#i COULD have made the dog a big guard dog tbh that would make more sense but i want more small dog rep in media!!!!

[toonfinatic]

The reason it takes 200 years for me to get my characters fully defined is because i get caught on irrelevant details.

I decided that one of my characters has a pet dog. Big mistake, i'm a dog nerd. Now, because this world the characters belong to doesn't have real life dog breeds, i'm MAKING UP NEW ONES and thinking which real breeds the fictional pet dog would most resemble. This has no actual input in the story itself.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

fill with fire, exhale desire, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: He smokes cigarettes. You hate it. You always have a lighter in your pocket. He is pissed off because it isn't for him, you say. So much is said, but the truth is in the silence.

wc: 26.7k; warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smoking cigarettes, negative attitudes about smoking, quitting smoking; mentions of misogyny in South Korea; slow burn; constant bickering, tbh; smut (fem reader, striptease (?), heavy making out, scratching, penetrative sex, he puts his hand over her mouth and she licks it, multiple orgasms, handjob, fingering); non-idol!AU - smoker, pining, bratty!JK x cold, independent, insomniac!reader; reader's POV

--

“Got a light?”

You reached in your pocket and pulled out the lighter that you always kept on you. It had a dragon insignia etched into the black metal. Heavy and substantial. Serious enough to bruise if thrown with enough force. You flicked it open with your thumb and raised it.

Jeon Jungkook leaned in, holding a cigarette between his lips expectantly.

You made your distaste evident in your expression.

He smirked.

You pressed the button and the orange flame shot up. Burning paper and tobacco. The end of the cigarette glowed red. You pulled your hand away, flicking your wrist to extinguish the flame. Slipped it back into your pocket and resumed not looking at him. You heard him inhale with a satisfied sigh before bleeding out smoke to the sky.

“You smoke too?”

“Fuck no,” you snapped. “I’m not disgusting.”

There was a sharp sucking sound of Jungkook’s incredulous annoyance. “Hm. Then the lighter’s just for me, huh?” His voice was throaty with nicotine. You hadn’t moved away yet. He nudged your shoulder with his knuckles. You didn’t react. “You like me that much?”

You could smell the fumes in the air even though he was attempting to be careful about it. That was the thing about smoke. It got everywhere. A gaseous parasite. You didn’t reply. Instead, you stuck your hands in your denim jacket pockets and acted as if he wasn’t there. Predictably, not a single person looked your way, even with your pleated blue plaid miniskirt was grazing the bottom of your ass and your black pleather corset showing off the ample curve of your breasts.

No one wanted to deal with the big tattooed guard dog smoking just behind you.

He was trying to stand close but not too close. You wondered if Jungkook was aware of how much subtilty he lacked. He likely had no clue. He called your name, casually, desperate for some sort of attention.

“Just say it.”

You turned your head maybe an iota of a degree in his direction, glaring at him from under your black baseball cap. Seething.

“The lighter is not for you, Jeon Jungkook.”

His lips twisted into a pout. He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair which definitely worked on other people. Just not you. He held the lit cigarette away from you, and so you spared him a little more of your gaze, pivoting your black boot to view him at an angle.

“You’re lying,” he asserted with false confidence. “You’ve always got it when I ask.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t mean that it’s for you. Could be for someone else.”

This revelation did not pacify him. The opposite, actually. His brows knitted together. The corner of your lips ticked upward. This pissed him off even more as you seemed to imply scenarios that he very much did not like. You were curious on what how he would approach it.

“Yeah, right. Sure.” He took a quick drag and blew it towards the sky. His dark eyes locked on you. He called your bluff. “You don’t like smoking. There’s no way you would hang out with anyone else who does. You already told me that’s the reason we’re not dating.” Uncertainty etched into his stern expression. “… Right?”

You tilted your head at him.

You watched your silence infuriate Jungkook. He puffed up his chest a little, which was admittedly impressive even in his oversized black t-shirt. He had big pectoral muscles. He had picked up working out to add an addiction in attempt to subtract one. He did smoke less in your presence. But not zero.

“Right?”

He was being very demanding and prissy right now.

You pursed your lips and sucked on the side of your teeth. Then you said, “Yup. That’s the only reason.”

Despair ghosted over his features. He glanced down at the cigarette in his hand. There was slightly more than three-fourths left. His eyes went from you to the concrete sidewalk and then back again. You frowned.

“Don’t even think about littering,” you warned.

He clicked his tongue and flicked ash behind him. “So? Who is it?”

“Who is who?” You taunted back in the same irked tone, minus the underlying insecurity.

“The other person you’re cheating on me with,” Jungkook snapped.

You weren’t bothered by his fury. “I’m not cheating on you if you’re not my boyfriend to begin with.”

He shot you a look that could have scalded most. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours.”

“Tch, then be my girlfriend and take them from me.”

“Not how this works,” you countered, shifting your stance away from him. Slight panic flashed over his features. You ignored it. “My bus is coming soon.”

“Ugh,” he tutted. “I hate that you go to concerts alone.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t spend your money on smokes, you could join me.”

“I asked,” he growled. “I have the money. You said no.”

You sent him a soulless smile. “Because you smoke.”

Jungkook looked ready to put out the cigarette on his own arm. But you were already backing away. He half-followed, still talking.

“You’re going dressed like that? You’re going to get groped.”

You did your best to not call him stupid. You settled for an eye-roll. “Why do you think I stuck around after you asked for a light?” You stopped. So did he, avoiding closeness. He looked confused. “Men stay away from me when they smell smoke on my clothes. Either I smoke or I’ve got a boyfriend who does. Either way, not attractive.”

He flinched at your double-edged comment. Then, with a measured amount of bravery, Jungkook took a step forward and tapped your chest with his hand that held the cigarette. You made a displeased face. A tendril of smoke drifted upwards for the suspended second that he held his fingertips to your skin. You narrowed your eyes at him. He backed up, lifting both hands up in defeat. He licked his lower lip, looking down at you.

“If the lighter’s not for me, then what’s it for?”

There was a metal screech of heavy brakes behind you, closer to the street.

You glared up at him, wishing he picked better addictions.

Only time could tell.

“Arson,” you replied, and turned around to step onto the bus, leaving Jungkook alone once again. He would tire of it soon enough.

-

You scowled.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

The crowd was parting as you were heading to the train station. Just before you were meant to enter, a man approached you with a plastic bag and a bottle of water. He looked almost as aggravated as you felt. His hands were occupied so for once he couldn’t ask for a light.

“Is that any way to greet someone waiting for you?” Jeon Jungkook growled.

You were far from impressed. “Did I ask you to wait for me?” You answered yourself. “No, I didn’t. So, you’re the stalker here.”

His dark eyes shifted over the passerby you had no interest in. He looked back at you with a peeved expression. “Better me than an actual creep.”

“Spoiler alert: you are an actual creep.”

You kept your distance, wary, and made to walk around him. Something flashed in his gaze but he shut his eyes and sucked in the side of his cheek with a sharp sound. His body turned, semi-following you. You noticed he was wearing a black leather jacket, a different cream shirt, and dark olive cargo pants. Same black sneakers from earlier though. His black hair seemed faintly damp. He must have taken a shower. Perhaps he went to work out while you were gone for hours.

“At least take the water and food,” Jungkook scoffed, holding out the items. “You’re probably dehydrated and hungry. Don’t your feet hurt from standing so long?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing.”

You stopped and stared him down. He rolled his eyes. He seemed hurt. It didn’t matter if he was avoiding your gaze; you could tell. There was no reason to soften your tone, but at the very least you reached out and took the water bottle from him. The condensation felt nice on your palm already. You unscrewed the cap with a cold expression and heard the plastic crack. He hadn’t tempered with it, at least. A part of you felt bad for assuming the worst, but, then again, this was South Korea. You took a sip and pointed with the cap to the plastic bag.

“What food?”

Jungkook started, diverting his peek at your reaction in hopes you didn’t notice. You had. “Pan-fried tteokbokki,” he mumbled.

One of your favorites. At least he used his ears sometimes. “You really balled out, huh. How much I owe you?”

He took offense. “You think I don’t make enough money to treat you?”

“What do you need to treat me for?”

“Aren’t we friends?” Jungkook shot back.

You were mid-sip when the damage was already done. You saw him freeze up and then quickly look away. People walking past were giving you both weird looks, splitting around the two of you as a river does to a pesky rock stuck in the middle. You lowered the water bottle. He shoved his free hand into his front pant pocket. His knuckles indented the fabric. You looked from them, to back up to his face. His brows were knitted together and he appeared to be biting back an insult.

Or something else.

You reached for the bag.

Hooked your fingers around the handles. He didn’t let go. Nor acknowledge you. You tugged lightly. He remained an immovable statue. You took a step forward and pulled up, turning your face away from his chest in the process.

Jungkook whipped his head back and glared down at you.

His grip tightened. You pressed your lips together as the side of your fingers touched the side of his. He smelled fresh. He had definitely showered. The stale scent of his cigarette from earlier still lingered on your denim jacket. You shifted your eyes and made eye contact. Close. Not touching, though. Just enough for a misunderstanding that wasn’t going to happen because both of you were crystal clear on your stances.

He let go of the bag.

The weight fell onto your fingers.

He was searching for the words but you interrupted his thoughts.

“You gonna make sure I get home safe?” you asked.

He looked away. “Don’t be stupid.” Tightened his jaw. “What kind of man would I be if I just let you wander around at night by yourself?”

You watched his profile. He didn’t turn back. You stepped back. His eyes followed, as unnoticeable as he believed, and you let him have that, choosing instead to start walking.

“Might as well eat while it’s warm. I could sit down for a bit.”

You didn’t look back to see if he was after you. You heard him bite back his reply and swiftly pivot, and then it was both you against the night of blaring headlights and a dissipating crowd, feeling two kinds of alone despite all the people around. You ended up at the underground food court. Probably where he purchased the tteokbokki to begin with. Found a table and unwrapped the container. A paper-sleeved wooden skewer was tucked against the lid.

Jungkook threw himself into the seat across from you and pulled out his phone, beginning his doomscrolling.

It was still warm. Lightly spicy. Probably a bit too heavy for late night but that was why it tasted better than usual. You caught his darting glimpse as you ate. Raised an eyebrow. He pretended not to notice. Or was it that he pretended not to care? You raised the skewer and tilted it towards him. He continued to ignore you even though his body was halfway turning.

“Want one?”

“I’m fine,” he instantly answered. Almost smugly.

You knew what he was doing. Still, you acted as if you didn’t. “I can’t eat it all anyway. Don’t waste.”

Those dark brown orbs shifted back. His eyebrows furrowed. He did his best to sound annoyed. “You don’t eat enough.”

“Even if I didn’t, I should eat something healthier,” you pointed out, keeping your face neutral.

He reached for the skewer and you pierced one of the rice cakes instead. Soaking it in the sauce and holding it out. Jungkook locked eyes with you. You slid the container closer so he could lean over it.

He took the skewer from your fingers and fed himself.

All while staring at you.

The eye contact was broken by his eyes closing. Enjoying the food. Crispy, warm, spicy. Chewy on the inside, in that satisfying way that one could enjoy the seeping heat all over the tongue. He stabbed another and ate that too, without asking. You hadn’t expected him to. You hadn’t expected him to do any of this, actually. You drank another sip of water.

“I’ll take the train home.”

“I don’t think so,” Jungkook grumbled with full cheeks, sliding the container back to you and shoving the wooden skewer in your hand. His brief touch lingered. You searched for his expression but he covered the lower half of his face with his other hand, keeping his eyes shut and chewing as he spoke. “I came on my bike. I’ll drop you off at your place.”

Now that was sounding a little too familiar. “I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve done it before.”

He cracked open an eye and you could tell he was frowning even though his hair had fallen over his temples. “Just because you’ve done it before doesn’t mean it’s smart or safe.”

He underestimated your resting psycho bitch face. You speared two pieces of tteokbokki and crammed them in your mouth. Chewed with irritation. You swallowed. “No one is out to get me.”

Those three-quarter moons remained unconvinced. “That you know of.”

You raised your eyebrows and moved to continue eating. “You watch too much true crime.”

“You don’t watch enough. You are the one that should be cautious,” Jungkook retorted.

“I am cautious.” You glanced at him above pan-fried rice cake. “But you can’t live always being afraid of possible horrors. If I did that, well, I would sleep even worse than I already do.”

You ate.

Jungkook lowered his eyes and went pensively silent.

There wasn’t anything to say. You cleaned up. Threw away the remains appropriately. Began to walk with him subtly leading the way. The night felt darker. Quieter. The concert crowd was gone and now the streets were full of night owls on their own lonely missions. You pretended passersby parted to let you and him through. The more likely answer was avoidance though. There wasn’t anything that friendly about Jungkook’s rigid presence and your inherently cold one.

In a parking lot now.

His black and chrome motorcycle was parked. A beast in its own right. Lately, you had been thinking of his addictions. Tattoos. Motorcycles. Cigarettes. Chasing after the un-chasable. Was he simply a thrill seeker or was he attempting to break an internal perfection that he had been living by for far too long? Or just doing anything that came to mind to try and feel something? You stopped walking when he did. He did his thing. And then Jungkook held out a lump of black fabric to you.

You raised your eyebrows.

He half-shrugged. “You can’t get on the bike in that skirt.”

He was right. You didn’t want him to be right. You took the lump that turned out to be a pair of his sweatpants. The Nike ones he usually wore to work out. You made a face. He rolled his eyes as he produced the helmet.

“They’re clean,” he huffed. “I ain’t nasty.”

You had quite a few comebacks for that but you kept your mouth shut. You wondered if he noticed how he slipped out of his practiced Seoul dialect for half a sentence. You noticed. You averted your eyes. It was late. The adrenaline was wearing off to soreness. You could only give about a rat’s ass of a fuck right now. Fuck it. You started bending down.

“Woah!”

All of a sudden you felt a strong grip on your forearm, pulling you back up and dragging you forward, sandwiching you in between the large motorcycle and Jungkook’s scowl, quickly letting go once you glared. You narrowed your eyes. He gave you a disapproving frown.

“I’m wearing shorts under this,” you hissed under his chin.

“Booty shorts, maybe,” he snapped back. “Also, shorts or not, they don’t hide your shape. Idiot.”

He was wrong. You were wearing black boyshort-style panties. Semantics. Instead of bending down, you raised one leg to lower the inner zipper of your boots. Immediately, Jungkook caught your shoulder, steadying you. You didn’t thank him. You glowered. He glowered back as you undid the other one. You stomped down and bunched up the legs of the sweatpants, first sticking in one foot and then the other, doing a little dance in and out of your boots, before forcefully yanking them up your legs. He didn’t let you fall, but he also didn’t look either, swiftly turning his head to stare out into the street. There was a brief moment where you had to decide to tuck in your skirt or let it flare out over the top of the pants. You opted for the latter, straightening and smoothing out the pleats over the crotch of his borrowed sweatpants.

He glanced back and frowned.

You noticed. “What?”

His eyes drifted up. Brow knitted together. He let go of your shoulder. “Not fair that you look cute,” he muttered.

“I look dumb as hell.” You bent over and rezipped your boots, adding under your breath, “But it’s better than nothing. I guess.” You stood up again.

There was a shifty, expectant silence.

You wanted to go home and sleep. At the same time, you wanted to be awake. Jungkook hesitated for a moment and then handed you the helmet in his hands before circling around you to grab the other one he had stored, leaving you to figure that shit out on your own. He avoided your gaze as surely as you did his. The whole scene looked less weird that it felt. You heard the engine purr to life. He said something and you ignored him, buttoning up your jacket so your valuables wouldn’t fall out. Not your best look, however, you had not planned any of this in any capacity.

Jungkook was already seated, his long legs extended to the asphalt to steady himself.

“So, you–”

You placed your hand on his bicep and stepped onto the footpeg, nimbly swinging your leg over to balance behind him. Underneath your hand, you felt him stiffen as you settled, sliding your other arm around his back and temporarily landing on his hip before you removed the hand on his upper arm to grip his waist.

“O… Oh.”

He cleared his throat.

“I’m good,” you confirmed even though he hadn’t asked.

He felt warm and solid and you did your best to ignore it.

“R-Right.” A pause before he said, “Hold on, alright?”

You squeezed his waist.

“Mhm.”

Jungkook took you home.

-

“I’ll get the pants back later,” he said as you handed him the helmet back. “Go on up.”

You observed him. Jungkook did his best to be calm and not jittery. He gave you a strange look, realizing that you were analyzing him. He had killed the engine so he didn’t have to shout. He cradled the helmet you had borrowed with one hand, the other on the handle of his motorcycle for a moment before using it to raise the visor to uncover his dark eyes.

You paused.

Then, you unbuttoned your denim jacket, reaching into the inner pocket for your lighter.

You held it out to Jungkook.

He glanced at it, and then at you.

You ticked your head. “You’ll need a light again. Inevitably. Take it.”

His gaze sharpened. He looked away quickly, and you could tell by the contortion of his features that he was shoving his tongue into his cheek, letting out an annoyed huff. Then, he shook his head, as if your audacity was something to behold. Jungkook then transferred the helmet to the crook of his arm and shoved his dominant, tattooed hand into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, ripping out a slightly crumpled cigarette box with one corner torn open.

He slapped it over your dragon lighter.

“Shit.”

You stared at your palm. And then at him. Jungkook glared back, exhaling hard.

“Take ‘em,” he mumbled. His Busan dialect was even more obvious now. His voice was gruff and his manner blunted. “Just fuckin’ take them.”

“I don’t want these,” you retorted.

“Yeah?” His eyes narrowed to daggers. “Neither should I.” His eyes shifted down and then back up. “Inevitably. You’re so fucking full of it.”

You almost flung both objects at his face. Almost. Yet something made you reconsider. Something about Jungkook’s demeanor shifted. He tried to keep his tone sharp but it was dulled by his body language. He cocked his chin in the most falsely cocky way.

“You think I’m gonna want ‘em?”

Your gazes locked.

“Then I’ll have to come to you to get ‘em.”

You pursed your lips. “I’m going to throw them away.”

He dared you. “Do it.”

“You’ll waste your money and time.”

“And I’ll be reminded you’ll never let me live it down,” Jungkook growled. “I’ll think twice before putting myself through that fire.”

Silence.

Eye to eye.

You held his stare.

Then, you lowered your hand, clutching his cigarettes and your lighter, backing away, and quickly spinning on your heel, striding into your apartment building. You punched in the code. Behind you, you heard the swift kick of an engine roar and then a fading zip away as you yanked open the glass door. You didn’t look back. You pocketed Jeon Jungkook’s cigarettes.

-

Nights later, you sat on the floor next to your bed, flicking your lighter on and off to kill the flame and revive it. Over. And over. You stared at the tiny orange burst. Then extinguished it. Then ignited it again. Such a small light. So fragile and yet so capable of burning this entire apartment down. You breathed out. Fixated on the dancing flame. Time passed.

You sat in silence.

You snapped the lid closed, snuffing it out.

The room was semi-dark. Your bedside table lamp was the only light on. The curtains were open, giving you a view of the city skyline etched into the black sky. The area was actually pretty quiet. You got lucky with a neighborhood full of older folks who mostly minded their own damn business. The apartments were older in a homely sort of way. The most telling trait of the apartment complex was the general unease in the air. Probably because some of the older folks had died in their apartments before. People could be superstitious like that. Maybe you were too. You just didn’t see it as a negative.

Which said a lot about you.

You looked up to your nightstand. Next to the dingy chrome base of your lamp was an open pack of cigarettes. The box was missing maybe three or four of them, you guessed. You hadn’t torn it open to confirm.

Behind your head, your phone began to vibrate.

You lifted your hand and placed your lighter on the nightstand. The lines of the dragon engraving caught the low light, casting shadows over it. Your hand pivoted and you felt around the bed. Found the smoothness of the screen and pulled your phone to you, lowering it to your lap before looking at the caller ID. You frowned slightly once you noticed the time. That late, huh? And this person almost never called or texted. Well. At least not to you.

You accepted the call and brought it to your ear out of habit.

“Ya. You,” mumbled the slurred, distorted voice of Jeon Jungkook.

You responded just as politely. “What?”

He let out a huff. There was a fair bit of rustling and maybe the sound of glass on table. “I want you to know something.” You didn’t reply to that. It wasn’t a question. He paused anyway. Maybe expecting you to reprimand him. You stayed silent. “Ah, fuck.” He exhaled hard into the microphone. You held your phone slightly away from your ear even though you couldn’t smell the alcohol on his breath. “Look. I’m not drinking because I need a smoke.” You doubted it. “I just felt like drinking. It’s Friday.” He wasn’t wrong. “I… I get it, okay? I get why you don’t like it. Makes sense and all. I…” He trailed off again, struggling to find the words. “But I’m not like you. I’m not. I don’t have my shit together.”

“I don’t have my shit together,” you interjected. Should be obvious from you answering his call perfectly awake at three in the morning. He didn’t seem to be thinking rationally at the moment though. If he ever did.

“Fuck off.” He lost control of his Seoul dialect. Kept going back and forth between upstanding citizen and gruff Busan satoori. You wondered if he was aware. Probably not. “You have it way more together than me. I’m fuckin’ trying. Ugh.” His tone tightened. “It’s not… It’s not how you think it is. It’s not.”

You weren’t sure you thought it was anything but you let him talk. Nothing else to do, after all.

“I have great parents, you know.” He sighed. Despondently annoyed. “They’re awesome. I wanted to be a good son. That’s… I mean, doesn’t everybody? I listened to them. I listened to be teachers. I listened to my classmates. I wanted to be a good person, so I did everything asked of me from others.” His voice deepened to a soft growl.

“But… People take. I didn’t even realize it.”

You realized that Jungkook sounded sad.

“They take when they know you give. And I gave, because my parents taught me to be a good person and I didn’t want to disappoint them by people calling me heartless or cruel. But…” Mumbled something you didn’t catch. Cleared his throat. “It was becoming too much. I got fed up. I had to start saying no. But not before I had already said yes to a lot of stuff that I shouldn’t have said yes to. I had already developed bad habits by then.”

A few seconds of silence.

You broke it. “You’re too easily influenced,” you accused.

“Yeah, fuck me,” Jungkook grumbled. “Fuck me for not knowing that there are people are out there don’t have my best interests at heart and want to see me fucked up because they feel some type of way. My bad.”

You figured that was common sense. But maybe not. Maybe not, considering the way he talked about his parents. You pushed back your own personal biases despite their intrusive nature.

“Is your family disappointed in you?” you quietly asked.

“Me?” He let out a humorless laugh. “No. No, they’re supportive. Even if they don’t like my tattoos or the piercings or whatever, no one has ever made me feel shit about it. Everyone is positive. Even began to like those things about me when most elders would lose their shit.” He sighed. “But… I still didn’t quit the cigarettes. Just didn’t smoke around them, because I didn’t want to see my mom sad. But still. I didn’t even want to try to quit.”

A moment of reluctance.

“Until… Until I met you,” sighed Jungkook, his deep voice heavy.

Was that supposed to be flattering? You didn’t have time to ponder it.

“Hmph… I’m so envious of you.” A light thud. More rustling. He sounded a little muffled and a lot out of it. “You’re never ruffled. No matter what anyone says or does, you’re always yourself. You don’t relent even when I act like a prick. It’s so… Hah. I can’t do that.” He sounded defeated. “I try to not care too. I’m trying. I’m trying so fucking hard. The second I think I’ve got it, yes, this is me, I remember it’s not. It’s not. I just copied someone else I saw that I thought… Copying you… You’re right. Lots of people told me to quit. Or keep going, it’s not that bad. They can all fuck right off, until…”

A weak shuffle and then you could barely hear the whisper in between the phone lines. His face was seemingly buried into something. He sounded both far away and so very close at once.

“What am I doing…? It doesn’t… Doesn’t make sense.”

You almost said something. It wasn’t the right time. You shifted your position on the floor, leaning back against the bed. He must have heard that you were still on the other side of the line. He dragged more strength into his voice. As much as he could muster, anyway.

“How…” He shuddered. Whispered your name under his breath in the same way sailors called to stars to navigate the sea on a cold night. “You told me I should quit and… Yeah. I know you’re right. I know. I… The other night…”

The night you attempted to give him your lighter to keep.

Jungkook sniffed. “You can’t… Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter how you do it,” he mumbled. “You do. You just do. And so do I. I gotta just do.”

You finally spoke.

“Yes,” you sighed. “That’s the truth.”

Cradled the phone, leaning it against your temple.

“The world doesn’t care.” He sounded resigned but no longer on the edge. “Everyone just does what they wanna do.”

A long pause. For some reason, you had the impression that both of you were curled up somewhere at home suddenly feeling not at home. Maybe it was the time of the night. Or the alcohol on his end. Or the insomnia on your end. The long seconds marched on. Then, Jungkook asked you a question with a statement.

“I wish I knew what… What I wanna do.”

Silence.

You half-smiled knowing he couldn’t see it. Preferred, actually, that he didn’t. “Gonna be honest,” you chuckled. “I don’t know what I want to do. I follow my instincts and accept wherever I end up.”

He snorted. Haughtily. It was meant to dent to your demeanor and it was about as effective as a puff of popcorn. “Of course. Hah.” Exhaled hard, taking the fight out of himself. “You really… You really don’t know…?”

You debated what you did and didn’t know. “About what?”

An irritated huff. Something about your tone seemingly made him hesitate, though. He caught the gist of what was unsaid. Maybe it was because he was drunk. Sober Jungkook could never.

“If.” Just that. If. “Ah…”

He breathed out your name. It was very late. The darkness was at its peak. But Jeon Jungkook breathed your name with the capacity of a dreamer, half-conscious and losing fast.

“I won’t let it end like this.”

There were a few minutes of quiet.

You hung up before he could start snoring in your ear. A small part of you kind of wanted to hear it. But, instead, you hung up. Placed your phone on your lap. Stared straight ahead, to the windowsill and the peek of the city skyline against a black sky. You thought about his voice on the other end. Calling for you. You sat in silence. Night bled away. You wanted to reach for the lighter again. Your instincts told you not to.

So, you hoisted yourself up and crawled under your covers, giving in to exhaustion’s embrace.

-

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook was an evening at a convenience store. It was a coincidence. Or perhaps one of fate’s great jokes. You spied him the second you walked into the small establishment. He was talking to a tall man with a sun-kissed tan and longish black hair in soft curls. They obviously knew each other. Jungkook’s laugh was his typical bright guffaw that he tried to stifle to not be a public disturbance.

For a second, you almost forgot that call from a few nights ago.

You looked away, heading to the other side of the store.

Before you did, though, he had glanced in your direction and done a double-take. You moved into an aisle, out of sight, heading to the back, changing your original intent for being here. This particular convenience store was family-owned. It had a small section where the owner’s wife prepared fresh gimbap daily. You wondered how many people knew about this, because it was always stocked. Maybe they preferred to buy from bigger stores, not trusting a small business. You grabbed a tray of heftily-filled tuna gimbap before heading to the fridge section for drinks.

Jungkook was standing there.

You pulled back into the aisle.

His back had been to you, so he didn’t have the chance to notice. Half-in the fridge, picking something out among the electrolyte replenishers and flavored waters. He carried a black backpack that seemed heavy with things. Workout stuff, you assumed. His companion earlier had a towel around his shoulders and had worn a red tank top with exaggerated armholes, revealing a built chest and defined arms. Jungkook’s black hair looked slightly damp, possibly sweaty, pushed back and away from his forehead. He was wearing an open navy hoodie, white tank top, gray sweatpants, and white sneakers. It was safe to assume the backpack had workout shit in it. You wondered where the other guy was. He had been very tall. Easy to spot over the tops of the aisles, but he seemed to no longer be in the store. He must have left, then. No one to distract Jungkook any longer. Hm. You still wanted a drink, but.

Not that badly.

You zipped your black hoodie over your exposed stomach once you noticed the cashier was the elderly woman. You probably would have zipped it no matter who it was. The older generation just tended to be less subtle about their judgements. You approached the register and she smiled, greeting you. You slid the tuna gimbap over to her.

He was behind you.

You glanced at the glass behind the cashier. The cabinet held various brands of cigarettes. It was very well-polished, and you could see Jungkook behind you, sternly staring at the back of your head. You turned around.

He shot you a questioning look, furrowing his eyebrows.

“The total is–”

In his hands was a big bottle. Some kind of sports drink. You took it from him, and put it next to your tuna gimbap. The old woman didn’t quite register the speed of your action, blinking several times.

“Sorry,” you said. “Could you please add this too? Thank you.”

Clearly, she could only focus at one thing at a time. She did not realize you had snatched the drink from the man behind you, which would immediately raise eyebrows. Instead, the older woman was preoccupied with searching for the barcode, turning the bottle this way and that, poking the scanner against it.

Adding it to your receipt.

You felt a hand on your shoulder.

You pulled out your card as the cashier stated your new total. Tapped it as Jungkook hissed your name under his breath, but you ignored him, accepting the purchase as the cashier carefully packed up your meal and someone else’s drink in the same small clear plastic bag. She smiled her customer service smile and then noticed the disheveled punk behind you with a slight widening of her eyes.

You thanked her again and wished her a nice day before gripping his hoodie sleeve and dragging him with you.

Immediately let go when you exited the establishment, finally paying heed to the muttering of curses behind you. You reached into the thin plastic bag and pulled out his drink, pivoting slightly to give it to him. Jungkook snatched it from your hand, scowling.

“I don’t need your fuckin’ charity,” he snapped.

You wondered if he even remembered his drunken laments. “It’s not charity.” You affixed an impassive expression. “Not for you, anyway. Just making it easier for the cashier.” You began to take a few steps in the direction you needed to go.

He scoffed, “What are you doing, anyway?” and cocked his chin at you. “Stalking me now?”

You wondered if he was wishing for that. “I’m retrieving dinner like everybody else at this hour. ‘Cept you, I guess,” you added, unzipping your hoodie again even though the sun was dropping fast.

“What the–”

And Jungkook quickly jogged up beside you, shielding your body with his.

“The hell you doing?”

You glared but didn’t stop walking. “What?” Impolitely.

He pointed to your sports bra with a flick of his wrist. “Uh, you can’t leave the house like that.”

“I already have,” you pointed out. His eyes were glued to your sports bra and the low-waisted black Nike sweatpants clinging to your hips.

“And you think nothing is going to happen to you?” Jungkook indignantly shot back, blocking your way and darting his gaze around as if offenders were already on the horizon.

“Whether it does or not has no bearing on what I’m wearing,” you dryly replied. He was repeating a tale as old as time. Not that that made it any less real. It was all heard before, though. “You act like I haven’t lived for decades knowing the horrors of the world.”

His expression changed. Still frustrated. Slightly put off by your wording. And, sadly, comprehension. “That’s not what I mean.”

“That’s what you’re coming off as.”

“Not my intention,” he grumbled.

“Intentions don’t mean much in the face of what actually happens,” you said, glancing at him.

He shut up.

You almost regretted spilling your honesty.

“Sorry,” he said softly.

He seemed beaten down by your response. Eventually he shook his head and ran his free hand through his windswept black hair, trying to sneak a glimpse at your face. You were already staring at him. That threw him off. He looked away, flustered.

“Can I at least accompany you back?” he offered. Awkwardly.

You ticked your head. You knew that his gym was near that convenience store. “Don’t you live around here?” He had mentioned it, once. “I need to take the bus.” Earlier, you were aware that there was definitely a chance for you would run into him once you chose your destination. But it was the closest spot to buy liquor, and you hadn’t felt like traveling further. Then the original plan changed once you encountered Jungkook. Remembering all that made you pause. You diverted your gaze, adding, “Forget it. Go home.”

Monotone.

Your dismissal clearly annoyed him. He let out an exaggerated exhale and blocked you again when you tried to walk around him. You narrowed your eyes but didn’t raise your head. His tank top was tight, revealing the contours of his muscle. The shoulder of his hoodie had slid down, exposing part of his tattoo sleeve. Dark rings of petals in a hypnotizing mandala. The artist was talented enough to make you pause to admire. Then you swiftly looked away, anywhere else, shifting to his jaw. He stuck his tongue in his cheek and steeled himself.

“Fine.” He came to a conclusion, apparently. “I need a smoke.”

A ripple of aggravation shot through your temple. You turned your stare to fixate on Jungkook. He glared back, twice as stubborn.

“You serious?” you snarled. “Go back to the store then and buy some yourself.”

He rolled his eyes. “The fuck is the point of giving them to you, then?”

You jerked back, disgusted. “I didn’t fucking want them, asshole.”

“Yeah, well,” he pressed, becoming more resolute by the second. “That was the deal.”

You planted a palm on his chest and shoved him out of your way. Unbelievable. “There was no fucking deal,” you retorted, walking fast. He kept up because he was an annoying prick. You glowered, bristling at his presence. “What? You think you can do whatever you want, Jeon Jungkook?” The audacity of this bitch. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ give them to you anyway. So, promptly, fuck off.”

His fingertips touched your shoulder.

You yanked your body back as if scalded.

“Don’t touch me.”

He pulled his hand out of the air but didn’t back down. Those dark brown eyes narrowed. His lips thinned. Anger clouded his features. And. You felt your icy composure become brittle when you observed the distressed sadness poorly hidden underneath said anger.

A tense stillness.

“They’ll kill you,” you steely stated.

His gaze shifted. Contorted. The expression of all too well.

“Yeah.” He exhaled hard. “That’s the truth.”

Then his eyes drifted back to you.

All the fight in the air drained out. Neither of you dared to speak. There were volumes written within this shared quiet. Strangers walked past, sending you both strange looks. You and him were too busy being struck in three-in-the-morning thoughts shared during an impromptu phone call. You looked away. So did he. There was a loud screech of metal and heavy tires on asphalt. You didn’t say anything. You only had time for an instinctive decision.

You tapped Jungkook’s forearm and waved, quickly running to catch up with the bus.

Less than a minute later, him and you stiffly sat next to each other on worn seats, trying your best not to glance at one another or make eye contact with anyone else. It was mostly successful, other than a strong-smelling middle-aged man that was eyeing everybody a little too closely. He settled on you for an unknown but undoubtably nefarious reason. Jungkook shoved you against the side of the bus and firmly put his backpack in his lap, blocking the view of your torso from the stranger’s perspective. Either the random man noticed the silent hostility or lacked object permeance when drunk. He changed course.

Both of you relaxed slightly.

You zipped up your hoodie anyway. Couldn’t hurt. You lifted your head. By mistake, your eyes locked with Jungkook’s. He looked like he wanted to say something but he stayed mute for now. It was a quiet bus ride, leaving both of you in roads of thought neither of you wanted to be in.

-

“You can go home now.”

Jungkook reminded you. “I need a smoke, remember?”

You held your apartment keys and frowned at him. He gave you a casual shrug you didn’t trust. He held onto his backpack and the drink you had bought him, now half-empty. You turned away, licking the side of your teeth. Glanced from all the closed doors around you. You couldn’t shake the tension at your shoulders. Passed by his face. There was something in his expression. You let out an exhale through your nose and shoved your key into the lock, harshly twisting it.

“Fine. Go look for them,” you invited not-so-invitingly.

The door was old and jammed in the frame. You shoved it, hard, and it swung open with almost too much force. You grabbed the knob before it could hit the wall in a practiced motion, crossing the threshold to remove your shoes and scoot them by the wall. He followed, somewhat startled by your daily habits. You ignored him. Instead, you headed for the tiny kitchen with your tuna gimbap, intending to devour it as Jungkook did his search. Chopsticks from the drawer. Taking out the tray of food and placing it on the counter while you balled up the plastic bag to put it in the correct recycling bin. Yanked off the lid and picked up the end piece to eat.

You chewed.

It was fresh. Pretty good.

Without turning around, you removed your hoodie and threw it to the side. It shot to the back of the sofa and clumped. You kept eating. You had already heard Jungkook lock the door, remove his shoes, and dump his backpack on the hardwood floor with a thump. The cigarettes were exactly where you left them. Next to your bedside table lamp with your lighter leaning against them. You ate another piece, staring at the bottom of your gray-stained cabinets, and only now realizing how hungry you were. Huh.

It was eerily quiet.

Weird.

You chewed on your third piece and twisted your body to find Jungkook still standing by the door, staring at your living room with wide eyes. The apartment was quite small. Maybe a little bit crammed. The living room had a black fabric sofa, a dark-stained coffee table that had seen too many late-night dinners, and the TV on a low storage unit.

And mirrors.

Mirrors all over the walls. Most of them were small. Some were vintage with aged metal frames or darkened bamboo frames. Some of them weren’t in the best shape, the reflective glass becoming patchy and spotted. Some were a little more than smoked glass. They were all from thrift stores or resell markets. There was no real rhyme or reason to their placement all over the living room other than chaotically aesthetic. The ones on the bookshelf unit by the window were all lined up. Unique pocket mirrors with various shapes. There were a few anime and cartoon character motifs sprinkled in.

“What the fuck…?”

He finally gave you a look slight frightened concern but mostly confusion.

You shrugged. Casually. “I like to collect mirrors.” You munched.

“No shit?” Jungkook still looked mildly appalled. He furrowed his brows to regain some sort of control over his face. “And you called me a creep.” Still, he shuffled further in, peering over them. “There’s so many of them… The fuck you need all this for?”

“Nothing.”

He shot you a look over his shoulder and quickly diverted his eyes once he noticed your exposed shoulders. “Nothing?” he echoed indignantly.

“There’s no real purpose,” you reaffirmed, grabbing another piece of gimbap with a click of your chopsticks. “Why does anyone have a collection?”

Jungkook snorted. “Collecting music albums or even plushies is less weird then…” He paused. Then angled his body slightly, as if to listen to what you had to say without directly viewing you. “Is there a reason you collect mirrors?”

You, too, stilled. Seeing the back of his head and his broad shoulders suddenly reminded you that this was the first time you had ever invited Jeon Jungkook into your space and rather impulsively at that. You faced the counter again. The gimbap was about three-fourths gone. It was probably a good idea to finish it all now. You chewed on your lower lip, debating on whether or not to tell him the reason.

“When I was young,” you said, directed to the unfinished gimbap. “I didn’t like looking at myself in mirrors. Guess I had some kind of complex about them.” You didn’t elaborate. You positioned your chopsticks over another piece of the roll but didn’t yet pick it up. “When I moved in here, I didn’t really care about decorating it either. Figured it didn’t matter. At some point, I got tired of the blank walls, so I went to a secondhand shop to find something to put on the wall, and I remembered I don’t like mirrors.”

Hated them, really.

“So, I brought one because I thought the design was cool. And kept buying them.”

You half-laughed, mirthlessly.

“I decided it’s stupid to hate something like that, anyway,” you muttered, and chomped down another piece. You should have gotten out the soy sauce. Hah. With self-exasperation, you opened a cabinet to take out the small glass dispenser. Poured a little on the edge of the tray to dip the last few pieces in.

“That’s cool.”

His voice seemed louder, somehow. “You called me a creep,” you hummed.

“I didn’t call you a creep,” Jungkook said behind you.

You turned around, bristling. He was distracted, looking around your relatively neat kitchen. Probably taking note that there were no mirrors here. You restricted your collection to the living room walls to prevent overbuying. His eyes stopped at the gimbap on the counter at waist height. His dark eyes raised. Tentative. Your pulse accelerated a bit. You kept your expression neutral, chewing slowly.

“Thought you needed a smoke?” you asked after swallowing. You waved your chopstick towards the bedroom. “Be my guest.”

The tips of his ears flushed pink. He was sort of looking at you but also not. You tried not to notice that his navy hoodie had fallen off his shoulder, revealing his defined, tattooed right arm all the way to his elbow. His hands were shoved into the side pockets of his sweatpants. He was in the middle of scrutinizing yours.

“Are those mine?” Jungkook asked, completely ignoring your question.

You flicked the side seam by your thigh. “I’ll wash them and give them back. Seemed pointless to wear them for only a short while and wash immediately.” You leaned against the counter. “I haven’t forgotten. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

His eyes shot up to your face at your comment. You shared a glare. Both of you held it more out of stubbornness than intimidation. For what reason, you weren’t sure. There were only parts of him you disliked. Not all of him. Well. Maybe if you and him dialed back the hostility, then.

Both of you broke eye contact at the same time.

“They… They look good on you.” It wasn’t said in a sarcastic way. The sincerity was somehow more alarming. “Keep them.”

“No thanks,” you retorted with more familiarity than you intended. “I don’t need your charity.” You shouldn’t have said that.

It didn’t end up mattering, though.

“Do you remember when I called you a couple nights ago?” Jungkook suddenly blurted, thrusting you both into whiplash of conversation topic change.

You froze.

There was no cue to tell you what was the right thing to say. It was best to glance at his expression to find out, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to. There was something about the distance of a phone call that made deep conversations easier. But you realized from his abruptness that he, too, must have been struggling to bring up the elephant in the room. Could have let it sleep, but this guy wouldn’t let it be.

Still, you understood him.

You pursed your lips and rubbed your collarbone with your free hand. “Only one of us was drunk and it wasn’t me,” you finally sighed. Raised your head.

His ears were very red now. You saw Jungkook battle between being a smartass and his natural self. You saw him wish he was a natural smartass. He cleared his throat, his chest tensing. “Uh… Sorry,” he mumbled. “Sorry about… Calling so late.” He cleared his throat again despite his discomfort being purely emotional. His eyes shifted. “I didn’t think you’d answer… But you did.” He chanced a glimpse at your reaction.

You shrugged.

Casually.

He nodded quickly even though you hadn’t said anything. “I don’t remember everything I said,” he rambled in a tone that clearly indicated he did. “So, don’t, uh, don’t take it too seriously.” He was taller than you but it didn’t feel like that right now.

You considered his words and quietly replied with, “Okay.”

His eyes drifted to the kitchen counter. Lingered on your waist, but not for long. He ticked his chin towards the leftovers. “Can I have a piece?”

Wordlessly, you held out the chopsticks so he had access to the other, unused end. He hesitated. Then pulled a hand from his pocket. You moved out of the way as he retrieved the chopsticks from your grip and took a step to be closer to the counter.

It was weird.

Standing in your small kitchen next to Jeon Jungkook eating your dinner leftovers.

Mostly it was weird because it didn’t make you highly uncomfortable or positively annoyed. It felt normal, which is what made it otherworldly odd. As if you were getting used to his presence beside you. You winced and tried not to make it obvious. You heard him try to say your name between bites.

“Chew your food,” you muttered, angling your face away but not your body. Couldn’t bring yourself to watch him eat. You heard the rattle of the plastic tray against the counter as he dipped in the soy sauce. Then you felt a nudge by your arm.

Before you could stop your natural reaction, you were face-to-face with Jungkook who was holding out the last piece to you with full cheeks and an expectant expression. You blinked at him. The blunt end of the chopsticks was used, but he was holding out the gimbap with the slender side. The end you had been eating with. The seaweed glistened with soy sauce. His free hand was under the chopsticks, cradling air in the dire last resort that it fell. He roughly swallowed, looking more annoyed with each passing second.

“Open up.”

“No,” you automatically replied.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

You made a face. “This is weird.”

He made a face back. Disturbing. “Shut up and open your mouth.”

“I wo–”

That was precisely the moment Jungkook shoved the chopsticks into your mouth. Instinctively, you lowered your jaw to catch it all, glaring at him. He scowled back, about to remove the chopsticks before you caught them in your teeth with your mouth full of tuna, vegetables, and rice. There was a brief, pointless tug of war before you pulled your head back rather than let him perform the action. Jungkook squinted at you, irritated, and you were just as perturbed, chewing decidedly before swallowing.

Sudden silence.

He lowered the chopsticks to balance them on the empty tray. You ran your tongue over your teeth to catch any rice stragglers. It became hard to maintain eye contact. Now he was facing the cabinets and you were facing the living room of mirrors. Minutes ticked by.

The quiet became violent.

You whipped your head to Jungkook. “So, what–”

He spoke at the same time. “You know I’m not joking, right?” he asked softly.

His profile was statuesque. Instantly recognizable. Imprinted in memory. And then his dark eyes shifted, his black hair framing his temples, and now Jungkook was searching for your eyes that remained on him. You shut your mouth. He realized he had interrupted you.

“What did you want to say?”

You faltered and then shook your head. “Not important.”

His brows furrowed. “Don’t–”

“Joking about what?” you interjected. “Don’t try to distract me.”

He was, rightfully, irate. “You–”

You wrapped an arm around your midsection, suddenly feeling cold. “Is this about you quitting smoking?”

Immediately he noticed. Your demeanor demanding him to answer was a little too intense to be ignored, though. “That’s…” He tutted, his voice deepening slightly. “I’ve already quit.” You raised an eyebrow. “What?” He was trying to unconvincingly convince you. It had barely been a couple weeks, anyway. ‘Ugh, okay, fine. Maybe I bummed a cig a couple of times. But only for a couple puffs. Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Jungkook snapped. “Like you don’t have any bad habits.”

“I have bad habits,” you answered coldly. “But I also deal with how I feel. Something you should get started on.”

He threw up his hands and began to back away from the counter, until.

“Is this how you want to spend your life?” you asked.

His back was to you now. Reluctance took over, rendering his movements as statuesque as he looked moments before. You stared at his back, wondering if you had gone too far. Wondering if these shared moments were all for naught. Not really in the very real chance that he could leave and never look back, but in the very real chance that he did and nothing changed for him. Or for you. In the chance that your interactions would ultimately mean nothing in this life when it was very clear that both of you wanted to mean something. Anything.

“I don’t.”

You looked up and Jungkook was looking back at you over his shoulder. He lowered his gaze when your eyes connected before half-turning to face you, halfway between running to and running from. You asked yourself, if it was anyone else, would you stay this silent? Before it registered, you reached out and tugged his hoodie sleeve.

After all, you did always have a light for him.

He raised his eyes.

“You’re trying. Aren’t you?” You gave him a dry smile before letting go.

His lashes lowered to waning half-moons. Then he ticked his head, asking, “Do you really hate it that much?” His eyes found yours. He already knew the answer and was asking it anyway.

You told him the truth. “Yeah.”

The corner of his lips flicked upwards wryly. “Damn. So honest.”

You almost laughed. “Well… You wouldn’t like me at all if you knew I was a liar.” Then your words caught up to you. “Not that you do,” you added after a beat.

“I do,” corrected Jungkook before looking away.

Maybe he was embarrassed by his admission. You, however, were preoccupied with other thoughts. The mirrors. Your insomnia. His tattoos. His cigarettes. Your coldness. His fire. The way you tended to lock down your deep emotions and the way his tended to spill out when they overflowed. You held the lighter. He longed to burn. You liked him. That thought lingered. You hated the smoking, true, not only because of all the obvious discomforts, but also because you had a feeling that he knew he could quit and only did it to further punish himself for things he didn’t do.

You just had a feeling since you, too, punished yourself for things you didn’t do.

You felt something soft brush against your shoulders.

His hoodie smelled like him, herbal and fresh with depth, with a vague hint of washed-out acid smoke. You glanced over. He looked apologetic, gesturing to your arm over your midsection. His built chest and sculpted shoulders were mildly distracting. His white tank top clung to his body, not leaving much to the imagination. You frowned. Jungkook saw your face and braced himself for a reprimanding.

You asked him a question you had been wondering for a while now.

“Did you plan this?”

That wasn’t what he expected. His features twisted into confusion. “Uh?” He seemed to forget his anxiousness for a moment. “Plan what?” The perfect deer-in-headlights look.

You angled your body to better face him and held the edge of the hoodie, narrowing your eyes. “You know what I mean,” you warned.

He sensed danger and held up his hands in defeat. “I don’t?”

Those big brown eyes begged you to believe him. Either he was stupid or a really good actor. You relaxed slightly. You weren’t banking on the latter and really hoped you were right. You grimaced, backing away. It wasn’t fair to let learned behavior judge him yet constant vigilance was also needed for survival. You sighed, stepping around him.

“Never mind. It’s late. Just sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“The fuck?” Jungkook followed, infuriated, much like the rest of the night. “I can’t do that.”

“The buses aren’t running this late,” you stated matter-of-factly. You waved him away, plopping onto your sofa with a tired exhale. “Or you can call a taxi, I guess. You want money for that?”

He smacked his hand down on the back of the sofa and scowled, bending down to intimidate you.

“I am not some kid!”

You looked up at him.

Jungkook froze, realizing the closeness.

He was naturally a very handsome man. You had always thought so. Never told him. He had probably heard it enough. He faltered, losing the fight but not yet letting go of the sofa. You observed the line of his jaw and thought about how hard he had to work to fulfill the image others had of him. How hard he worked to break that image, only to shoulder a different set of expectations, for only a certain level of coolness could combat the goodness he lost. If not one thing, then another. He must not have felt that he fit those ideals either. He couldn’t win.

You worried that he simply liked you in a vain attempt to feel some level of control.

Crestfallen, his eyes wandered, then realized he couldn’t because then he would be staring down your chest or at your thighs. He pretended that he wasn’t looking and raised his head, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“I feel like I don’t know you at all.”

It wasn’t so much accusatory as it was a revelation.

You lowered your gaze and realized you were staring at his chest or his crotch. That was out of the question. You almost wished he would sit down next to you, but he was right. There was a moment where you considered brushing him off as you did with everyone else. Your eyes connected. As you stared into those dark brown orbs, your instincts taunted you, asking you want you were afraid of.

“There’s nothing good to know,” you admitted. “Better to keep things to myself.”

His expression told you he fucking hated that.

He looked up to the mirrors around the room. You could see he was still a bit creeped out by them and tried very hard not to say it. Your elderly landlord did often joke about how you were inviting spirits into your home with these old mirrors. You usually countered with they also symbolized fate, to which he guffawed and asked how many fates you needed.

Sometimes, it felt like you needed every chance you could get.

“I can’t sleep in your bed,” he finally concluded, steeling himself.

“Your smokes are on my nightstand. So is my lighter.”

The door to the bedroom was partway open but Jungkook even didn’t look in that direction. His ears were slowly turning scarlet. He distracted himself with your statements. “What? Why?” He frowned. “I thought you threw ‘em away.”

You shrugged. “Seemed like a waste of money.”

He muttered under his breath. “Yeah. That’s what they are.” He looked a little ashamed. Shook his head, trying to convince himself. “Even more reason not to go in there and be tempted.” He began to step around your legs, shooing you away with a gruff, “Move.”

You didn’t move.

“You hate my bed that much even though you want to get in it?” you quipped.

Jungkook started. “That’s–”

You stood up abruptly.

It was so fast that he had no time to react. One moment you were sitting and the next you were standing right up to him with only a whisper of breath between your bodies, peering at his face. His hoodie fell off your shoulders and onto the cushions. His eyes widened, lips parting, and you witnessed him holding his breath as if that would somehow stop time.

Seconds that felt like hours ticked by.

You wondered how it would feel to be held by him.

“Fine,” you whispered, staring into his eyes. “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow.”

And you walked around, letting him breathe again.

-

Being awake was torturous due to constantly fighting invasive thoughts. Being asleep was worse due to remaining imprisoned in those intrusive thoughts blended with uncontrolled imagination, which was your presumed explanation for your insomniac nights. Yeah. And people wondered why you kept to yourself. Such was being human, so once again you gave into the insanity of doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result because it could not be avoided.

Everyone had to sleep, after all.

And you woke up a few hours later, as predicted, wrenching yourself out of a dream you didn’t want to be in, trying your best to remember none of it. You were used to it. Routine of the night, so to speak. That made it more annoying than anxiety-inducing. You laid on your back in relative silence, staring into the darkness of the ceiling and running your fingers over your sheets. A folded portion of the duvet was trapped under your left side and you impatiently yanked it out from under you, forgetting the images of betrayal in the wake of another’s selfishness.

For tonight, anyway.

There was a loud snore on the other side of your bedroom door, offending your ears at this late hour. You sat up. You had been a little surprised at Jungkook accepting your offer. Then again, everything was happening because of split decisions and obvious desires. And some logic. Just not much. You hadn’t talked much after you handed him the extra pillow from your bed and a soft fuzzy blanket. There wasn’t much to talk about, not to mention both of you were trying to pretend as if this wasn’t happening. In movies and television shows, this would have gone in a whole different direction. In reality, it was a lot more awkward and untimely.

You glanced over to the nightstand that held his cigarettes and your lighter, barely making out the outlines of the items. Maybe his initial intention really was to come just to get them. Or maybe it was to put you in a compromising position or something like that. Neither of those things happened because neither of those things were who he was, only ideas of what he thought he could be, but he hadn’t thought any of it through, so now he was snoring up a storm on your sofa without a care in the world.

Unlike you, it seemed like his sleep was solace rather than a battleground.

You tapped a finger against the bed and then sighed, pulling yourself out from under the duvet to grab a large t-shirt to pull over your head. Headed to the bedroom door and opened it quietly, slipping out to the kitchen accompanied by Jungkook’s noisy and uncoordinated nose symphony. He was facing the inside of the sofa but, unfortunately for you and fortunately for him, had powerful lungs. There wasn’t much worry about rousing him. You opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water, hoping the cool liquid could refresh you somehow.

You faced the sink and took a few sips.

Was friendship even the correct word for what you and Jeon Jungkook had? It was more closeness from coincidence rather than a direct seeking out of the other. Closeness that became closer before either of you realized it, slowly losing all the people in between until only you and him were left. Maybe that was why he had a sort of fixation on you since everyone had distanced themselves for various reasons, relationships, careers, adventures. Then again, fixation seemed to be his defining feature.

You almost snorted, and would have if he wasn’t sleeping on your couch.

But maybe not, as he had paradoxical, flighty tendencies too. Always influenced by someone or some media he consumed. You weren’t without your own flaws, you knew. Deep thought and constant existential crisis didn’t exactly make for good company. Sometimes it was better not to think so much, which was why you tried to fight your instinctive nature at times. You looked over to the mirrors on the living room walls, taking another drink. They were small, not very useful as a looking glass or for nitpicking an outfit before leaving. You had not been lying when you told Jungkook that you bought them to get over your hatred of them. There was a time when you hated seeing your reflection because the person in the mirror wasn’t matching up with the person in your head.

Irrational, yes.

Reality was irrational.

You rested your ass against the bottom cabinets of your kitchen and sipped from the water bottle. You knew you weren’t a good person since you had long given up aspiring for something great. Anyone worth anything aspired for something great. Not even failure was frowned upon the in the presence of a dream nowadays. You didn’t understand why Jungkook was snoring in your apartment right now, why he cared if you got home in one piece, why he was trying so hard to quit smoking for someone like you who lived in irreverence. South Korea valued productivity, beauty, and giving away one’s humanity for the cause. Not giving a fuck made you no better than the bottom of the barrel.

You couldn’t answer what he so heavily hinted at because it just didn’t make any sense.

Maybe he was just dumb.

Jungkook snored particularly loud and choked, throwing himself into a coughing fit.

You frowned and made your way over to him as he shrimped up and groaned, highly displeased and groggy from this turn of events. There was no obvious reaction to you approaching him. Either he didn’t hear you or didn’t register where he was.

You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Nrgh…”

“You alright?” You kept your voice low, a level above a whisper. “Want some water?”

He said your name as if underwater. Muffled and out of it. You pulled your hand away as he turned over and sat up, squinting hard. “Uh?” He was still wearing his tank top which was now wrinkled around his waist. The top of his chest glistened with sweat. He probably usually slept shirtless and didn’t do so to be polite.

You held out the plastic bottle in your hand. “Water.”

He wasn’t thinking straight because he grabbed the bottle from you without objection, as if he wholeheartedly accepted you were the cold-water fairy of his dreams. He drank without so much of a thank you and with his lips right against the opening, crushing the latter half of what was left in only a few seconds.

“Uwah…!”

He dropped his hand, breathing out hard. You glanced at your empty hand. Comtemplated on giving him a reality check of what he just did but instead decided to let it go.

“Uh… Why are you awake?” he asked you blearily, becoming more awake by the second.

Some truths were better left unsaid for now. “Getting used to your snoring,” you mused, dropping your hand.

Jungkook seemed embarrassed. Looked from the water bottle to the coffee table behind your legs. The distance was too great for it to be casual. He clung onto it for emotional safety. “S-Sorry about that,” he mumbled, straightening his tank top and rubbing his neck.

“It’s probably a side effect of your smoking,” you commented.

He shot you an angry pout but there was no retort when you were right. “It’s probably my rhinitis,” he huffed. An uncomfortable, short silence.

Once again, both of you were reminded of a late-night call in the dead of night.

You held out your hand for the water bottle. After a moment, Jungkook handed it back. Apparently, it still hadn’t occurred to him why it was half-empty.  He seemed more curious about you being awake. You wondered that too. You gestured to the pillow.

“It’s not comfortable, is it?”

He followed your gesture and half-heartedly shrugged. “I’ll be okay.” He shot you a look. “Worried about me?” His deep, sleepy voice sounded a lot cockier than he looked. He looked like a puppy that had just woken up after napping in a weird position. His black hair was sticking up every which way.

“I’m always worried about you,” you replied with a deadpan face.

His eyes widened.

You followed up with, “You’re an idiot.”

That pissed Jungkook off. He reached up to smack you and you caught his hand in the air. That woke him up. But honestly you were losing sleep and energy fast. It made you catch his fingers at an odd angle, almost a caress, and you were too tired to care, sighing before backing away, slowly letting go of his hand. His fingertips slid over the inside of your wrist. You turned your back to him.

You headed to the kitchen and tossed the bottle in the proper recycling bin.

He called your name.

“What?” you grumpily replied, straightening.

“You’re not wearing pants…” Jungkook reminded you.

You had to bend over to access the sorted trash. “Lucky you.”

His tone became gruff. “Don’t be so reckless in front of a guy.”

You half-turned and raised an eyebrow. He was still firmly seated on your sofa. “You act like I’m not standing in my kitchen next to my knives,” you pointed out, ticking your head in the direction of your knife block. “Also, are you implying that you’re a trashy guy?”

“I’m not a trashy guy,” he snapped angrily.

“Then what do I have to be worried about?” You took the steps towards your bedroom door.

“I just don’t like how you obviously have no interest in me,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, throwing himself down onto the sofa and turning his back to you.

You stopped in the doorway.

He was not provoking you. He sounded more like a kid that didn’t get his way rather than an adult trying to reverse psychology you. His words were not meant to change your mind. Yet, all of a sudden, you began to wonder what the fuck you were dancing in this limbo for. All because you didn’t want to be someone’s reason for anything? Well, congratulations, you failed. You failed your dream of a pointless existence. Woohoo. You rolled your eyes to the sky and turned around.

He was still pill-bug-positioned when you grabbed his shoulder and yanked him from the cease in the sofa, lowering your head to hiss, “Stop being a fucking brat.”

You expected him to tense up. His head jerked around and Jungkook stared at you. Wide-eyed, as if you had just pulled him out of a top hat by his ears. You glared, physically tired and tired of this shit, sliding your hand down his collarbone and cupping his chin, pulling him to better face you, tilting your head to narrow your eyes at him.

He sputtered. “W… What?”

“You heard me,” you answered in a clipped tone. “Get up.”

“Huh?”

You let go of his chin and slapped his upper arm. “Get up.”

In a tangle of long limbs and bewilderment, you yanked him up by his forearm, snatching the pillow from under him. Dragged him and his twisted blanket skirt into your bedroom. You hadn’t given him enough time to unravel himself. You let go of his forearm and slammed the pillow onto the empty right side of the bed, pointing rudely to the rumpled poof.

“Lay down,” you ordered.

Jungkook waved his hands, panic rising in his gravelly voice. “I can’t–”

“I don’t give a fuck,” you interrupted and marched behind him, shoving the small of his back. He got the hint after a short flailing about, shuffling towards the side of the bed before flopping onto the duvet like a caught tuna. He tried not to make eye contact, but you weren’t looking anyway, too busy crossing over to the other side and slinking under the duvet.

He squeaked out an, “Um…”

“Shut up,” was your automatic grumble. “Go to sleep.”

He answered in a small voice. “But… What if I snore…?”

“I know you’ll snore,” you grunted, reaching to him and pinning his shoulder down. He was above the duvet, half-wrapped in the blanket you had given him earlier. You had noticed he was still wearing his gray sweatpants so he wasn’t indecent. Not that it mattered. “I’ll get used to it.”

“I…”

You made a growling noise in warning, squinting at his face.

He gulped. “I just… Wanted to say thanks…”

You let go of him and turned your back, firmly closing your eyes. Jungkook was right there. You had a queen-sized bed. Big enough, but not so big that he could pull himself far away from you. You could feel his presence. It wasn’t a bad thing, though.

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled curtly and didn’t say any more.

-

When he opened the door, he looked disheveled and distractable, noisily chewing gum, jerking his head around your periphery as if he expected you to bring an entourage to shake him down. You stood at his doorstep, perturbed. His dark eyes flickered to you and nearly bulged out of his head.

“The hell are you wearing?” Jeon Jungkook blurted without any formal or informal greeting.

You thought you would be used to it by now. It was becoming kind of funny, in a way. “These are my work clothes,” you calmly explained. It was true that he hadn’t seen you in a nice silk blouse and fitted pencil skirt before. Dark teal and jet black, respectively. “I have a job I go to.”

This was the logical answer but it was not exactly the answer Jungkook wanted. You could tell by the knitting of his brows, his still open mouth, and the way he was just staring at your hips instead of continuing the conversation. His black hair was sticking up in the back. As usual, he was wearing casual clothes. A big, light gray t-shirt and charcoal sweats.

You raised your hand and shut his jaw so you didn’t have to view his half-chewed pink gum. “You’re going to the gym, aren’t you?”

It broke him out of his trance. He looked irritated, chewing again. More than that. He looked jittery. “Yeah.” He seemed to be having a mental debate. You wanted no part of that. “I was about to drink a protein shake while waiting for you.”

“Cool,” you said in an impassive tone that indicated you had no interest in protein shakes. You reached into your mid-size black leather bag and pulled out his black sweatpants, now clean and smelling of dryer sheet. “Here, then.” You lifted your head to hold them out.

Jungkook had abandoned his front door.

A muscle in your cheek twitched. His apartment was more modern, although about the same size as yours. Space was a luxury. The door was slowly closing without the aid of someone holding it. You smacked your palm against the light wood and pushed it open, your black heels clicking on the dark gray hardwood. Or was it vinyl? Hard to tell and you didn’t care to inspect. The walls were bright cool white. His big black backpack was on the floor of the short entrance hall. It was slightly open. Black boxing gloves with yellow accents and white towels were shoved in there. You expected him to be messy but all of his sneakers were lined up against the wall. Could use a shoe rack, though.

Jungkook reappeared, gum-less this time, carrying a shake tumbler with a vanilla-colored substance in it, clanging it about with one hand and trying to be chill. As chill as a nonchalant freak-out would be.

He coughed and asked, casually, “You go dressed like that to work?”

You weren’t sure why he gave a shit about what you were wearing. “Perks of an administrative desk job. Dress code.” You waved the rolled-up sweatpants in his direction. “Take these.”

He gave you a suspicious look as if you were the one to decide societal expectations for female office wear. “Who are you trying to impress?”

“The HR department,” you replied, deadpan. “I’d get fired if I showed up to work dressed like you.”

He nodded, agreeing but not convinced. “What if someone hits on you?”

“I set them on fire.”

Jungkook gawked at you.

You dropped your outstretched arm and clicked your tongue. “I don’t do anything. No one is allowed to date a co-worker and I’m not interested in any of them,” you explained. If only he knew that you sat alone in a cramped office and reviewed budgeting for university laboratories so no one was heedlessly using government funding. It was thrilling stuff. “Why do you care if someone hits on me?”

His eyes narrowed. “Of course, I care. I don’t want some asshole harassing you.” Before you could tell him to look in the mirror, he muttered, “Do you really think you won’t get hurt looking that hot?”

The real answer was that you didn’t care.

You tossed his sweatpants onto his backpack while saying, “Workplace harassment is very serious. I doubt my superiors want a scandal. You’re right. I’m considered attractive, so they want to keep me as a model employee and for gender equality points.”

“What about the train?” Jungkook pressed, stepping closer.

You almost rolled your eyes. “The subway is always shitty. Everybody knows that,” you said. “I’ve been taking the subway since high school. I’m pretty good at spotting psycho now.” You looked up at him with contained venom. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know that,” he snapped, placing his protein shake on the floor before confronting you again. “I just don’t like it.” He glared back.

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like that I can take care of myself?”

“No,” Jungkook stubbornly repeated. Frustration crept into his features. “It makes me mad.”

One look at his face and it was obvious what he was implying. There was no reason to give in, though. “That sucks.” You patted the top of his chest condescendingly. “Maybe you need to see a therapist for that.”

He jerked his head towards the mound on his backpack. “Take the pants back and put them on.”

You wondered if he was being this way because he had paranoia or because he had nothing better to do. “No,” you refused. You crossed your arms. “Don’t be this way only for yourself. Plus, I just washed them.”

Like an ox, he didn’t relent. “Then I’ll get you a different pair.”

You noticed you didn’t smell the scent of smoke on him. Not strong or faint. It was obvious he didn’t smoke in his apartment, but he probably did at the roof of the complex or somewhere similar. You didn’t know him to be a heavy smoker, but it inevitably got onto his belongings. You tilted your head. There hadn’t been any smell that night a couple weeks ago when he slept over at your apartment where you had eventually forced him to snore on the bed.

You had woken up to Jungkook sprawled out, snoring into the pillow and one arm on your tits.

Explained your dream where you felt annoying pressure on your chest. That morning had been rather uneventful other than waking him up and kicking him out of your apartment. You had the decency to be more polite than that, but neither of you were in a state to talk about it. Neither of you seemed to be morning people. You simply told him you had work. He had mumbled he did too, and he had to race out to get ready in time. Only now had you found time to stop by his apartment to return his borrowed sweatpants. Maybe you had been avoiding it a little bit. Texts between you both were sparse. Asking for his address and asking if he’d be home. You peered into his dark eyes. Jungkook paused. He seemed to sense that you weren’t walling him anymore.

“When was the last time you smoked?” You made sure not to sound accusatory.

He started. “Uh…” He looked sheepish. “I’ve been trying to last a month at least…” He gestured behind him to what you assumed was the kitchen. You could see part of his living room from here but not much. His couch was cognac brown leather. “Been chewing gum and going to the gym a bunch to fight the cravings.” Frowned and sighed. “It’s hard,” Jungkook bitterly muttered. He glared. “Bet you’re loving this.”

Unluckily for him, you weren’t intimidated by puppy growls. You nodded, noncommittal, and looked down. His charcoal sweatpants looked soft. Worn in with wear. Your eyes flickered back up. His followed with slight confusion etching into his expression. You held his gaze until you felt his discomfort.

And then you made an impulsive, instinctive decision.

“I’ll agree to borrowing another pair of your pants,” you finally said. He looked relieved. “As long as I get to pick which pair.”

He seemed puzzled but shrugged. “Sure?”

You pressed for confirmation. “Agree or not?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook responded sharply. “What, you that desperate to raid my closet or something? Go ahead, then.” He waved a careless hand into the apartment.

But you stayed where you were. You stepped forward with a click of your heels. He stepped back in his house slippers, bewildered but still defiant, not yet realizing that you were not herding him further inside. He moved as if to let you lead the way, except you turned your body to block him, watching his every move.

His shoulder blades hit the wall.

Those big brown eyes blinked slowly. “Uh…”

You glanced down and then back up at his face.

Jungkook’s eyes tracked your movement. Didn’t get it. You repeated the dip of your chin and lashes, then back up. Dead silence. It slowly dawned onto him. You cocked your head, removing your crossed arms as his eyes became wider.

“W… What…?”

You didn’t let him hide his reaction, tracking every quiver of his lip and awkward chuckle. “They’re clean, aren’t they?” you asked as if it was the most sensible question in the world.

“Uh, well, yeah, b-but…” Jungkook stuttered, trying to decipher how serious you were or if he was even understanding the implications of your stare. “T-That’s…”

You backed up a step. “Then it’s a no?” you offered. “And you will stop trying to white knight my outfit choices?” You made yourself clear. “I won’t be changing them simply because you hate my clothes.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t hate your clothes. I like them. That is the problem,” he barked.

You gave him a blank look.

Jungkook sighed out of his nose before looking away and saying in a clipped tone, “Fine. I’ll change. Whatever.”

You moved before he could, blocking his way again.

He growled under his breath, glaring down. “What?”

You held aggressive eye contact. “We’re behind closed doors,” you reminded him. Gave him the pointed up-and-down. “Go on.”

Slight panic laced into his expression. “Uh… Are you serious?”

You already knew Jungkook wasn’t commenting on your fashion because he thought it was inappropriate. It was for the same innocuous reason that you were asking him for the charcoal sweatpants he was wearing right now. Well. Demanding.

“Deadly,” you answered him with a deadly smile.

He might be bigger and stronger than you, but he lacked the imposing audacity. You waited. He didn’t move. Ten full seconds passed. You had your answer, then. You gave him a curt nod and readjusted your grip on your work bag, about to turn away.

A strong hand wrapped around your wrist and gently pulled you back.

You backtracked to stand in front of him again. His eyes darted about somewhat nervously. “I get it…” he mumbled, still holding onto your wrist. His other hand was drifting down. He seemed uncomfortable but not in a bad way, which struck you as odd. He lifted the hem of his shirt a bit. It caught on the front tie of the sweatpants. The tips of his ears were pink. Jungkook hooked a thumb under the waistband and averted his eyes.

You reached forward and pulled on the end of the looped strings.

He nearly yelped and jerked back, causing the tie to come unraveled. You had leaned over a little to get access. Lifted your gaze to look up at his shocked face. He was speechless. You didn’t straighten up yet. Just stared into his eyes. His lips parted but no words came out.

You smiled.

He uneasily let go of your wrist. You backed out of his personal space. Jungkook gave you a strange look and stripped off his pants with a swift tug downwards, bending a knee to kick them up and into his hand, immediately holding them in front of his body.

“Here.”

He thrust the balled-up sweats into your chest. You looked at it. Then at him. Then tried to crane your head downwards.

“H-Hey!”

He waved wildly. You stumbled. He tried to catch you without dropping anything. Your hand came up to press against his chest, causing him to back against the wall again, clutching his pants in front of his crotch. You paused and searched his expression as you pulled back your hand. He was in between conflicted and stunned. His legs were quite defined. At least he didn’t skip leg day. You decided to do it. Lowered your bag to the floor so you had use of your two hands. You reached behind you for the invisible zipper of your skirt and pulled it down. Jungkook seemed to be in a perpetual state of silence. You had to wiggle slightly to free yourself of the tube of black fabric, stepping out of it primly before standing back up, leaving you in your sheer black stockings and with your blouse barely skimming the tops of your thighs.

Now both of you were holding your bottoms. One of you was simply dumbstruck. The other folded and rolled up the skirt, tucking it into your elbow, and stepped up to him. Immediately, his free hand shot up, planting right above your left breast, dark tattoos stark against his tan skin from the overhead light.

“W-Whoa, wait…!”

You tilted your head and rested your hand on the sweatpants he was now desperately clutching to his lower body. You tugged. He did not let go. You raised an eyebrow and began to lower your head. His fingertips hooked under your chin and yanked you back up to his terrified expression of wild eyes and fish mouth. You remained emotionless, giving him nothing. His cheeks flushed pink.

“I… I just need a second–”

You closed more of the distance, placing a leg in between his slightly open ones. His grip on your chin tightened. It didn’t scare you in the slightest. In contrast, big bad Jungkook looked like he was about to sink into the floor. You stilled. Maybe this was too far.

You leaned back a little but didn’t remove your leg. “A second for what?”

He swallowed hard, averting his gaze again. “U-Uh, j-j-just a s-second to breathe… that’s all,” he muttered.

“What’s the issue?” you calmly inquired.

“N-Nothing,” and that sounded like a whole lot of something.

You shifted your leg and your stocking-covered shin rubbed against his calf. Jungkook made a very strange noise and hastily pulled his hand back. You did not stop the contact. You simply watched the emotions play across his features as he shut his eyes, wordlessly mouthing swears before clenching his jaw and sliding up the wall to delicately back up.

“You sure it’s nothing?” Twice as unassuming and immediately tipping him off that you were aware of his predicament.

His brows furrowed. “Shut up.” He took in several deep breaths.

You hummed. “Is it that big of a deal?”

“Yes, it is,” Jungkook hissed. He cracked open one eye. “Have you no sense of danger?”

You did your best not to smile. Failed, but only just. “Not with you.”

Relief and annoyance washed over him. “Shut up,” he said again and you were beginning to realize he did not really mean for you to shut up. “Ugh.” He thrust the charcoal ball of fabric into your chest. “Here. Put it on.”

“No longer embarrassed?” you asked, catching a glimpse of his partial erection.

Jungkook pointedly looked away from you and stared at his own front door. “I’m not embarrassed. Put the pants on, damnnit. I can’t look at you.”

“Sure, you can,” you quipped as you slipped on his sweatpants. “I’m sure you’ve checked me out at some point.”

He sucked in the side of his cheek sharply. “It’s not the same. And, besides…” He trailed off.

You smoothed out the front and tightened the strings. Jungkook reluctantly brought his gaze back to you, checking you out. You tugged your blouse out of the pants a bit to give the two disharmonious pieces more balance. You filled out the top of his pants a bit more because of your ass. The whole ensemble was a little odd, but only if one looked too closely.

He frowned. “Why do you look good?”

“It’s the heels,” you absentmindedly replied. “Besides, what?”

For a moment, you thought Jungkook wasn’t going to respond. But then his eyes raised, locking to yours determinedly. “If I can make it to a month, then…” He faltered before regaining his composure. “No, I will make it to a month. And all the rest. But when you see how serious I am, then… Then I want you to seriously consider me.”

Now it was your turn to avert your eyes. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Guilt settled as you realized that he was more intuitive than you gave him credit for. But you came back to him, eventually. His dark brown orbs lit up as you spoke.

“Sure.”

-

In a surprising turn of events, Jeon Jungkook actually greeted you with a breathless, “Hey,” for once when you answered his call, only to follow that up with, “The fuckin’ gym is closed, fuck.”

You blinked at your phone, put it on speaker, and tucked it into one of your upper kitchen cabinets to prop it up. It was not a video call. However, your hands were currently occupied. “I’m sorry,” you replied dryly, turning down the vent fan.

“Ugh, I really needed it today,” he grumbled, mostly at himself rather than at you. You heard the sounds of traffic and the white noise of wind. “And it’s cold tonight, hmph.”

You mentally calculated the day as you picked up the plate and tongs again. “Why was it closed? It’s not a holiday as far as I know.”

“I dunno. Note on the door said family emergency, so I guess I’ll find out later from the manager,” he said absentmindedly. It was a bit weird that Jungkook was treating this like small talk when he almost never called. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do or say about his predicament, so you began to place the slices of meat onto the hot pan, which immediately began loudly sizzling with popping oil. It must have picked up on the microphone. You heard a startled noise and then, “Whatchu doing?”

“Making dinner. And meal prepping at the same time, since I’m already cooking,” you replied, nudging the slices to fit all the meat in. Hm. Wouldn’t be the first time. Hm.

“What are you making?” He was sounding a bit too eager.

“Braised vegetables and pan-fried samgyeopsal,” you answered, reminding yourself to check under the lid. The bok choy and enoki mushrooms were just barely done. You quickly removed it from the heat before returning it the sizzling pork belly.

“Ugh.” He sounded jealous. “I’m jealous.” Guess he was. You found yourself smiling and quickly stopped, lightly adding a little flaky salt before starting the process of turning them over. You might die from a heart attack but not without a full belly of pork belly. “You’ve made me hungry. Maybe I’ll go get some ice cream.”

You mused. “Gym closed, so ice cream on a cool night is the solution?” The edges of pork belly were becoming that sweet golden caramel. Your kitchen was becoming decadently fragrant.

“This night is shit, anyway,” Jungkook complained. “I’d come over but you’d kick me out.”

You paused at his words. Then you busied yourself with taking the plate to the sink while raising your voice so he could hear you. “I didn’t kick you out last time.”

There was a short muteness that your both mutually agreed on before he sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. I’ll go home without the ice cream.”

You tutted. “I’m not the food police. Go get your ice cream if you want to.” You began to portion out the vegetables into the glass tupperware that you had already lined up.

“Nah,” he muttered. He really enjoyed this seesaw, huh. To be honest, you didn’t mind it. Maybe calling it fun too out of line, but. “I shouldn’t go into the convenience store, anyway. I don’t wanna break my streak.”

Only stubbornness could solidify self-restraint, it seemed. You checked the pork belly. It was done, so you turned off the fire and began to plate up your soon-to-be and future meals. Took less time because you had boiled the samgyeopsal first to keep the meat tender, removed it before it was completely cooked through, sliced it, and then pan-fried to completion. You plated the last of the vegetables, added the final helping of pork belly, and drizzled a bit of soybean paste on top. A small part of you wanted to take a photo and send it to Jungkook. Rub it in, perhaps. You picked up your phone and opened the camera app.

“Hey.”

“Uh?”

You filled the photo space with a close-up shot of your simple meal and sent it to him. “Check your messages.”

There was a scuffle and Jungkook grunted before gasping and then bringing his phone back to his ear. “Hey, fuck you.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed.

“Man… You suck.” He didn’t know the half of it. He was mumbling a tantrum on the street. “Ugh, now I’m so hungry... And mad. I’m mad at you.”

In between tee-hees and bites of your dinner, you placed your phone onto the counter. “If you buy me lunch, I’ll let you have one of mine,” you joked. Mmm, the meat was cooked just right. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

“No… I can’t do that,” he grumbled, taking your joke seriously. He scoffed. “Instead, I’ll bring a steak and make you cook it for me.”

“Steak?” You considered his suggestion. “Sure, I can cook steak.”

“Hah, see, you won’t – wait…” You heard a sputter and what sounded like a tumble. Or maybe the beginnings of one caught in the middle. He did have good reflexes. “O… Oh.” He sounded winded. “I thought you were… Thought you were gonna refuse.”

You nibbled on some delicious enoki mushroom. “Why?” You knew full well why. Just wanted to make him squirm. Also, him thinking you couldn’t cook a steak annoyed you. As if you didn’t know the value of medium rare. Hmph.

“A-Ah… Well.” He coughed and promptly changed the subject as embarrassed people do. “Are you eating right now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “It’s very tasty. I did a good job.”

You could him suck in an inhale of childish disappointment. “I’m suffering here.”

“No one is asking you to.”

“Hmmmm, I don’t like this.” And yet he stayed on the line. It sounded like he was jogging the streets. Maybe trying to arrive home faster and keep his body temperature up.

You imagined it. Then you told yourself to stop that. “Do you have something to eat at home?”

“There’s probably something,” Jungkook puffed. “Probably not as good, but I’ve got freezer stuff. I can cook, though,” he insisted.

You hadn’t questioned it. But you did now. “Hm, really?” You half-smiled in between bites of bok choy.

“Yes, really.” Very adamant. “Someday,” he added, in the tone of someday proving it.

You remembered the last time he was in your kitchen. The last time he was in your apartment. You looked down to the cropped black t-shirt and the familiar charcoal sweatpants you were wearing. The scene was set. Still, it didn’t clarify how to feel about it. Answers were usually simple. Believing them was a different story. He called your name. Without thinking, you answered right away.

“Mhm?”

“I’m home,” Jungkook grunted.

Maybe you supposed to pop confetti. You let it go and asked, “Less angry about your lack of gym time?”

“Not really.” But he did sound less stressed somehow. Maybe it was the cardio of the jog. “I guess I gotta find something to eat now. Lemme put you on speaker.”

The number of times he could have hung up increased. And yet he hadn’t done so yet. You were almost finished eating. You could have ended the call right now. Said you were busy and done your chores without further distraction. It just didn’t feel right. That said enough. Well, at the very least, you thought you should accompany him on his food adventure.

He exclaimed loudly. “Ah! I found some corn ice cream at the bottom of my freezer! Nice!”

Your palm made contact with your forehead. “I guess you must be the gods’ lucky one,” you mused, mopping up your last bite. Time to clear the kitchen. Sad.

“You know it,” he cheered.

You heard him ripping open the plastic with gusto. Would have sounded cocky if it wasn’t for his barely audible happy noises. You began to tidy up the kitchen to distract yourself. Putting away spices, collecting the various cooking utensils into the sink, wiping down counters, putting the lids on the now cooled-down meals. You stacked them in the fridge. You didn’t try to hide what you were doing but, then again, Jungkook was seemingly too mesmerized by his ice cream to speak. Amidst your domestic tasks, you saw the parallels of being in the same place in your respective apartments, both together and apart at the same time with only a thread of technology connecting each other, and you glanced at your phone screen, wondering if he had hung up on you. The call was still active.

Such a mundane existence.

And yet.

You stood by your sink, the washing up the last to do, and you abandoned it to stand by your phone. It seemed so… annoying to have simple enjoyments taken away by complicated thoughts. Maybe there was a better word for it. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that you were listening to Jungkook enjoying his small happiness of the day and wondered if he intentionally or unintentionally shared it with you. Wondered if the intention even mattered in the face of what was.

You broke the relative silence. “When do you want me to cook that steak for you?”

The faint sound of licking lips. He must have scooted closer to his phone, because the volume of his words was louder than the sounds from earlier. “Uh…” You waited. “I think my one month of no cigarettes is coming up soon. Maybe then…?” He trailed off awkwardly.

The crumpled pack was still on your nightstand next to your lighter. You hadn’t touched either. They were collectively collecting dust. You opened your mouth, reconsidered, and then said what was on your mind.

“I never hated you just because you smoked.”

Maybe it was better that you couldn’t see each other. “Yeah, but…” He let out a breath. “It was the reason why you didn’t want to be around me.”

You couldn’t deny it.

“I get it, though,” Jungkook muttered softly. “I didn’t really want to be around myself either. Maybe I haven’t had any great failures, but… That means I haven’t had a chance to grow from hardships. Coasting, sort of. I need to push myself to be better, because I’m definitely not where I’m supposed to be.”

Your eyes raised which caused you to realize you had dipped your head. You wondered who put those thoughts in his head, but the answer was all around you. In the subtext of conversation of strangers, friends, family.

“It’s weird,” he continued, maybe forgetting you could hear him slurp in between words or because his ice cream was rapidly melting. “I was talking to a friend about you and he asked me if you ever needed anything from me, ever.” He sucked in a breath. “Tch. I kinda hate that, but also it made me realize… Isn’t that the most natural I’ve ever been with anyone? No expectations… Maybe even negative.” He laughed a little, and you could imagine him shaking his head. “Is this how you want to spend your life? No. I want to be someone that you might need someday.”

You didn’t say anything about him talking about you to other people. It was slightly funny of him to think of you as an enigma when you felt that you were so simple, really. Maybe that made you the root of his complicated thoughts. Maybe not. He was right in that you did your best to not depend on others, even going out of you way to not need others. Not expecting anything from them to not be disappointed. You didn’t see that changing anytime soon, but, an exception?

All rules had them.

“I’m looking forward to making you that steak,” you chuckled. “I need to finish up the dishes, so I’ll let you go. For now.”

“A-Ah…” Jungkook cleared his throat. “Okay. S… See ya.”

You half-smiled. Even though he couldn’t see it, you were sure that he could hear it in your tone. “You will,” and you ended the call.

-

You found a small package addressed to you in your mailbox. No return address, no postage, but it had relatively neat handwriting that seemed familiar somehow. You tucked the soliciting letters under your arm as you re-locked your postage box. The packaging was brown paper. You turned it over in your hand.

For your collection. Jeon Jungkook.

You almost snorted. He could have. But he didn’t. You suddenly felt odd, so you quickly walked back to your apartment, shouldering your mail and your work bag, fitting the small package into your palm. The mail room was on the ground floor. You went up the flights of stairs to the far-left unit. Unlocked your front door and went in, using your shoulder to push it open.

You closed the door behind you before you opened the brown-paper wrapped parcel.

The outside packaging unfurled. Tissue paper and a bit of foam. Something told you he didn’t pack this. This was the work of the elderly who sold it to him. Smooth steel. But you felt something on the side against your palm. You turned the disc around. It was one of those snap-close clay art mirrors. The kind delicately handmade by a practiced artisan’s hands. You ran your finger over it, entranced by the ridges and matte texture. The focal point was the gradient of orange depicting tiger lilies. The background was black, making the small imagery stand out.

Tiger lilies, huh.

You opened the pocket mirror and saw your bewildered expression staring back at you. Your initial compulsion was to look away. Your intrusive thoughts interrupted, asking you if you really hated what you saw. You looked and your reflection looked back. You lifted the mirror slightly, inspecting your makeup. You barely wore any to just barely get away with it at work. It still looked good.

You half-smiled.

“You’re so fucking full of it, Jeon Jungkook,” you chuckled, tucking the mirror into the pocket of your work bag before going about the rest of your night.

-

He was quite excited for steak day until you made him speechless.

“U-uh, hey! Ahem. Hey. I have the steaks. You didn’t say if I should bring vegetables, so I also got cabbage, carrots, shitake mushrooms, I didn’t know, I guessed, sorry, and I can help cook if you need someone to watch the vegetables while, uh, I can chop or clean or anything at all… um, why are you dressed like t-that…?”

If it was his plan to greet cool, calm, and collected, he failed. You opened your apartment door to gum-chewing, wide-eyed, rambling Jeon Jungkook wearing a baggy but heavyweight white button-up and dark blue jeans with white contrast stitching. Black belt with a bright gold buckle. The hem of the jeans draped well over his black laced boots. His black leather jacket was jammed in the crook of his elbow with the groceries. His jacket had silver zippers, which didn’t match his belt. The button-up was done all the way up to his neck, which didn’t suit him.

You let him go on his rant and tried not to smile.

The situation was not exactly funny. It was obvious that he was out-of-sorts by the frantic way he was gnawing on his gum like his life depended on it. You had to wait for him to take a breath. He was too far gone in his speech for you to interrupt him. You almost dared to call it adorable. Didn’t because that wasn’t part of your image even though clearly Jungkook had completely broke the image he wanted to craft for himself over his entire time of knowing you. For his sake, you pretended nothing was amiss. You simply took the groceries from his hands while saying, “Change of plans.”

His jaw was slack. You could see the pink wad of gum stuck to his molars. Lovely. “E-Eh?”

You noticed his black hair looked a little messy and windswept. It was longer now, too, giving him an unintentional rockstar vibe. Thankfully his brain was too preoccupied with being unable to catch up to the moment to notice you noticing him. You backed up into your apartment to place the bags on your kitchen counter, busying yourself with putting everything into your refrigerator.

“I want to take you somewhere,” you said to the shelves of your fridge, clearing out space. Oh, wow. He really did buy high-grade steak. Two of them. And a giant head of cabbage. “I don’t like carrots,” you commented. “But I’ll make them for you and you can take home the rest.”

He sputtered with the elegance of a caught bluefin tuna. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t – T-Take me somewhere?”

In the middle of placing the last thing, the bundle of carrots, into the fridge, you said it.

“Yes. I want to take you on a date.”

To be honest, you weren’t sure if it would come out as confidently as you heard yourself, but there was no going back now. You had debated before this day had come, turning over the tiger lily pocket mirror in your hand at night. Debated if the unwillingness was worth it and decided it wasn’t. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was thinking the same thing you were, but then he showed up. Over-dressed. Vibrating with nervous energy. Talking too fast. One look at him and you knew. You could think you had all the time in the world, but it wasn’t true. You turned around to see Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression at the entrance of your apartment and you knew.

Despite never believing in anything and thinking everything was going to shit, well, you might as well go down with a feeling of a life well-lived.

“A d… date…?”

You closed the door of your refrigerator. “A date. You’ve heard of those, haven’t you?”

He looked like he hadn’t. “I… uh… Yes?” You had meant the light jab to bring Jungkook back to Earth but both of you were currently stuck on cloud nine. “Is that why you…?” His hand raised and made a vague gesture.

Your own hand raised to smooth back your hair from your bare shoulder. “Ah. Yes.” Since your closet was mostly made up of comfy, work, and concert outfits – in that order – that amount of classy date pieces were slightly nonexistent. You had one black dress made of a slinky soft ribbed texture that was what you ended up wearing. It reached the floor, which suited the night climate of this time of year. The rest of it was quite sexy, though. The fabric made the dress cling to and accentuate your curves. The straight neckline and thin straps were maybe too flattering. Jungkook’s eyes were certainly wandering to the general area of your collarbones. You usually wore this dress in a very specific way, which you intended to do so tonight, but it couldn’t hurt to let him admire.

Yeah.

Admire was definitely the word.

Just like how you were letting him admire you walking up to him, sending him into a mild panic, knowing exactly what you were doing but trying not to think about it, instead focusing on what had been bugging you ever since you had seen it. “This… I’m sorry, but this doesn’t suit you,” you muttered, unfastening the first few buttons of the shirt and shaking it out to a more relaxed collar. He smelled good. Oh, wow, he smelled very good. Bergamot and cedarwood, it seemed. “It looked too stuffy.” You noticed the thin gold chain underneath. Oh. Perhaps the unintentional mixing of gold and silver was intentional after all. You righted the chain so it was more visible, his warm skin under your cool fingertips, and maybe you were imagining it or was that a shiver between you and him at the contact?

Your hands awkwardly hovered over his chest.

It was hard to look up but you made yourself do it.

Jungkook seemed startled but at the very least thawed from the initial shock. “O-Oh, but…” Surely he was not staring at your cleavage. Surely. You might have put it right in his line of vision, but, surely. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s c-cold outside. At least…”

It was certainly an exaggeration to call it slow-motion, and yet somehow that was the only way to describe it because now you were the one frozen in extended seconds as he tumbled his leather jacket into his palm, grabbing it by the collar and lifting it up, up and to his left hand, flaring it out with a loud flap before draping worn-in warmth over your shoulders. The sudden weight caused you to tilt forward lightly. Your open palms pressed against his chest to steady yourself. His hands stayed on your shoulders. Both of you were staring at each other for too long.

At least no one was here to record it.

He spoke first. ‘I, uh, I took a lot of my clothes to professional cleaners,” Jungkook said quietly. “Since… It gives me a good reason to not… It cost a lot.” His ears were probably as red as yours.

You inhaled, raising your chest, and noticed how new the leather smelled despite him owning it for a while now. Your faint smile was now inevitable. “I really appreciate it,” and you did. He didn’t have to, and he did.

The light in his eyes must have been your imagination. “R… Really?” Or maybe not. He was breathless and there was no obvious cause for it.

Never in wildest dreams and insomniac nights and daytime silence full of running thoughts could you have created this present time where you felt that you saw him and he saw you. From all the gray haze moments of the past to those bright uncertain days of small happiness in the future, you knew you could do it alone, but, for once, it seemed unbearable to do so.

You leaned up and kissed him.

Your eyes had closed as you tilted your head to close the distance. Maybe you should have considered seeing his surprise. Maybe you were too nervous to. It was only a simple press of lips-to-lips. Still, you found respite. A strange tingle shot through you as you felt Jungkook kiss you back. Somehow, you felt his relief of you taking charge of a moment that he had wanted to happen for a long time.

After a savored moment, both of you broke apart.

Afraid to overstep. Slightly shocked that that just happened. You snuck a peek. It was impossible to not call him adorable and thankfully you were too high off the moment to say anything. He caught your eye. You let him, gracing him a coy curve of your lips.

His cheeks bloomed pink. “Y-You… You wanna wear my jacket?”

You lightly shook your head, reaching up to touch the back of his hand. “You’ll be cold. I was going to wear a sweater over my dress,” you explained. His expression fell a little bit despite your logic. “But I wanted to wait to see what colors you were wearing so that I could choose something that pairs well. It would be nice to match somewhat, right?” Immediately Jungkook perked up again.

It was just a damn hot pot date. Why were you both grinning like idiots? The world never did make any sense, hmph.

-

In spite of best efforts, you dozed off on his shoulder.

Dinner had been a little bit awkward. Not so awkward it was unpleasant, but enough where you had to pull yourself together to bring him back to his usual self. You wore a fluffy, thick, cropped white sweater over your black dress, giving you some much needed warmth for the cool night and giving Jungkook back his sanity. Then you took it away by hooking your arm into his, holding onto him as you both rode the train in thoughtless silence. The hot pot restaurant had newly opened and was packed with curious customers. In a stroke of luck, the host managed to find seating due to your small party size. After a brief explanation, you made a beeline for the lineup of ingredients. It had taken a mountain of vegetables, shrimp, and fishcakes on a plate to break Jungkook out of his trance.

“W-Woah! You eat that much?”

You had tilted your head. “We’re sharing. Duh.”

A flash of annoyance. “How do you know what I like to eat?”

“What don’t you like to eat?” you countered.

Jungkook puffed a cheek. “That’s not the point!”

It wasn’t the most deep of conversations. Still, it did bring you both some peace to know that you hadn’t lost what you already had. There was always that fear and it was good to know that the fear was unfounded.

“I only want one egg.”

He spoke over you, “Too bad, you’re getting two,” using one hand to crack another to poach in your boiling bone broth. You made a face at him as you mixed minced onions and garlic into your chili oil, sesame oil, and soy sauce combination. He waved a third egg at you threateningly. You were adversely terrified. He became distracted by your concoction. “Let me try.”

“No. I’ll make you your own.”

“We’re sharing.”

“There are limits,” and you promptly walked off to do just that. For his credit, he didn’t snatch your hard work. Might have been because his food wasn’t finished cooking yet. Semantics. “It’s my treat, by the way.”

Irrtation was going to permanently furrow his brows if he wasn’t careful. “I don’t need your charity. Besides, you’re hurting my pride as a man.”

You cried for him. “Boo hoo.” Sarcastically.

“You’re not paying.”

“You wanna fight?”

His dark eyes narrowed. “Kinda if you keep this up.”

You pretended to lift your sweater.

Jungkook almost threw himself over the two boiling pots of broth. “Gah! What do you think you’re doing?!” He tried not to yell, hissing low between his teeth. “You’re crazy!”

“Putting you in your place,” you answered dryly.

His expression was between flabbergasted and aghast. “D-Don’t do that!”

Not the deepest of conversations. You smiled. He noticed, and looked away quickly, his ears turning pink as he busied himself ordering plates of meat. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to cook the steaks like you had originally promised. It would have made a great first date, even. And yet. Yet, you didn’t want to, because for some reason following the original plan felt symbolic of something ending instead of a beginning. You were confident in your cooking, and still the possibility of even the slightest failure made it so that you couldn’t relax. Maybe it was selfish to drag out a promise. Nothing about Jungkook’s demeanor indicated he was against it, though.

“What?”

You blinked, realizing you had zoned out in his direction. “Nothing. Just…” He frowned. You almost wanted to ask him if he was disappointed by this turn of events. He was already shoving a plateful of thinly-sliced flat iron steak into his hot pot. “Just realized we’re only here now because of a cigarette and a lighter.”

His eyes cast downward. “I’m sor–” he began.

“Who knew a bad decision could turn into such a good one.”

Jungkook snapped his head back up, surprised. You gave him an impassive expression complete with a raised eyebrow. The corners of his lips tugged upwards. He tried to hide it. He wasn’t as good at it as you were.

“Yeah. I guess…”

He sounded a little too happy for that lukewarm response. You reached into your bag, pulling out a pocket mirror to needlessly check your makeup. He noticed the tiger lilies nestled in your palm and positively beamed. You did your best to wipe your stupid smile off your face and clipped it closed to resume the meal. The rest of the dinner was similar. Well, largely focused on how many plates of shabu-shabu meat both of you could consume to make the restaurant regret seating you. At the very least, Jungkook had been impressed with your gall.

Points gained there, heh.

So, now, in spite of best efforts, Jungkook leaned his head against yours and dozed off with you on your sofa, curled up under the same blanket he had used to sleep over some nights ago. Sleep came a little too easily with full bellies. He had asked if he could sit down for a bit before heading back to his place. Because, you know, it wasn’t good if he became drowsy while driving his motorcycle. You had shrugged, casually, turning on your television to whatever late-night show was on to provide some form of mild entertainment. Distraction, really, so neither of you felt pressure to talk.

Turned out, falling asleep told you more than any conversation.

It might have been the food. The comfort of the blanket. Someone familiar being there. Whatever the cause, the stars aligned and you knew what it meant. One instance of sleep arriving quickly did not mean that you would never have a restless night again. It did not mean everything was different. But it did mean that what was already there wasn’t a lie. You thought you had done enough to spite him, but best efforts were useless in a wake of loud, hard-headed, brash Jeon Jungkook. It shouldn’t work. You were reclusive, blunt, guarded. An unfathomable match, and yet you could never seem to shake him. Apparently his fondness for you was so strong that continued meetings were inevitable. The prospect of the next time had become a regular instance. Monotone days were suddenly saturated with unexpected melodies. You kept telling yourself there was nothing else better to do than to put up with his antics.

There had been no real reason for you to believe that he would change.

He just did so he could define his own ideal of worthy.

Unconsciously, Jungkook was sinking into the cease of the sofa, into dreamlessness, taking you down with him into the cushions. You dozed practically on top of him, unknowingly nestling into his waning embrace. If you had your wits about yourself, you might have given him more conspicuous space, but he was so warm that you forgot that you didn’t typically like physical touch. Or maybe you didn’t mind as much because you knew deep down that he liked it. It was a small sacrifice for his happiness. Something like that. Ah. Right. Anyway, eventually you awoke to no-context ruckus on the television screen. Annoyed, you pawed for the remote on the coffee table and blindly turned it off. You wouldn’t have even bothered to open your eyes except for the fact that you were clearly on top on Jungkook, oh, and so you blinked slowly, line of vision shifting, realizing he wasn’t asleep.

He was pretending to be.

You placed a hand on his chest. One of his eyes cracked open. You raised an eyebrow. He almost jumped out of his skin. Probably not expecting you to be staring at him.

“Were you watching?” you asked.

“N-Not really…” Discomfort laced into his expression. “Um… You’re on my left knee a little weird.”

You shifted quickly. “Sorry.”

Relief. “No, uh, I fucked it up a bit while boxing a couple days ago,” Jungkook sighed. You could feel his inhale through your hand on his chest that you still hadn’t removed. “Think I hit it at a weird angle.”

You pointed out the obvious. “You’re not supposed to use your legs in boxing.”

He sent you the gift of a classic eye-roll complete with the bow of a scowl. “I lost my balance and fell.”

You calm expression didn’t change as you added, “Bad knees are the first sign of aging.”

His dark eyes narrowed into slits. “You–”

And proceeded to grab you by the waist. You shot up instinctively, straddling his hips, and your hand on his chest slid up. His eye went wide. He froze. You froze, realizing what you were doing. His hands were loosely around your waist with his fingers flaring out over the top of your ass. You moved your hand, resting it on his shoulder. Not on the offensive but on edge. You did your best to hold his gaze while in the precarious position. He immediately apologized.

“S-Sorry.”

“No, ah…” You shook your head. “I’m sorry.” You shouldn’t have moved to choke him out just because he was horsing around yet it was hard to really know with men these days. Still, thinking of Jungkook in that way after everything he had done for you was unfair. “I’m too used to having to protect myself.”

There was a sea of regret in those dark brown orbs. “I wasn’t going to…” Hurt you, and that part was obvious. He frowned, realizing your reaction and words said what needed to be said without saying it. “I promise. I’m not like that.”

You stared into his eyes. “I know,” and you did.

His expression became determined. “No, really.” He frowned. “I can’t help–”

You cut him off. “Is that why you have a hard-on right now?”

Dead.

Silence.

The cushions of your sofa were old, causing your knees to sink in further due to the prolonged concentrated points of pressure. You looked down. He looked up. Nobody moved. You had thought about it. Maybe. Not in any deep sense so as to not set any unrealistic expectations. He had very clearly thought about it if the rising tent of your dress in between your legs was any indication. You weren’t able to fully sit down on his crotch due to space constraints, but, even with jeans on, the distance down there was dwindling.

In short, Jungkook was obviously packin’.

You raised your eyebrows. He grimaced. He was trying not to stare at your thighs spread over him or how easily your waist fit in his hands. “Listen… Uh.” Brave of him to break the silence. “I… I’m not a disgraceful kinda guy, okay? I wasn’t planning anything. And I’m seriously serious.” His voice deepened as his eyes darted about. “Serious about…” His gaze lifted, navigating to yours.

Your lips parted, understanding him perfectly well.

However, your dress was stretching too uncomfortably. Distracted, you broke eye contact, reaching down to yank the hem from under your knee while extending your other leg to the ground to maintain balance. The fabric bunched up to your hips, draping over his lower body. You felt the friction of his jeans against your bare inner thighs. Then, you felt the friction in his jeans pressing up in between your legs.

Well.

That would be the expected result, huh.

Jungkook was beside himself. “W-W-What are you do–”

You raised your head. He stiffened. Everywhere. He was still holding you by the waist. Time was moving too fast and too slow at the same time, much like whatever this was. You made eye contact, diving into those wide eyes, searching for something to be afraid of. The scariest thing about all this was how readily he matched up with your intent to cross all the lines.

“Do you wanna kiss me?” you asked him.

His voice quivered. More out of poorly contained excitement rather than anxiousness.

“Are you crazy? Of course I wanna fuckin’ kiss you.”

There was no good reason for care-about-nothing you and caring-too-much Jeon Jungkook should match up well, and yet perhaps that was precisely the reason these puzzle pieces fit together. He lifted his torso from the sofa far too easily, meeting you halfway. With one hand on the back of the sofa and the other on his chest, your lips brushed against his. Inhale, and his warm citrusy cologne mixed with his natural scent filled your lungs. He tilted his head, closing the distance. There was no pressure of a good first kiss as it was already over with. He pulled you closer.

A kiss was not particularly special, but everything about him was.

Terrifying.

As the saying went, you felt the fear and did it anyway.

Lips to lips, electric. Your fingertips gliding over his skin, spreading the button placket before descending, unraveling him like a flower, your tongue tracing the edge of his lips. His breath hitched. His hands on your waist tighter, turning, and you adjusted accordingly, letting him sit back against the sofa with you on his lap. His fingers slid under your sweater, fanning over your back like unraveling petals as you unbuttoned his shirt, drinking in his gasps. Sinking deeper. He tugged your sweater upwards and you released him for a moment to lift your arms, arching your spine, shedding the white onto the floor. His hands on the small of your back lifted you in return, and you arrived to the view of his own white shirt barely clinging onto his shoulders, revealing tan skin and his hard work at the gym.

Your eyes trailed upwards and Jungkook hesitantly smiled, uncertain of what you were thinking.

You dipped your head and licked up his chest.

“Whoa, wha–aah, f-fuck…”

Perhaps this was a strange thought but you felt this compulsion to taste his skin. You pushed his head back and crossed his neck with kisses. Teeth. Tongue. You felt his fingertips press into your back, his hips rise, a moan bubble up in his chest. He tried to speak between gasps, his hands sliding down to your ass as you licked up to his jaw, intoxicated by the taste of his skin.

“I didn’t r-realize… o-oh…”

You flicked his earrings with the tip of your tongue, dissipating your breath so it was whisper soft against his jaw. “Deep down, you knew there was more under this surface,” you murmured and as you said it you thought of black water but the reality was reflected all over the walls, in small snapshots of mirrors from older and modern times. Yes, a mirror was the more apt imagery. Your tongue coiled around his ear, whispering his name low and slow. “You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t think you were crazy…” Jungkook gasped. He pressed you down onto his lap, hiking your dress up further. An exhale drifted past your ear. “I didn’t say I didn’t l-like it…”

With a single finger, you turned his head to face you. Half-moon eyes hazy with lust. He ticked his head, putting on the bad boy front you always knew was a front, and you rocked your hips against his to create the rhythm. He sucked in a breath, your name on the tip of his tongue, and you placed your lips against his temple to ensure that he could feel every word as much as he could hear it.

“No matter who came before you, I hope you outmatch them all.”

He viewed you from his periphery.

You smiled in a dangerous way.

There was the briefest moment where he mirrored your smirk and then he lowered his head, catching you off guard with his lips against your pulse. By instinct, your fingers laced into his black hair, tilting your head to give him more access. Your eyes wandered among the walls. In smoked glass. In craved frames. From every angle, snapshots of Jungkook kissing down your neck and you pulling the straps of your dress aside, pressing his head downwards. His lips over your collarbones created an intricate network of pinpointed pleasure, blossoming, overlapping, your nerves singing. You hooked a finger down the center of the neckline, dragging it to a risqué level. His warm breath washed over your skin.

Anticipation on a knife’s edge.

You gazed down through the shadows of your lashes. He was watching you through his own. Wondering without words. So many times Jungkook had asked for a light to ignite his addiction. You saw the writing on the wall before he did.

You tugged the top of your dress downward.

“Fuck…”

You fanned your hands over your ribs pushing your bare breasts upward. Little did he know there was a shelf bra in the dress. Probably didn’t care. He clenched his jaw and frowned slightly, his cock throbbing from below. You could feel it because you were sitting on it.

“It’s annoying that you know how hot you are. Stop knowing how to act hot too.”

You wondered if he ever looked in a mirror. “That’s rich coming from a guy that works out to make his chest big.”

He pressed his lips together before grumbling, “So…?”

You lifted you body and put your tits right in front of his face. He tried to throw you off as his lips made contact, but then was immediately distracted with the taste, running his tongue over your nipple with a moan. Strong hands on your waist again. Your own hand slid down the crown of his head, sliding in between the collar of his shirt and his shoulder muscles, caressing them as you felt sparks from his light sucking. He kissed across your chest to access the other and you breathed out, electric and erotic, your nails turning inward.

His groan was gravelly, rough from pleasure.

“Ugh, fuck, scratch me.”

You dug your nails inward and he whined into your chest, sucking harder, flicking his tongue against your nipple. You moaned to the ceiling, arching your back, and now both of your hands were on his shoulders, creating a crisscross pattern of pink under his shirt collar. There was no rhyme or reason, only instinct. Jungkook growled, taking a swift moment to yank his arms out of his shirt before pawing at your hands to explore more, touch more, repaying you with divine lips and tongue. Either he liked pain or he loved pain. Hm. You had your opinions but you kept them to yourself.

You laced your fingers into his hair, arching your back. He extended his tongue and instead of him licking upwards, you curved your body downwards, only losing contact when it was physically impossible. You lowered your head slowly. Your tongue traced your lips. He was breathing in shallow, perfumed breaths tainted with your taste. Pupils dilated. Under the influence.

You stared into his dark eyes. “You can still stop.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, right. I was in it before you were.”

He wasn’t wrong. Time moved too fast and too slow at the same time. You slid off his lap, gripping the side of your dress and pushing them down your hips. He rose, entranced, and you backed up, out of the way of the coffee table. In the room of mirrors – the living room – clothes began to slide to the floor one by one. Your tousling of his black hair had made it gone rogue, draping over his eyes as he tugged the back of his shirt out of his pants and let it fall. You took another step back while reaching forward, pulling apart his belt buckle. He glanced down as he was tugged forward. With one eye on you, he pulled the strap from the pin. You held the buckle. Pulled. He guided the black leather to smooth exit. For a few moments, you had him by the leash of his belt, dragging him into the bedroom.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

From the look on his face, he remembered.

You held onto the belt after it made its escape, twirling it around in your hand. Jungkook’s dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t.” You didn’t say anything and that was more alarming. “Do not even think about it,” he warned, his tone becoming lower, gruff. You smiled. You flicked your wrist and he halted.

You coiled the black leather around your thigh.

Tightened it by crossing the ends.

Oh, he was looking now.

“Don’t what?” you taunted, turning as you reached the end of the bed. Instead of lifting your knee to the edge of the mattress, you gripped the crossed straps of his belt and hoisted your leg upwards, adding a little bounce of your ass as you looked over your shoulder.

He didn’t expect the showmanship. His mouth squeaked out an, “Are you serious?”

Muscles, tattoos, and he still didn’t know what to do with all that. Your other hand grazed the curve of your ass to the hem of your seamless panties, hooking a finger over the edge and tugging it towards the center dip.

“Okay, fuck, you’re gonna make me bust in my damn jeans,” Jungkook muttered, looking annoyed at the tent in his pants. His hand was already undoing the button. You smiled, releasing your leg, walking over to the nightstand by the bed. The box of unused cigarettes was still there along with your lighter. You only glanced at them, dropping his belt to the side and opening the drawer, pulling out a string of condoms.

Turned around and Jungkook shot you a disbelieving look with his cock sticking out of his pants. Still in his boxer briefs, so obviously hard that he was past the open zipper. You didn’t back down, approaching him with his death sentence dangling from your fingers.

He tried not to seem flustered. “You’re busy, huh?”

You stopped in front of him, tilting in your head. “Busy waiting for you to make a move.”

He sucked the inside of his cheek. “Tch. Am I supposed to believe that?”

“You tell me.”

You sat down on the bed, placing the condoms within easy reach. Crossed your legs. Stared into his eyes, daring him to believe that you were lying. You saw bite his lip. Looking you up and down, so you did the same, watching him shove his jeans down further. You ticked your head.

“Or maybe just don’t fall for my tricks, hm?”

And you fell back onto the bed, lifting your legs, reaching under. Put your weight on your shoulders while you hooked your fingers onto the sides of your panties, pulling up, up, slipping one leg out. Then the other. Flicked your wrist and sent it flying. Then you spread your legs to reveal his stunned face.

You pulled a condom oof the line and held it out to him.

He looked uneasy, stepping out of his jeans and kicking them away. “Uh… You sure?” He tried to sound calm but his voice was shaking. He was trying to flip it on you.

You smiled. Casually. “I give you permission to find out.”

This did not ease Jungkook’s worries. He was too busy to staring at your pussy to formulate any more sentences, though. He took the condom from your hand, pushing down his black underwear. You looked. He saw you look. Confirmed that he didn’t work out because he was lacking in his pants, that was for sure. Your gaze went back to his face. He didn’t know what to think about your reaction, because you purposefully didn’t have one.

Instead of speaking, you reached down in between your legs and spread your wet lips.

Lowering your lashes. Slow smirk. Jungkook sucked in a breath and ripped open the condom. His underwear was sliding down his legs, but you were too busy being fixated on the way his arms moved, carefully rolling down the condom as he watched your fingertips trace your slit, drawing circles around your clit. The heat turned into wetness. He moved closer. You curled a leg around his hip. He put a hand on your thigh, positioning himself over you. Made eye contact. You looked back curiously, spreading the upper lips of your slick pussy.

He slid the bottom of the slick head against your clit and made you both moan from the contact.

Rubbed, slowly. Your insides throbbed with need. The lubrication made it even better. You pulled your hand back and tipped your hips upwards, and then he slid in. He gasped, his inhale catching in his throat. The hand on your leg tensed. You pressed your calf into his ass, pushing him deeper.

“F-Fuck, what–”

Your expression must have indicated that you were going to shove him in yourself, because Jungkook took one panicked glance at your face and thrust in, loudly swearing. He shut his eyes but you caught a peek of them rolling upwards as you dreamily sighed from the feeling of fullness, squeezing all around to feel more, the pressure becoming pleasure.

“You can move.” Just in case he wasn’t sure.

“Shut up,” Jungkook snapped back, shifting his hand to grab your thigh, yanking you into his crotch. He cut off his own moan by clenching his jaw. You smiled. Sweetly. He glared as viciously as he could, which wasn’t much, and thrust hard enough to make you both gasp. He was resisting from commenting about your tightness. “Stop smirking at me like that.”

You tested fate.

“Make me.”

The light was playing tricks. Or maybe his hair was casting shadows over his darkened gaze. Or perhaps this was possession of passion that made him lean down. Locked gazes. He covered your mouth with his free hand. You let him, waiting to see where this would go. He began to move. Slow, deep, building the heat between your joined bodies. Staring into your eyes, and you stared back, clenching your core to increase the unfurling bliss, so damn good, watching his lashes lower, his lips parting, heated breath drifting out like invisible smoke. You raised your hips to meet him, moaning into his palm. He bit the edge of his lower lip, the tiny mole centered underneath suddenly visible.

Your tongue traced his fingers, dripping saliva.

He spread them, entranced by the way you thrust your wet muscle in time with his hips, coiling towards the small finger tattoos you knew he had. Jungkook swore under his breath, gripping your thigh harder, but he wasn’t reaching the force you both craved. With reluctance, he removed his hand from your open mouth, watching the charming curl of your tongue disappearing in between your lips before gripping your other hip with his wet hand, cocking an eyebrow at you.

You reached back and grabbed fistfuls of your duvet, bracing yourself with an open-mouthed smirk.

He thrust hard and you rose to meet him. Both of you cried out at the radiating smack of force between bodies. Nothing for show. Just pure raw lust, chasing the high, giving into the lust. Heat into tension. Your back arched. He pulled you to him. You squeezed him all around. With each loud slap you felt pleasure ripple through your body, making your breasts bounce to his rhythm, and you let out a soft moan, sensing the ripple turning into a cascade, your insides tightening, closing your eyes once the vicious throb overtook your hips, drowning in orgasm.

“Oh, fuck–”

Jungkook didn’t even get to choke out his surprise before his own orgasm hit him. You felt his fingers dig in, snapping your bodies together. His drawn-out groan became the sonata to the punctuated sensation of inescapable euphoria. Wet. Hot. You gasped at a jolt of ecstasy rattling in your ribs. You felt his cock jerk inside you as his hold on you lessened, switching to kneading your thighs. Your brain was so hazy that his touch seemed to amplify the addictive heat, your legs closing in, keeping him in place.

“Could’ve… fuckin’ warned me…”

He panted hard, squeezing your ass roughly. You didn’t care. It was hard to when his slip to his Busan dialect was so attractive. You reveled in the bliss for a moment longer before lowering your legs, realizing the source of the heat was Jungkook whose body seemed to be ten thousand degrees. He pushed back his hair, revealing his glistening brow and cheekbones. Gasping for breath. He pulled out before stripping off the condom with a hiss.

“What am I supposed to do with–”

You sat up, using your elbows to lift your body. It was harder than you thought because the aftermath of tension had left a residual tremble throughout your nerves, but you ignored it, living on determination alone. Jungkook started, not expecting you to move so quickly. You didn’t give him time to react, reaching down between your bodies.

“A-Ah, don’t…!”

He stuttered, gasped, then moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. Slippery. Hot. Covered in lube and cum and now your fingers wrapping around his length, finding him half-hard. You gave him almost no pressure but all contact, glossing over the shaft until his cock swelled in your hand, ghosting over the head with your palm. He bit back a yelp, not yet opening his eyes, almost whining. His reaction drove you, sliding forward a bit to the very edge of the mattress. He held his breath. Snuck a peek. You angled your body to expose more of your inner thigh and lifted him.

His eyes widened.

You sandwiched his cock in between your palm and your inner thigh, sliding your body back and forth to stimulate him. He inhaled sharply, shooting you a look of indignation, and yet his hips began moving anyway. You gradually increased the pressure. His head tipped back, groaning to the ceiling, becoming harder and harder with each stroke.

You reached over to the condoms and held them out.

Jungkook lowered his head. “Seriously?”

You lifted your hand from his pulsing, wet cock. “Saying you don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that,” he retorted.

You pulled one off. He handed you the used condom. There was maybe a second and then he gave back the empty foil wrapper in which you tucked the used one into, folding it carefully so there was no spillage. It wouldn’t take long, anyway.

Part of you wanted to say that, but you held your tongue.

Hands on the back of your thighs, lifting your legs. Jungkook pinned your knees to your chest and slid back in, lowly growling, “How the fuck are you so tight,” but you were too enveloped in the sensations, wet and hard and your inner muscles closing in, molding to the shaft. The swollen head hit that depth you could really feel, and you sighed, lifting your hips. His hands slid off your legs and hit the bed, sandwiching you in between the bed and his hard chest.

Your eyes locked with Jungkook’s.

It was intense, rough, carnal. You forgot your surroundings, clutching the duvet and his tattooed forearm, matching each slap of your bodies with a breathless gasp, your calves on his shoulders, his erratic breath melting into shuddering moans. You were moving up the bed little by little from the force. Your name slipped from his lips. Your pussy clenched involuntarily and then the rapid thunderous pulse overtook your senses. He lasted a little longer this time after your orgasm, but not much longer, succumbing to the vicious call, burying his entire length inside you and gritting his teeth to muffle his moan in his chest.

It should have ended there.

You could barely breathe. Suffocating from your own thighs. After an erotic, elated eternity, Jungkook lifted his upper body, gasping apologies. You could barely hear them, orgasm still ringing in your ears, having to relax your muscles one by one. The bed was a mess. Duvet bunched up. Condom wrappers garnishing the ground. Clothes all over the floor. Your legs crossed, sliding down. Jungkook was standing somehow and you could tell that even he thought that was a miracle. He offered a hand. You took it, letting him shakily pull you up to your feet.

His breath washed over your cheek.

You looked up at him. His dark orbs shifted towards you. Waning. You tilted your head. Half-moons. Lips to lips. You drank in his exhale, kissing him deeply. Still electrified. Hands all over, igniting fire over skin. His lower body bumped up against your thigh. Slippery hardness pressing into softness. The scent of sex clung between you and him. You reached down. Touching him. Stroking his cock with your fingertips while kissing him. You felt his hand snake between your legs, sliding two fingers into you. One by one, your fingers closed in. He stroked your clit before thrusting his fingers back in, swallowing your moan into his throat. You began to slide your hand up and down. The combination of lube and cum delivered that delicious friction that he was looking for. At this point, the fervor was so intense that the pace was fierce, fast, a contest of who could get each other off faster while in lip-lock.

You shoved your tongue into his mouth.

Jungkook sucked on it, pushing a third finger into your soaked pussy, all the way up to his knuckles. You welcomed it, working his entire length, jacking him off tight and harsh, and all of a sudden he let go if your tongue, gasping with a pinched moan, his hips jerking forward. Hot spurts of milky white shot down your inner thigh. Not much, but definitely enough to witness and feel. Something inside you snapped and you had to grab his shoulder to avoid falling over, your nails digging in a halo as your pussy spasmed, sucking in his fingers with a wet squelch, your legs snapping closed to extend the feeling. Breathless moan against his ear. You leaned against him with your juices leaking down your legs and sticking to his fingers.

Delicious.

Satisfyingly ragged. Blood pumping. Both of your bodies burning, or at least yours was and his chest was alarmingly sweaty. You slowly untangled your hands from each other but they lingered low, suddenly realizing how much needed to be cleaned up.

“Uh…” Jungkook panted. “I’ll help…”

He better. “Yeah. We should, hah, clean up.” Your tongue traced your lips. “Then sleep.”

“I didn’t bring clothes,” he mumbled distractedly.

You lifted yourself from his shoulder. “I still have your sweatpants,” you reminded him.

His dark eyes slid towards you. He tried to frown. His eyes were too eager and sparkly for that. “Oh. Yeah…”

“You can go home if you want,” you offered while naked and with his cum sticking to your thigh.

He sucked on the inside of his cheek sharply. “You can’t say sleep over and then take it back.”

“Then take it in the first place.”

“I was gonna,” Jungkook snapped, and grabbed your arm, pulling you in for another kiss.

-

“Did you mean it?”

The room was relatively clean now. The trash was appropriately in the trash. The clothes had been lumped into an ambiguous pile on your dresser. Teeth had been brushed. You had set aside a spare toothbrush for his use only. Seemed appropriate. He was not wearing his sweatpants. Turned out that was not his preferred way to sleep. It wasn’t yours either. He was only in his boxer briefs and you were only in your panties. Your bodies were now minus each other’s bodily fluids.

“Mean what?”

You tried to yank the duvet into a more acceptable orientation before climbing in. After a pause, Jungkook lifted the other side and tried his best to settle in.

“That you were waiting for me to make a move.”

Tried his best because he seemed to be distracted by the conversation. You adjusted your pillow and nestled in a section of the duvet that was not that close but not too far away either. It was a king-sized one for a queen bed. Plenty of sharable coverage. You didn’t interfere with his routine and he didn’t with yours. You took the time to think.

“Hm.” It wasn’t wholly true after all. “I didn’t know if you were going to make a move or not.” He snorted under his breath but you ignored it to finish speaking. “After the first time you stayed over… It was more that I figured being prepared was better than not being prepared.”

“That’s…” He sounded uneasy.

“I can’t live hoping for something that might or might not happen,” you said without facing him.

He seemed annoyed. “Why not?”

You pointed out the obvious. “I don’t think you should change your life only to appeal to me. You should do it for yourself.”

“Well, I did,” Jungkook grumbled. He cocooned himself in a good chunk of your duvet. That was the tell of a blanket stealer. You would have to keep an eye on him. “I quit for you. It was always you. It’s happened already, so accept it.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

He grunted. “Just like how I shouldn’t have started smoking in the first place. Guess that’s the kind of shitty guy I am.”

Silence.

He wasn’t facing you. You were looking up at the ceiling. Closed your eyes because there weren’t any promises up there. The promises were always next to you. He seemed cold, but you knew better. He didn’t know how to be a cold person. He tried his best and it was a constant failure.

“Aren’t you happy you broke that people-pleasing of yours?” you asked softly.

There was a short, reluctant pause before he muttered, “You’re a butt.”

You burst out laughing. Big, muscly, tattooed man curled up in bed with you retorting with a child’s insult was too funny. Jungkook growled, rolling over to shake your shoulder with contained fury. You kept laughing even when he gave up and took the pillow out from under him, repeatedly bopping your torso and legs with it. There was no strength behind it. Plenty of salt, though. You opened your eyes mid-snicker and looked over to him. His arm was extended over to you. His black hair was all over the place. He shook his head like a Doberman and scrunched up his face. Frowning. On the verge of a pout, really. He could have looked madder. He would never make it as an actor. Your laughter died out.

“You were gonna totally back off if I didn’t have condoms?” you teased.

He looked exasperated. “Seriously? I’m not some untrained dog who hasn’t eaten in days! You… There’s plenty of other choices we have! I’m a good guy!”

You smiled. “I know.”

He immediately stopped protesting. It was as if all the fight drained out of him. There was a whole universe in those big dark brown eyes. And then it occurred to you that, back then, Jungkook could never quite meet your eyes even though he was always looking your way. Every day came with a dark night. He would ask you, got a light, and you would hold up the flame, shining light into those dark eyes when he used to lean in.

It was strange, then, to see the light that was there when now his eyes locked with yours.

No lighter required.

“You really tried to pass off as a bad guy. Almost fooled me, even.”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “Ugh, fuck you.”

“You did,” you quipped.

Jungkook flung the pillow behind him and scooted alarmingly close. You instinctively tried to move out of the way but there was no more bed to escape to. His strong arms wrapped around your shoulders and dragged you back to him, threatening you with, “Shut up. I’m hugging you.”

You failed to listen. Classic. “I didn’t ask to be hugged.”

There was a foreign tingling feeling that raced all over your skin. Not from the physical closeness, but from the other kind of closeness. You felt your shoulder bump against his firm chest. He even threw his leg over your hip and yanked your legs closer, cocooning you with his frame. You almost thought he was trying to extend the night.

Instead, he simply latched onto you like a barnacle.

“I don’t care. I’m a bad guy. Hmph.”

Quiet.

You placed your hand on his forearm just under your breasts. This was going to become very hot and sweaty in the long run. But you let it be. You didn’t want to let go either, even though you weren’t exactly doing the holding on. You used your other hand to drag the duvet back up under your chin. He didn’t stop you. You felt him squeeze you a little tighter once you were comfortable, as if to confirm. You patted his arm.

“Your hand is too hot,” he complained in a mumble by your ear.

“That sucks,” you said and didn’t move it. He didn’t try to shrug you off either. “I’ll make your steak tomorrow.”

He pretended to gnaw on your shoulder. “We can’t have steak for breakfast.”

“Why not? We’re adults.”

“That isn’t what adults do.”

“Then I give up on being an adult.”

“Me too,” he huffed. He perched his chin by your head. “Alright, I’m down.”

You debated on telling him. Telling him why you purchased the lighter in the first place. Even before him, it constantly stayed in your pocket. It only came out on the darkest nights when the insomnia was the worst. A flame and a human life followed the same trajectory. At night was when the flame danced the brightest. You would watch the flame dance. Contemplated. Extinguished it. You even did your due diligence of refilling it when it was low. When Jeon Jungkook appeared in your life, you ignited the flame for him without much thought. That was, after all, the intended use the lighter. It made sense to use it as such. You found yourself reaching for it less because, well, what if you ran into him? He would always ask and you would always provide. When he had handed you his barely-used pack and said he was done, you too gradually began to leave the lighter behind. The two objects had begun to collect dust night after night. Untouched. Originally your lighter wasn’t for him, and yet.

That small flame had led him to you.

The universe planned well.

“Hey, Jungkook?”

“Uuh?” He sounded very sleepy and not quite conscious.

“My lighter was for you, after all.”

“Mmmm…” He nestled closer and squeezed your arm. “That’s good.”

You smiled as he drifted off to sleep. He still snored, although less intensely. His grip on you relaxed but was no less meaningful. Slowly, the exhaustion caught up to you, and you went willingly, following Jeon Jungkook’s path to dreams. You would have to get used to this new routine of the night.

--

masterpost

[hoardlikegoldenirises]

This is a NSFW parksborn puppy play doodle dump, ft. both concepts for gear and also just plain old horny drawings.

I wrote that puppy play fic and now I am ill, I think—with puppy peter fever,

(there's a separate post for the safe-for-work drawings on that second page of doodles: link)

This is all slapped together so some closeups after the readmore, focusing on the less-than-safe-for-work images:

I'll start off with some of the sillier drawings:

this ⬇️ is a little doodle-comic of what probably happened immediately after they finished their little uh, play session in the fic.

not really a puppy related drawing other than addressing the fact that Peter "Daddy Dom" Parker is extremely embarrassed by what he just did... I will be honest, I kind of approach all instances of Peter subbing as involving inevitable sub drop. He just doesn't deal well with submission, after-the-fact, even when it's cathartic for him.

Goofy x Horny double combo—

also more sub drop. i was just having fun with little doodles. if i actually write anything about Peter's aftercare needs in this context it will be, like in other contexts I have written it, much less silly.

HORNY:

hi 🥴

and some uh. dog bone gags 😳 don't judge me.

one, an actual gag made for humans, and the other, me looking at a chew toy and thinking to myself, they could probably fit that in Peter's big mouth. for when he won't shut the fuck up.

all you need is a spring lock and suddenly it's adjustable, amiright?

he's still topping here btw. not that i drew the rest of what's happening. but. probably topping. or getting a bj idk.

Harness and collar concepts ahoy:

Peter's day collar. It's heavily based off of this collar (sfw link btw it's just petco LOL) by Le Dog Company, but I wanted to make it more padded under the buckle. I do like that the strap just says "Le dog" though like. Yeah. And you can see his little name tags and stuff.

probably the inside is like a nice caramel color, rather than black or anything, but i didn't color that part.

and I decided that they'll never go beyond "training" or other non-ownership collars. i don't think he'd be okay with extending even pretend ownership outside of actively having sex tbh. they're extremely not following "old guard traditions" here. peter owns himself and all of his gear, no exceptions

concept for harness to match, courtesy of Felicia, and just. photos of one of the leashes. i didn't feel like drawing it. not pictured: 9 footer (another petco link lol) — I think I like the way the 4 foot leash looks better, esp since it matches the collar better imo, but I figured. maybe sometimes they would want a 9 foot leash. I mean. Is Harry taking Peter on walks, No, but, you know, could be useful.

Harness is the same color as the collar, I just made it lighter in this pic so you can see the actual details. It's loosely based on some leather harness I saw but slightly different.

...

I also wanted to add some bonus sets which are probably gifts from Felicia, though I'm sure Harry could afford more, but *waves my hand* Felicia likes to tease Peter—

*loudly clears my throat* It's uhh, you know, I just like pink. yeah. I mean normally I put Flash in pink for gender-y reasons I think most people are aware of at this point, but I just. Happened to see a picture of a cute pink mesh dog harness while looking for inspiration, and, well, it got away from me a little bit,

not for gender reasons, particularly, mostly just for horny reasons 😂

this one is obviously stealing I mean taking heavy inspo from the irl dog harness but also from some other stuff, like safety vests and what have you. And I decided I wanted it to have nylon straps with a cinch instead of a normal buckle because............ conceptually, I find that sexy, for some reason LOL idk it's the physicality or something. the combo of industrial hardware with girly aesthetics. just really strapping him into this thing.

also yeah i designed this one to not be easily removed (or put on) by the wearer themself, also for horny reasons. requires a helper to put on and take off, though Peter is probably flexible enough he could take it off by himself if he needed to get out in a pinch.

........does this qualify as sissification? probably. who can say,

anyway the collar is based on those thousand different kinds of customizable rhinestone collars where you can get your pet's name, or "cum slut" or whatever, spelled out in bejeweled charms. but made with like, slightly higher quality materials. like suede, heavy duty hardware, cubic zirconia or something, etc... I came VERY close to putting something vulgar but settled on just Peter's name and the hearts instead.

In my head, Felicia thinks she's very, very funny for giving this pink set to Peter.

don't be such a wet blanket Peter.

no, i do have a scenario in my notes involving him trying this on and enjoying it a little bit more than he intended to... not because of him having a secretly girlish nature so much as uh the opposite, so. you know, like i said, it might qualify as sissification/force femme, but idk. i just like it...

harry would also be cute in this... also flash... really any of the gang. full CBG matching bubblegum pink kink wear, now there's a thought 😂 mj would probably get a kick out of that

swarovski crystal... i wanted a D-ring on both the front and the back (for versatility) and it happened to also be a useful place to hang a cute little charm.

And now for something on the complete opposite end of the aesthetic spectrum, and probably more Felicia's style than anything else in this post.

Anyway, the other bonus from Fel (or possibly just Peter and Harry buying it). Sometimes Peter is naughty... or, you know, combining his top and dom instincts with submission and bdsm—a bad dog who bites. muzzle optional. tbh idk how hardcore Harry is but Peter likes this stuff (in my mind) so I figure it would make sense. More BDSM looking than doggy at this point but, you know, the spiked collar and a very short (like a foot or two at most) chain leash. plus muzzles.

went for two different muzzles—the medical padded style that is on its own pretty intense, with a little snap so it can attach to the O-ring on the front of the collar instead of having its own attached collar (see, O-ring not just aesthetic lol) and the other one is a more dog-like muzzle, with the metal basket. Both would probably be custom, esp if they're from Felicia, though i guess with the right needle and stuff Peter could probably modify a stock padded muzzle on his own... so maybe only the metal one is custom. who knows.

Obv the leather padded one is way more of a muzzle that makes it so you can't speak easily, or bite or eat or anything else, plus it has its own D-ring for extra bondage lol— vs the basket muzzle which is mostly aesthetic and to prevent biting. lol.

there are 500 harnesses that look almost exactly like this on etsy. can't beat the classics i guess. didn't bother drawing seams but this is definitely reinforced, though none of it's padded except where it needs to be for durability.

butt. all of the harnesses like this i saw also have that kind of rubber handle on the back. it's not like Harry can really tug Peter around that much even if Peter didn't have super strength, but, i have to include nice handles on all of these for the aesthetic/sex appeal. it's about the implication.

my real motivation for making this one unpadded (aside from, I guess, being less gentle) was cause I wanted all the spike rivets and other hardware to be skin-contact. aka: put the collar in the fridge for some temperature play LOL 🥶❄️ obv it would warm up fast but, appealing mental image,

i also thought it would be fun if it had some warning patches they could put on it, so I sketched a couple of those. I think Peter could make or modify something like this very easily lol. these could probably be put on the other harnesses too. or like on the shoulder straps. full kit w/ muzzle + spiked collar + harness + chain leash + caution patches is definitely... a thought...

[kureis-writing-hell]

YOU AND HIM - Pre-Canon Chisaki Kai x Masc!Reader

I did not think I will finish this today. I need to go to work. H.

Rating: M, Minors DNI. Nothing explixit happens but it got a sexual undertone. The reader is a hero, masc but GN. You're thinking about how you met Kai and what your relationship with him looks like.

It's my first work of this kind and tbh I'm gonna do more!

You're Kai's personal annoyance for years now. How? Why? You ask this yourself every day.

Nah, that's a joke. You're just this good in bed!

There are two ways to put Chisaki Kai in the mood and you have mastered both of them.

Honestly, it wasn't easy. You had to get close to Chisaki first, which was basically impossible. He always had that guard dog Kurono around himself back then. But you're stubborn, especially when you want something. Or someone. And if said someone had a pretty face, fluffy hair, long lashes and golden eyes you would do anything to get them for yourself.

You guess Chisaki saw a good business in you when you finally managed to corner him. He's a good head shorter than you but you can clearly remember how calm he looked back then. He was perfectly sure that you couldn't even touch him, and you knew why. You did your homework. You knew to avoid those deadly palms.

He thought he was getting an errand boy back then. A street rat who could do some dirty job for him, while he stayed behind, clean and pristine. It was a few years ago after all, Chisaki was still trying to find his place in Shie Hassaikai. He thought he's the most intelligent guy in the world too. Oh how good he looked when he found out that the truth was quite the opposite!

You played his game for a little bit. You knew you had to, otherwise you wouldn't be able to learn more about him. You discovered how much he hated quirks. You tried to figure out how far you could push him too. Despite him thinking that you worked for him, he allowed a lot, as if nothing ever could get to him. But oh, you could be annoying, back then and nowadays. It's an art you mastered perfectly.

Today you think that Chisaki underestimated you since the first day you two met. The overconfident prick disregarded you, your quirk and anything tied to you, that's why he didn't run a simple background check. It was a basic mistake, Chisaki was still learning, still couldn't figure people out that well and he was too sure everyone would follow him to be cautious. You're very glad you were the person who taught him that lesson. It's something you would never admit out loud but you wouldn't want him to get betrayed by someone worse than you.

Which you did, you guess, back then. You had your fun with Chisaki for two months then, you got under his skin constantly but slowly learned your ways around his mysophobia and aversion to quirks and other people. It was going well. You could see that Chisaki was starting to trust you. And then that annoying guard dog Kurono made his own move.

He found out, and told Chisaki, that you're a hero.

A big no no for Chisaki and you knew that. You two even fought. It was something you'd rather avoid because you knew how good Chisaki was and how temperamental he was (is) and you'd rather avoid dying. He still had a lot to learn and you were good too though. You pinned him on the ground, hands above his head and managed to hold his glare. He couldn't even hide the betrayal back then and you guess that's what pulls you towards him. For someone who wants to make yakuza great again he's certainly too naive.

You left back then, to give him a bit of space. You focused on your hero work. Except for a few petty crimes and some fights Chisaki didn't do any real harm to people, he didn't even like to use his quirk when it wasn't necessary, so you saw no point in reporting him. You still wouldn't, but for fairly different reasons.

First time you two kissed was when you met the next time. It was an unexpected meeting. You were running around on your daily patrol when you saw Chisaki, together with Kurono and some blonde new guy with glasses walk out of a shop. You stopped and glared, wondering about the new guy, and you're still pretty touchy about Shin. Chisaki saw you, at first disregarded you as some annoying hero and then obviously caught up on who's standing there.

Kurono started barking around, wanting to protect his boss like a good guard dog, but Chisaki sent him and Shin away. You were surprised that he wanted to talk. He was obviously angry when he was leading you into a more secluded alley. He kept ranting about honestly everything, keeping you confused until he focused on you again.

You're still not sure what pushed you to kiss him. Maybe you were aware that nothing could make this situation worse, so you tried to take all you could. Maybe you saw something in his cold eyes. Who knows. But you still grabbed him when he paused his rant and pressed your lips to his.

One thing you forgot at the time was his mask. You ended up kissing him through the cloth. And at the moment you thought you really will die.

Chisaki made the most adorable, surprised sound, then seemed to relax just for a few seconds before pushing you away. He immediately threw his mask off, gagged, then looked at you incredulously. What an amazing reaction to being kissed, huh?

"At least it's out of the way now," you half joked then. Then, before his dumbstruck brain could catch up you proposed a date. And then, not waiting for him to reject you, you tossed him time and place and left the alley.

He showed up - or rather waited for you to show up. It was a disaster. And your last official date.

It was also just the start of your mutual story. Chisaki still refuses to ‘date’ you, but he’s happy to moan under you every time you come around. He won’t go to a restaurant with you anymore, but, sometimes, will eat take out with you and watch a bad movie on your TV and then cuddle with you while asleep even though he refuses to admit it in the morning.

Which takes you to the substance. Putting Chisaki Kai in the mood.

Back on that date you discovered he loves to be pampered. Nothing makes him melt into your arms as well as a scalp massage, or soft praises or kisses on his neck. Neck and ear especially. He will blush like a tomato, huff at any remark about it and then lean just slightly against you, so you could continue. And he’s very… sincere in those moments. You love it. He could be a scary street thug daily, with his gang and impossible quirk, but in your hands he’s just another young adult, chasing pleasure. And he is still getting better and better for you. Bareilly a few months ago, when you were especially mushy and sweet with him, he rewarded you with riding your dick for a good portion of the night.

And oh, how beautiful he was. Muscles moving, body shaking, the little jolts and moans he made. You still can’t think about it in public.

Now, the other way to get him to spread his legs for you is a bit tricky.

Chisaki is proud. Always was. He’s often stressed and his untreated mysophobia doesn’t help. And you got a very bad, even rotten tongue. And you’re a hero! The list of your crimes against Chisaki goes on and on and so it’s very easy for you to piss him off.

It’s not that you do that intentionally too. You just tease, and you do that naturally. Then he gets mad. And then you have to act fast if you don’t want to end the night alone with a box of tissues.

You found out that side of Chisaki when you two had one of your fights. He was angry already when you showed up, in one of your secret meeting love hotels - his least favorite one. His mysophobia was acting up but he refused to tell you what happened. He was being difficult, you got annoyed, you two started arguing. It quickly shifted to some sparring and you already knew this night he will leave you alone. Then, you pinned him to the carpeted floor, right by the bed, face to the floor. You started saying some angry blabber but then noticed he wasn’t listening to you. Stopped fighting even. His eyes were focused on something under the bed, his face was pale, and you quickly checked what it was.

An used condom.

Assuming Chisaki would start puking in a second - you considered it yourself - you let him go and lifted him from the floor. The frustration was gone, you started worrying now, until you saw the tent in his pants.

How? You still wonder oh so often. Chisaki that you knew would throw a tantrum and burn the place to the ground, but it didn’t happen. Chisaki kept refusing to address the topic. You were curious but fine with it. After all, it opened a new door for you.

He loves filthy sex. There's not always a time and place for it, but when he's difficult, or when you say two words too much, you can always easily turn it sexual. You still keep testing the boundaries. For example spitting in his mouth while he fights against it makes his dick twitch and ooze precum. But talking about piss turns him off. This side of his sexuality makes him so perfectly ashamed too. He always complains about it, always refuses and fights but always lets you do your thing. And he never overhauled you before, either. Not when you made him lick your shoes, not when you pushed your cum-covered fingers into his mouth.

There’s no safe words between you two, after all. Only the risk of dying every time you push his boundaries and god, does it rile you up!

When you first saw Chisaki Kai you thought that he’s going to be a fun, little side toy. Inexperienced and vanilla. He was barely twenty then, after all. Now? Now you’re invested and excited and protective over him even.

And you fear that if he knew that, he would really overhaul you for good.

[threadsun]

Ah, so you DO think I’m a brat and not a needy little sub then~! Hehehe, caught you there sunspot~! >w> You can praise me all you want, but don’t think I didn’t notice~ But I must ask, how well do you tbh you’re breaking me so far, because from where I’m sitting, I’m not a babbling mess at your feet. Also, I’m curious, what kinks do you think I have other than the ones I’ve specifically mentioned? I wanna see how well you REALLY got me figured out here~ You don’t have to MAKE me shut up, if you rile me up enough I do it myself because I can no longer think coherently and can only cry out~ I’ve only gotten to that point ONCE before and that’s when I had someone’s body weight pinning my chest down completely in bed as they screwed me while the edge of the pressed nicely enough against my neck from my head being thrown over it. Combining that with some Closer by NIN and the blood rushing to my head from it being upside down, I couldn’t help all the animalistic mewls and whines that came out~ I didn’t even know I could make sounds like that, much less stop rambling a whole bunch of filthy phrases. It’s ironic really, when I’m scared, I talk NON-STOP instead of scream, but when I’m feeling the best pleasure I’ve ever received in my life, I scream~ Speaking of NIN, love me some Deftones, Sleep Token, and Queen of the Damned to get lost in~ (*coughdoingalapdanceforJoesphorJacktoMagdalenabyAPerfectCircleCOUGH*) But sorry, I’ve got no discipline in my life and I’m VERY greedy, so of course I’d want to know more~ I really love to dig DEEP and find out all that I can so I’m not left in the dark, know what I mean? Well, whether it’s be singing or crying, I’d be more than happy to perform for you sometime~ Of course that is IF you make me submit, but I’m still standing so~! Also, you’re making it sound like I’m a horny slut who loves this kind of stuff and would take any chance I could get to get off from it, but nope! Totally not the kind of woman that makes partners who boast how they’d do it all the time if they could, but just never had someone who matched up with question if their sex drive is ACTUALLY high because of how insatiable I am~

OOOO HELL YES! BARK BARK BARK!! LOVIN’ IT! “Aww Sunshine, look at this big mess you’ve made! You’ve really went overboard this time, huh? I mean, your bed is absolutely soaked sunspot! Don’t you know how impolite it is to ruin gifts from your best friends just because you’re too impatient to wait for a thick cock to fill you up?” He pushes your head into the wet, matted fabric, leaving your backside exposed and high in the air for him to press against. “It’s okay y/n, I’ll teach you how to wait obediently like the good puppy I know you can be! You know I don’t really want to scold you…I only want to give you all the love and attention after all! But you understand why I have to punish you, right puppy? Don’t want you to think you’re the leader of the pack now just because we spoil you so much~” A loud thwack echoes through the firehouse as his hand connects to your behind, a sharp stinging sensation left in its wake. You can see S pop in from around the corner before he shakes his head disapprovingly, a cheshire grin crossing his features. Jack’s voice catches your off guard as you feel his breath on your ear “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you’re the most well-behaved dog in no time~”

YES TO COCK WARMING! Cock warming at the desk, cock warming in the fire truck, cock warming at the local expo, cock warming at the bar run by Nick on the side after a long day at work, cock warming at lunch break, honestly at this point you’d be the firehouse monkey with how much your clinging on these guys 24/7 😂

Having a great support system definitely helps when exploring what you want to do with your life or just learning who you are in general! I’m glad that you were able to find happiness in your life and satisfaction as to where you are now. It must’ve been so nerve wracking when you first brought up what you wanted to do as a career, so to hear that it all went well is extremely great to hear! 😊 As for performing, it’s alright. If I continued down that path, I would’ve never got to experience what I have like working at Disney World for a good while or living in different places across the country. Do I miss it? Of course I do, especially more recently as I’ve had to readjust my dreams (POTO closing on Broadway, learning that I’m super allergic to everything in Florida including chlorine, so no being a Disney princess or professional mermaid for me!) But I could at least find some more small local shows to do instead of larger productions and get back into singing lessons again to get my voice back in tip-top shape! Thank you for your concern though 🩵 Gotcha gotcha when it comes to googling kink events!

OH! I think that the Franklin Institute might have one of those since they have a whole exhibit about electrcity, cause, ya know, Ben Franklin, a museum named after him. You’d think that it’d be there when it first opened in 1931, but nope! Didn’t come around until a couple of years ago 😂 That place is so freaking cool though with a giant heart you can walk through, the second oldest planetarium in the western hemisphere, and a whole bunch of interactive exhibits! Plus, the building is really pretty! Apparently it opened in 1825, but didn’t become a hands-on museum until 1931. Sorry, history and architecture nerd, but anyways! I think I saw them talk about that machine on their website so I’ll try to swing down there! Also, that arts and crafts fair sounded like tons of fun! I’m glad you and Moon had such an awesome time together! 😊

I agree! I mean, unless they have the files of the entire story stored into their computer or can see into the future, I hope they can step back a bit and realize how rude they’re being to the team. Theories, headcanons, and fanfics, but they shouldn’t be law and especially shouldn’t be shoved into the teams face as fact. Respect goes both ways, but honestly, it’s reminding me of Disney twitter and how some people were upset because a trash can design changed. A TRASH CAN!!!

I really should be keeping all that information top secret, but I just can’t help it spilling out~ Thank god you can’t see my face or it’d absolutely be worse. I can be way too damn expressive at times and I’ve been told I suck at lying so 👀 But in any case, yup! Totally not giving you any of that info! I don’t need to submit and obey and say everything that would help turn me into a mindless f toy, no way~

-🎃

I think you want to be a brat, and I think you do a very good job of pretending you are. But I think you've been disappointed too many times and are too desperate for real domination to actually be a brat when faced with the promise of a real dom. For now. I think you'd make an excellent brat once you're satisfied~ As for your other kinks, well... exhibitionism is a given, being the centre of attention and putting on a pretty little performance for people who are absolutely insatiable for you. Perhaps even being the pretty little centrepiece at a kinky party, letting people use and abuse you all night for their amusement and your pleasure. All tied up and at their mercy, a nice tray of spanking implements balanced on your back while the guests take turns making your ass into a mess of bruises and marks. You'd get punished if you dropped the tray, of course. Predicament play is fun, especially when you're being punished for things beyond your control. There's also free use and 24/7 dynamics. In an ideal world, having the perfect dom who would keep you submissive to them forever and use you whenever they're in the mood. Their pretty, captive princess~

Yes!!!!! You understand the vision!!!!! Jack would simply be such a good dog trainer!!! I just think that being the station puppy would mean you were getting fucked like.... 90% of the time. Which is ideal!!

Yeah, it wasn't the easiest conversation, but thankfully it went well!! My parents were concerned at first that I only wanted to do sex work because I felt like I had no other options, but once I explained that I do have other options and just really enjoy it, they were happy for me!! Those sound like very worthwhile experiences, I'm glad you can make the most of these things! And getting involved in local things like theatre productions is always very nice, it helps build community and everything!

Oooooh nice, that sounds cool!!! I love history and architecture so I never mind people telling me cool facts about them!! I'd definitely suggest going there to see how you feel generally about electricity. It's a good way to get an idea of what it feels like without having to be in a sexual situation. Thanks!! We had a lot of fun, I bought some scented candles and Moon got me a little crocheted otter that I named Flumps!!

Oof yeah, people can just get super entitled and toxic tbh. Over the silliest little things, too. I don't get why someone would join the yandere community if they're not okay with finding out a yandere character is into sadism and degradation? Like it's fine if those kinks aren't your cup of tea, but they should be kind of expected. And respected, characters can have kinks that you personally don't, but people don't seem to be able to handle that.

It's cute, how eager you are to tell me all the ways to make you melt for me~ You just want to not have to think, to let me take control. And you know the best way to do that is to tell me what you want!

[drummerdaines]

HEADCANON DUMP

a collection of andy's headcanons from her original blog complied into one post

sometimes, andy will see an adroable baby / kid and be struck with 'you know what? having a kid wouldn't be so bad after all', more so when vuglar crown takes off and she no longer works for a kids toy store where a few kids will make her go 'nope, that's right, i don't want them'

blood k!nk

if she applied herself, andy would have been a jock but she never tried out for sports - she was going too but meet her boys and decided they were better than sports

Andy not having a good sleep schedule being able to sleep well until she is like 15 when she starts staying over at her boys homes / she just ends up falling asleep at their homes because she feels safe emotionally there compared to her own home...

andy and storm have been to a few warped tours

HIGH risk of entering the 27 club

it's the fact that henry before she let's herself be loved, is her only ever boyfriend. anyone in between are flings / hook ups - nothing ever serious because andy could never tie herself down like that and set herself up for that kind of heartache

andy will never forgive her parents, not her mother, not her father, nor not her step mother

andy first had sex when she was 16/17 with her then boyfriend henry

andy is the short people who, if you use them as a rest / to lean on, they will hit you / elbow you / curse at you - so be warned

reminder, if you see andy's soft side, she trusts you ; which is a lot bc she doesn't trust a lot of people, especially to let down her guard. it even took a long while for her guard to come down completely around her sister

since she was fourteen, andy has not spent a single christmas with her family. maybe would have gotten a call into evanie - but, otherwise she nopes the fuck out of the houses for nearly 48 hours

andy maybe a bitch, andy maybe a hardass, andy may be the kind of person who says she doesn't want kids but god me damed if a kid hands her a fake phone and she doesn't pretend to answer it. she will, she does like kids and entertaining them - just, she doesn't want them or feel like she would be a good mother

Andy def is a heavy handed pourer

andy calling the band her own little addams family not nesseicaly bc they’re like the addams like appearance / aesthetic wise, but bc the dynamic they’ve made with each other, with the unconditional love and support for each other is what reminds her of the family, and she craves it... also she would hurt anyone for her boys

andy WILL throw hands with you if you come at her with anything christmas-y

is there a high change that andy has cried while watching an iteration of the addams family ( media before 2010 ), where andy when thinking about them too much cried because she wanted a family like that, a family who accepted her differences and who just loved her unconditionally? yes.... 

if andy see’s haley ( storm’s ex ) on the street - someone better hold on tight to her arm, bc andy will fight her

one day, andy will straight up just play the drums in her underwear on stage ; just to piss off those people who would judge her for what she wears ( like either too much or too little )

one thing you got to know when dating andy is... no, she will not love you more then her boys. i’m sorry, but they’ll always be a 3way tie for her. the only thing that could knock that down is a pet ( cat or dog tbh )

If she wasn't a drummer, Andy probably would have gone into wrestling

andy loves horror films

she loves scare parks / mazes and isn’t jump scared easy but when she is - she’s a puncher

andy is one of those short people who will and is bitter about being short. so not make a joke about it, she will come for your knee caps

is andy like 5′2? yes. does she like being the big spoon? hell yes

Andy is the kind of person to refuse to admit she's cold even if she's shivering up a storm

Andy, across all socials ( twitter, insta, tiktok ): andydaines Andy also as a private ones, which is her bandmembers only ( maybe eventually select others close to her ): drummerdaines

Andy watched Deathgasm, then made the rest of the band watch it.

Around 16/17, Andy dated a guy named Henry. This caused Alan's harassment of her to get heavier. They dated for 5 months, they broke up when he said he loved her - she, dumped him the next day. Then, its two weeks later, she has her breakdown mentioned in her bio bc Alan somehow got worse in that time period

this just in, andy can not do death. but like specifically of her boys or sister... those would wreck her. like break her or shatter her to a million pieces

andy likes halestorm

she’ll never admit it, but, andy has a praise kink. tell her she’s good at making your feel good. tell her what she’s doing to great.

tbh. if you’re friends with andy - you have scary dog privileges bc boy is she a handful and will hurt anyone who hurts those she cares about

andy ends up getting a sword on her sternum for her 21st birthday

i know i’ve said this before, but andy has many many photos of her bandmates looking silly / goofy and honestly at times outright awful. she has them sectioned off into folders. so one of storm, jamie and mac, then a folder for pairs and then all three of them - and yes has some of her own bc she likes to laugh at herself sometimes. she does have them of evanie too but not as much but it will get to the same amount as her bandmates - watch her over the years that they mend the relationship

andy is the kind to give the silent treatment at someone she is upset with or angry with

andy did not like, haley - always felt this off vibe from her but because storm had looked happy, didn’t say anything, so of course when they broke up, andy was happy - only for seconds later needed to be held back when finding out that storm broke up with her because she had been using him. and yes, at the time andy would have been sixteen

andy is a bitter, everyone she has known has at least one story about her biting them or biting at them, whether it’s because they put their fingers to close to her face when she’s in a mood, because she just felt like it - or it was her way of saying she was mad at them ( which generally gets resolved )

how to have andy putty in your hands? serenade her with gnr, even if you suck at singing / playing instruments 

the first like couple of times that any of her bandmates genuinely complimented her or told her she was good enough, or that they cared and loved her, andy felt like crying her eyes out. because it wasn’t something she heard often until them

she nearly cried in front of evanie the first time it happened when they were mending their relationship 

andy has 100% stolen items of clothing from all her bandmates. she needs something, she picks it up and wears it - not caring whose it is

andy tends to sleep in an old gnr shirt that she’s had for a a couple of years & underwear

has gotten changed in front of her bandmates bc she doesn’t care about the whole ‘you should change in a different room bc you’re a girl’ bullshit. if she needs to get changed, she will get changed

Andy has a stuffed toy she got when she was a kid, still has it and no one knows about it. I mean, not even Storm who can weasel anything out of her. It was from when she doesn't remember being the outcast of the family, so it's tied with the once happy family that she very briefly had.

andy is honestly scared of love, of falling into love, it kind of scares her to no end because there will always be that deep rooted fear that while she will give them her whole heart, they would find someone better than her, and leave her - and she doesn’t want to put herself through that

6 months is roughly how long it took since Andy and Evanie starting to mend ( like fully) their relationship for Andy to let her two worlds meet ( her band and her sister ) officially. Once again, she never fully separated them, always spoke about the other to the other, just didn't have them meet for a while. Bc in doing so was opening up a side of her, to Evanie that her sister hadn't seen before, more carefree and more herself as that is how her boys make her feel

andy is fascinated by the butterfly effect, and theories around it

andy loves horrors, in fact loves watching the stupid cheesy ones - those are her favourite 

if andy’s honest, she will probably not cry over her parents death when it happens right away. like sure they’re not the best especially to her as the did favour evanie. but like, she’d break at the loss of never getting and never going to get that kind of attention even though she acts like she doesn’t care about her parents or that she doesn’t care that they don’t love her - but, there is that part of her that craves is deep down in her, like she wishes she wasn’t the screw up in the family.

she would avoid this breakdown around evanie, it would probably happen around either storm, jamie or mac, and it’s be like days or a weeks later

andy... just has  collection of silly photos of all her bandmates, and her sister. refuses to delete them bc they’re funny. and yes, sorted by bandmate

while, andy will automatically recognise welcome to the jungle from just one note or just the drums pretty instantly, when it comes to just guitar or bass... it’s a tad but longer then it would drums, she will get it pretty quickly

to spite her step mum, who wants her to be girly and all that, her own mother kinda gave up on that and focused on evanie. andy would blast songs like Animal ( I fuck like a beast ) by W.A.S.P,  A Little Piece of Heaven by A7X, anything her step mum would say is too ‘vulgar’ for a young girl to listen too

She hates the smell of lavender. She can not stand it, it makes her gag - this is due to her step mum using it to try and make Andy more ‘girly’. It was constantly sprayed on her, and within Andy’s room

She has, as of right now three tattoos. A rose on her inner upper left arm that takes up pretty much the space from her pit to the elbow. A stick ‘n poke Heart and star that she did herself on her left and right hip, and she got the middle finger being pulled on her left calf, it was a small flash design

I’ve named the guy who was harassing her from 15 till roughly 18. His name is Alan Cassner, in the year above her. He had taken Andy saying no to him, as a challenge rather then her simply saying no. would resort to slut shaming Andy when he didn’t get his way. Often claiming she was only friends with Jamie, Mac and Storm so she can sleep with them. One time, he tried to feel her up - and she punched him ; she got detention for it and her parents grounded her for it.

She hates her costumer service voice ; it’s always like three octaves higher then her usual speaking voice. and don’t get her started on entitled parents - she can’t wait until the band pops off and can put Retail aside

one time, a guy quizzed andy on guns and roses because she wore their shirt. got told she was wearing it to impress the guys ( referring to her friends aka her bandmates ). she knew her friends wanted to step in, but she had it. she answered all the questions, and threw her own. she received a high five from storm when she managed to make the guy fumble because she asked a question that was meant to make him stuff up - and he did and she called him out on his bullshit and told him to never fucking do that shit again, because it doesn’t fucking matter - a shirt is a shirt.

andy loves the song welcome to the jungle by guns and roses, and loves playing it on her drums. in fact, it’s her go to song when she’s upset and is playing her drums. she can recognise the song by just the drums alone

andy maybe the youngest of the band but, she will not hesitate to stand up for her bandmates. which is ironic as she has had a hard time doing so for herself and the band ended up helping her with that.

as much as she loves her sister, she hasn’t told her about the stalker guy from high school - that was just her band mates that know about that. she will tell her eventually

there was a moment, where andy’s drumkit had been broken, everyone suspected it was the guy harassing her. andy cried at seeing it. storm brought her a new one

being the only female in a band of guys / those guys being her best friends for years, there have been people who have accused andy of having slept with one or all of them. one time when someone did this, andy punched the person in the face because they were implying she was ‘easy’ as she hung around guys a lot, and not girls.

[shoyouth]

Hello again! So i have this idea, could i request a hc when mc is being particularly clingy with them? Like, ask to cuddle a lot or backhugs on the living room or when they go about their day, etc? She just feels very needy that day 😂 thank you! And i love your writings so much, it made me smile a lot :)

Hello, my friend! This is such a cute request tbh, ty for sending it in! And aww thank you so much, that makes me so happy to hear 😁💞

napoleon ; he loves it. If you’re not normally clingy, the first time you give him a hug he watches you amusedly, inquiring as to why. But in the morning especially, when you aren’t pulling away from his embrace so adamantly, when you aren’t scolding him to get up but instead linger and return his kiss sweetly—he’s reminded why he loves sleeping in so much, and why he loves you. He could definitely get used to this.

arthur ; will tease you. Instantly. He has that little grin on his face and he catches your hand before you can snatch your hug and leave, and he pulls you right back in to his hold. Though he really is all bark and no bite; the second he has his hands on you, his touch is feather-light, his warm arms circled around your waist delicately. He actually basks in your open affection-days, and he becomes so so soft and he hums in your ear and sways back and forth. He needs it just as much as you. On certain days he may be more playful and return your affection twicefold; one kiss to his cheek leads to him pressing his lips to both of yours.

mozart ; you’ll be hard pressed to get him away from the piano, peeking your head through the door or lingering around behind him. He may feign exasperation at your ‘insistent silent cues’ that you want affection, but he readily turns around on the bench to let you sit with him, his lips pressed against your temple. Once you’ve had your fill, he’s softened up as well, and he’s nonchalant as he says he would not mind if you just stayed and wrapped your arms around his shoulder while he played “if you’d like.”

leonardo ; when you throw him pouts across the library, he can’t help the chuckle that rises in his throat. He’ll close his book and make his way over to you, nuzzling his nose against yours softly as he jokes that you can hardly be away from him. Again, leonardo sleep often just like napoleon, so he really doesn’t mind when you want to cuddle. He’ll sleep with you anywhere but if you have qualms about napping on the hallway floor, he’ll make the effort to clear his bed (only his bed, the rest of the room is still a godforsaken mess) for the both of you to cuddle comfortably, faces towards each other and playing with each others’ fingers.

vincent ; all you have to do is give the word and his paint brush is set down and his arms are open. You either cramp yourselves up super close on his couch or you go to his favorite spot on the hill and lay in the grass. Vincent gives super warm, comforting hugs (theo can vouch for him), and he smiles so sweetly as he holds you against him. He fixes your hair and asks about your day absently, and you may hold hands as you talk or—on more mellow days—you interlock your pinkies as you watch the clouds.

theo ; he’ll be in the parlor reading poetry or talking to arthur when you come in and sit so close beside him you’re practically on his lap. He pauses to protect himself from the stutter lodged in his throat, and his eyes cast to you. At your innocent smile, he simply sighs; he knows what you want. He places his hands on either side of your waist and hoists you into his lap, his arms caging you against his chest. If arthur makes any comment he grumbles and glares, but it’s just to protect his dignity when a pink flush crosses his cheeks (all the while you just smile). Affection in front of the others always flusters him a bit, but he always plays it off and acts suave—he secretly loves it.

issac ; if you ever were to surprise him with a back hug out of the blue, oh boy. He will sputter and choke, whirling around with big eyes. He may huff defensively that you shouldn’t surprise him like that, but the feverish flush of his cheeks shows you that he’s not mad at all. Though it may take some time, he grows to love your surprise affection on your clingy days, especially when he gets too stressed or focused about teaching or tinkering. Also a major sucker for the intimacy of close embraces like dazai and arthur, where he caresses your cheek and kisses your forehead—it relaxes and reassures him a lot.

dazai ; this sly dog can instantly read when you’re clingy, but he won’t do anything until you tell him. Everytime you’re glued to his side or brush against his arm, send him needy looks—he just smiles and asks if you’ve eaten or read the book he recommended. When you finally cave and tell him, for an odd moment he will remain quiet and not do anything, maybe have you just follow him. But once you’re sat down somewhere more comfortable, he’ll turn to you and gently take you in his arms, similar to arthur, and just hold you. His fingers will card through your hair, and it’s only when you silently beg for affection that you are able to draw out this soft kind of intimacy from him.

jean ; like issac, he isn’t much of a fan of the surprises. I don’t think he’d ever come to love it though because he’s afraid of how he’d react—would he feel threatened and pull his sword on you? What if he hadn’t drank enough that day, would he turn on you? For this man’s guilt-ridden heart, please initiate affection slowly. He’d love the soft handholding while you walked and talked, or the hand on his guiding arm. As he grows more comfortable, you could initiate gentle but firm hugs or sitting in his lap, and like arthur, he would end up needing it more; he will melt in your hands with his face pressed against your shoulder, your fingers running through his hair. It helps him forget and feel loved in time.

comte ; quirks a brow at first, a soft smile crossing his lips at your inquiry. He’ll cup your chin in his hand and kiss you gently, assuring you that he is all yours and he is only there to fulfill your every desire (“Be Our Guest” from Beauty and the Beast begins playing in the distance). He’d gladly let you latch yourself to his arm while he traveled the mansion, but he throws his tasks out the window quickly to instead sit in the gardens with you, admiring the landscape with his arm securely around your waist. At times like this, he feels very happy in a mellow sense; your affection helps him forget that he’s immortal, and that he can share moments so intimate like this with you.

sebastian ; quite honestly you’re both cooking in the kitchen when you slowly intertwine your fingers with his empty one on the counter. He pauses in reading the recipe to look to you for an explanation, but you’re nonchantly getting the ingredients together. Sebastian is observant, and so I think he would quickly understand that this is your silent confession of being needy, so he’ll just smile and press a kiss to your cheek before continuing with his work. He will try his best to leave your hands connected while you work, or return to your hold as quickly as possible if the task requires both hands.

shakespeare ; your shows of needing affection may have to be more subdued if you ever want a desirable reaction. If you come on too strong or lively, he will only use poetic words to answer your actions, his eyes flashing as he’s on guard, for you couldn’t be that happy to see him, could you? But if you’re more mellow, perhaps kissing the inside of his wrist or ghosting your touch along his neck, he may shiver and crumble. Such intimacy! Mayhaps you do hold such love for him in your heart of hearts, and he’ll gloss his lips down your forearm to kiss your inner elbow to show his own desire.

[surge-the-tenrec]

welcome to my saw trap where i ramble at you abt my silver hcsanyways, meet his family! theyre all kids (except for mama izu) born with special chaos powers, all from different ruined/deleted timelines.

many years ago a teenage izu, who has the power to weave "fate webs", originally used pieces of a shattered master emerald to build her own safe haven semi outside of the main timeline stream with her plan being to use her powers to travel to different ruined or doomed futures and prevent them. a few years later, she found two echidna children and a dying master emerald that were in a timeline beyond repair and took them back with her. over time she just kept... collecting kids, to the point she just has a lil family now. the healed master emerald just adds a new room onto their haven whenever she finds a new child. after a while, the kids start growing up and they wanna help her out in saving the future - which is how silver keeps coming back, and also where he goes once he saves the world

izu the spider is based on a juro spider. theyre a real cool lookin spider and ive wanted to make an oc of one for a while! in terms of personality izu is quite,,, spacey. she's spent a lot of time alone and a lot more in desolute timelines and its left her a lil traumatized - but she loves her kids so much, and would do anything for them. shes very fun and playful and has an odd habit of thinking out loud.

reutov the raccoon dog (ignore how i mispelt raccoon it is so late). the youngest member of the family at 8, and an absolute little shit. they have "kid on fortnite" energy. literally the cringest little baby i love them so much. reutov's chaos power is they can sorta teleport by breaking themself down on a molecular level and reassemble somewhere else. they also got lightning powers that they get by vibrating their atoms really quick. since they were a baby when their future was destroyed they dont really remember it or where they came from.

mirador the echidna is the older of the echinda sibs, and i designed her before but heres a quick redesign. same personality: deadpan, duty driven, big ole strong girl. she can control shadows. both mirador and her brother lucea were raised by a spirit inside the emerald (tikal) who kept them safe as she could and taught them what they needed to know before izu found them. being the first to be adopted by izu and coming as a pair, mira originally clung to her brother and didn't want them forming bonds with the other kids. this softened over time, but still she tries to keep the others a little at arms length - lucea may have forgotten how the world fell to ruin, but mirador didn't.

lucea the echidna is the younger echidna sib. he hates everything about being stuck at home guarding the master emerald for a lotta reasons, the big one being she cant use her chaos power - the ability to manipulate solar energy into a physical shape - since their home is outside of time and thus no sun. he's pretty mean, but in a sibling sorta way and usually doesnt go too far. lucea is massively insecure and covers it up by pretending shes the coolest kid in the world. gets on great with reutov

venice the hedgehog. yeah, turns out silver is a nickname! most of his family call him silver, the exception being izu or if hes in trouble or about to get pranked. almost got wiped outta existence due to the stable timeloop in 06, but blaze managed to get him sent as a baby to izu.

florence the tenrec is gold the tenrec from archie. she probably started the same as archie gold, kinda meek and shy but her time with her family made her a lot bolder - she and lucea can be nightmarish together. originally i had her telepathy active and she was encouraging silver to fight lucea but since this is a ref photo i decided against it. also a slightly different outfit - she probably still has her canon outfit, this is just,, easier for me to draw tbh

[cursedbcrn]

Okay this is by no means extensive and rn it’s limited to TVDU characters because that’s the easiest off the top of my head. These are just ideas I’ve thought of recently and if this is helpful / people like this spitball format, I might make more posts like this in the future. If you’re interested, let me know and we can do a thing.

Caroline replaces Alaric after he gets the boot from the honor council. Maybe she gets a firsthand look at the damage Alaric has caused, from the curriculum to eroding the trust from the students, and also how he’s pitted the twins against Hope / treated her like a guard dog over the years. Realizing that she’s made mistakes but can still turn around and try to make amends. (imagine how that changes everything in the future seasons, like would Hope still beat her up to “send a message” after she flips her humanity? Would Alyssa still want to send her to the prison world as revenge as well? Dealing with nh!Hope? Possibilities!)

Alternatively, Caroline who follows the plotline as in canon and returns upon hearing about nh!Hope (or what she did to Lizzie. Alaric too ig).

Resurrection threads. Hayley, Klaus, Elijah, Stefan, Cami, literally anyone who died and for whatever reason. If it’s not Hayley or Klaus, maybe she tried to get them and something went awry, but now they have them? Idk, just resurrection threads. 

Kai wreaks much more havoc in the prison world arc. Probably will end up with Kai dead or back in the prison world tbh ( or some other plucky happy ending ) but also the sass, banter, and absolute brutality. ( no Hope/Kai please )

Either Landon or Lizzie (or both) for the canon verse. Landon would be romantic turned platonic after 2x08, and Lizzie would be platonic the whole way through. I love both ships romantically and platonically, but I have yet to be able to play them out in a platonic way and I think there’s so much depth and potential and I just love deep platonic friendships okay?

Can someone please spare a Rafael for my crops, they’re dying. ( Yes, I know I already play Raf with Ace but also I wanna play Hope - and no, it’s not the same )

Actually, I will take literally any rarepair ship for Hope (i.e. Hope/Jed, Hope/Cleo, Hope/Maya, Hope/Ethan, etc.) like I would legitimately be interested to see how we could make it happen. 

My entire kingdom for a Marcel. What is he doing during Legacies timeline? Did something happen? What did he think after she flipped her switch? Hope needs her big brother.

So....... how do Damon and Elena feel when they hear that Hope Mikaelson is going to be attending SBS? Because you fucking bet your ass that Alaric ran his mouth to Damon, even though he wasn’t allowed to. What was the reaction when she was seven? What about when the Malivore monsters start showing up? When she goes full tribrid? 

Obligatory Hope and the twins were raised by K/laroline or H/ayoline AU. 

Any version of a verse where one of Klaus, Elijah, or Hayley survive, while the other two die. Bonding over survivor’s guilt, swapping stories, trying to move on. 

Canon-divergent AU where Hope actually manages to leaves Mystic Falls after she sees Josie and Landon kissing at their movie night. Anyone from the Super Squad meets her again 5 years later (say..... right before the Merge?)

My Triad verse maybe? Like......... supernatural creatures getting hunted? Hope suddenly reappearing after 12 years and the ripple effects of that nexus vorti which rips open Malivore from the inside, spilling out all these legendary monsters and also Triad is still a menace and idk maybe Josie also comes back from the dead somehow because Hope exists again and-

Okay wait I’m going to add to this, but consider that this changes everything so anyone can be dead or alive, but people still don’t remember Hope. So just imagine the heartbreak of Hope finally running home to see her parents but they don’t remember her at all

More to be added maybe? Idk are these ideas interesting to anyone but me?

[ahiijny]

my initial thoughts on Everything Everywhere All at Once

tl;dr banger film go watch

anyway spoilers below, be warned!

ok so my family wanted to go see a film and this was the only title I recognized from the list so I chose this one!

I did have a bit of foreknowledge about the film going into it:

some ppl I follow seemed to really like it

apparently it's really weird?

starring some Chinese actors

I saw that one fanny pack clip from the post with the scene analysis

also the lady apparently gets hot dogs for fingers at some point (???)

something something parallel universes

okay! so we ate some dinner and went out to catch the 10:05pm show

after like 15 minutes of ads, it finally started!

They're speaking Mandarin, woooo!!! I thought my mom would appreciate this (I was watching with my mom and two brothers; my sister was at a friend's place so she wasn't there. She should watch it tho it's gooood)

I did notice a slight accent in the Mandarin. My mom pointed out that most of the actors have Cantonese names, so this is probably why. The speaking was really good though, way more fluent than I could possibly hope to achieve lol

Also Evelyn and Waymond did that thing where they switched between Chinese and English a lot. i.e. speaking a bunch of sentences and then just randomly switching to the other language. And also some sentences are completely in Chinese, except for a couple of specific English words (e.g. "laundromat") substituted in. My parents do that a lot too!!! It was fairly common with Chinese friends who actually knew Chinese, too. e.g. "妈，我现在在mall了" c:

For some reason I thought they were owners of a restaurant. But oh okay, it's a laundromat, that makes sense too

Gay let’s goooooo

Okay when Evelyn mixed up the pronouns for Becky I was like “omg mormy this you” because my mom actually does that a lot!!! In Chinese he (他) and she (她) are both pronounced “ta” and so my mom sometimes (not often, just occasionally!) accidentally calls my brothers “she” or my sister “he”. And she always goes on the exact same line about “it sounds the same in Chinese” too! it’s her fr fr

When the granddad was like "your Chinese gets worse every day" to Joy I felt so called out lmaooooo. 我的中文很差 she’s me fr 😭😭😭😭😭

btw 公公 (gong gong) or the more formal 外公 (wai gong) mean maternal grandfather, but these are more commonly used in the South. Where my parents are from, I’m more familiar with 老爷 (lao ye) and 老奶 (lao nai) to refer to my mother’s parents.

Also interesting that the granddad speaks Cantonese but Evelyn and Waymond speak Mandarin.

That old guy with the gray hair in the laundromat is wayyyy too touchy feely with Evelyn kinda sussy if you ask me (maybe im just being paranoid)

Calling that lady big nose kinda r00d doncha think o.o

When he was going on about the “Alphaverse” in the elevator my thoughts immediately went to a different kinda of verse involving specific greek letters but dont worry about that

The broom closet ending is my favourite

Wait are they committing tax fraud???

tbh I side with Evenlyn here taxes are way more important than whatever mumbo jumbo universe stuff this AU Waymond is talking about (help)

That’s uh. That’s an interesting shaped trophy. Huh. Huh. 👀 (”Anal” get it haha)

Oh, the fanny pack scene. Okay from the clip on the tumblr I got the impression that these security guards were some villainous force about to apprehend our heroes and Waymond did a MVP to save their asses. But no actually this is completely our MCs fault Evelyn lowkey (highkey) punched an old lady in the face completely unprovoked and then Waymond somehow escalated the situation and made it worse instead of just deescalating and apologizing lmaoooo. You couldn’t have picked a worse time to jump in here???  help

(insert curse of balal joke here) COMMUNICATION PLS

Okay the verse jumping thing is pretty cooool, and the low-probability thing to activate a different life branching line thingy is also cool! The branching is cool, the fancy phone app thing is cool, I actually really love graph theory! like. Thinking about all the different branches your life could have taken. I wanna see more of this!!!

Okay and the thing where Alpha Waymond is actually still in a truck in the Alphaverse while trying to do things in this verse kinda gave me the Matrix vibes very cool very cool

//srs ok but fr the talk about divorce in the van um. it kinda hit hard? irl my parents are kinda going through a rough phase and it doesn’t seem to be getting better and I hope really hope they don’t divorce but um. yeah. kinda almost started crying, barely held myself back

IS THAT A FUCKING DILDO

“You have the most potential because you are the greatest failure out of all possible Evelyns” wow um. you couldn’t have phrased that a bit better lmao

WHY DO YOU HAVE A GUN

wtf do not swing ur doggo around like that he is not a weapon

I am trying not to cry while watching a grown woman trying to stop two grown men from jamming butt plugs up their asses (this makes sense in context) dsgfhdsghgfhgdhjjoij

When everything splintered even more they showed so many different Evelyns I was like ‘holy hell how long did it take to get all these different costumes’ and each individual one only showed for like a single frame. wow

They almost got me with the fakeout “the end” and premature end credits but I watched Chronicles of the Going Home Club and also I know this movie has three parts you won’t get me that easily

I love the rocks scene. Very avant-garde, and a nice little resting point in the middle of such a breakneck pace movie.

“Most universes are like this.” No life, just sand, just rocks. Daaaam.

The everything bagel. The dark circle (like on the tax papers as well). I feel like this is a metaphor for a certain thing 😥 ono. If it’s that, then this is suddenly even more heavy.

I have no idea what Waymond is saying to keep getting Evelyn off the hook with the tax people but honestly MVP. even non-Alphaverse Waymond is really a great person

Okay but running after the truck like that is just inefficient, you’ve got 2 sets of legs, but you’re wasting a good chunk of energy on unnecessarily hoisting an entire adult body off the ground. I know this is funny and all but also it’s inefficient and you’ll never get your raccoon friend back like this pls optimize more sdljkjgldgjdh

I am told that the piano keys pressed by the feet do not actually correspond with the musical notes heard

Okay but the “this is awkward” by Joy just makes it more real and this is actually really feels but im really glad they made up

GIRLFRIEND. (in Cantonese). YES.

(btw I don’t know any Cantonese so I have no idea how their pronunciation is so I’m just going to assume it’s great)

Wow part 3 is short

Okay, overall, I really enjoyed watching this movie! A solid 9.1/10!

When they said “everything” in the title, they really meant it lol. I really went through the full gamut of emotions while watching this movie, sometimes all at once! More mood whiplash than Symphogear episode 1! (some people may think this is a bad thing but honestly I don’t mind it lol)

The parallel universe stuff also really reminds me of Qualia the Purple, which was similarly mind-screwy. I love that series too.

It’s not perfect, because there are a lot of frustrating parts of the movie that could’ve been avoided if Alphaverse Waymond just explained things better, or if people actually communicated properly! Also I got severe secondhand cringe/embarrassment/social anxiety just seeing that whole situation in the IRS office and how they kept digging themselves into a deeper grave by assaulting various peoples. Imagine if the multiverse people suddenly dropped all contact and now mainverse Evelyn and Waymond have to explain all this to the authorities??? im horrified just by the thought of it fjlsjgfldjgkdflg

Also the Alphaverse Waymond explanations are interesting but honestly he could not have picked a worse time lmao. The whole time he was explaining stuff in the broom closet my mind was honestly going “ok this is interesting but the taxes pls tell me they’re going to figure out the taxes???” (as you may be able to tell I’m a boring adult dsfkjlgfdgjfg)

This is like me watching Squid Game and going “oh no, but what about the (illegal) organs” bc the TASK you know what I mean??? isjgdofidjf

And the whole thing about how Gong Gong was planning on killing his granddaughter. “she can’t be reasoned with” no you didn’t try hard enough try harder. This is probably a relevant allegory in and of itself; a breakdown in communications.

Closing Thoughts

Okay but nitpicks aside I actually did overall quite enjoy this film. I can see how this might be the film for everyone, though. My interests are very specific and this ended up hitting all the right buttons for me, but this might not be the case for everyone.

My older brother enjoyed it somewhat, gave it a 8/10. He seemed particularly interested in the bagel stuff, and kept prompting discussions about it afterwards lol. My mom didn’t like it as much. She did really enjoy the mother-daughter and other family stuff because that was real and relatable, but she didn’t seem to be as into the sci-fi or fighting stuff. She did find the scenes with the tax lady funny though, because she said she does have to do the taxes every year. When I asked her for a rating, she said it was half/half, gave it a 5/10. My little brother said he didn’t really like it, gave it a 3.3/10 at best. (But that’s fine, he didn’t like Symphogear either, so I guess our tastes just don’t really align that much 😅)

We did see the Shang-Chi movie last year, so I asked my family for their ratings on this movie as well for comparison (since also Chinese actors and relatable ABC stuff). My brothers gave this one a 7/10, but for my mom it was a 4/10.

When the sci-fi verse jumping stuff started coming in in the elevator scene, I thought it would shift from a more personal-scoped story to a broader, universe-threatening type of story. But I do like that it ended up circling on itself and ended up still being a family-scoped kind of story. No need to introduce like. Extra organizations or governments or random extradimensional threads. It works better when everything wraps around to still be related to the family.

This is maybe the reason why I also enjoyed Ryuusei no Rockman 1 more than Ryuusei no Rockman 2. in the first game, many of the newly created antagonists are directly related to Subaru’s close friends and adjacent neighbourhood, so it feels, closer, more personal of a story. The second game had various randos from foreign lands as antagonists, so I felt kinda less emotionally invested in the second game.

Y’know what I mean?

This is also a trap I hope Squid Game doesn’t fall into when season 2 comes out. Sure there’s this ORGANIZATION and BOSSES and CONSPIRACIES going on or whatever, but tbh it’s the family dynamics and interpersonal relationships that really drew me in in the first place, because those aspects were more relatable for me. I’m not as invested in this front man or these rich people doing rich and powerful people things, it’s just not as interesting to me. But maybe that’s just me.

Anyway enough rambling, I liked this movie, it is an EXPERIENCE. Definitely would rewatch. Graph theory verse jumping mechanics are super interesting, might explore these in some fanworks someday c:

Peace.

[novasintheroom]

Hiya~ :D Saw your requests were open. Mind if I ask for one, please? Would you do me the honour of writing a 'lil somethin' somethin' with the bois' fem!S/O seeing them cry for the first time and how she would handle it? 2003 or Bayverse, your choice. ;) Please?

I had this ask nearly done and then my computer ATE it lmao I’m so sorry it took this long to answer!!!

Leo

·         Takes a lot to get this guy to cry tbh. Has to be something really tragic or traumatizing to get him going. That, or watching Coco

·         Which is exactly how you see him cry for the first time

·         The guys hadn’t seen many Disney movies, so you decide to rectify that with a Disney night. Coco is first, and Leo is Unprepared™ for Miguel and Coco singing together at the end

·         He has to leave like right after because he’s holding back sobs, and you’re like ‘wtf’. Like, it’s sad, and you’re a bit teary-eyed, but it’s not that bad, right?

·         You follow him and find him in a corner deep in the lair trying to get it together. You ask him what’s up, and he confesses that seeing Coco so old reminded him that Splinter’s getting old too, and he’s worried about keeping his family together once he passes

·         All of Raph’s threats to leave over the years have really dug under his skin

·         Gall, it’s heart wrenching to see him trying to hold it in and apologizing for his “stupid” worries. So you wrap him in a hug and tell him it’s okay to be sad about it, and to let it out. You’re surprised when he does start crying, even though it’s quiet.

·         You also tell him that he’s never gonna lose his family or you, even after Splinter’s gone. His family’s gonna stick around because everyone loves him.

·         He doesn’t cry much (read: at all) after that, but he comes to you a lot more when something bothers him or makes him sad. Really helps your relationship improve overall!

Raph

·         2nd most likely to cry out of the brothers. He’s an emotional guy okay.

·         Hates to be caught crying though lmao – would rather die before admit he shed a tear

·         First time you see him cry, you catch him on your roof before he can leave

·         It’s a surprise, since you weren’t expecting to see him that night, but you’re happy to see him anyways.

·         He’s a bit distant, though, like he’s trying to decide to leave or not. You ask him what’s up, and he just mumbles something you can’t hear. You ask again, and he sighs this aggravated sound and just sits on the roof

·         “I ran into some humans tonight. Stopped a mugging happening. Was gonna just get outta there after, but the people I saved started throwing rocks and bottles at me. Callin’ me a freak.”

·         You didn’t know, but that’s the third time this week that’s happened. He may not show it like Mikey, but that stuff still hurts to hear, even if it’s gotten a bit better working with the NYPD

·         He starts ranting about it, about how people just don’t care anymore, that he should’ve just let them get mugged instead of helping them because they didn’t deserve help (he doesn’t mean it, Splinter’s taught him better; but you know how anger can fuel meaningless words)

·         You sit beside him, dangling your feet over the roof’s side, and take his hand in yours while he talks. His throat grows tight, and he has to stop a few times to keep the tears from falling, and when one does, he just gets more angry and starts on another tangent. He doesn’t move from your side, though. You’re a balm to his wounds.

·         Eventually all he can do is breathe heavy, and in a broken voice, ask, “Why was I made like this? It’s not fair.” Gall, if that doesn’t just break your heart…

·         So you hug his arm, and tell him how much you love him. He’s right, it’s not fair that he has to live in the shadows, away from people when all he wants is to be normal. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve love and happiness, and you promise that you’ll always love him for him, not for what he could be or should be.

·         It’s exactly what he needs to hear. He knew there was a reason he came to you that night.

·         He still tries to not cry around you, but this experience helps him feel more comfortable in being vulnerable with you.

Donnie

·         Nearly as unlikely to cry as Leo, but not quite

·         His crying usually comes from tears of frustration more than anything

·         He’s a determined guy, and is hard-pressed to give up on something when he puts his mind to it

·         But man it’s aggravating when that tech he’s been working on for months just keeps blowing up or just won’t work and he can’t figure out why

·         That’s how you find him and see him cry for the first time. You come into the lair, rearing to have some fun with new tech Donnie said he was working on. When you get to his lab, he’s hunched over his desk. He didn’t notice you come in, and he sniffs a few times

·         Your hand on his shell makes him jump, and he tries wiping the tears away with the tails of his mask, asking you when you got here, how’s your day, oh no, he’s fine, just a bit of dust trailing in from the sewers

·         The air filter rattling at the desk makes that a bit doubtful

·         So you pull the paper screen he has nearby around the desk to give a bit more privacy and ask him what’s wrong. He tries to deny it – “it’s just dust, my eyes are tired from the screens,” etc. etc. – but then you ask about the little bug-like device sitting in front of him, and he sighs like all the world is wrong. It’s a new mobile spying device he’d been developing for tracking Foot Clan people in hard-to-reach places (i.e. lots of humans around), but its legs keep locking up, or the sound cuts out, and it’s so tiny and his hands are so big despite the tools he has specifically for that kind of stuff

·         A few more tears leak out, and he wipes them again

·         So you offer to help him with the little things – not just the bug, but getting him the water and food he’s been neglecting for hours as well

·         A full stomach always brings up anyone’s mood

·         You also force him to take a break and catch up on an episode of a TV show you’ve both been watching

·         He feels a lot better after all the care, and is so glad to have you around – especially when you get the bug’s legs working for the first time

Mikey

·         Oh he’s a crier, baby

·         If he hasn’t had a good cry in a month, something’s wrong. He fully subscribes to the belief that a good cry relieves stress lol

·         First time you see him cry is when you guys are just watching YouTube videos on your phone. One of those charity ads pop up for impounded and abused animals, and he is just gone. Sobbing into your shoulder, reaching for a blanket to wipe his nose on, the works

·         You’re just so caught off guard – like one minute you guys are laughing at some gamer playing Phasmophobia, the next he’s blubbering about the “poor kitties and dogs” and “why are people so cruel!”

·         Raph walks by and throws a tissue pack your way. “He’s gonna be there a minute. Get comfy.”

·         So you comfort Mikey, rubbing his shell and handing him tissues when one gets too soaked. His cry sessions usually morph into other things he’s been stressing or sad about, so it’s a lot of talking over the meaning of life, morals, etc. etc.

·         He even manages to get you to cry a bit, and then he’s comforting you about whatever you’re getting off your chest

·         Once it’s over, he’s back to his happy self, with a weight off his shoulders that honestly he didn’t realize was there

·         You learn to carry tissues in your pocket from then on – you never know when a stray kitten could set him off lmao

[samsflannel]

survey results are in!

sorry, this is gonna be a long post. yesterday i posted a survey with a list of polls regarding Supernatural, and it was SO much fun. I got over 300 responses, which was A LOT to sort through for the short responses, but I’ve gathered all the “data” and here it is! My responses to each poll will be under the screenshots (they are in groups of 2). I’m going to include the short answer responses in another post. ENJOY!

1. Starting off strong.

2. Pleased with this one as well.

3. Yep, I expected this response from most of us.

4. Sami, I made the wincest and destiel response just for you. YW.

5. CMON YOU GUYS......live a little!!! samjack sexy

6. I’m not really surprised that Playthings got the bulk of votes here, but I think my vote would have been 8x23.

7.  :)

8. i’m disappointed that more people didn’t choose the yellow one tbh

9. it is sexy. it is. wake up.

10. i love Dean, but he’s definitely an asshole. and that’s what makes him a great character!

11. hehe.....i understand why not a lot of people picked noncon bait....u r valid its ok im gross.

12. WHO THE FUCK PICKED NO......have you ever consumed media

13. WBK.

14. damn, Dean kinda got the short end here! a lot of samgirls took this survey

15. i get why you wouldn’t like Bugs bc it does have harmful stereotypes about native ppl but the rest of it is peak season 1 wdymmm

16. almost 50/50 here! old vs new fans we love to see it. I am definitely wincest old guard.

17. YEP. Eric Kripke needs shock therapy for that one

18. The fact that some people admitted to being dry.....tragic. I think Eileen is a great character but they are NOT endgame.

19. SO YOURE JUST GONNA SIT THERE AND ADMIT HOW WRONG YOU ARE??

20. ugh. yeah. same.

21. who tf picked blue. cmon. red meat incest agenda.

22. SAM MOMMY MILKERS!!!!! hucow sam <3

23. Mixed on this one! My response is obviously yellow :)

24. I do think Bobby favored Dean somewhat.

25. Johnzazel agenda so true

26. HIGHKEY CANON. AND SEXY

27. someone requested a combination of blue and yellow and you’re so right i apologize.

28. mixed on this one for top vs bottom fans! almost a 50/50 split

29. ANNA DID NOTHING WRONG

30. I can’t believe this one is almost 50/50. Ruby girlboss you guys are haters

31. again. admitting you’re dry. THEY FUCKED

32. yeah :(

33. Q-anon level conspiracy theory.

34. I actually fall into the blue. I do believe Cas was in love with Dean, but not the other way around. I think Cas loving Dean makes wincest so much more spicy

35. I love sam so much

36. those of you who answered yes........join my movement.

37. c’mon. even if you don’t ship wincest you need to admit this one.

38. sorry this one was self-indulgent.

39. JESS PEGGED SAM.

40. idk, i personally think Cassie deffo pegged Dean. She has top energy.

41. So all the people who answered no have definitely not read the fic (were too young to remember it) or are squicked by underage which is ok! its one of those fics i read back in 2010 so i have fond memories of it

42. hahahah you guys were mean on this one

43. it’s canon bro sorry

44. thank god this one was majority yellow

45. i give wincestiel a valid pass! dean has multiple holes

46. Jack is hole <3

47. I actually think both are great (and ppl were mad I didn’t have that option srry) but deanpussy is incredible and underrated.

48. SEXY>>>>>>

49. thank you for enabling me.

50. can you guess the redacted part? it was: insert various objects into himself :))))

51. ok heres the big question! i’m not surprised ilysmmbb won, but i personally vote for “yeah, there he is” !! i think its underrated and such a tender moment.

52. i’m in the blue. i like cas.

53. i actually am in the yellow on this one. i think its more realistic, although blue is hot forsure

54. top 3 cas moment right there.

55. objectively yes on this one. thank god for COVID- *gets shot at*

56. sorry this was shady i’m not really like this usually haha. i think death is my fave besides Rowena

57. obviously i’m in the red. i’m shocked that so many people said Yes.......

58. Clearly.

59. I enjoyed fan fiction! i love campy episodes as you all know (like Dog Dean afternoon and such) so i loved fan fiction. it was a nice nod to someone like me who has been watching for a long time.

60. HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU NOT KNOW WHO ANDY IS. i wish he would have been in the show longer........

61. uh....yeah.

62. Yeah c’mon. Dean would and you know it.

63. Thank god you guys didn’t fuck this up. I would agree, but Corbett is a close second for me.

64. IN THE RED BABY!!!!

65. we love a man bleeding out. we do.

66. i actually think misha is chill with J2 but.....you can’t deny J3 have more chemistry.

67. I uh......don’t think Dean would be a great father. is this me projecting my own issues with my father onto Dean? maybe,,,,

68. i’m surprised this was so negative! I think i would be interested

69. thanks for reading my shitty poetry!! i also had s4 dean in mind when writing this

70. CMON.....ITS KINDA SEXY CMON.......that spice of battered wife syndrome.......violent man in the house.......sam beaten down....im barking

71. haha yessss go yellow.

72. go yellow again.

73. I think I would actually vote yellow on this one. what a sweet and beautiful thing to say to someone, and its so very DEAN.

74. mhm. i think so. 

75. SEXY CONTROLLING OLDER BROTHER!!!!!

76. no idea why people answered yes to this one. that punch was fucked up. was it sexy? thats another story,,

77. WOKE. 

78. I do. I love pilot Dean.

79. Dean is a carfucker. any side of the fandom can recognize that

80. thank you GREEN!!!!!!

81. Sam is bi wtf! Sera Gamble erasure

82. Padackles commune <33333 they all fuck and they don’t know whose kid is whose!!!! (not really but this is sexy)

83.  THESE BROTHERS ARE WEIRD FOR SURE.

[vaindumbass]

Do it. Elaborate on the Shrek au. I dare you.

oh god. oh god. well i cannot resist now i have been dared. remember that u asked for this. Also, this is mainly a collection of vague thoughts & details that maybe do not matter all that much, and will probably not make sense if u havent watched it.

fundamentally, shrek is a film (insert ‘im not even going to call it a movie’ meme here) about learning to love yourself as you are, but also about opening up to other people & letting them help you & also about how those two things interact with each other.

And who kind of hates himself and feels like a monster and uses the help of his friends? remus, of course. However! to even slightly maintain the vibe of the film the main character has to look hideous and intimidating to others, so we’re adding the lore that everyone can see that he’s a werewolf because of a particular scar on his head.

(sidenote: remember when sirius volunarily locked himself into a cave and looked like shit and ate rats? he would also make a good shrek, but if im going to list all the alternative ways this could be done we’ll never be done) 

Then, an enthusiastic four-footed sidekick: prongs. yes, it’s James in stag form. no, i don’t think he’ll be human at any point in the movie. (He has to be an outcast, that’s what unites them all, after all)

Also, the swamp is the shrieking shack.

now it’s going to get complicated, because unfortunately shrek wasn’t made with the idea of a marauders au in mind, which is kind of inconsiderate tbh. I’d make voldemort Lord Farquad just so that all the ‘compensating for something’ jokes can be replaced with something along the lines of: ‘well u know what they say: the smaller the nose,,,,’  

the magic mirror that snitches on them is Peter, and he tells voldemort that to be complete he needs a seventh horcrux and that the only thing fit for that is this one Black family heirloom. The black family will only give it away as a wedding gift. enter sirius black, stage left. 

lily is the dragon but. we’ve got to change the personality. lily is simply a Professional and wants to do her job, but james, overconfident as always, says he’ll be able to distract her with his seductive skills (yes, hes still a stag). Weirdest thing? it works. lily, who has never really talked to anyone before, just burned them to a crisp, is too busy laughing to really do anything. Somehow the whole ranting and never stop talking thing is the perfect approach, and Lily is quite curious about the outside world and how it has changed those past few years, and she is quite glad that she doesn’t have to kill him, because turns out he was just lost, and that must be true because he hasn’t asked about the prince yet. 

And then she spots Remus and Sirius getting away and realizes she was tricked. she isn’t exactly. proud of her reaction but to be fair trying to burn and kill people was just her knee-jerk reaction at that point!! she didn’t really have the time to get used to the talking thing!! 

ehhh sirius changes into a. fucking dog at night. and he can’t control it. that’s the curse. 

that one robin hood-like figure? that came to attack them? the blonde one with the song. yes that’s Gilderoy Lockhart and Sirius enjoys punching him very much (#letsiriusblackgoferal2021). Remus enjoys watching the punching and such and then the cute and slightly disturbing bonding montage starts. 

they take shelter in the windmill, sirius transforms into a dog but can still talk for plot reasons, and explains the whole being cursed and needing a true love’s kiss etcetera. remus got him a flower but drops it when he hears the words ‘but who could ever love a mangy mutt’ and it’s all a very sad misunderstanding and voldemort takes sirius away. (sorry abt putting the image of sirius and voldemort marrying into ur head <3) 

Here, for fun, I’d suggest just giving Lily some time to shine, going out, exploring the world, because she doesn’t really have a job anymore and doesn’t know what to do. She sees the fairytale people, the different ones, and how they are treated and how lord voldemort tries to get them all away because it doesn’t fit into his worldview. It’s horrible, and at her core, she’s a protector, so one day she just swoops two dwarfs (marlene and dorcas) onto her back, away from the soldiers who try to make them go down the mines and stay there forever, out of sight.

They have fun & explore & become friends, honestly, and her new friends want to show her some really cool dwarven shit let’s say a nice gemstone. Lily gives the appropriate reaction but unfortunately a very big dragon isn’t very subtle and the soldiers manage to find them and to capture marlene and dorcas, who both encourage lily to just get away as fast as possible. and lily does. she flies and flies and keeps flying until she can’t and then she stops next to a lake and cries.

that’s where she sees james again. they talk, james consoles her, says that at least she had that friendship because friendship is the most important thing in the world, and then we see him have a lightbulb moment. He makes up with remus. 

They crash the wedding! sirius appreciates the dramatics of it all, and, not one to be bested, reveals that he changes into a dog when the sun goes down. lord voldemort, appaled, calls for his guards (remember, the problem isn’t necessarily ugliness, here, but the exclusion of the non-normal, non-human people (shrek as a metaphor for queerness anyone?)) and lily eats him. #girlboss

remus hugs dog-sirius, and he’s smiling a lot more than we’ve seen so far in this film!! he also presses a small kiss to the top of sirius’ head just because. not much happens but a few seconds later sirius seems to concentrate and suddenly he’s human again (a delighted human, to be clear). he concentrates again and he’s a dog. human-dog-human-dog-human. remus, although he isn’t quite sure what’s going on, watches with a fond smile. sirius remembers he’s there and they kiss and it’s cute ig

ending scene is a big party with a banner of ‘we ended the monarchy!!!!’ and next to it there’s a painting of the person who was elected as president and it’s Just Some Guy. halfway through the party james decides to defend lily’s honour and crosses out the ‘we’ and writes down ‘I’ and drapes it around lily as if it’s a sash. remus and sirius are also vibing. dorcas and marlene are furiously digging out gems and giving them to each other (it’s how they flirt). the end <3

[winterromanov]

AU idea- college athlete Bucky and he’s really popular and all that but very sweet and he meets this girl who’s sweet and a little quiet in one of his classes and he just keeps trying to be around her, study with her, buy her coffee and she likes him but she’s just like.... why is this cute popular boy paying attention to me lol

pairing: bucky x reader (also SUPER tempted to do a part two of this, let me know if you’re interested)

You recognise the guy staring at you from across the table in your Russian lit tutorial. You recognise him because everyone knows Bucky Barnes, the football star, certified big name on campus and best friend of fellow football star Steve Rogers. He’s the guy that every girl on your corridor gossips about, the one all the professors love, the one who gets hundreds of likes on his Instagram pictures.

(You don’t follow him but you have to admit, you’ve scrolled through his feed a few times. Just to see what the fuss is all about, you know. And you know. Boy, you know.)

You’ve never actually interacted with him before because your circles aren’t the kind that usually interlink, but now you’re sat in a seminar on Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, and Bucky Barnes is definitely staring at you.

When your eyes eventually flicker up from your laptop--just to double check you’re not making it all up, that he’s not looking at the much prettier girl next to you--he grins, pen between his teeth. Your cheeks involuntarily catch fire and you deliberately snap away. Because this is Bucky Barnes you’re talking about, who dated Natasha Romanoff in his freshman year before it all very publically...fell apart. Who could have literally any girl he wanted worshiping at his high-tops. Who would never look at a girl like you because, well. 

You’re you.

-

You’re trying to buy coffee in the campus shop next to the library when he actually speaks to you directly for the first time. Emphasis on the word trying, because you left your damn purse at home and Apple Pay is not being your friend and you can feel yourself getting more and more embarrassed the longer the cashier has to wait. You eventually resort to rummaging round your backpack for loose change in order to pay the poor guy, but an arm with a contactless debit card reaches out and beeps the payment through for you.

“I’ll get a latte to go, please, Mario.” 

“Of course. Anything for you, Mr Barnes.”

It’s Bucky Barnes. Of course it’s Bucky Barnes--only someone like him would take the time to know the server by name. He’s wearing his faded red Columbia jersery and a baseball cap. His grin is kinda crooked and yes, yes you know it’s one of the many reasons all the girls go wild for him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say, stepping aside so he can go to the front of the queue. He merely shrugs. “Here--let me pay you back, I know I’ve got a couple of dollars in here somewhere...”

He shakes his head as he taps his card once again, the server handing him his latte in a reusable mug with a wink. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly, your idea about interior monologue in Anna Karenina in Ivan’s class the other day actually inspired my paper, so I do owe you one.”

You blink, kinda dumbstruck at the thought of Bucky Barnes remembering any input you’d given in class. Or anyone remembering any input you’d given in class. “You liked my point?”

“Oh, yeah.” Bucky sips his coffee, grimacing slightly as the liquid burns his lips. “Tolstoy finding humour in death. It’s so dark and beautiful. All your points, actually--you see a lot in literature than I’ve never picked up on in a first reading.”

“I...Uh. Well. Thank you.” You’ve always been quite reserved in class, scared to say anything in case it’s stupid or outlandish and the other students laugh at you. In reality you know it’s you being paranoid, but old habits die hard. 

Bucky looks at his watch before hissing a profanity under his breath. “Gotta run. Cold War study group across campus in three minutes. Catch you later?”

He phrases it like a question rather than a generic add on, a necessity of politeness. His blue eyes look at you expectantly, actively waiting for you to reply.

(They’re so blue, his eyes. Blue like the sky in the summer back home, bright and cloudless and stared at from a meadow.)

“Yeah, of course! See you in class.” You raise your coffee cup sheepishly in his eyeline. “And thanks for the coffee.”

And like that he vanishes, bustling out the door and stepping purposefully in the opposite direction as the sun blazes on his back.

-

You see his backpack before you see him, slammed down on the bench next to you in the lecture hall. He sits down with a long exhale of breath, like he’s ran here--this time he’s dressed in sportswear so you assume he’s been to the gym. Veins ripple and flex up his ridiculously toned arms. Being a football hero probably does that to you.

“Crime and Punishment,” he says, instead of a greeting. “What did you think?”

You smile, spreading your hand across the heavily annotated and dog-eared copy you have in front of you. “Long, dark, often psychologically challenging, but ultimately an interesting perspective on nihilism. And you?”

“Oh.” He nods in faux seriousness. “I thought much the same. Reckon I’d like to go for a beer with Dostoevsky.”

“That would be an interesting encounter.”

Bucky rests his laptop and his copy of the book on the bench and looks as though he might say something else until the professor enters the room, hushing the hall to silence. When the lights dim so you can see the projector, you wonder if Bucky can hear how furiously your heart beats in your chest.

-

After than, some sort of unspoken agreement develops wherein every Russian literature class, his place is a spot next to you. You always seem to arrive first--he’s always rushing from somewhere--but he clocks you and instinctively walks over, sliding into a chair adjacent to your own. The conversation is usually the same. Always about the books.

You’re not sure what any of it means but you’ve somehow found a friend in the famous Bucky Barnes, and people start to notice.

“Since when have you and Bucky been so close?” Wanda Maximoff asks as you queue for the canteen lasagna, the flourescent bar lights doing nothing for the food presentation. “My brother is in your lit class and he says you two sit together a lot.”

You shrug, spooning lasagna onto your plate. “We just sit together.”

“You don’t just sit together with Bucky Barnes, (Y/N). That’s not a thing that happens.”

“Honestly, Wanda, we just talk about books.”

Wanda narrows her eyes, swiping her meal card at the end of the belt. “Sure, okay. I believe you. For now.”

She has to believe you, because you know what she’s insinuating. And when you look across the canteen and see Bucky laughing with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson and his ex girlfriend Natasha Romanoff, you know this cute, handsome boy and his often insightful observations of Russian texts are so far out of your league that it’s kind of embarrassing.

-

so, (y/n). what did you think of the master and margarita?

i think pilate suffering for his sins for two thousand years is pretty rough tbh

but he deserves it?

i mean. probably. his suffering is necessary for the redemption arc

just what i was going to say. obviously.

see you tomorrow :)

-

“Do you want to come to a party?” 

Bucky asks you this as you come out of your seminar on Chekov’s Uncle Vanya and, admittedly, it kind of knocks you off guard. When you lamely blink back at him blankly, he decides to elaborate.

“It’s my friend Sam’s birthday. It’s just at our dorm--should be fun. Although we’re very competitive when it comes to beer pong, so beware.” His smile is wistful but he quickly comes back to earth, falling in step with you as you walk along the hall. “So what do you say? You interested?”

“You’re inviting me to a party?” you reply, as this is a very big step in your friendship. This is assuming he’d happily see you outside of class amongst his equally popular and attractive friends.

“Yeah, I think so,” he laughs bemusedly, pausing at the door that leads to the quad. He has his Cold War class across campus. “(Y/N), I’d really like you to come.”

You look at him and expect him to reveal this--him--as a joke, but he’s earnest and certain and honest, with an almost shy smile on his face. His eyes are hidden by his usual cap but you know the colour of blue so well by now. And not just because you’d zoomed in on his Facebook photo in a moment of ridiculous late-night longing.

(You follow him on Instagram now, too, but only because he followed you first. You were still too uncertain to initiate it, worried that he’d ignore you.)

“Okay,” you say, swallowing nervously. Wondering if this might be a mistake. That you’d turn up and no-one there would like you. “Who else will be there?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll introduce you.” He pauses, chewing his lip for a second, before gesturing at the door. “I’ve got class, so I’ll...I’ll see you later.”

Your hands tighten round the straps of your backpack. “See you later, Bucky.”

-

Bucky shares a floor with Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers at a block about a ten minute walk from your own, and you use the walk in the chill New York air to calm your jangling nerves. You’re wearing your favourite navy blue dress and have braided your hair and made an effort with your makeup--and you’re not totally sure what for, what you’re expecting. You’re just the quiet girl in Bucky Barnes’ literature class. You don’t know how it got to this.

You’re too awkward to press the buzzer so you message Bucky to let him know you’re outside. Scrolling through your Facebook inbox, your messages have become...quite frequent. Especially at night. You lie on your bed and frantically type until the early hours, only realising it’s 3am before it’s too late.

That’s what friends do, right? Friends. 

(God, you’re so fucking in love with him, aren’t you?)

Bucky’s on the edge of a laugh when he answers the door, but his expression falters into muted surprise as soon as he lays eyes on you on his doorstep. A silly gold party hat is positioned at an angle over his head.

“(Y/N),” he says, and you flush, because the way he says your damn name. He steps aside so you can step in under his arm. “I’m glad you came. Finished The Idiot yet?”

“Onto the last fifty pages.” His house is decked out with balloons and paper chains and the loud pumping of a bass stereo carries from the lounge, alongside the chatter of laughing of guests. You recognise Columbia’s only archer and Olympic hopeful Clint Barton rush up the stairs, holding the hand of a brown haired girl. Bucky rolls his eyes at him and yells already? “I think it might be one of my favourites on the module.”

He leads you through to the kitchen which is empty other than various bottles of alcohol on the table and Natasha Romanoff sitting on the counter. Her red hair hangs effortlessly across her shoulders, lips painted scarlet, wearing a classy black jumpsuit. Natasha Romanoff makes you feel nervous because a) she’s the kind of girl you could never be and b) she’s the kind of girl Bucky Barnes dates. She’s sipping rose out of a wine glass, her eyes discretely looking you up and down.

“Is this the famous (Y/N)?” Natasha asks, her tone intrigued, her lips curved. Bucky laughs bashfully, scratching the back of his head. “Honestly, this guy doesn’t stop talking about you.”

“Sorry?” you gape, looking between her and him. Bucky sends Natasha a glare that signals for her to shut up which only makes her more amused by the situation, leaning back casually. “Uh, I don’t know--”

“Ignore her. She’s insatiable.” Bucky quickly swerves, pressing a glass into your hand. “Would you like a drink? We have pretty much everything imaginable. Natasha has plenty of wine she’d love to share.”

Natasha is totally unaffected, already looking at her mobile phone. She flicks a hand at a line of bottles next to the microwave. “Feel free, honey.”

You’re not a big drinker as you don’t often frequent cool college parties and you’ve been drunk a grand total of one time after one too many glasses of champagne on new year’s eve. Bucky seems to see this in your face.

“You don’t have to drink, obviously,” he says kindly, “But if you mix a bit of soda with rose it actually tastes kinda nice. Much better than beer, anyway.”

“Okay,” you nod, letting him mix the drink for you. He’s remarkably careful, pouring the tiniest amount from one of Natasha’s bottles and topping it up with sprite. He grabs a beer for himself, cracking off the lid with his teeth.

“You know you’re not impressive when you do that,” Natasha says drolly, even though she hasn’t looked up from her phone.

“(Y/N) was impressed,” Bucky says with a wink. You try and keep straight-faced but yeah, come on. You were.

“Of course she was impressed,” Natasha interjects, “You’re both stupidly in love with each other but too polite to make a move.”

Bucky flips her off before pressing a gentle hand in the small of your back, ushering you away from her. “She’s drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!”

You sip your drink, wondering if your palms will ever stop sweating. Natasha can’t be right. She isn’t right. Or is she? No, she can’t be, because this is Bucky Barnes and you’re you.

-

Bucky’s friends are actually kinda nice. Really nice, in fact. You’ve always been intimidated by Steve Rogers’ reputation on campus but he might be one of the sweetest guys you’ve ever met, instantly welcoming and eager to get you involved with the games he’s beginning to set up. Sam Wilson is bold and blunt, but he grins mischievously and gives Bucky a pointed look when he introduces you and snaps a party hat to your head. In various corners of the apartment you see people you vaguely recognise from school, names burning at the edges of your memory but ultimately escaping you. 

Steve sets up the table for beer pong and Bucky clutches your wrist, beckoning you over to play (and cutting short your conversation with a very interesting business major called Pepper). Steve and Sam are on one side while you and Bucky are apparently on the other--Steve’s positioned himself so he’s directly in view of a British exchange student with big eyes on the other side of the room. 

(Aside from your own, you’re actually pretty observant when it comes to potential romantic encounters.)

“Just so you know,” Sam stares hard at the two of you, pointing with two fingers, “It’s my birthday, so I have to win. It’s the rules.”

“I don’t think you have to worry,” you reply, looking up at Bucky. His expression is warm, his arms desperately close to yours. “I’m probably going to be pretty rubbish at this.”

“Buck’s a good teacher,” Steve says, grabbing a ping-pong ball and handing it over to Sam. He rolls it between his fingers, his face scrunched in mock seriousness. “But we’ve all had plenty of practice.”

“Too much practice, arguably,” Bucky drawls. “And Wilson, don’t you think for one second that (Y/N) and I are going to let you win under any circumstances.”

“I don’t need you to let me win,” Sam says, before perfectly throwing the ball into one of the cups near the front. He stands back smugly, crossing his arms over his chest, as the rest of the room whoops. “I think you’ll find I possess the skills for victory, fair and square.”

You laugh as Bucky rolls his eyes, picking up the plastic cup filled halfway with lukewarm beer. He keeps eye contact as he knocks the whole thing back, wiping his lip emphatically once he’s done. “That’s it. The game is on.”

-

Admittedly, it get’s to a point where it’s pretty close. You almost visibly bristle as Bucky tries to show you the ropes, positioning your hips with his hands and following your aim as you try (and often fail) to pit the ball in one of the opposite team’s plastic cups. Whenever you score he yelps dramatically, high-fiving you, and his grin is borderline magical.

(Natasha watches bemusedly from the sidelines, making dry comments here and there. It’s like she’s checking you out for herself. Assessing you.)

It get’s to the point where there is only one cup left on either side and the tension is palpable. Limbs are floppier from downing liquor, the aim repeatedly more off--your stomach is warm and your feet feel light--and Bucky’s palms ghost your waist as you concentrate on what could be the winning put. Sam and Steve try and distract you by dancing ridiculously to an ABBA track playing out the speakers, but Bucky’s words of encouragement are what filter through. You take a deep breath and throw, only exhaling when your ball lands with a triumphant plop in the central solo cup.

Bucky throws his fist in the air before grabbing you and spinning you round, his laugh ecstatic in your ear. You cling onto his neck, your fingers barely millimeters from entangling in his hair, before he plants you down on the ground again. Well. You think you’re on the ground. You might as well be in the clouds.

“A round of applause for the winning shot,” Bucky says, holding your hand and lifting your arm so you can take your bow (which you do with pleasure). Steve and Sam pretend to be reluctant, but they clap anyway.

“I’ll allow it, this once, (Y/N),” Sam answers bemusedly, coming round to the other side of the table. “But if you try and upstage me on my birthday again there will be consequences.”

You feel more confident now, more like these people are your friends. So you grin, feeling the magnetic pull of Bucky to his side from next to you. “I’ll try not to. Promise.”

Sam hums, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder. “Come on, Barnes. You can go mix me a drink.”

Bucky shrugs, asking if you want anything from the kitchen while he’s on his way there, but you shake your head. You’re happy right now with what you have.

-

Natasha approaches you while you’re waiting outside the bathroom. Someone--you think he’s called Rhodey--emerges and offers you a salute and you’re about to go in, but Natasha grabs your hand and pulls you in with her and locks the door behind you.

You’re so astonished you’re not sure what to say. She brushes the hair away from her neck, back facing you.

“I need someone to unzip me,” she declares like it’s obvious, indicating towards the zipper halfway down her back. “Do you mind?”

“No,” you blink, hand nimbly reaching forward to drag the zipper down her back. Even her back is flawless, like porcelain, a tattoo of what looks like a spider curling up from her waist. “Of course not, no.”

She sits on the toilet unabashedly and doesn’t ask you to look away but of course, you do, because this whole situation feels very strange indeed. The wall is plain and blue and spotted with mildew, probably damp from the shower. Like all student accommodation. It feels weird looking at damp while Natasha Romanoff, beautiful as she is, literally pees behind you.

“I care about Bucky a lot,” she says suddenly, “I’ve known him a long time. Way before college, way before we--dated. I love him, but not in the way you think. And I know what he’s like, what the signs are.”

You shift your feet uncomfortably. “The signs of what?”

She audibly sighs out of frustration. “Honestly, it sounds like you’re both as bad as each other. I know--I know when he’s falling for somebody. You’d think, I know you think, that somebody like him...he’d have no problem with it. And maybe if he cared a little less and felt less intensely he wouldn’t.”

“I’m not sure...”

The toilet flushes. Natasha rises and turns back to you and you dutifully zip her back up while she washes her hands, looking at your reflection in the mirror. When you’re stood side by side like this it really does emphasise the differences between you, but also the similarities. She’s a girl. So are you. Girls, despite what every atom of her being exudes. 

“You know exactly what I mean, (Y/N).” She smiles crookedly, wiping her hands on a towel. “Just--treasure him, yeah? He deserves it. I get a feeling you both do.”

She doesn’t look back at you as she leaves, closing the door behind her.

-

Bucky gives you one of his old football jerseys to walk home in because it’s past midnight and you didn’t bring your own. He also insists on walking you home. And you feel nervous, not just because you’re alone with him for the first time this evening, but also because Natasha’s words circle the back of your mind like a tape cassette stuck on loop. You know exactly what I mean, (Y/N).

“Can I ask you something?” you question, arms crossed as your steps echo on the sidewalk. The street is surprisingly deserted--it’s usually crowded with students, all sorts. Tonight, it is quiet.

Bucky looks over at you quizzically, but intrigued. “Yeah. Shoot.”

“Why me?” When he looks perplexed, you laugh awkwardly and continue on. “Connie Taylor is in our Russian lit class, too, and she’s way prettier than me and like...she’s been trying to get you to notice her all semester and yet.” You scrunch your nose as you look up at him, examining his features. His jawline. The hair that falls into his eyes. His naturally flushed cheeks. The party hat he’s yet to take off. Him. Him him him. “You always come to me.”

He bites the inside of his cheek. “Connie Taylor seems perfectly nice. But Connie isn’t you. I like you.” You arrive at the door of your block and he pauses, shoes scuffing into the ground. “She’s not prettier than you, or smarter than you, or any of the reasons you’ve inevitably thought in your head as to why you think she’s more deserving of anything than you. And I find it vaguely insulting that because...I don’t know, play football, that I could only be interested in one kind of person.”

You look away. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“No, I know.” He steps closer so that the toes of your shoes are almost touching. His hand searches in the darkness for your own. Squeezing your small fingers between his, scarred and scraped from football practice. “(Y/N), I like you because you’re funny and kind and intelligent. I like it when you message me about books, I like it when you save me a seat in lectures, I like it when you explain every single point you make so everyone in the class can understand it. I like so many things about you, and you need to get it out your head that because you’re not Connie Taylor that this can’t be true.”

“No-one ever notices me, Bucky,” you murmur quietly, “And I don’t say that for sympathy, or whatever. I say that because that’s how it’s always been.”

You both stare into each other and for one agonising, aching moment you think he might let go of your hand, snuff every spark out like a candle. But instead--instead he ducks in, covering your lips in a soft post-midnight kiss, his mouth warm and tasting faintly like beer. He snatches the breath from your lungs.

“Do you believe me now?” he whispers, hands curving round your jaw. You want to close your eyes, remember this feeling forever. Trap it all in a polaroid. “You are so fucking special. Everyone but you can see it, and it’s so frustrating.”

You kiss his palm, letting your lips linger on his skin for a moment longer. “Thank you for inviting me tonight. I had a really great time.”

His smile is faint but there, nonetheless. “I knew you would. I hope this means you’ll be willing to come out with me again sometime.”

“I think I would like that.”

He unravels from you, not before ducking in for one last sweet, beautiful kiss. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“‘Night, Bucky.”

Your hands remain clasped together until he’s far enough away from you, dropping your hand and grinning as he’s eventually lost in darkness. You have to hover for a second with your keycard in your hand, trying to gather your thoughts, process the events of the evening. Bucky Barnes like you. He likes you, not in spite of you, but because you’re you.

When you collapse on your bed you map the constellations of cracks on your ceiling, your heart thumping and your mind almost one hundred percent him.

-

“you and i, it’s as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to Earth together, to see if we know what we were taught.”

y/n. it’s 2am and doctor zhivago is making me cry.

also sam has made me drink sambuca

i wish i was crying over russian books with you

even though ur probably asleep

that’s cool

hope ur having sweet dreams

:)

miss you

-

my masterlist

send me a request

[cloveroctobers]

CHELSEA ELLE HODGSON —

IG info/Bio: @/chelseaaahodecor | 109k followers | hi babes! welcome to my life lovelies, please get comfy with this Prosecco im serving thru this screen! xx here’s my site if you need some light in ur life: ichelseahdgsondesigns.com 🏝💕

24 (25) years

From Buckinghamshire, England

Comes from a wealthy family

her father’s side of the family founded, “Hodgson investments” their company is built off of financial services

Her papo (grandfather) was arrested on tax invasion & served some time for doing so

Her father, Alistair now manages the company but under a different name

Her mother’s side of the family comes from old money...something about horses?

Her mother, Connie holds many events and seems to make $ from them but Chelsea isn’t quite sure what the woman does or if it’s fully legal

The family is all about protecting their image & if you don’t cut it, there will be repercussions

Feels a little like dynasty (I’ve only seen 2-3 episodes & never finished but get the point?) , maybe that’s why Chelsea & her sister enjoy watching it so much

Parents forsure held courtship events or either went to courtship events with their children (even Albie) & found suitors in hopes of marrying their daughters off (& finding Albie a new wife, only on Mrs. Hodgson’s part— mr. Hodgson seems nicer/easy-going)

Has older twin sibs: Albie-Crispin & Dolly-Georgiana

Often referred to as “the triplet” in the press

Well-known in their city

They’re all called by their first & middle name in their family household even tho their parents do not have middle names

Has a love/hate relationship with albie, he is selfish & has proven to do anything to drag others down to make himself look better

He’s a lawyer & has been married to his wife for about 7 years

Mrs. Hodgson, Dolly, & Chelsea all agree they do not like her but Chelsea puts on a smile whenever her sister-in-law is around while Mrs. Hodgson makes it known that she dislikes the woman, she thinks she’s beneath her son since her family does not make nearly enough $ put together between her & Mr. Hodgson

Dolly has a bf who’s a dental hygentist that she’s been dating for about 3 years but they’re both cheating on each other, she doesn’t think she’ll ever be married

She’s in office management

Chelsea fell in love with interior decorating from the moment she played with doll houses. Her grandparents made sure to send her the biggest doll houses they could find every Christmas. She’s always been in love with rearranging and picking certain items and best putting them into a space that works

She shit at drawing (she’ll leave that to the Architects) but she knows her furniture & patterns quite well

Has asked a few architects out on dates, some she worked with or stumbled across, only one seemed like it could have truly worked...I imagine him to look a bit like Henry Cavill with light facial hair (told you I’m a sucker for it, & Chelsea probably can tolerate just a bit not too much)

Yet Chelsea always has a wondering eye, she gets curious quite often which makes you wonder, is she really ready for love? To fully commit? One day she will be

It’s a competitive field and when she’s ready to battle she will but there are moments when she gets let down & has to pick herself up again

Has ADHD, goes to therapy for it & hates taking her meds. She’d rather stick to therapy sessions since it’s always nice to talk to someone

When she was younger she probably stole a friend or two’s bf & would definitely get mad if they did it back to her but they somehow still end up being friends in the end? Yikes

Hung out with the popular kids, was always at the parties making sure everyone was having a good time. Filling up the cups, directing where furniture should be moved, where the kegs should go, how many people should be there, etc...She doesn’t seem like the stuck up type like her mother but she is privileged & doesn’t realize it as much

Was a cheerleader & ran track, quit track to commit full-time to cheerleading since that kept her in shape enough

Dated here & there, had one bf where they would scream at each other and wouldn’t allow the other to leave or would be upset that the other didn’t come after them...yeah one of those couples

Broke up with her goth bf because he didn’t tell her he wasn’t coming to school for about a week; he had the stomach flu

Canon: Took a computer course in high school & in uni & found out she was at the top of her class for typing the fastest, she now loves the sound of her short pink ombré nails on the keys

Canon: Wanted to be a show jumper due to her mother’s side of the family & their history with horses

Goes to the stables every now & then, there’s one horse there that she’s absolutely in love with & loves to ride. Her father always offered to buy it for her but it’s not a animal she wants to own

Canon: loves finger foods + will get full off them at events quickly. She also doesn’t mind the tiny portions of food at expensive ass restaurants, it’s just enough for her

Takes hair supplements. Probably had long hair growing up that she always kept up in a bun or ponytail but decided to start chopping her hair off & getting layers & highlights which damaged her hair

Approves of plastic surgery

Is part of the itty bitty titty community & got a lift for them

Gets lip fillers for her bottom lip but isn’t a fan of needles + overlines her top lip

loves going to the dermatologist, the spa for facials & whatever else she’s willing to try & finding new skincare to buy

Tans & loves tropical hot summers

Buys an overload of bikinis even in the winter

Hates the rain, it messes with her mood

Loves a good lipstick & lipgloss combo, nudes & pinks are her to go to’s

Fav color is pink

Got herself a guinea pig after the show & named her “bubbly” after her baby in the villa

I feel like she would eventually get a tiny dog too

Has her own flat, that’s quite far from all of her family. She loves her dysfunctional problematic family but Chelsea likes her space from them too

Since buckinghamshire’s culture is more of a Middle Ages style, Chelsea made sure her home wouldn’t hold much of that style inside. It needed to be lively! Her family home was filled with dark wood & she can’t stand that

She loves going to the markets tho. She always seems to leave with something & either finds herself not liking it months later and ends up selling whatever item caught her interest

Her family tends to pop in whenever they want, especially her mother

Canon: talks about cat cafe’s when she’s drunk, says its her version of the chocolate factory + she’s the dancing drunk

Always down for a girls night out, girls trip & girls sleepovers

Probably goes to bed early around 10pm or earlier m if she’s not out having the time of her life, which makes her regret her choices the next morning

All her closest friends back home are a group of girls

Hangs out with Priya, Marisol, & Hope from the villa whereas the rest she’ll mostly communicate with them through socials or gatherings

Will host gatherings & expect them ALL to show up

Is dramatic when things don’t go her way

Loses focus more than gets bored in relationships? She’ll find other things or people to occupy her time which she doesn’t realize can be hurtful to others

When she does realize she hurts someone, she immediately wants to fix it

Canon: Is a blabbermouth. Cannot hold a secret for shit, also cannot tell a lie. Her body language gives it away first if she doesn’t spill it

Retail therapy is the best therapy if she doesn’t have a office appointment

Any spice girl song will be her karaoke song, she is always baby spice

Loves her Prosecco (me too sis!) & keeps plenty bottles in her wine fridge. She originally wanted a space with a wine cellar but got creeped out at the thought since it’s just her & bubbly living in the home

Has high cell phone bills, the girl loves a good chat

Cannot cook no matter how hard she tries. She’s been to cooking classes with an ex, watched videos, order from those food delivery sites to prepare food & it just never turns out well

Will spend hours in furniture stores, she’s had to be escorted out pass closing hours by security guards before & manage to make friends out of them. They all know who she is in majority of the stores she enters

Throws a party every time her following goes up. There’s never not a reason to throw one

Was upset that Carl unfollowed her once and figured Hannah made him do it. Which wasn’t true, Hannah was sure of herself now & doesn’t feel the need to be jealous, the man could follow whoever he wanted—she knew he barely stayed on IG in the first place. He thought it was too shallow

So when Chelsea called him one night sobbing he was utterly confused, he didn’t understand why a follow meant so much

He reluctantly followed her back

Thrilled to know Elijah, Lucas, & Carl all keep up with her. Oh & the rest of the boys ofc!

Chats with Jakub! They also hang out. They’re a bit of a odd pairing but they get along well, he’s basically another big brother to her but she actually likes him—

Afraid of the dark, keeps fairy lights lit throughout the night in her bedroom, keeps scent infused night lights in her hallways

Believes in feng shui

I feel like her voice is soft like jennifer Tilly’s?

Idk what her sun sign is? Is she a sag far as daydreaming cause she does that. I KNOW she has Leo in her chart, she’s dramatic, warm, likes to be admired & appreciated. Sun sign I need help? Maybe she’s a Sagittarius sun? + Leo moon + libra rising

Has a collection of celeb gossip magazines that she keeps on a stand next to her pink velvet chair beside her bow window

I think she will be the first islander that gets pregnant tbh & it’s by an architect (the guy I mentioned/envisioned that’s been waiting on her to realize he can give her the love she needs or prove he can balance her out) or firefighter or someone “manly” she wouldn’t end up with a islander I don’t think

she has a girl & names her, “adore”

Canon: Still wants 5 kids but we’ll see how that goes & if it’ll change, it’s been a bit difficult not drinking Prosecco but she’s got a lovely baby out of it

Crushes? Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Alfred Enoch, Alex Pettyfer, Joe Cole, Gregg Sulkin, Frank Dillane, Charlie Rowe, & Hero Fiennes Tiffin

Can listen to anything that’s got a good beat. But we all know she’s a pop & folk genre lover. She listens to: Astrid S, Maty Noyes, Cher Lloyd, Bebe Rexha, Allie X, Poppy, POST MALONE, etc.

Anthem? Gabrielle Aplin — Until the sun comes up

[pixie88]

Thanks for the OC Ask for ATB @aussieez 😘

Started at 5th May (Harry’s birthday!) 7:50AM recording the time it takes to finish 🤣🤣🤣 Finished time: 12:34PM I did bits in between.

Q1 -

Harry - Not bother, he'll just unhook it😊

Laila: She'll say something along the lines of "Bloody hell! Stupid handle" and get annoyed trying to unhook it 🤣🤣

Q2 -

H - He's a coffee in the morning and tea the rest of the day.

L - She's a 2 coffees a day kinda girl and a hot chocolate on the colder days.

Q3 -

Both their safe places are their flats, which would look something like these.

Q4 -

H - Probably lying and cheating as he has been cheated on before in the past.

L - I would probably say the same as Harry's lying and cheating.

Q5 -

H - Laila calls him a few pet names like Mr. Muscles, Fluffy bear, handsome but I don't think there is anything else maybe I need to come up with one. 🤔🤔

L - Remy has called her Lulu, Harry calls her the usual pet names like gorgeous and beautiful.

Q6 -

H - Not so much books more health and fitness magazines.

L - Laila loves a Rom-com book when she has time to read.

Q7 -

H - I would say he's a bit of both assertive and shy because of his past.

L - She's definitely assertive.

Q8 -

H - Definitely friendly.

L - She's friendly and a bit of aloof maybe?

Q9 -

H - I think when someone upsets someone he cares about or insults them. Being bullied as a kid I think it would take a lot for someone to anger him if they were to say something about him.

L - Again if someone upsets family or friends.

Q10 -

H - Typical bloke banter makes him laugh or just banter.

L - Laila love chessy jokes and funny banter.

Q11 -

H - He definitely loves to prank and I think I need to bring that out in him a bit more tbh.

L - I think Laila is one that will fall for a prank, maybe even do little ones herself.

Q12 -

H - Harry is a personal trainer so he has to be healthy, he will have the odd day where he won’t work out and eat junk but over all his job is to be fit and well. I would say a good patient.

L - She’s goes for a run most morning but kinda eats what she wants she’s not one for diets etc. I think she could be both a good but also terror patient.

Q13 -

H - As a PT probably gym wear, vest or t-shirt, jogger or shorts and trainers.

L - Normally depends on the weather so either a t-shirt and jeans or a dress.

Q14 -

Both - I would say their both a easy people to please.

Q15 -

H - I would say his blue eyes or his muscles maybe even the fact he’s 6FT.

L - Probably her light brown/grey eyes.

Q16 -

H - Someone who’s honest, confident, bubbly, funny and loyal.

L - Laila likes anyone she puts her guard up but if they break through that she’s pretty much a friend for life. She wants someone who will stick around.

Q17 -

H - He’s soft around everyone.

L - As above Laila is hard on people until she gets to know them and they have gained her trust.

Q18 -

H -

L -

Q19 -

H - Probably at school when he was bullied about his weight. Maybe even when Gemma cheated on him.

L - I would say when Josh took his own life it did take Laila 8 years to get over him.

Q20 -

Both - Nope I don’t think they do maybe just each other.

Q21 -

H - Cheesy answer probably his girlfriend, he’s not materialist.

L - Probably the necklace Harry got her for her birthday.

Q22 -

H - Being a PT he needs little snacks during the day to keep up his energy.

L - She more of a 3 meal a day kinda girl as at work she doesn’t have time to snack.

Q23 -

H - Burger, steak kinda stuff as 80% of the time he needs to eat healthy.

L - Laila genially loves cooking no matter what it is.

Q24 -

H - Listening with no judgement and help resolve any problems.

L - Finding solutions for any problems.

Q25 -

H - Not sure he finds anything difficult.

L - Open up to people/letting people in.

Q26 -

H - Harry wants a dog but Laila convinced him getting a dog with the hours he works wouldn’t be fair on both the dog or him.

L - Laila is definitely a dog person. I imagine her growing up with Great Danes.

Q27 -

Both - They have nieces and nephews so know kids can be both devils and angels. They are under no illusion that kids are perfect 100% of the time.

Q28 -

Both - I would say Instagram with the jobs they have they can promote on there. I have done a fake insta post not sure if I will use it yet.

Q29 -

H - I would say he’s a pretty organised person with a little laissez-faire.

L - She’s a very organised person. She’s the kinda person that will always be early.

Q30 -

Both - No idea!

Q31 -

H - Harry would go for something a little shiny.

L - More feminine.

Q32 - What they would were to a prom at their ages now not school.

H - face claim wears these kinda suits.

L - I'm thinking something black.

Q33-

H - He’s pretty much friendly and anyone’s friend when he first meets them. His shyness left him when he gain confidence.

L - She pretty dismissive I think she throws banter at people those who can’t hack it normally don’t stick around.

Q34 -

Both can drive.

H - Being a tall lad he needs a biggish car, I picture him with an Audi Q5 but he doesn’t drive like an Audi w****r!

L - More eco friendly living in London the smaller the car the easier to get around right? She has a hybrid (I rented this when my car broke down a few years ago if we only had 2 kids this would be my car. I loved it! #dreamcar) Toyota C-HR it's small but beasty.

Q35 -

H - He’s attracted to someone who is good looking but has something about them and plays hard to get, he likes a bit of a chase and makes him work.

L - She just wants someone who’s a little easy on the eye, confident, gets her banter and gives it back.

Q36-

Both - I don’t think there is anything about either of them that hasn’t made it onto the page.

Q37 -

H - Is that possible? He is a big lad, so pretty sure he’ll be hard to kidnap.

L - I would say pending on the chapters I have released Harry would kidnap her for some kinky reasons. If all my drafts were out it would be someone else.

Q38 -

H - I would say he would unwind with a nice hot bath and snuggles with his girl.

L - Probably just chill watching tv and snacking.

Q39 -

H - Guilty pleasure...is probably binge watching a series Laila has made him watch but one he would never admit to his friends about watching.

L - Rolling over to Harry’s side of the bed when he’s left for work because it smells of him.

Q40 -

H - Call the police as he goes on a hunt for the mugger himself.

L - Call the police and make sure their OK, be their shoulder to cry on.

Q41 -

H - He’d probably punch they back in the face if it was a bloke but if it was a girl he’ll back away and try and calm her down.

L - Laila would hit back no matter the gender.

Q42 -

H - Yes, in fact it is there birthday date today 5th May.

L - Yeah, I have a 3000 word chapter of how! Hers is 5th August.

Q43 -

Both - N/A - They don’t play them kinda games.

Q44 -

@aussieez​ feel free to correct me if you think different 😉

H - I would say would be in Hufflepuff.

L - I think maybe Gryffindor.

Q45 -

H - He’s a Taurus.

L - Of course she is a Leo.

Q46 -

Both - Neither of them are religious.

Q47 -

H - He blushes when someone does something nice but he is grateful they have taken the time to do it.

L - Gets overwhelmed and sometime emotional too.

Q48 -

H - He will cry in really happy moments like if Laila said yes to marrying him or if they just had a baby (Not that this is on the cards anytime soon just an example). He doesn’t get annoyed easily.

L - Laila will cry at anything even TV shows. She gets angry or annoyed easy and if she’s hanger Harry knows he better get her food soon.

Q49 -

H - I would say Harry’s biggest fear right now is losing Laila whether it be harm coming to her or her cheating (No that won’t happen well maybe one has in drafts).

L - Again she has lost someone via a horrible illness so she’s also scared to lose Harry.

Q50 -

Both - I think it depends on their day they can both be light/heavy sleeper and have dreams/nightmares.

Lets see your answers: @aussieez​ @secretaryunpaid​ @shewillreadyou​ @lem-20​ @khoicesbyk​ @irisofpurple​