was when you decided to not do as told. it was just jealousy, pure and simple.. Or was it?

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Toji Fushuguro  Kinktober prompt 5: Jealousy sex:  WC: 3.7 K Warnings: Dark Content, Minors DNI!This fic contains: toxic relationship, Toji is a huge red flag & yandere, dirty talk, object play in mouth and v (weapon), hj, dub-con, yandere behaviour, dirty talk, alcohol and cursing, mystery and murder (side char) Author note: Am I ever gonna write a healthy, green flag Toji? Honestly, not sure.. But what I am sure about is that, that day is not today!  Enjoy

Toji had the emotional maturity of a pre-schooler!

The spoiled brat kind with a ton of games and toys always cried for new ones, yet once he got them, he’d play with them for a week before discarding them in the back of the closet, never to be touched again. At least until someone paid attention, or, god forbid, played with them. In that instant, Toji would have a change of heart, and those unused things he hadn’t touched in months became the very best things in existence. 

Except toys weren’t toys, but human beings and unused things were the countless women he seduced with his bad-boy persona. All those poor bitches who thought they’d be able to change Toji. To melt his jackass persona, to claw their way into his heart and nest there for life while he burned the world that wronged them. Be special to him, his ‘one and only princess’.

Fucking idiots. Including yourself. 

Still, you knew that no matter how many women he eye-fucked on the dance floor, how many women he had in his lap at the drinking booth or how many throats he shoved his tongue down, the second someone showed interest in you, you would have his full and undivided attention. You were his ‘favourite’ for a reason, after all. 

So you knew exactly what you were doing when you sat at the half-empty bar beside a suit-clad man instead of joining the other fawning girls at Toji’s booth. Before you even managed to get comfortable, the man turned to face you, flashed you a smile and leaned just a little too close for comfort. “Hey, pretty, you alone?” 

You saw his eyes trail down your cleavage, which moderately showed through the little black dress you picked for the evening. The dress was moderately modest and stopped a few inches above your knees, but it hicked up deliciously up your leg as you crossed your legs in your seat. The man’s eyes dropped instantly to your bare thigh, then back up to your face. The lewd grin on his face clearly said he appreciated your beauty. 

You, in turn, resisted the urge to slap that smirk and wiggling eyebrows right off his face. If the bastard thought he could pull off Toji’s signature move, he had another thing coming. Instead, you just gave him an awkward smile that looked a lot more like a grimace. That didn’t deter him; if anything, the man seemed to relish in your smile- the lack of an immediate rejection was taken as an invitation to continue. “Tell you what? Let me buy you a drink, and we will get to know each other a little better.” 

The hell no died on your lips the second you felt Toji’s menacing stare in your back. The scalding glare made you shudder. You knew he disapproved without turning around and seeing his frowning expression. You straightened your back a little and turned your entire body to face the stranger. Then you leaned against the bar and rested your head on your propped-up arm as you looked him up and down with a slightly more pleasant smile. “In that case, an old-fashioned, on the rocks.” 

The man whistled lowly, “A woman with character, I like that; I’m Tom, by the way” he motioned for the bartender to fix you your drink and put it on his tab, completely oblivious to the approaching threat, aka Toji, who abandoned is booth and made his way towards the bar. His baritone voice and the girl giggling on his arm enough on an announcement to draw heads, either in jealousy or frustration at his shameless loud behaviour. You heard him and the girl settle a few chairs away from you and order drinks of their own. 

You saw Toji from the corner of your eye, the unmistakable tension in his jaw and the warning stare that so obviously ordered you to quit playing about. Flipp the wus you were with and come over to him like a good girl. Be good. Be obedient. 

You turned your back more to him, avoided his stare and focused on the man in front of you. But you knew precisely what you were doing as you reached forward and accepted the drink. And then another one and a third. With each promile of alcohol, you became more and more relaxed, your smile less forced, and you even genuinely laughed at Tom’s awful jokes. 

You were entertained, far from happy, but at least you weren’t wasting away another day attention-less and pitiful, waiting for the off chance that Toji decided he was done whoring around and came back to you. 

You snorted at the thought, at your own damn foolishness, and masked by the half-quiet music of the bar and the clang of ice in your glass as you finished yet another drink. You turned expectedly back to your companion. Rather than refill your glass, he flashed you a toothy smile, then wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “How about we take this somewhere private?” 

You gaped. You also heard Toji snort into his drink. That was all the motivation you needed to agree. You let Tom help you off your barstool, then trail behind him towards the back exit of the bar. You doubted the two of you would make it very far from there. As you passed Toji, he froze you with his mere sideway glare.

“You’ve had your fun, doll” Toji growled, his dark blue eyes almost rage-black. “Behave.” 

You stepped in Toji’s direction, and his interest returned to the drink and the older woman that clung to him like a school girl. If you were pathetic for being hung up on Toji; this woman was just pitiful.

Tom glanced over his shoulder, noticed you didn’t follow him and stopped walking. An awkward look on his face, his hand in his hair as his eyes flickered from you, to the woman and then Toji. “Do you know this man?” 

You tore your eyes away from your competition to the stranger, then to Toji’s smug expression as if he expected you to settle on his other arm or replace the old hag he got bored of. Maybe, if you did it cleanly and with a good cat-fight, he’d even get you a drink as a reward. You glanced away from Toji, unable to look at that condescending look that clearly stated you weren’t going anywhere without him. You were His doll, his property through and through. 

 “No clue who that is.” 

You didn’t look at Toji, didn’t spare him a second glance, or even acknowledge the hackling woman on his arm who loudly made comments about you. Clearly, she was familiar with Toji’s favourite routine and intended to provoke you into a catfight. To secure her place beside him for a few more hours. To feel mighty that she could beat someone clearly 20 years younger than her, and to feel better about her own shitty self. 

You followed Tom outside the bar. You tried to look calm, but inside you were freaking out. What the fuck did you just do? God, you just knew Toji was going to make you regret it. Fuck, you shouldn’t have said that. You should not have said that. Maybe there was still time to go back and apologize? 

You realized you were fucked.

The stranger pulled open the flimsy metal back door. It gave away with a squeak and your numb legs carried you into the cold outside. You felt sick to your stomach; anxiety spiked to unimaginable levels. You wobbled, stumbled, caught yourself last second without making it far from the damned bar. Tom came to stand in front of you; his hand on your arm steadied you.  “Hey there, you’re looking kinda–” Pang

You didn’t have time to react before hot blood sprayed over your hair and face, some of it dropped on your clothes. Your ears rang, the sound from the gunshot behind you deafening. For a second, everything was still, and your mind could not comprehend what had happened. You just stared at Tom’s face—how the concern look morphed into shock. His mouth opened and closed, a gurgling sound was all that came out. His hand tightened on your arm, then let go, and his body collapsed backwards onto the concrete floor with a ‘duns’. 

The reality came back. Your panic was unmistakable and unmanageable anymore.“Ahh-” 

“Shut up, whore!” Toji’s authoritative tone came from behind you, inside the bar, instantly silenced you. You glanced over your shoulder through the open door. The sight of him with his gun raised will forever be embedded in your memory. You swore it was still smoking, the comic-like white smoke poofing off the nuzzle, but it couldn’t be; that’s not how guns worked… did they? 

Toji stepped towards you, and that small act snapped you out of your trance. He was gonna kill you too; you were sure of it. Your legs moved towards the exit without registering it. No, you weren’t ready to die, you weren’t— 

Slam 

Your back slammed against the wall as Toji pounced on you; his entire weight restrained you with ease. Like a rag doll, he could manoeuvre you how he wanted to with practiced ease. “Owi-” Your whine was cut off as you caught sight of the gun, fliched as he brought it to your face. You could feel its heat and weight on your lower lip, the barrow aimed at you, angled at an awkward angle up. Would he shoot you in the face too? Shoot off your face? 

You froze, too afraid to move. To stunned to make a pip. 

“What don’t you fucking understand, whore? I said Shut. It.” Toji was furious; his eyebrows frowned, and a storm brewed in his expression. Such fucking jealous fury that you could have thought you had pissed in his cornflakes and then hand-fed it to him. A fury not warranted of you leaving a bar with another man. 

“ I decide what’s warranted you brat.” Toji snapped, having easily read your thoughts. “And I told you ‘behave’, loud and fucking clear, didn’t I? DIDN’T I?!” 

“ Yes”, you breathed, your eyes flickered to the side, your gaze landed on Tom’s lifeless body.  Your stomach turned, and bile rose in your mouth until Toji pulled back an inch and then slammed your body against the wall again. Stars danced in your vision, the need to be sick faded as your eyes landed back on his face. Another pained moan fell from your lips. 

Toji used that opportunity to push the gun barrel in your mouth. 

“ You look at me when I’m talking,” he growled, pushing the gun as far in as it would go. “The heck I’m supposed to do with you? Tsk. I turn my fucking head for a minute, and you’re whoring yourself out to some slimeball. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” 

You couldn’t tell what made Toji more furious; the fact that you were ‘whoring yourself out’ or the man you had picked for the occasion. Why the latter would matter you had no clue but you weren’t about to question him when he was in that mood. 

Seconds ticked by, yet to you they felt like agonizing years.

You swallowed thickly, the only movement you dared to do. Toji’s eyes flickered to your throat, then back to your face. The furious expression shifted into a toothy grin. “What are you waiting for? Special fucking invitation? You wanna slut around, then go on, suck this fucking gun like it were that filth dick.” 

“W-what?” You gasped; the words came out muffled. Surely he didn’t just-

“Suck it!” 

He did.  Fuck. How did you even..? Okay, no choice, you had to pretend it was a dick. Or a dildo. Yeah, that could work. It wouldn’t be the first time you sucked off an inanimate object. You just need to get your head in the game, focus, make it look sexy. Believe it. Or you’re done for. 

You took a deep breath through your nose, forced yourself to think of the last time you gave a blowjob, then shifted your head back just a little to give yourself more room to work with. Just a dildo, you told yourself before you started. You bobbed your head back, stuck your tongue out and ran it over the warm metal. Wiggled it over the barrel, lingered on the opening, and then took it back in your mouth as you could. Your eyes water,  lips brushed against Toji’s calloused fingers, then moved back as they twitched. 

You repeated the movement until the anger in his face melted into something carnal. Until you felt his bulge pressed against your thigh. You shivered despite yourself. Fuck he was getting off on this, wasn’t he? You glanced up at his face, and Tojil looked ready to fuck your brains out. 

 “Mmm, good little bitch. Rock that mouth. You look like such a slut sucking on my handgun.”Toji hummed; his eyes never left your. His gaze flickered between your eyes, your lips and the drool running down your chin“God, your mouth is the best thing bout you, isn’t it? Can’t wait to have it on me.”

You flushed, your hand moved from your side to him. You wrapped your fingers around his cock through his sweatpants, the material loose enough for you to grasp him firmly. You could tell he wasn’t fully there yet but fuck he wasn’t soft either. You moaned; Toji bucked into your hand, and you twisted your wrist in time with his thrusts. Your breathing grew laboured, closer to his. He slapped your hand away from himself before he could cum in his pants like a teenager. “Not gonna ah happen.” he rasped, punching the wall beside your head to clear his mind. 

You jumped, flinched off the gun, a string of saliva between you and the barrel. “You say that but...” 

“ Take it back; I like you quiet,” Toji trailed off, readjusting the grip on the gun. His fingers of his other hand over the barrel of the gun gathered some saliva from the corner of your lips and rolled it between his thumb and finger. His eyes ran you up and down before he kicked your legs open. Those coated fingers went straight under your dress, rolling the damp digits over panties, then under in slow, steady circles right over your clit until you threw your head back, moaning.  “Such a nasty slut, I own” 

“Hmmm” you groaned, cracking an eye open as he pressed a kiss to your puffy lips, pushed his tongue it, swirled it in that breath-taking way that only Toji could. You broke the kiss first, panting pitifully. “L-lets go home, baby?” 

“mmmpgh. Nasty sluts don’t need privacy.” Toji sneered; although he was smiling, his eyes still showed nothing but pure jealous fury. “You were gonna fuck that bastard in this very alley, no need to get shy now” He pulled his hand back, gripped the fabric of your panties, then tore them open. “Dumb sluts will fuck anything and everything, won’t they, Y/N?” 

You gasped, whined shook your head; your eyes grew to the sizes of saucers as Toji grabbed your free hand and forced it around the momentarily forgotten gun. The hilt felt warm and clammy, sticky and much heavier than you imagined.

 “T-toji What?” you gasped, shuddering as he trailed your finger over the trigger. 

“Press here, bunny, and you’ll blow yourself a fourth hole, got it?” You didn’t manage to react as Toji lowered the gun between your legs and pushed it in. 

“Toji!” You screamed, bucking away from the metal. His hand, with yours in it, followed your movement.    

“Shh, shh shh like that doll, just like that” The gun pushed deeper into you, coming to a stop at the hilt. He leaned back and took a look at your, your petrified expression, the gun in your pussy and cursed. “That’s it, doll, Treat it like a small dildo, c’mon no need to look so scared, you’ve handled bigger.” His hand let you go and you almost dropped the gun, but Toji caught it and pushed it back into your hand.

 “You drop it- you’ll shoot us both.” Toji growled, waited until you nodded before he removed his hand from the hilt. Your hand remained frozen, unmoving. Toji didn’t care. His fingers went straight back to your clit, rubbing quick circles on it until you arched your back and clenched, then lowered yourself, seeking release on the metal. 

“Ahh y-you’re a monster Toji.” You twisted your face away from him. Toji chuckled and dropped his head on your shoulder, biting at the exposed flesh. 

“ The worst one.” He agreed his fingers picked up speed, so did your hips. Your orgasm building, your pussy clenching around the gun, hand trembled. A little more, a little– “N-nnooah” you threw your head back; despite your protest, your pussy did the opposite, gushing around the gun. Gushing turned to squirting as Toji’s fingers kept going; his other hand dropped down to your hand and the gun and thrust it in and out of you.

 You screamed, and dug your nails into his forearm, the only thing that kept you upright. 

“Fucking nasty” Toji bit your earlobe until you listened. “ You think some random stranger can get you off like this? Match your freak, babydoll? Squirting on my loaded gun in your pussy.” Toji chuckled. “Will you start creaming if I take the safety off too?” 

You mewed, then heard the harrowing click you hadn’t realized was on. Knowing it was off, however, was a completely different story. Your eyes widened, pleasure replaced by panic. He was still jealous? Still not done?!

Fuckfuckfuck. 

“I get it, I am sorry Toji, Please, please forgive me!” you sobbed, your thighs shaking as much as your hand on his arm. 

He was gonna kill you. He was gonna fuck you then kill you. Humiliate you, then pull that fucking trigger straight in your pussy.

FuckingFuckFucktown.

You didn’t want to die; you weren’t ready to die. And you most certainly didn’t want him to pull the trigger inside you. “I’ll do anything just.. Just give me another chance. Please baby, To-bear” 

Toji hummed, his teeth left your skin and his head dropped on your shoulder with a heavy sigh. “Hmm you’re lucky I like you.” He whispered, waited, then twisted the gun a little inside you. 

“I love you, I love you too Toji!” you squealed. 

“ Good. Now then out of love here’s what we’re gonna do, doll” Toji pulled the gun out of your pussy, and stared at the slick dripping thing before he returned it to its holster on his hip. “We’re gonna walk back to m’car, take a trip, and you’ll show me just how sorry you are. And if this happens again-” 

“ It won’t, I promise!” you stared up at Toji with earnest eyes, ready to beg and plead you case as many times as it took for him to go from this to the less manic usual. 

Silence passed until he chuckled, took half a step back, and pulled you to his side. His arm around your shoulder and your face buried in his side, almost as if he tried to shield you from the corpse behind you. “That’s a good doll, don’ make me regret it, cuz if you do…” 

Toji didn’t need to finish that sentence. He didn’t need to. You knew that if you disappointed him again you and the left-behind body would have a lot in common..

— 

The last of the warm sun rays set and were replaced by barely-there moonlight before anything changed in the small behind-the-bar alley. The metal door to the significantly livelier bar creaked opened, and a pair of heel-clad feet stepped out and then shut the door behind them. 

The owner of the feet stood still for a moment, sighed, and then moved closer to the chilled body. As she drew closer, she raised her shoe and kicked the man hard on the fancy dress shoe.

“Oj how long are you gonna waste time laying in the middle of the shitty alley?” A female voice carried through, shortly followed by the light of a cigarette. She made a few more steps, came to a stop in front of her face, and stared down at the man with a bullet wound in his head. She took a deep drag of her cigarette before  she flickered some ash sight onto his chest “And what kind of cover name is ‘Tom’ anyway?” 

“Hey, don’t disrespect the dead, Shoko,” ‘Tom’ cracked an eye open with a lazy grin. He stretched his limbs as though he had just taken a long nap before he slowly sat up, each bone and muscle groaning in protest from laying on the hard pavement god knows how long. Reaching up, he wiped the blood and gunk off his face onto the back of his fancy suit sleeve “- And what’s wrong with ‘Tom’ anyway?” 

“ I’d respect you if you were actually dead. ‘Tom’ sounds like you’re over compensating for your lack of personality with a foreign name. ‘Toru would have worked just fine”, Shoko replied, ignoring his silent request to help pull him up. Satoru whined in response. “Now, let's go before someone actually calls the police on a ‘deadbody’. Last thing I need is to type up another death certificate for you-” 

“-Please do! Then I catch a break from the higher-ups-” 

Shoko kicked his leg, making sure to dive the heel into his thigh until he yelped and shut up. “-Shut it and lets go. Jesus, Toji is a horrid influence on your already awful personality.” Shoko grew tired of waiting for Satoru to pick himself off the ground and turned to leave, not waiting to see if he’d follow.

“ Aww, love you too Shoko, Owie, ow ow ow everything hurts.. huh-hey! Wait for me!” 

Author note: Well this is my attempt at two things at once, Dark dark content and Mystery. Well what do you think? Why was Satoru under cover (Tom?) and was Toji really 'just jealous'?

Main |Raven|Rules & Requests |Masterlist | Links 

All fics are unique works by © miss-cincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[genshin-obsessed]

Hey there! Nice to meet ya! Could I request Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, and Wriothesley's s/o crying when she sees how bloody, battered and bruised they are?

Howdy! Nice to meet you as well! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it ^w^

Your boyfriend wasn't entirely reckless, but there were times when you wondered if he tried hard enough to... you know, not get hit? Normally, you're the one patching him up, and for the little wounds, you manage. But the days he comes back looking like he barely escaped with his life, you can't help but feel that deep seated fear reeling it's ugly head to remind you of the awful reality that one day, he may not come back.

Those are the hardest days for you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Kaeya

"Ow- hey, gentle." Kaeya said with a soft hiss as he felt the rushing pain through his wound, making the other parts of his arm hurt.

"Oh? Can't handle that?" You asked with a slightly frustrated tone as you kept cleaning the wound, not being much gentler. Kaeya frowned and let out a soft sigh as he turned to look at you. He was silent for a moment as he studied you- you looked angry but he could see you biting your bottom lip a little to keep it from trembling. Not to mention the excessive blinking to keep those tears back.

"I'm... ok, (y/n). I promise. It's just a small scratch. It doesn't even hurt that bad, I was just joki-"

"Stop lying to me." You said sternly, your hand pausing as your gaze met his. You could see the guilt lingering within. "I know it hurts. I know you were scared. I know... so stop lying." Kaeya reached up with his calloused hands and gently took yours.

"I'm sorry. I know I tend to worry you a lot. I'm really sorry." He murmured honestly, watching as your defenses broke and the tears filled your eyes. "Don't cry- please, don't cry." He said with a frown as he hugged you against him tightly. Blood slowly trickled down his arm but he didn't care. At the end of the day, it really didn't hurt that bad because you were taking care of him. But he did vow to be much more careful, seeing the toll it was taking on you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Diluc

Diluc sat there silently as you cleaned up the wounds. He didn't say a word or even flinch. You were just as silent, soft sighs escaping you when you turned away from him. He didn't say anything, but he definitely heard them. Once you finished up, you turned away from him, gathering the bloodied towels and tissues that lay around you two.

It was odd. Usually, the second he'd come through the door, you'd begin to scold him and the entire time you cleaned and dressed every single wound, even that tiny scratch that wasn't bleeding, your scolding never stopped. But tonight, you didn't say a single word. Not only that, but you avoided meeting his eyes which just sent a wave of discontent through him.

He waited and waited and waited, but you never spoke. As his crimson eyes watched you gather the cotton and tissues, he finally found his voice and called out.

"I'm... sorry."

"You're always sorry." You replied after a moment of hesitation. That was true. Diluc often got injured and would really just have an apology to give you. No assurances or anything. None that mattered anyway. Before you could leave, his arm shot out and he caught your wrist. Ever so gently, he pulled you back to him, turning your head so that you were looking at him.

"I know. I know, I don't have much other than a sorry to give you. But... I need to know if you're ok. I can tell when you're upset and I know you may not want to talk to me right now. But-" before Diluc could finish his sentence, you broke down. Tears filled your eyes and streamed down your cheeks and you fell against him. Without hesitation- without a word- his arms engulfed you in a warm embrace. So, you weren't ok and he could tell, he wasn't an idiot. But when you sighed and said you were fine, it brought him some form of comfort. But this? This was more painful than any wound on his body.

After that night, you saw less and less unnecessary wounds on him.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Childe

His bruises and bloodied wounds almost always started some sort of argument between you two. You just never understood why he was so careless. Fine, whatever, he liked fighting. But why was he always getting hurt? Not only did he get hurt, sometimes it was bad. Stitches bad.

"You keep frowning like that and your face is gonna get stuck like that." He joked, only for you to glare in his direction. He always did that, he always trivialized the worry you felt for him as if it was unnecessary.

"I'm not a kid, stop it. You know this worries me. Why do you always end up this badly hurt?" Childe actually kept a lot hidden from you, especially when it came to his work as a Fatui. It's not that he didn't trust you- no way. It was just safer for you to not know about his work. Having knowledge was already dangerous, so he just... lied.

"Listen," he began softly as he grabbed your working hand, making that frown on your face deepen. "You're right, ok? I should be more careful and sometimes I'm not. But please don't be too angry with me. Not for my sake, but your own. I don't want you to be sad all night."

"Look at you, Ajax," you said, your voice beginning to shake with the emotions you were so desperately trying to contain. "Look at yourself and t-tell me how I'm n-not supposed to be sad." The tears filled your eyes and when you attempted to blink them back, they just spilled. Childe didn't speak. He just pulled you against him, holding you tightly.

"They're just surface wounds, love. I swear to you- with everything that I am- no one is ever going to take me away from you. I'll always come home to you." And he kept that promise. He was a lot more careful though, doing his best to avoid frivolous fights. It was definitely a big change for him, but your tears that night, they hurt more than any wound he'd ever sustained.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Wriothesley

“It’s not that bad.” Wriothesley said as his gaze remained focused on your face. “It barely hurts, really. Can’t even feel it. I guess I’m just strong— Ack!”

You didn’t say a word, your eyes just shot up to Wriothesley who just sheepishly chuckled. Your silence was just the worst. He’d rather you yell at him, throw things at him, insult him— whatever. Just don’t stay quiet. Not that you've ever resorted to any of those, but he finds anger more manageable than silence.

“Come on, I’m ok. It hurts a little but what wound doesn’t? I really am fine.” He sighed after a moment and leaned back in the chair when you once again refused to speak or even look at him. He knew and understood why you were so upset with him. But it’s not like he could’ve helped it. He got into fights, he had to sometimes. If he backed down, he’d lose respect. It’s not like he fights every meathead out there, he just needs to teach certain people lessons. Doesn’t mean they won’t hit him back.

A small sniffle from you made his icy blue eyes shoot to you. They slowly widened as he felt a small droplet land on his arm.

“Hey, come on, don’t cry. I’m fine. I swear.” He said as he sat right back up and tried to grab your face. You brushed his hand away and kept cleaning the wound before he grabbed your wrist. “(Y/n), please look at me.” He murmured, finally making you stop.

“I don’t care if it doesn’t hurt you, it hurts me.” You didn’t have to say much after that as Wriothesley engulfed you into a tight hug.

It put things into perspective, that one little sentence. Those last three words. There was a drastic shift in his behavior after that day. He was more careful and avoided fights unless it was necessary. Even then, he’d try to push back. Did people question him after that? Of course they did, but Wriothesley only fought those who really required it.

[ladykakata]

Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich are honestly good influences on each other

I swear I'll write proper posts sometime, but it's been swilling around my head with my other thoughts, so I might as well put it down here.

Mickey and Ian are chaotic nonsense idiots, and yet I cannot argue they don't have a good as well as bad influence on each other and that develops as they age (and constantly get pulled back together whenever they break up lmao).

Ian's influence on Mickey

It's a running joke that Mickey in the early series is this filthy goblin just running around being a hoodlum and ... yeah, he is lmao. But it's very notable as the series progresses that he starts becoming cleaner and dressing nicer the more time he spends with Ian. The man specifically wore a shirt to see Ian in the mental ward ffs. Not only that he actually *tries* working a normal job and socialising, something he is deeply uncomfortable with, but does it for Ian's sake. It doesn't escape my notice that he specifically wants to work with Ian whenever he can, probably tying in to my earlier point that he is only completely comfortable around Ian.

If you told S1 Mickey he would be helping his paraplegic father into the house and getting home nursing for him, he would wonder what kind of sick joke you were playing. But he does, something that even surprises Ian at first. Ian inspires Mickey to talk more about his feelings, he openly admits to thinking about missing Ian, whereas before he threatened to cut Ian's tongue out for saying that Ian missed Mickey. The idea of Mickey changing ANYTHING for anyone else is foreign ... but not if Ian suggests it to him the right way.

Ian's non-judgemental or at least lightly judgemental treatment of Mickey allows the man to be far more comfortable with himself. Though still highly defensive, I think it's telling Mickey is completely unashamed to be a bottom in front of Ian, and Mickey can make socially awkward gestures or gaffs and Ian doesn't upbraid him or make him feel like shit for doing the 'wrong' thing. Hell, as much as Ian was utterly, UTTERLY confused at Mickey's groomzilla episode, he mostly kept his confusion silent and simply reined Mickey in when he was losing his temper with vendors. The flower shop scene has Mickey blithely retorting that while Ian was gay, he 'just likes having another man's dick in my ass'. Ian in the same scene was tensing his jaw at the homophobia from the florist, and normally Mickey is quick to snap at anyone who considers him gay ("You calliin' me gay?" before slamming a bar owner's head into the counter), he simply bats it away as he's more focused on the flowers he wants and only becomes aggressive when the services are threatened to be withdrawn. Ian was always sure and comfortable with his sexuality and had little to no tolerance of homophobia, whereas Mickey was in either strict denial or profoundly uncomfortable and highly secretive.

Mickey's influence on Ian

The most obvious one is that Mickey was Ian's guardian during his bipolar struggles once Mickey finally realised what a problem it as, and he was determined to nurse Ian until he recognised (to his horror) he couldn't deal with this on his own and Ian really did need professional nursing and help.

What strikes me in a lot of scenes, both before and after that arc, is that Ian almost has Mickey as a constant in his life. It's a topic more for aspects of Ian's personality, but Mickey was the person Ian turned to when he had no-one else in S1, when he was in the 72 hour psychiatric hold he explicitly says 'Mickey is waiting for me'. Ian's life is constant chaos, much like Mickeys, and Ian is the sort of person who needs and thrives on structure when his brain isn't acting out. Mickey was a constant, someone to always come back to and someone he could rely on. In a way, I also see Mickey as someone who can be the impulsive one of the pair, letting Ian take the role of the mediator. It's easier for you to resist your own stupid impulses if your override kicks in because someone else is doing something foolish.

As much as I joke that Ian is the only person Mickey listens to, the same happens the other way around in the bipolar arc. During Ian's Military Police hallucination, it was Mickey who broke through the delusion after the shock of almost attacking Debbie brought Ian abruptly back to reality. Even as Mickey at first acts with his typical aggression ("There's nothin' out there! Fuckin' look!") and literally dragging him to the front door to prove the other side is the same, he gently reassures Ian that everything is alright and herds him upstairs to get dressed. Mickey made sure to get explicit instructions on Ian's medication and even measured it out for him ("Shut up and take your pills, bitch" is still one of my favourite lines).

I had more thoughts but my brain is soup and I still want to do a post on Ian's mental health and how he interacts with the world.

Send a prompt or aspect of these two if you want to hear me talk absolute garbage about these lovesick idiots

[lynnaredfield3383]

Kenma's Crush - PT 1 (Not my characters. Aged up to 21. Fem Reader.)

"Come on. Please, please, please.”

Kuroo gave you his biggest smile as he tried to convince you to go to a party.

“No. I don't even know half those guys.”

“But you are one of the guys. You fit in with everyone so well. I mean they love you and Kenma really relies on you being there to save him.”

You were angry and Kuroo didn't even realize it, but you couldn't blame him. Your whole life you'd heard that you were just one of the guys. That you were across the board personality wise which drew people to you.

“Kenma should learn how to say no to you. Honestly, you're not that charming or convincing.”

Kuroo clutched his chest as if he'd just been shot.

“That hurt. Really hurt. I thought you loved me.”

“You're my roommate. Love has nothing to do with it.”

Kuroo noticed you were angry, but he couldn't figure out why. As you stomped out of the kitchen he text Kenma.

Roo - U want her to come, ask her.

Ken - U can't convince her?

Roo - Not this time.

Kenma had pulled his hair into the slightly messy ponytail you said made him look adult sexy. He even wore black slacks & the gray button down shirt you said he looked good in. Kenma only wore it for meetings and had bumped into you at your shared apt with Kuroo once while wearing it. The way you looked at him, he swore his heart stopped.

Now you weren't coming and he'd set the party up at his place to ensure his foolproof plan to get you alone. He didn't know what to do. Beg, he would beg, he told himself as he started texting you.

Ken - Will you pls come?

You - Sorry Ken. Not this time.

Ken - Why?

You - Studying & relaxing.

Ken - Pls. I'll buy u anything u want.

You - Come here if u want.

Ken - Party is here. Pls

You sighed when Kenma added prayer hands, kitty emojis and a ton of crying emoji's.

You pulled out a jersey from your ex and smiled. Fine, if you were going to this party it wouldn't be as one of the guys.

Kuroo was in the kitchen when you walked in wearing the jersey as a dress, with black yoga shorts and sneakers.

“Um wow. Who're you trying to impress?” Kuroo asked.

“Nobody. But tonight no one will see me as just one of the guys,” you smiled.

Kuroo text Kenma quickly.

Roo - u better stick by her all nite.

Ken - Y?

Kuroo sent the quick pic he'd snapped when you reached for your jacket. Your legs were long and sexy in it.

Kenma groaned. Why did you have to show off what he already knew you had? There was no way he could ask you tonight. All the guys would be on you.

“You wanna tell me what's going on?” Kuroo asked as he drove.

“I'm tired of being one of the guys. My last 2 boyfriends broke up with me because they only saw me that way. I'm done. This is also the last time I'm going to one of these gatherings.”

“Your exes are idiots. Not were. Are. Okay. Besides…I know for a fact one of the guys there tonight doesn't see you like that. Try and stay open minded.”

“Honestly, I'm gonna stick with Kenma. Probably end up in his gaming room alone.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't know how you felt, or I wouldn't have pushed tonight.”

You smiled at him as you both exited the car. You didn't want him to think you were mad.

“S'kay.”

[heleninhha]

TRAPPED IN SHADOWS | PROLOGUE/EN

I'm bout as broken as I confess but better than most that lay cower. STFD, by TeZATalks

Romantic partner: Azriel (ACOTAR) Summary: When the Winter Solstice arrives, she knows it will be her worst moment, especially when those memories swallow her up like a bathtub full of ice. Approximate reading time: 10min Words: 1,9k Warnings: Slightly angsty, with a bit of cuteness in between and some signs of possible triggers. NOTE: I just want to protect her in a little pot and tell everyone to fuck off, honestly.

PROLOGUE: Winter Solstice Masterlist | Serieslist | Next chapter

Centuries before…

"You look decent."

"Darling!"

"For someone who runs out of the window all the time, that is some etiquette."

The Illyrian sighed, mentally apologizing as she turned her gaze back to her daughter. It wasn't decent, it was an insult, both to the child and to the maids who had helped her get ready. She was too young to notice the pure contempt dripping from another's lips, but the eyes glistening with trapped tears were enough to understand.

Alayna smiled weakly and bent down to fix the ribbon in the younger girl's hair.

"You look beautiful, my love," she said softly, hearing a discredited laugh at her back. "A real princess."

Leaving the women alone in the large room, the Grand Lord rolled his eyes before deciding to check the updates on the evening's festivities. Five seconds later, the satin curtains were swaying and the inviting breath of winter was hugging the bare calves of the girl.

"You ladies are late."

"Don't be rude. A lady is never late, the others are early."

Rhysand snorted, slightly annoyed.

"Of course, Mom."

The female smiled contentedly and called to her firstborn with her left arm outstretched, her eyes fixed on her daughter and any bad feelings she might be radiating. He obeyed, arranging his elegant silk outfit before kneeling before the youngest. His wings automatically circled the female.

"What's up, Blossom?"

Alayna pinched his hip and received a low whistle.

What have we been talking about?

It's a joke.

"Right, Blossom?" A raised eyebrow made him laugh.

"Okay, I surrender. You look beautiful, Dusk."

"Better," the older female hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. "And you, my dear? Do you think your brother looks handsome too?"

The child nodded, fingers squeezing the dress excitedly. Then she smiled, showing her teeth, and her eyes sparkled as the male messed with her hair, receiving another warning from the older woman.

She liked that, how it made her feel when she was with them. It was nice and cozy, like a fireplace on a snowy day.

"Rhysand!"

The girl laughed happily as she watched her favorite people in the world. When her father wasn't around to push her until she couldn't feel anything but anger and despair, she was always with her mother. When the eldest went to sew, the child gladly followed. When she went to pick fruit in the royal garden, she carried an old wooden basket. If she wanted to put on a pretty dress and make faces at people, she had the maids dress her like a porcelain doll.

It was easy for her to see that she would follow her mother into the darkest abyss. Maybe it was a dark thought for such a young fae, but it was one of the few things she was sure of. Well, that and the fact that her brother was incredibly conceited.

"Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it."

"That's not why my nerves are on edge…" The older woman bit her lower lip, her gaze distant. "Forget it. I know you'll make it, my dear."

"I'm the son of the Grand Lord of the Night, of course I can… hey, you brat."

Rhysand frowned at his sister, seeing a hard expression. All right, dangerous game; she could have been grinning like an idiot five seconds earlier, but one word to a high ego on the forbidden subject and the room would be in darkness. Or he'd have his ear pulled, as was happening at that moment.

"You're an annoying little thing," he whispered and turned away from the women before his mother cursed him an infinite number of times. "And we're late again."

"Who taught you to be so impertinent?"

"You did."

"Now, you…"

The boy left before his mother could catch him, passing the guards outside his sister's room. He walked with unusual class, nodding briefly to the younger girl's two confidants and whistling. A minute later, female voices embraced his acute hearing, bringing him to a halt just short of the wide, dark wooden doors that would lead him to hell.

Alayna sighed weakly at her son's side, partly out of breath from the short run, but even a blind man would recognize the true meaning of the oppressive sound. A contemptuous smile, shoulders straight and eyes ablaze, was all she could offer these poor people lost in a fog of lust and false hope.

"I want you to stay close to me," she said, taking Rhysand's hand in a gentle squeeze. "And don't even think of running away."

The girl cringed at the comment, though she felt it wasn't as contemptuous as her father's.

"I'm serious, my dear. You have my support whenever you want to spread your wings, but tonight... not tonight, okay?"

With a bang, the doors to the throne room were thrown open, and faes of all kinds stared at this strange yet powerful trio. One hair of the children of the Grand Lord's consort and the hall would be in pain and agony.

Rhysand felt his hand sweat, but he didn't flinch when he discreetly nudged his mother's back. Then she walked, holding her precious things as if her life depended on them.

The girl's eyes wandered around the room as she was led to the throne, where her father waited with a familiar scowl. Some stared back at her, looks of disgust and astonishment mixed with a strange, sweet smell in the air, while others didn't even give her a chance, choosing instead to watch their firstborn's every breath.

A few more steps brought the trio to their destination, and they all seemed to straighten up as Alayna whispered, her knee hitting the ground with a deafening thud:

"My Lord."

The crowd echoed in amazement and fear, and Rhysand followed in his mother's footsteps, choosing to lower his head and form a thin line with his lips before any nonsense could escape; this was no time for jokes. His sister, however, didn't seem to be thinking the same thing, or at all, for she looked like a frightened statue.

Kneel down, the boy thought, hoping she would get the message, but nothing happened. The girl didn't drop to the floor or give any sign of surrender, just stared into the emptiness of the room as if a ghost were haunting her.

A raised eyebrow, a tired sigh and a sudden tug brought her back to the moment of tension, and her mother mentally apologized as she straightened her knees on the cold floor of the hall.

"Stand up," the Grand Lord commanded.

In an instant, the trio had their backs straightened. Then the eldest stared at the youngest, a bad feeling filling him like cold water, and waved a hand dismissively.

Only when they reached the edge of the room did Alayna allow herself to let her guard down a little, sighing audibly as she leaned her head against the wall for a few seconds, just to get herself together for the rest of the party.

That would be a long night.

A few centuries later, but even before…

The night was still as the female tidied herself up, her lips parted as she tried to draw the outline of her eyes with the greasy black ink. Frankly, it was an almost impossible task, but she was determined to succeed.

"You look gorgeous, my dear."

She snorted a curse with her eyes fixed on the mirror, but she let Lucien know how much that made her want to laugh, because she looked anything but gorgeous.

He laughed as he felt the hairs on his arms stand up in the sudden air under his shirt.

"Think about it, you don't have to worry about your eyebrow at all."

"Just the mouth, right?"

"This is one thing we'll never be able to fix." He shrugged and popping his back as he got up from his friend's comfortable bed. "You've been at it for almost an hour, give it a rest."

She didn't bother to answer, choosing instead to stare at him in the mirror. If it hadn't been for the hideous mask, he would have seen his eyebrow arched in defiance.

"Don't you have some little children to torment?"

"I left it till next week." The fae laughed, her wings flapping in amusement. "You look like a dog wagging its tail."

"Like when you follow Tamlin?"

Lucien was suddenly quiet, aware of the sour provocation. It wasn't a lie that he followed his Grand Lord until when he wasn't asked, but she always made it clear how much such things bothered her. Not that it was her problem; he was older, he was aware of his own attitudes, but he couldn't help but worry about his closest friend.

He was her confidant, her best companion in this shitty situation, so they could throw her to the wolves if someone was bothered by her concern.

"We'll be late if we keep arguing like this." He dodged the issue, running his fingers through his hair as he walked over to the female. "We don't want to disappoint your monstrosity."

A light laugh escaped her red lips. She liked it, how the male made her forget the darkness of the world — and her own.

"Just a second…"

Lucien snatched the pot of kohl from the dressing table and went for the brush in the girl's hand. If it hadn't been for his friend's ridiculous agility, he would have been able to steal it, but before he could blink, the fae was standing next to the closet mirror.

"You're a pain in the ass."

"You're a pain in the ass," she mimicked, pouting. "Just a second, Lulu."

He snorted and threw the container at the dark wood he'd picked it up from.

"So much stress…"

"And whose fault is it?!"

The fairy narrowed her eyes and lowered her right hand as she turned her wrist, shadows swallowing the brush and carrying it to the bowl of paint.

"Don't take your frustration out on me." The man sighed and returned to the bed. "Everyone is nervous, but don't push me.

"I know, I just..." With a sudden heaviness in his voice, his shoulders felt like they were made of lead. "I'm sorry, my dear."

Murmuring acceptance, the younger woman stared at her reflection in the mirror, the raven mask covering her face like a second skin, warm and sticky. She hated it, hated that Tamlin had convinced her to go along with this madness, but most of all she hated Amarantha.

That despicable being… One day she would kill her, and it would be painfully satisfying.

"Let's go before I give up on this shit."

Lucien laughed, some of the weight on his back disappearing.

"As if you had a choice."

"You play with life too much, Lulu."

She ran her hands down her black dress, the slit in her left leg revealing an ancient tattoo in a dead language. Then, with a confident nod, she smiled cruelly, feeling the venom seep through her pink lips; the embodiment of the Spring Court's bitch, completely separate from the dress code. If they made her a puppet, at least she'd have fun.

The male called to her, distracting her from the painful memories that threatened to take her away. An outstretched arm and kind eyes, a series of good deeds that made Lucien a complete gentleman. He could be a jerk in certain situations and extremely stupid when it came to his Grand Lord, but she would follow him to hell — or at least to that shitty party they were chained to.

"Let's parade a little, Greer."

Looking forward to it hehe Taglist: @lenasardn

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Hi, I started reading your stories and I love the, could I please request a modern!slightly older!Eddie x neighbour!reader? He can tell she always excited when texting on her phone, one day as he comes home, she comes out all dressed up for a date but later he finds out reader was ghosted and comforts her? Maybe smut? Maybe reader gets bruises/hickeys easily?

Fluff, jealous Eddie. Mdni. 18+blog.

Request by anon 💞

🫶🥰

Eddie always noticed you. You were his next door neighbour, always friendly to him and he enjoyed talking to you. As well as being sweet, you were also funny and had a dry sarcastic wit that he was instantly taken with.

On a sunny day in June, he was returning from his shift as the local mechanic in the auto repair shop in town. As per usual you were sitting outside and basking in the sunshine, however every couple of minutes you would look at your phone and smile dreamily.

Come to think of it, Eddie had noticed that you were always texting and smiling secretly to yourself the last few days. He was curious at what was causing you to be so smiley and giddy.

He stops to chat for a bit and still feels that tug of wonder when you continue to text this unknown person with the biggest grin on your face. It was stupid but it made Eddie pouty, he was used to making you smile like that.

It didn't take very long for him to find out the roof of your giddiness. After work the next day, he stopped by the store and got a six pack of beer and figured he would ask you to join him for a drink.

Only when he got home you were locking up and he almost swallowed his tongue as he saw that you were dressed to the nines, wearing a dress that highlighted every inch of your body.

You smile at Eddie and grow flustered at the stunned look on his face, "You look amazing princess" he manages to say and your expression brightens in delight.

"Thanks, I have a date". Suddenly the images of you texting, the giddiness and almost shy way you would stare at your phone all made sense, the pieces clicked into place as he realised you must have texting the lucky dude or girl.

"His name is Andrew, I met him at work and we've been talking for a few weeks" Eddie listens to this and feels the swell of jealousy stir in his veins. Andrew was one lucky dude.

"Have fun, any funny business happens then you call me, okay?" He knows he's being protective but he likes you and doesn't want anything sinister happening to you.

You nod and kiss his cheek then hurry over to your car, Eddie watches you go, his cheeks burn with the imprint of your lips on his cheek.

...

Sullen Eddie settles down for a quiet night but is surprised when an hour later he hears the screech of your tires. He peers out the window and watches you get out, slam the door and head into your house.

Fuck, the guy must have been a dick. Making a split second decision, he decides to go and check on you. Anger burns in his veins at the thought of Andrew getting you upset.

He gently knocks on your door and you answer it, there's a trace of tears on your cheeks and Eddie fumes. "What did the fucker do?" he growls, you wipe your eyes and gesture for Eddie to come in.

"He didn't even show Eddie, I waited for like twenty minutes and texted him but he completely ghosted me" Not only was this guy an idiot but he was a stupid one at that.

Your tears tug at Eddie's heart and he pulls you into a hug. You snuggle close to him and lay your head on his chest.

"He's an asshole princess. If I ever run into him I'll kick his ass for making you cry" your sobs quieten and you let out an unmistakable giggle.

"If you let me take you on a date then believe me you would have the time of your life sweetheart" Eddie stiffens as he realises what he said, he can't take it back and honestly he doesn't want to take it back.

You smile impishly and the look on your face takes Eddie's breath away. "Then maybe you should take me on that date Munson, if you're so sure or yourself"

Like magnets you move even closer to each other and Eddie kisses you, feels heat rush through his body as you begin to kiss him back.

He kisses you passionately, moves to your neck and leaves love bites on your skin, then he stops and you make a little whimper of annoyance, glare at him. He trails a finger over the little bites that are blooming on your skin.

"Sorry princess but wooing first before the rest of the good stuff" he promises and you brighten at this.

"Alright Munson, colour me intrigued" Eddie makes a wow then to do his best to woo and make you happy.

Maybe he could sneak a few kisses before then though... 🤭

❤️🫶

[suzukiblu]

New WIP start behind the cut, based off a request from @itty-bitty-fun: “I'd definitely love to see your take on micro/macro”.  . . . you know that thing when a kink is not really your kink and you’re like neutral on its existence, but then, like . . . someone asks you to actually consider it, and then you get way too invested in the process? no reason. asking for a friend.

“This is mortifying,” Kon mutters into his hands, trying not to die of said mortification. 

“Kinda reminds me of my Barbie phase, honestly,” Cassie says with a smirk, offering him the set of doll clothes she just got back from digging up. He glowers disgruntledly up at her, but it’s technically an improvement on the spare ace bandages from Tim’s utility belt that he’s currently wrapped up in. Kon is not actually a self-conscious guy and wouldn’t normally care about anyone seeing him naked, but normally he is two hundred and fifty pounds of half-Kryptonian muscle and not the size of a goddamn Barbie doll, as Cassie has so helpfully and mercilessly seen fit to point out. 

Actually, probably a Barbie doll would be bigger. Like, Kon did not have a “playing with dolls” phase for several very obvious reasons, but he’s pretty sure they’re bigger than he is right now. He’s more, like, action figure-sized. Which, obviously he’d rather be an action figure than a fucking Barbie, given the option, but also Barbies are bigger than action figures, and–and–

Stupid magic.

“You’re really small, wow,” Bart observes as Kon snatches the doll clothes and eyes them sourly. “I bet we could fit you in Tim’s coffee cup. Or maybe even his utility belt. Or maybe–” 

“Shut up, Bart!” Kon snaps, because he really doesn’t like how this feels, actually, and it’s actually kind of freaking him out, and he probably is small enough to fit in Tim’s stupid coffee cup and that’s just not something he really wants to be a thing right now! At all! Or ever! 

Also, the doll clothes are big and shapeless and awkward and came off a stupid cheesy “legally distinct” knockoff Troia doll, which means they’re also sparkly and kind of itch, it turns out, while also being stupidly flimsy and so paper-thin they're practically see-through. He feels like an idiot in them, and doesn’t even wanna think about how stupid he must look. 

Fuck his stupid fucking life. 

Look, Kon’s a big guy, okay? He’s used to being a big guy. Used to being the meat shield and the tank and the one who gets between everybody and the problem. Like this . . . 

What the fuck use is he, like this? 

The spell’s temporary. It’s not permanent or dangerous or anything like that. It’ll be gone by this time tomorrow, if not sooner. 

But it’s not gone yet, and Kon’s no use to anybody like this. 

“Could put you in a dollhouse for the night,” Cassie hums, giving him an amused smile. “Tuck you into bed like a baby doll.” 

“I actually hate you,” he informs her, and she laughs, because she’s the worst. 

“Actually I really like that idea,” Bart says musingly, tapping his mouth. “You grifin’ never let us take care of you.” 

“I still have TTK,” Kon reminds him threateningly, and Bart just cocks his head, looking him over speculatively. 

“So you’re not as strong, but you're still pretty invulnerable?” he asks. 

“Who fucking cares?!” Kon snaps in frustration. He’s still no use right now either way. 

“I just wanna know if we could fuck you like this and not have to worry about hurting you,” Bart replies reasonably, reaching out to stroke a fingertip down his chest. Kon–sputters, kind of, and reflexively recoils from it. 

And also, like. Burns alive, kind of. 

“I–like this?” he sputters. “I'm like, fucking doll-sized, Bart!” 

“Yeah, I know,” Bart agrees. “Like the perfect size to pick up and play with.” 

“Burning alive” is actually not a strong enough phrase for what Kon is doing right now. 

“You already let us dress you up,” Bart points out, poking at the strap of his borrowed clothes. Kon metaphorically vaporizes into atoms and literally dodges away from the poking. 

“I dressed myself,” he says defensively, mortified by the idea of–what exactly does Bart even have in mind? He's not big enough to do anything for any of them. His dick is definitely not big enough to do anything for any of them. Like–how would that even–how would they even–? 

“Hmmm,” Cassie says, and then just puts both her hands around him and picks him up, because she is again the worst, and–well, and then she flips him around, unzips the front of her shirt, and sits him down to recline right on top of her bare cleavage, his head resting back against her breastbone, which is . . . fine, alright. Like–he’ll live with that. Getting snuggled up to a pair of tits big enough to sleep on is not the worst imposition of his life, especially when said tits belong to the most Wonder-ful member of their whole weird nebulously-defined team situationship thing. 

But also, it’s embarrassing, because what the fuck is he supposed to do for her like this? 

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

silly goose | kwon soonyoung

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii we're back baby. genre is: crack. fake dating sort of. friends to ??? basically in love i guess. everyone is an idiot and it's awesome. warnings: reader is implied to be female, wears a dress, does hair and makeup, reader is briefly followed in a menacing kind of way, soonyoung is literally the most dumbest man ever but in the BEST way, reader's friends are quite honestly the actual worst, there is a rather frightening animal encounter that's mostly just funny but could be triggering if you're afraid of birds, lmk if there's anything else i forgot!!! word count: 8.3k

If one was to look up the definition of disappointment, you’re almost positive they’d see a picture of your mom’s face if she ever found out you were in this situation. You’re disappointed in yourself. It was never your plan to be in a loud, crowded club, smushed up against the bar by two large bikers who are bouncing up and down to the beat of the music so that the spikes on the back of the taller one’s jacket get dangerously close to your eyeball. And yet, here you are.

You desperately search the room for the group of very tipsy women you came here with, but they’re nowhere to be found. Scowling, you start to inch out from behind the bikers into a slightly more open space, but even with your improved vantage point, you don’t see them. You curse. Did they really leave you here?

It’s hard for you to understand why you were even invited to this bachelorette party. The bride is your childhood best friend, but you’ve been out of touch for years. Your lives went in completely different directions after high school, clearly evidenced by the predicament in which you currently find yourself. Where you had never been the life of the party, she seemed to have no life without a party. You found yourself wishing for the thousandth time you could be at home with your books and your remote and your cat.

You decide there’s nothing for it and head outside to try and call your friend. She picks up on the third ring, and her voice is slurred and barely distinguishable over the cacophony of sound in the background of the call. You think she’s saying that they’re taking a bus to a bar across town -- about an hour away from where you are now. To get there, you’d have to call a cab and pay almost $100, or you could walk to your apartment, which is three blocks from here. “I’m going to go home,” you tell her, and she laughs and agrees and hangs up.

You grimace at your phone screen and shiver slightly. It’s a chilly night, and you didn’t bring a jacket, so you decide it’s best if you start walking. The way home is well-lit and relatively crime free, so you aren’t nervous as you set off from the club. 

That is, until you notice someone is tailing you. He’s a taller man, with scruffy facial hair and red-rimmed eyes that scare you. As you glance over your shoulder, he calls after you. “Where are you headed?” he asks.

“Going to meet my boyfriend,” you claim, desperately trying to shake him off. He seems to be picking up speed, slowly gaining on you as you walk, and as you round a corner you see a group of three well-dressed men standing in front of the movie theater just ahead. “That’s him right there,” you say, pointing at them, and the man trailing after you only picks up his speed, so you make the risky choice to jog toward them and grab ahold of the nearest man’s arm. He has his back toward you, but as you wrap your hand around his bicep, he turns to look at you.

Oh, wow, you think. Because you couldn’t have chosen a hotter man to pretend to be your boyfriend -- unless, of course, you were to have chosen either of his friends. It was strange to be surrounded by so many extremely attractive men, almost like interrupting a model meetup. But you quickly recover, smiling at the man whose arm you grabbed and saying, “Hi, honey.”

You try to communicate with your eyes, and though the man at first looks confused, he glances over your head and sees the man who’d been following you and his eyes light with understanding. “Hello, muffin!” he shouts far too loudly. 

You wince. Muffin? you think to yourself. But still, you can’t help but be amused as he puts an arm around you and sends an angry look at the man. “This is my girlfriend,” he yells at him.

“You’re being way too obvious, dude,” one of your fake boyfriend’s friends hisses at him. 

“I call BS,” the stalker says, to your horror and surprise. “What’s her name?”

“Mildred,” your fake boyfriend says with no hesitation. 

You try not to let the shock of this answer register on your face. 

The stalker hesitates. “Is he really your boyfriend, Mildred?”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. “Uh, yep.”

“Oh, okay then,” the stalker says. The three of you stare at each other for awhile before he turns around and leaves. 

“I cannot believe that worked,” one of your fake boyfriend’s friends says, smacking his forehead. 

“Remind me never to call you in a crisis,” the other one says, chuckling.

“What do you mean?” your fake boyfriend says indignantly. He looks at you, as though wanting your opinion, his arms still around you. “I feel like we nailed that.”

You can’t help but smile at him. He really is unfairly pretty, with perfectly tousled black hair, an artful slit in one eyebrow, and a smile that has you wondering if maybe you do believe in love at first sight. “Thanks for helping me out,” you say, so you don’t have to lie and agree that he nailed it. “Do I really look like a Mildred, though?”

“Mildred is a lovely name,” he says matter-of-factly. “And you are lovely.”

You laugh, feeling a little hot around the collar. “And what’s your name?” you ask him, holding out your hand for him to shake.

He takes it and shakes it with a warm smile. “I’m Soonyoung,” he says. He releases you from his grip with a small shake, as though reminding himself to do it. As if he’d gotten lost in you for a second.

“Soonyoung,” you repeat. “And your friends?”

“Seungkwan,” the shorter of the two others says.

“Seokmin,” the taller one replies. 

“Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Seokmin,” you chant. “Well, thanks so much for your help, guys. I need to get home to my cat.”

“By yourself?” Seokmin says in a worried tone.

“In the dark?” Seungkwan follows, equally worried.

“Without a jacket?” Soonyoung says, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Well...” you say. “It’s not very far.”

“How far?” Seungkwan asks.

You hesitate. “How do I know you’re not serial killers?”

They all blink at you. “Us?” Seokmin asks.

“We’re idiots,” Soonyoung says sincerely. 

They all nod in agreement. “Seriously. If we were serial killers, we’d be caught in no time,” Seungkwan says.

“Let us walk you home,” Soonyoung insists. “I want to meet your cat.”

You’re still a bit nervous, but they keep a respectful distance as they walk you down the next two and a half blocks to your apartment building. You quickly realize that they weren’t lying. 

They are actually idiots.

The entire fifteen minute walk, Seungkwan and Seokmin are arguing about whether or not tomatoes are a fruit, culminating in Soonyoung opining that if tomatoes are a fruit, ketchup is a smoothie. The other two are (understandably) outraged by this, leaving you comforted that you actually could probably take all three of them in a fight at once, seeing as how they all seem to share one single brain cell. 

There’s something so endearing about their banter, though. So much so that when you finally arrive at the apartment, you find yourself asking if they want to come in for a minute and escape the chilly weather.

“Are you sure?” Seokmin asks.

“Positive. I have some instant ramen we could make, too. Just to warm you up. As a thank you for getting me home safe.”

They look at each other and then nod. “We’d love to,” Seungkwan says. 

So you lead them up to your door on the third floor. “Your apartment is so cute!” Soonyoung exclaims, admiring the pretty crocheted decorations that line your walls. “I love these.”

“Thanks,” you say. “I made them.”

He looks at you in awe. “You did? That’s so cool!”

“I’m glad you think so,” you say with a smile. 

“What do you do for work?” Soonyoung asks you.

“I’m a social worker,” you tell him. “I work with families in tough situations. Help them get their feet under them.”

“Do you work for the government, then?” asks Seungkwan.

“Make yourself at home,” you tell the three of them, who are standing awkwardly in the entry. As they settle onto the couch, you explain, “I actually work for a subcontractor of the government. We’re a nonprofit. On weekends, we also do a soup kitchen, and help run food banks throughout the county.”

“That must be very fulfilling work,” Seokmin points out. “Do you like it? I hear it can be tiring.”

“It’s good, but I don’t get paid enough,” you admit. “And before you ask, I do have a roommate. She’s just in the hospital. Appendicitis.”

They all wince, and Seungkwan hums sympathetically. You head to your pantry and rummage around looking for the instant ramen, finally locating it and putting a pan on the stove with water. Meanwhile, the guys find your box full of games and pull out the Monopoly. “We should play this!” Seokmin says. 

Seungkwan laughs. “We just met her, and you already want to ruin our friendship?”

Soonyoung pulls out a deck of cards. “How about Scum?”

The three of them set up the game while you make the ramen, and by the time you’re all served up all the cards have been dealt. You watch them over your own bowl of ramen, amused at the gusto with which they eat and heartwarmed by their compliments. You’re generally a bit of an introvert, but even you have been lonely the past few days with your roommate gone, and the unexpected company is warm, inviting, and friendly.

Until Scum begins. Unbeknownst to you, this group of three is the most cutthroat, merciless group of players who have ever lived. Their competition knows no bounds, and they seem determined to destroy each other, by whatever means necessary. “Don’t worry,” Seokmin whispers conspiratorially to you while Soonyoung and Seungkwan argue tooth-and-nail about a minor rule of the game. “They’re always like this, but they really do love each other.”

It takes all of them by surprise when you are the first to get rid of your cards, guaranteeing you the “king” spot. “That came out of nowhere!” complains Seungkwan.

You shrug. “I’m good with strategy games. Never challenge me to a game of Settlers of Catan,” you joke. 

Just then, your cat pokes his head around the corner and mewls reproachfully at all the noise you’re making. “Hi!” Soonyoung says excitedly, quickly dropping his cards to head over to the cat, making little cooing noises at him as he strokes his soft orange fur. “What’s its name?”

“He’s a he,” you tell him. “And his name is Tiger.”

The three men all freeze and look at you. “What?” you ask, looking around at them in worry.

“No way,” Soonyoung breathes.

Seungkwan groans. “You’ve really done it now.”

“What did I do?” you ask, bewildered.

“That’s like, the forbidden word,” Seokmin says, his tone apologetic.

Your eyes land on Soonyoung, whose entire face has lit up. “I love tigers,” he says, looking on the verge of tears.

“Love is an understatement,” Seungkwan says. “He is about to ask for your hand in marriage.”

“Will you marry me?” Soonyoung asks immediately afterward, making you laugh. His hands are still gently cupping Tiger’s face, his thumbs rubbing the cat’s fur back tenderly.

“I barely know you, Soonyoung,” you remind him. “You’ll have to pretend to be my boyfriend a couple more times before I’ll agree to marriage.”

“Bet,” Soonyoung says. “This cat needs a father. There’s nothing sadder than a fatherless cat.”

You privately disagreed, but it makes you laugh again all the same. “When am I ever going to need you to pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Soonyoung tsks. “I’m sure we could think of something.”

But almost as soon as you’d asked the question, you remembered: the wedding.

Your friend’s wedding -- the one who’d abandoned you tonight. And the one who, against your wishes, had invited your horrible ex-boyfriend. You’d had a plus-one — your roommate, who you’d enlisted to make the entire event endurable. But last-minute, her sister had needed help babysitting her daughter while she went to a divorce hearing on the day of the wedding. The wedding was in two weeks, and you didn’t have a backup date. 

Soonyoung watches in satisfaction as your face falls. “Tell me,” he says. “How can I be of service?”

“Well…you can say no,” you preface, and he chuckles. “But...” 

You launch into the story of the night. Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin listen well throughout it, making noises of exasperation and annoyance as you explain why you’d had to interrupt their evening by pretending to be Soonyoung’s girlfriend. “They really left you there?” Soonyoung asks, frowning. He seems to tire of crouching by Tiger, so he sits crosslegged on the ground. You watch carefully as Tiger gingerly climbs into Soonyoung’s lap -- something it took him almost a year to do with you. Tiger is an affectionate and social cat, but he does take some time to warm up, usually. But something about Soonyoung seems to have put him at ease. Soonyoung doesn’t even seem to notice, absently massaging his fingers into Tiger’s neck fur.

“They really did,” you finally reply, oddly touched by the sight of Soonyoung with your cat.

“You need better friends,” Seungkwan says indignantly.

You give him a weak smile. “You’re probably right about that. But I already said I’d go, and they’ve planned for me. So it’d be bad to back out now.” You sigh. “It would be so nice to have someone to go with who’s friendly. And you can totally say no if that’s too much awkwardness to put up with for an evening.”

“Well, I have no problems with going if it means I get to spend more time with your cat in between now and then,” Soonyoung says, tickling Tiger’s stomach and giggling as Tiger swats at his fingers.

“You can always come see my cat whenever you want,” you promise him. “Even if you say no.”

“Really?” he asks, sounding thrilled. “I mean, I’m saying yes, though.”

You let out a deep breath. “Thank you so much. You’re such a lifesaver.”

“I know. Imagine the poor decisions this cat would’ve made if I hadn’t decided to be his dad.”

“I resent the implication that I am a horrible mother who can’t raise a cat to be a good citizen who makes positive contributions to society.”

“Yeah, you psycho, respect this single mother!” Seungkwan says, smacking Soonyoung’s arm.

“Well, you’re partially right,” you admit with a laugh. “Tiger is a war criminal with warrants in 32 countries.”

Soonyoung laughs as well. “See! Fatherless behavior.”

“Plenty of cats grow up to be respectable without fathers,” you say indignantly. “Just not Tiger. He’s possessed of a devil.”

The four of you all have a good laugh about this, while Tiger chirps indignantly at the sudden sound, clambering out of Soonyoung’s lap and darting down the hallway. “Traitor!” Soonyoung calls after him, heading back to the card table to finish playing. 

By the time the trio bows themselves out of your apartment, you feel warm and sleepy. It’s been a long time since you’ve had people over to your house and enjoyed it — you had forgotten how nice it was.

******

“Hey there,” you greet your friend Ginger, who waves at you from her hospital bed. 

“Hi,” she says back. “How was the bachelorette party?”

“A complete disaster, as predicted,” you tell her, pulling up a chair next to her bed. “When are you coming home?”

“Tonight, if things go well,” she informs you. “But you said you had something to tell me. Is it good or bad?”

“It’s good,” you say with a shy smile.

“How good?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Like, weird-good.”

“Explain.”

“I found a date for tomorrow.”

Her eyes go wide. “You caught someone’s eye? During the bachelorette party?”

“No, after. Well, actually, the guy whose eye I caught was a total creep. But then I forced a different dude to be my fake boyfriend to shake off the first dude, and he agreed to be my date to the wedding.”

“Is he gonna pretend to be your boyfriend there too?” she asks, a suggestive edge to her voice.

“I don’t think so. I mean, we just talked about him coming with me so I wouldn’t have to go alone.”

“How did that even come up?” she asks you.

“Well, they kind of walked me home...”

“They?”

“There were three of them initially,” you explain apologetically.

“You let three random strangers walk you home?”

“Well, they openly admitted to being idiots when I asked if they were serial killers, so I thought it was probably safe.”

“You’re an idiot,” Ginger says dryly.

“Anyway, Soonyoung -- the one who’s gonna be my date -- wanted to meet Tiger. Because he loves tigers. And then it kind of devolved into playing Scum, and then Soonyoung claimed that if he just spent more time with Tiger he’d stop committing dastardly crimes every chance he gets. And then he asked if I’d need a fake boyfriend so that he could help me raise my cat right, and it was this whole thing, and now that I’m telling you the story it sounds really dumb but it was kind of sweet.”

Ginger is staring at you with raised eyebrows during this whole account. When you finally clam up, she sighs. “So, I hate to be the person to have to tell you this, but Soonyoung is actually in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp. “Why do you think that?”

“He is using your cat to get closer to you because he’s too scared to really ask you out because he really likes you.”

“I’m not sure that’s true. You should’ve seen his face when he heard the cat was named Tiger.”

Ginger rolls her eyes. “Girl, I know more about men than I care to admit. This is textbook crush behavior.” She grunts as she adjusts her position. “And I think you like him back, too.”

“I barely know him,” you protest, heat rising in your cheeks.

“Is he hot?” she asks shrewdly.

“Yes,” you answer, without hesitation or even a single iota of forethought. You cringe at your own obviousness, and Ginger laughs.

“It’s okay,” she reassures. “But how hot?”

You consider for a while before answering. “It’s hard to describe,” you complain, feeling more and more uncomfortable the longer it takes. “He’s...pretty.”

“A pretty boy?” Ginger repeats.

“No, like, he doesn’t look dainty -- but he’s not rugged or anything. But he doesn’t exactly look soft either. But he’s not quite all the way to edgy.” You realize you’re rambling once you catch sight of Ginger’s face.

Ginger shakes her head. “You’re a goner,” she sighs.

Conveniently, your phone starts buzzing before you can respond -- not that you really had a response anyway. It’s an unknown number, but you decide to answer it. “Hello?” you say. 

“Hi,” a familiar voice chirps on the other end. Your eyes go wide, and you mouth “Soonyoung” to Ginger, who is observing curiously.

“Hi!!!” you respond back, and then wince -- you were a little too eager, and Ginger makes a face at you too. You resolve to be much cooler going forward, and take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Hi,” he says again, this time sounding amused. “What’s up?”

“Hi. Um, nothing much,” you reply. “What’s up with you?” Wow, what a zinger! you think to yourself. Why did you choose this moment to become an awkward fumbling mess?

“Well, I’m near your apartment, and I was wondering if you were home. I missed Tiger, you see.”

“Ah,” you say. “Well, um, I’m actually...out right now?” Your voice raises a few notes too high at the end of your phrase, and Ginger is pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation, trying to fight back a laugh.

“Ah, that’s bad luck. Where are you?” Soonyoung asks.

“I’m just visiting my roommate in the hospital,” you say, confused as Ginger frantically shakes her head and makes an X with her hands. 

“Tell him you were just leaving and you’ll be there soon,” she hisses, pushing you with her foot off of her hospital bed. 

“Oh, how is she doing?” Soonyoung asks. “Is she feeling better?”

“She’s absolutely fine,” you grunt, trying to fend off Ginger’s attacks and failing, slumping off the bed onto the floor. “I was actually on my way home, though. Do you have time to wait?” You stand and snatch your bag from off the small table in the room and stick your tongue out at Ginger, who blows you a kiss and waves enthusiastically as you leave.

“Yes,” Soonyoung responds immediately. “Actually, are you hungry? I brought some chicken.”

“I’m actually starving,” you answer honestly. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

True to your word, you sprint all the way out of the hospital and almost all the way home, stopping around the corner to your place to try and catch your breath and look cool when you see Soonyoung. Ginger’s words bounce around your brain in a disconcerting way, and you feel like you’re sweaty and flustered in a way that no amount of time stalling could really fix. So you decide to just bite the bullet and turn the corner. 

You can see Soonyoung waiting at the door to your apartment building. When he catches sight of you, his whole face lights up in a smile. And oh, what a smile it is. You have to physically restrain yourself from squealing at how obscenely adorable he is -- his eyes softening into crescents, his cheeks going all round and his nose scrunching just slightly. You can’t help but smile back as you finally reach him. “Hey,” you say, going for a breezy, cool vibe and missing the mark embarrassingly.

“Hi,” Soonyoung says, and to your comfort, he sounds just as eager as you did on the phone. “Um, how was the walk?”

“It was great! Super chill, super lowkey,” you lie through your teeth, thinking about how you had sprinted in a very not-chill, not-lowkey way to come see him. 

“That’s good!” he exclaims back.

“What were you doing near my house?” you ask, leading him toward the door.

“Oh, well, actually, I had to go visit this restaurant my friend works at,” he says, stuttering a little. “And he actually made extra chicken, so I thought -- well, and I knew you lived close by, so I thought it would be fun if we...I don’t know, got to know each other before the wedding?” He shrugs cutely. 

“You can just say you wanted to see my cat,” you tease, pressing the elevator button.

“I did, on the phone,” he reminds you.

“Oh,” you say.

“Oh,” he replies.

The two of you stare at each other for a minute.

Then, Soonyoung says, “Why are we so awkward?”

He doesn’t sound worried -- he even has a laugh in his voice. And for some reason, the easiness with which he addresses the strange tension in the air seems to dissipate it a bit. 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a laugh. “I’m not very good with surprises. I never know how to react. But I’m very glad you’re here.” Finally, the sincerity of the words shines through, and though you normally would’ve been embarrassed at the admission, you aren’t.

He smiles that brilliant smile yet again, and your heart does a little happy-dance in your chest. “Me too,” he replies fervently. 

“What do you do for work?” you ask him as the two of you board the elevator. “I never asked, before.”

“Oh, that. I’m actually a kindergarten teacher,” he tells you.

You are gobsmacked at this information. “You don’t look like a teacher,” you tell him.

“Oh yeah? What do I look like?” he asks, striking a ridiculous pose. 

You giggle. “A rockstar, maybe. Or a band manager.”

“Thank you, I think,” Soonyoung says.

“You’re welcome,” you say with emphasis. “It was a compliment.”

The two of you chat aimlessly all the way into your apartment, where Soonyoung immediately starts calling for Tiger. “Your daddy’s home,” he bellows into the empty apartment. “Where are you, son?”

You absolutely know the neighbors must have heard him, but your brief embarrassment is soothed when Tiger comes tearing around the corner, coming to a screeching halt at Soonyoung’s feet. “He never does that,” you say, in awe of this overt affection from your normally skittish-around-strangers cat. 

“He knows who I am,” Soonyoung says, bending down to pick up Tiger and cradle him in his arms like a baby. “My son,” he coos, tickling his belly and laughing when Tiger bats at his fingers with his paws.

You catch yourself before Soonyoung can tear his attention away from Tiger, knowing you were probably staring at them with heart-eyes. Shaking yourself, you open the box of chicken Soonyoung left on the counter. “Do you mind? I actually haven’t eaten today.”

Soonyoung’s gaze snaps to you. “It’s like four in the afternoon!” he exclaims indignantly. “What do you mean, you haven’t eaten today?”

“Well, I woke up kind of late, and then I was running around doing important errands, and then I had to go see my friend,” you explain. “I kind of forgot.”

He tsks in annoyance. “Well, you need to take care of yourself too. How am I supposed to co-parent this cat with you if you pass away from malnutrition?”

“You are so dramatic,” you laugh. “This doesn’t happen very often. I promise I’m a regular eater.”

He eyes you suspiciously. “Okay. You’d better be.”

You dig into the chicken while you watch Soonyoung play with Tiger. “Holy cow!” you exclaim. “This is amazing.”

“I’ll tell my friend you said so. You should go to his restaurant, it’s right across the street from you.”

“I definitely will,” you say, taking a seat at the table and patting the chair next to you. “But I think it’s time for your interview.”

“Interview?” he asks.

You nod. “I’m not about to just let the first cat-loving man I come across be Tiger’s father. I need to see if you’re prepared for the role.”

So Soonyoung, giving you a cautious look, comes to sit beside you with Tiger trotting after him. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask him.

“That’s hardly a standard interview question,” he protests, laughing. 

“This is hardly a standard interview,” you shoot back. “Now tell me.”

He thinks for a minute. “Black and white.”

“Hmm, interesting,” you muse, but before you can go any further, he raises a hand.

“How about you?” he asks.

“I’m asking the questions!” you say indignantly, and he chuckles.

“Okay, but shouldn’t I know my son’s mother?” He makes a face. “That sounded weird. You know what I meant.”

You stare at him, considering, for awhile before answering. “Orange,” you finally reply. Then, in a teasing tone, you add, “Like a tiger.” 

“You’re joking,” Soonyoung insists, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. 

“I’m actually not,” you admit. “And can I confess something else: tigers are easily in my top five favorite animals.”

“Well, anything lower than number one is just bad taste,” Soonyoung claims, grinning.

“Ah, well, I guess we can’t all have entirely correct opinions,” you sigh. “Except you, of course.”

“You’re such a fast learner,” Soonyoung praises.

And on the conversation goes. Usually, when talking to someone as pretty as Soonyoung is, you find yourself tongue-tied and awkward, but talking with Soonyoung is as easy as breathing. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the man seems to have no idea how gorgeous he is -- he doesn’t take himself too seriously, and is incredibly silly in a way most men of his level of attractiveness aren’t willing to be. And he makes you feel smart and interesting, appearing just as fascinated by your answers as you are with his.

Over the course of your conversation, you learn that Soonyoung is close with his mother; he loves all animals; he befriends strangers on public transportation and is a caring and loyal friend to so many people he can hardly keep track of them all. He can’t drink very well, he gets sad late at night, and when you ask him what he’s most proud of, he tells you that he always knows who the killer is in a game of mafia.

Try as you might to discover any red flags that would disqualify Soonyoung as the perfect father for your cat, your interview proves quite the opposite. The less-than-rational wing of your mind-palace is already picking out your wedding colors for the inevitable moment you marry this man. The less feral part of your mind is, surprisingly, cautiously optimistic. For all your reservations about dating, Soonyoung has proven someone you very much enjoy getting to know.

After several hours, the two of you arrive at the first lull in the conversation, when your laughs fade out and you just look at each other, electricity charging the air. Soonyoung breaks the silence. “So, did I get the job?”

You pretend to deliberate for a single second. “Absolutely,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake.

He throws his arms around you instead. “We’re actually married now, and married people hug,” he explains.

You giggle nervously, despite the growing heat in your face. “I don’t remember you proposing today,” you scold him lightly, still hugging.

“The one from last night is still valid,” he says, breaking apart. “Honey,” he adds as an afterthought.

Just then, your phone rings. You answer it quickly, rushing to your bedroom to take the call. After a few minutes, you return to the kitchen apologetically. “It’s work,” you tell Soonyoung. “A situation came up with a client.”

“Do you need to leave now?” Soonyoung asks, jumping up. “Can I give you a ride?”

You shake your head. “It’s actually an hour drive and I’m not supposed to bring people who aren’t privy to the case. But — well, Tiger usually gets fed around 8 pm, and I don’t think I’ll be back by then. Would you be okay to do that? If not it’s totally fine, I can call my sister-in-law to do it.”

Soonyoung beams. “Of course. Can I wait for you to get home?”

You blink. “Soonyoung, it’ll be at least four hours from now. Probably more. We’re talking past midnight.”

“No school tomorrow,” Soonyoung reminds you, shrugging. “Plus, a group of friends invited me out to drink tonight, and I didn’t really want to go. Now I’ve got an excuse.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “You are genuinely the best,” you say, going to him and wrapping him up in your arms. “Thanks.”

He seems taken aback by your sudden hug, but responds all the same. “Be safe on your way to work,” he says softly in your ear, raising goosebumps on the back of your neck, and you steal one final look at him before leaving.

******

By the time you get home, it’s nearly one in the morning. As you slump tiredly against the steering wheel of your car before going in, you check your phone and find several missed calls from Ginger. It is only then you remember she was scheduled to come home today, and more than likely did — to Soonyoung. 

You race up to your apartment and open the door. Sure enough, curled up on the couch with Tiger is Soonyoung. He’s fast asleep, his cheek squished against the firm cushion, Tiger keeping vigil at his stomach. Tiger meows reproachfully as you come in, taking quiet steps to Ginger’s room. She’s resting with her back against the headboard, but she opens her eyes at the sound of her door. 

“So, I came home to a man in my house,” she says expectantly. “That was crazy.”

“Yeah. We had a runaway situation that I had to figure out, and Soonyoung stayed to feed Tiger and make sure I got home okay,” you explain softly, not wanting to wake Soonyoung.

“I’m so glad he’s not a serial killer,” Ginger whispers. “He was very attentive. Kept checking on me and asking if I needed anything.”

“He did?” you ask, your heart in your throat. 

“He seems like a tender little guy,” Ginger says, watching you carefully.

“He does,” is your simple reply. You can’t trust yourself to speak without crying.

******

Soonyoung ended up accidentally sleeping over that night. In the morning, the three of you — Soonyoung, Ginger, and yourself — spent a fractionally awkward but mostly pleasant morning breakfasting together before Soonyoung insisted it was time for him to shower. After that day, he dropped by frequently. 

Sometimes he would stay for just twenty minutes, dropping off a book or visiting Tiger. Occasionally he’d bring by an ingredient for a dinner you were making, and you made it a habit to invite him to join on those occasions. The easy conversation between the two of you became an easy friendship, bursting with silliness and laughter and acceptance of each other’s quirks. You felt more and more like your real self around him. Which was crazy, especially given how thoroughly and extremely smitten with him you are.

It had taken you less than a week to realize your feelings. You’d expected to start feeling uncomfortable around Soonyoung, but for some reason, he just made it so clear that he cared about you that you didn’t even worry about if he liked you or not.

You reflect on this as you drive to your friend’s house to get ready before the wedding. You’re nervous about how this whole day will go, but the promise of seeing Soonyoung later makes it all worth it. In fact, just the thought of him being with you seems to calm your nerves and make it easier to face the day. 

You mostly keep to yourself with the bustle of getting ready. The soft pink dresses the bride picked as your bridesmaids’ dresses are not your normal style or color, but you like how the sleek satin fabric looks on you. It pairs well with your minimal hairstyle and makeup. Before you know it, it’s time for you to go get Soonyoung.

When he opens the door, his face breaks into a huge smile. “You look beautiful!” he exclaims, covering his mouth with both hands. 

“You look so handsome!” you reply, looking him up and down. He looks amazing in his black suit, white shirt, and black tie. 

“You’re not supposed to outshine the bride,” Soonyoung says sternly. “I don’t think they’ll let us in.”

“Stop it,” you say, flustered. 

“I’m serious,” Soonyoung insists. 

“Well, if they don’t let us in, I think I’d prefer that,” you say honestly.

“I’m actually excited,” Soonyoung admits. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“Even though my friends are...”

“Kind of awful? Yeah, I’m not worried about it.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I’m not planning on paying them any attention at all,” Soonyoung says simply, his eyes fixed on you. And as he helps you into the driver’s seat, you can’t help but smile.

The wedding is a lavish affair. After the complicated wedding ceremony, where you stood at the farthest distance from the bride and had a hard time tearing your eyes away from Soonyoung, who stared at you the whole time, he whisks you away to your dinner table. 

“Did you enjoy the ceremony?” you ask as Soonyoung pulls out your chair for you to sit down. 

“It was quite a view,” he teases lightly as he sits beside you.

You know what he really meant, and you give him a shy half-smile before replying, “It sure is beautiful out here!” You gesture around at the venue, which is gorgeous — a beautiful private property with loads of land, and a gazebo on the banks of a large pond, where the ceremony took place.

Soonyoung scoffs. “Well, yeah, but you seem determined to miss my point.” Nonchalantly, he slips a hand onto your knee, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. “I’m flirting with you.”

“Oh, are you?” you ask, feigning surprise. “I hadn’t noticed.” But in reality, it’s impossible to stop yourself from beaming. 

“Well, we are married,” Soonyoung says, his hand sliding across your knee to find your hand. He tangles his fingers with yours. “I think it comes with the territory.”

“If you say that too loud, you’re going to make people think it’s true,” you joke.

“Let them think that,” he says, his eyes trained on you in a way that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You squeeze his hand and look away, slightly panicked.

Your eyes land below the table. “I like your shoes,” you blurt.

Soonyoung looks down at his plain black loafers. “These are like, my least interesting pair of shoes,” he points out with a sly grin.

“Well, you’re an interesting man,” you say, trying to recover but feeling flustered all the same. “What are your most interesting pair of shoes?”

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“The only thing I can count on is that they’re tiger-related,” you reply, grateful for this subject shift.

Soonyoung nods. “Calvin and Hobbes Air Force Ones,” he confirms proudly. “I should’ve worn them.”

“You would have made the bride angry.”

“That makes me want to wear them even more,” Soonyoung grumbles.

“What’s your beef with my friends?” you ask him lightly, absently trailing one of your hands over his arm.

He leans in to almost-whisper the answer. “They left you vulnerable when they should have been taking care of you, and that bothers me.”

You’re taken aback by how serious the usually silly Soonyoung sounds, but before you have a chance to respond, the music starts, heralding the arrival of the new Mr. And Mrs. You take the moment of cheering and applause to breathe deeply and steady your trembling hands. This is Soonyoung, you remind yourself. You don’t need to be nervous around him.

You’ve sufficiently pulled yourself together by the time you have Soonyoung’s attention again. “So, what will you do after the wedding is over?” you ask him, trying to keep the new, flirty side of him locked away.

“That’s an amazing question that I actually was going to ask you. Do you wanna watch a movie?” he asks.

“Well, my place is empty tonight, so that sounds kind of fun,” you admit, not sure you fully succeeded at not flirting. 

“Perfect,” he says. “So, what are you in the mood for? Action? Horror? Romcom?”

“How about…a wholesome sports movie? Those are my favorite genre of movies.”

“Really?” he asks with interest. “This surprises me about you.”

The conversation settles into its normal easy rhythm — all through dinner, you talk and laugh and enjoy each other’s company. When the dancing starts, you allow Soonyoung to pull you into his arms on the dance floor, following his lead in a smooth trot-step. “You’re a good dancer,” you observe.

“I teach kid’s dance classes on the side,” he admits. “It’s my night job.”

“Ah, and here I was, thinking you probably did pole-dancing after hours,” you tease.

“I know you’re not serious, but I am actually extremely flattered you’d assume that,” Soonyoung says. “Pole dancers are strong.”

“So are you,” you point out. 

“How do you know?” he asks.

You swallow hard. “Uh, you — your arms,” you stutter. “They're…really nice.”

Soonyoung (unconsciously?) flexes his bicep under your hand, and your knees nearly buckle. It’s almost pathetic how affected you are by him, especially given that he hasn’t even made a move yet, and you cringe inwardly at yourself.

“Are you okay? You look uncomfortable,” Soonyoung asks. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine?” you reassure, but in the least convincing voice ever. 

“Do you need some water?” he asks, concerned.

“Yes, that’d be amazing,” you say, shooing him away and fanning at yourself, your mind full of useless chiding for being so embarrassingly whipped.

A tap on your shoulder startles you from your thoughts. “Hi,” says a familiar voice — and your stomach drops.

It’s your ex boyfriend, the one you’d asked your friend not to invite but to no avail. “Hi,” you say shortly. 

“You look great,” he says, to no reply from you. “The color suits you.”

“Is there something you want?” you ask him, trying to make it clear you don’t want to talk with him about anything.

“Just trying to catch up on what’s happened since, well, you know—“

“Since I caught you cheating?” you finish. “Yeah, life’s been really great since then. Thanks for the trust issues.”

He gives a sheepish little grin. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, like he’s a call center employee placating an angry customer. “I got promoted at work.”

You could punch him. You would, if you weren’t at a wedding. Luckily all murderous intent is redirected by a very timely Soonyoung, who arrives on the scene with a confident, “hey, baby!” and a hand outstretched with a glass of water.

“Oh, you came with someone?” your ex says. He sizes up Soonyoung, who is easily bigger than him, and shrugs. “Bad luck. Maybe next time.”

“I was this close to ruining this wedding,” you confess as Soonyoung wraps a protective arm around your waist, watching your ex saunter away. “He started talking about his promotion.”

“Didn’t he cheat on you?” Soonyoung asks, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah,” you confirm, scowling.

“Well, drink your water, and then we can dance again. You’ll forget all about him.”

This turns out to be true. Dancing with Soonyoung is so much fun -- he seems unusually good at it, and leads you very well, but also doesn’t take things too seriously, letting you spin him or even pretending to do a dip in which he almost falls over. The whole thing is just so ridiculous that you find yourself giggling through it, needing to pause and take a break. Soonyoung suggests that the two of you take a walk down to the lake, and you readily agree. 

He holds your hand during the walk, and you can feel yourself trying to explain away his behavior -- he’s probably just trying to scare off your ex, or any of the other bridesmaids who’ve been making eyes at him all evening (which you’ve been pretending not to notice or care, but which you most definitely have noticed and are not happy about). Or maybe he just wants some affection. Or maybe it’s something else. It certainly can’t be the simplest explanation -- that Soonyoung likes you in the same way you like him. 

The banks of the water are muddy and slick, and you and Soonyoung have to cling to each other for balance, but you’re still giggling like children as you kick off your shoes and let your toes sink into the murky shallows of the pond. “It’s freezing,” you say, hopping out almost immediately and colliding with Soonyoung, who automatically throws his arms out to steady you. Your laughter fades as you look into his eyes, which are wide and uncharacteristically shy and nervous. He swallows. Hard.

“Uh....” he says, stammering. “You’re -- you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you say in a tense whisper.

“I think I -- I think I like you,” Soonyoung whispers back.

“You think?” you ask, smiling a little.

“No, that was ridiculous,” he corrects. “Uh, I like you. For suresies. For realsies.”

“For suresies and for realsies?” you say with wide eyes, and he cringes.

“Throw me a bone, please,” he whines. “I’m nervous.”

And he is. You can tell that this normally confident boy is all but in pieces after making his confession. So you untangle yourself from Soonyoung’s grasp and turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking at him. “So am I,” you admit. 

And at this, Soonyoung beams. If you didn’t know better, you’d think that a smile that lights up a room was a bit of metaphorical nonsense that didn’t truly apply to anyone, but seeing this now, you figure that was an understatement in Soonyoung’s case. This kind of smile from him was enough to support intelligent light on several planets. And you? Just like a moon, you know you’ll be rotating around him your whole life, just reflecting that light. It is impossible to fully describe the way it warms you from the inside out.

You’re so distracted by Soonyoung himself that you don’t notice how he’s leaned in close until his lips brush yours. And, in fact, this move surprises you so much that you jump, startled, which sends you sliding into the mud, dirtying up your pale pink dress and causing an angry honk to emanate from the reeds where you land. Before you know it, a goose is hissing in your ear, and you shriek with terror as you scramble to your feet, running with all your might from the furious bird, who emerges from its marshy home to chase you up the hill toward the wedding party.

You never thought you’d need to answer the question, “Could I beat a goose in a fight?” And now, here you are, with a very clear answer indeed: absolutely not. The goose is fast, using a combination of an aggressive waddle, short bursts of low flight, and what is more than likely a higher-than-average dose of unfettered bloodlust to stay right on your heels all the way onto the dance floor, where wedding guests dive out of the way in cartoonish confusion. You don’t have time to think about how ridiculous you must look, covered in mud, running from a murderous goose, before Soonyoung firmly plants himself in front of the rampaging animal. 

And inexplicably, it stops, looking up at Soonyoung with its unsettlingly blue eyes. He stands with his hands on his hips and glares down at the goose. “You interrupted what was supposed to be a very romantic moment for me,” he scolds. “Now shoo!”

And you watch, dumbfounded, as the goose gives a plaintive squawk before toddling back to its pond. “How did you do that?” you gasp. 

It is only then that you realize the entire wedding is staring at you. And for good reason -- the bride and groom are about to cut the cake. The terror of being chased by Satan’s personal fowl pales in comparison to the sight of the bride. Her eyes are even more murderous than the bird’s had been -- and she’s holding a cake knife to boot. 

So, before any other awful things can happen, you grab Soonyoung’s hand and run. Out of the wedding area, off the farm, onto the dirt road where you parked your car, realizing too late you left your shoes by the pond and not daring to face the wedding party or the goose to retrieve them. By the time you arrive at your car, you’re laughing so hard you’re crying. Soonyoung, though bewildered, joins in, and the two of you double over, struggling to breathe with the absurdity of it all.

When you’ve both been reduced to gasps for air, Soonyoung turns to you, leaning back against your passenger side door for support. “Is every day of your life like this?” he asks through deep breaths.

“Why?” you ask, your face falling. “Are you getting tired of rescuing me?”

He chuckles. Unexpectedly, he pulls you toward him by the waist, seemingly unbothered by the mud. “Not at all,” he says, pulling a stray clump of weeds from your hair. “I’d rescue you every day if you asked. I just need to know how much prep work I need to be doing. I mean, do I need to start a new workout routine? Do I need to learn karate geared toward beating up ducks?”

“That was a goose,” you correct. Then you register what he said. “You’d rescue me every day?”

He suddenly looks nervous again. “If you want,” he offers, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear.

But your answering smile is enough to tell him that’s exactly what you want. With a mite more confidence, he grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb and pulls your lips to his.

This kiss is much more substantial than the last. Soonyoung’s arms wrap around you, his hands resting on the small of your back, locking you into his grasp and making it difficult for you to pull away -- as if you would, because his kisses are sweeter than summer strawberries. As the warm winds begin to pick up speed, as your hair whips around you and your muddy dress is blown every which way, your heart seems to crystalize into calmness. Kissing Soonyoung feels like putting the last piece into a puzzle, like coming inside from a cold rain to a warm fire, like watching bees flit from flower to flower in a late spring sunset. It feels perfect. It feels right.

You could go on kissing Soonyoung forever, until the two of you became statues locked in an embrace, but eventually you do pull away. Soonyoung laughs at the deep, shaky breath you take, and so do you, bringing a hand to touch his pink cheek in wonder. “You’re so beautiful,” you tell him.

“Not as much as you,” he replies warmly. 

Then a thought strikes you. “Also, when were you going to tell me you have mind control over geese?”

He shrugs. “It wasn’t mind control. It was the eye of the tiger.” He brings his hand up in an imitation of a paw print, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Okay. If you’re a Disney Princess, you can just say that.”

“Okay. I’m a Disney Princess,” Soonyoung agrees. “Does that make you happy?”

“Only if I get to be the Disney Prince,” you mumble, nestling into his arms and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Deal,” he replies. You can hear the smile in his voice as he does.