#i just hate it !! it has upset me sm !! i do feel a little sick but thats just shock still!!

[cheeseblind]

.

[hermanunworthy]

!DNDADS S2 EP45 SPOILERS!

WE ARE SO BACK (im going to die)

- so i have been informed that we have a NEW HERMIE FACT THIS EP??? so i have been SICK TO MY STOMACH WONDERING WHAT ITS GONNA BE. I WAS NOT EXPECTING TO GET ANOTHER

- OH THE INTRO GUY IS THE FUCKING. THE PODCAST GUY WHO CALLED TAYLOR A SLUR AGKDJD

- THE CHAOS ORBS BIT HAS ME GIGGLING

- THESE RAD FACTS ARE A MESS HELPP

- NOT FREDDIE IMMEDIATELY FACT CHECKING BETH

- I.

- I?????

- THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING.

- OH THAT IS SO

- OH MY GOD IM GONNA DIE

- I ASKED FOR HERMIES LORE AND I GOT IT. ITS JUST NOTHING. THERE IS NO REAL LORE

- THAT WAS SO FUCKING EVIL IM DONE BRO

- kills myself

- i havent even continued to the actual episode yet im just so shocked and upset by this. scam u evil mf i love u but why

- BACK IN EP34 HERMIE LITERALLY DESCRIBED SCAM AS "THE MAN WHO STOLE MY CHILDHOOD". yknow maybe a little murder IS deserved /hj

- finally unpausing. im a ghost now im dead

- TERRY AND GLENN. TERRY AND GLENN

- TERRY WAS THE ONE WHO SHOT NICK??? OR IS HE JUST SAYING THAT

- SCARY SPEAKING TO TERRY AAAUAGAHHH

- WHY IS YHIS FIGHT SO PATHETIC LMAOO THERE WAS SM HYPE FOR IT BEFORE

- I FORGOT THERE WAS GONNA BE A RON AND TERRY REUNION TOO OH GOD. OH GOD

- NORMAL. OH GOD

- HE WAS CRYING A BUNCH DONT DO THIS TO ME

- TERRY AND SCARY IM GONNA DIE

- "maybe it was just a phase" HOLY SHIT THATS BIG

- RON DESCRIBING NICKYS RELATIONSHIP W THE KIDDADS AS "ENEMIES TO LOVERS"

- SO RON WAS THERE AT THE NICKY BETRAYAL???

- THE GUN WAS GLOWING BLUE

- FREDDIE BEING NICKYS BIGGEST FAN 😢😢 YEAH U GO AND SUPPORT UR SONDAD

- TERRY SHOOTING NICKY TO SAVE GRANT. AND THEN LATER GRANT SHOOTING TERRY IN FRONT OF NICKY. WHY.

- TERRY AND SCARY HUG. WAAAAAA

- RON IS IN THE HUG TOO I CANT DO THIS OH MY GOD THIS FUCKING FAMILY

- damn the marlowe family daddy magic sequence was sooo much faster than the wilsons

- SCARY SAID SHE LOVES HIM. SCARY. SAID. 🧍 GUYS

- AAAUGH. NICKY POINTING OUT GLENN NOT BEING THERE FOR TAYLORS BIRTH

- THE BABY TAYLOR NOISES

- glenn showing up high is quite upsetting to me actually

- JODIE VISITED TAYLOR. MULTIPLE TIMES. TELL ME WHY IM CRYING

- I HATE MYSELF WHY AM I SO HERMIE FOCUSED WHY IS THIS MAKING ME CRY

- GLENN STOP. UR HURTING ME

- "dang. idk if i like that guy" whimpers like a hurt dog

- TAYLOR. TAYLOR SWIFT. M GONNA CRY AGAIN

- ITS ABOUT THE. THE GENERATIONAL TRAUMA. THE ABSENT FATHERS. THE VALUING OF CASUAL FRIENDSHIP OVER ACTUAL PARENTHOOD

- TAYLOR TALKING IN TJAT REALLY QUIET TINY VOICE IS KILLING ME. HES JUST A LITTLE BABY GUY

- NICKY BEING REMINDED THROUGH TAYLOR WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO BE NICK IS SOOO EVIL

- GOING INTO TAYLORS MEMORIES?? TAYLOR LORE....

- FREDDIE IS COMING OUT W THE BIG GUNS THIS EPISODE WOW. FOR SOME REASON I WAS NOT EXPECTING TAYLOR ANGST TODAY

- GLENN CLOSE. HAVE U SERIOUSLY LEARNED NOTHING

- OH YEAH TAYLORS NEVER HAD DISNEYLAND

- THERE IS NO FIXING THIS.

- LINCOLN HUGGING SHMEGAN HELP

- OH NO WAIT THE FBI IS TAKING OVER HELL AFTER ALL

- "get taylor and nick out" and not hermie. sorry ill shut up (NO I WONT. THERE HAS BEEN NO HERMIE THIS EP BESIDES THAT DEVASTATING RAD FACT)

- LINCOLN AS THE KING OF HELL WHAT?????

- NORMAL OFFERING TO BE THE KING OH MY GOD.

- NORMAL AND TAYLOR HAVE TO FIGHT NOW?? FR THIS TIME???

- "I WAS JUST BEING ANGSTY" HELP

- ONLY ONE GETS TO LEAVE ALIVE???????

- WHAT. WHAT

- i. i am in shock. idk how to feel. oh my lord

[aqueeracademic]

morse being queer (and other commentary) pt 13:

season 4, episode 1, “Game”:

- season 4!! let’s go

- need me some gay stuff

- season three was not very fruity

- wtf instrument is this lady playing

- thursday is such an asshole sometimes it’s a wonder i like him

- trewlove is perfect in every way

- “where do you stand with all that?” “suicide?” “love.”

- morse and debryn supremacy!!!

- look i KNOW morse thinks of joan when debryn referenced the “one that got away” but…. don’t you think they could be talking about jakes too?

- because i think they’re talking about jakes

- morse’s papers going missing is SO frustrating

- people hate to see my boy succeed and i’m sick of it!

- i know thursday is sad because of joan but morse has every right to be frustrated with him

- at the same time…

- morse copes by working

- with everhthing

- if anything upsets him he goes to work and locks in

- so i can see how he wouldn’t be particularly understanding of thursday not being able to push through and he should try better to be sympathetic

- i still think he has every right to be frustrated w him tho

- tessa knight 🤢🤮🤮🤮

- thursday is SO MEANNNNNNNN

- and for what!

- these scientists are gay <3

- they bicker like a couple and then immediately try to take care of each other it’s adorable

- morse speaking russian 🥰🥰🥰

- i’m giggling

- i love that bright is always so dramatically impressed when morse does something well

- bright and trewlove are so 🤞🥺 i’m obsessed with them

- trewlove showing that sexist motherfucker UP

- I LOVE HER

- “it’s not my place to say.”

- he is. so catty.

- these parents deserve so much better i feel so terrible for them

- thursday’s way of “making it up” to morse is so annoying

- i know he feels bad for hurting morse but just talk to him

- we all know we doesn’t care about validation or congratulations

- like he knows that! and yet 🫤

- the russian man being fully capable of speaking english and just choosing not to do so is so funny to me

- i already don’t like journalists about 60% of the time but this girl is ESPECIALLY annoying and i hate her

- this author is kinda…

- morse obviously doesn’t wanna talk to this author about his job so why on earth did he pull up to the guys house

- that’s my question!

- is it just because he’s….

- because he is!

- morse would be right

- ofc he quickly ends up disliking him but it’s the hope in that situation that matters 🙄

- also morse telling him that police work is boring in real life as if he didn’t get attacked by a tiger and experience all the events of The Great Gatsby is wild

- just straight up lying at this point

- STEALING FROM A POLICE OFFICER?????

- you stole. from a police officer.

- i cannot believe she is like this 😐 i hate her sm

- and of course the same day he finds out that he is being intentionally sabotaged is the day he’s being berated for “losing his notebook”

- cannot catch a break

- at least he and thursday are trying to make up

- these scientists are SO GAY (the awkward one w the glasses and the snobby one with the mouse)

- teasing him while massaging him and then putting his hand on his waist when he gets up

- Science Bros™️

- i don’t like her and all that but tessa didn’t deserve to die 🫤

- the face casts are so upsetting

- makes my damn skin crawl

- the odds of morse finding that paper in the doll were positively MINUSCULE he literally just can’t keep his hands to himself

- justice for frazil i just want her to be happy

- incest should never be the answer in a murder investigation tbh

- or like… even an idea of what happened

- grody tbh!

- NO FRAZIL NO

- aw GODDAM IT

- THE LITTLE GAY SCIENTIST IS THE KILLER

- i’m so upset

- i thought he and the mouse man had something 🫤🫤

- they would have been so cute

- but no he’s not gay he’s fucking incestuous

- i’m mad 🙄🙄🙄🙄

- morse finally driving his car at a reasonable speed

- GO FRAZIL GO

- NO FRAZIL NO

- i stg if anything happened to her i would lose my mind i’m so glad she’s okay

- morse just roasting the killer to get him to surrender is… a choice

- “you have to make a stand somewhere. they’re not going to drive me out.”

- YOU TELL EM MORSE

- morse has lost everyone he’s loved and all he had left is the place he loves and he will not leave and i love him for it

[unhingedhearties]

Rage Over A Wrap Photo: Part 2 (Twitter)

Here are some of the responses from unhinged Hearties on Twitter regarding When Calls The Heart lead actress Erin Krakow’s photo celebrating the wrap of Season 11. These screencaps have been edited a little to combine some of the responses to one post.

Repeat offender TeamE83Liz/HeartieETLB comes in strong with the self entitlement. How dare Erin be grateful for the long-running TV show she’s worked on and “her lil’ Show Set Community”, which I can only guess means the other actors and crew. Given how long this show’s been on the air, Erin’s probably known some of these people for a decade. E83Liz has such a self-centered, off-putting personality, that the concept of long-term relationships must be alien to her. Damn it, she’s upset because Erin clearly doesn’t “give a sh_t about us fans!” The proof she doesn’t give a sh_t about her fans being this behind the scenes photo she shared to her fans to celebrate another Season being completed. And of course she finishes off her reply with hashtags insulting the Show Runner and Executive producer, as well as this creepy one “ErinUseToBeCute”.

You know how a lot of really sick men with disgusting attitudes towards women will often hold these weird, opposing views where they both lust after a woman, but loathe her and say degrading things about her?

Just… keep that in the back of your mind anytime you see a post with old E83Liz here.

Three more fully grown adults getting offended by a photo of shoes.

“The message it sends…” Jesus Christ. These are the kinds of people who chimp out on you if they don’t like the way you breathe and always accuse you of having “a tone” when you speak. Anything and everything is a stealthy attack against them.

“I am trying to be respectful and polite…” Don’t try, do. Because it’s just a photo. Of the ground. Where they’re standing.

I need to make a Bingo card, because there’s “salt in the wound” for the 10th time.

Someone makes a fair and rational point that both sides of these two stupid groups who waste their lives fangirling over fictional couples have had people act like assholes towards the actors. They can also tell the difference between the actor and the character they play on TV.

Julie flops in to counter this with the idea that people like her have been (and I’m really embarrassed to type this, even as a quote) “warriors” who “supported her” and were greatly dishonored when Erin posted that photo of the ground instead of honoring her life debt to these noble internet soldiers.  

E83Liz comes in with another gem. “I’m behind in the grieving!” 

Multiple wars around the world…

Millions of deaths from covid…

Nothing compared to a fictional couple on TV breaking up. Pray you never know such pain and loss.

“I don’t have anyone to turn to for help. Bc they’ve left SM or hate me!”

What!? Hate you? Why would anyone feel that way when you have so much to offer other people?

BONUS ROUND:

In what must have been a coordinated attack to commit jihad on Lucabeth fans, Executive Producer Brian Bird shared this photo of him spending the day with his family (including grandkids) in his home time for some kind of Christmas tree lighting celebration. Fortunately, the predominantly Christian fanbase proved themselves to be shining examples of Christ’s love and compas-

-_-

“She just wants to kiss as many guys as possible…”

Yes, that’s how TV works. That’s exactly how season long story arcs are created. Big Brain here has it all figured out.

[kiyelle]

*.⋆ʚ AMUSEMENT PARK CRUSHES!

with: atsumu, iwaizumi, kageyama

isabelle says: thank you sm for 100 followers it means the absolute world ahh!

ʚ ATSUMU

*.⋆ʚ lovable loser ‘tsumu, your fingers accidentally brush over his as you help tighten his seatbelt and he just… falls in love

*.⋆ʚ if there’s one thing this boy will never admit to, it’s defeat, so how scary can it really be?

*.⋆ʚ atsumu waits in line for the rollercoaster, ignoring the slight tremble in his hand in favour of placing a confident smirk on his lips

*.⋆ʚ he turns back to where osamu and suna stand outside of the line, laughing to themselves and watching him

*.⋆ʚ they know how much he hates these rides, which is exactly why they bet he wouldn’t go through with it and ask to get off at the last second

*.⋆ʚ with a look of pure determination he finally gets onto the ride and sits down, desperately trying to think of anything but his rapidly beating heart

*.⋆ʚ like a wish come true, you come into view wearing your uniform with ‘y/n’ embroidered into it

*.⋆ʚ it’s routine by now for you after doing it all summer, push the overhead restraints over the person’s shoulders, check the seat belt is tight enough and then move onto the next

*.⋆ʚ it’s not unusual for passengers to talk to you and you usually try to politely ignore them, but this blonde boy somehow catches your attention

*.⋆ʚ atsumu really can’t control what comes out of his mouth, his eyes watch your features intently, you’re the most attractive person he’s ever seen

*.⋆ʚ ‘are you gonna keep me safe angel?’ he grins up at you as you begin pulling down his safety barrier

*.⋆ʚ you roll your eyes at the pet name before slamming the restraint down with a little more force than necessary, making him wince a little

*.⋆ʚ ‘of course, that’s my job’ you add with a sickly sweet smile as if you didn’t just do that on purpose

*.⋆ʚ ‘how you wound me y/n’ he closes his eyes and wails as your hands reach out to tighten the final small seat belt in his lap

*.⋆ʚ at the same time his own hands reach down and your fingers lightly brush against them, his theatrics immediately replaced by a tinge of red on his cheeks and a shy smile

*.⋆ʚ you leave him with nothing but a small smile and a shake of your head, moving onto the other passengers before finally settling into your booth where you flip the rides switch, sending it off

*.⋆ʚ as the first set of carts begin their incline a voice calls out over the sound of the whirring wheels

*.⋆ʚ ‘you’re so pretty y/n’ and then he’s gone, drowned out by the excited screaming and leaving you with a stunned smile

*.⋆ʚ as soon as the ride is over and the restraints are released he rushes off and makes his way to the back of the rollercoaster’s line again

*.⋆ʚ ‘i can’t believe you actually did i- wait ‘tsumu where are you going?’ his brother asks confused ‘turns out i really like rollercoasters!’

*.⋆ʚ after a few minutes waiting he’s finally stood before you again ‘oh hi annoying man, i see you’re back’ you say as he leans back into his seat

*.⋆ʚ ‘did ya miss me?’

*.⋆ʚ ‘in your dreams, sweetheart’ you reply sarcastically to the blonde as you walk away

*.⋆ʚ once again you go to your booth and start up the ride, a loud ‘you will be in my dreams, i promise y/n’ trails behind the departing set of seats this time

*.⋆ʚ he does this another two more times, rushing past his brother and friend to rejoin the line and shamelessly flirt with you again

*.⋆ʚ ‘this is like your fifth time, aren’t you dizzy by now?’

*.⋆ʚ he has to admit the loops and twists are really starting to get to him, but he’ll never tell you that

*.⋆ʚ ‘yer making it sound like yer upset to see me’ he playfully pouts, you scoff at the boy but your fond eyes tell a different story, you guess he has some adoring qualities

*.⋆ʚ ‘my shift finishes in an hour, meet me here and no more rides until then i don’t want you sick!’

*.⋆ʚ atsumu feels the ride start up for the last time, throwing his hands in the air with a giddy smile ‘i got a date!’ he shouts before the machine takes him away

ʚ IWAIZUMI

*.⋆ʚ hajime just can’t help but think you look so cute sat next to him, he’s unsure if his heart is performing backflips because of the ride or because of you

*.⋆ʚ all he knows is that one second he’s walking onto the ride with oikawa in tow, and the next his bestfriend is being dragged away by some girl to sit with her instead

*.⋆ʚ he figures he might as well get off because he didn’t particularly want to go on in the first place, tōru was the one begging him to join him

*.⋆ʚ but as he turns to leave he’s instead escorted by a park employee to another seat

*.⋆ʚ then he sees you, already sitting in the seat next to his, gently biting your lip and holding tightly onto your seat belt

*.⋆ʚ his body almost goes on auto pilot and he sits next to you immediately, he just thinks you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen

*.⋆ʚ once he’s taken his place and the employee makes sure he’s secure, he turns to look at you but you’re already looking back at him

*.⋆ʚ you both share small slightly flustered smiles

*.⋆ʚ ‘are you nervous?’

*.⋆ʚ he kinda wants to kick himself why are those the first words he speaks to you

*.⋆ʚ you nod before adding ‘very, i came on here with my friend but she left me for some guy’

*.⋆ʚ iwa rolls his eyes, he knows exactly who this ‘some guy’ is, ‘same thing happened to me actually, i’m iwaizumi by the way’

*.⋆ʚ you open your mouth to reply but the conversation is cut short when the ride begins it’s ascent

*.⋆ʚ panic washes over you and your hand subconsciously hovers towards the cute boy you’re slowly finding comfort in

*.⋆ʚ a particularly scary loop sends your mind into a whirlwind and you don’t realise your next actions

*.⋆ʚ iwaizumi almost forgets about the ride entirely when your hand suddenly holds onto his forearm

*.⋆ʚ your eyes are shut tight in apprehension and he inexplicably finds himself truly hoping he’ll actually see you again after this experience

*.⋆ʚ he removes your hand carefully from his arm and instead laces your fingers with his

*.⋆ʚ at the action you open your eyes and look to him and he smiles warmly

*.⋆ʚ slowly he raises his arms, still holding your hand, and starts screaming in excitement like the rest of the rollercoaster riders

*.⋆ʚ you giggle at how ridiculous he looks and with your newfound confidence, you do the same and a feeling of exhilarating weightlessness overcomes you

*.⋆ʚ you both remain like this, childish grins accompanied by intertwined hands

*.⋆ʚ when the ride finally comes to a stop your heart is racing and your smile is wide, filled of adrenaline

*.⋆ʚ ‘i’m kind of glad my friend left me after all, iwaizumi’ you look up at him with sparkling eyes

*.⋆ʚ the boy almost can’t handle the way his heart flutters at the way you look at him ‘i’m glad my friend left me too…’

*.⋆ʚ ‘y/n’ you finish for him with heated cheeks

*.⋆ʚ as you both get out and walk to the exit he continues repeating your name in his head, in awe at how pretty it sounds

ʚ KAGEYAMA

*.⋆ʚ after the most intense battle of ring toss tobio has ever participated in, he finds himself feeling slightly giddy at the thought he might win more than just an oversized teddy bear today

*.⋆ʚ you don’t care how many tries it’s going to take you, you’re going home with that massive bear plushie if it’s the last thing you do

*.⋆ʚ surely you didn’t spend all that money on the already expensive entrance fee just to spend some more on rigged games?

*.⋆ʚ wrong, you absolutely did

*.⋆ʚ it’s during your fifteenth failed attempt at securing three rings around the colourfully painted poles that two boys walk over, bickering

*.⋆ʚ ever the two competitive idiots, kageyama and hinata spend the whole day at the park challenging each other in numerous funfair games

*.⋆ʚ they’ve done them all, ballon darts, the hammer strength test, the weird duck fishing one and so on, and now they find themselves in a tie, the only game left is the ring toss

*.⋆ʚ at first they wait patiently behind you for you to finish, but after every missed ring you pay a small amount of money and start again, your determination never wavering

*.⋆ʚ it’s after another four attempts that kageyama starts to grow tired and walks towards you to ever so kindly tell you to ‘hurry the hell up’

*.⋆ʚ but when he finally reaches where you stand and your soft eyes turn to his in question, the words on his tongue disappear

*.⋆ʚ the only thing that brings him back to reality is hinata laughing at his nervous state

*.⋆ʚ tobio composes himself and furrows his brows at you ‘can you stop taking so long we want to play too’

*.⋆ʚ his blunt words would have taken you aback but you can see how he carefully avoids your eyes so you smile to yourself

*.⋆ʚ ‘fine, how about you play against me’ you beam at him ‘i’m trying to win that bear up there’

*.⋆ʚ kageyama’s eyes snap to yours at your proposal, then looking back at shoyo who nods encouragingly

*.⋆ʚ ‘fine, but i guarantee i’ll win’

*.⋆ʚ you smirk playfully ‘mhm whatever you say!’

*.⋆ʚ you both play seriously for about three rounds before you both resort to slightly ‘creative’ tactics

*.⋆ʚ you begin to steal kageyama’s rings to which he starts ‘accidentally’ falling on you when you prepare to take your toss

*.⋆ʚ by the end you’re both giggling like children, a stark difference to the blunt and almost intimidating boy you met at the beginning

*.⋆ʚ tobio is down to his last ring and he’s honestly contemplating throwing it off course on purpose just so he can stay here having fun with you

*.⋆ʚ but then he gets a better idea

*.⋆ʚ he throws his last ring perfectly and smiles softly in triumph when the guy working the booth takes down and hands to him the giant teddy

*.⋆ʚ you can’t help but feel a little upset that you didn’t get your prize in the end, but you guess playing around with a cute boy was still very much worth it

*.⋆ʚ ‘i guess you weren’t kidding when you said you’d win, well it was nice playing with you!’

*.⋆ʚ you turn to leave but a hand holding onto your arm stops you from getting too far, ‘aren’t you going to take your bear?.. i kinda won it for you so it’d be rude if you didn’t don’t you think?’

*.⋆ʚ hearts practically swim in your eyes as you throw yourself at him and the stuffed animal ‘are you serious?’

*.⋆ʚ kageyama takes a slow second to react but he gently brings his arm to your waist and holds onto you

*.⋆ʚ ‘sure, as long as you agree to play dumb carnival games with me again as a thank you though’

*.⋆ʚ you pull back slightly whispering ‘i’d love to’

[muffindaddystyles]

22! angst to fluff pls love ur works <333

THANK YOU SM EVERYONE FOR REQUESTING HOPE YA'LL LIKE IT LOVE YAA !!!!!!

Harry hates one thing, most. That’s silence. Still, Y/N gave him a silent treatment knowing how much it drives him insane. It pinches him in throat in the most sickening way and makes him vicious about their fights more.

She has her reason too. Anyone would have a right to be mad if their boyfriend will be seen going to bars with models and cherry on top it turns out be his ex.

In his defence it was a PR stunt to keep the quietude about his dating life since Y/N and Harry’s relationship is private for Y/N's sake.

“You could’ve atleast told me, tha' you were going with her?” Was all she said. Confusion and insecurities and the images of her glued all over him mocked her in the most brutal way before she was distancing herself away from him.

He did anything in his will to bring her back to him, apologised and tried to shower her in kisses, making her brekkie and staying at home but she kept on pushing him away.

The problem wasn’t him. It was her. She blamed herself. He’s been nothing but so gentle with her and she’s towing him away like a used tissue.

Harry knew Y/N anxiety was always at bay and he didn’t want to worsen it by going public but it was biting him in arse as questions upon questions were thrown at him for past three years.

It's Saturday morning and she appears from the guest room after ages, the sight for sore eyes.

Harry’s eyes that were staring the tiled wall of kitchen flitters towards her and his gaze turns soft when he sees her drowned into one of his lilac sweater (she missed him so much and felt awfully hollow and cold sleeping in the bed that doesn’t smell like him at all; so she did what could comfort her best).

She looks so small and frail as if the demons of the lone bedroom swallowed her whole.

Heavy eyebags digging away the glimmer in her eyes, her cheekbones prominent and the pinkness of her eyes visible telling how much she’s been crying.

He turns expressionless on purpose when she meets his gaze and isn’t what she wanted? Some space to figure her thoughts out – but that polite gesture turned into a silent treatment from Harry’s side this time.

She knows that he’s more of a meanie in this game than her because he’s the one that never let things bottle up, his eyes gives away everything but right now they’re just murk of anger.

“Can we talk?” Her voice dim from crying for days and Harry elevates his shoulders carelessly, wrinkles on his forehead and his frown deep as he shrugs, “Dunno. Realized t’pick y'puppet back, your eminence?” His taunt hits her right in chest and she blinks the moisture in her eyes away looking down at her fingers fumbling with the frays of the hem.

He’s cloaked with sadness and dejection from her misbehaviour.

He’s the most petty when she’s the reason of his agony.

“I hate how much I care about, you.” He spats. Knuckles turning white from his grip around the marble counter and Y/N listens —— because good, she should now she’s out of her own bubble.

“How much I’ve told y'that no-one ‘n damn nothin’ could come between us —-" His tone dripping with malevolence and bitterness it tears Y/N up.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Harry!!” She almost shouts. Shaky fingers contemplating to rip at her hair and her tears now shines at her cheeks, Harry elicits a flak taunting chuckle.

“See you’ve never trusted our love. Can y'fo’ once get outta y’head?” His own eyes glossy and his cheeks flushing rosy from the impact.

“You don’t want to bear what comes with lovin' me, don’t want me to cover up tha’ fo' you and you couldn’t spend a single day without doubting us,” He licks the salt away from his lips and his heart pauses a slow beat when Y/N's lips wobbles -- incoherent blabbers slipping past her swollen lips.

“What d'ya want then!?” The loud snap of his abrasive voice hitches her breath and she sobs out sorrowfully, “I just want you.” He sighs in defeat. Not really pondering over the severity and nuance of his words before speaking.

“Falling in love with you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” That was the last blow for Y/N. She gasps out a cry. Pupils bursting wide and her insides falls sick as the itching goosebumps pin-prickles at her skin.

Everything gets struck for a moment. Harry’s expression matches her as he realizes what damage he has caused and to confirm it a blaring thunder roars through the sky.

Y/N gulps the achy feeling in her throat and just nods silently retreating back through the steps that led her to him and he’s rushing behind her in fret only to get the door to be slammed on his face.

He curses himself. Hitting his forehead into the door frame, that was the lowest and most cheapest fucking insult you could’ve managed to throw her way you dick.

“Y/N. I’m —-...fuck.” He knows that a sorry will be too humiliating for the hurt he has caused her.

While, Y/N sits on the floor at the most corner of the room with her knees bunched up to her chest. His hurtful words rings in her skull and she stuffs her face into her elbow sobbing into it watching the bear Harry won for her in a carnival with doleful blurry vision.

Through his whole life the only decision he regrets is loving me – out of every stupid thing he thinks our love is the most stupidest, what if it's the end? How I'll live without him? It’s impossible.

Forgetting hurts the more than grieving and she’d never be able to do that.

Her toes numbs to tingles and she feels herself drowning somewhere into pitch darkness, her heart lurching ruefully at each knock Harry taps on the door and her stomach burns with acidy sting lungs knotting tight making her gasp for oxygen.

Her panic attack crawling up her body in beasty blood curling gashes and she attempts to shout a plead for Harry but white dots appears at the back of her eyelids tripping her into mountain of floor pillows.

It knocks the vase out and it shatters beside her head, “Y/N! Baby!” Harry pounds at the door and when doesn’t hear a response from her side he’s kicking it open harshly.

The lock unhinges as he rushes inside worrisome and his world shatters when he sees his lovie struggling for a breather, her petite body trembling and shaking with each gasp that bolts her throat more and she nearly begs for him to do something.

He’s falling beside her on the floor and embracing her pliant figure in his gentle hold, “’S okay. ‘S okay.” He croaks out wiping his own tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

He rubs her tummy in soothing circles then trails his clammy palm up her chest and maintains an eye contact with her panicked ones. Her breath shudders when she tries to calm it back and her nails digs into his skin in doing so.

“Doing s'good f'me darling, yeah —-..yeah.” He bobs his head vigorously and assuring-ly stroking his thumb against her soaky cheek tenderly in pacifying motions.

Her breath lulls slowly back into a pattern and she jerks a little while inhaling a nourishing puff, “Take a breath honey, yes princess just like that.” He whispers speckling a tiny kiss to her forehead.

He pushes her up with a firm hand on her hip and into his lap murmuring sweet dottings into her ear, “Squeeze me hand if you could hear me baby.” He just wants to be reassured she’s doing okay –- his face crooked against her pulse point into her throat and she does so giving a weak squish to his fingers.

“Jeez.” He bumps her chin up with his head and touches their temples together – eskimo kissing her nose and her eyelids flutter when he pecks her mouth ever so lightly.

His insides are shaking anxiously from fright and he again hugs her warmly to feel her.

“’M sorry. So sorry lovie' didn’t –-.. didn’t mean to hurt ya, swear moppet was just upset tha’ y’were being so far from me. I love you so much precious ....." He presses his wet lips to the side of her head and buries his nose in her hair -- arms tightening around her waist.

".... and I don’t think lovin' you is stupid. Thinks tha’ ‘s the only best thing I’ve ever done in me life ... could never love anyone like that.” He mumbles cradling her sweaty face into his palms and patches soft kisses all over her face.

She hiccups a whimper. Nose quivering and lip wobbling — letting him kiss her pout and fists the flimsy fabric of his hoodie in her teensy hands compared to him, “’M sorry too. Sorry f'acting childish and not talking to you about it. I’m just scared I’m getting too obsessed with the idea of us and it’ll ruin us pathetically.”

“Wait. Wait woah baby ...” He grabs her gently with shoulders and pulls her back from him, “’S tha’ why you were trying to live off all by yourself?” He asks politely a bit glum she was enduring all of that herself.

When she tries to hide her face out of timidness he hooks his thumb under her chin and highers it up, “Y/N.”

“Thinks you love me so intensely?” She sniffs nodding in agreement and he smiles sweetly.

“Then fuckin' do it silly. Why d'ya think I wouldn’t want that lovlin? I want to be so loved by my sweet baby.” He almost falls back when she slings her arms around the nape of his neck and brings him down for a cuddle.

“I love you so much my Angel.” He murmurs with his face squished into her neck and fills his lungs with her warm vanillay scent.

She rubs her cheek up and down his chest like an affectionate starved puppy then stops where his heart lays under the trap of bones and kisses it three times.

Her love language. When she isn’t able to utter something she’s always appreciating him with loving actions and at the moment she did the same to exchange the sentiment.

Three kisses to heart means, “I love you so much it aches me.” He immediately catches it and pecks her nose.

"I know bub, I know."

[yeojaa]

( DEVIL IN A NEW SUIT. )

Money’s something that makes the world go around.  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with securing the bag.  You don’t shame anyone for doing what they need to do.  

That is, until you come face to face with the poor guy that’s being suckered out of both his heart and cash.  You simply can’t let it go on.

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.  idiots to lovers.  fluff, angst, smut.  the holy trifecta, babies!  explicit, obviously.  

tags / warnings.  mentions of infidelity, kook being adorable and sad, reader being a bit of a tactless butthole, a satin playsuit (very nsfw), kook does a 180, smut in the form of: a slight oral fixation, too much spit, overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (pls don’t be irresponsible).

wc.  12.2k of nonsense.  pure nonsense, i tells ya. 

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ did what she always does aka read through this and made me a better writer and @yeoldontknow​ dealt with my big dumbass and let me cry about my pea brain to her.  i love you both sm!!!  ✨💜

author note.  the long-awaited fic is here!!  i really hope you enjoy it.  if you do, please maybe leave a comment or something?  i swung back and forth between loving and hating this so it’d really, really mean a lot.  anyway, thanks as always for reading and i adore you!  stay safe and happy and healthy!

He’s a sucker.  That’s what you think of him, despite the fact you’ve never met him.  It’d be impossible not to, given what you’ve heard. 

His girlfriend - or something - is in every other week, flashing his black card like she has something to prove.  Sometimes, she’s by herself;  often, she’s with another gaggle of girls that fawn all over themselves and shriek a little too loudly for your taste.  They’re vapid, snooty in a way that makes you cringe every time they step into the boutique.  Still, you’re nice because this is your job and you have to be.  You can’t exactly tell a paying customer to get lost - even if you think it at least six times each visit. 

“He has no idea.”  It’s always the same thing, a story that pulls at your heartstrings yet has you scoffing in equal parts.  “I told him we were doing a girls’ trip but Hyunjin’s going to meet me on his way back and we’re spending the week at the Ritz.”

How can he possibly be this dumb, you wonder.  How can’t he see past the pretty pink lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair?  It isn’t even that nice of a colour job - too icy and reminiscent of Malibu Barbie. 

(She’d bragged about it once - how she’d gotten an appointment at one of the most coveted salons in the city, spending hours in the stylist’s chair to get this “perfect shade”.  Her words, not yours.)

You figure he must be some lonely schmuck, some poor old sap who can’t possibly get what he’s looking for anywhere else.  Maybe he had some weird spoiling kink - if so, where was your man like that - or he just wanted companionship and found it in the arms of girls who paid him any sort of attention.  Truthfully, you thought a lot of things about him.  Kind of had to, given how often his girlfriend was in, rambling about her exploits and snickering behind his back.

You’d never expected him to be like this.

Jeon Jungkook shows up on a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch and with the dopiest smile on his face. 

Your colleague notices him first, nudging you to attention because you, unlike her, actually do productive things while you’re at work like go through layaways and make sure items aren’t sitting in the back gathering dust.

“He’s cute,”  she very poorly whispers, voice carrying because it always does.  She’s a younger girl - maybe a few years your junior, who’d gotten her job through pure nepotism - but she’s sweet enough.  Zero tact, though.  Never notices when she’s being just a little too forceful with her sales but her sweet smile and full rack seem to keep her from getting into any trouble.  You consider her a vaguely annoying sister, someone you love even when you don’t necessarily like her.

You glance up from the iPad balanced in your hands, disinterested.  “Who?”

There’s an older couple striding past the entrance, hand-in-hand with three Hermes bags.  (God, what awful taste.)  There’s another couple standing at the mouth of the Louis Vuitton boutique, bickering about which belt will best match the boyfriend’s tux best.  (The answer is neither, because those belts do not belong with a classic black tux.)

“Him.”

Yejin all but points him out, jerking her chin in his direction.  You don’t know how you hadn’t really clocked him in the first place.  Maybe because he’s so unassuming that you’d just brushed over him, noting his outfit before moving on.  When you look at him - really look at him - you can’t look away.

You think he’s handsome in that off-kilter kind of way, too-big teeth and too-wide eyes.  He’s terribly innocent looking, despite the fact that he’s wearing a gleaming gold Rolex and sleek black boots you recognise from Prada’s 2019 RTW.  Everything he wears is tailored, fitting him to the point you wonder who his seamstress  is.  

But then he speaks, and it’s not the suave, sultry voice you’d expect.  It’s featherlight and almost shy, bashful in its delivery.  

“I’m here to pick up a bag for my girlfriend?”  He upspeaks.  It’s stupidly adorable.

Bless her soul, Yejin throws a glance in your direction first.  A silent ‘yours or mine?’ that’s answered when you step forward, blindingly bright customer service smile in full effect.  “What’s the item and the name it’s under?”  You keep in mind he’s said girlfriend very clearly, even as you can’t help but trail your stare over his shoulders, the dimple that digs itself into his cheek when he speaks again.

“Oh, it’s under mine.  Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” 

You’re floored.  This is Jeon Jungkook?  This specimen draped in leather and fine Japanese silk is the poor idiot wrapped around Barbie’s finger?  You’ve got to be kidding.

You wonder whether the surprise is evident on your face.  It must be, given how quickly Yejin interrupts, piping up in that saccharine sweet voice of hers.  “I’ll grab it!  The Box bag in cloud, right?”

Jungkook can only nod dumbly.  He has no idea what he’s there to pick up - only that he needs to because his girlfriend is away on a trip with her two best female friends.  He tells you as much, chuckling at his own ignorance.  It’d be cute if it weren’t so sad, his eyes twinkling like the jewels set in your ears.  There’s so much love in his eyes it’s frankly sickening.  

It comes before you can help it, snapping off your tongue - an oil spill ready to drag him to the depths of hell.

“Oh - you’re Kiko’s boyfriend?  I thought you’d left for Hong Kong already.”  Your head tilts - the picture of innocence as you continue to spew things you shouldn’t, staining the innocence of his expression with each word that drops off.  “She said she was leaving on Friday.”  Even while you’re tearing this poor man’s life apart, you’re racking your brain for the off-handed comments she’d made.  “She kept going on and on about how she was so excited to be staying at the Ritz.”

It’s almost like you gain some sick sort of satisfaction in watching his face fall.  You’ve never seen someone crumble so quickly, every ounce of affection swept up and spat out in the time it takes you to take a solid, proper breath.  

You do feel bad.  Not for saying it, but for being the person to do this.  For hurting this stranger.  (At least he knew?)

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”  Gone is the sunny friendliness, the blissful geniality.  He’s very much uncertain, bunny teeth digging into the full swell of his bottom lip.  He’s pigeon-toed and round-shouldered, thick brows drawn neatly over his stare as he focuses on some indeterminate point somewhere by his feet. 

If Yejin were on the floor with you, she’d tell you to knock it off.  Chastise you for getting involved in something you had no business being in.  (She’d be right, but you’ve always been an advocate for tough love.)  As it stands, she’s still in the back finding that stupid girl’s bag and you’re here, shaking your head, weakening Jungkook’s resolve with the edge of your teeth.  “No, she definitely said she was going away with her boyfriend.  Did you maybe give us the wrong name?”

Maybe if he weren’t so upset, he’d be more offended by the insinuation he’s stupid.  Instead, he only falters further, head mimicking yours.  Poor guy.

“I—I think there’s been a mistake.”

Yeah, you dating that gold-digger, you want to say.  Instead, you meet his stare like you haven’t just dug a thousand holes in his foundation.  “Oh, maybe.  I’m sorry.”  The apology is honest, even if the meaning behind it isn’t.  That’s a thing, right?  Apologising to make someone feel better, even when you don’t necessarily agree with it?  

God, you’re an altruist. 

“It’s fine.”  When he stutters, adorable lisp coming out to play, you know it’s not.  You applaud him for his brave face, even if it’s very poorly offered - a makeshift mask you think you could tear off with just another well-aimed word.  (You won’t.)

“Here it is!”  Yejin’s back, bouncing out from behind the counter with the giant white bag in her hands.  If she notices the atmosphere, she says nothing.  You remind yourself to tell her good job once Jungkook leaves - and you know he’ll leave the moment he’s got those silk handles in his hand.  He looks about ready to cry - or ready to fight, you’re not sure.

Once the purchase is passed over, he nods his head furiously and you swear you see a tear go flying.  You don’t have time to ask before he’s hoofing it out of the store.  

He doesn’t even notice he’s left his wallet on the counter.

By the time you snatch it up and round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found.  Probably because running in stilettos is next to impossible and he’s gotten an embarrassed head start.  Well then.

“I guess we’ll have to call him,”  you hum, turning the Prada bi-fold over and over in your hands.  It’s practically brand new, stuffed with large bills, his driver’s license, and few credit cards, including a Hyundai black card.  The same one on file that his girlfriend - maybe soon-to-be ex-girlfriend? - uses shamelessly.

Yejin’s watching you carefully, silently.  You’re counting down how long it’ll be until she asks - because you can see the curiosity swimming in her eyes, practically bulging her cheeks with the effort of keeping her questions caged behind her teeth.

Finally, after a good three minutes, she’s at your side, bony point of her chin digging a grave into your shoulder.  It’s probably not the most appropriate thing but she’s never much been one for decorum.  (You either, but still.) 

“So… what was that about?”

You don’t bother to turn when you speak, back to running through order details and matching them with customers.  “What?”

“You know— that!”  She waves her wrist in a circle, gesturing toward the space Jungkook had occupied not five minutes ago.  “He ran out of here like he was scared for his life.”

“Scared of the truth,”  you correct. 

You hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get more pale - she’s already fine porcelain, perpetually slathered in sunscreen - but she somehow does, balking at your response.  There it is. 

“What?”  There’s a reproachful edge to her words, an uncertainty that tells more than the single syllable. 

“What?”  It’s mimicry and a challenge all in one, meeting her stare from the corner of your periphery.  You can read every emotion that runs through her expression:  shock, displeasure, confusion.  

She retreats a step, bottom lip caught between her teeth.  (She really does remind you of your little sister.)  “So, you told him?”

You shrug, a noncommittal gesture that disrupts the curtain of silk that falls over your shoulder.  You hadn’t laid it out for him but surely he had an idea now.  There was no way he didn’t. 

“I pointed out a few conflicting facts.  That’s all.”  You’re not ashamed about what you’ve done.  You’d want to know if you were him.  Consider it an act of goodwill. 

The silence that meets your ears isn’t surprising but you don’t pay it any further mind.  What’s done is done.  Now he knows, or something close to it.  The chips would simply fall where they were meant to. 

You have to admit - you’re rooting for him. 

Whatever Yejin’s thinking, she keeps it to herself for the rest of the shift.  She knows better than to berate you about something like this, not that she would anyway.  Obnoxious as she can be, you have an understanding.  It strengthens your not-quite-close-friends-but-more-than-colleagues relationship. 

It’s only at the end of your shift that she brings it up again, drifting over to you as you complete your cash count for the evening. 

She holds Jungkook’s wallet in her hand, mouth pursed thoughtfully as she taps it against the edge of the counter.  “You have to call him.”

You almost lose your count, finishing with a pinched expression.  “Whoever works tomorrow morning can call him.”  You’re not brushing off the responsibility - you really could care less - but simply passing it along to the next person.  Sensible. 

As it turns out, you’re the person who works the next morning, called in because another associate has come down with a cold.  

You’re two lattes deep when you remember the wallet, tucked neatly behind the counter with a yellow sticky note posted to the front.  You suppose it’s your responsibility now.  You know if Yejin comes in tomorrow and sees it, she’ll give you her childish brand of hell. 

The line rings twice before it picks up, that oddly familiar voice crackling through the speaker.  “Hello?”

“Jungkook?”  

There’s a beat of silence followed by a careful confirmation. “Yes, that’s me?”  Upspeaking again. How cute. 

“I’m calling from the CELINE boutique.”  You can practically imagine the look on his face, eyes as wide as saucers as he recalls the awful-to-him encounter.  “You left your wallet here and I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

“O-oh, uh—“  It’s like encountering a baby bunny - or deer or something equally adorable and vulnerable.  “Thanks.  I didn’t even notice.  Um, I can come pick it up today?”  There’s another pause, the sound of fingers over a screen, and then he’s back.  “Is that okay?”

Leave it to him to have lost his wallet and yet be worried about putting someone else out.  He truly was a sucker. 

“That’s fine.  We’re open until six tonight.”  

“I’ll be there before dinner.”  As if realizing how vague that is, he continues, words running headlong into each other like he can’t get them out fast enough.  “Before six, I mean.  Um, is around five-thirty okay?” 

You want to tell him to just come whenever, that it really doesn’t matter to you, but that probably isn’t going to help the situation.  Instead, you hum a quiet sound of confirmation.  “Of course.  We’ll see you then.” 

He hangs up immediately. 

The second time you meet Jeon Jungkook, he’s just as endearing as the last.  It’s actually surprising, if you’re being honest.  You’d thought he’d be resentful or mean or any other emotion better fitting someone whose entire world had turned upside-down.

As it stands, he’s just the right-side of anxious, a hundred little sparks of uncertainty flaring beneath his skin and lighting him up in neon.  You can see him from a mile away he’s lit up so bright, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.

Your heart aches for him - and then it skips, almost trips over its own two feet when he wanders into the store with his hands dug deep into the pocket of his pants.

How he looks tonight is nothing like how he’d looked yesterday.  Somehow, you like it more.  The undone head-to-toe Balenciaga, the unruly curl of his dark hair.  It’s effortlessly chic - though you think it might have something to do with the fact that he’s just an attractive person.  (Good-looking people could get away with anything - even god-awful fashion faux pas.)

At the sight of you, he seems to further lose steam, eyes widening to such an extent you briefly worry for him.  Surely they’ll fall out of their sockets one day.  

“O-oh.  It’s you.”  The moment the words come, he’s blushing the colour of your red-soled shoes, horrified.  “I m-mean, just—”  He takes a deep breath, finds his footing and tries again.  “You’re the girl that helped me yesterday.”  Spoken like you, the exact girl who helped him yesterday, wouldn’t remember that fact yourself.  

“That’s right,”  you say evenly, expression neutral.  It’s almost as if that surprises him more - as if he’d expected you to shy away from the knowledge.  

The two of you stare at each other for longer than is strictly speaking necessary.  Well, you stare at him and he kind of bounces his eyes around the room.  You know he can’t be that interested in the croc stamp Belt bag behind your head or the selection of small leather goods in the glass case.  

He’s so awkward.

(You did kind of ruin his day though, so you can’t blame him.)

“So, um, my wallet?”  He’s made barely any headway, still lingering awkwardly by the front of the store.  You can’t help your smile - it’s more of a smirk - as you raise the item in question.  

“Right here.”

Jungkook glances from it to your face, then back again.  He makes the same trip twice more.  “Can I have it?”  To your surprise, he’s taken two whole steps toward you, brow furrowed.  He’s still terribly soft, rounded edges and innocent eyes, but he’s making progress.  Good job, you think.

“Of course.”  You mirror him, moving out from behind the counter.  Somehow, that’s not the right move, because his features are breaking and rearranging, big bunny teeth worrying a hole straight through his bottom lip.  You’d think he’d be more confident, more demanding, more… everything.  (You quite like that he isn’t - a complete anomaly - but you also imagine it’s also to his detriment.  Too much honey, not enough vinegar.)

This time, he closes the distance with three long strides.  It hadn’t escaped you how tall he was, the length of his gait - after all, you’d tried to run after him - but you’re still a little surprised when he’s in front of you, not a foot away, arm extended.  Palm out, he asks again, all while refusing eye contact.  “May I have it, please?” 

You hand it over with a soft laugh, pressing the grained leather into his hand.  You expect him to retreat immediately and he does - but then he turns and his expression is inscrutable.  Is he going to say thank you?  Berate you for what you’d done yesterday?

Neither, it seems.  “Why did you do it?”  There’s no anger, just an abiding sadness that laces his words, turns them the saddest shade of blue.

“Do it?”  You know what he means.  You ask anyway.

“Why did you tell me?”  Jungkook’s doing that thing again, alternating between biting his tongue and chewing his cheek as he stares at you.  You can practically see the melancholy rolling off him;  it shines dark on the depths of his irises, how his fist trembles just barely at his side.  For all his good looks and leisurely charm, you can see the effort it takes to hold himself together now.

Guilt ascends, starts somewhere deep in your stomach and turns stomach acid to butterflies.  It creeps higher and higher over your spine, locking each vertebrae until you’re immobile, unable to tear your gaze from his.  “I thought you deserved to know.”

“But why?” 

“What do you mean?”  

It’s almost comical, how both your expressions descend into bewilderment - like looking into a fun house mirror.  He’s trying to wrap his mind around your actions and you’re just trying to make sense of his confusion.  

You anticipate a response - can see it tittering on the tip of his tongue - but he seems to think better of it, shaking his head.  It dislodges a wayward curl from behind his ear, silver twinkling with the movement.  

“Thank you” is all he offers before speed-walking away.

You don’t expect to see Jeon Jungkook for a third time.  

He’s waiting for you when you end your shift on Thursday, standing somewhere between the two boutiques, loitering like some kind of gremlin.  (Except he’s dressed exceptionally well, slick black jeans and a Balenciaga tee shirt that rivals the cost of your shoes.  Of course he’d get away with hanging out in the store without being told off.)

“Excuse me.”  For once, he doesn’t sutter.  The lisp doesn’t present itself, either.  Was this the same Jungkook?  You’re not sure until you meet his stare - or try, his own skipping away the moment you make contact.

There he is.

“Yes, Jungkook?”  He flinches, as if he isn’t expecting you to know or say his name.  How can someone so big, so broad across the shoulders with a face that belongs on billboards, look like such a terrified rabbit?  It makes no sense to you.

“Can we talk?”  The stare he levels you with is unfair, too sweet and coaxing for you to even consider saying no.  You’ll still mess with him a bit though.

“We are talking.”

He sputters at that, hacks out a cough that makes you snicker openly.  It’s just so easy with him, like taking candy from a baby.  

“I mean like— talk talk.”  The set of his jaw gives away the whisper of frustration, the fleeting touch of exasperation that doesn’t allow itself to live anywhere else.  His eyes are still soft, round and glossy beneath the fluorescent storelight.  

“Sure, we can talk talk.”  

“Did you, um, want to grab dinner?”

You don’t mean to mock him (at least, not really) but he just makes everything so easy. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way.  “Are you asking me on a date?”  

“W-what?  No!”  Despite the immediacy of his response - the look of utter shock that cracks the careful facade - he’s burning bright, cheeks aflame with colour that licks up and over his ears.  “I just— I thought you’d want to talk somewhere else—”

“I’m kidding.  Let’s go.”

You move first, stepping past him and onto the elevator without a backwards glance.  He scampers after you, trails like a lost puppy in the wake of your shadow.  Even while you stand in the corner, waiting for the lift to meet the main floor, he keeps a careful distance, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.  

“So, what do you want to talk about?”  It seems you have to take the initiative, throwing him a curious stare as the floor number ticks down.  His gaze is trained on neon digits, unmoving.  You repeat yourself, glancing up at him, half-tempted to nudge him out of his reverie.  It’s almost like talking to a really hot brick wall.  “Jungkook?”

He tears out of his thoughts like a wayward bullet, head swivelling wildly.  “Huh?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  

“Um—”  He hesitates, not as if he doesn’t know the answer, but rather that he’s hesitant to speak it into existence.  There’s a tidal wave in the depth of his stare, a cresting wave that looks on the edge of breaking.  “—m-me?”

Brows furrow then amusement spills out.  “You want to talk about… you?”  

“That sounds bad.”  The shape of his grow prominent over his bottom lip, his mouth pulling and pursing with whatever maelstrom exists inside that pretty skull of his.  

“It’s fine.  We’ll talk at dinner.”  

He nods.  You think it means thank you.

Sitting across from each other in the Michelin-starred restaurant - a sought after spot that takes reservations weeks in advance - it’s easy to imagine Jungkook is just another guy.  Another bachelor with too much money and not enough sense, eager to sink his teeth into his next victim.  

It’s hilarious how far that is from the truth.

“What did you want to eat?”  He’s speaking into the pages of the leatherbound menu, half his face hidden.  Whether it’s a defense mechanism or just how he woos pretty girls, you’re not sure.  (You have a feeling it’s the former.)

“Whatever.”  Everything here is incredible.  You really don’t mind.

Jungkook’s face falls, folds in on itself like wet paper and you sigh a sound that further breaks apart the pillars keeping his composure in place.  His right cheek is hollowed, interior being shredded by enamel.  You take pity on him then, flipping open the menu with a great flourish. 

When the waitress - a lovely little thing whose gaze lingers on your dining partner for too long to just be polite - comes to take your order, you rattle off your usual order, doubling certain selections.  Soft-spoken as he might be, you have a feeling the size of his stomach makes up for all the mumbling and half-hearted glances.

“So?”  You level him with a stare over the rim of your glass, lavender and lemonade bursting across your tongue.  

He echoes you, wide-eyed and Bambi-like and stupidly cute.  “So?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  If you’d had a worse day, if you were a lesser person, you might be irritated by having to repeat yourself so often.  As it stands, you’re only curious, your inquisitive nature outweighing your naturally short temper. 

“Oh.”  Poor boy looks like he’s been asked an impossible question, like what’s the meaning of life or the secret to eternal youth.  He fumbles with the edge of his sleeve, turns the plaid over and over in his fingers as if it were a puzzle.  You stare at him the whole time, unflinching, unrelenting.  He’d asked you here so you damn well expect an answer.

You’re about ready to repeat yourself - fourth time’s the charm? - when he finally finds his voice.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

It’s not the answer you’d expected.  It whacks you in the face, smacking your usual confidence out of place and shooting your carefully threaded eyebrows into your hairline.  “What?” 

He’s terribly uncomfortable, unhappy with being on the spot.  You watch the flicker of emotions through his face, the ones that creep into the delicate skin beneath his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip.  Try as he might, he can’t keep the light from his eyes - twinkling stars that bloom like newly minted stars.

“Thank you.”  It’s just that much harder when he repeats himself, edges he builds with his bare hands and a clearing of his throat.

You’re silent for a long while - long enough for the first few plates to be set before you.  You gather up shredded radish and perfectly charred beef with your chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully on the morsel.  Jungkook doesn’t move - doesn’t even reach for his chopsticks - and simply stares at you.  You might find it off-putting if it were anyone but him.

You get through half the bowl of green beans, well on your way to finishing it, when he finally begins eating, deftly transferring little bites to his bowl.

The only sound is crunching - king oyster mushroom tempura, ice from your cocktail - and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it’s not uncomfortable.  A little different, sure, but altogether nice.  Like dining with an old friend.

You finally answer when half the plates are gone, another three laid out in their wake.  You’re careful not to speak with your mouth open - you notice Jungkook doesn’t either - and take a long sip of your water.  “You’re welcome, I guess.”  

Something tells you you’re always surprising him - whether intentionally or not.  His eyebrows have a tendency to shoot up, making him look even more shocked than he normally does.  (Seriously, how big are his eyes?)  You find that funny but don’t comment on it, opting to pop a silken piece of black cod into your mouth.  Your stare never falters, trained on his face as you chew thoughtfully.

“What?”  He’s had enough of your quiet observation, apples of his cheeks reminiscent of the tree in your parents’ backyard.  

“What?”  You parrot back, shameless, dark eyes twinkling at him.

“Y-you’re staring at me.”  

“You’re sitting in front of me.”

The line of his mouth hardens then, tongue rolling against his cheek in a gesture that stands out.  It’s the first glimpse of something rude, something not doe-eyed and innocent.  Oh?

“You don’t have to stare.”  Said with a speared piece of sashimi, the end of his chopsticks assaulting the poor piece of bluefin tuna like it has personally offended him.  

You reach for the same place, knock ornate wood against his, and quirk a brow when he meets your stare.  “Does it bother you, Mr. Jeon?”  The inflection is drawn out, almost mocking, only softened by the smile you offer.  

“That’s not my name.”  The bite disappears past his teeth.  You expect him to continue three chews later but he only goes for another, filling his plate and then his mouth.

“Sorry— Jungkook.  Does my staring bother you?”

It feels a little like playing with fire - holding your hand too close to a flickering flame, curious what it’ll do.  Juvenile in a way but enticing in another.  You’ve never met anyone quite like Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s rude,”  he reasons, glossy eyes meeting yours for perhaps the fifth time that evening.

“Maybe I’m just rude.”

He shakes his head then - dislodges untamed strands from behind his silver-lined ears - and sets his chopsticks down.  (Perfectly matched up, propped against the provided rest.)  “You’re not.”

You can’t keep the surprise away, the emotion threading through your brows to tie them into a little knot of consternation.  He says it so readily, as if he knows you and this isn’t one of a handful of very short, very unexpected conversations.  He’s not even looking away, meeting your stare with a confidence that surprises you.  

It lasts for all of five more seconds before he clears his throat and sips at his tea.  Anything to busy his hands, you think.

“You don’t know that,”  you finally return, after what seems like too long.

“I do.”  He nods - almost to himself - and continues, matter-of-fact.  “You care about people.  You’re… hard around the edges but you don’t mean to hurt anyone.  You want to do what’s right.  Sometimes it means you have to do things that aren’t easy.”

For once, you’re at a loss for words.  Really and truly silenced, unable to articulate anything that might beat back the kindness he’s offering.  

How the tables have turned.

He likes waffles with chocolate syrup rather than honey.  He doesn’t like whipped cream or citrus-flavoured desserts.  He has a tailor he’s gone to since he was a child, the same elderly woman he sometimes calls halmoni because she’s watched him grow up.  He decorates his apartment with the most random things:  limited edition KAWs figurines and the guitars he still hasn’t had the most practice with, one of a kind paintings from the gallery one of his best friends curates.  He buys the most expensive bottles of wine at any given restaurant not because his palate is so evolved it matters, but because it’s what he’s been taught to do.

He’s been in four serious relationships in his twenty-five years.  All of them have ended poorly, though his latest with Malibu Barbie is the first where he’d been cheated on.  (Somehow, you doubt that but you don’t voice this disbelief.)  He tends to lean towards long-term relationships with women who baby him (your words, not his).  He scoffs when you call him a serial monogamist, insists he isn’t even as you list out all the facts pointing otherwise.

“I just… don’t like wasting my time,”  he insists from behind his coffee cup.  

“You mean you don’t like the potential to be hurt.”  

Jungkook blinks at you then, Bambi eyes so big and bright you almost want to laugh.  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”  He seems confused - as if his reasoning is solid, irrefutable. 

“High risk, high reward, Jungkookie.”  It’s something your father had taught you years ago, the crazy old sap.  It’s probably why he’s had three divorces since you were seven years old, but you suppose it’s worked out for him now.  He’s been happily married for the last ten years - the longest relationship he’s ever had.  Youngin is good for him, though.  You like her - even if you sometimes wish she weren’t young enough to be your older sister and not his wife.

“You say that a lot.”

“I mean it when I say it.”

He’s quiet then, shoving a corner of his croissant past his lips.  When he speaks - starts to, anyway - his mouth is still full and you level him with a look that silences him until all traces of the pastry are gone.  “Girls are scary.”

You laugh.  Cackle, really.  You can’t help it.  He says it with a pout, the expression so utterly at odds with the offensively revealing shirt he wears, the smooth unblemished skin of his chest almost too much for such a quiet afternoon.  He glares at you across the table, shoves another piece of the flaky golden treat into his mouth, and waits for you to speak.  He knows you’re going to give him a piece of your mind because you always do, rebuffing 99% of the things he says.  (Sometimes for fun, often with good intentions.)

“Heights are scary.  Death is scary.  Leaving your wallet at home when you’re low on gas is scary—”

“Don’t you have Apple Pa—”

“Don’t interrupt.”  He clamps his lips shut, folding his arms across his chest.  From anyone else, it’d be a defensive gesture;  from him, it’s patient.  “Girls aren’t scary.  Having real feelings for people is scary, but that doesn’t mean you should just stay with people who don’t deserve you.” 

“Not all of us have cheater-sniffing noses.”  

You suppose he’s right but the fact still remains that he’s too nice for his own good.  Too trusting, too lenient, too blind to all the red flags.  Like he’s living life in greyscale. 

“Well, that’s what you have me for.”

The look Jungkook gives you then is incredulous, screwing his pretty face up as if he’s about to sneeze.  Instead, he laughs.  “I’m not hopeless.”

“Oh, but you are.”  You’re adamant, insistent.  He’s more comfortable with you now - sometimes teases you in a way you’d never have expected weeks ago - but he’s still so soft.  An absolute marshmallow dressed in designer duds, a heart of gold wrapped up in a bubble gum package.  

You want to protect him, teach him to fly.  Be his wingwoman until he’s soaring the skies on his own.  

You know it’s not his pride that keeps him from saying yes.  He doesn’t have an abundance of that, far too gracious to ever deny help when he really needs it.  He’s just shy, doesn’t know what he wants until it’s staring him right in the face.  

“Fine,”  he agrees after you’ve stared at him for too long.  It’s one of his weaknesses - his inability to handle attention when it’s laser-focused.  It makes him sweat, prompts his nervous habit of chewing at his bottom lip, long fingers picking at the peach fuzz on his cheeks.

“You won’t regret it.”

Jeon Jungkook has gone on six dates over the last ten days.  You know, because you’ve helped him pick out outfits for each of them, seated at the edge of his bed with your knees folded and a bag of white cheddar popcorn in your grubby little paws.

It’s not that he isn’t stylish - you both know he is - but there’s a certain finesse to dressing for dates, to knowing the likes and dislikes of your potential partner and playing to those.  

He, to no one's surprise, does not have this finesse.  If it were up to him, he’d wear his favourite clothes every day, different jeans and joggers in medium-wash denim and impossibly soft cotton.  He’d swap his Balenciaga separates in and out and stick with the finely tailored Gucci suit he calls his lucky ticket (ew).  He’d live in those stupid two-toned sneakers and barely do his hair, allowing it to become a powder puff reminiscent of old Hollywood movies.

The girls would probably still love it.  (It’s easy to love him.)

“What do you think?”  It’s low-cut black, relaxed in the shoulders and flattering in the torso.  It holds him just right, hugging the muscle that threads across his shoulders like armour, coils around his upper arms and makes his tattoos stand in stark relief where the sleeves end, mid-forearm. 

It looks good— but then again, a lot of things look good on him.  He wants great.

You answer honestly, because that’s what you do and that’s what he has you there for.  To knock him down when his (admittedly small) ego gets a little too big, remind him of his hubris like the summer sun upon his candle wax wings.  “Not bad…”

You don’t even need to finish the thought for him to be tugging the shirt over his head, back flexed, ink-strewn fingers gripping the hem.  

Not for the first time, you’re reminded of just how unfair life is. 

How had Jungkook - bona fide dork, certifiable shy guy - been gifted one of the best bodies in human existence?  (You wish you were joking.)  It was utterly absurd, a complete waste on someone who’d only learnt to utilise his good looks in the last five months you’d known him.  

“This one?”  He’s grabbing another hanger, all but thrusting it into your face.  Medium-weight cashmere.  Probably too hot for a night like tonight but you’ve seen it on him before and it hugs him like a lover, displaying his best assets (titties) and drawing attention to the narrow shape of his waist.  It’s the equivalent of a little black dress.

“Look at you go,”  you tease, mouth full of mirth and popcorn kernels.  “Throw that Juun.J trench you have overtop and you’ll be set.”

Jungkook nods sagely, as if your word is law.  You suppose it is.

“Thanks, ____,.”  He says it in that sweet way of his, eyes lost to the weight of his gratitude.  

Your response is a shrug.  “Bring me back some dessert and we’ll be even.”  You don’t know where he’s going tonight but you figure it’s one of the many restaurants you’d recommended earlier in the week when he’d started lining up his various dates.  You know there’ll be something good on the menu.  

He promises he will as he slides the turtleneck on, tucking it into the dark trousers he’d picked up days ago, and redoes the slim black Rag & Bone belt around his waist.  You have to admit - you’ve done another great job of styling him.  Simple yet painstakingly attractive, playing at all the little bits of Jungkook’s best qualities without outlining them in bright red ink.  Understated but elegant, effortless yet seriously hot.  

Maybe you should quit your day job and become the female Hitch.  That was a viable plan, right?

You’re mulling it over when you realise your walking Ken doll is making toward his bedroom door, wallet clasped in one hand and phone in the other.  “Hey!  You’re leaving already?”  It’s polite surprise that colours your words, stare drawn to the screen of your iPhone.  It’s only 6 PM and the reservation isn’t for another hour.

There’s a sheepish look creeping over his features, painting itself in delicate strokes that you spy past the line of his smile, how the skin crinkles around his eyes.  For a moment, he’s the shy Jungkook you’d met in your store and not the one that now bleeds careful confidence, filling his little black book (read: phone contacts) with names as easily as he breathes.  “I was, uh, going to stop and get f-flowers.”  A silver-lined hand scrubs across his nape, dislodges the carefully styled waves he’s settled for.

Flowers, huh?  Well, that’s certainly something new.  Good for him, you think. 

“Jeon Jungkook, going all out.”  It’s heavy on the teasing, playful mockery lending a warmth to your words.  “She’s special.”

Which you’d figured, given he was seeing her.  Repeats were rare for him now that he’d learned how to weed out the bad seeds, held his hand a little closer to his heart (at least, sometimes).  Since he’d started dating again, this would be the first time he’d be going on a second date.  It’s a big deal. 

“Yeah—“  Nervousness sparks across his face, lights up his stare like the stars in the night sky.  “I guess she is.”

You smile fondly, like a proud mother.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”  

“I will,”  he promises, looking so giddy it makes your heart swell ten sizes.  

You don’t even think anything of it as you follow him out of his room, bag of popcorn neatly rolled under your arm and your socks slid back into place.  It’s only when he levels you with a strange stare, pauses in the shrugging on of his coat, that you return his look.  “What?”

“Where are you going?”

“Leaving?”  

“Why?”

Wasn’t that the million dollar question?  

You don’t normally leave, usually waiting here at home for him until he returns to give you a rundown of his date (and the promised appetizer/dessert/whatever).  It feels somehow wrong to stay, though, as if you’re taking up space that doesn’t belong to you.  He’s going on a second date, after all.  Soon enough, he won’t need your help picking out clothes or deciding on a restaurant.  You won’t get to curl up on your usual corner of his sectional, wrapped up in the obnoxiously soft blanket you’d convinced him to buy one night while online shopping.

But it’s fine.  Totally, one hundred and ten percent fine.  The two of you are friends.  You’d always expected - anticipated, hoped - this day would come.  Baby boy was growing up. 

“Y’know.”  You answer a second too late and he’s still wearing that odd expression, handsome face flooded with something that looks like disappointment.  It flickers in the bits of his stare you can make out past his fringe, partially concealed by the dark silk that you know feels as soft as it looks.

“I know?”  He never tries to read your mind - knows it’s utterly useless.  

You wiggle your hand dismissively.  “Second date and all that.”  

Jungkook giggles - the same deceptively sweet sound he always makes - and finishes tugging his jacket on.  It fits him so well it should be illegal, falling to his knees and ending just shy of the intricate laces of his boots.  “Just stick around.  I’ll drive you home when I get back.”

It’s something he always does - his way of saying thank you for putting up with all of his first date jitters, his outfit changes, his worrying over how to first approach a girl on Tinder - so you don’t doubt him.  “Fine.  I’ll stay.”

He beams, caught halfway out the door.  “Tell me to break a leg.”

“Go break her back,”  you retort to the sound of his laughter.

You’re almost asleep when your phone starts going off, the vibrations jolting you awake.  It rattles across the glass table, won’t shut the hell up until you’re slamming your hand atop it, glaring at the screen as it lights up with notifications.

It’s almost 2 AM and they’re from Jungkook.  This can only mean one thing.

from jeon jungkook:  Hey. from jeon jungkook:  I’m really sorry but I won’t be home tonight. from jeon jungkook:  If you want to stay over, I can drive you back in the morning. from jeon jungkook:  Please don’t be mad.

Leave it to him to apologise for getting his dick wet - to feel bad about having a successful second date.  It makes you laugh as you stare down at the texts, tap a quick response you know will have his heart racing.  (Even after months of friendship, it’s hard not to tease him just a little bit.)

to jeon jungkook:  i officially hate you

The typing notification gives him away immediately, but the moment you do the same, he stops.  Of course.  He hates confrontation - would rather leap off a cliff-face than deal with negative emotions.  (He’d told you that once, over a night of beer and fried tteok.)

to jeon jungkook:  it’s fine!  have fun! to jeon jungkook:  turn her world upside down 😏

He doesn’t answer after that but the read receipt pops up.  Good, you think.  About time he finds someone nice.  You wonder what she’ll be like when you meet her.  

Jungkook’s third date comes with another third - you.

He drags you along to dinner, insisting there’s nothing at all weird about the fact.  He has to repeat it at least four times during the drive there, head nodding like a plastic bobblehead as he weaves in and out of traffic. 

“I want you to meet her,”  he mumbles, like that makes it better.  As if bringing a friend along to a date with that reasoning means it’s totally acceptable and not on the list of Hard No’s When Dating.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?”  He’s too focused on changing lanes to answer you, signalling before seamlessly drifting over.  (He’s an impressively responsible driver, but that’s unsurprising.)  You repeat yourself.

“It’s not… weird.”  But you have a feeling that he knows how odd the request is.  Knows and doesn’t care, unfortunately.  “She wants to meet you too.”

(When had Jungkook turned into this person who argued with you?)

You somehow highly doubt that.  No girl in her right mind would leap at the chance to meet her potential beau’s wingwoman.  It’s something reserved for official status, when the foundation is set.  Still, you play into his hand, level him with a stare he should recognise.  It’s the one you throw his way any time he’s too nice, gives a mile when he shouldn’t even offer an inch.  (It doesn’t come as often anymore, but it still makes appearances once in a while.)  

“What does she even know about me?”

“That we’re friends.”  His vague response speaks volumes.  The look changes - grows into a glare that has him furtively peeking at you from the corner of his periphery.  When he speaks, it feels like a dead giveaway.  “That I really value your opinion.”

You groan, a noise so loud it rattles around in the car and interrupts the ballad playing through the speakers.

“She’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or not!”  Of course.  It’s obvious.  She wants to know what she’s getting into it before things get too serious, determine if her Prince Charming is really all that.  (He is.)  “I’m not coming to dinner.”  

“You’re already in the car,”  he reasons.  

You note he doesn’t deny your first statement, mouth rounding into a pout that should crush your resolve.  Instead, it drives you mad, irritation bubbling in your throat.

“I just won’t go in.”

“____,.”  When he says it like that, it’s hard to deny him.  Jungkook might not utilise his charms often but when he does, it’s lethal.  Undeniable with those dumb Bambi eyes of his.

“No.”

“____,,”  he repeats, almost pleading.  You can’t look at him.  You won’t.  The moment you do, you’ll be sucked into the swirling vortex that makes up his stare - a million pretty little lights caught in the brown of his iris, so many possibilities you’d lose yourself trying to explore them all.

You last a whole ten seconds before his staring becomes too much, those round eyes tracking you in the rearview mirror until you’re relenting, softening in the way that only he can cause. 

“Fine.”  You hate how it sounds rolling off your tongue, terse and a little pissed off.  You’re not actually mad.  Just worried.  You’ve seen situations like this play out - not that you’ve been in this position before - but female friends and potential girlfriends just don’t go hand-in-hand.  It takes a very special kind of person to facilitate a meeting this early and you are not that person.  You’re ragged edges, uneven temperament, distrust that you can’t help.

Jungkook knows that.  Should, anyway.  You’ve grown close over the last nearly half a year.  

When he mumbles a quiet sorry, turns to rest his chin against his knuckles as he drives, you know he means it.  He’d never put you in this position if it didn’t mean a lot to him - if his own happiness wasn’t somehow also on the line.  (Truthfully, it’s your fault.  All that self-love encouragement was coming back to bite you in the ass.)

You grumble an obligatory acceptance as the streetlights fly by.  You’ve got a reputation to uphold. 

“You’re paying for my dinner.”

“Of course.”

How many times have you pictured this same situation, watched it unfold on your television screen as the protagonist gasps wildly, hand at their throat?  How many times have you laughed at the exchange, snickering into your palm as the romantic interest makes some wild declaration of love and wins the protagonist’s heart?

Answer:  you’ve lost count.

Still, it doesn’t prepare you to be thrust beneath the spotlight, half-dreaming and terribly confused.  

“What’re you doing here?”  At any other time, it might be as reproachful as you want, full of disapproval and sleepiness.  Here and now, it’s slurred speech and the lines of your pillow dug into the softness of your cheek, lashes dusted with sleep and breath freshly minted.

Jungkook’s oddly surprised, considering he’s appeared unannounced at your doorstep at the crack of dawn (not really).  “C-can I come in?”

You don’t budge.  It’s not because you’re about to say no, but because you’re still really tired.  So tired you stare at him for a moment too long, zoning out as you drink in his appearance.  He’s wearing the clothes from last night - the same animal-print silk shirt that hangs obscenely low and reveals too much skin.  You recognise it because you’d picked it out for his date.  

(The one where he was supposed to ask Jiwon to be his girlfriend, you fail to note.)  

You repeat yourself around a yawn, ignoring the way your vowels crash into each other and barely make it to the light of day.  “What’re you doing, Jungkookie?”

“Please let me in,”  the doe-eyed prince at your door mumbles, gaze bouncing somewhere beyond your shoulder, over your face, to the wayward strands that’re the result of sleeping too well.  Everywhere but your eyes.

“Fine,”  you huff, stepping back to allow him over the threshold.  You don’t miss the way he smells - his signature cologne and something else.  If you had to guess, it’s her perfume.  It’s distinctly floral, drawing you into a garden of roses.  You don’t know if you like it.

Without a second glance, you’re shuffling away from him, dragging your slippered feet into the kitchen.  

You move on autopilot, spooning coffee grounds into the Chemex filter.  You don’t bother asking whether your surprise guest wants any - assume he does, because the fiend somehow lives on caffeine - and settle against the counter as you wait for your kettle to whistle.

You’re still so tired you feel like you might fall asleep standing up but you think you do a good enough job of levelling Jungkook with a solid stare.  “So?”

“W-what?”  

It’s been so long since you’ve last heard his stutter that it surprises you, recentres your attention from your own exhaustion and has you frowning.  Something’s happened.  Must have.  There’s no other explanation for it - for how he looks at you, so uncertain like all those months ago when you’d smashed his glass house to pieces.

“What’s going on?”  You’re demanding, full to the brim with concern as you round on him.  He flinches away as if your words have burnt him, leaning into the stainless steel side of your fridge.  

(Silly Jungkook - that won’t protect you.)

“What do you mean?”

The early hour has, luckily, dampened your usual aggression.  He’s stalling, you can tell.  You hate when he does this.  You tell him as much, glowering at him as he tries to shrink his nearly six foot frame into something small.  “You’ve showed up at my house unannounced.  What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?”

He looks as if he’s on the brink of repeating himself, biting it back behind his neat white teeth when your expression grows darker, more frustrated.

It’s impossible to stay dressed in red, lethargy swathing you up like a cocoon and softening your edges.  You sigh heavily - perhaps a little overdramatically - and go about completing your coffee ritual.  Patience works best with Jungkook, you’ve learned.  (Though, he sorely tests your own sometimes.)

With a steaming mug in your hand and the other passed over to him, you gesture toward your living room.

He nods once - a small up and down of his head.  

“So.”  You try again, softer this time, warmed by the heat that permeates ceramic and settles your sleep-ravaged nerves.  You’re seated cross-legged on your couch, facing him with your back pressed to the arm rest.  He’s half-turned to you, coffee cup slotted between his thighs.  Feet turned in, mouth wobbling with the intensity of how hard he’s chewing into his bottom lip.

“I couldn’t do it.”  The words rush out too fast, tumble into each other in such a way you have to take a second to comprehend what he’s said.  Couldn’t do… it?

You stare at each other for a long while, you trying to understand and him refusing to meet your stare.  

When realisation dawns on you, you can only imagine how you look.  It must be terrifying by how Jungkook practically tries to crawl into the cushions of your couch, shoulders rising around his ears like a turtle.

“You didn’t ask her?”  It explodes out, a question that demands an answer. 

He’s staring past your head, unblinking.  You’d almost worry he was a robot if his voice weren’t so damned human, full of melancholy and rounded by his lisp.  “I c-couldn’t.  It was just…”  The shrug he offers is half-assed at best, not nearly good enough to excuse him.

“Just what?”  

“Just—”  There’s the wiggly hand gesture you do that he’s adopted, his ink-strewn hand waving through the air like a floppy chicken foot.  He thinks it’ll earn him a pass but your unrelenting glare indicates otherwise.  He deflates, hand falling back to his lap, clutching his mug like it's a makeshift security blanket.  “It didn’t feel right.”

What did that even mean?  Feel right?  

Love didn’t just appear, fully-formed and complete.  It took work and dedication and the understanding it could all come crashing down.  Didn’t he understand that?  Hadn’t you drilled that into his head?

You exhale through gritted teeth, push breath past enamel that acts like a solid steel gate.  

“Jungkook, it’s not going to just ‘feel right.’”  You’re air quoting, all tact thrown out the window.  “You like her, don’t you?”

You expect him to nod immediately.  He doesn’t. 

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” 

“You like her, right?”  

“I think so.”

You want to tear your own hair out.  Instead, you press the pads of your fingers into your temple - apply pressure in hopes of alleviating the tension that settles there.  “So, you like her.”  It feels a bit bad, condescending in a way;  you don’t mean it in any way but supportive.  You just want him to be happy.  “But you couldn’t ask her out because it didn’t feel right?”

“She’s not you.”  

He’s looking at you now, looks like he might have a heart attack if he does so any longer.  But he doesn’t tear his gaze away when you meet it, entire expression warped into something you don’t recognise.  Hope, maybe?  Fear?   

“What?”  You wish it were hard rather than feather light, almost lost to the cacophony in your head.

The hollow of his cheek is thrown into stark relief, the line of his jaw clenched tight.  He repeats himself even as you’re the one looking away, shaking your head as if that might will away the irksome answer.  (It won’t.)

“Don’t say things like that.”  

It’s hurt that flashes through his expression and strikes you right in the centre of your chest.  His face crumbles, brows knit together beneath his mop of shiny hair.  He looks so terribly sad - a kicked puppy, an abandoned deer.  Bambi, through and through.

“You asked why I didn’t do it,”  he reasons in a voice far more solid than he looks.

“I didn’t think you’d say something so ridiculous.”  It’s cruel.  “You’re making a bad choice.  You’re into this girl.  Don’t be dumb.”

His features rearrange, then so do his limbs, entire body lifting from his seat in jerky, disjointed movements.  “I’m not dumb.”  There’s a reproachful quality to his words, a distaste he doesn’t bother to mask.  It’s not something you’ve ever faced, surprising you enough to draw your eyes to his face.  

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you know.  

When he leaves - sets his cup in the sink and storms out the way he’d come before you have time to stop him - you wonder if you ever knew him at all.

“Okay.  Spill.”

Yejin’s tired of your abrasiveness, tired of having her head bitten off every time she tries to approach you with a question.  You can’t blame her.  You’ve felt like shit the last week, sleep-deprived and generally pissed off.  

All because of a doe-eyed idiot.  

“What?”  It’s less snark, more sigh.  You’re counting down the minutes until you’re free, until you can curl back up in your bed and try to sleep like you’ve done the last four days.  

“What’s going on with you?”  

“Nothing.”  

“Bullshit,”  she hums, trailing after you as you move behind the counter.  “You’ve been in a bad mood all week.  I’ve never seen you this upset like, ever.”  She’s right, of course.  You’ve always been very careful to keep business separate, pushing the customer service agenda no matter what.  “Did something happen?”  

You grit your teeth.  An expletive careens off your tongue when you slam the tip of your finger within the drawer you’d just shut.

“____,”  she tries again, concerned.  

“Nothing happened.”

“See, I don’t believe that because like, look at you!”  She gesticulates wildly, adorned wrists clinking loudly.  “You look like hell—”

“Thanks.”

“—and you’re being clumsy and like, I think I know you well enough.  So just tell me?”

You hate that she’s right.  It doesn’t mean you’ll relent, too caught up in your own strange brand of strength to unload.  (Maybe it’d be helpful.  Probably.  But you’ve never found comfort in other people.  At least, not like this.)

“Yejin.”  Her name stops her in her tracks, hurried and insistent as you pull your coat on.  “It’s fine.  Really.”  You’re swallowing your pride - practically choking on it - as you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile.  “I just need to get some sleep.”  And figure out what the hell to do about Jungkook, but that’s a can of worms you refuse to open and certainly not here.

Maybe at home, over a glass of wine, fueled by liquid courage.  

The bottle of Côtes du Rhône has aided you more than you’d hoped, offered an armour that slinks over your shoulders and drives your fingers to action.  It’s prompted something - started the ball rolling.

(Idly, you think that might not have been a very good idea, but it’s too late to care now.)

“You’re here.”  You being him and him being Jeon Jungkook, hair damp and imposing frame draped in an oversized sweater.  He looks terribly uncomfortable standing in your doorway - more so than he had days ago - hands shoved into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie, dumb sneakers pigeon-toed as if he’s ready to take flight.

“Y-you asked,”  he mutters, refusing to meet your stare.  At least, you think he’s refusing.  It’s a little hard to focus when there’s this fine film turning everything hazy, the bitter taste of wine heavy on your tongue.  

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy then, though he never quite meets your eyes.  It’s a smart tactic - level you with a look then immediately bounce it away.  It has you coming back for more, eager to refocus his fretful gaze until it’s locked with your own.

“Will you come in?”  You sidestep, give him enough space that he can enter without feeling suffocated.  He still hesitates, takes a second too long in deciding.  “I won’t bite.”

You don’t miss the better promise that comes under his breath.

“So.”  This feels oddly familiar, him backed into the corner of your couch again while you settle across from him.  He hums a noise but offers nothing further.  

This is how it’ll be then.  Fine.  If he wants to be this way.

“You like me.”

He sputters - doesn’t mean to, by how big his eyes go.  He hadn’t expected it to come barreling out of your mouth.  “I—  I don’t—  I didn’t say that.” 

If it were anyone but him, you’d take his reticence as rudeness.  

“Tell me why.”

The poor boy blinks, stares at you full on now.  Can’t look away, locked in the intensity of your stare.  

“W-what?”

“Tell me.”  You sip carefully at the liquid in your glass, swirl it ‘round and ‘round.  “You said that girl wasn’t me but you haven’t made a case as to why that matters.  What have I got that she doesn’t?”  

“You’re serious?”  

“As a heart attack, Jungkookie.”

The brunet swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion.  You think he might say no, outright refuse.  You don’t expect him to start rattling things off like the list lives in his head, answers printed against the darks of his eyelids.  

“You’re funny.  You’re honest.  You speak your mind.”  You don’t mean to scoff but his reasons are so shallow - so easily found in other people.  He must read the doubt in your expression, pushing on to cut you off from doing the same to him.  “Y-you care about people even when you pretend like you don’t.  You’re just as scared of being hurt as I am.”  

For the first time in a long time - in years and years - you feel seen.  As if he’s pulled back the cover of your unpublished draft, memorised the redlines and notes in the margins.  

“I don’t—”

“You have this face you make when you’re proud of me.”  He’s turning his own fingers over in his lap, knuckles white from the strain of locking them together and undoing them again.  “When I do something you approve of or when I make you laugh.”  

There’s something thick in your throat.  

“You make me want to try.”  He clears his own, speaks so softly you have to strain to hear it.  “Y-you make things not so scary.”  

It grows heavier, harder to breathe as you stare at the man sitting across from you.  He’s focused wholly on his hands, too caught up in his words to help the way he plucks at his skin, fiddles with the silver chain that loops around his wrist.

“You know what I need, even before I know myself.  You make me laugh.”  He laughs, an almost choked sound that fizzles and rattles bashfully. “You look really, really good in your work skirt.”  You know the one he means - all black, pencil-fit.  Makes your legs look a mile long, despite the fact that they aren’t.  

You can’t help but join him, a little breathless, with a strange sensation behind your ribs.  Like sunshine on a cold day, filtering past the walls you’ve put up, streaming through the windows that’d replaced drywall when Jungkook had waltzed into your life with his fluffy hair and boyish laugh.

When you speak, you don’t even believe your own words.  They come of their own accord - a defense mechanism.  “I can’t.”

As if he knows - as if he’s got a polygraph going, Jungkook shakes his head, meets your eyes and holds you there with the intensity of his attention.  “Can’t or won’t?”

“I—”

“I’m not asking for the world here.  Just a chance.”  He’s got a peculiar look on his face.  “Don’t you think you owe it to me?”

“Excuse me?” 

All of a sudden, he’s close.  Closer than you’d expect, far closer than he should be.  There’s nothing beyond his expression, the way his eyes twinkle under the dimmed apartment lights as he stares you down.  The scent of his cologne is cloying now, the fading nectarine hint of his shampoo making your mouth water.  

“You kind of ruined my life.  I think this makes us fair.”

You sputter, gasp, make sounds that careen off your tongue and fill the air with nonsense.  You’d ruined his life?  (You’d made it better - made him see the light, you thought.)  You’re working to find your voice, ready to tear into him for this abrupt accusation.

Then he’s giggling, nose scrunched and delight filtering past his teeth.  

“I’m kidding.”  

It feels like whiplash.  You’ve created a monster.  

“But you do owe me, I think.  So why not?”

You only have yourself to blame when you say yes, conceding to his pretty eyes and sweet smile.

Dating Jungkook is easy - as effortless as breathing.  He’s a bona fide dreamboat plucked from your wildest dreams. 

He texts when he says he will and picks you up every night, stamping a kiss to your cheek the moment you’ve clocked out.  He holds your hand and refuses to let go, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist when you’re tired or stressed or annoyed.  He brings flowers to every date - insists on them even when you tell him they’re a waste of money.  He knows your coffee order, has learned the art of the pour over when he wakes up before you.  

You understand now, why he’d stayed with women who were terrible for him (to him).  If you were them, you wouldn’t have let him go either.  Would lock him up in an old tower like your own personal Rapunzel.

(You say that because you’ve been on a Disney movie binge.  He is, unsurprisingly, very into these sorts of things.)

“Open it,”  he pleads, pushing the luxurious pink box towards you.

You stare down at the lid, the Agent Provocateur label glaring back at you.  You can’t help how you laugh, sound bouncing around his bedroom.  “Are you trying to tell me something, Jungkookie?”

Your lover - not boyfriend, because you haven’t had the talk and it’s still new and you’ve never been this careful before - rolls his eyes, pushes the box closer with a huff.  It’s adorable.  

“Just open it.”

You finger the soft bow strapped across the top, play with the neatly cut ends.  You can feel the impatience radiating off Jungkook, feel those pretty doe eyes boring holes into the top of your head.  You take your time even more now, unravelling the ribbon with slow, measured twists of your wrist.  

Whatever you’d expected to find nestled among the tissue paper, this isn’t it.  

You’d imagined he’d be into something feminine, all pristine white lace and scalloped cups.  Something he could brush his cheek against, run his fingers over.  

Tucked within the box is something that doesn’t even earn the title of lingerie, a few flimsy straps bonded together.  Blush pink satin and dressed with buckles, you turn it over in your hands, trying to make sense of the way it all connects.  Surely there’s more to this.  Surely, darling innocent Jeon Jungkook doesn’t expect you to wear just this?

“Do you like it?”  You can sense the eagerness in his voice, that desire he has to please that seems to never go away.  

“What is it?”

“It’s a playsuit.”  

“A playsuit?”  You’re no stranger to experimenting in the bedroom but this— this looks like it’s meant to harness a dog in.  Would it even fit?  Soft as it is, it seems terribly restrictive, made for someone with model proportions and no body fat at all.

He nods, round eyes so bright, so hopeful, you can’t voice your concerns.  “Will you wear it?”

It fits you better than you’d expected.  Or at least, you think it does.  If Jungkook’s reaction was any indication, it’s heaven sent - the perfect gift wrapping for a present he’s been dying to claim. 

The buckles you’d studied earlier - that had taken you too long to strap together - dig into the tender flesh of your hips, the shape of his fingers imprinted along the metal.  He grips you so tight you think you might bruise, left with a reminder of his love for weeks.

“S-so wet,”  he groans, sound dropping into an almost whine as the swollen mushroom head of his cock brushes through your folds.  The satin of the playsuit has been long since tugged aside, stained with your arousal as it cuts into the softness of your thighs.  He repeats the motion once, twice, coats your clit in pre-cum that leaks out of the slit and adds another layer of slick.  “So ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod dumbly, drool around the two fingers he’s got slotted against your cheek, ring finger pressed down over your tongue.  

“Use your words, gorgeous.”  As if you can, as if you’re not riding the high of your last orgasm and about to come apart beneath his playful teasing.

The palm of his hand meets your overstimulated clit with a sharp smack, the cold of his teeth bared against your neck.  He doesn’t like when you don’t answer - much prefers to make an effort even if it’s indiscernible.

“What did I say?”  

Something garbled comes, a plea as much as a sob.  Another hit lands, just shy of the pearl that throbs with need and pain, landing instead on the sensitive, already red skin of your inner thigh.  He soothes it this time around, massages your own wetness into the roses that bloom beneath his touch.

When he speaks again, it’s so utterly sweet, tender as can be.  The Jungkook you’ve known for months and not the devil in disguise.  

“You like this, don’t you?”  His kisses are searing, laced with reverence that feels at odds with the way he forces your gag reflex, taps his curved cock against your pussy.  “You like what I’m doing?”

“Y-yes,”  you cry, spit pooling past the sides of your mouth, dripping lewdly across your breasts.  The hand cradling your chin is all but drenched, dark ink thrown into stark relief by the way it slides over his skin.  Jungkook hums against your cheek, licks a fat stripe from shoulder to ear.  

“Good girl.”  Two fingers spread across over your heat, pointer and index sliding over your lips.  You’re spread obscenely - can see it in the mirror that rests against the far wall.  Can see how the head of his cock peeks between your thighs, runs the same path over and over with each languid, slow roll of his hips.  “Such a good girl for me.  My perfect girl.”

Your shoulders shake with the effort you put into nodding, throat clenching on reflex when the three fingers in your mouth flatten over your tongue, hold you steady in place.

“Pretty girl wants more, doesn’t she?  Wants me to fill her up?”

He’s teasing you, the bastard.  Dragging his aching erection against your cunt as you writhe against him, desperate.  It’s amusing to him - you can read the delight in the reflection, see it shining bright like a beacon when he pulls his hand away and recentres it across your chest.  Digits tease at the already pebbled buds, swollen and sensitive from how hard he’d sucked them into his mouth earlier.

“Say it.  Say you want me.”

You do, without hesitation, without fear.  You know he’ll catch you.  “I want you.”  

He sinks into you the same instant the words fall, holds you tight against him when your entire body begins buzzing and threatens to do the same.  Your walls feel like a vice grip around him, greedily sucking in his cock as he slams home, ruts into you like a wild animal.  

Strong as he is, he’s weak to the noises you make - the broken sobs that spill off your tongue and make up the prettiest sound he’s ever heard - and how you feel absolutely perfect, wet and warm.  The muscle in his thighs strain, pleasure vibrating up the notches of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight with its ascent.

“B-be mine,”  he returns, practically begging as he spreads you wide, making you take everything he has to offer.  Heart and soul and stupidly huge, perfect cock.

“I am.  I am.  I am,”  you chant, tears welling along your lash line.  They fall when his rhythm stutters, when the heat overwhelms and you’re coming for the third time that night, crying his name like it’s the only word you know.  

They continue to pour, carve trails down your reddened cheeks as you reach nirvana, wait for moment he’s right there with you.  It doesn’t take long - a few more punishing thrusts into your fluttering heat - and then he’s found his bliss, crying into the silk of your hair, spilling inside you. 

It doesn’t happen how you thought it would - a shy question poised over dinner, sealed with a sweet kiss on the way to the car - but it means just as much.  Breaks you apart as it rebuilds you, fills you up as it splits your seams.

You’re his and he’s always been yours. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @shaybtsforever @we-found-wonderland-in-1989 @justanothergirlfromeurope @jalexad @bonnyskies @coffeeismylife28 @haeilove @purplespaceymermaid @sunsetsnsirens-blog @beingbeings​ @veronawrites​ @notmontae97​ @papillonsgf​ i’m really hoping i didn’t miss anyone e___e

[arcadejohn127-9]

Ahhh I love your writing sm!! Could I request how the brothers would react to an MC that's super doting and overly loving from the get-go?. Always insists on helping w cooking duty, brings the brothers coffee if they look busy, etc? pls & ty!

Tbh I don't really have a love language over than verbal but this speaks to me

In game I make my MC very much like this, overly positive and always wanting to help. Not because I have to, I could easily pick more honest or teasing options but when it comes to it. My first instinct/Response is those options because I like the idea of being helpful to people

It's only when people start using that for their advantage or make me help them out even though I'm busy or just don't want to do it. That's when there's an issue.

Lucifer:

"oh~ Luci! You still working?"

You peered over at him at his desk, peaking from the space between the wall and the stair railing

He looked up at you with a tired expression, frowning

"I am, what do you need?"

you trotted down the rest of the steps, walking over to him with a bright smile

A tray in hand with coffee and biscuits and apple slices

"I made these for you, I know it isn't much but you're always working so hard... perhaps I can help?"

Lucifer wasn't too surprised, you were always offering your help whenever you could but it still surprised him you were so quick to offer

He didn't know how you had all that energy to face the day and then do more for others but he always enjoyed your company

"be my guest."

You grabbed a mini stool and sat beside him, you'd read over papers with him, massaging his hand whenever you noticed it cramped

He shared the snacks you got him and even revealed the mini snack draw he had in his desk

He put a finger to his lips with a smile

"don't tell my brother's, this will be just between you and me."

He showed you what he had and you picked whatever caught your fancy, happily eating as you looked over the papers

Mammon:

He wasn't use to Someone being nice to him so when you came along and offered acts of service - he was blown away!

Even over time he wasn't really use to it

Speaking of you and your acts or service; you were whistling a happy tune

A thick wallet in your pocket, you headed straight to mammons room

It was as if he could smell the money, he rushed to your side and started eyeing the wallet

"Stop peeking - it's a gift."

He looked at you confused but was grinning

"oh? The great Mammon can't refuse a gift!"

You placed the wallet in his hand, he let out a yelp at the weight of it

It was completely loaded!!! It was stuffed with money!

He couldn't believe it - it had to be a trick! There was no way you were giving him this much money!

"Are ya playing with me? Ha ha human."

"no tricks, you've been struggling with your debt to the witch's so I thought I'd help, I heard you've been getting in trouble with Lucifer more because of it so I wanted to help!"

He didn't even realize he teared up, he jumped towards you and hugged you close

Nuzzling your faces together as he hugged you tight

"You-! YOU DAMN HUMAN- NO YOU ANGEL! YOU'RE THE BEST THING THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!"

You patted his arm, laughing and it wasn't long before he was planning to spend a big splurge on you despite his issues with money already

Levithan:

He was shuffling into his room, headphones on and just starting to calm down

Today was hectic so he was happy to finally be back home

"Evening! Don't worry, I still used the secret password."

"HUH-?! THAT'S NOT- WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!"

He threw his headphones off, face bright red

He should of known you were up to something, you kept humming whenever you entered his room

Talking about cleaning up after himself but he kept forgetting due to getting distracted

"I noticed it's gotten really messy so I decided to clean it for you but before you say anything, I know you hate when it's cleaned because you don't know where anything so I've labelled where everything has been stored if it's changed places."

He was still upset, he REALLY hated it when things are changed without him knowing first

But he looked around the room and sure enough, things were still in the cupboards and places he stacked them in and the labels were correct

Everything was completely organized! All the piled up ramen was even gone!

He exhaled a long breathe calming himself down, he was happy - really really happy

"Thanks.... just - can we arrange something next time? But I do like what you did! It looks nice - it's much better now!"

"of course, I'll ask next time - also~ I got you some special ruri-chan themed chips in hopes to make you feel better."

He moves before he knows it, hugging you tight

"STAY WITH ME FOREVER!!!!"

He's definitely embarassed afterwards and gets you out of his room before he makes himself look more like a love sick fool

But don't worry, he texts you wanting to hang out later

Satan:

Satan has been locked in his room after having a big outburst earlier that day

He got overwhelmed from all the noises and threw a book at mammon

You waited awhile before going after him, wanting him to calm down and looked after mammons sore head

You grabbed the book he threw, making a nice calming tea and even made some Apple pie

When you knocked his door he freezed

"Who is it-?! Lucifer, I'm not in the mood for your scolding-"

"it's just me, I got you something!"

He opened the door for you, letting you inside

His room looked clean for once - you didn't doubt he continued his rage into his room and cleaned up to calm down

You offered him a smile, placing the tray on his bed

"I hope you like it, I made it myself."

He looked at the fresh apple pie, his stomach rumbling at the mere sight of it

"you did this...for me? Didn't I scare you?"

You hummed, sitting close to him

"yeah a little but everyone has their bad days, you having one doesn't change anything - though you do need to apologize to mammon."

He sat down by his bed, placing the tray on his lap

"you're right I do, thank you for not just seeing me as some angry creature....I didn't intend to blow up like that."

You patted his arm, still smiling

You two sat together, you read his book for him whilst he ate and drank

He was very bashful at how supportive you are but that was you, you've always been so quick to offer help or do things for people ever since you've arrived

You were good to him, he'll always appreciate that

Asmodeus:

His love language is affection and words

Yours is acts of service

It's perfect!

Though, when it was established you were quick to help and offer your service - prepare for MANY innuendos

He'll come skipping to you, draping himself off the nearest object and asking if you want to help him de-stress

Most of the time you just have spa days or lay around doing nothing

You decided to treat him today seeing as exams were stressing him out

"Asmo! Won't you help me? I have this lovely new-"

He's skidding as he appears in the doorway, ready to do whatever you want

But you just grinned, knowing your plan worked

You grabbed him and shoved him into a chair

Before he knew it; his hair was tied up and his jacket and scarf has disappeared

"oh? What's all this about? Does my love want some special care?"

"nope, I just want to look after you today~ you've been stressing over exams so much, I wanted to treat you like a prince."

He had the biggest grin on his face after that

And treated like a prince he was

You did his skin routine, brushed his hair and curled it

If he even mentioned being thirsty you were straight to getting him a nice refreshing drink

If you're able to - please carry him bridal style - he will love every second of it

"you treat me so well, I know I'm already a blessing to this demonic world but you're just pure light."

He's so love sick, an absolute fool in love

"nonsense, I'm just helping you like usual."

Which is true, you were always being helpful to him

Thats why he loved doing whatever he could for you

"Never leave the Devildom, I couldn't bare not seeing your beautiful face everyday."

You just laughed, massaging his face and gave him a quick kiss

Beezlebub:

Another person who does acts of service as a love language

Though, do forgive him if he forgets due to hunger - he'll immediately make it up to you

At this point he's become a subconscious challenge/game of service - always trying to one up each other

Currently, he was really anxious about his up coming game

It was the biggest one that R.A.D was having and was against a smaller school in the Devildom

The brothers all agreed to come watch him play and even made banners and levi brought glowsticks

You were no were to be seen

The weeks running up to the game you were always busy and whilst you still do some things for him here or there - you were mostly out of the house

But it was but a long lasting plan

You planned on supporting him the best way you could!

When he finally rolled onto the field he felt dread when he didn't spot you in the crowd

He couldn't stop frowning until he saw you, shaking pom poms and running with the cheersquad

That's right, you joined the cheer team to show your support for the lovely demon

"I WANT TO DEDICATE A CHEER TO OUR STAR PLAYER - BEEZLEBUB!!!"

He's so flustered and absolutely shining with joy under his helmet

As soon as he could he came running towards you and hugged you tight

"I was so worried I did something that made you drift away....you did this for me?"

"of course! I'm sorry I made you worried, I wanted to surprise you."

He had to take off his helmet after trying to nuzzle your face, you yelped when it bonked you

"This is the best thing anyone has done for me, thank you (Y/N)."

"you're welcome, now go win that game! Prove those losers that R.A.D is the best school around!"

It was no surprised that R.A.D won

The players all cheered and partied, inviting the band and cheerleaders to celebrate with them

But you decided to have a sleepover with Beelzebub, feeding him plenty of tasty foods as your own type of celebration

"Open wide."

You almost choked on the cake basically shoved in your mouth, laughing as frosting covered your nose and cheeks

You got your revenge but he happily licked what he could

This is the best celebration he could ever get

All because of you!

Belphegor:

Even if your love language wasn't acts or service, you definitely got in the habit of doing it with this guy

He was spoilt from always being carried and pampered by his twin

He could get away with sleeping anywhere as long as he got things done and good grades

But you were always the helpful human, giving him snacks or fluffing his pillows

He's joked about getting a bell so he could call you whenever he needed you

That never happened

"Belphie!! You awake? I got something for you."

He immediately popped his head up and waved to get your attention

You showed him the cup of hot mocha you've recently made; sweet and delicious and has an extra kick to help with keeping awake

"Smells delicious, you made this?"

"yep! Now drink up, we got plans today."

He happily drunk it, feeling more awake with every gulp

By the end of the Cup he was absolutely overjoyed from the taste

Though you almost groaned in frustration when he yawned, so happy that he got sleepy

"you have anymore~? I could drink loads of these- make me more, you know how to make them, I'm too sleepy - it's your fault I'm sleepy."

You flicked his head

Reminding him to not act like a brat

But you did make him more and throughout the day you'd give him a large cup

You needed to do studies and make sure belphegor kept his grades up - Lucifer's orders

But he was already a star pupil regardless so you weren't sure why you had to

But spending time with your favourite demon was never an issue, regardless of his attitude

"We need to do this more, I love it when you look after me."

"I know, now write your answer, I need proof you're working so I don't get strung up."

[thegreenmetblue]

STARKER FESTIVAL SUMMER BINGO : 9th square

hurt/comfort

read on ao3

im gifting this one to @itfeelssogoodmrstark because 1. gift day 🙈, 2. you’re being the sweetest with me when i get anxiety and it does help me 🥺 and 3. you always give me the motivation to write 🥰, love you sm luna ❤️❤️

tw : anxiety, heart palpitations and panic attack

My Heart Is Yours, So Hold Me Forever

My Heart Is Yours

“Boss, I have to inform you that the boy’s heart is beating faster than usual.”, FRIDAY alerts Tony while he’s working in the lab. Tony stops, the boy ?

“Fri, are you talking about Peter ?”, he asks, frowning. Why is his AI calling Peter ‘the boy’? “Affirmative, Sir.”, his creation answers. Tony tries not to start to worry.

“Is he patrolling or doing any exercices ?”, the man asks, still trying to not panic yet. Is Peter in danger ? Where he is ? He’s supposed to be at school at this hour of the day. He shouldn’t be patrolling. Which would mean he-

“He presently is locked in the bathroom of his high school, Boss. From the vitals Karen just transmitted me, it appears he’s not in danger, but his body shows several signs of panic and anxiety.”, Tony hears her voice echoes in his brain. Shit. What happened ?

In less time that Tony would have taken to even walk to his kitchen, he’s in the suit flying to Peter’s school. He tries not to let his heart race too much. Peter’s probably having a panic attack or something. He can’t allow himself to have one too. Not right now.

Tony doesn’t even care that people could see him almost running in a high school. He just cares about Peter.

When he opens the boys’s toilets’s door, the first thing he hears is small sniffles. “Pete?”, he says softly, not to scare the poor thing. Tony hears the boy’s breath stopping suddenly.

“Mr- Mr. Stark ? Is that you ?”, a small cracking voice asks. He’s been crying. Tony closes the first door and completely enters the bathroom. “Yeah it’s me kiddo.”, the man answers in an almost whisper, still trying to sound like he’s not worried.

“What… What are you- ? Why are you here ?”, Peter whines, almost like he’s gonna cry again, he’s a bit breathless. So Tony was right, was Peter having a panic attack ?

“Please I’d like better not to talk to an orange school door toilet, Pete. Get out of there.”, Tony says and as soon as he hears a small sob, he realizes he’s being a bit harsh. Shit. He has to control his damn worry.

“Im sorry, kid. Fri alerted me you were panicking. What happened Peter ?”, he finally questions, trying not to stress the boy. There’s no direct answer, but another sniffing. Tony doesn’t push it. He wants to, but he doesn’t. He gives Peter enough time to speak.

“I- I don’t really know… I.. my heart is- just beating so fast right now, and my stomach is so clenched and I feel like I can’t breathe.”, Peter explains after a few seconds, Tony hears the trembling in his voice, he wonders if it’s because of his heart beating fast or because he cried.

“It’s alright, Peter… Hey, can you get out of there for me please ?” There’s another silence, Peter’s breath is louder, shakier. Tony’s shoulders release a bit of their tension when he finally hears the ‘click’ of the door’s lock.

But the view before him almost breaks his heart. Peter’s eyes are red, his cheeks are read too, and he’s literally trembling, a hand clenching on his shirt just where his heart is at. And Tony just wants to hug him and never let go. Fuck, when did he become that protective with Peter ? He’s seen people in so much worse state. And yet, his protection instinct never were that strong.

“Sweetheart…”, he lets slip. It only adds more tears to Peter’s eyes. “Im sorry…”, the boy mumbles, looking down.

“Hey. None of that. Can you tell me what happened ?”, the man asks, still restraining himself to pull Peter close to him. Shit, Stark get a hold on yourself. But again, Peter only seems to have more and more difficulties to breathe.

“Hey, Hey, it’s alright Peter. Breathe for me please ? In and out ? You’re alright buddy, it’s alright.”. Tony’s soft voice seems to work out a bit on Peter. But the hand on his heart is still there. FRIDAY told him Peter’s heartbeats were reaching 160 bpm, which is definitely too fast for someone who’s just standing in a bathroom.

Peter opens his mouth and lets out a shaky breath before speaking. “I don’t know what happened, it- it happens lots those days and I don’t know why, im just getting really anxious and then I feel like I can’t do anything, I get- those, my heart, it’s being like this for no reasons, and it scares me. I feel like Im gonna have a heart attack.”, he explains in one shot, voice still trembling. Tony shushes him. But Peter continues. “And my tummy feels like- clenched and I hear my heart echoing in my whole body right now, it hurts my chest and my back. And-”

“Peter.”, Tony cuts him. “Please, you have to breathe.”

The boy does what Tony asked him to. He’s still trembling. Tony sighs. “Calm down okay ? You’re safe right now.”

“I know Im safe, Mr. Stark! That’s the issues, I don’t know why, and I think- I think you’re making it worse, I don’t know what triggered it, I can’t calm my heart, I feel like it’s gonna explode in my chest.”, Peter blurts out once again. The man tries not to get upset by Peter saying he’s making this worse.

And then Peter’s eyes start to water again. “Im- I think Im having a heart attack Mr. Stark, I can’t- I can’t breathe.”. Tony’s own heart clenches at that. “Shhh, Pete… You’re not having a heart attack, you can breathe, you’re doing perfect right now Sweetheart.”, this one petname was volunteer. Tony hates to admit it, but he damn knows how much those affect Peter. But the boy just seems to get more and more anxious, he’s even starting to get away from Tony, stepping back. Tony stares at the boy’s hand, still clenching hard on his shirt, like he needed to feel how fast his heart was beating.

“Pl-Please, make it stop, I- I left the class without even asking if I could, the teacher is gonna send May something, and it’s worse, you make it worse, Mr. Stark, please.”, Peter starts to full cry now, his body trembling even more. Okay, that’s it. Tony thinks.

“Pete, can I touch you ?”, he still asks, not to startle him even more. Peter doesn’t answer but he nods. “Okay turn around and take your shirt off.”, he orders, voice still soft. That gets a reaction out of Peter.

“What ?”, he says dumbly, he can’t blush because his cheeks are already red but Tony hates that he wished they weren’t just so he could see the red creeping in the boy’s cheeks at that. And then he hates himself, thinking like that when Peter clearly isn’t feeling okay.

“Do what I say, Pete, Im not gonna do anything, I promise.”, he tries to reassure the boy. God, he knows how that sounds.

Peter stays silent for a little while and then actually does take his shirt off. In front of Tony, before turning away from him. Tony tries not to stare. He’s being the worst right now., but then Peter actually turns around and facing the boy’s back makes it easier for Tony to remember why he’s doing this.

Peter lets another sobs. “My chest- it burns, I can’t calm it down, why is-”, he starts but Tony cuts him again.

“Shhh, I want you to forget your heart, Pete. You forget your heartbeats and focus on my finger, alright ? Im gonna write words in your back, baby. And the only thing you have to do is to guess the letters, and then the word, okay ? Im sure you already played this game before.”, he explains, still making effort to keep his voice soft and reassuring for Peter.

Tony knows Peter really isn’t in his normal state when he doesn’t hears the awkward response he would have said in a normal situation if Tony said he’d draw letters on his bare back. The only thing he gets is Peter nodding again and whispering a small, shaky ‘Kay.’.

Tony puts a hand on the boy’s shoulder, to ground him. And then, with his second hand, he draw a ‘W’ on Peter’s back. He sees Peter’s skin shivering but it’s the only thing he gets.

“Pete, what letter did I just draw ?”, he asks, patiently. “Huh.. I- I don’t know.”

“Shhh, it’s okay, Im gonna do it again, okay ? Please focus on my finger on your back.”, Tony whispers before doing another ‘W’ on Peter’s back. He hates how smooth his finger feels against that sweet skin.

“W ?”, Peter asks and Tony smiles, praising a soft ‘yeah that’s good, perfect.’, before drawing an ‘E’.

Peter’s body and breath are still shaky, but the latest doesn’t come out as sobs anymore. This time, he guesses on the first shot. “E.”, he says, voice still sick. Tony hums and draws a ‘B’.

“Are- Are you gonna write webs ?”, the boy asks finally. Tony hides a laugh. “Smart boy. It’s what came to my mind first. But the game is more about focusing on each letter, less about finding the word, Pete. Just focus on the way my finger feels on your back, huh ?”. The man hates how that sounds again. But it’s what Peter has to do, so he nods. He started with a short words on purpose so Peter doesn’t get overwhelmed by the task.

Tony draws a ’S’ and then leaves his hand on Peter’s back. He doesn’t ask if Peter’s heart feels less like it’s gonna explode. Peter has to focus on something else.

“Alright, Im gonna start a new word now okay ?”, Tony prevents. He thanks the lord that it’s classes hours because it’s probably safe from anyone entering the bathroom right now. God- What would it even look like ? Plus, it’d just throw Peter in an even more stressing situation.

Next, Tony goes with ‘P-E-A-C-H’, just because he can smell Peter’s peachy shampoo from there. The boy seems already more calmed down. No more sobs, breath more regular, trembling almost gone. They don’t talk about anything else but the ‘game’, Peter tells letters and words, and Tony praises.

’H-O-N-E-Y’ He’ll be damned, he doesn’t even care.

‘V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N’

Every time Tony starts a new word, he sees Peter’s back shivering. But he doesn’t care, because Peter looks better. Sounds better. He can feel how relaxed the boy starts to be with the hand that’s still on his shoulder.

’S-A-N-D-W-I-C-H’ Peter even laugh, saying that now he’s hungry.

And Tony goes for the last one, because it worked, Peter’s not panicking anymore. ’S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T’. Yes, two petnames, he’s already damned anyway.

“Sweetheart ?”, Peter says in a weak voice. And it’s the first time he asks a question. Because he’s not searching for approval. He’s asking if the sweetheart is him. Tony decides to ignore that, pretending he didn’t understand and praises him for finding the right word.

“Turn around now, Pete.”, he orders gently. Peter’s eyes aren’t frantic, his mouth isn’t twisted, he still have red cheeks, but Tony guesses it’s because of- anyway. “It… It worked, my heart feels normal again. My stomach too. I… Thank you, Mr. Stark.”, Peter says, hesitantly, looking- looking at Tony with eyes that makes him wanna protect him forever. “I… I liked the- your hand, on my back.”

And it’s too much, Tony can’t help it, without Peter even having any time to realize it, Tony pulls him close in a hug. It takes a second for Peter to wrap his arms against the man too. Tony may be hugging him too tight, he doesn’t care. He just cares about having Peter here, close, safe. They don’t say anything, they just keep hugging like it was the last time they would see each other.

And automatically, Tony’s hand finds his way to Peter’s hair. The sound Peter makes, and tries to hide by sinking his head deeper in Tony’s chest, sends butterflies into Tony’s stomach. Fucking butterflies. What is he ? 12 ?

They stay a bit more like this, Tony petting Peter’s hair, his hand snarling into the boy’s soft curls. It’s like magic. Because it appeases both of them. Peter doesn’t even bother to hide the purrs coming out of his mouth, and Tony- Tony is melting.

It’s lasting too much. Tony’s hand slides into the boy’s neck and he feels Peter’s skin shivering again. Stop., he tells himself. Stop before you cross the damn line, Stark. But fuck, the line is so blur right now.

Fuck, don’t.

With his other hand he tilts Peter’s head up, moving themself just a bit further but now they’re facing each other. Tony closes his eyes. Peter’s cheeks are so red, his eyes are just- begging him to do it. He can’t. He can’t look because he’s about to do the biggest mistake of his whole life, and it’s saying lots.

“Mr. Stark… Please ?”, Peter finally whispers, voice just demanding, his breath caressing the man’s face. Tony’s eyes open on their own.

Fuck it.

And the next thing both of them can understand is that their lips are against each other’s. Tony can’t believe he’s doing this. Peter can’t believe this is happening. But both of them just can’t fight it anymore. Peter’s body suddenly wraps around Tony’s and the man clenches his hands around Peter’s back hard. He wants Peter to be closer, he wants Peter to be safe, he wants Peter to be his, he wants Peter.

It’s sloppy, Peter doesn’t know how to kiss. Tony doesn’t mind. No, it’s a lie, Tony knows he’s Peter’s first kiss and it awakes something dangerously warm inside him.

The small choked noises Peter is doing right now are gonna stay graved in Tony’s memory forever. It’s so good, it feels like liberty and flying. For both of them. It feels like there’s a fire, and both of them are into it, but it’s not a bad burning, it’s a beautiful burning.

And when the kiss stops, for them to breathe, Tony sees the most beautiful thing in the world in front of him. And this beautiful thing is looking at him like he just hung the moon.

“I- Im- Oh my god, Im so sorry Mr. Stark, I didn’t want t-”, Peter starts, stuttering and panicking again but Tony puts a finger on his mouth, shushing him immediately.

“Shhh, we don’t want you to have another crisis don’t we ?”, he says. And then there’s a silence. A loud one. Peter looks like he’s about to cry again. Tony has a choice to make. A big one. Two solutions, only one of them is reasonable.

“Let’s move to the compound, Pete. Not sure you’d appreciate one of your teacher seeing you kissing Tony Stark.”, he finally says. Yeah, Tony isn’t really known for making reasonable choices. But when he sees the boy’s face lightning up in front of him, it really doesn’t matter anymore.

So Hold Me Forever

Peter was having a great day. It’s summertime and he, MJ And Ned went to the public swimming pool -yes, he told Tony they wanted to go there and not in the penthouse’s swimming pool-, and now they’re eating in a fast-food. Holidays just started, no more school, no more homework, no more exam, yeah, Peter is definitely having a great day.

The boy was threatening MJ to give him back his fries when he felt his heart clenching hard.

Oh no.

That must have reflected on his face because suddenly, both Ned and MJ are asking him if he’s alright.

“I- I gotta go, guys, sorry, I’ll maybe catch with you later!”, Peter hurries before literally jumping from his seat and rushing out. He knows it’s a lie. He know he definitely won’t come back. Because Tony is having a panic attack right now.

Fuck. If it wasn’t for his spidey sense, he wouldn’t even have known. Meaning that Tony told FRIDAY not to alert him.

“Fuck you Tony…”, he mumbles, already swinging his way back to the compound. In those moments, Peter wished he had an armor like Tony to go faster.

When he finally arrives, he asks FRIDAY to localise Tony and then rushes to the lab. Tony is there, sat on the floor, back against the wall, breathing loudly. That vision makes Peter wanna throw up. He knows he can’t panic, he knows he can’t touch Tony, so he gently crouches in front of him.

“Tony, hey…”, he whispers, just not to startle the man. When their eyes meet, the boy’s jaw clenches because of how scared Tony looks.

“K- Kid, Pe-Pete. Get- Get o-”, the man tries to say, but Peter shushes him. “Stop talking, Im not going anywhere Tony, Im right here.”. Peter tries to control the shakiness in his voice.

He’s mildly happy to see Tony trying to nod. But if the man doesn’t put up a fight for Peter not to see him like this, then it’s that it’s really serious.

“Okay, Tony please I want you to breathe okay ? Can you breathe ? In and out ? In. In, Tony. Breathe please…”, he murmurs despite his state. But Tony doesn’t really show any respond to what he said, he’s not even looking at him. The boy sighs, fighting the tears. Not the fucking time to act like a baby, Parker. And he crabs both of Tony’s wrist.

Tony jumps, and finally locks his eyes into Peter’s. “Pet-Peter…”

“You’re okay, you’re okay Tony. It’s just a panic attack. You know what you have to do when you got those, right ? You gotta breathe. C’mon… No. Keep staring at me, please. Okay now, now-”, but Peter stops himself to take a breath. He hates seeing the man like this. “Now you gotta copy how Im breathing okay ?”, the boy asks. He shouldn’t ask, he should order.

“Honey.”, he says instead, softly. Tony still has his eyes locked into Peter’s. Peter’s still holding both of his wrist. It’s fucking scary to feel how much Tony’s shaking. He’s glad he has his superstrength, because he’s able to maintain Tony. The petname does it because Tony nods again, making a distress sound that clenches Peter’s heart so hard.

“Okay, good Tony, c’mon, like me please.”, Peter whispers before starting to breathe loudly. Calmly, but loudly, so Tony can focus on it enough to try to copy it.

“Don’t let my eyes down, Tony. Please, you always says you love my eyes. So focus on them, please. You can stare and then make fun of me because of that yellow spot I hate okay ?”, he panics a bit. Peter hates that he’s rambling even in time like this. But he just wants Tony to focus only on his face and breathing.

“Can’t-”, Tony starts but cuts himself before speaking again. “Can’t breathe.”, he manages to say. And suddenly, Peter’s lips are on his. It’s not a kiss. It was either that, either a hand on his mouth. But it just looks a bit less frightening than if Peter was stopping Tony from breathing through his mouth.

A few seconds pass before Peter moves back to his initial position. “Keep your mouth shut, Tony.”, he gently orders. “Okay, now Imma ask you the same thing but only breathing through your nose okay ?”

Tony nods again, so Peter starts breathing loudly through his nose. He forces Tony’s hands down and sits completely in front of him. Peter doesn’t even know how he can keep his breathing calm, because he just wanna burst into tears, but he does.

The man finally tries to copy the slow breathing. At first it doesn’t work because Tony’s breathless but they keep going, in silence. Just Peter holding his wrists and keeping eyes contact.

It takes a few minutes but Tony does calm himself a bit. Not enough for it to be done, but enough for practically having the same breathing pace as Peter.

So that’s a step done. Peter feels a bit calmer already. Having Tony like that in front of him is pretty scary. And he’s also always scared he won’t be able to help him. The first time Tony had a panic attack, Peter was so lost he had to call Rhodey.

A few seconds go by, still in a loud-breathing-silence and then Peter gets up. Tony follows his eyes up. “What… What are you doing kid ?”, kid. Tony doesn’t really call him like that anymore -expect for a few times in bed because c’mon that’s kinky-. If he does right now, it’s because he’s still not completely aware of the situation, still panicking. The boy gives him his hand. Tony grabs it without questioning it. And Peter pulls him up, again thanks to his superstrength. “I need you up for this.”, Peter fakes chuckles. He wants his boyfriend to know it’s okay. All of this. “It’s okay.”

And then Tony is up, legs still shaking a bit. “Friday, how’s Tony’s heart doing please ?”, he asks to the AI. “Still going faster than it should for its own good.”, that makes the boy nods.

Peter stares at him and remembers Tony actually asked him for touching permissions when he had heart palpitations. “Are you okay for me to touch you Tony ?”, he questions with a soft smile. “Yeah I am, Pete…”, the man answers, voice half breathless, half joking. And suddenly Peter’s hugging Tony. Hard. Both of their chests are glued together.

Peter hears Tony’s air stops before coming back more as a sigh. He wonders if it’s a good sign. He isn’t even sure if what he’s doing right now is helpful or no. But technically that should work.

Tony passes a hand on the boy’s neck, stroking gently the beginning of his soft curls. Peter shivers. That’s perfect. His own heart needs to be calm for this, Tony is making it calm. Because feeling the man’s one stammering against his chest definitely doesn’t help.

“Im not… Im not sure why the hug, but it does feel good, Pete”, Tony chuckles softly. He tries to act like it’s done. Peter knows it’s not. Their body are clenched against each other, he can feel the trembling everywhere.

“It’s not just a hug, we have to stay like that, okay ? It… It helps.”, Peter mumbles, not so sure he wants to explain to Tony. “What helps ? Hug ? Love ? Im.. Im sure it does, P-Pete, you did good there.”, the man tries to praises him. Peter clenches his teeth. It’s him who should praise Tony for being able to follow what Peter asked.

“You did good actually Tony. Not me. And it’s… not about hug or love. It’s about… about the fact that when two people hug, their hearts are against each other, the skin is the only barrier. And the human heart has this thing you know ? To copy beats. Like with music, when there’s loud beats, the heart tends to- anyway. What I mean is that, your heart is beating really fast right now, too fast. And mine is okay. So when we hug, like this, both of our hearts will try to copy each other’s beat. So yours should go back to a normal pace more quickly than if we just waited for it to. And it’s also nicer. T- To hug, I mean. Than to like… just wait.”, Peter finishes and wants to slaps himself for not being able to not ramble. He knows his cheeks are red and hates that.

But when his eyes go up to meet Tony’s, all he can read here is love. “Sweetheart…”, Tony whispers. But he doesn’t add anything else. However he kisses the top of Peter’s head. Again, it’s gestures that appease both of them.

“Let’s stay like this, then. So your heart can-”, the boy starts but gets cuts by Tony. “Yeah staying like that sounds perfect to me, Honey.”

So they stay. Both of them wouldn’t have any idea of how many time they stayed like this, holding each other, waiting for Tony’s heart to beat at a normal pace again. It seems like forever and just- out of time at the same time. Slowly, their position shifts a bit. Peter watches carefully that both of their hearts are still perfectly against each other, but he lets his head fall against Tony’s shoulder. Tony has his leaned on Peter’s. The man’s hands are on Peter’s hair and the boy’s ones are slowly caressing his back.

It’s finally FRIDAY’s voice who interrupt them. “Boss, your heartbeats seem to have found a slow pace again.”, she says, making them jump at the same time, stirring them out of that headspace they both went to.

Peter steps back a bit and study Tony’s face. There’s no visible signs of panic anymore. “How are you feeling ?”, he can’t help but ask. “Could be better, but could have been way worse if you haven’t showed, Pete.”, Tony smiles, creating butterflies in Peter’s stomach. “Thank you, my babyboy.”, the man adds with a smile, a fondly smile. Peter opens his mouth but nothing goes out. Tony takes his hand and brings them to the couch.

It’s easy. It’s easy to forget what just happened when Tony brings them close, under a pile of blankets on the couch. But Peter doesn’t.

“Tony… What… What happened ? Why did you… What triggered the panic attack ?”, he finally asks. Because he wants to know. Because he worries. Because he loves him. And he wants Tony to share everything with him. The good and the bad. Tony’s first silent answer is to tighten his grip around the boy’s body. Not in a bad way, more in an affectionate way. Peter wants to say ‘You don’t have to tell me.’, not to pressure Tony into saying anything, but he needs to know.

“Let’s say I… St- Rogers sent me a letter.”, Tony tells finally. Without adding anything else. He doesn’t have to. He doesn’t want to either. And that’s where Peter won’t cross the line. He got his answer. He sees Tony’s gaze wandering away and immediately comes up with something to bring him back. “Did you read it ?”, Peter questions, to tell Tony he doesn’t have to explain more. Because Peter knows. Peter knows what happened after his first battle with and against the team. And he knows how it fucked Tony up, he saw how it fucked Tony up.

“No.”, short answer. Message received.

“Okay… Thank you for telling me Tony.”, Peter practically purrs against him, showing that now they can both move on from that. But Tony apparently doesn’t catch it. “Peter, Im sorry you ha-”

“Don’t.”, Peter cuts him almost harshly. Tony shoots him a look. “Don’t say you’re sorry. I hated seeing you like that. But I would have hated it so much more if I wouldn’t have been able to help you Tony. Let me help. I wanna share those things with you. Not just the soft, not just the huh.. sexy stuff, but also this. I don’t want you to hide this part of you from me, Tony. I.. I love you. You. Not you minus your… this. You, entirely.”, Peter almost whines, fighting back the tears again. He expected Tony to shush him orally, but no. Tony leans on and kisses him.

It’s a real kiss this time, not like the one Peter did just to make Tony breathe through his nose. Peter kisses him back. It’s slow, it’s loving, just the kind of kisses both of them need right now. Peter feels so good. When Tony breaks the kiss, still staring at Peter, the smile he got makes the boy wanna bury his head against his chest. “I love you too, Petey Pie. My smart boy…”, he whispers before giving Peter another small smack on his lips.

Then they both go back to lying down, cuddled against each other under the blankets. There’s a comfortable silence. But Peter breaks it again. “If there’s something you should feel sorry about is not alerting me when this happened, Tony. Please… Promise me you will next time. Please.”, he mumbles again, hiding his head in one of the blankets.

The boy hears Tony sighing, a silence, and then “Sorry. Im gonna let you know from now on… Promise, kiddo.”. Peter only raises his head up and kisses Tony’s cheeks.

“How did you know ?”

Shit.

“How did I know what ?”, he tries, dumbly.

“How did you know I was having a panic attack ?”, Tony clarifies. Peter didn’t need him too. He just, feels so stupid for this. It’s like, proving Tony how much everything in him just loves him.

The boy lowers his head down and murmurs a faint “It’s… It’s a huh… spidey sense thing. I kinda can… feel when you… when you’re not okay or stuff.”. Admitting it makes his cheeks turn red again.

But Tony only cups his cheek with his warm hand, raising Peter’s head again so he can look at Tony’s eyes. “Baby… You have no idea what knowing that just did to me. I love you, Peter. My heart is yours.”, the man says in all honesty, feeling way too many emotions at once.

Hearing that almost makes Peter cries. He’s happy. He’s in love. “So hold me forever.”, he whispers before Tony just surrounds him with his own warm body and blankets.

🌙

for @starkerfestivals 😋💖 hope yall enjoyed it, this one is somehow personal because i had the idea to write it after a period where i had a lot of heart palpitations

[loz-tearsofahomo]

Does anyone want to see my unhinged bidenxreader fanfic. I hate it. I hate it sm. This is the definition of god fearing what he has created, i domt think the sky bitch anticipated this is what i would do with the life he gave me ANYWAYS HERE IT IS (its a highschool au one shots also i apologize for this absolute atrocious creation):

1st one:

biden looks at me

I stare back longingly

He winks AND MY HEART BURSTS OPEN WITH JOY

I- I cannot believe he looked at me!

What is this feeling? Am i? In love

Joe-chan is just perfect in everyway 🥺

2nd one:

I see him again outside my locker

I breifly ask myself why joe is still in highschool at 80

but my irrational thoughts get cut off by HIS SHEER BEAUTY

"Bi- Bi- Biden-chan,,, will you sit with me at lunch?"

In a deep seductive voice he cheerily says "Sure fellow american"

In that moment i cannot control myself

I lean in for the kiss ONLY TO REALIZE HE HAD ALREADY WALKED AWAY??

a stand there. Embarrassed. This is the worst day ever! What if joe-chan noticed? MY LOVE LIFE IS DOOMED

3rd one Part 1:

Date: A few months later

Ever since Jung Kook transferred into my homeroom class from korea Biden-chan has been hanging out with him. I really thought we had a blossoming romance until him. Everyone keeps saying how they have a perfect shoujo love story, though i still have hope since theyre not official. Me and Joe have (thankfully) still become good friends despite Jung Kook, hanging out after school and doing volleyball practice together! i just love biden senpais face when hes focused, with sweat dripping off his sexy wrinkles as he deflects the ball with perfect form, its just so... cute!

Now im gonna be honest here. I only joined volleyball to see him, im not fully versed in the rules, but on the bright side whenever i kick the ball and get disqualified joe-chan always comes and calms me. His voice is soothing, deep yet cheerful, loving, and raspy. His words float out of his mouth perfectly, always knowing what to say. I lean on his shoulder and take in his musky scent, i dont think i could ever get sick of him.

3rd one part 2:

Today me and joe senpai were practicing in the gym as normal WHEN JUNG KOOK STORMS IN

"I NEED TO SEE YOU JOE. NOW. " he yells, seemingly in desperation. Of course i know it's just an act, hes done this 5. Practices. In. A. Row.

"WHATS SO IMPORTANT THAT U NEED TO INTERRUPT OUR PRACTICE" I yell

"WHY WOULD U NEED TO KNOW SHIT HEAD"

"WHATS UR FUCKING PROBLEM JUNG KOOK"

Biden senpai chimes in "no need to fight, both of you are lovely myfellowamericans"

"Both of us...?" Tears blur my vision and my feelings overflow.

"Leave us" biden instructs jung kook to leave.

"As you wish"

Jung kook leaves with disappointment.

"Do you- do you- do you even like me?" I ask, tears staining my face.

"Of course i do fellowamerican, what would make u think i didnt?" He said while consoling me.

"Its just, its just ur always hanging out with that kook guy and never have time for me, i just- i just hate seeing you two together" "I cant control myself when im with you Joe senpai"

"Oh darling, dont call me that fellowamerican I respect you too much, just call me joe" he says smiling, although a little upset sounding

"Why are you, always with him, with jung kook, i just cannot bear it".

A tear runs down his face

"Oh dear, it seems i cannot control myself"

My tears stop. I look at him confused.

"Cannot control yourself?"

I ask.

"Why yes, why do u think i hang out with jung kook all the time?"

"Because u hate me? Becuase i will never be good enough for you? Becuase everyone knows ur in love with jung kook?"

He chuckles softly

"No sweetness, it is because i needed something to distract me... From you"

"Huh?"

"How could i ever love jung kook when i only have eyes for you? Ur wonderful, loving and an excellent fellowamerican"

I cannot believe it. Before i can say i feel the same a blairing alarms interrupts me. The buildings automatic sprinklers goes off, soaking the both of us. As we run out of the building I see jung kook holding a lighter over the fire alarm.

The image that inspired it all:

Thank you for reading my most hideous creation

[kkoongiee]

txt scenarios — txt comforting an overwhelmed s/o ‹𝟹

prompt, :00 txt + comforting a vv stressed s/o who hasnt eaten in a while because they were busy with school?? thank u sm ^^

## angst % gn!reader % wc: 1426 [ cursing, anxiety, depression, mental health discussion, ]

yeonjun will be worried the whole week before he comes by with a SHITTON of snacks because u deserve them??? ur still hunched over ur laptop and he goes to u and ur eyes are bloodshot .. hes like baby this won’t do .. 🧍 yeonjun will take over proof-reading for u while u get something to eat n go freshen up!!! he tells u to get into those jammies and he will be waiting for u to come back so he can finish up with u laying down next to him :((( he’ll prolly give u little pats on the head while he clicks away at keys to finish it up, if u can’t sleep then junnie will want u to talk to him about good things 🥺 he’ll listen to u talk about ur day and talk about what u r gonna do, then he’ll give u a gentle reminder that he loves u and that he wants u to take better care of urself!! yeonjun doesn’t want u to be hurting urself and neglecting urself because of school, he’ll be snuggling into u and tells u that he’ll be up to make u breakfast in the morning .. this boy is a saint!!! he will do anything and everything to make u feel good & keep u happy, he wants to see u and hear u always be lively 🥺 yeonjun does not mind picking up the slack around ur place, he just wants u to be healthy rly that’s all

soobin will ask u like .. can we go on a date?? later?? :] baby hasn’t seen u for the past week so he rllyyy wants to see u, but ofc he receives a no bc ur too busy?? so he’s like oh ok, i can just come over??? and ur like, no i’m busy i don’t want anyone over rn so soobin won’t accept that and ur room is dark asf, as well as the fact the house is a literal mess and not clean at all?? ur skimming thru ur books quickly, as if ur life depended on it which he presumed u thought that .. he’ll talk softly to u, hand on ur shoulder and presses a kiss to ur head :( ‘dont u think u should relax bub? 🥺 cmere’ ur kinda upset but u rllyyyy missed soobin and u just didn’t want to work anymore, so u supposed u could just take a moment to be with him?? ‘this is why u couldn’t come out with me?’ and u just nod softly ughh his heart would just hurt so bad 😭 rly it would, but to just hear u say u haven’t done like anything?? these past few days, cleaning, eating, laundry, or just going outside — this is not okay with him!!! he’ll order something for u & let u go take a shower/bath while he puts some of ur things in the laundry,, soobin wants u to relax and when u finish eating and close ur eyes to sleep,, he will begin on cleaning the place up 😣 he wants to take rly good care of u, the thought of u unhappy or sick and whatnot it literally hurts him to think of that, especially bc of school??? soobin hates school more than ever now

beomgyu will be coming over for his twice a week meet-up and he’s used to ur half clean half dirty place, but ur apartment is spotless?? there’s nothing in the sink, no food wrappers nada, no stray clothes on the ground so he’s like 🤨 something is wrong. then he remembers it’s time for exams and such + the added on school work and extra time spent studying??? like wtf??? beomgyu will find u on the bed, ur eyes are so tired and he can’t act like he hasn’t seen u like this before .. he’s seen this a few times - u disappear and u hole urself at ur place, beomgyu needing to talk u down and get u to come and rest. it pains him to see u so upset over being the perfect student, he could not care if u were as dumb as dirt (he appreciate the smarts too) but he thinks ur a pretty great student!!! gyu will pull u away from the screen and give u the tightest hug, which will probably lead to tears on ur part and he’ll pull u back on the bed. he already presumed u hadn’t ate or done anything for the week, so he already came prepared??? duh?? beomgyu know he can’t feel what you’re feeling or like help u thru all the rough patches, but u bet ur ass he will try his hardest to help u feel better or at least get u out of bed!!! he’ll talk for awhile, listen for the most part, and then gyu puts away everything so he can lay down on the bed without the stray papers and books poking him 🧍

taehyun is kinda used to it, he just seems like he wants to hear allll about u, the good and the bad and he is always checking up on you. he’ll know before hand about school and after a few days (he doesn’t wanna bother u he knows u like ur space sometimes and the last thing he would wanna do is interrupt ur zen mode during school cause he’d hate it if someone did that to him too) taehyun knows it’s time for him to go over to your house. u live in dorms with a friend, but it’s pretty empty most of the time and the house is cluttered but it’s usually like that,, however ur room is just .. a mess. he has to stop himself from thinking like wow this is bad, taehyun would never want to think bad of you — just sometimes he ponders on these small thoughts. he doesn’t interrupt u, he gives ur head a few pats before sitting on ur bed and watching u. he gets the feeling u haven’t been taking care of urself whatsoever, so he heads off to the kitchen for a water and an apple, very simple which taehyun doesn’t think you would refuse. when he deems its time to rest only five minutes later, there’s the whines because u don’t want to but taehyun insists. u can always finish tomorrow, or in a few hours if u be quiet .. u might cry or just stay silent, whatever it is — he’ll lay there quietly with you and he’ll just toy with your baby hairs before his hand rests on ur cheek, giving you a kiss that makes really anything feel better .. it’s all temporary because taehyun knows there definitely will be more tests and stress in the future, but he always has time in order to help u out.

huening kai 😭 well for starters, idk i feel like he’d be just a smidge sad that u didn’t tell him about these things .. but nonetheless he is over in a heart beat upon your phone call!! well he actually stays on the line the whole time for u, mostly because hyuka knows how nervous u are and he just wants u to not be alone :(( he has been there for a few anxiety attacks + he knows the feelings of stress from school all too well, so he wants to go out of his way to do these things for you. he’ll be so quick to come to u inside, asking silenty if u want to be touched or just left alone :( at that point ur heaving and huening kai is kind of petrified to leave u alone, so he just gets water and turns on the fan before coming back and sits there before easing into a hug, he can quite literally feeling ur heart nearly beating out of ur chest, but ur arms weakly wrap around him and huening kai is just like 🥺 because yes u r very cute but he feels awful for u!!! he’ll share a few words, mumbling to u and rubbing ur back because obviously u won’t go bounce back immediately but he treats u like u hung the moon!!!!!!! as for the fact he knows u haven’t done anything, the first evidence being yes your oily hair, hyuka is more comfortable with staying there until u fall asleep & then he’ll sneak off to make u something in the kitchen to make u something and then come to wake u up, it might be very simple like ramen 😭 but he puts all the effort and knowledge he has to make u happy

[wrenhyperfixates]

Doubt Comes In

Requested by anon: Hey!! Can you maybe right a fic where the reader is having a panic attack and Loki finds them and helps them or maybe where they’re having a panic attack and they go as Loki for help. Whichever you’re drawn to I’d love either. Thanks sm, sorry to bother. You’re amazing btw Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When depression and anxiety get the better of you, Loki is there to help you through it. Warnings: Talk of self-harm, depression, and panic attacks, as well as a brief mention of suicide. If any of these things upset you, please do not read. A/N: This is the first request I’ve ever gotten, so thank you to the lovely anon that sent this in. Sorry that I added some things to your request, but I’d already started writing this and felt that they worked well together. Hopefully I still did your request justice :)

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

There were days where you just had to shut yourself away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the world. The first time you did this, it alarmed the rest of the team who were used to you being one of the most social of the group. You seemed to have infinite patience for the people who stopped you on the street, both fans and media alike. During parties, you could be found with a large group of people, nodding along and adding your own thoughts where they seemed appropriate. Of course, if anyone bothered to look close enough, they would have seen that your smiles were just a little too bright, and your responses just a little too polite. No one ever did, though, so you suffered in silence.

On days like today when depressive thoughts claimed your mind, the whole act was too hard to put on. The team had come to know times like this as your sick day, though they were all suspicious of the flimsy excuses you made when you told them that’s all it was. Just a stomach bug, you’d say one time. Another, a minor headache supposedly plagued you. Nothing to worry over, you assured them. Out of respect to you and the space you obviously needed, they hardly ever questioned you any further.

You tried to calm the shakiness of your breaths as you made your way to the kitchen. Tony had taken the rest of the team out for mini-golfing, something you usually would have been ecstatic to take part in. Even if you had to force a smile for strangers, you were genuinely happy to do things with your friends. It was just the overwhelming feeling of worthlessness that kept you from joining them today. You did your best to ignore your feelings, which always left you on a hollow sort of auto-pilot. Staring blankly into the fridge you opened upon arriving in the kitchen, you tried to force yourself to find something you wanted to eat. You knew you needed some kind of sustenance, but somehow your brain always convinced itself you didn’t deserve to eat when in a mood like this. You grabbed a berry smoothie that you knew you probably wouldn’t finish and headed to a common room couch.

The view was much better here than from your room and you were glad that everyone else was out, allowing you to wallow anywhere in the Tower, not just your bedroom. You hated to be inside at all, let alone cooped up in your room, on a day as nice as this. Going out, though, meant you ran the risk of running into someone. So, you leaned back and felt the warm sun filtering in from the large windows wash over your skin, and opened the cap of your drink. You managed to take a few sips before setting it down on the table in front of you. That relentlessly chipper voice in your head told you that if you weren’t going to eat, you should at least finish the smoothie, but it was met with an even louder, more persistent voice telling you that you shouldn’t. You peered at the pinkish liquid and managed to take one more gulp before setting it back down. It was better than nothing, you figured.

Psychoanalyzing yourself never really ended well for you. You had a nice home, friends that were practically family, and pretty much anything you could ever want. So why the fuck were you so messed up? Deep down, you knew it was in a large part, if not wholly, due to your home life from before becoming an Avenger. Your parents would tell you to talk to them, to express your emotions, but the second you did, they told you it was wrong to feel that way. To just stop feeling like that without any clue as to how to do that. It left you drowning in emotions too difficult to repress, in a house filled with screaming matches between people who supposedly loved each other. Eventually those screams gave way to icy glares and clipped conversations. You quickly learned your place in a house like that: Listen to everyone else’s problems and deal with your own, on your own.

You were trembling now, just like days long past in your childhood home. You still remembered times you just collapsed into a ball on the floor behind closed doors, silent sobs racking your body. You weren’t so quiet now that you didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing. Hands trembling, you reached into your back pocket as you remembered the other way you used to deal with your emotions. You held the Swiss Army knife in your hands and stared at your red eyes reflected in the unforgiving metal. You weighed the pros and cons of what you were about to do, but right now you were only interested in the relief it could offer you. You’d deal with the guilt after.

Before you could bring the blade down to meet your tender flesh, a hesitant voice called your name. Your head whipped around to meet eyes just as raw and red as your own. It made the green of his irises pop.

“Loki,” you gasped, hastily standing up. His eyes flitted down to the knife still in your hand, and you quickly hid it behind your back. “I can leave if you want.”

“No. You stay, I will go. Unless, that is, you wouldn’t mind if I...if I joined you?”

You still didn’t particularly feel like talking to anyone, but staying alone now meant that you would hurt yourself. The part of you that desperately did not want to go back down that road beckoned Loki to sit next to you on the plush cushions. He didn’t press for any more information, and you both sat in the silence, sniffling for the next half hour. After a few deep breaths, you gently placed one of your hands on his.

“Are you alright?” your raw voice said, cutting through the stillness of the room.

Loki laughed, though not unkindly. Something flashed across his features, but you hadn’t spent enough time with him to know the nuances of his expressions. True, you’d been getting closer with him these past few months, and he ranted to you about some of his troubles such as disagreements with his brother, but you’d never seen him in a state quite like this.

“And why, my sweet mortal,” he said, picking up your hand and holding it in both of his own, “should you have to worry about that when you are so obviously distressed yourself?”

There was nothing you could do to stop the tears that burst forth from you. Slowly, Loki wrapped you in a hug and stroked your hair.

“It’s alright,” he cooed. “I am right here. You can trust me.”

“I’m just-just so worthless!” you shouted between hysterical sobs. “I can’t even deal with my feelings properly. Everyone would be better off if I was dead.”

“Do not say such things!” Loki said with a sudden fury, grabbing your shoulders and pulling your body away from his so he could bring his face level with yours. Not that you could see him through your tears and hands, which were rubbing your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the deluge. “If you were to leave, you would be missed by anyone who has ever known you. Your family. Your friends. Me.”

Apologies fell from your lips, almost in a chant. He shushed you, returning to gently hugging you after his own emotional outburst. You stayed like that for the better part of an hour until your sobs subsided and turned to shaky breaths.

“Darling, look at me,” Loki said when he felt you’d calmed down enough. “You matter. You need to hear that. You deserve to hear it. You matter.”

You barely manage to stop another round of tears from taking over your body. “Thank you,” you croaked out. “I don’t think anyone’s ever let me know that before.”

Actually, you knew they hadn’t. For most of your life, people never even bother to check if you were ok. You’d been told that crying was wrong, and you’d never been allowed to weep into someone’s arms as Loki had just allowed you to.

“It is no problem, my dear. In fact,” Loki started, but trailed off, tears forming in his own eyes.

“Talk to me,” you said with rapt attention, ready to be his shoulder to cry on.

“I understand what you are feeling all too well. That feeling of worthlessness... It is all-consuming. And it is ok that you feel this way, but you must know that you can work past it.

“I don’t know how,” you whispered.

“Remember all the good you put into the world. And do not say that you you haven’t contributed anything; I know you have. Think of times when you have helped me. When you have saved the city. Even when you have held the door open for someone. It all counts, and it all matters.”

You contemplated his words and slowly nodded. After a whispered ok passed your lips, Loki lifted you and placed you on his lap. He rested his head on your shoulder and, in turn, you placed your head on his own.

“And,” he added, his breath tickling your ear, “if you cannot think of anything, come find me. But do not ever even think of harming yourself again.”

You nodded and snuggled in even closer to him, enjoying the peace for as long as you could. Soon, the rest of the Avengers returned to the Tower. You made some small talk with them before excusing yourself to your room. Loki was waiting for you in the hallway with a tray of food that he sheepishly passed to you when you reached him.

“How did you know?” you questioned the god, wide-eyed. Never before had someone noticed your poor eating habits when depression set in.

“I am the same way myself,” he responded with a distant look of sadness and resignation on his features.

You thanked him and stood there awkwardly for a few minutes, neither of you really knowing what to say. Finally, he took your hand and placed a gentlemanly kiss to your knuckles, and with a promise to check on you tomorrow, Loki took off down the hall.

You managed to finish the sandwich he brought you before collapsing on your mattress and falling into a restless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been months since you’d first opened up to Loki. After a little while, he finally confided in you, too. Most days, things were better for the both of you now that there was someone to talk to about it all. Despite your best efforts, you fell for him. Hard. You just couldn’t help it, not when he felt so safe. Not when he felt like home. That’s why you hastily agreed to a date when he asked you out after teary, late-night confessions of love.

Tonight was the night of your first date and you knew he had something amazing planned. You should have been over the moon, but some nasty voice in your head was keeping you from that feeling of elation. It kept telling you that you were going to screw things up and drive Loki away. You didn’t doubt that he cared about you, but you certainly didn’t understand why he did either. He was a god, for crying out loud, and you were just, well, you. Trying to still your shaking hands as you put on your shoes, you reminded yourself of all the tender words Loki whispered to you. Unfortunately, your mind was quick to warp those thoughts, telling you that they were probably lies. That’s what he was the god of, after all.

Suddenly, you realized what was happening to you. You’d experienced it once before; you recognized it in the uncontrollable shaking of your hands and shortness of breath. You attempted to calm yourself down before it got too bad but to no avail. Before you knew it, you were hyperventilating, tears streaming down your face. You wanted to call out for help, but the words wouldn’t come. Then came the crashing sensation of impending doom. Your mind was a jumbled mess, repeating over and over again desperate pleas for it to stop.

A knock sounded at your door, but you barely heard it over your own thoughts. So deep into this pit of despair, you couldn’t pull yourself out to answer whoever was there. Through bleary eyes, you saw a flash of green in your room, and soon you were caught in a loving embrace.

“Look at me, darling,” Loki said. “I am here now. Just breathe. It will all be ok.”

He continued to whisper calming things in your ear as you gasped for air, the panic attack subsiding. Slowly, the rest of the world came back into focus and you grounded yourself, staring straight ahead and concentrating on Loki’s soothing hands rubbing circles on your back. As you calmed down, you noticed he was softly singing in a language you didn’t recognize. Still, though, he sounded beautiful.

“It’s something my mother used to sing to me when I was a child,” he explained after finishing the song, the comforting melody still ringing in your ears.

“Will you sing it again, please?”

He obliged and this time you hummed along, a small smile playing at your lips. You were still shaking when he scooped you up and placed you on the bed. He pulled your back against his chest as he continued the Asgardian song.

“Our date,” you gasped, suddenly remembering your plans for the night. “I’m so sorry.”

“Do not apologize, my sweet. After all, I see no reason why we cannot still have our date.”

With a snap of his fingers, you were both in your pajamas, and pizza boxes were resting on your nightstand. You smiled at Loki as he stared in confusion at the TV remote. You giggled and helped him flip through the channels, before settling on The Wizard of Oz. You were glad to know that no matter how many times your mind was filled with doubt, Loki would help you through it. The safety you provided for each other was so precious to you that you wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“Hey Loki?” you said as the movie was finishing. “What did that song from earlier mean?”

And so he began to sing it again, this time in English so you could understand the words.

Don’t worry, sweet darling, do not cry Let me wipe those tears from your eyes Don’t fear, sweet darling, do not fight Let me hold you; everything’ll be all right

You gazed at him with admiration in your eyes. He looked away as a slight blush colored his pale cheeks, but you cupped his face and brought your lips to meet his in a sweet kiss.

“Rest now, my love,” he said after you had to break away for air.

The complete fatigue you felt made you follow his gentle command as he sang you off to sleep.

[sweetsubharry]

Hey Lott! Any chance you could grace us with a punk Louis fic rec? That would literally make my day! (No rush). Thank you sm<3 you are amazing

Hiya! awh that’s so kind of you to say! I would love to!!! I love punk Louis au!! I hope you like this! 💖 ^-^

please remember to stay safe and read the tags everyone!

In All Its Imperfections by BriaMaria 

Hello!

I’ve asked the front desk and you lovely folks are the ones who are on the same level as me in the car park. I found a to-do list today that looked somewhat important because it has lines of poetry scribbled at the bottom that seemed like they might be for a card project. The stationary has a moose in a canoe at the top of it (and he is quite adorable). Let me know if it’s yours!

Cheers!

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Harry whispered, his eyes darting over the sentences again willing them not to make sense. They did, they did make sense. “Oh. My. Bloody. Fucking. God.”

The next thing he knew he was on the floor, staring at the ceiling, with a very concerned Liam hovering over his head.

"What happened, mate?" Liam asked.

Harry just pointed to his computer.

Liam bent over Harry’s desk to read the email. “What? This isn’t bad. Is that your to-do list? Did you finally come up with the inside text for those cards?”

“Leeyum" he groaned. “It’s what’s on the list.”

“Oh,” Liam paused for a beat. “Is it dirty stuff?”

Harry nodded.

There was more silence. And then, “Dirty stuff with Louis?”

Give Me Truths by iwillpaintasongforlou

'Just like a little cat,' Louis thought later, as he drifted off to sleep. 'A little kitten with his claws sunk right into me.' It isn’t that terrible of a thought, after all. ............. Louis is a psychology student with a tattoo count as high as his genius IQ. Harry is in a (sort-of) relationship with a homophobic man and hates himself a little more every day. Things fall apart and Louis puts him back together.

Or, the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

tell me that I'm wrong but I do what I please by moonlightlouis

au where Harry and Louis are in a relationship and someone hurts louis' baby so he defends his honor

but he cant be what you need (if he's eighteen) by lingerielarries

“I need you to do something for me.” Harry said, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

“It seems like you’re asking me to kill for you, H.” Louis laughed nervously.

“It’s nothing that drastic, I promise. It’s just. I don’t think it’s a secret that I’m not a.. normal eighteen year old.” Louis furrowed his eyebrows at that, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy.

“Are people giving you a hard time?” Louis wondered. Harry shifted in his seat and brushed some of his fringe off his forehead.

“Yeah, that’s. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Harry swallowed nervously. He could feel the sweat pooling at his hairline so he wiped it with the sleeve of his sweater. “I need you to uhm, pretend to be my boyfriend.”

or

the one where harry is sick of getting bullied and casts louis as the hot punk boyfriend to scare them away. louis needs harry to return the favor.

punk!louis and flowerchild!harry

the love is ours to make (so we should make it) by lingerielarries

“I’m.. Harry. I nanny? For Ernest and Doris?” Harry responded.

“A nanny? How old even are you? You look twelve.” Louis remarked. Something caught Louis’ eye, and a closer look revealed that Harry had a coat of pink nail polish on his fingers.

“Nineteen. I’m nineteen.” Harry replied.

“Right. Nineteen, wears pink, flower crowns and paints his nails. Who the actual fuck did my mum hire?”

or

the one where louis takes some time off from life to return home, only to be met with a strange boy in pink and a flowercrown as the nanny of his siblings.

You're So Square (Baby I Don't Care) by mmaree

“So does it say who my new co-counsellor is?”

“Yeah, it does.” Zayn doesn’t even try to hide his smirk and Louis just knows.

He sucks in a breath. “It’s that bloody Styles kid, isn’t it?”

Zayn starts cackling, and Louis takes a moment to rethink every life decision he’s ever made, figure out where he went wrong and why karma hates him so much.

“I’m stuck with Britain’s Biggest Boy Scout for the rest of the summer, aren’t I?”

***

Or a summer camp au where Louis tries to sort out whether he wants to murder or snog his perky co-counsellor.

Way to Your Heart by fallenflowercrowns

High school AU, where Louis is in a band and Harry likes to come to the rehearshals for no particular reason. Punk Louis with a lot of tattoos and everything. Shy Harry with an angel face and not many friends. Strangers to lovers. Quick sex in the rehearshals' room (just handjob or blowjob) Happy end.

Harry pines but is oblivious, Louis is a punk with a big heart, Ziam shag behind everyone's backs and Nick is actually not in love with Harry.

Your Nickel Ain't Worth My Dime by orphan_account

Louis just moved into a house next to Harry, and they have bedroom windows that face each other.

Piercing The Petals by orphan_account 

"You're really pretty."

"Thanks Lou." Harry blushed. Louis couldn't help but smirk at the boy with flowers on his brown locks.

"Tell you what, If you let me fuck you into this mattress, I'll make you a new crown. Whichever flower you want. Colours and all." And Harry didn't need to be told twice before he started stripping.

The Moments When My Good Times Start to Fade by paintsplatteredteardrops

Where Harry is a flower child who works in a bakery and Louis is a guitarist who has no idea what it is he wants.

Because We Can by KrisStylinson

Harry's the bizzare new kid who likes flowers too much, Louis' the epitome of punk who's not as smooth as he seems. Those two things shouldn't mix as beautifully as they do.

A nice, long journey through Harry and Louis' intersecting lives, starting with the day they meet in high school—including meddling friends, a Styles-Tomlinson family Christmas, a first time, and a couple's holiday in Paris.

i’d burn this city down to show you the light by you_explode

Harry's a sheltered rich kid and Louis's a punk with a heart of gold. They meet when Louis breaks into Harry's house, Harry obtains an instant and all-encompassing crush, and they spend the summer falling into a whirlwind romance.

Forget Your Ex by RainbowSkinnies

He just had to get right back on the horse, that’s what Harry kept telling himself. It was what Nick had told him he should do too, because after all, wasn’t that the way to get over someone; to get under someone else? Sayings like that had to exist for a reason...

When Harry's boyfriend of two years leaves him for someone else, it's fair to say he's rather a bit upset, but his friends have a solution for him. Nick and Niall are hosting a start of term house party at their flat, having invited everyone they know from uni. Who knows, with a bit of luck Harry can find a rebound shag and finally forget his ex...

[meetthefatess]

hello would you be able to give a quick summary of the parts of itg that are not in the album but are in the book? feel free to ignore this if you are not comfortable doing that because that's totally fair.

Oh sure! I’ll break it down by scene like they do in the script

(This actually ended up kind of long, I apologize, but there’s so many sweet moments between Jutta and the Hildegards even though it ended like it did)

Prologue: Includes Virga Ac Diadema & Death Ceremony

In between the two songs we get a conversation between Hildegard’s mother and Volmar, the monk she is given to & who helps entomb her. Mother explains that Hildegard is sick and hasn’t spoken since her sister died so the family can’t take care of her. Volmar shows the cell to Mother and assures her that Hildegard’s basic needs will be met (“she’ll be technically dead, but super comfortable.”)

Hildegard is a puppet at this time (played by Hannah Whitney) and does not speak.

In the Cell: includes If I Had a Knee & The Rule

Before both songs, Jutta and Hildegard (now in pieces) are alone. Jutta introduces herself and tries to get Hildegard to talk (“we’re going to play this game?”). That interaction leads directly into If I Had a Knee which is immediately followed by The Rule.

Years Pass I:

No songs! Just a short interlude that repeats some of the lyrics from the rule (essentially “watch wait try dig” & some other motifs set to music to represent time passing. If that makes sense?)

Bodies: includes I Am Hungry and Eve

The mouth portion! Essentially! Very cool part imo.

After I Am Hungry is sung, the Hildegards tell Jutta they aren’t feeling very well and start panicking when they realize they are bleeding (started their period) and tell Jutta they’re dying and she has to call for help. Mouth also says “I think I’m being punished. Agathe, my sister, she died from something like this” which is the first time Hildegard talks about Agathe.

Jutta calms them down and explains that they’ll be fine in a few days. She also talks about the first time it happened to her and how it got her out of going to a “stupid party” her family was holding. So she danced in her room by herself.

Jutta and Mouth connect about hating going to those parties and being paraded around, so Mouth says “maybe it’s not so bad to bleed” and Jutta Very Much disagrees. Jutta explains that bleeding means they are now a target to be hunted and that they have to stunt it (by not eating) for Hildegard to be in control. This leads into Eve.

Years Pass II:

No “songs”, similar short interlude to the first one showing the passage of time

Rituals: includes Ritual and Little Life

Eye portion!! One of my favourites too honestly

Ritual is sung as Eye and Hand help dig a hole. After the song Jutta walks over and praises Eye’s work. Eye accepts the compliment but is a little upset saying she doesn’t get the point of digging for no reason and asks Jutta why they’re doing it.

Jutta tells her they’re digging their grave and they all freak out. Eye says she thought they were making room for a garden (😭) and asks Jutta, “why am I digging my grave??” which leads into Little life.

After Little Life we get one of my FAVOURITE bits of dialogue where Eye says, “what can I lose if I’m already broken?” and Jutta goes “you can start with that attitude.” I just think it’s so fucking funny.

But anyways, Jutta says that Eye needs to watch for her weakness, the part of her that hates the work, and when she finds it, that’s what she’ll bury. Jutta says she buried her own “weakness; it’s unnecessary” which is our first reference to Shadow. This is where Jutta tells Eye not to blink (or sleep) anymore in order to gain control.

Years Pass III:

Same as the others!

The Past Intrudes: includes Sun Song, In The Green, and Burial

Hand part? Kind of?

Eye and Mouth are very tired and hungry and just want to take a break. Hand notices and convinces them to rest for a little while. Jutta sees them and asks what’s going on and Hand manages to convince her that they’ll be able to work better if they have a little time to refresh. Once Jutta relents, a beam of sunlight falls through the window and Sun Song starts.

Sun Song leads right into In The Green and we see Shadow on the stage for the first time.

After In The Green the Hildegards ask Jutta what happened and she gets defensive and denies anything did, saying she let them down when she let them rest (“You will forget all the nonsense you think you saw. You will get back to work, stay awake, shut your maw, and you’ll work even harder to make up for the time you lost.”)

Hand stands up for Eye and Mouth which starts her big argument with Jutta. Hand says Jutta’s methods aren’t working and at first Jutta seems desperate (“You will be whole and I will see the light.”) but gets very upset when Hand asks her what the light even means and how she knows if it’s real (“Jutta, what about sunlight? Can’t we go outside and see it? You said it helped you once, maybe that’s all you need!”) which uhhhh does not go over well. Their shouting leads into Burial and bro this part is so emotional.

Underground: includes Underground, Confession, Sun Song Reprise, Light Undercover, The First Verb, and O Viridissima Virga

Before Underground starts the Hildegards see Shadow and recognize her from In The Green. They ask her who she is and she says “I’m Jutta. I live here.” She says Jutta buried her and asks if Jutta buried them too. The Hildegards say they are broken too and that they can’t take back what they did.

This is also the first reference of Shadow as Jutta’s bones and how the Hildegards realize Jutta is still broken.

Underground starts and leads right into Confession. After Confession Shadow asks the Hildegards what Agathe said to her before she died, but tells them they don’t have to tell her if they don’t want to. This leads into Sun Song Reprise and the rest of this part is sung through.

Rebirth: includes Light Undercover/In The Green Reprise, The Ripening, and Forgiveness

The Hildegards make it back up to the cell with Shadow and find Jutta sitting in the middle of the room where she had in Sun Song instead of at her Prie-dieu (where she sits and prays between songs earlier in the show).

Jutta doesn’t notice Shadow at first and gets up and starts apologizing to Hildegard for yelling and says they can work slower and she can wait to see the light if it would help them.

The Hildegards are so excited about finding the light with Shadow they tell her she doesn’t have to wait and start singing Light Undercover/In The Green reprise to Jutta.

At the end of the Light Undercover portion when they start singing “You are the light” to Jutta she gets upset and says “How dare you tell me what I am”

Then the In The Green portion starts she pretends she doesn’t see Shadow until she starts panicking and saying “Stop it.” until the end of the song where Shadow says “I want you to see me,” to her (the parallel to Sigewize saying the same thing in Exorcism hits SO hard)

Right before The Ripening, after Jutta has made Shadow leave the stage, Jutta says “I should never have let you in here with me. I don’t need you.” to the Hildegards which OUCH. Jutta exits the stage (dies) which leads into Forgiveness.

The Other Tithe: includes Integration

We are back outside the cell and Volmar knocks after hearing the Hildegards singing. He talks to Hildegard (now just Hannah) through a window and tells her it’s been 30 years and that Richardis will be joining her and Jutta in the cell.

Hildegard tells him Jutta is dead but is excited when Volmar says the door is going to be opened. The door opens and Hildegard emerges. She says she doesn’t want to stay in there because it was Jutta’s choice not hers (Volmar: “Jutta was pious!” Hildegard: “Jutta was suffering!” Which is some more of my fav dialogue).

Hildegard convinces the Marchioness (Richardis’ mother) to let Richardis stay with her in the monestary instead of in the cell. The Marchioness and Volmar eventually agree which leads into Integration.

Exorcism: includes Exorcism:

Just the song!

Again very sorry this is so long and rambly, I just love this show sm & couldn’t bear to leave some of my fav pieces of dialogue out.

[jaehyunspeachparty]

The public (m)

"How was your vacation?" Jisoo asked, putting a stack of documents on the table. "Good ..." You smile and flip through the papers. "I heard from accounting that your last name was changed." Jisoo grinned and waited for an explanation. "WOW, rumors are spreading pretty quickly here." You raise your eyebrows, but Jisoo didn't move. "Okay ... I got married. Secretly." You sigh and you wish you could tell her more. "OH MY GOD! Can you finally say who it is?" Jisoo bobbed impatiently on her knees, but you shake your head. "No, we still have to discuss this with his company." "AHHHH! I can't wait to see him. He must be sooooo famous." Jisoo had been gushing all the time, but suddenly your boss was standing in front of the door and Jisoo immediately jumped and left the room. "Did you enjoy your vacation? I heard you married." Your boss sat down in the chair opposite you and clasped his hands. "Yes, it was spontaneous, but we wanted to keep it small anyway." You smile and push your papers aside. "Well, I'm actually here for something else. You have done a very good job here. Thanks to you, the relationship with SM has become even better, so that they almost exclusively book us and we are now well above the expected numbers." "I am glad to hear that." You smile and now turn your full attention to him. "And now I'm making you an offer that I'll never do again. But I'm offering you a partnership with this company here." You look at him in surprise, you didn't expect that. He took an envelope out of his pocket and pushed it over to you. "I'll be back in your office in a week. Then I want an answer." He got up and shook hands with you. "Wow thanks, I have no words." "You did a really good job and I would love to work more with you. See you next week." He nodded and then left the room. You open the letter and look at the numbers. It's not a little money, but you would have it.

In the evening you lie in bed and see a little bit of Netflix. It was Friday night, but you were incredibly tired. That's why Jaehyun decided to come to you the night. He had a meeting about your marriage at lunchtime and it was discussed whether and how he would publish it. So you lie in bed and wait for him, but even though you were tired, you were also hungry. First you call Jaehyun to bring you something, but he didn't answer. Annoyed you lie down in bed and throw yourself in your pillows. You absolutely wanted chocolate. Your breasts also hurt and you were sure that your period would come in the next few days. You were torn, tired of staying in bed or eating chocolate. You are so annoyed at this moment that you no longer have sweets at home. But in the end your cravings were stronger and you quickly decide to go down to the convenience store. So you quickly pull something over it and quickly go shopping. A young man was at the counter and smiled when he saw your amount of chocolate. You quickly put your things out of your pocket and want to run out of the store immediately, but then you run into someone. But when you look up, you see Jaehyun. "Are you in a hurry?" He smiled and looked into your eyes. "How did you know I was there?" You grin and get close to his lips. You don't see much of him. He was wearing a black hoodie with a hood over his head. "I saw you in the window when you cleared almost the entire chocolate shelf." He laughs and strokes your back. "I think I'll have my period tomorrow. I have terrible cravings." You sigh, but Jaehyun kissed you. And this kiss had it all. He showed so much desire, passion and love. But still, he quickly broke away from you. "Let's go up. Then I can take good care of you." He grinned and took your hand. You quickly go to your apartment complex, but it took a while for the elevator to come. But Jaehyun could hardly wait. He pressed you against the wall and he pressed his lips to yours. His hand ran along the inside of your thigh and your breath stayed away. The next moment, when everything got so intense, the bell rang and the elevator door opened. Jaehyun pushed you in, turned you and quickly pushed your sweatpants down. He opened his pants and he was already inside you. It was something new, something you have never done before. You just had sex in the elevator. Jaehyun kept pushing you against the wall and you could hardly suppress your groan. But before you were on your floor, the door opened again. You both look over in surprise and see an old woman looking at you in shock and holding her hand over her mouth. "Disgusting!" She screamed as the door closed and you both laughed. "Oh my god. We got caught," you said, looking over at Jaehyun. "Come on, let's go to the apartment quickly." The door opened again and you quickly disappear.

After you have finished the action from the elevator in bed, you lie on his bare chest and happily eat your chocolate. "I think I have to move soon after the old woman sees us." You laugh and look up at your husband. "Yes, we should look around for a new apartment tomorrow." He smiled and gently stroked your hair. "How was the meeting. What actually came out?" You sit up slowly and look at him seriously. Jaehyun sighed and looked at you. "They'll be sending out a press release tomorrow at noon. Chen has already given me a few tips. It's going to be a tough week." "Can I do something?" You look at him with concern, but he shook his head. But he shook his head. "No, just be here." He kissed you gently and you nod. But then he cleared his throat and you realize that he still wants to address something. "I know we said we were trying to have a child, but since you are not pregnant ... can we maybe wait a year or two? The company said it would be good if I could do a little bit more of promotion. " It was really difficult for him to say that and of course you found it sad. But Jaehyun had taken up so much for your marriage that you agree. "It's okay. I can wait." You smile gently and he kissed you again with relief.

Before SM publishes the statement about your wedding, you quickly take the opportunity to have breakfast with Jaehyun's parents. Neither of you had seen them since you were back. They knew about the wedding, but you wanted to publish it again. But when you get ready, you have to throw up. "I think that was too much chocolate yesterday." You sighed and wiped your mouth. "I was surprised anyway how much chocolate you could squeeze and couldn't throw up earlier." Jaehyun laughed and gently stroked your shoulder. "I think it's the nerves too. Your parents and the announcement ..." You sigh and take your toothbrush. Jaehyun stood next to you and nodded. "I'm nervous too ..." He leaned against the bathroom tiles, which were pleasantly cool in contrast to his heated body. "We can do it okay?" You smile gently and Jaehyun kissed your cheek.

You were better prepared at this meeting. You dressed elegantly and forbade Jaehyun to touch you all the way to the restaurant. Not that you get caught doing something that his parents should never see. You meet in a small restaurant near the apartment where Jaehyun grew up. You two were nervous, but you held on to your hands. But you felt still sick and would like to throw up again. Jaehyun's parents got up when they saw you, but they didn't smile. You had to swallow and it all became more uncomfortable. He hugged them, you shake hands with them. Then you sit down and order first. It was still quiet ... too quiet. "Mum, Dad. I know I already told you, but we want to officially announce again that we got married." Jaehyun took your hand firmly and you could almost feel his pulse through his pressure. "Secretly ..." His father looked at you and it was getting more uncomfortable. "Yes, it was spontaneous, but with Jaehyun's fame we thought it was difficult anyway and my family is difficult too. It was easier for us ..." You try to explain your background, but the parents were still not happy. "Easier ..." his mother laughed contemptuously. "Mum ... we wanted it that way." Jaehyun couldn't overlook his mother's anger. "You wanted that? You are our only son. You could have done a wedding for us. You know how important that is for us for our family. Think about your Grandmother. If Y/N was Korean, she would understand our culture and would never have persuaded you to do it that way." She was really upset and even had tears in her eyes. "I think we're going now," said his father, standing up. His mother nodded and followed too. "As long as she's not pregnant, divorce is still an option," she whispered in her son's ear before they left. You still look after them but when they disappear you burst into tears. You were never that emotional, but you couldn't hold back your tears this time. "They hate me," you sob, trying to wipe away the tears with the napkin. "No, they're just mad at me. They don't even really know you." He stroked your arm, but you were still sad.

In the late afternoon you lie in the bed of your apartment and look at apartment advertisements. "Look, it looks pretty good. Bedroom, living room, kitchen. And the location is good too." Jaehyun stroked your back and you click through the pictures. "Yes, it looks good. We can take a look at it." You smile gently, but the next moment his phone vibrated again. Since the statement came out, it has almost exploded. He got messages, calls, and so on. Sasaengs' numbers kept calling and threatening him in messages. "What do they say?" You ask when he picked up the phone. He read a few texts and then sighed. "As expected. My manager wrote to me that fans feel cheated, want me out of NCT, and so on." He sighed, but you take the phone away from him. "Come on, leave it. There's no point in reading through all of this." "I know it's just ... I knew it, but it's still hard." He lay down in bed and sighed. "Come on, I'll go down to the convenience store and get something good." You smile, but in reality your cravings are killing you. You still hadn't got your period and you're wondering when was the last time you had such cravings. It all felt like just before your period just a hundred times worse. "Hmm yes, can you take Soju with you?" Jaehyun looked at you with sad eyes and you nod. You quickly take your bag and go down.

When you were standing in the store you wanted to buy all the sweets. You take something for Jaehyun and then you buy a basket full of unhealthy food. When the cashier, who was already there yesterday, scanned everything, you somehow felt like you had to justify yourself. "I know there are a lot of sweets ..." But the young man smiled and shook his head. "My girlfriend is pregnant too. She eats exactly the same things." You look at him with wide eyes and fall silent. How could you not think of this possibility? You were sure that you would get your period. But now everything became clearer to you. Your cravings, strong emotionality and the nausea. Could you really been pregnant? That would have happened very quickly. You thought it might take a few months. You quickly pack your things and run back to your apartment. Jaehyun was still in bed, looking through his phone. But you couldn't concentrate on that anymore. You throw the shopping bag onto the bed and start looking for something in the bathroom. "Y/N, what's up?" He asked, watching you panickedly search the shelf. But you don't say anything and keep looking until you find the packaging. The last time you had a pregnancy test left. "Y/N, what's that?" Jaehyun asked, and you took out the test strip. "A pregnancy test." You look at him with wide eyes. "What? I thought you were getting your period?" Jaehyun was a bit panicky like you. "I also thought...I just don't know. I just take the test." You send him out and close the bathroom door. First you take a deep breath, but then you open the cap of the test and pee on it. When you were done, you go out to Jaehyun and sit on the bed. Jaehyun knelt before you and stroked your arms. "Do you think you ...?" He was suddenly calmer and more relaxed. But you didn't have an answer. "I don't know ..." You start to sob because you couldn't control your emotions again. You see that the test was almost done and you lift the strip and look at the result. "And?" Asked Jaehyun, looking up at you. You take a deep breath and show him the display. "Pregnant."

About us masterlist

daddy jaehyun masterlist

[dxll-hxuse]

title ; 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 !

genre ; 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐤

warnings ; 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 (notify me if i missed anything)

focus character(s) ; 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐠 “𝐠𝐨𝐠𝐨”, 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐚 ( @starfall-grls )

other/mentioned characters ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐢 𝐤𝐢𝐦, 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

date ; 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎

word count ; 𝟏.𝟖𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

— ‘ the moon: deception, difficult period, fear, hidden things, insecurity

the drama was starting to die down finally. it had been almost a month after the whole taeyoung shade situation happened and people had finally started focusing on other things and were slowly forgetting about the boy’s words. margot couldn’t say if she was glad or not. on the one hand, she loved to watch people drag his name through the mud, but on the other, she was getting sick of some people dragging sora’s name as well. but people were starting to forget it, finally. she could finally go on twitter without reading someone’s “hot take” about the situation.

margot couldn’t lie about the fact that she genuinely wanted to know how sora was doing. she’s probably enraged, of course, anyone who knew her well knew that sm’s statement was total horse shit. she seriously had no clue how sora hadn’t beaten taeyoung to a bloody pulp already. if this were to happen a few years back, margot wouldn’t be surprised if she saw sora on the news being arrested for taeyoung’s murder.

margot tried to act indifferent about the whole thing but she could tell that her members knew the situation bothered her. they asked some questions but margot didn’t give much insight so they gave up trying. a few of margot’s nights were spent staring at sora’s contact number, wondering if it’s still the same as 5 years ago, thinking about what would happen if she tapped the call button after so many years.

this was one of those nights. the dorm was silent, everyone was asleep, all that could be heard was the rustle and bustle of the city. margot’s stomach tied up in knots as she pondered whether to call her ex best friend or not. she wouldn’t even know what to say.

“if you don’t go to sleep now you’ll be in for a hell of a day tomorrow.” mumbled a sleepy chaeri from the other side of the room. after rubbing her eyes and sitting up straight on her bed, she focused on margot’s confused face. “we have rehearsals, remember?”

“oh, right.” margot had totally forgotten about that. she sighed, and chaeri laughed softly at margot’s disillusioned expression, “guess you’ll have to find another time to longfully stare at your ex best friend’s phone number for hours on end.”

margot’s eyes widened in surprise at the girl’s accuracy but her face quickly morphed into one of confusion. “how did you…?”

chaeri laughed, a little louder this time. “lucky guess? i don’t know, you’ve been acting off since the whole taeyoung and sora thing. and i can see the reflection of the phone keypad through your eyes. i just put two and two together.”

margot blushed a little sheepishly, “i haven’t been keeping you up too much, have i?”

“yeah, actually.” chaeri responded, starting to get comfortable in her bed. “your thoughts and anxieties are really loud. it makes me uneasy.”

margot was honestly left a little speechless.

as chaeri finished snuggling up, looking like she was about to fall asleep again, margot asked, “do you think i should call her?”. chaeri opened her eyes clearly still a little annoyed. she huffed and sat back up in her bed. she looked at margot dead in the eyes, margot was still terrified about how chaeri’s naturally comforting and sweet personality turned sour after not getting enough sleep.

“if you call her, maybe i’ll finally get some sleep again.”

margot blinked. she was expecting some sort of good advice from the group’s impromptu therapist, the level headed one. “that’s it? you think i should call her just because of that?”

chaeri could tell that margot was disappointed by her answer but shrugged, “i’m too tired to come up with a clever reason. but yeah, i think you should call her. if she screams at you, then you know never to bother her again. and if she wants to talk to you, then boom, friendship restored. either way i get my peace restored.” after saying all that, she started snuggling up again. “and go outside if you’re gonna call her.” she finished before closing her eyes again.

margot stared at the caller id for a bit longer before getting out of her bed, putting on slippers and a long cream cardigan to go outside in the girls’ backyard.

she pressed “call” and took in a shaggy breath. she put it on speaker and placed it on the floor, she started pacing back and forth as the haunting ringing coming from the phone kept getting louder in her ears, filling up her thoughts.

the phone went silent for a second, “the number you have called-“. the breath margot had been holding came out stifled. maybe it’s just too late in the night, she’s probably sleeping, she thought. or maybe she just hates me and doesn’t want to talk to me ever again.

margot picked her phone back up and locked it. well, at least i tried, she went to go back into the house when her phone started vibrating in her hand. she stares at it, absolutely gobsmacked at the sight before her.

sora’s name was displayed on her screen along with the ‘accept’ or ‘decline’ button. a thousand scenarios ran through margot’s head at the same time, maybe it’s not her phone number anymore and the owner is calling to let me know the number changed, was the imaginary reason she decided to stick with. she hesitantly pressed the ‘accept’ button. “hello?”

“hi? margot?” sora’s voice rang through the speaker. margot noted how alert she sounded even though it was almost two in the morning. “hi. hi, um.” she fumbled with her words a bit, “this must be weird for you, i’m sorry. i don’t know why i called you, it’s just my impulsivity. i’m sorry.”

“oh…” sora sounded a little resigned, like she wasn’t fully in the conversation, if you could even call margot’s nervous rambles a conversation. margot stopped for a moment “can i ask you a question. promise you won’t get annoyed?” margot’s voice softened while asking the question, she sat down on the stair step that she was previously pacing on.

some silence came from the other line before margot heard some shuffling, “yeah, ok.” sora sighed again, she seemed defeated and tired, though not in a physical way, more like mentally. “how...how are you?” margot felt weird asking but it was a question that had been running around in her mind ever since the taeyong thing blew up.

sora felt her eyes tearing up a bit, she didn’t know why exactly. maybe it was margot reaching out to her after all these years for seemingly no reason, or maybe it was the lack of sleep she was getting for months, or the whole weight of the scandal she was in finally coming down on her. she sucked her tears right back up just like her father always taught her. “i’m fine.” she choked out, very discreet, sora, she thought to herself.

“are you sure? i don’t mean to pry, i know we haven’t talked in a while but still, i’ve been worried about you this past month. this taeyong thing really isn’t bothering you?”

sora hadn’t talked about it with any of her members, she just wanted the whole thing to blow over as fast as possible. though, she wanted to talk to margot about it. she was still mad about the way they left things, and her brain was telling her to just hang up on her, but her heart desperately wanted to talk to someone. maybe margot calling after all these years was a sign.

“yeah, i guess. i’m pretty upset. i don’t know if those are the right words to describe what i feel, which is weird, i can always describe how i feel.” sora started thinking out loud, finally coming to terms with how she was feeling. as she admitted all of this to margot, she felt like she was admitting all of it to herself, as well. “usually you’re the one who has trouble identifying your feelings. is that still true?”

a small smile crept up on margot’s face, “yeah, you would always get annoyed at me for it.” she laughed, reminiscing about the girls’ time together as friends, the good times only. “i’m not sure what feelings i felt that let me to call you. i was hoping you could tell me.”

“i guess you were worried. i don’t know why though, you shouldn’t have sympathy for someone who treated you like i did. i always told you to not settle for anything less than yourself.”

margot was a little stunned, she didn’t know if her small gasp conveyed that. “are my ears deceiving me? is jung sora referring to herself as less than someone else?” knowing sora, margot probably shouldn’t have pried, but she subconsciously yearned for the times they could poke fun at each other without it escalating into full blown fights, so she let herself regress into those times and made the taunting comment.

if it was any other person, sora would’ve been offended, she would’ve gone the fuck off, if it was any other person. margot feeling comfortable joking with her like how they used to somehow meant everything. she smiled, she didn’t know what was happening to her tonight but she decided to throw all her initial, defensive responses out the window, just for tonight, at least. she didn’t want to carry the burden of unhinged fire on her tongue, just for tonight.

she scoffed, feigning offense, “well i never! i’ve never in a million years said such a thing! you’re becoming a mad woman right before our eyes!” she said all this in a (very bad) old timey fancy accent, to underline the dramatic sarcasm she was performing.

the two laughed in unison before comfortable silence overtook the conversation. “i’ve missed you.” margot’s sharp and shaky words tore through the silence.

“fuck. don’t make me be soft like this.” sora felt the hot tears well up in her eyes again, she really did miss margot. she sighed, forgetting all her problems and worries. in that moment, margot’s warm words melted sora’s cold exterior. all sora wanted to do was start over. “...i miss you too.”

— ‘ now playing: hug all your friends by cavetown