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jihyocentric · 2 months ago

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“so you want to make her jealous?”

jihyo hums at the question, with her eyes closed, breathing slow and deep. she had been attentively listening to a song playing idly in jeongyeon’s room, a haze in her mind caused by the amount of times jeongyeon had her head between her thighs.

it would take jihyo a lot more than getting dressed (with a shirt much bigger than her, coated in jeongyeon’s scent) and the minutes waiting for jeongyeon to return to the bed for jihyo to stop feeling jeongyeon’s hands — everywhere on her body, from her neck to her ankles.

while waiting, jihyo has to shut her legs tightly to avoid thinking about the way jeongyeon had handled her, apparently into new positions, certainly rougher she used to be. jihyo had been deprived from physical touch, deplorably so, but she knew better than to make jeongyeon return to the warmth between her legs, both sore and entirely too tired for more.

“not jealous,” jihyo says like a whisper, her voice faltering, throat dry after the amount of careless, loud cries jeongyeon inflicted on her. “i want to make her regret.”

sitting is almost uncomfortable, despite the softness of the mattress, and jihyo dismisses the ache, satisfied with it, blessedly sore.

jeongyeon hands her a bowl with instant ramen, all she could do that late at dawn, and leaves a cup of water on the nightstand for jihyo, taking a seat beside her. she looked no better than jihyo, with fresh scratches on her arms, bottom lip red and puffed from the amount of times jihyo had sunk her teeth on it — but surely more composed.

“a bit sudden,” jeongyeon grabs her fork, tummy aching from a hunger she could hardly notice moments back, now more evident as her focus was no longer on her friend. “you both made a cute couple. i thought sana was decent.”

“decent?” jihyo laughs shortly, her voice low, barely audible. “how come you’re only saying that after eating out her ex for…” jihyo glances at the clock jeongyeon kept on her nightstand. 3 a.m. “four hours. wow. is this a new record?”

“as if i wouldn’t do that even if she was decent.” jeongyeon chuckles, crossing her legs, elbows aligned with her knees as she held her own bowl of ramen. “’sides i have the right to. met you first and all.”

jihyo laughs, “and almost dated me.”

“and almost dated you.” jeongyeon nods, playfully agreeing with her. “i’m glad she was the one for you back then. i could’ve ended up in her place.”

jihyo grabs the cup of water jeongyeon had promptly left for her, chugging half of it in one go. it still wasn’t enough for her throat to hurt less, temporarily damaged from all the moaning she did and jeongyeon squeezing her neck, but she would have to deal with it if she wanted to eat.

“you wouldn’t.” jihyo says, reminiscing a time no longer than two years ago when jeongyeon was more than a casual acquaintance, but the one she called weekly to have sex with. an acquaintance with benefits, if anything. “you’re honest. never lied to me, even when you didn’t owe me anything. sana cheated, after two years in our relationship.”

“yeah, i don’t do that,” jeongyeon mixes the noodles with her fork. “if this isn’t asking too much… what did she say when you found out?”

“she was surprised. she said it was a mistake, that she did it only once, told me she wouldn’t give up on me,” jihyo sighs, forgetting about her hunger for a brief moment. “but the other girl was nayeon.”

jeongyeon squeezes jihyo’s knee tenderly. “sorry i asked.” which jihyo replies with a small ‘it’s okay now’. “now that’s fucked up.”

“tell me about it.” jihyo lets out a meek laugh. “i’m no longer angry at nayeon. if she did that to me, then she was never my best friend in the first place. i’m fine with cutting her off and forgetting she was ever in my life. but sana… sana thinks i’m going back to her. i know she does- she talked about it to her friends. one of them was kind enough to tell me she sees me as a prize. told me to keep my decision of breaking up with her.”

“damn.” jeongyeon breathes out. “there’s another way i could fix this for you, y’know. she looks like she can’t handle more than two punches.”

jihyo considers jeongyeon’s offer, knowing she was joking, but there was some truth behind her words. “i want her to see me happy with somebody else. it’s all i’ve been thinking about. sana is in love with me- even if she says these things to her friends, she likes me…” jihyo affirms with sheer conviction, her eyes darker, not usually fond of revenge, but sana incited that feeling on her like nobody else had. “and you’re the perfect candidate.”

“i’m honored,” jeongyeon puts her bowl on a table next to the bed, more than half of it eaten. “i do know how to make you happy.”

jeongyeon takes the freedom to give jihyo’s bowl the same ending, making jihyo’s back hit the headboard, their hips side to side to each other, in a good position for jeongyeon to kiss her. jihyo closes her eyes by instinct when jeongyeon starts fixing her hair, leaving a lock behind her ear.

“it’s not because of that, though.” jihyo says, hand on jeongyeon’s waist when jeongyeon leans closer and kisses her neck. “it’s because you can do it and make it look real without falling in love with me. without it being weird.”

“i don’t do girlfriends, but i guess i’m just a natural, huh?” jeongyeon laughs softly against her neck, then pulls her face away just barely. “that wasn’t a record, by the way. we’ve gone at it for more than 6 whole hours,” she lowers her voice, “i still remember how you got me all wet towards the end, think you could do that again?”

jihyo hums. “i’m sore.”

jeongyeon brushes her nose against hers. “i’ll be gentle.”

“jeongyeon…” jihyo mutters, even wetter when jeongyeon has her hand on her thigh.

“this will be my part of the deal.”

and so it was.

jeongyeon was never an option for jihyo and neither was jihyo an option for jeongyeon.

they were honest about it when they started having their casual encounters. there wasn’t a problem in them not wanting to have a relationship, really, they were able to enjoy what they had without taking any further steps, and perhaps it was even better that way.

jeongyeon had been the one to talk about it first. jihyo was an amazing girl, the type people would fall for at first sight, but jeongyeon didn’t see a future in them as a couple, and neither did jihyo. and so, having a casual affair was easy for them, until jihyo met sana and fell in love with her.

jihyo and jeongyeon, despite ending what they had in a cordial way, simply didn’t keep a regular friendship after that, as there was no reason for them to do so — they would still meet up at times, given that their friend groups were also friends between each other, but nothing more than that.

still, there was something about jeongyeon that makes jihyo trust her. they barely ever spoke, but when they did it was as if jihyo was talking to a friend of years rather than only someone she had seemingly endless, hungry sex with.

beyond that, jeongyeon was someone who could truly understand her, and jihyo figured jeongyeon felt the same way about her. they immediately linked, and yet dating each other was never a subject between them — things were simply already good as they were.

“won’t it be a little weird, though? i had a thing with momo last summer,” jeongyeon asks, carrying both hers and jihyo’s suitcases to the back of jihyo’s car.

“dahyun isn’t the jealous type,” jihyo says, mindlessly texting momo, telling her they’d arrive before noon — until she really understands what jeongyeon had told her. “you and momo?”

jeongyeon puts the lid of the trunk down, closing it without using much strength. “…and it’s summer again, so it’s been what? a year? she probably doesn’t remember we had a thing.”

laughing slightly at jihyo’s frown, jeongyeon makes her way to the driver’s seat. jihyo follows, sitting on the passenger’s seat, hardly aware that that was her car and that she hadn’t agreed for jeongyeon to drive beforehand.

“did you have a thing with any other friend that i have?” jihyo asks, crossing her legs and putting on the seat belt. without making a complaint, she takes her car key and hands it to jeongyeon — jeongyeon decides not to make any comments about the picture of her cat for a keychain, knowing jihyo was serious about him. “careful with the car.”

“not that i know of,” jeongyeon shrugs, replying to jihyo’s question. with the key already in it’s place, jeongyeon twists it to get the car’s engine running. “i know what you’re thinking. i don’t sleep with that many girls. you were my first this year.”

jihyo hums. “and i know what you are thinking,” she looks at jeongyeon. “i’m not jealous, it’s just… interesting that you did it with my friend.”

“it was just a one-time thing. no, three-times thing.” jeongyeon mutters. “no big deal at all.”

jihyo looks at the window instead, arms crossed. “you were the one talking about it being weird anyway.”

jeongyeon smiles when jihyo pouts, doing it mindlessly. when the road is emptier, she places her hand over jihyo’s thigh and tells her to take a picture, all so that sana would know jihyo had someone else even before they arrived at their destiny.

they only had a week to do revenge, so every minute counted. the plan was to act as a couple in love during their friend trip — they went to momo’s beach house along with a couple more friends, and sana would be there, because sana was friends with momo. they certainly fought when momo found out sana had cheated on jihyo, but after an entire month of ghosting her, momo was more willing to forgive her.

to a great extent, it happened because jihyo assured momo that she was over sana, even told her to invite sana to their week out of town. despite being reluctant and having her differences with sana herself, unable to fully trust sana as a friend, momo did as jihyo said, assuming jihyo wanted sana to be there for her own reasons.

it’s already nighttime when they arrive, and nights at that side of the estate were as cold as the mornings were hot.

jeongyeon hardly needs a facade to treat jihyo well, so she wraps her own jacket around her when they’re out of the warmth of the car, telling her she’d get hot by using her muscles to carry their suitcases — which is an entire lie. jeongyeon shivers behind jihyo, but soon momo is opening the door for them and the cold is no longer as much of a nuisance.

“finally,” momo greets jihyo with a hug. “i was getting worried.”

“jeongyeon is a slow driver.” jihyo complains, clearly playful, but jeongyeon still lets go of their luggage and passes an arm behind her neck, messing with her hair in response.

“god forbid a woman drives safely.” jeongyeon kisses the top of jihyo’s head, speaking softly.

if momo was trying to mask her surprise to see that jihyo was, by what it looked, with jeongyeon, then she did a poor job, visibly taken aback, but she could only feel relief — if jihyo was with jeongyeon, then jihyo wasn’t there to get back with sana, which none of their friends would like to happen.

however, she couldn’t say the same about sana, who was there with a goal that she hid behind a wall of glass.

“i would congratulate you two now, but you’ll already hear a lot from the other girls,” momo grabs a suitcase. “come on, let’s put these in a room and come back,” she tells jeongyeon, as if jihyo wasn’t invited to go with her, then looks at jihyo. “the girls are setting the table.”

jihyo nods, knowing where to go. “be quick,” she tells the both of them.

“why wouldn’t we?” momo laughs, grabbing jeongyeon’s arm as she leaves with her, not waiting for jihyo’s answer.

jihyo doesn’t worry at all about them — momo probably wanted to have a talk with her, but jihyo was sure it was nothing related to their brief past. she makes her way to the dining room, still surprised at how big the place was, despite that not being her first time there. the last time they stayed there, she was with sana, in a happy relationship.

now, the both of them stood relatively far from each other, no longer together, hardly able to look at each other’s eyes. jihyo isn’t surprised to find her there, knowing that would happen, but she was hoping jeongyeon would be with her when it happened.

dahyun, mina and tzuyu do a great job breaking the ice, the three of them rushing to give her a hug as soon as they spot her and then they are flooding her with questions about her new girlfriend, none of them minding the fact that sana was there.

“i’ll tell you everything,” jihyo smiles. “let momo and jeongyeon come back and we’ll tell you what you want to know,” she assures. “how can i help?”

once the table is set and momo and jeongyeon join them, instead of making things awkward by letting the silence prevail, dahyun makes the question they all were curious about. especially sana, who knew jihyo had company, but she didn’t know it was yoo jeongyeon.

sana didn’t know jeongyeon. at least not enough, only that she was an acquaintance of momo and tzuyu, and that jihyo also knew her. whatever else sana knew about jeongyeon was far from substantial. the only thing she remembers, quite vividly, is that jeongyeon is a guitarist — momo might have told her when she introduced them to each other. other than a handshake, sana had never had any contact with jeongyeon.

“so, how did this happen? i thought jeongyeon would never do dating,” dahyun asks, apparently not jealous or upset about her short-term affair with momo in the past.

“so did i,” jihyo laughs, jeongyeon’s hand automatically finding hers under the table. “she rejected me because of that two years ago. but we met again last month and… well, things just happened.”

it wasn’t a complete lie, truly. jeongyeon surely hadn’t rejected her, but they did only meet again after jihyo broke up with sana, met alone, that is.

jeongyeon wasn’t a rebound by any means, but someone who made her company and gave her what she couldn’t have otherwise — pleasure and enough intimacy to talk about the things she needed off her chest. now, rather than an acquaintance with benefits, she was a friend with even more benefits. certainly an upgrade.

“it wasn’t rejection,” jeongyeon defends herself. “back then i just couldn’t see us as we are now. maybe if we got together two years ago, we wouldn’t be together now. everything has a purpose,” jeongyeon says, seemingly wise, and perhaps that was too good of an answer, because jihyo could almost believe her.

“that was actually a sweet comeback,” jihyo says, a smile on her lips, half genuine, half part of the act.

sana keeps silent where she is, both melancholic and irritated about the fact that their friends seemed to be quite happy for jihyo. she felt betrayed, ironically so, because two years back was when she met jihyo. still it seemed likely to be true, because when she met jeongyeon, jihyo already knew her as well.

momo noses in. “so you’re a real deal now, huh? never thought i’d see the day yoo jeongyeon got a girlfriend. jihyo must be special.”

“of course she is,” jeongyeon answers in a heartbeat, meaning her words. to sound less cheesy, she adds: “she deserves the best… and i am the best.”

“okay!” with the exception of sana, who remains quiet the entire time, the girls boo her — even jihyo, which makes jeongyeon pout.

“we should probably start eating now. to keep jeongyeon’s mouth busy and stuff,” momo mutters, prying on what mina and dahyun had prepared.

“jeongyeon’s, sure,” dahyun teases, knowing momo was beyond starving, no matter how many snacks she ate while waiting for the food.

when the others are not looking, jeongyeon inches her face closer to jihyo’s mouth next to her ear. “what if i want something else to keep my mouth busy?”

jihyo’s cheeks heat up, mind rewinding to only a few moments before they arrived there, in the car — and jeongyeon was already asking for more of it. jihyo had almost forgotten how insatiable they could be together, but that was part of why they got along so well. “greedy. but you deserve it.”

“i do.” jeongyeon kisses her shoulder softly, pulling away then. she reaches for a strand of hair close to jihyo’s mouth, putting it back in place with the rest of her hair, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the other girls, yet no one mentions it.

the entire time that they have dinner, sana stares at them. jihyo acts normal, she ignores sana and focuses on what is being said, sometimes smiling at jeongyeon when she kisses her shoulder or touches her arms or waist, refusing to look at sana, knowing that doing so would be seeking for validation, which she didn’t need. all jihyo really needed from sana was for her to break the same way that she did.

(by the end of the night, jihyo was only more certain that jeongyeon was the perfect candidate, and the best part of it all was it hardly felt like pretending.)

“you’re red.” jihyo tells jeongyeon, spreading sunscreen on her face a second time, only an hour after applying the first layer.

jeongyeon was relaxes on the beach chair as jihyo settles on her lap in order to do her task, amazed with how jeongyeon’s cheeks were crimson due to the sun.

jeongyeon had stubbornly rejected staying under the sunshade, wanting to stick close to jihyo as she tanned in case somebody tried to hit on her, doing her job as a fake girlfriend too well at that point — but getting her skin nearly sunburnt in the process.

“i don’t come to the beach often,” jeongyeon justifies, barely pouting.

“i can tell.” jihyo taunts, soft hands spreading more sunscreen on jeongyeon’s shoulders. “does this bother you?”

the question rises as a way for jihyo to give jeongyeon an opportunity to set boundaries between them, worried she might be doing too much — sana was looking, she surely was, but jihyo didn’t do it because of that, doing it because jeongyeon wouldn’t wear sunscreen otherwise.

and jeongyeon could decline being looked after by jihyo, free to feel like that was too much, perhaps too intimate, but she didn’t, not bothered about the fact that jihyo had been doting on her as an actual girlfriend would. it wasn’t a bigger deal, however, because jihyo does the same to mina and tzuyu. except from the part where she sits on jeongyeon’s lap, that is.

jeongyeon rests her palm on jihyo’s knee. “not at all. have you always been like this?”

“always. can’t help it,” jihyo smiles, her job finished when she can no longer see the white from the sunscreen on jeongyeon’s skin. “i just wasn’t like this with you because back then it would’ve been weird.”

jeongyeon tilts her head, slightly so. “why is that? i wouldn’t mind it.”

jihyo shrugs. thinking about the past makes her wonder how she managed to not fall in love with jeongyeon at all, but maybe her feelings only really matured after her relationship with sana. she doesn’t see jeongyeon any differently than she used to, yet now jihyo understands that, in the past, reserving certain acts of affection was essential so that her relationship with jeongyeon didn’t develop any further.

for a reason jihyo could hardly fathom, sana managed to make her fall in love in less than a month, whereas she and jeongyeon had been enjoying the benefits of a compromise-free relationship for more than three without any love. still, that was the best way things could’ve turned out to be regardless of the outcome, because if jihyo happened to fall for someone who clearly didn’t want a relationship, that would’ve been perhaps just as stressful as being cheated on.

“i don’t know. i think i would… i kept avoiding doing some things with you that i knew neither of us would want,” jihyo replies, feeling comfortable enough with jeongyeon to talk about how she felt. “in my head there was a limit that i didn’t want to cross, so i didn’t.”

“makes sense.” jeongyeon says, understanding jihyo’s way of thinking.

they remain silent for a brief moment, jeongyeon wondering if she’d been more straightforward than she should’ve been in the past and jihyo curious if what she felt was also the case for jeongyeon. jihyo guesses it was probably not how things were for jeongyeon, because someone who doesn’t want a relationship doesn’t need to methodically reject negligible intimacy in order to avoid unwanted feelings.

it’s not like jihyo wanted a relationship — jeongyeon was an acquaintance. she became a friend after jihyo met sana, but she was an acquaintance and that was all jihyo saw in her, truly, but the fact that jeongyeon had been honest about keeping things as they were made jihyo be more careful, and that was all.

if anything, in the past jihyo was the one who believed they would be better as friends rather than having sexual encounters.

they seemed to be on the same wavelength about everything, and jihyo had the perspective that being a total opposite to her loved one was a basic requirement. as that was her experience with sana, the impression turned out to stick on her, which was why jihyo was no longer afraid of doing things with jeongyeon that she wouldn’t in the past, now in terms with the way they got along in many different ways, especially sex, but not afraid of love suddenly rousing.

“we wouldn’t have time to do these things anyway,” jeongyeon laughs, breaking the sudden silence. “every moment we spent together was either having sex in my apartment or exploring your exhibitionism kink. really good times. for a lawyer you’re quite deviant.”

“there you go. i am not an exhibitionist! that was a one-time thing and you loved it,” jihyo laughs, slapping jeongyeon’s flushed arm, earning a grunt from her. “come on, you can’t be sunburnt.”

“i would hope so,” momo chimes in, standing in front of them. there’s a ball in her hand, which she supports on her hip. “can you play volleyball, yoo? we’re missing a player.”

“can i play volleyball?” jeongyeon laughs, as if momo had made her a silly question. she carefully taps jihyo’s knee, as if asking her to get up, and jihyo allows her to stand, taking jeongyeon’s place on the chair. “hirai, you’re speaking to a former team captain.”

“is that so?” momo beams, eyes shining with sudden enthusiasm — and a glint of mischief. “sana and i used to play on the school team as well. sana was the captain.”

jeongyeon looks at jihyo, not asking for her permission, but wanting to see if she would be opposed to the idea. jihyo doesn’t give her any sort of reaction, despite wishing jeongyeon would win, making it a second win for her that week.

jeongyeon smiles, taking her cap off and putting it on jihyo to keep it safe — messing up her hair in the process and making her frown. “may the best captain win.”

“is that really how the game is or were you trying to hurt her?”

jihyo asks, back at the house with jeongyeon while the girls spent more time on the beach, in charge of making lunch because she was the only one who didn’t play with them. jeongyeon follows her, both wanting to make her company and because she was sunburnt.

“that’s how it is. she didn’t move out of the way because she didn’t want to,” jeongyeon mindlessly replies, grabbing a cup of water for herself. “don’t act like you pity her. bet you loved watching her getting hit by the ball. i can say i did.”

jeongyeon smiles, wishing jihyo could feel the same joy she felt whenever the ball hit sana. the ball wasn’t made of a tough material by all means, yet jeongyeon’s hand was heavy and although her aim wasn’t sana, she was constantly hitting her throughout the game — which was more sana’s fault than it was hers.

“i didn’t know you could be so mean, yoo jeongyeon.” jihyo smiles, only because jeongyeon couldn’t see it as she was facing her back while jihyo looked for ingredients in the fridge.

a sound of steps against the wooden floor isn’t heard at all by jihyo and jeongyeon, who are in the kitchen, entirely too occupied with their dialogue to notice someone else had left the beach as well.

sana makes her way back after taking a swim, her face red from the amount of times the ball hit her, holding her tears back. sana wasn’t sad but angry — angry at her loss and angry at jeongyeon, who was nothing but a nuisance, in her way to get what she was there for.

jeongyeon leaves her empty cup on the counter, walking towards jihyo, following her when she moves somewhere else, opening a cabinet. jeongyeon stands behind her, both hands on jihyo’s waist.

while jihyo had hardly noticed someone else was in the house, jeongyeon feels a presence behind them, which only fuels her actions, mouth close to jihyo’s ear as if she wanted to keep it between them, but sana could still hear everything.

at that point, even without being able to distinguish what they were saying, sana would still be heated up, even more so when they were so close, when jeongyeon did what she used to do.

“need help, princess?” jeongyeon asks, voice suddenly raspy, using a term she has only used with jihyo a couple of times, only when favorable enough — mostly when they were both bare, doing what they deemed they did best.

“i can reach it,” jihyo says, pretending as if what jeongyeon did had no effect on her, pride hurt at jeongyeon’s implication that she was short.

she stands on her tip toes, trying to get a pan from the cabinet, questioning why momo kept those there when she wouldn’t be able to get them either. sana watches them, the pain on her face and shoulders hardly bothering her anymore, fists closed tight at the sight in front of her.

laughing, jeongyeon grabs it for her, leaving it on the counter. “there you go. this is costing you a little something later.”

“is that so?” jihyo hums.

just as jihyo is about turn around, sana leaves, hardly making a sound, only letting her tears fall because keeping them in was impossible at that point — she could still hear their laughs from her room, which led her to wonder if that pain was what jihyo felt when she saw her with nayeon.

for the biggest part of jeongyeon’s life, she hasn’t been essentially an affectionate person. not seriously, certainly not without an intention that was linked to taking a girl she is interested in to bed — and it’s not that jeongyeon was faking being nice, but she was a charmer by nature.

she finds out by the middle of the week that doing certain things with jihyo wasn’t that bad. touching a woman without the intention of immediately taking her to bed was good, jeongyeon learns, good almost in a way that was foreign for her.

in the past, jeongyeon simply didn’t want to do relationships and nobody happened to make her want that, not even jihyo.

something shifts at a certain point of her life where she sees all of her friends with a significant other, happy in their respective relationships, hence she stopped doing one night stands, finding relationships not as bad as she used to. it’s a compromise she would take with a person she loved enough.

jihyo was an exception, of course, in honor of their past together, and she needed a friend, which jeongyeon wouldn’t deny her, yet due to their deal, jeongyeon felt like quite the opposite of what she used to feel towards jihyo. in times gone by jihyo was a friend, someone jeongyeon cared about and slept with, but someone jeongyeon didn’t see a future with.

it used to be simple to think about the things regarding her love life as black and white. there was no complexity in what she felt towards the girls she’d been with, no complexity in how she felt about jihyo. jeongyeon didn’t date, jihyo was a friend, and they did what was convenient for them at the time, the both of them agreeing that they were better off as friends, both incapable of seeing themselves doing romance.

but past does not fully resonate in who jeongyeon grew to be, and perhaps the way she saw jihyo was different. it’s hard to tell when having no references of what she was supposed to feel when the time was right and she found someone she would want to build a life with, but jeongyeon starts questioning herself, wondering if she truly saw jihyo as a friend in the present time.

they were faking it so that jihyo would get some sort of revenge — that was the plan. yet jeongyeon couldn’t help but wonder if she touched jihyo the way she did for sana to see, if she kissed her because she knew sana would look, if she called her terms of endearment because sana could hear her.

certainly, jeongyeon couldn’t do romance in the past, she could barely grasp the concept of being so obsessed with someone that she would want to do everything in her hands to make them smile, to make them genuinely happy, but it happens so naturally with jihyo that she fails to realize it was happening.

“thought you would like something stronger today,” jeongyeon joins jihyo in the porch, sitting on the couch next to her. “but we only have beer.”

jihyo accepts the bottle from jeongyeon’s hand, curled upon the couch, with her knees up to her chest in her sitting position. “this one is fine.”

jeongyeon hums. late at night, the sky was full of stars. jihyo seemed to be studying them closely. “tomorrow is the last day. how do you feel?”

“the message was sent. she knows i’ll always be the happiest i’ve been without her.” jihyo replies. “that was all i wanted.”

jeongyeon nods lightly, bringing the bottle to her lips, taking a sip. although jihyo had been deep in her thoughts before she joined her, jeongyeon knew she was welcomed there, therefore the impending silence was comfortable while it lasted.

“thank you, jeong.” jihyo mutters, quiet and sincere.

only then, that jeongyeon realizes it all had just hit her.

jeongyeon knows from the way jihyo’s silent tears stained her face, falling freely without her trying to dry them up, to the way jihyo was quiet, not trying to flirt or initiate a conversation, much less giving out her frequent smiles — those were the brightest ones jeongyeon had ever seen.

“hey,” jeongyeon pats her back when jihyo can no longer cry quietly. jihyo hides her face in her knees, arms curling around her head, and jeongyeon retrieves the still full bottle of beer from her hand, leaving it on the table. “it’s okay.”

jihyo had been there before. she had cried countless times on her own after finding out sana had cheated on her, both because of sana and because of nayeon, and the intensity of the storm reduced a little each time she cried.

jihyo was over sana, she truly was, but her heart hadn’t accepted the fact that all of her love, her expectations, her happiness — her deepest, sincerest emotions, would no longer exist for sana. or nayeon, who had perhaps broken her heart whereas sana had only bruised it, denying jihyo of a friend to support her and take her pain as her own, the way it used to be.

but jeongyeon was there, and jeongyeon holds her when she cries, tightly enough that she could almost make the pain go away, giving jihyo a shoulder to cry on and a lap she can feel comfortable in.

“she was my best friend.” jihyo says once she is able to do so, a couple of tears ready to fall, but she no longer sobbed quietly into the crook of jeongyeon’s neck.

“i know.” it’s the only thing jeongyeon says, because it was enough. because jihyo wasn’t waiting for an answer, but stating what she was thinking, and jeongyeon allowed her to feel it on her own, being there for her how jihyo wanted her to.

jeongyeon doesn’t pull away when jihyo kisses her, she doesn’t think anything of it, forbids herself of doing so. she kisses her back, and it’s different from the other times. not hungry, or hot, or desperate — jihyo was thanking her, in her own, particular way, holding jeongyeon’s cheeks with a hand as her lips warmly touched hers, soft and sweet.

jihyo places a chaste peck against her lips, finishing their kiss, then opening her eyes to look at jeongyeon. “i don’t… i don’t want you to think that i’m doing this- that i’m kissing you because i want the pain to go away and you’re how it goes away. i want to let you know that.”

with a hand on her waist and the other on jihyo’s face, jeongyeon nods, her thumb caressing jihyo’s bottom lip. “okay.”

“we’re not so bad at this, huh?” jihyo asks, bringing the sun back when she smiles, so brightly that jeongyeon wondered if the other stars were envious.

“we are not.” jeongyeon answers, hardly aware of what jihyo meant, but if she meant that doing romance didn’t feel that impossible for them anymore, then jeongyeon would agree. (she doubted that was the case.)

relatively far from them, sana and momo watched them, only arriving when jihyo was no longer crying, but kissing jeongyeon with no intentions of taking that to bed, laughing when jeongyeon stopped kissing her to crack a joke.

momo sighs, nearly regretting going out with sana and leaving dahyun at home, knowing that she was probably sleeping then.

“they’re cute, don’t you think?” momo asks, crossing her arms as she looked at the couple that wasn’t yet a couple — and she knew because jeongyeon wasn’t able to hide it from her. momo was simply able to read jeongyeon beyond her words, aware of things jeongyeon kept hidden even from jihyo.

“no, i don’t, momo.” sana clenches her fist. “why did you let her come?”

momo ignores her question. “i do. it’s good to see that jihyo found someone good for her. and i know jeongyeon, she will never break her heart.”

unable to keep looking at jihyo, sana shifts, looking at momo, her eyes dark. “you used to know me too.”

“i can’t live my life waiting for the people around me to reveal themselves as deceptive, awful people, can i?” momo asks patting sana’s shoulder, a sad smile on her face. “and here i was thinking you regretted.”

momo leaves, sana doesn’t utter a word. she looks at jihyo again, cries because she didn’t mean to speak the way she did with momo, and because jihyo was happy without her. already.

the last day of their trip is the least eventful.

at night, jeongyeon leaves for a party nearby with dahyun and momo after jihyo insisted for her to go if she wanted to have fun with them, the rest of them stay because they are tired. leaving jihyo alone wasn’t something jeongyeon truly wanted to make, but jihyo convinces her that she should have fun if she wanted to, and so jeongyeon leaves.

mina was there and so was tzuyu, yet sana seemed like the invasive type of person. without her or momo there to protect jihyo, jeongyeon worried about what sana could do or say to her — she was worrying a lot, too much, and jeongyeon didn’t feel like she shouldn’t be feeling that way, but avoiding it seemed impossible.

jeongyeon’s worries were justified and sana does reach out to jihyo, finding and opening when tzuyu and mina go to their room and she stops jihyo from doing the same.

“i want to talk to you.” sana says, noticing the way jihyo reacted when she touched her arm. sana quickly releases it, anxious, desperate to find a way to stop hurting jihyo with her actions, but apparently even standing in front of her was enough to feel like she was doing so.

jihyo keeps a firm stance, with her arms crossed. “what do you want to talk about?”

“should we do this outside?” sana asks, looking everywhere but at jihyo. “i just need some fresh air. i won’t take much of your time.”

jihyo doesn’t feel like accepting sana’s request. they had talked about it — everything that had happened. jihyo had been clear that she would never want to go back to sana. she’d been clear that she didn’t want to know about nayeon, clear that she didn’t want sana to explain why she had done what she did. sana respected her decision because it was the least she could do, still wanting to get jihyo back, but keeping the requested distance.

until something threatens her, that is, and sana feels like going over the promises she’d done for momo and attempting, even if one last time, to get jihyo back. when jihyo agrees to talk to her in the porch, sana feels relieved, leading the way with jihyo behind her, and jihyo was as worried about her decision to talk to sana as jeongyeon was worried about her decision to leave.

“so, what is it you want to say?” jihyo asks, impatient, wanting the safety of her room and the safety of jeongyeon.

“i want you back.” sana states, from the beginning of their conversation. “the thing you have with that woman can’t be as serious as our relationship.”

jihyo can hardly believe what she hears. she’s immediately irritated, because sana was so wrong, but the instant urge to snap at her isn’t enough to make jihyo say or do anything. jihyo stares at sana with a blank expression, her breathing becoming heavier the more sana spoke.

“nayeon was in love with me when we met.” sana explains, although jihyo didn’t want to hear. “when i found out, i felt guilty... so guilty. i didn’t notice she had those feelings for me. it’s not like it would change what i feel for you, because you’re the most perfect woman i’ve ever met, but there’s so much i could have avoided if only i knew…”

sana gets closer to jihyo as she speaks, with only one intention behind her actions. even sana didn’t believe in her own words, sounding fake, making it obvious that she was merely keeping jihyo there for a reason that wasn’t apologizing or justifying herself.

jeongyeon only stays at the party until she knows momo and dahyun will be fine without her there, heading back as soon as she has the opportunity. she arrives on time to see sana and jihyo talking, and despite wanting to give jihyo space, desperately wanting to move, she stays at the entrance of the porch, watching and listening.

“no, sana, let’s not lie here. i was a prize to you.” jihyo says, taking a step back when sana gets too close. “i don’t care about nayeon’s feelings because she didn’t care about mine, and i refuse to talk about her with you. those were two years of my life that you wasted. my life,” jihyo says, her face red with sheer anger. “and i wasn’t even happy with you.”

sana raises her eyebrows. “of course you were.”

“at the beginning, yes, it was perfect. but then you became distant, and…” jihyo shakes her head, letting out a sigh. “no, i’m not having this conversation again-”

jihyo’s voice dies down when sana kisses her, holding her hips tightly, enough to make jihyo grunt in pain. jeongyeon doesn’t have to intervene, because jihyo bites sana’s lip, her palm falling heavy on sana’s cheek.

“you can’t replace me with someone you barely know.” sana snaps, ignoring the heat on her cheek.

“i’m not replacing you,” jihyo replies, cleaning her mouth with the back of her hand. “jeongyeon isn’t a sidegrade. she will never be that. she’s so, so much better.”

“jihyo, it’s been a month. a month.” sana says, as if she was pleading for something she knew she wouldn’t have back. she takes a step closer to jihyo again.

“i won’t be the one slapping you if you touch me again.” jihyo warns, and sana seems to realize her surroundings. momo and jeongyeon would arrive soon, and if jihyo wanted, they would make her regret doing anything against jihyo’s will — besides, it wasn’t like sana to act that way, and the anger vanishes when sana comes to understand what she’d just done.

jihyo leaves her alone, but after taking a few steps away, she stops. “by the way, sana, jeongyeon and i were already together for months before i met you. it wasn’t a month that made me fall for her.”

jeongyeon had heard most of it. she saw jihyo stand for herself and then she left, feeling as if she’d seen more than she should have. jihyo leaves after speaking to sana, spends a few minutes cooling down at the beach, then heads back inside when it gets too cold.

for her surprise, jeongyeon was already back, lying down with her eyes closed. thinking she was asleep, jihyo silently changes her clothes, joining her on the bed then, carelessly making her way to jeongyeon’s arms for some cuddling. but jeongyeon wasn’t sleeping, so her hands naturally find jihyo’s waist.

“sana talked to me.” jihyo mumbles, head on jeongyeon’s chest.

“i know.” jeongyeon replies. “i saw.”

jihyo’s heart races at the thought of jeongyeon listening what she said about her, but she decides not to talk about it. “i’m sorry.”

“what for?” jeongyeon asks softly, a hand brushing jihyo’s lower back under her shirt, the other finding the back of jihyo’s knee when jihyo passes her leg over her hip.

jihyo sighs. “bringing you into this. i shouldn’t have.”

jeongyeon hums. “doing this made it better, didn’t it?”

“yes.” jihyo replies sincerely, feeling lighter after letting sana understand she wasn’t as important for her as she might have thought she was.

“then don’t apologize.” jeongyeon mutters, her voice low.

jeongyeon shifts, barely so, making jihyo open her eyes and look at her, the tip of their noses brushing against each other.

“i’m sorry still.” jihyo insists.

it’s only when jeongyeon pulls away, wanting to see her face before kissing her, that she notices the tear stains on jihyo’s face and how red her nose and lips were from crying.

despite it irking her that sana had made her cry once again, jihyo was the most beautiful when she cried. jeongyeon hopes, instinctively so, that in the future jihyo only cries out of happiness, so she could enjoy the way she looked without feeling an annoying pain in her chest.

“so pretty.” jeongyeon whispers, moving a lock of hair behind jihyo’s ear.

jihyo sighs, eyes closed, feeling a tender kiss on her jaw. “jeongyeon…”

“jihyo.” jeongyeon answers.

jihyo says nothing in response, letting jeongyeon place kisses everywhere — from her jaw to her neck, and when her shirt was somewhere on the ground, on her ribs, then on her tummy.

even if jeongyeon knew all of the corners of her body, it was still new to have her kissing her so passionately everywhere. tender, as if that was their first time together and, for some reason, jeongyeon had to be careful.

jihyo keens when jeongyeon pulls her for one last kiss, tongue brushing against hers so gently she felt like crying again, and she’s unusually flushed when jeongyeon has her head between her legs, taking her time kissing her thighs before she got to take off the last piece of clothing preventing jihyo from bareness.

maybe they really weren’t that bad at romance.

a couple of weeks later, they’re back with their monotonous routines.

jihyo stays longer at work every day, because working made her mind occupied, and she needed to have her feelings at rest before she understood what had happened between her and jeongyeon in their last night together at their trip. jeongyeon on the other hand was already in terms with her feelings, she had been in terms with it, and so she waited, because she was confident jihyo felt the same.

it isn’t until nearly a month after everything happened that jihyo reaches out to her. jeongyeon is waiting for a cab after rehearsing all afternoon, guitar on her back, phone in hands, when she receives a call from jihyo. she picks up in a heartbeat, and jihyo smiles, watching jeongyeon from a safe distance, aware that jeongyeon was there because one of her friends had told her.

“hey, jeongyeon.” jihyo says, holding back a soft laugh.

“hey, jihyo.” jeongyeon greets her back, certainly flirting, just as the usual.

jihyo takes a few steps closer to jeongyeon, unaware of how much she’d missed her until she smells her perfume and her heart aches, desperate to hug her tight.

“would you go on a date with me?” jihyo asks, close enough so that jeongyeon could hear her, but jeongyeon doesn’t notice her presence whatsoever.

jeongyeon makes a noise, as if she was thinking about it. “when?”

“now.” jihyo replies, bossy, not willing to give jeongyeon a choice.

“sure,” jeongyeon says, checking the watch on her wrist. still early enough to do many things. “should i pick you up at work?”

“i’m picking you up this time.” jihyo hangs up, smiling as she appears in front of jeongyeon.

“oh, hey.” jeongyeon breathes out, unusually nervous, but still flirty. “you look beautiful.”

jihyo nods, knowing that already — she worked hard to look pretty for her. she wraps her arms around jeongyeon’s neck, using all the courage she’d gathered during those weeks she had no contact with jeongyeon.

“i’m in love with you.” jihyo states rather than confesses, coming clear with her feelings.

jeongyeon shrugs. “i figured.”

jihyo opens her mouth, slightly shocked that that was jeongyeon’s reaction. “aren’t you happy i’m reciprocating your feelings?”

jeongyeon shakes her head. she grabs one of jihyo’s hands, placing it over her racing heart. “i’m worried.”

jihyo’s eyes widen at how fast it was beating, and that was all because of her — that was, by far, the most beautiful proof of her love jeongyeon could’ve given her. jihyo has to get on her tip toes to peck jeongyeon’s lips, a soft smile permanently on her lips.

“i’ll take care of you.” jihyo promises, aware that jeongyeon had no experience with long time relationships.

“no. i’ll take care of you.” jeongyeon affirms, stubborn, passing an arm behind jihyo’s neck so that they could walk side by side. jihyo passes an arm around her waist, the most comfortable way she could hold jeongyeon, really, given their height difference. “i need coffee.”

“the coffee i make is delicious.” jihyo suggests, but soon she reformulates. “you’ll try it later. we can’t go home now…”

“yeah.” jeongyeon laughs, knowing too well what would happen if that was the case. “come on, there’s a really good cafe nearby.”

#non rq #jeongyeon #momo #sana #jihyo #jeonghyo #sfw #ish #i guess

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velchronica · 10 months ago

Text

the little things ♬~*.°₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ blue lock

he’s not the best at the whole ‘talking about your feelings’ thing, or at least not the romantic side of it, but he loves you in subtle ways of his own

content: fluff, established relationship, aged up characters, gn!reader, sfw

wc: 0.8k

he typically walks fast. he takes quick, long strides and seems to cover twice the walking mileage that most people do in the same amount of time. damn him and his long legs.

but while he very much can walk that fast, and it’s probably more comfortable for him, he doesn’t. instead, he strolls idly by your side, fingers intertwined, without a care in the world. if he begins to pace ahead, he notices almost immediately, and slows back down, his footsteps matching your own.

you don’t even realise he does it, because his expression remains completely deadpan. you don’t notice his quick glance down at the pavement, or how naturally he falls into step with you. never straying too far from your side has become second nature to him. after all, he belongs with you, although it’s way too embarrassing to tell you that out loud. he’s not the verbally romantic type to begin with, so don’t expect him to go around broadcasting stuff like that.

when you’re out buying groceries at the store together, he sneaks in more of your favourite snacks to buy, even when you’ve sufficiently stocked up on them in the cart. even if he hates your favourite food—whether it’s the smell, the texture or just the taste itself that he despises so vehemently—the last thing he’ll do is deprive you of it. you shouldn’t feel obligated to not get the stuff you want just because he doesn’t like it.

while you’re browsing the aisles, he makes sure you’re always within his field of view, lest you get lost looking for a specific item. when you reach the refrigerated sections, he comes up behind you as you push the trolley together, his hands over yours on the handle bar, huddled up like penguins. he doesn’t want to see you shivering in the cold, even for a minute, and he doesn’t care if people give them odd looks as you point out a product from between his arms and the trolley.

and when you get to the counter and gasp, fretting that you’ve forgotten something, he sighs and almost rolls his eyes, but he still goes running to grab it before you get to the front of the queue. he runs like he’s on the pitch, sprinting past broke college students, off-work corporate workers, elderly couples, newlyweds, parents with brooding teenagers—everyone in the supermarket. everybody’s now openly gawking at the renowned footballer running through the store like he’s headed for the winning goal of the world cup, trainers squeaking against the tiled floor. he snatches two bottles of scented detergent from the shelf before turning on his heel and immediately heading back to you at record speed.

though he didn’t even break a sweat, and made it back to you with incredible haste, his heart flutters when you grin, taking the bottles from his hands and placing them on the conveyor belt. “i’m lucky to have you, aren’t i?” you laugh as he grumbles, taking you into his arms. “thanks, darling.”

and when he’s running late back from practice, he thinks of you as he’s driving home and pulls into the parking lot of your favourite coffee shop. he knows your order down to the smallest details of the random extras you like to ‘spice up’ your drink, so he orders that alongside a snack he knows you’ll like before heading back to the car.

upon hearing him unlock the door, you immediately get up to greet him and help take his stuff off him to put away. propping yourself up on your tiptoes to give him his daily welcome home kiss, you are pleasantly surprised by him handing over your freshly-made order. you resist the urge to tackle him, since he’s in the process of taking his shoes off at the door, so instead you opt for throwing yourself at him and smothering him with kisses, which is still an affectionate assault, but shhhh, neither of you are complaining.

“you didn’t have to, baby,” you say, beaming, “but thank you.”

he fails miserably at hiding his flushed cheeks. “it’s only ‘cos i feel bad keeping you waiting for me at home.”

“not ‘cos you love me, then?” you harrumph, pouting playfully, only for him to slither his arms around you and wrap you up in a bear hug.

“well, that too,” he relents, clicking his tongue.

“would you be willing to say it yourself, then?” you tease.

“no.”

“please?”

“(y/n).”

“mhm? alright, then,” you say, wryly, playfully prying him off you. “i see how it is.” you turn to walk away when he pulls you back into him, not done with you yet. he buries his face in your shoulder, the action muffling the embarrassing confession that he begrudgingly allows you the privilege of hearing.

“love you.”

you grin. “i love you too, baby.”

— ITOSHI RIN, (wc!)kunigami rensuke, itoshi sae, NAGI SEISHIRO, barou shoei + your fav!

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bluelock x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #kunigami rensuke x reader #barou shoei x reader #kunigami x reader #barou x reader #rin x reader #sae x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock #bllk #bluelock #♬~*.°₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ vivi #୨୧ drabble

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shurisbathwater · 2 years ago

Text

𝖮𝖭𝖤 𝖭𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳 𝖮𝖭𝖫𝖸 - ☆.

𝖲𝖧𝖴𝖱𝖨 𝖷 𝖡𝖫𝖪 𝖥𝖤𝖬 ! 𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖤𝖱.

Part II

↳Part I

:𝖴𝖲𝖤 𝖮𝖥 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖭 𝖲𝖫𝖴𝖱 , 𝖢𝖴𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖦

: ion kno how to check word count but I'm guessing 1000 and a bit

Song

*skip to 2:46 & don't play it till i tell u , its for the scenario 🙄*

✧。❀

𝔈𝔭𝔦𝔰𝔬𝔡𝔢 𝖨𝖨

-𝖸𝖮𝖴 knocked on the door for the second time and waited there for a moment, hoping someone would return the gesture and just answer. The bass of the loud music boomed in your ears as you groaned. "RIRIIIIIII" you shouted as you pounded on the door again.

The music turned off as you heard footsteps coming towards the door. The door opened with a simple click and you saw Riri in her wrobe. "Hey..uh my bad." She chuckled lightly. "Its alright." You rolled your eyes as you said it. Her eyes hovered over your bag which had your clothes and makeup in it. "You better chose something cute. Or else you're wearing something from my closet." She said, arms crossed. "Girl-" she cut you off my dragging you into her apartment.

"Its time to get cuuuteee!!" She squealed as she took you to her bedroom. Everything was scattered everywhere- from shoes to makeup and even some clothes. "Excuse the mess.." she said through gritted teeth.

"One minute.." she said as she ran to the kitchen , she came back with two glasses of red wine. She allowed you to vent to her about Shuri.

"What do I do to get her attention, Riri? I dont want to compete with a lab." You groan.

"Lets give you a night that you'll never forget."

"-that she'll never forget."

"Now cmere, let me help you get ready."

You guys talked and laughed as you drank wine and got ready. You danced to the music, and you felt a bit at ease - but you didn't want to take to much alcohol, you can't forget about the club.

You slipped on your dress and admired yourself in the mirror. It was cute and simple, just how you liked it.

Just how Shuri liked it too.

You finished clipping on your earrings and grabbed your phone to take a couple of mirror selfies as you were sitting at Riri's vanity. You took the photos in a click , but then you had an idea to put them on your story. You clicked post and went over to Riri to take more selfies at her full body mirror. Your face was close to hers and you both posed for the picture as her hands were around your waist. You did the kissy face, stuck your tounge out and did more silly poses.

You knew it'd drive her insane.

Riri wore a red silk skin tight dress that fit in all the right places. Her cornrows were in a bun and she had some dramatic edges too. She looked so ...good.

You smiled as you added it all to your story, serves her right after leaving you hanging all this while.

You and Riri waited for your uber in her living room as you sat on her couch , one leg on top of the other as you looked at who viewed your story. Almost immediately a message popped up.

Shuri 💕

Where you going dressed like that?

Seen

You smirked when you saw the message. The satisfaction of just doing to her what she had done to you felt amazing, you hoped she knew how it felt now.

"Ubers here." Riri says to you as she looks up from her phone. "Mhm." You hummed as you got up from the couch, following her but your eyes were still on your phone. You switched off your phone quickly as you get into the uber.

"Wakanda nightclub,please." Riri says to the driver. "Sure." The man says as he puts the location into the navigator.

ᘛ ᘚ

-THE bass of the music was so loud you barely hear your own thoughts. It was a pleasant setting with strobe lights, drinks and most importantly the people were having fun. Everyone downed shots, recorded videos and danced on the dance floor.

You wanted to be like them, care free and loose.

Just for one night only.

One.

You and Riri walked in hand in hand. You looked at her and she looked back at you, she chuckled at your face. "What you so stressed for? We here to have fun." She said to you. You nod slowly and gulp as you make your way to the bar.

You take a seat and rub your shoulders self consciously, you're usually never in these kinds of environments. You're usually an introvert - or maybe the friend who always stays home during social events.

You and Riri take a seat on the bar stools. "If you're uncomfortable we can leave." Riri comments as she turns to you.

"Mhm..im fine, really." You say to her. You decided to put yourself to the test..why? For fun.

You beckoned the bartender over.

"Two tequila shots please."

Riri smirked at you as she side eyed you. The Bartender gave you the shot and you downed it in a second, the bitterness of the liquor reached your tounge and you felt the effect of it in a second.

Damn.

"Wheww this is too strong." You shook your head as you said it. Riri laughed at you as she took the shot with no problem. She suddenly took her phone out of her purse and recorded the both of you. You adjusted your hair in the video and smiled for the camera. She ends the video and you guys giggle as you watch it back. "Cute." Riri says as she saves it and adds it to her story. You guys also took a couple of pictures to highlight as memories.

Play it neowww

The next song came on and Riri's eyes lit up with excitement. It was her favourite remix, consideration x work. "I love this song, girl let's danceee!" She sqeals as she tries to pull you up. You roll your eyes as you just give in and get up.

"You know I cant dance.." you groan. "Just let loose and do whatever, i promise you'll get it." She shouts over the music. Riri whines her hips to the song and you hype her up to cover up the fact that you can't dance. She rolls her eyes and grabs your hand. She guides you as her hand trails your waist. Your hips slowly move to the song as you get into it.

A/n : mb if this is cringe 😬

"Just like that." She whispers into your ear.

And before you knew it you were dancing, downing shots minute by minute and enjoying this a little too much. You knew your alcohol tolerance is very low but you wanted to push yourself to the limit to see how far you could go.

You felt the effect of the alcohol and started to feel bold, tipsy.

"YESS GIRL!" Riri slurred as you danced to the music , hyping you up. You stopped dancing as you got shy and went back to the bar stools where your phone was. You take it out of your bag and look for the camera app, but of course your drunk self facetimes shuri instead.

"Oh shi-"

You can end the song now if u want to

She answers in one second giving you no chance to decline it in time. She was at home- surprisingly, laying in bed. "Y/n where are you?" She asks you. Riri mumbles something to you and you giggle at the camera. "It doesn't matter where I am." You slurred.

"But i found a couple niggas who are gonna give me some attention tonight." You take the phone off the counter to record some people that were eyeing you earlier.

"Guess who I'm going home with? Him, him and him!" You shouted drunkenly as you pointed the camera at them. Shuri kisses her teeth and ends the call with a bang.

You take a seat at the bar stool and a girl sits next to you. "Two martinis please. On me." She looks at you and smiles, you smile back. The Bartender hands yall your drinks and you take a sip as you look at the woman. She was dark-skinned with a nose piercing that glistened in the light. She wore a tight crimson dress that showed a bit of her cleavage.

You noticed that she was one of the people eyeing you earlier. "If you want my number just say that." You say jokingly, the woman rolls her eyes playfully as she nods. "If you dance with me, you may get my number." You put her up to the challenge. You get up and grab her hand and you shimmy your way to the dance floor.

She comes up behind you and slides her hand around your hips as you sway your hips to the music. "Will i be getting that number now?" She whispers into your ear.

"No." A voice says.

You stop dancing, stunned.

"Because she's going with me." Shuri walks through the crowd in her black shades. "Oh - princess! I didnt know you were-" Shuri grabs your wrist and pulls you through the crowd. "Are you serious?" You try to leave her grip but it only seems to get stronger. She drags you outside. "What about Riri?" You ask her. "I got her a cab home." She says firmly.

"What do you think you were doing out there? Dancing with that...nobody." she interrogates you. You laugh bitterly at her question. "I figured I can get some attention somewhere else. Somewhere thats not from you." You reply.

"I'm going back in now." You mumble as you try and make your way to the enterance- only for Shuri to grab you again. "No way." She takes you to her car and puts you in the back seat as her ai driver waits in the front.

"No!I'm going back." You slurred. "Y/n please." She sighed. "No. I dont want to be with someone that doesn't love me, you don't love me." Your voice cracks as you feel the tears building up in your eyes. "Who said I didnt love you? Y/n you're drunk." She says.

"I'm completely sober- I mean it." you whimpered as the tears streamed down your face. "You love your lab more than me, maybe the worker of yours even more." You sobbed it of frustration. Shuri opened her mouth but no words came out.

"See?! I was right. You don't care. You don't care." You cried as your stomach churned. And all of a sudden you threw up. All over the car, and all over the seat. You groaned as you realised what you have done- and you put your head in your hands.

"Shit." You mumbled. "Its fine-" you cut shuri off. "Dont talk to me right now." You say as you turn around to stare outside the window. You sniffled quietly, and bit by bit you dozed off.

#Spotify #shuri x you #shuri angst #shuri x reader #shuri fluff #shuri black panther #shuri imagine #shuri udaku #princess shuri #shuri fanfiction #shuri x y/n #letitia wright shuri #letitia wright #shuri smut #daddy panther #black panther #marvel mcu #queen shuri

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sweatyrickgrimes · 1 year ago

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i had some ideas for that young regan AU ive been drawing and i cant really write a fic but i wanted to share the ideas/headcannons i had anyways

* they met each other by chance, negan dropped out of college spending his time driving around till his money ran out, it ran out in georgia

* rick had been a farmhand for as long as he could remember, helping out since he was a kid til he could start doing the "real" work, he loves the cows and his horse, the few goats around seem to have an issue with him

* negan started working at the small town diner so he could survive, he was an instant hit with the locals making small talk which the older folks appreciated, his 'edgy' look and him being new was the town gossip for hot minute

* the first time they saw each other rick was having a late dinner after a long day of work, negan usually worked mornings but he had closing shift today

* immediately negan was smitten, a full on cowboy who was his age? rick looked tired but he still smiled asking how fresh the coffee was, negan made him a whole new pot

* the dinner rush had passed so it was just them, the cooks, and a couple quiet patrons lounging more than they were eating

* negan debated whether or not to hoover by ricks table, rick noticed him staring trying to hide he was finishing his coffee with a bit of speed so negan would have to top him off

* it worked tho and negan completely disregarded his job once he was done pouring ricks second cup, negan looked around at the other customers before sliding into the booth putting up a hand to properly introduce himself, negan noticed how rough ricks hands were and how nice his name sounded in ricks voice when he repeated it back to make sure he heard him right

* the conversation was muddled with shy glances and small laughs from rick, he found negan was loud and had character and maybe a bit of foul mouth but it made his dinner much more interesting

* rick stayed till closing and negan sent him away with a to-go coffee and a greasy receipt with his number

* rick and negan dating became the new talk of the town, unless they were working you couldn't see one without the other

* they never officially discussed moving in together but one day all negans things were at rick simple 1 bedroom home with his clunker parked right next to ricks pickup

* when negan met ricks parents rick was a nervous wreck, he loves negan but the guy lacks the kind of manners his parents would be looking for, the kind of old fashion folks that will remind you no elbows on the table

* negan assures rick he'll be on his absolute best behavior, he borrows one or ricks shirts since most of his smell like cigarettes and have some band logo on them, negan almost doesnt smudge his usual eyeliner under his eyes but rick says fuck it he should bc he likes how it looks

* rick had early mornings needing to get to the farm before the sun, every night negan set up their coffee pot so all rick had to do was turn it on, rick never left without giving negan a kiss on the head, sometimes negan woke up groggily asking for a real kiss

* some weekends negan could convince rick they should drive to the city for some fun, mostly he just wanted rick to take him to one of the music stores and peruse the records with rick trailing behind, negan ofc went through the country section too just for rick

* negan insists they dance in the living room, putting his newest record on even if it isn't typical "dance music" rick tries his best to find his rhythm but it doesn't really matter, negans holding him close singing along not a care in the world except for rick

* rick starts stealing negans scarf when the weather cools, its not that thick and doesnt help all that much to keep rick warm but he wears it anyways

* when the holidays hit negan's debating if he wants to stay with rick or travel back to virginia to see his family, rick convinces him he should go and he'll be right where negan left him

* rick realizes how much of a presence negan has in their home while he's gone, and how much better negans cooking is

* they agreed to call each other every night at 9, it always starts with a string of 'i miss you's and filling each in on their days, multiple times negan will try to get rick to talk dirty but rick reminds him he can just hang up, rick wont admit it but he's fallen asleep with the phone in his hand more than once

* when negan's back in georgia rick nearly tackles him to the ground when he sees him, kisses him so hard his cowboy hat falls off , to ricks surprise negan was sent home with a gift for him from his mom, its nothing fancy but rick could cry at the thought, negan mentions that his family would really like to meet him

* they start noticing a stray kitten wondering around their home, both men excitedly peek out the screen door when the tiny thing drinks from the bowl they put out, soon it goes from the outside cat to their 'child', after a vet visit they find out its a she and despite some fleas shes fine, they name her basil

* the next town over gets a movie theatre and they both lose their minds, date nights now consist of seeing whatever is new (theyre partial to horror or any form of crime dramas) and getting ice cream, they'll sit in the bed of ricks truck talking about whatever film they saw

* negan finds out from ricks parents that rick used to draw a lot as a kid, he knows rick hasnt kept up with that hobby so he buys some good pencils and a sketchbook as a surprise, rick doesn't react much to them at first saying he hasnt drawn in years but negan catches him sitting on their porch sketching out basil playing in the yard

* often times when theyre out negan takes ricks hat right off his head and puts it on his own, other times when ricks feeling a bit sappy himself he'll put it on negan

* negan tries to convince rick to let him pierce his ear, rick refuses over and over again until theyre both drunk at a party and he finally says 'fuck it', he takes it out the next day

* rick thinks negans tattoos are cool, negan tells him theyre just scratchers done in basements when he was younger and broke but rick still lovingly traces them when theyre exposed

* they play wrestle a lot, something about them still being young and full of testosterone has them trying to pin each other down and put the other in a choke hold, rick usually wins

* rick never buys his own pack of cigarettes he only ever takes them from negan but he always carries a lighter on him

* they dream about the future together, theres been a lot of ideas thrown around some realistic and others so far-fetched theyre both laughing but either way they're planning on being together

#long post but omg ive been thinking about them so much #theyre really just my silly little guys i love them sm #rick x negan #regan

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colorisbyshe · 7 months ago

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Challengers Review, miniminal/vague spoilers

Bad Bits:

This movie could've been a full... 20 minutes shorter without slow-mo

It needed to be about 30 minutes shorter though

The Trent Reznor bits of music FUCKED, though they were distractingly loud (even intentional... it took me out of the moment) and lacked any meaningful variety... there's leitmotif and then there's "we blew the budget on the credits song, so all we have left is 1.5 songs"

The... child's chorus bits?? Horrendous. Awful. Jarring. There were so many semi-clever record spins in this film via background music to establish time period and then you just have... CHILDS CHORUS HERE... what? Do not care if the lyrics ended meaning something.. tonally awful

Lots of odd choices in this film, a LOT of the cinematic techniques felt very "I learned I have the technical ability to do this... so I'm gonna do it." Weird POV shit that just... took me out

This film felt... like a film? Does that make sense? This felt was almost TOO filmy... the artifice didn't lend itself to any additional depth the way it could in other films, either. It just felt art studenty

Some of the dialogue... bad. Really bad.

The trailers really oversold how sensual this film was? Even the horny bits... weren't horny

Also... the manipulative mind fuck bits... weren't mindfucky enough? Like, yeah, I got it, you called back to the "I fucked her" serve... none of the character work existed enough to make me care or feel... shocked?

This film was kinda just barren. Pretty people doing pretty things.

I don't think I've eevr seen Zendaya outside of Spiderman and uh... wasn't sold on her acting

Good bits:

Ayyy full frontal nudity is back on the menu

The porn-o moaning for the tennis players was both funny and effective

Fujo moment was great

I like the premise, it's novel, it's fresh, it's bisexual

Finally a brightly lit film that doesn't feel flat

You're never bored

The characters have so much potential... headcanons for this film will be fun. This film does occupy the space of mediocrity conducive to great fan output

And wow...................... that seems liek I hated the movie but I didn't. I just... think it had more potential. Individual great moments are stifled by... everything else the film chose to be

ALSO I will say maybe my enjoyment was hampered by people behaving horrendously at the theater. Lesbain couple next to me poured alcohol out, which is fine, but a. they came in late, b. they poured it into glasses with ice in it (which is fine) except it was loud and they were NEVER strategic about when they were loud. Someone had a strobe effect ??? on their cellphone light and it went off three times. People weren't even whispering they were TALKING.

Did laugh when someone just said, about an hour and ahalf into the film "oh this is bad" but... hate the circumstances around that

#ending was dumb as shit #if i were at that game i would riot

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cow-tag · 2 years ago

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Holding the universe in his arms/////Fuck it we ball jonatello fusion fic real

literally so fucking exausted i might not even continue idfk but i needed to get it off my google docs so i can continue or smthn idfk but here yall go enjoy

The crystal glowed with an eerie light, illuminating the room and reflecting off Donnie’s goggles. They carefully chipped a piece off and held it under a microscope, watching the colors swirl and change. It was unlike anything they had ever seen before, and it certainly wasn’t recorded in human history. ‘Makes sense’ they thought, huffing to themself lightly. ‘I found it on a crashed Kraang ship, so it’s probably some sort of alien material.’

The object glowed and almost pulsed. It was mesmerizing, one could fall asleep if they stared at it for too long. But Donnie wasn’t going to sleep. Not just yet.

Now, Donnie should have expected what happened next. It’s rare they get a moment of peace with their family. But, surprisingly, the person that tumbled into their lab with a laugh and a shout was not an orange and green blur. Donnie looked over at the absence of orange for a split second, but immediately turned back when they saw the intruder. Of course he would bother them at this exact moment.

“Heeeyyy, Stickmaster!! What’s that shiny rock ya got there?”

Arnold Casey Bernid Jones Junior. The way Donatello got his full legal name is not important. What is important is the fact that he is their greatest rival. In love, in snarky remarks, in machinery, you name it. Except intelligence. They trump him on that topic. But either way, he has no reason to be here, and Donatello had no reason to put up with him.

“Nothing you need to know about Puckhead, now get out of my lab before I lose a foot up your ass.” Donatello doesn’t move from their spot examining the crystal, not even when they hear a chuckle and a soft “Hot.” come out of Casey. He’s been doing that lately. He’s been.. Flirting. More so than normal. Which in and of itself is a feat, considering the walking pansexual disaster flirts with almost everyone he meets. No, the flirting is not strange. It’s that he’s been flirting with Donatello. An insane thing to hear, Don was shocked the first time they heard any words of romantic affection come from his mouth. But, alas, this is true. It started out small, just little “damn!”s and wolf whistle coming from the human. But it’s been escalating more as of late. Patting their shoulder and giving them a sly smirk, random offhand comments about their attractiveness, a couple sexual innuendos thrown in with their regular banter. Donatello hated it. They hated it so much, they hated the way their face flushed when he got close, hated the way their stomach flipped when he smirked. It was ridiculous, unnecessary, horrible, but somehow the best feeling they’ve ever had.

“Come on, I just wanna look! Just a little peek?” Casey whines, slumping over Donatello’s shoulder. He was close. Too close. They could feel the warmth emanating from his body, feel the unnaturally loud thrum of his heart, could feel his hot breath on their neck. He was too close. Far too close. They shrug him off the best they can, which resulted in him groaning and spinning their chair, and by proxy, them, to face him. He steps back and crosses his arms, a slight pout on his tan, freckled face. It shouldn’t have been endearing. “Listen, Shit-for-brains, I have work to do. I need to study this.” They turn back, hearing another loud groan come from their ally.

“Doonniieeeeeee, you’ve been in here for days! That's the whole fukin’ reason I'm in here, Leo told me to come and get ya before she came in to whoop your sorry ass into bed.” Donnie scoffed, of course that was why he was here. Their sister. He would never come in here on his own terms.

[a small part of Donnie deflated at that last thought. They smack that part of themself upside the head, and focus on ignoring his presence.]

“Well, you can tell her that I am just fine staying where I am. I have been keeping up with my hygiene, and have been eating and drinking properly. There is no reason I should need to leave.” Casey barks out a laugh, pushing Donnie’s tools across the table to lean in front of them. “‘You can tell her that I am just fine staying where I am’” Casey mocks them with a high, nasally voice, adopting a smug, reserved look as he does so. “Bull! When was the last time you went out and ate?” He then yells, reverting back to his regular, loud voice. Donnie shrinks back just a titch at the volume, before scoffing and crossing their arms. “This morning.” They say, pushing the goggles up on their forehead.

Casey raises an eyebrow. “And what was the date of this, ‘this morning’?” he says, eyeing them suspiciously. Donnie pauses.

“April 3rd.”

There's a moment of silence before Casey bursts out laughing again. “April 3rd?!? Dude, it’s the fifth today!” Donnie jumps back at that, rushing to their laptop to check the human’s facts. He was right. HE WAS RIGHT?! Donnie had been cooped up in their lab for two whole days?! They swear it hadn’t been that long! But the universe was against them in this. And apparently was hellbent on making it worse, because Casey then grabbed the crystal. “So, on account of this new realization you have just had,” He said, holding the glowing thing above his head in a ceremonial way, “I am going to confiscate this until further notice.”

Donnie stood up and shouted, lunging for the crystal. He somehow managed to swerve away from them, laughing and jumping around. “Casey! I don’t know if it’s safe to touch! It could be unstable!” They moved to grab it again, but he was too quick. How was he too quick?! “I dunno don, seems pretty safe to me.” He runs the crystal from the middle of his thigh to the side of his collarbone, smirking the whole time. It pushes up the side of his hoodie for just a moment, putting his hip and lower waist on full display. Casey wasn’t likely to be seen without layers of black clothing, and Donnie was surprised to catch a glimpse of freckled skin before the hoodie fell back down. Apparently Donnie was Immensely tired, because not only was Casey faster than them, that last little trick he pulled was effective in slowing them down even further. They curse themself for being so easily flustered.

Casey laughed at Donnie’s state, hopping back and forth around them. Crystal in hand, he was literally running circles around them. Donnie continued to try and fail to grab the crystal from him, resulting in the pair entering a sort of dance. Casey came close, Donnie lunged, Casey dodged and barked out a laugh. The crystal seemed to grow brighter in Casey’s grip everytime the two made some sort of contact, illuminating his face in an ethereal way. This was not helping Donnie’s case at all. At some point Casey started dancing around the mutant, his laugh filling the room with joy. Donnie hated it. He came close, grabbed their hand. The crystal grew impossibly bright. He let go, spinning around and around, dragging Donnie with him. Donnie was dizzy and annoyed. This was so ridiculous! He was messing with a potentially dangerous force, with no regard for his safety! And while this was no different than normal, it was endlessly infuriating. To top it off, Casey ended the spin with a dip, holding donnie in one arm and the crystal in the other. He held the crystal far away from Donnie, but the light still managed to reach his eyes.

There was a moment, a still moment, where everything was calm. Where, for a moment, the light filtered through Casey’s fingers with an unearthly glow. Where, for a moment, Casey’s normally dark eyes seemed to hold an entire galaxy. Where his smile was as big as could be, missing teeth and all. Where his dimples indented his cheeks in a way that perfectly matched the splattering of freckles on his face. Where all the acne scars seemed like stars, light spots scattered across his face. Donnie saw themself in his eyes, along with the galaxy they held. Logically, they know it was just the reflection of light off their goggles. But, for a moment, it seemed as though they were peering into puddles of space. And, for a moment, Casey was just so impossibly beautiful that they could not stand to look at him anymore.

Thankfully, the moment was ended by the pair being enveloped in white light, forcing them both to close their eyes.

[With how observant they were, Donnie seemed to miss Casey’s flush as he dodged and weaved, seeming to miss how loud his heart was. They seemed to miss that Casey did not have a galaxy in his eyes, because he was looking at Donnie like they were his whole universe.]

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elderflowergin · 1 year ago

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SBS Hyena, episode 1 rewatch (part 3)

Today we will look at cute watch ads, the storm before the actual storm and bonus Yoon Hee-jae being expensive.

Hwang Bo-ra is so wonderful in everything she does. Sim Yu-mi has a great sense of style and an equally loud personality, but she feels quite personable. This means she’s quick to make friends and pull them in, which is what puts Jung Geum-ja in Yoon Hee-jae’s circle.

Kindly note her single earring, the contrast of her aqua blazer, her neon pink nails and her lip. Let's put a pin in that comment by her.

(I live for Hee-jae saying he's expensive. I'm sure you are, babe.)

On any other show, their age difference would have been played for hijinks, laughs or a plot point. Ga Gi-hyeok as the bestie might have told his friend he could do much better (untrue). Boo Hyeon-a might have had an entire jealousy arc with her (you know they would have done that.)

Not on this show. This is the first and the last time a named character says anything on the topic. It’s a sometimes grating comic character who makes the comment, which would have been a sneaky way to slide in something mean or judgmental. But there's none of that here. It’s super refreshing.

And then, total obliteration:

Kim Hee-sun is luminous, sexy as hell and completely in control. Yoon Hee-jae may have upped the stakes here by turning up and dropping that outrageous line about leaving with him, but Kim Hee-sun does the metaphorical equivalent of cuffing his chin, smirking and saying "Let me show you how it's done, dear boy." Of course he leaves like he's been lassoed.

Ju Ji-hoon is never going to look like this in a show, ever again. I feel like the costuming team sat down with the PD and went, listen, we have an actor-model in the house. Let us at him. Let us put him in gorgeous suits and saturated colours and lots of great lighting.

This is presumably the Gran Bleu, which is where they met twice more, and...the lighting is not like this on those occasions. Here it's cosy, with lots of warmth on their faces, but there are also plenty of shadows. Almost as if to say that romantic lighting also tends to conceal a lot.

The last time they do meet here, the lights are up, because the show's over, and the things they say and do are so achingly loving that you won't need any romantic pap. Substance over form.

This entire sequence plays out like a generic, if extremely posh, romance. Form, rather than substance: two beautiful people listening to the same record, cooking in the kitchen, looking at art dressed like they should be in fashion magazines - culminating in this gorgeous windswept kiss with the sun setting and the mountains behind them. HIGH ROMANCE, or rather, what we think high romance should look like.

I say “generic”, because this could be any couple. There is nothing here that is specifically them. It’s stock architecture over the heart of things that Hee-jae loves, but there is nothing else of him, and absolutely nothing of her. Even that kiss on the rooftop is made to look exactly like those ubiquitous East Asian watch commercials with the blurry slow-motion - and it is, because it’s very smart PPL, I’m certain - but it enhances, rather than detracts from the generic quality of this sequence.

Anyway, the ad film’s coming to an end because…it’s courtroom time. DUN DUN DUN.

#sbs hyena #sbs hyena recap

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trinity-mia · 10 months ago

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a story as endless as the ocean

the lightning thief

0.3 hurricane season

warnings : abusive home life, cussing

word count : 5.8k

0.3 Hurricane Season Comes a Couple Months too Early

If I were religious, this confessional probably would've hit a little bit harder, but— y'know. It's never too late to repent or whatever the Christians say.

I completely ditched Grover the second the bus made a complete stop. His bladder acted up every time he got anxious or nervous and this time was no different. He bolted for the bathroom the second he got off the bus.

He made me promise to stay right where I was and he'd be back in a second. But whatever happened, I had to stay there.

I felt so guilty starting my bike back up. I'd even hoped it would be loud enough to grab his attention and make him come running back out to stop me. But it was New York, and the roar of my engine just blended in with the other loud noises. He didn't come out. So I left.

He was out of sight and he was just freaking me out too much. And I had just finished a school year, which meant I was less than an hour from seeing my mother. The feeling of needing to see her just became too overbearing.

A few words about her, just before you meet her.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she is actually the greatest, most genuinely perfect person I've ever met. Which, by the way, just proves my theory that the best people have to worst luck. It was kinda sad really. Her parents both died in a plane crash when she was five, so she had to move in with her uncle. He didn't really care for her all that much, so she spent more than enough of her life feeling neglected and unwanted. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent highschool working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

The best break she seemed to have ever gotten was meeting my dad.

I have no memories of him, just this kind of... warm glow, maybe the barest trace of a smile. My mom doesn't like talking about him and she doesn't have any pictures. She said he was rich and important, so for all I know, I could've met him at an A-list party or something without knowing of any relation between us.

The only problem with that was: no one in Hollywood looked like me, which for the record is funny— because I've met almost too many who would pay every dollar they have in order to do so. I've had many plastic surgeons tell me my face was the most requested one for women who came to them.

RDJ, who played my father in the MCU as our Tony/Celeste Stark father-daughter duo, had once offered to be my fill-in father, once. I'd only laughed him off, but secretly wouldn't have minded. With how much advice I always asked of him, it was like he filled the roll in, anyway.

But aside from that, it also isn't an odd thing to say because I look nothing like my mother. Everything to do with my facial structure and features came from my father because my mom's features don't match mine and our hair and eye color are both different. And there is also the even bigger point of: my mother said that he'd needed to go overseas to do whatever he did. So he set sail over the Atlantic and never came back.

She'd always said he was lost at sea. Never dead, just lost at sea.

Either way, she worked odd jobs to provide for us, even though I could've done it myself. She always hated it when I spent my money on her, so she didn't let me buy an apartment, at least not one she'd live in, and she didn't let me buy my Harley. She paid for food and everything else because she is a stubborn woman and "doesn't want anyone's charity— not even her daughter's."

She took night classes to get her high school diploma because she'd gotten pregnant right after what would've been the start of the second semester of her freshman year of college (at least, if everything had gone her way). She couldn't go back to actual high school, so she did it during the night and online. She never complained or got mad, which was kinda crazy, all things considered. I was not an easy child, not by a long shot.

That, combined with paparazzi always following me around, combined with how awfully I got along with my asshole stepfather, her life was a trainwreck. She'd married Gabe when I was around 5 or 6. He'd been nice the first few seconds we knew him, but quite soon after revealed his true world-class asshole, misogynistic colors. As I grew up, I'd started calling him a range of nicknames, most including curse words that my mother always gave me a dirty look for saying.

I didn't know if it was just me being superstitious or paranoid or something, but I always felt gross around him. He stared at me like I was a piece of meat or a stack of 100 dollar bills or something. It always made me feel like I needed to take five showers and scrub a layer of skin off of my body.

Just to add salt to the wound, he smelled awful. Like so bad to the point where I'd have to apply perfume outside of my apartment because it would wear off the second I walked into the same room as him.

The two of us made my mom's life a living hell, with how much we hated each other and how awfully he treated her. When I get home is a really good example of how our 'step-father, step-daughter' "relationship" worked.

Our apartment was pretty small, mostly because it was coming from mom's money and not mine. When I needed a fix of seeing my mom, this is where I'd hunker down, but that didn't mean I lived there full-time. I had my own apartment in my name in the Upper East Side, almost too luxurious for a seventeen-year-old, but there were certain pretenses I had to set as "Hollywood's Shining Star". Plus, I needed a few bones to throw paps whenever they got too close to figuring out my mother's address. The absurdly large amount of rent I paid, in addition to giving me an escape whenever Gabe pissed me off too much, was another way I attempted to save my mother. I'd been used to the business for my whole life, she still didn't understand many of the ways my world worked.

But even as small as it was, Gabe mostly took over the living room so he could play poker with his buddies, so that always made it seem even smaller. I never knew why he enjoyed playing so often, since the times he won were few and far between. The T.V. blared ESPN, talking about an NFL player who'd hurt his hamstring during practice. I'd hoped my mom would be home, but I doubted it. Stale chips and beer cans were strewn all over the place. Oh, if only the cameras could see me now.

He hardly looked up from his cigar, but I knew he knew it was me. "Well, there's my darling step-daughter, home from school. I was wondering when you'd make it home. Got any cash stuffed up that bra of yours?"

"No. Is my mom home yet?" I asked, praying he wouldn't actually check.

He raised a greasy eyebrow. "She's still working. And don't lie to me, I know you love carrying cash around. I'd say you have a few twenty's in there. Maybe even a hundred or two. C'mon sweetheart. Just a little something for your step-daddy. Wouldn't want me to check now would you?"

Fuck. I sighed mentally. He could sniff money out like a goddamn bloodhound, which was funny considering his smell should've masked everything else. He was right though, not that I'd tell him; I did have a few twenties and two hundred dollar bills. And I definitely did not want him checking, considering the only time that happened was when I'd been close to getting sexually assaulted by another dude who came over to play poker with the asshole in front of me.

I gritted my teeth and pulled out some of the cash that's been there. I slowly counted it in front of him, $280 in total, and used a little sleight of hand to give him only $60. It was a little trick my instructor had taught me a few months prior when I was filming Now You See Me.

Gabe managed the Electronics Mega-Mart in Queens, but he stayed home most of the time. I never knew why he hadn't been fired long before. He just kept on collecting paychecks, spending the money on cigars that made me nauseous, and on beer, of course. Always beer. I may have enjoyed a drink or two here or there— a bit of wine at dinners, and a bit of tequila and others at certain parties— but I was never able to stomach beer. Even the smell made me sick. No doubt Games proclivities were to blame. Whenever I was home, he expected me to provide his gambling funds. He called that our "little secret." Meaning, if I told my mom, he would punch my lights out. Again.

"Gabe, the girl just got home. And she makes the money herself. Shouldn't you give her a break?" Eddie, our on-the-older-side-and-mostly-better-than-the-rest-of-Gabe's-asshole-friends building manager said, doing his best to reel Gabe in, to no avail.

Gabe twisted his face into a frown, making his quadruple chins ripple. "Now why would I do that? She's Hollywood's bitch. She's loaded and I'm her step-father. If anything, I deserve the money she gives me considering I agreed to raise her freakshow self." He threw the money I'd given him to the middle of the table. "Give me my chips. Let's start another round."

I left as soon as the money started getting counted and replaced with chips. I was not in the mood to get screamed at for not giving him the full amount.

My suitcase had been thrown haphazardly into the hallway, kind of close to where my bedroom door was. I picked it up on my way and once I made it into my room, I tossed it onto my bed. Gabe wanted to use my room as his own personal 'man-cave' while I wasn't in school, but my mother always made sure my door was locked and he wasn't smart enough to break-in.

Home sweet home, I grumbled in my mind, pulling out the nearest perfume and spraying it generously. Gabe's smell was almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.

But as soon as I thought about that, my legs felt weak. I remembered Grover's look of panic— how he'd made me promise I wouldn't go home without him. A sudden chill rolled through me. I felt like someone— something— was looking for me right now, maybe pounding its way up the stairs, growing long, horrible talons. Step by step, almost there—

Then, with one single word, my fears melted away.

"Allie?" My mom's voice called.

I felt my whole body immediately relax. My mother could make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkled and changed color in the light. Her smile, as warm as a quilt. She'd gotten a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never thought of her as old. When she looked at me, it was like she was seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Gabe.

"Oh, Allie!" She cried, almost tackling me onto my bed with a hug. "You look so grown up! I can't believe my princess graduated today!"

Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when I came home. My dietician hated it, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

We sat together on the edge of the bed. While I attacked the blueberry sour strings, she ran her hand over my double dutch braids and demanded to know everything I hadn't called or texted her about. She asked about all the new movies I'd starred in since the beginning of the year and talked a lot about college. She mentioned a few interviews I'd done, and my cover of Vogue that I'd told her about, but hadn't come out yet. All she wanted to talk about was me. Was her baby okay? Was she doing all right?

She'd been in the middle of saying something about Columbia when Gabe interrupted from the other room. "Hey, Sally! How 'bout you make us some bean dip?"

I saw her shoulders sag, just slightly, and I knew she saw my whole body tense. She knew I hated him and she knew how much I wanted to stab him in the eye with a spoon, but she always wanted us to get along. My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to one of the hot actors who'd played as my dad in some of my movies, not this ass.

For her sake, I'd tried to sound super happy about my last year of high school, but in all honesty, it sucked. I suffered from a bad case of senioritis (even though I wasn't really a senior) and I got sexualized and catcalled almost daily. I didn't tell my mom about that, though. I also didn't tell her about Mrs. Dodds or the old ladies. With the usual horrible stuff she read about me on the internet, she didn't need anything to add to her worry.

"I have a surprise for you!" She said, and she snapped her fingers like she always did once she remembered something she'd forgotten. "We're going to the beach. I want to use the beach house you bought a lot now since, for this moment, you don't have shows or movies to worry about and you won't have to model again for a few more weeks."

I perked up immediately. Our summer beach house was virtually the only thing my mother let me buy with my own money. At least, the only thing that she'd use, too. Her parents used to rent it out until they died, which is where she'd hunkered down when her uncle died. She stayed there for a week to wallow in her misery before she had to rejoin society, lest she blow all her money to stay there. She'd met my dad there, on her last night. She never had the nerve to go back until I was around six, also around the time of her and Gabe's first year of being married. She tried to make it back every year, but it was a large and expensive beach house in the Hamptons, and cost a lot of money to rent out, even for a night.

By the time I was 12, I had a pretty good understanding of life and why the number in my bank account could actually be a great thing, even if it was accompanied by a countdown for how long it would be until I turned 18. I'd asked Danny to look into buying it out, and low and behold, the woman who owned the property was looking to sell, as she was close to having blown all of the money she'd inherited from her dead Oil-Tycoon husband and didn't feel the need to care for it anymore. She was all too happy to sell it to me.

But I'd done all of that behind my mother's back and she almost boycotted going that year entirely, before deciding this would be the only thing she'd relent on. She strong armed me into an agreement that I'd never spend so much money on something that had to do with her again, however, and not wanting to see the disappointed look on her face due to not being able to provide me the same luxuries I could provide myself, I relented. She knew how much it meant to me, being able to go to the house every year with her, and since I'd already bought it, there wasn't much else she could do.

"Uh, when?!" I asked, almost jumping up and down.

"Once I get packed, we will be ready to go. You already have your suitcase of clothes and things here, so all I need to do is get my stuff ready. I'll take your step-father's car and you can take your Harley."

Quick bit of information: I kinda have a car obsession. So I own many cars, however, they are all stationed at our beach house in East Hampton. I wasn't about to temp Asshole Gabe into wanting to drive my luxury cars. The only vehicle of my own that was always near, was my Harley, which I knew made my mom happy. I tended not to use any of the cars I bought around her, for the same disappointed look reasons.

Gabe appeared in the doorway and growled, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

I wanted to punch him, but I met my mom's eyes and I understood she was offering me a deal: be nice to Gabe for a little while. Just until she was ready to leave for East Hampton. Then we would get out of here.

"I was on my way, honey," she told Gabe. "We were just talking about the trip."

Gabe's eyes got small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"Pig," I muttered. "He won't let us go, will he?"

"Of course he will. He doesn't have control over you anyways," my mother said evenly. I tried to ignore her emphasis on 'you.' "Your step-father is just worried about money. That's all. Besides," she added, "Gabriel won't have to settle for bean dip. I'll make him enough seven-layer dip for the whole weekend. Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

"Money," I scoffed under my breath. "I bought the damn house. The only money we spend going is the gas money we use getting there and back."

Gabe softened a bit. "So this money for your trip... it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes, honey," my mother said placatingly, settling her hand on my arm to keep me from pouncing.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back?"

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratched his double chin. "Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip... And maybe if the girl apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

Maybe if I cut off your dick with a butter knife, I thought. And make you sing soprano for a week.

But my mom's eyes warned me not to make him mad.

Why she put up with this guy was beyond me. I cleared my throat quietly, preparing for the intense acting energy I was about to exert. Red leather, yellow leather. Red leather, yellow leather.

"I'm so terribly sorry," I lied, "for interrupting your incredibly important poker game. Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrowed and for a moment I doubted my acting and lying skills, but then he rolled his eyes. I guess his tiny brain couldn't detect the intense sarcasm in my voice.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever," he settled on. He went back to his game.

"Thank you, Allie. Let me go get ready. Get your helmet and keys and I'll be right back."

She left to go pack and make Gabe his seven-layer dip.

We were ready to leave an hour later. Gabe watched me roll mine and my mom's suitcases down to his car and kept watching as I got my bike ready.

He yelled down to me once I finished putting my mom's suitcase in the trunk. "There better not be a single scratch on that car once you bring it back or there'll be hell to pay. I'll have a beer bottle with your name on it waiting. I'm sure it'll love getting broken over your head and I'm sure you remember how that felt last time."

I wasn't going to be driving, but I doubt he cared. It'd be my fault because I was easy to push around and had a lot more money than my mother. He'd find something to blame on me and that beer bottle would connect with my skull at some point. As long as he could hold my mother over my head, he had the upper hand.

Watching him lumber back toward the apartment building, I got so mad I did something I can't explain. As Gabe reached the doorway, I made the hand gesture I'd seen Grover make on a few different occasions while we were in school. I thought it was a sort of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over my heart, then a shoving movement toward Gabe.

The screen door slammed shut so hard it whacked him in the ass and sent him flying up the stair-case as if he'd been shot from a cannon. Maybe it was just the wind or some freak accident with the hinges, but I didn't stay long enough to find out.

Once I saw my mom walking towards me I got on my bike, put my helmet on, and was ready to drive as soon as she'd opened her door.

Our beach house was very large and sat right on the beach. It was perched right at the end of the neighborhood and was easily the largest house in a couple-mile radius. There was a shitton of rooms, most of which weren't used often, so there would be a few cobwebs if it wasn't taken care of. The beach had white sand, the same shade as my hair and the seas were normally pretty cold.

So, of course, I loved the place.

It calmed me down in a way nothing else could. The water hitting my feet made me feel like I could do anything. Like the feeling you get when you walk out of a movie theater and you feel like you could conquer the world, except I don't feel like I'm in a daze. It's quite the opposite, actually. I feel wide awake.

As we got closer, my mom always seemed to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turned the color of the sea. I didn't even have to be in the same car as her to know that.

We got there at sunset, opened all the windows (well, not all the windows. Mostly the ones in the living room and on the main floor), and went through our usual cleaning routine. We walked on the beach, fed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and munched on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work.

Should I explain the blue food?

Gabe had once told my mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time. But ever since, my mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This— along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano— was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, which wasn't shown often, but did remind me that I did get a few things from her. My polite streak was proof of that.

When it got dark, we made a fire. We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom told me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She told me about the books she wanted to write someday when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

I told her I'd get her a laptop and an editor and a publisher right then and there, but she would hear nothing of it. If she wanted to be an author, it wouldn't be because of her famous daughter. She'd probably use a fake last name so it wouldn't seem like she was leeching off of me. I asked her why she wanted to go the hard route and she smiled and shook her head at me; the 'you'll understand when you're older' went without saying.

Eventually, I finally got enough nerve to ask about my father, one of the few things that was always on my mind when we were here. My mom's eyes went misty and I almost took the comment back, but I stood my ground. She took two blue jelly beans from the bag. I figured she'd tell me the things she always did, but I never got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Allie," she said. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But he was also gentle. You look exactly like him, it's almost uncanny. If you were to style your hair the same way he did his and had the same physique, you two would be impossible to tell apart. You have his white hair and those pretty green-blue eyes. And you definitely didn't get your height from me."

That was true. I'd passed my mother in height a while ago. She was very short and petite, and while I did get the petite from her, I was also tall and curvy.

"I... I wish he could see you now, Allie. He'd be so damn proud."

I was shocked. For one, I'd never heard my mother curse. Ever. And secondly, I couldn't quite decide what was so special about a 16-year-old girl who got sexualized on the internet, in public, and pretty much everywhere else. Sure I'd quickly become one of the highest paid actors and models in the world and just that previous September I released the most streamed album of the year, but what would that really mean in the long run? Hollywood is wishy-washy on the best of days, and fame is fickle. The countdown was nearing on a year and two months. It would only get worse the more I did. The more people who knew my name meant a lot more trouble for me. On dark days, I wondered if the trouble was worth it.

"Did he... stick around? After I was born, I mean," I asked, trying very hard to keep my voice from cracking. It was close, but I think I did it.

"He... he came to see you a few times. His work was very serious and he didn't have a lot of time. But he saw you."

I nodded slowly, taking it in. I guessed that was why I'd remembered something about him. I wasn't about to tell my mother that, though. She was already on the verge of crying as it was. I felt like that would set her over the edge.

"I was going to ask you... I got offered by Warner Brothers to do another movie. They wouldn't start filming for a while, but they wanted to go ahead and get the cast done. It's filming in Georgia, though. They said they might be able to pull a few strings and move it to New York, but Georgia would be ideal. Would you be okay with that?"

"I don't know, Allie. There's a lot I need to think about right now. I'd feel better if you didn't leave. You know how worried I get every time you board a plane."

"I know. It's just, this one's... different. I think it would... I really want—"

"You know," my mom said, standing up slowly, "I'm getting a little tired. I think I'm going to turn in for the night. Please don't stay up too late. We can talk in the morning."

I just nodded and my mother left me to my thoughts. The wind picked up a little, and my hair flew from my shoulder to my back. My head fell to my right hand as I tried to rub away the headache that was starting to form.

I only looked up when I felt someone watching me. I could've sworn it was coming from the ocean, but I didn't stay long enough to figure out if anything was there. I was not trying to be the stupid one in the horror movie. No thanks. I brushed my hair with my fingers as I walked into the house.

That night I had an awful dream, shocker shocker.

It started with a whole bunch of memories I'd tried to suppress of all the bad things that had happened to me throughout my life.

During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked me on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed me when I told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.

Before that— a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

And there was one time when I was thirteen and I'd seen a huge lion prowling the edge of a forest we were filming near. I noticed every time the camera would move in its direction, it'd retreat back to the forest and then come back out once the camera moved. Finally, it just leaped away after hours of us filming and no one getting near it.

Then, the dream changed.

It was storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle, were trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swooped down and slashed the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse reared up and kicked at the eagle's wings. As they fought, the ground rumbled, and a monstrous voice chuckled somewhere beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

I ran toward them, knowing I had to stop them from killing each other, but I was running in slow motion. I knew I would be too late. Both animals lunged at each other and before I could see what happened I woke with a start.

Outside, it really was storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery.

With the next thunderclap, my mom woke. She ran into my room, eyes wide, and said, "Hurricane."

I knew that was crazy. Hurricanes were never seen around here this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I heard a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made my hair stand on end.

Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice— someone yelling, pounding on our front door.

My mother grabbed both of our suitcases and ran to the front door, a floor down from us. I followed her down to the foyer.

She threw my suitcase to me and slung open the door.

Grover stood there, out of breath and looking like he needed a seat. However, he looked different. What the fuck...?

"Searching all night," Grover gasped. "What were you thinking?"

My mother looked at me in terror— not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come

"Allie!" she said, shouting to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

I was frozen, looking at Grover. I couldn't understand what I was seeing.

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

I was too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I was too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here, by himself, in the middle of the night.

My mom looked at me sternly and spoke in a tone she'd never used before: "Allie. Tell me now!"

I stammered something about the old ladies at the fruit stand and Mrs. Dodds, and my mom stared at me, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.

She grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to Gabe's car, pushing past Grover on her way. She took my suitcase and threw me into the driver's seat. Grover got in the back, while my mom ran to the passenger's side and sat down with my suitcase in her lap.

She didn't even let me ask a question. She just put the keys in the ignition and said, "drive. Now. I'll tell you where to go. Take a left up here."

Now that we were in the car and I had more things to worry about, I finally processed many things. Grover's muscular disease finally made sense to me. Because he didn't have legs. Well, he did, but they weren't human legs. They were more like farm animal legs, all thrown together with fucking hooves.

* * *

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#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

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hospitalterrorizer · 1 year ago

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diary50

10/31 - 11/1/2023

tuesday - wednesday

tomorrow is errands day and tonight i saw a movie. also, happy halloween or i hope there was a good halloween somewhere around these dates.

the movie wasss: texas chainsaw massacre! i've seen it before, i loved it ofc, i loved seeing it in the theater cuz of how loud it was, which really made it more intense, i almost cried a couple times not from fear but empathy with what sally was experiencing and how the movie transferred that onto you, the closeups, the screaming, the camera's moving from closeups to totally unrelated views, beautiful shots amidst the terror. people laughed a lot when she was being beaten, called a bitch, crying, when the men were on screen attacking her, clumsy, never any consequence for that clumsiness until the end, but until then they simply can do as they please, weightless, they seemed to approach the movie like it was goofy or a b movie and not an extremely knowing film about how basically horrifying america is / tradition is / family entrenched in those exact ideals is, and the intentionality behind all the imagery, the cattle toward the beginning, all the folk art-y bone sculptures, stuff like that, i dunno, the movie really presents these extremely regular things that surround us (these kinds of values, that approach to life, animal or human being something to be used until it's all over, or even things like the father wanting to save his electric bill and get the door), and makes us contend with them as the horrific things they are, and present us with the misery they incur as extremely as possible, to drive at a point. it's also a shockingly beautiful film.

as usual when we go to this theater, we unexpectedly hung out with a friend for a while after, and saw our friend who is a waitress at the place we ate at, hung with her a bit. it was a lovely time, pretty much. this friend was at a separate conference while my gf was at hers so it was fun to hear his stories, tell him about the psychosis of arizona. you know. but maybe you don't. maybe i am too exhausted to write the other part of that poem i am doing with my friend tonight. i dunno. i should do that now.

also i didn't record today, i should have, but i got caught up in a vc session. tragic kind of, i wanted to keep my momentum, but i will try tomorrow. some short song(s?) maybe.

anyways, listening to this song a lot:

youtube

i didn't expect this record of theirs to be so good, and especially that they'd have a song this good on the album. strange how they really just go for that blood brothers-y thing on this one kind of, not just in the vocals, and not totally instrumentally, not as spastic or fast, but it is pretty whitebelt in the writing of the riffs i dunno. hard to put into words why, but it just recalls that whole thing. i think the record is a little genius but maybe it's because i like that song so much in particular.

anyways, i don't know what else we did today. i didn't eat a lot, i finished all my working out.

anyways, i should sleep now, so

byebye!!!!

#Youtube

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frogtanii · 4 years ago

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“alright everyone, thank you for sticking around. please take care of yourselves and i’ll see you next time.” with a fake smile and a couple of clicks, kenma’s stream was turned off and computer powered down.

he let out a deep sigh before looking at the clock. it read 7:23am. he’d streamed all night. again. kuroo was going to have his head.

standing up with a groan, kenma ruffled his hair and adjusted his hoodie before making his way to the kitchen for an early morning drink before going to sleep for the rest of the day.

he shuffled along the wooden floors, his fuzzy kitty socks making little to no noise as he made his way to the five-star kitchen iwaizumi had managed to get for them.

kenma was a little confused as to who the kitchen was for — sure osamu used it for his videos but most nights, the house members ordered out or meiko cooked them a big dinner.

granted, he’d never actually seen meiko cook anything before but she took credit for it every time and she had no reason to lie. she was just that kind.

just the thought of meiko brought a small smile to kenma’s face. she was the one person who he felt understood him and cared for him like no other. she cleaned the house, she cooked for everyone, and she wasn’t stingy with her love.

although kenma was never one who liked sharing, he was willing to try for her. the others were equally enamored with meiko, willing to do almost anything for her and he didn’t blame them. the only thing was, he hadn’t hung out with her in so long and judging by the murmurs throughout the house, no one else had either.

oh well. he just needed to get her alone and ask if she wanted to watch him stream. he would ask if she wanted to actually play with him but she hated video games and would throw a fit if he asked so instead he would play and she would sit on his bed on her phone.

as much as kenma would’ve liked for his s/o to have something in common with him, he knew beggars couldn’t exactly be choosers — meiko reminded him of that fact every time he bothered requesting that they did something he wanted to do for date night.

the more his mind raced, the further his smile dropped as his eyebrows furrowed in disappointment. he knew she was busy but would it kill her to spend just a little time with him? was he really that disgusting? that repulsive?

kenma was jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of atsumu’s loud voice echoing throughout the kitchen. his golden eyes narrowed in suspicion — atsumu was never up early unless he was planning a prank which immediately put kenma on defense.

that was until he heard a light snort coming from room that he knew couldn’t have come from anyone but you.

slowly, kenma scooted forward to peek around the corner where his eyes met a scene that made his stomach churn and his heart twist in his chest.

you were dressed in some kind of apron and fluffy skirt combination while making a pot of really expensive coffee as atsumu hovered around you, teasing you clad in a massive hoodie (looked like samucooks merch) and gray sweats.

“tsum, leave me alone!” you laughed, shoving him out the way with your hip, skating around the kitchen as though you’d been in there thousands of times before.

that left kenma furrowing his brows in confusion. meiko always said you never cooked so why did you know exactly where the creme and sugar was? not even meiko remembered that but she played it off as her being a little forgetful. (would she lie?)

“go to bed atsumu,” your playful voice brought kenma back into the present, his golden eyes peeping you giving the blonde miya a tight hug and a slap on the butt, sending him back up the stairs and to his room.

kenma couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy that crept up his spine. he wanted this with meiko — a clearly loving but playful relationship where both parties were open with their affection for one another. he had no idea if you and atsumu were actually dating but your relationship was something he aspired to have.

“kenma?” god, kenma needed to stop getting lost in his thoughts, your hesitant voice pulling him out the shadows. you gave him a soft smile before waving him over to which he tentatively obliged.

he kept his distance from you, meiko’s warnings ringing throughout his brain as he took a seat at the counter across from you.

kenma noticed how your smile dropped a little at the corners at his blatant avoidance but you quickly plastered on a fake one, moving to pull out a cup and pour him his favorite sleepytime concoction of akaashi’s special chamomile tea and 4.5 drops of melatonin.

when he sent you a look of distrust, you just shrugged, saying, “i know what everyone drinks,” before turning back to pour your own thermos full of coffee.

he watched you as you worked, not missing the tenseness of your shoulders at his presence but you never once alluded that you wanted him gone.

kenma supposed that’s what gave him the confidence to ask, “do you make coffee every morning?” his voice was gravelly with the lack of sleep but you paid it no mind. “pretty much. i usually need this cup to get through the day at work and then recording at home.” you waved your colorful cup in the air for emphasis.

“work?” you nodded. “yeah, i work at the gaming cafe by the university? i have to wear cat ears but it pays pretty decently.” heat flooded through kenma’s cheeks as he briefly imagined you decked out in a full cat-maid outfit before shaking his head, guilt oozing from his pores. (he belonged to meiko...)

the room fell silent after that, the only sounds being kenma’s small sips of his tea and your brewing of another pot of coffee to leave for the house.

“ah shit, i gotta go. i guess i’ll... see you later?” you asked awkwardly while pulling a cardigan over your apron and skirt uniform. kenma just nodded, watching you race out the door to catch the bus to work.

finishing off his mug, he placed it in the sink, his blush back in full force as he realized what you had absentmindedly done — kenma had never told you he’d been up all night and was in need of sleeping assistance but yet you prepared him exactly what he’d needed.

kenma knew for sure that meiko had no idea about his insomnia and his favorite remedy and he didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse. he wouldn’t want to worry her but a part of him wished she cared enough to know. (but that was selfish... don’t be selfish kenma...)

staring at the base of the sink, he smiled to himself at the thought of your kind words and careful hands before physically shaking the thoughts off.

no. he was with meiko and he was happy (was he?). but that didn’t mean he couldn’t just say...

“thank you.”

℗ poker face

a crack in the facade

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an - MORE LORE MORE LORE :0 yall i’m proud of this ch, u see kenma changinggggg (ur welcome kenma simps hehe) FEED ME <3

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

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the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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subwaysurf45 · 3 years ago

Text

Code Star

Summary: a code word you and Bucky share is used; but it’s not in a good way.

Warning: panic attack, ripping out hair, addiction(little bit)

Words: 2030

Masterlist!

"Agent. Agent. Copy agent?" Friday spoke through the speakers in your room, it was louder than normal and also in the middle of the night which was the reason you woke up with a gasp.

"C-copy," you spat out, you typically sleep with your mouth open, so it gets dry when you first wake.

"Mr. Barns is calling you, he says it's 'code star'." Your stomach dropped, from all the adrenaline from waking up with a scare and the code, you sprinted down the hall way.

It was late and you were in the kitchen, you were trying to separate from your sleeping pills because during your last mission you couldn't sleep because you forgot them, you were addicted to them. So you needed to take a step back, learn to fall asleep on your own.

After asking around there was a tea Wanda recommended, it was lavender tea and she said it's the best with honey. You were currently steeping your bag and had honey beside you.

You took the soggy bag out and turned to the compost bin, after dropping it in and turned around you almost slipped because Bucky was right there.

Standing frozen. Dead face. Staring at you.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You yelled, not caring if it woke someone up, "what's wrong with you?" You realized you clutched at your heart through your sweater.

He was on the other side of the island, but he seemed to be leaning over a bit, he looked down at your steaming mug and then back at you.

"I- I was going to say hi and then I liked the smell of your tea and then when you turned I looked up at you, I-I didn't mean to freak you out, that must have been really scary, sorry." He looked down into the cup again. "What is it?" He finally asked.

You let your guard down a bit, "lavender," you never looked away from him, "and honey." That was the most he'd ever said to you since he showed up two months ago, he stayed in his room the first month.

"Nice," he nodded, his metal arm coming up and rubbing the back of his neck.

"There's extra water, I can make you one." You knew he was going to ask for your cup, but you really need to hit the sack.

His face lit up in the dark, "perfect!" He half smiled.

You poured the other cup and steeped the another bag, then added honey as well. You both stayed where you were on either side of the island.

"Why are you up?" He asked while blowing on the tea, his voice was below normal level.

"Just can't sleep," you sigh and look over to the common room, no one was there but you really didn't want to meet his eyes.

"I get that," he spoke awkwardly and looked over as well, thinking you were studying something.

"I'm-...I'm trying to get if sleeping pills my shit therapist prescribed for me," you looked back at him, his eye brows raised and his head tilted forty-five degrees.

"Sleeping pills?"

"Insomnia."

"Oh..." he spoke to himself and looked down again, his thumb rubbing the smooth ceramic handle of the blue mug that wasn't his. "I get nightmares." He stated blankly, but he didn't look up at his statement.

"Is it..." you tried to find the right words to not trigger him, "before the war, like America...or later on…in life...?" You danced around the question, Steve had told you mentioning certain things can get Bucky really freaked out.

"My mind," he laughed sarcastically, "it likes to mix the two," he pulled one side of his mouth tight.

"Double-whammy," you whispered, then froze at the sound of a giggle, Bucky chuckled. "What?"

"No-I-I just...I get that reference," he seemed proud, his face seemed to fall quickly though, circling back, "my arm is weird, it's like my human arm but the star," he points to the red, "is like sewn in, I don't know what it means but..." he trialed off.

"Well, if you need help, just call a code star, I'll come to your room and bring you some tea, how about that?" You smile.

"What? Like a friend?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Okay," he smiled and nodded, "alright," his fingers drummed on the counter, "I'm gonna take this back to my room, but I'll remember that." He nodded and left, but caught himself at the corner to the rooms, "hey, agent," he spoke normal, you looked, "if you're gonna be my friend, don't ask 'what's wrong with me?', because trust me...I’ll talk you to your grave." He smirked.

“Noted, Sargent.” You’ve never seen him joke with you before, it felt comforting.

'Code star' had never been used for its newer purpose before, as the friendship and relationship grew 'code star' became 'code lavender', it happened after Bucky called 'code star' once while he was having a panic attack, you took so long to make the tea he was passed out by the time you showed up.

'Code lavender': make a tea, meet in the kitchen.

'Code star': panic attack, drop everything a come.

You sprinted down the hallway to the very last room, you could hear laboured breathing as you got closer. Typically you'd knock softly and come in quietly, not this time.

You whipped open the door to see Bucky staring slightly down on the edge of his bed, he was rocking back and forth as his fingers ripped and pulled on his long hair. His pupils blew wide and his lips curled causing his teeth to flash, he didn't even look up at you.

A loud bang from your knees hitting the hardwood didn't phase him either, you tired to duck down to meet his line of eye sight but you couldn't get down enough.

"Bucky, look at me!" You pulled his hands out of his hair, as you made him drop them to his side you found a pile of hair outside his thighs, "oh god," you whispered, your hand unlacing with his to pick up the locks, the free hand of his went straight back to tugging. "Don't do that, don't do that." You hushed and took it out again, a tuff came with it. "Bucky, look at me," you said calmer now, you needed to be the example. "Bucky, nod if you can hear me."

He didn't nod, his eyes stayed locked on your chest. They didn't move there, he was already looking there, it was like he was looking through you.

You kept his hands clumped in your right hand and your left hand began to trace around his face, starting at his cheeks that were dry, little circles led to cross the bridge the nose a couple times. You also started humming, a song you heard Bucky and Steve sing once while drunk and having fun.

His eye brows seemed to raise for a second at the tune, but he quickly fell back into his short shallow breathes. You kept going, your finger gently tracing his cleft chin, it was always something you pinched when joking around with him.

"Wake up, Bucky," you whispered after finishing the song, you started the tune again. His breathing seemed to slow a little and his almost black eyes moved around a bit, "there you go," you cupped his cheek, now just shifting your thumb back and forth. You didn't know if he'd start to pull his hair out again so you kept both the metal and flesh hand covered with your left.

His breathing went to normal, his rib cage expanding wide as he took voluntary breathes. His eyes were shut tight but you felt him lean into your hand that was still holding his cheek.

"Are you with me?" You asked softly, he leaned into your hand again, his hand slowly made it up to his face and he placed his hand over yours, gently guiding it down to his lips; his kisses to your palm were long and filled with their own language.

"I'm here," his voice cut out and became a breath, but you heard him. His eyes looked up before his head moved, he locked eyes with you and something changed.

It was like he was seeing you for the first time, eyes a little wide and confused; but knowing at the same time. They became misty the more he looked, he was never one to cry so he dropped his head to cover the tears.

"It's okay," you hushed, he dropped your hand and leaned forward, basically throwing his entire body weight onto you. You fell back to the floor and he cried in your chest, you saw some of his hair fall with him. "Let it out," your arms wrapped around him and began to rub all along his back, huge, gentle, soothing rubs.

"I-I killed you all," his voice sounded like a dog panting from his short breathes that came when he talked, "I- couldn't s-stop," his 's' slithered like snakes as he tries get sufficient air and talk.

"We're all here, just a dream." It was the same mantra, "we're all here, you're safe, it was a nightmare, you're out of it now. There you go, big breathes, you're doing great, you're a pro at this, keep breathing." You let the broken record play, he seemed to get smaller at every praise.

He sat up and leaned against the bed, Bucky pulled his sleeve around his fist to hold it tight. When he wiped his face it was aggressive, like he was mad at himself. He just stared at you like he always did, you were alway involved in his dreams so he needed to look at you to stay grounded.

"Sorry," his 's' still slurred, "I-...I'm sorry," he wanted to say something else, you could hear it in his tone. His head dropped, Bucky almost fell over at the sight of his hair, "did I do that?" He asked, his nose turned up.

All you did was nod, any verbal answer would've sounded almost grossed out or accusatory. He sighed and looked between the hair and you, he wanted to say something, he'd already stopped himself once.

"Tell me," you whispered.

"I want to cut my hair," Bucky responded softly, "I-I also want to sleep on the floor from now own." He seemed ashamed of the second ask.

"You like the cold?" You tried to figure him out.

"That and it's...comforting...I think," Bucky scratched his head, his metal hand slowing at the thin spot from tugging, "it just grounds me, I'm not used to fluffy things- nicer things."

"How about a mattress pad, you're back will scream at you in the morning." You tried to lighten the mood, he smiled a bit and then nodded. "How about you come sleep in my room tonight, just so I can keep an eye on you and if you want to sleep on my firm mattress you can hop on, how's that?" You stood and held your hand out, Bucky nodded and clapped his metal hand to yours.

You led him down the hallway and to your room, it was really quiet and almost off putting. You slept barefoot so the sound of soft footsteps from your feet was the only thing you heard, Bucky wore socks.

He went straight to your bed and felt the mattress, both hands pressing down on it to see the give it has. You felt a little happy when he was nodding in a positive way; his bottom lip also pouted out.

Bucky slipped in and you joined as well, he stayed still for a while, on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"Y'know, you can cuddle," you whispered, without another second to blink Bucky's face rested on your chest, his arm circled your body completely in a tight hug. Your hands found their way to his back and to his hair, softly lulling him to sleep, "I'll cut your hair in the morning."

"Love you," he murmured.

#bucky barns fluff #bucky oneshot #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barns

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emile-hides · 3 years ago

Text

H*lding H*nds Imagines

I am once again making content for me and me alone because I have an unhealthy obsession for BNHA blond boys

BNHA Blond Boys X GN!Reader h*nd h*lding moments

Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Twice, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio

All Might

Knuckle brush

You handed him things before

Stacks of papers to grade, coffee after a long day, a napkin when he goes into a coughing fit

But something about this time turns his face a deep red

He withdrew quickly, in a jerking manner that dragged more attention than you’re sure he meant it to

He cleared this throat and thanked you quietly before shuffling off

It took a few moments to really set on you

You’d made contact

Such little contact you’d barely even felt it

He was cold, his skin rough and calloused, wrinkled and dry

How you managed to notice so much with such brief contact is astounding

And also incomparable to how much he noticed

He’s thinking about it all day, glancing at where the contact was made, shuffling, flushing to himself, holding his knuckles to his lips

Do it on purpose next time you hand him a stack of papers and he’ll drop them

Present Mic

In a crowd

It’s LOUD

You and Hizashi are trying to get home after a live show

The crowd is huge and still hyped from the concert

The quarters are tight, the space is limited, and without his towering hair spike it’s hard to keep track of your loud blond

Eventually a strong clasp from a hand horribly decorated in rings, fingerless gloves, and black nail polish claps on your wrist as your continued to be pulled though a crowd

When the world finally starts to calm and you have room to breath his hand slides to connect to your palm

Fingers intertwine with yours as a series of “Y’all good?”s start, followed quickly by an excited narration of the chaos that just ensued

He’d taken your hand so causally you barely even noticed

The two of you walked in a much calmer crowd, hand in hand, as Hizashi randomly picked bystanders out of his vocal range and made up their life stories to tell you

Fatgum

Big hands

You laid idly on the couch in Fatgum’s office, the interns long sense gone home

A pile of paperwork blocked your view of your hard working hero as he sat at his desk

You slumped and slid off the couch, boredom rising as you phone lie dead on the table nearby

A loud groan drives a “Just a bit longer, gumdrop” from behind the piles of unfinished work, a bit longer could be years for all you cared

Sliding across the hardwood floor on your back, you found yourself beside Taishiro’s desk, looking up at him from an angle you were rather use to

He was focused, with a smile still on his face as he worked, writing with one hand, the other causually turning Takoyaki in the grill built into his desk

You sat up, watching quietly. He was typically pretty observant, but he may not yet have noticed your approach

When his hand stopped turning and released, you took your chance

Both your hands snatched his wrist, sitting up a bit to rest yourself on his lap, you examined his large palm

He chuckled, “What’cha doin’, cupcake?”

His hand was massive in your own, enough to make anyone feel like a child. It could engulf you, hold half your torso and still have a pinkie to spare

You pressed on his palm, he hummed and returned to work, leaving you to admire as you pleased

His knuckles were scarred, several gashes and scrapes from punching at materials harder than even his fat could handle

Old burns from cooking, white spots on his finger tips from a time before he learned patients

You leaned back on him, holding his hand in your own, and watched him work

He seemed much more blissed from your company

Twice

Not enough hands

Jin’s a very physical person

He hangs off you every chance he can get, coddling and loving on you

He finds it annoying

So it’s not surprise as you two settled down for a movie night he was instantly on your lap like a cat

He lays over you like a blanket, limbs tangled every which way, head on your chest, looking at you more than the movie

One of your hands lay idly by your head, that one he has his own over, fingers tangled messily, almost uncomfortably

His other arm trapped under you, a hug from below, resting also uncomfortably against your spine

Leaving your free hand to tangle in his hair, a rare sight to have his mask off, though it probably wouldn’t last the whole movie, it should be cherished until then

When you notice his staring at you more than the screen, you choose to join him

You slide your hand from his hair to his cheek, he leans into it with the most lovestruck puppydog look a man his age could muster

He then starts to fidget around, moving like he’s stuck

It doesn’t take long from there for him to start getting frustrated with himself, splitting an argument for two between just him

You gently lift his head to regain eye contact and ask what’s wrong

He nearly starts crying

“I want to hold your cheek too but I don’t have enough hands!!”

He’s not willing to remove your hand from his hold or pull his other arm out from under you to compromise his own needs

He does eventually start crying over his lack of extra limbs to love you with

Aoyama

Standing ovation

Roaring applause rippled thought the auditorium

It wasn’t a big show, or a big stage, but it was your first written play, and seeing it go over so well was enough to bring a tear to your eyes

You joined the audience in standing to applause as the actors took the stage for the final bow

Only the lead, your star, wasn’t there with them

You blinked once, twice, three times before panic set in

There’s no way Yuga Aoyama would miss the chance to stand center stage in a spotlight. If he wasn’t on stage something must have happened

You tried your best not to look around too fervently, not wanting to startle anyone else

When a hand clasped yours

“And let’s not forget the playwright~✨”

Before you could question how he said that with his mouth, you were dragged onto the stage by your previously mentioned star, with his own mic in hand you don’t remember giving him

He held your arm up above his head as he runway walked his way along the stage, you closely in toe

You were going to go on stage eventually but you’d planned to be a lot more quiet about it, when more people had left early not wanting to sit though the applause

But instead, here you were, center stage, hand held high like you’d just won a boxing match by your own and only Aoyama

How he could stand being this bright all the time way beyond you

For now though, it was rather nice

Ojiro

Lost and found

You stepped out of your class stretching, ready for a well deserved lunch break when you heard your classmates muttering

“Isn’t he from the hero course?”

“What’s he doing?”

Being nosy wasn’t usually your strong suit, but the mutterings has peaked your interest

You followed the eyes of those speaking to find a blond boy sitting in the floor of the hall, knees pulled to his chest to keep his legs from disrupting the flow of traffic, with his tail resting over his feet to protect them from being stepped on

He smiled and gave a light wave to your class as the dispersed

You alone approached him, curiosity peaking. Why was he sitting out here in the hall?

When question he very sheepishly answered, “I, uh.. I got lost on my way to class”

There was several things wrong with that

Number one being, he’d been at this school half a year now. He has one classroom, a big classroom, in the hero course. It’s not easy to miss??

Number two, it was noon. Lunchtime. He has one classroom. How long had he been lost???

These questions had answers and he was, while slightly embarrassed, happy to share he had, in fact, been lost all morning. Not just in finding his class, but also in finding the exit to the building, any teachers he knew, or his phone to call for help

You began to feel sorry for the guy, as this seemed to be a common occurrence in his daily life

With a sigh, you offered your hand to help him up

It was lunch, for all courses, so surely he’d see his hero course classmates in the cafeteria. No one turns up Lunchrush’s food after all

He smiled and took your hand, lifting himself from the floor with a thankyou

“I’m Ojiro, by the way. You are...?”

He was rather polite to talk to the entire walk, his grip on your hand was soft, gentle, and his smile never seemed to waver

Kaminari

Swing yer partner round and round

“Oh this is my JAM!”

Mina excitedly turned up your shitty little radio before kicking herself up off the floor, grabbing Sero all in one quick motion

The two danced horribly off beat, you quickly guess Mina had never heard this song before in her life, just wanted to get moving

“Come on you two, it’s dance break time!”

You found yourself enraptured with her energy, already forgetting the homework you all were doing

Kaminari took your hand much like how Mina took Sero’s and began to dance just as off beat and spuratic as queen pinkie had

You laughed, stumbling with every step, same as the others, the giggling energy filling a previously silent room

Denki’s fingers dug into your knuckles as he smirked, suddenly spinning on his heel and dragging you with him

The two of you became a tornado in your tiny dorm room, barely keeping from knocking into your tea table as you spun like a couple of children

You could hear Mina cheer and laugh, a brief glanced told you Sero was recording this silly moment

You looked across the way at your dance partner

Spinning, laughing his head off like this was the most fun he’d ever had, eyes closed, caring not for his surroundings

You decided to let go

The momentum sent you both toppling, you safely into Mina, who was more then ready to catch you

Denki got the much less desirable aforementioned tea table, which sent him toppling backwards over the also aforementioned homework

If you all could have laughed any louder, you would

Bakugo

Sweaty hands

You always knew when Bakugo was going to hold your hand

He may think he’s smooth, wiping his hand on the pocket of his pants before reaching behind himself to grab at you

But you’d always notice

It was a good indicator you were walking too slow for his liking, or the area up ahead was crowed, or that he simply felt you were too far away

You couldn’t initiate holding hands, when he didn’t actively want to be in contact he’d keep his hands shoved deep in his pockets

So you just had to wait for him to wipe himself off and reach for you

You were free to wrap yourself around his arm whenever, though

He’ll look pissed, but won’t say a word

And if you move away, he’ll wipe his hand on his pants, and offer it to you, a silent plea for you to come back

Honenuki

Magic hands

You stretched out over the couch of the 1-B common room with a whine, the rest of your class in a similar state

Training was hell today, sparing with class 1-A was never a joke, and with Monoma egging the whole game up to be more than it should have been, it all just escalated to a point you all wish it hadn’t

“Alright, next.”

Honenuki, a godsend, your blessed angel, helped Tsuburaba off the second common room couch, his typically wide eyes closed and relaxed as he wobbled his way across the room

You happily took his place, stretching out on your stomach before your classmate with the magic powers of massage

His hands pressed into your back and you instantly relaxed, letting out a low hum as you snuggled the pillow under your chin

Honenuki returned your hum, his hands pressing into all your tenses spots, almost instantly releasing them from their knots

You’d probably have fallen asleep, if it wasn’t over so fast

He had the entire class to get though after all, though he hated to rush an art form

You took his hand as he helped you stand, the actual minute of his touch enough to wobble your legs

Kissing his knuckle and thanking him for sharing his magic, you found yourself plopped peacefully on the couch beside Tsuburaba

Honenuki chuckled at you as he called next, happy to be of service

Monoma

He’s showing off

You’d known for a while now Monoma didn’t know how to shut the fuck up

He’d brag about anything, over anyone, to everyone

He’d always loudly bragged about how much better his class was, how much stronger his friendships were, how absolutely amazing his partner was

You being said partner didn’t make said bragging less annoying

The two of you had been together less than an hour and he was already boasting about your perfection to all who would hear

Some genuine, loving, almost gaggingly sweet comments

Others just to rub it in the face of class 1-A as much as possible

A week into this relationship and people were starting to think you must be come kind of god with how Monoma spoke about you

You’d been on two dates with the guy

Now here you were, holding his hand on the walk to class, and regretting every step

As every single person who passed must take note of the fact you were holding his hand

And also must be aware how blessed he is to be holding your hand in return

And really you started to understand the concerned look Kendo gave you when you told her you’d agreed to date Neito Monoma

Still his words were genuine, no matter how they came across, and he truly had a million and one things to say about you

So you could hold though the embarrassment his overexcited bragging may cause

He just wants to show you off

Mirio

Quietly

You sat by his bed side, holding gently to his limp hand

Moments ago he was inconsolable, crying and screaming his lungs out

His quirk gone

His teacher gone

Everything he worked so hard for seemed to vanish in an instant

His grip, still so strong, had left your hand bruised, circulation cut off

It wasn’t a concern you really had

Sleeping, his pain was still so obvious

Bags under his eyes, dried streaks of tears still down his keeps

And your hand still tightly gripped in his

What would happen next, where he would go, who you all would become

They were all problems for the future

Tomorrow you could work on a solution

Tonight, you could hold his hand

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

bullseye, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Are you the insufferable, cocky, absolutely-no-good-for-anyone female equivalent of a fuckboy? Maybe. Okay, yeah. But guess who decided to come along and interrupt your conquests? Jeon Jungkook. What now? Complain to your best friend Kim Taehyung all day or fucking do something about it?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; alcohol consumption; Taehyung getting shitfaced lol; you're a cocky asshole and so is Jungkook, welp; schemes; smut (fem reader, making out / dry humping in public, cowgirl, m-masturbation, edging / orgasm denial, penetrative sex, so much kissing); non-idol!BTS; (secretly pining) fuckboy!Jungkook x bisexual, fuckgirl!reader; ft artist, best friend!Taehyung; mostly reader's POV with a short JK's POV

yes, it's purple-haired Butter JK

now playing – 마.피.아. in the morning by itzy

“Are you kidding me? Fucking Jeon Jungkook, again?”

“You need to calm down,” Kim Taehyung said, patting your shoulder and handing you a mojito.

“What I need is a fucking bow and arrow to shoot down this fucking pest!”

“I know you were the archery champion in high school, but that’s still a weird thing to think,” replied that baritone voice, pushing you into a chair so he could sit down as well, observing you violently chugging down the entire mojito in your rage. He seemed highly amused, looking a bit like a young French socialite in a black beret, loose tan dress shirt, and black slacks with black loafers. Gold accents because Kim Taehyung was that bitch. “Never ceases to impress me that you can do that.”

You pulled the glass from your lips, ice and mint clinking. “This is the third girl I’ve been dating that he’s just–” You flapped a hand in the general direction of the crowd at the bar, completely ignoring Taehyung’s comment about your record-breaking skills of draining cocktails. “–unashamedly making out with when clearly I’m right here.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, far too crass for how drop-dead handsome he was, but it seemed that he didn’t care. “I doubt he knows you’re here or that you’re dating them. And to make it fair on him, you were casually dating them all at once, so technically, no one is at fault here,” he added.

You narrowed your eyes. “I wasn’t–”

Taehyung gave you this look.

The look of ‘shut-up-you-know-I’m-right’.

Being your best friend, he had a right to do that.

“Shouldn’t you be mad at the girl anyway? Being faithful and all that, which, by the way, you are not.”

“Dating is not the same as being in a relationship,” you argued.

“Mmm, so fucking them is not indicative enough that you should be less of a fuckboy.”

“I’m not a fuckboy,” you muttered. “I’m a woman.”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “The general term still stands because you’re a class-A asshole.”

You closed your eyes and sucked in a deep breath, trying not to bolt home and buy a bow and arrow online to shoot, not Jeon Jungkook, but Kim Taehyung, because he was testing your last nerve with the truth.

“Again, why are you not mad at them?” Taehyung reoriented the conversation with a sweep of his arm when you opened your eyes, prompting your gaze to shift and witness Jeon Jungkook with his tongue down a pretty girl’s throat. This cheeky bastard was even wearing a leather jacket and white shirt, just like you. The only difference was that you wore a leather miniskirt and he wore black jeans with rips in the thighs, but both of you were wearing heeled black moto-style boots.

“Because he’s the denominator in this equation,” you snapped, smacking your glass on the table.

“Please do not make math references. My brain is not made for that.”

“Fractions? Tae, seriously, are you defective or–”

“Maybe he’s doing it to piss you off.”

“Well, I am pissed off!”

The bar was very loud with music and noise. Your shout was still clearly heard. Neither you or Taehyung seemed to care that people turned to look at you two and shake their heads.

Taehyung shrugged. “Then he succeeded.”

You clicked your tongue. “Why, though? I didn’t do anything to him. He just started popping up stealing my girls. What if I switch back to chasing dick and he takes them too?”

Taehyung snorted. “I doubt it. You’re just continuing on this train because you’re stubborn.”

As usual, he saw right through you.

He raised an elegant hand and tapped his lips. “Maybe he likes you.”

You gave Taehyung the most disbelieving, fiery, indignant look that you had ever produced in your life.

“Or, he doesn’t,” he hastily corrected. “Let’s face it, sometimes I don’t even like you and I would murder for your dumb ass.”

You tapped the melting glass of icy mint onto the tabletop.

Menacingly.

“If you think about it,” Taehyung began tentatively, scooting his chair slightly away from you with your flaming eyes boring holes in the back of Jeon Jungkook’s head. His hair was dark violet now so you could spot him easily, pinning your (not yours, but you know, that was your prey at one point) girl against the back wall of the bar. “He always goes after your target. He wants you to notice something.”

You watched a YouTube video once about making your own bow and arrow. It didn’t seem that difficult, all things considered. Sharpening a long stick with a knife and–

“Stop thinking about murder.”

You jerked your head back to Taehyung and his honey-brown curls framing his amused expression. You glared in response.

“I’ve never interacted with him a day in my life,” you frowned, abandoning your homicidal tendencies for the moment. “What does he want me to notice?”

Taehyung gave you a pained look. You returned with a black stare. Then he sighed and shook his head.

“He’s a fuckboy. You’re the female equivalent of a fuckboy. What do you think he wants?”

“My body count?”

Taehyung slapped his own face, muttering under his breath. “… be part of your body count.”

“Sorry, what?” You raised your voice over the bass. “Can’t hear you over the music.”

He raised his head. “I don’t know. Fight him. See what happens.”

“I’m not gonna win a fistfight.”

Taehyung looked ready to fistfight you.

You stood up, dragging him by the arm. “Come on, wingman. I need another drink. I’ll buy, since you got me the last one.”

Taehyung laughed, loud and full, yanking his arm out of your grip and clapping a hand around your shoulders, pulling you to him so your body knocked into him. You grimaced, now forced to walk side by side with him, not seeing the looks shared between the patrons witnessing you two together.

“Now we’re talking. I wanna get trashed.”

“Cure for a broken heart, am I right?”

“Mine’s shattered,” Taehyung chuckled, rubbing the left side of his chest playfully, but you couldn’t help but notice the hurt in his eyes. It was his idea to go out tonight and assist you with getting laid but, one, you didn’t need assistance and, two, he had recently broken up. It was pretty obvious he just wanted you to buy him drinks and have an excuse to do something.

Which was fine with you, until Jeon Jungkook showed up holding your previous eye candy.

Hmph.

Whatever, you had a Taehyung to nurse back to health with an obscene amount of alcohol.

Two hours later, you were standing in the men’s bathroom, holding Taehyung’s beret with one hand and his hair in the other as he vomited loudly into the toilet.

“Sup.”

The guy looked in the stall and then looked at you.

“You’re not supposed to be here…”

You raised an eyebrow. “You wanna hold his hair?”

The guy slunk away at your dismissive tone.

Taehyung tapped your thigh and you patted him on the head soothingly. He flushed and coughed.

"S... sorry," he croaked wetly.

You chuckled. "Wash your mouth, ya nasty."

He got up and you straightened his clothes in an almost maternal fashion.

"Need water, I think..." he winced, stumbling past you to the counter. You followed him to make sure he didn't hurl in the fucking sink.

"I'll be right back. Don't do anything crazy."

"Heh, that’s you," he slurred as he put his hands under the tap to wash up.

You plopped his beret on your head and sauntered out of the men's bathroom, unbothered by the stares and the people trying to catch your eye. It took you no time at all to waltz to the counter and obtain the water, striding back to the men's bathroom with the tall glass.

Only to run into you-know-who.

The girl sputtered your name in surprise as if she hadn't met you in this very bar a couple of weeks ago.

You completely ignored her existence, narrowing your eyes at the smirking face of Jeon Jungkook.

There was no denying his attractiveness. His purple hair was a little messy now, curling around his high cheekbones and large brown eyes. The dim light of the bar cast strange shadows over his chiseled jaw and shapely lips, curved into a devilish grin. He had a mole and red lipstick residue underneath his lower lip.

You had a strong urge to douse him and his leather jacket with your giant glass of water.

Taehyung was the one who found out Jungkook's name for you. You sent him on the mission after the first time this little shit started meddling in your business.

At this moment, you remembered that.

You pointedly looked away, walking past Jungkook, knocking into his arm forcefully and on purpose, annoyed that he seemed pretty strong under that jacket, muscular and lean. Whatever. You had a large bear cub named Kim Taehyung to take care of. You didn't have time to waste on Jeon Jungkook.

"Hey."

You stiffened at the deep, silvery voice. Of course. He had to have a sexy voice too. Bitch.

"You should apologize."

Your eyes flickered to the glass of water. It was pretty cold in your hand. You raised your chin back up, facing towards the bathrooms.

The choice was easy.

You continued waking and raised your free hand to flip Jeon Jungkook the bird, off to deliver the water to your best friend.

Some guy at the urinal screamed as you entered the men's bathroom but you completely ignored him, only focusing on Taehyung, who was gripping the corner of the sink, turning not to pass out, pallid face dripping and looking green.

"Drink this and I'll take you home."

"Ugh, thanks for the other day... sorry I wasn't the best wingman... I ended up making you exorcize my demons instead..."

You laughed, jabbing a toothpick in the steaming fried chicken. You and Kim Taehyung again, hanging out in the afternoon at the local chicken spot.

"It's cool. I know you needed it."

Taehyung frowned. "If you knew, why did you play along?"

You shrugged. "You would've done the same for me."

He smiled and popped a piece of crispy chicken in his mouth. "Yeah, if you ever had a serious relationship for once."

You glared. "This is a non-judgment zone. Shut up."

He chuckled. Then he leaned in and you grimaced, catching a whiff of his chicken breath. He was wearing a pinstriped shirt and neglected to button the first two because he was too hot to bother with some stupid buttons. You weren't going to say you could relate, but you were wearing a loose black sweater dress that was bordering on flashing your panties, so, maybe.

"I heard from a little birdie that you had a run-in with the bane of your existence."

You raised an eyebrow. "The tax man?"

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "No, the other one."

Now it was your turn to roll yours. "Oh, right. The Dark Lord."

Taehyung gave you a weird look. "Is that a movie reference or..."

"Harry Potter, ever heard of it?"

"You're such a nerd."

"That's not... anyway, so what?"

He wiggled his eyebrows. "He spoke to you."

You narrowed your eyes. "Where do you get your information?"

He fidgeted. "Uh... a reliable source that chooses to remain anonymous."

Your eyes became slits. "Who."

Taehyung stick his tongue out at you. "The whole point of anonymous is you not knowing!"

"Who are you, fucking Rita Skeeter–"

"Stop with the weird references!"

"For fuck's sake," you hissed, causing a mother sitting at a table near yours to chastise you, covering their kid’s ears. You frowned, lowering your voice. "Alright so what? He opened his mouth; nothing original came out." You jabbed another piece of chicken.

"Well? Feel any tension? Sweet romance? Unbridled fury?" Taehyung piped, greatly interested in your two-second interaction with Jeon Jungkook.

You chewed, huffing. "I had a big kid to take care of. I didn't give a shit."

"Hey, I'm not a kid!" he shot back.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, you’re more important to me than poking his pretty eyeballs out of his head, so I didn't even reply."

Taehyung paused, mid-chew. "Really?"

"Yes, I didn't say–"

"No, that I'm important to you."

Taehyung was doing that thing where his big brown eyes went all sparkly and sentimental. It was making you uncomfortable. Bad with feelings and all that. The only reason you tolerated it was because Taehyung had been like this ever since he was that dorky weird kid you defended from bullies in elementary school. A folding chair was involved and you might have watched too many WWE TLC (tables, ladders, chairs) matches as a kid, but hey, those bullies didn’t bother Taehyung ever again, did they?

You got sent to detention for the rest of the year and anger management counseling appointments, but Taehyung remained your friend throughout the whole ordeal and for years to come, tolerating your poor life choices so… worth?

You reached over and shut his open mouth. "Of course, you are, that's why I'm not calling you a disgusting pig for chewing with your mouth open."

"Oi, that's bullying!"

"You bully me all the time," you snorted and the same mom made a noise of distaste that you pretended not to hear. "Like now you keep bringing up the spawn of Satan."

"You're also the spawn of Satan, by the way."

"Yeah, and you're my guardian angel and he ain't got shit, so I’ve already won this war."

Taehyung laughed nervously.

"Er, yes... totally..."

Another day, another conquest.

Well, you had to find the prey first, but that wasn’t going to be hard.

“You’re a chronic asshole.”

“Thanks, Tae. You sure you don’t wanna come?”

He rolled his eyes at you as you shrugged on one of his black dress shirts. You checked the tag. Silk. Damn. Kim Taehyung was a fancy bitch. He leaned against the closet doorframe as you fitted your black leather corset-style belt at your waist to cinch it in. You often raided Taehyung’s closet and paired it with your accessories. Did he enjoy your fucking in his clothes? Probably not, but you always returned them cleaned in the proper way, so he couldn’t complain.

He did anyway.

“No, I don’t. Let me sulk.”

“Ah, yes, moody starving artist, I’ll let you be,” you snickered, slinging the waist bag over your shoulder, wearing it across your chest instead of your hips. You lightly punched him in the arm and he pretended to topple over exaggeratedly. “You going to paint today?”

He shrugged. “I think. Dunno what media I want to use.”

“Just use a bunch of different ones. Your mixed media stuff is amazing,” you replied, waltzing out of his bedroom, past his messy studio with a blank canvas balanced on a wooden easel in the center of absolute chaos of paints. You helped him organize them once, but Taehyung often was too in the zone to pay attention to neatness.

“When’s the exhibit? I want to drop by,” you commented, seeing the line of his works safely wrapped up, leaning against the wall.

“Um… next week, Thursday through Sunday,” Taehyung replied sheepishly, cheeks flaring red at the mention of his own art exhibit. He was humble even though he was talented. “I’ll text you the address. Don’t show up looking like a high-paid escort.”

You tucked your feet into your heels and raised an eyebrow.

Silk black men’s shirt worn as a dress, belted at the waist to show off your curves, bare legs out, toned calves standing out due to your sleek black high heels.

“Who, me? Never.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Text me if you need a ride.”

“You got it.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

You tapped your nails on the bar, having already finished your peach mojito.

“Fucking Jeon Jungkook, again?”

You needed to invest in a bow and arrow, like, yesterday.

Shoot right between his pretty eyeballs. Dude even pulled back his long, deep purple hair into a smooth ponytail with wispy strands framing his sculpted face. Was that damn eyeliner and mascara making his eyes look sharper, sexier? Fuck, he even knew how to make himself look even hotter.

Not as hot as you, of course.

“How does he always know where I’m at?” you muttered under your breath, turning away to look at the bartender and order another mojito. Watermelon. It seemed interesting. Fuck it, you were going to focus on drinking rather than the thorn in your side, Jeon Jungkook and his black dress shirt halfway buttoned and his tight-fitting black slacks with sleek oxfords. The bartender slid your glass in front of you, a gradient of pink to transparent with a little sprig of mint on top. It was a pretty drink.

You reached into your waist bag to pay, but the bartender stopped you.

“The gentleman over there paid for you. A gift.”

Oh? Maybe a potential for the night. You shifted your gaze to–

Oh.

“Tell him to fu–”

But the bartender was already off servicing other customers on this busy night.

Shit.

You know what? Fine. He put himself up as the target. He wanted to play this game.

And you never missed a bullseye.

You tilted your head to survey Jeon Jungkook out of the corner of your eye, making his way over to you, bringing your drink close to your lips. He stopped right next to you. The colorful lights of the club made rainbows dance across his lightly tanned skin and his dark lips, curled into a smug smirk.

“Hey.”

You cocked an eyebrow.

Drank.

Mmm, fuck, that was some deliciously smooth rum. The watermelon was a refreshing addition to the mint too. You probably weren’t meant to drink it all at once, but you were glaring at Jungkook who was pointedly watching your throat swallow and it was aggravating you more and more, the entire drink disappearing in record time, leaving nothing but ice and mint.

You smacked the glass down on this table with a hiss.

Jungkook purred your name with that deep, silvery voice of his. His eyes flickered down to your exposed collarbones and then back up to your face.

You clicked your tongue.

Then you turned away from him dismissively, walking past him, knocking into his arm forcefully and on purpose.

But instead of letting it happen, Jungkook shifted his weight and slid to block your path. You stopped, eyes darting up to narrow at that conceited little brat’s face. Now you could smell his cologne, fresh, sensual, a mix of pungent dragon fruit and black coffee.

Hold on.

You inhaled. Yup, no mistaking it.

That was your perfume.

Jungkook grinned as the realization hit you. How did he know what perfume you used?

“The fuck you want?” you growled.

He licked his lips slowly. He ticked his chin, taunting you.

“Finally got you to talk to me,” he purred, chuckling.

Alright, you were past causing actual bodily harm these days – jail being your primary reason – but that didn’t stop you from staring down Jeon Jungkook and his self-satisfied smirk with your signature tapering of your sharp stare.

You just stood there.

Menacingly.

He bit his lower lip, exposing that tiny mole underneath, shivering under your gaze. “Are you mad at me?” he asked, almost innocently, but there was no chance in hell that he was.

You quirked your head, lifting your chin defiantly. “Absolutely fuming,” you replied acidly.

He took a step towards you, closing the distance, so close you could feel his warmth, your breasts brushing against his chest. Now people were whispering around you two, sensing the tension between you and Jungkook. The similar outfits, the same violent energy, the same predatory aura.

As if the fox had confronted the wolf.

“What’s there to be mad about when we play the same game?” Jungkook drawled.

Cocky. The fox was so damn cocky.

“You’re just nibbling on my leftovers,” you countered, stepping forward so you pressed against him, burning body heat to burning body heat. “Which makes you the scavenger.”

Jungkook leaned down, dark brown eyes glittering with amusement.

“Then why so angry?”

His lips ghosted over yours, breathing in your exhale.

“I’m just a pest, right? A mere annoyance in your eventual victory.”

His lashes lowered, arrogant smirk reaching his dark eyes.

“Play your ace. Let’s see if it works,” he purred in the deep, sexy octave of his.

Shut up.

A low snarl rumbled in your chest.

“Shut up, Jeon Jungkook.”

You gripped his belt and yanked him to your body, rolling your crotch into his, your lips colliding with that maddening smirk, alcohol, dragon fruit, black coffee, flint igniting the dry wood, devouring his lips hungrily, his hands sliding up your sides, and his smile.

Triumph.

Shit.

You couldn’t give two fucks about Jeon Jungkook and he was into it.

Like the impossible enigma, he couldn’t figure you out but he was drawn to you anyway. The whole world was your plaything, and you treated it as such. There was something exciting about you, the thrill too irresistible to avoid when you made your presence known. Always you and that teasing smile, never getting serious, making everyone hesitate to take it farther with you. Who could blame them with your borderline brash attitude and ease of moving from one to the next?

That and your friendship with Kim Taehyung, who was a whole damn tiger next to your wolfish nature.

At first, Jungkook was intrigued.

As time went on, he became frustrated and annoyed.

What gave you the right to ignore him?

You picked up guys far less attractive than he was, not that he was that vain but, seriously, he was right here! Waiting to be caught. He didn’t try to interfere at first. In fact, Jungkook wasn’t even the sleep-around-and-mess-with-feelings kind of guy. But the more he watched you, the more impressed he was, seeing the way you charmed your way into everyone’s hearts, the way you focused on them for that moment, making them feel like they were the most perfect creature on Earth before slinking to the next, leaving them with a pining heart and lost in fantasies of what-ifs.

And, yeah, you were hot.

What was Jungkook going to do?

He could do nothing.

Or he could befriend Kim Taehyung, get under your skin, and make you notice him.

Not a scheme, per se.

Kind of a scheme.

Alright, definitely a scheme.

In Jungkook’s defense, your best friend Taehyung was all for it. Taehyung was the one who came up with all the ideas, informed him of your location, and the names of the girls you were after.

“Give her a taste of her own medicine. She needs a reality check.”

The problem was, Jungkook didn’t really want to let you go now that you were in his arms.

“Silly pretty boy.”

You had his chin in your palm, pressing your thumb against Jungkook’s lower lip, opening his hungry mouth to tease him with your tongue, tracing his soft lips and thrusting in, his low moan filling your lungs. His hands on your waist tightened, pulling you closer even through you were already in his lap, murmurs and eyes on you, but neither your nor Jungkook cared, used to this by now.

You were, after all, making out in the club.

The chair scraped against the ground as Jungkook firmly placed your thighs on either side of his, thrusting upwards into your core, letting your feel his rapidly growing hardness with every one of your kisses. Your hair feathered his cheeks and shoulders as your free hand toyed with his ponytail, twirling it in your fingers, smirking into his lips with his gasp from you grinding back down on his crotch, rolling your hips into him.

“Thought I was the bane of your existence?” Jungkook taunted under you, squeezing your ass through the silk and meeting your movements, staring into your eyes with his. So dark, so smokey, so fucking sexy, almost like looking into a mirror, because you too wore similar makeup, maybe a little darker and a little more of a flick to your eyeliner. “Just going to kiss me to shut me up?”

You wouldn’t be surprised if the other clubgoers were eagerly watching now, waiting to see what was going to happen between you and him.

“I don’t need to be on your mouth to shut you up,” you mused, tugging his ponytail back and kissing down his neck, tongue tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling him shudder under your lips and teeth, lightly nipping at his skin. Tracing circles, gentle kisses, relishing in his gasps and his tightened grip on you, letting your breath linger for that extra second, that extra what-if, kissing back up his neck and onto his jawline, murmuring his name sweetly, tip of your tongue curling around his earrings and bouncing them, sighing softly in his ear.

“Can’t claim my leftovers when my leftovers are you, now can you, naughty boy?” you chuckled darkly, pressing your breasts on his hot chest and your clothed pussy on the tip of his stiff length, rutting against it, making him hiss your name.

“I have no intention of being leftovers,” he growled into your ear.

Your eyes flew open as his lips transfixed to the space under your ear, sucking hard, forcing you to squeeze your thighs at the attack on your erogenous zone, sparks of arousal flinching through you, soaking your panties. You gasped, hips bucking into his needily, barely processing his words, his tongue flicking against your throbbing skin, lips and teeth, and then his mouth was moving, traveling up your earlobe, nipping at the curve, your eyelids fluttering, clutching his purple ponytail tightly.

How did he know? Did he ask your previous conquests to spill the information? There was no time to think, his hands traveling up your back, clenching fistfuls of your shirt and digging his nails into your back, your body responding and squirming against him, the quiet whine of his name escaping your lips and drifting right into his ear.

“J… Jungkook…”

He groaned, turning your head forcefully, him kissing you this time, just as ravenous, just as powerful, basically simulating sex in the middle of the fucking club with the way your hips were twisting into his and he was thrusting back against you, breathless, whispering in your mouth so only you could hear his words resonate in your chest.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, you turn me on so fucking easily, I just have to have you,” he murmured, his forehead pressed against yours, capturing your lips again and again. “There’s no way you’re any good for me, but I don’t care, fuck.”

You snickered, eye to eye, trapped in those expanding pupils and his heavy pants. “They say the same about you, Jeon Jungkook.”

You felt him smirk. “Nah, not me. No one calls me the spawn of Satan.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Because I do.”

Jungkook’s tongue licked your lips, making your shiver in delight. “That was special treatment. Just for you.”

Hold on a second.

Through your hazy buzzed brain, you began to piece the puzzle together. With each part falling into place, the amusement in Jungkook’s eyes grew and grew, seeing you fill in the missing blanks. Your eyes widened and you curled a finger around his ponytail, yanking roughly to pull his grinning face away from yours. You jerked back, but his strong hands held you in place.

Wispy strands of violet framing that devious expression.

“Taehyung,” you breathed, venomous.

Jungkook had the audacity to cock an eyebrow.

“Yep.”

You were going to kill Taehyung. That little shit! Taehyung was no idiot, so he must have planned this somehow. He always telling you to get serious and stop messing around. That’s why Jungkook always knew who you were dating, where you were, and what you were wearing! Did Taehyung recruit Jeon Jungkook to trick you? Fuck! He was dead meat, scheming against you like this!

Jungkook brought you out of your homicidal tendencies with a soft drawl of your name.

“For the record, he was helping me out,” he murmured, pulling you to him, pressing your chest to his. You narrowed your eyes, his hard cock still throbbing against your panties. “I want you.”

He lowered his face, breathing hard.

“Not just like this.”

Your eyes widened.

“I said I’m not going to be leftovers.” Looking deep into your eyes, holding you tightly. “I’m not going to let you throw me away like the rest.” Every inhale making your body rise into his touch, his deep, silvery voice saturated with lust and determination. “I’m going to make you fall in love with me as much as I am in love with you.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but…

Jungkook gave you this look.

The look of ‘you-know-you’ve-already-lost’.

You could sit here and pretend, but you were also grinding back onto his dick right out here in the open, clutching his purple hair and his pretty face. His hard body was tucked snugly in your thighs. That smug little smirk. Shit, shit, shit.

Jeon Jungkook got you and he got you good.

He knew it too, his hands sliding down and grabbing your ass again, rolling his hips into yours.

“Come on. Let’s fuck.”

“Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes!”

Jungkook threw his head back onto his pillows, exposing his straining throat, veins popping out, clutching your hips strongly to rut back against you as you smacked your crotch down onto him, riding him hard and fast, your hands next to his head, his long purple hair a mess even if it was still in the ponytail, sweat glistening on his forehead, moaning loudly with your walls closing in on his hardness. You were too busy fucking the daylights out of him to say anything, but Jungkook had plenty to say, hazy eyes opening and gasping as he viewed your body hovering over him, naked with his hickeys on your neck and breasts, strong thighs flexed on either side of him, his rock-hard cock repeatedly disappearing into your tight, wet hole.

“Fuck, I knew it, I knew you would be so fucking good and so fucking sexy,” he whined, nails digging into your hips and adding more force to your thrusts.

Your clothes and his clothes were all over his bedroom floor.

Your phone was on his nightstand.

Tonight, you sent one text to Kim Taehyung.

I’m gonna buy a bow and arrow and shoot you in the ass.

You screen flashed, indicating Taehyung had replied. One quick flick of your eyes and you smirked.

Oh shit.

Jungkook squeezed your ass, making your return your attention to him.

“Focus on me,” he begged, blown-out pupils. “Only me, please.”

“So needy,” you teased, licking your lips slowly. He groaned under you, mouth opening, his pretty pink tongue lolling out, desperate to be sucked. “If you think you can keep me, you’ll have to last longer than this, Jungkook.”

He swallowed hard at the way you said his name, a mixture of warning and desire.

“P-Please… it’s too good, I-I can’t…”

You redoubled your efforts, roughly slapping your hips into his, enjoying the loud sound and the way your core tightened, constricting him inside you, telling him he couldn’t cum until you did and deliberately holding yourself back, shifting your attention when you felt it rise, denying him over and over, until he was like this, whole body shaking, grasping your ass, sweat on his chest. His right arm, covered in tattoos, looking extra delicious in the moonlight, so fucking perfect with his forearms flexed with tension. You purposefully stared into his brown eyes overtaken with lust, his lips trembling from denying himself his own orgasm.

Jungkook whimpered your name.

On the verge of breaking, helpless at your command.

A sharp throb inside you, wildly turned on by his duality.

You smirked.

“Jungkook.”

You inhaled deeply, sighing in satisfaction with the wave of pleasure, intense shivering pulses running up and down his length, sinking down so he could feel it all, the tight and rough massage of your orgasm taking over, low moan of his name emitting from your throat, and Jungkook followed suit, louder and lewder, eyes rolling back as he shot into the condom with jerking hips, burying the twitching head deep inside you, swelling the latex with thick cum, rocking you back and forth on his length, your juices dripping down and coating the inside of your joined thighs.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck, so good, s-so fucking good…”

You know what, he was right.

It was so fucking good.

You savored it, the ecstasy that seemed endless and overwhelming, squeezing Jungkook between your thighs and moaning, just something about it, so satisfying and gratifying listening to his wheezing gasps and content whimpers, lowering yourself to his face, and he raised his, your hands sliding under his head, giving him what he wanted, light, maddening, carnal kisses, his cheeks, his chin, his quivering lips, whining your name, pleading with you to play with him more, more, tugging on his ponytail and his hands stroking your breasts, rolling your hard nipples between his index and thumb fingers, shaking at your hissing inhale.

“Hey,” you murmured, clenching him between your legs to get his attention.

Jungkook blinked at you, brown eyes unfocused, panting hard. “Y-Yeah?”

“You should apologize.”

The side of his swollen lips quirked upwards despite his fucked-out state. His deep voice was slightly hoarse. “What for? Tell me and I will.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For your scheming and using my own best friend against me.”

Jungkook smirked slyly.

“I’m sorry.”

He lifted you and made sure he had the condom before he pulled out, still semi-hard. You narrowed your eyes. He sure as hell didn’t sound sorry. Didn’t look sorry either, peeling the condom off and crawling over the bed to toss it in the trash before straightening.

“Sounding insincere there,” you remarked coolly, balancing your chin on the back of your knuckles, elbow on the bed, tapping the air impatiently.

“I mean it,” he purred, reaching for the towel beside the bed and knocking the condoms from his nightstand to the sheets. His right hand wrapped around his glistening length, still covered in lube and his cum, toned hips thrusting into his closed fist, grinning with his lower lip between his teeth as you watched him.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

Slowly jacking himself off as his eyes roamed over your curves, moaning lustfully, lingering on your legs, clutching the towel in his left hand so hard his knuckles were pale, forearms flexed, the slick head of his cock turning purple-red, emerging from between his closed fingers, throbbing as it was choked by his harsh grip.

“Let me make it up to you,” Jungkook shuddered, stroking faster, making wet squelching sounds, his muscular thighs bulging with effort.

Fuck, he was so damn attractive.

You kept an indifferent look on your face, raising your leg, your free hand sliding down, tracing the outside of your already wet opening. Those hungry dark brown orbs immediately fixated on it, moaning imploringly as you dipped your fingers in it, soft squishing noises as you spread open your soaked pussy, slipping a finger in your heat, gently thrusting.

He gasped your name, begging you.

It made you wetter, seeing his want. He knew it too, brutally fisting his cock, hips quivering.

“Stop.”

Jungkook whined despairingly, pulling his hand away, his stiff cock bouncing from the swiftness of the movement, cutting off his own orgasm. He sucked in a shivering breath, tipping his hips up to you so his glossy, hard length twitched.

You shifted, laying back against his pillows, opening your legs.

Smirk on your lips.

“Mmm, fuck, yes, fuck me with that.”

Jungkook smirked back.

It took him no time at all to wipe his hand and crotch off, ripping open another condom and moaning as he rolled it down, the mere contact of the thin encasement stimulating his sensitive skin. He slid up to you, gripping your knees and spreading you even wider, pressing the tip against your drenched heat.

He whispered your name, like sweet smoke.

“Hm?”

Jungkook leaned down, kissing you deeply as he sank into you, drinking in your gasp at the fullness.

“I’m going to make you feel so, so good,” he mumbled into your lips, pecking you softly.

He was about to retreat but your hands snapped up, tangling into his messy violet waves, clutching his ponytail. Jungkook blinked at you, questioning.

“Not too far away,” you said with a playful smile. “I wanna see that handsome face of yours.”

He bit his lower lip, tiny mole and wicked grin revealing themselves.

“Okay.”

He lifted his hips and plunged fully into you, the connection of your hips making a loud, wet smack.

“Fuck, Jungkook…!”

And you could tell from his elated expression and his furious pace that he was ecstatic at your response, chasing it, chasing you, moaning as you caught him between your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, gaining some leverage and meeting his thrusts, fingers tightening in his soft hair, fuck, so beautiful, the way the pleasure overtook his handsome features, his hazy dark brown orbs shrouded in lust, his pink lip trembling in his teeth, sharp jaw set, but still maintaining a little bit of that cunning exterior that ensnared you in the first place, unknowingly at the time, the side of his lips ticking up, this cheeky bastard.

Jungkook saw the way you looked at him.

He adjusted the position, hitting deeper, swelling inside you, and, fuck, you couldn’t help it, you smirked too because he was so, so full of himself and so were you, insufferable, troublesome, competitive even now, the obscene smack of his crotch hitting your hips, wet and noisy, the squish of your juices smearing against his inner thighs as you wildly matched his rapid, bruising rhythm, your moans blending together, sweet hot harmony, his bedframe ramming against the wall, and, as usual, neither of you caring, far to occupied with yourselves, pleasure snaking between you, up your spine and into your head, mixing with the light buzz of alcohol, a different kind of euphoria from every other one-night stand, because this was Jeon Jungkook and he wasn’t going to be a one-night stand.

His lower lip popped out of his teeth and he gasped your name.

Longingly, breathlessly.

Was he thinking the same thing?

You lifted yourself a little, your hands molded to his head, whispering intensely against his shaking lips.

“Don’t worry, Jungkook. We have all night and the morning.”

Fuck, he had a brilliant smile.

It was actually doomed for you, but you weren’t mad about it.

Eye contact, and he didn’t waver, thrusting deep into you, low moan pulled from his chest, jolting shudders sliding down his shoulders and then in between you and him, his cock twitching and spilling into the condom again, roughly clamped by your tightness, and you were already there, falling over the edge with a soft cry, straining your neck and pushing his head down to you to collide your lips with his, greedy for his kiss, his taste, his whimpers at your forcefulness.

“Jungkook, ah…”

He said your name in the same tone, delicate and possessive, a bullseye right to the heart.

“On one hand, I’m glad you’re finally serious about someone.”

You paid absolutely no attention to the annoyed baritone voice of your best friend.

“On the other hand,” Kim Taehyung gritted out, smacking you in the shoulder blades as you crawled into Jeon Jungkook’s lap, kisses intensifying, a needy whine in his chest, his hands wrapping around your waist. “Really feeling like a third wheel, you two! Stop making out for one goddamn second!”

He threw up his hands as both of you pretended to be deaf.

interlude respect drabble — "how much did you see?" popcorn drabble — "who are they?"

part ii threesome, ft kth — got it bad

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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