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#i only know a few of their songs actually but they remind me of my dad pointing them out when they were on the radio
hella1975 · 9 months
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girls will say they’re tough shit until 7 by catfish and the bottlemen comes on
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i feel like you would be a big the guess who fan
I
WAS JUST
WATCHING/LISTENING
TO
ONE
OF
THEIR
SONGS
YESTERDAY
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kuiinncedes · 1 year
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well damn lol
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kitten4sannie · 3 months
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trendsetter
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reach for my goals, hit it dead center
pairing: idol ex! mingi x fem! reader
genre: an actual idol au omg, smut
summary: mingi reminds you why he was so hard to leave in the first place, well, the first few times, anyway.
w.c: 3.3k
bc i’m bigger, better
warnings: brief weed use/shotgunning (mingi’s a plug in another life btw <3), mingi’s kinda a dickhead and a master manipulator (damn double homicide), dom! mingi, subby! reader, mingi’s got a big cawk, glove ? kink? idk bro, exhibitionism, teasing, praise/degradation, pet names galore/name calling, tit play, spit, fingering, finger sucking (leads to some gagging), oral (giving), deep-throating, cum eating, grinding, kissing, size kink, breeding kink, mingi fucks reader raw on the hood of her own car hallelujahhhh
a/n: don’t blame me for this btw,, blame mingi mango and the things he’s been posting on ig 😮‍💨 this man makes me delirious istg. also i wrote this while incredibly sleep deprived just so yk !! there might be some grammar and spelling errors (as well as a general sense of lunacy ✨) regardless i hope you enjoy and please do let me know if you liked it bc feedback is like a treat for me and im a treat hungry lil goblin uwu <3
song recs: so damn into you by vlad holiday - come 2 me by johnny goth - liquid by boston manor
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Mingi barely made it two steps past one of the various emergency exit doors of the booming, hectic arena, dropping his lighter on the ground when his favorite ex suddenly came waltzing back into his life again after just swiftly exiting it for the nth time.
“Where are my car keys? I know you have them,” you abruptly confronted him, snatching the lighter from the ground before he could grab it and sliding it inside your tank top, right in between your tits.
“Why would I have your car keys, sugar?” Mingi sighed exasperatedly, walking in your direction until he towered over you, gently clasping his calloused hands around your upper arms so he could rub them up and down in an effort to calm you, gently turning you around until your back pressed into the cool metal of the emergency door. “Can you use that pretty little head of yours for me, Y/N? I just performed right now. I was busy rehearsing before that. Do you really think I would take your keys from you just to keep you from leaving?”
“Yes, I do. You always do some fuck shit like this when I try to leave. Every time, Mingi.” Despite the furrow of your brow and the contempt present within your words, you couldn’t help but watch as Mingi’s thumbs began to press into the sides of your tits. When you didn’t say anything, he began to press the rest of his gloved fingers into the softness of your chest.
“Some fuck shit like this?” Mingi asked under his breath, studying your flushed face to gauge your reaction as he squeezed your tits against the palms of his rough hands, rubbing his thumbs teasingly against the thin material of your sports bra until he felt your nipples harden. “You aren’t tell me to stop, baby. Cat got your tongue?”
“I hate you…” you whispered softly, not understanding why you never had the strength to deny him, even in a public, though empty alleyway, even after you just broke up with him only a little while ago.
“You don’t seem to hate this…Your body’s responding to me…” Mingi suddenly pinched your nipples through your sports bra, chuckling at the gasp you let out. He leaned down, bringing his lips to your ear to whisper, “I bet you don’t hate how wet I’m making you right now, either. Is your cunt throbbing for me already, Y/N?”
“N-no…” You bit into your bottom lip when your ex let out a disapproving ‘uh-uh’ as you turned your head to look away from him, squeezing your thighs together, hoping your arousal wouldn’t drip past your short skirt.
With one hand still clasped around your tit to play with it, Mingi brought the other up to grasp your chin, making you face him again, so close that you were breathing in each other’s air, your parted lips almost touching. “You’ll let me check to see if you’re lying, won’t you, sugar? Can I see how many fingers I can fit inside your tight little cunt?”
You hated how much your body and soul still burned for your lecherous ex, hated how desperate you suddenly were for him to have his way with you, but what you hated most of all was the way you whimpered out, “Please, Minnie.”
Mingi groaned softly at the use of his pet name, feeling most of his blood began to head below the belt, letting go of your chin, the both of you watching as his hand disappeared underneath your skirt. He instantly slipped two thick fingers inside you up to the knuckles, despite wearing a pair of thick leather gloves, the both of you moaning at the squelching sound your bare, wet cunt made. “That’s my girl. You wore this slutty little skirt and no panties just for me, didn’t you? You don’t even care about getting out of here with your keys. You just wanted me to put my hands all over you one last time, yeah?”
Just as you were about to respond, Mingi suddenly stuffed his leather-bound fingers into your mouth, making you taste your own warm wetness. “A-aaahn,” you moaned around his moving digits, feeling them slip along your hot tongue, looking up at your ex’s intensely dark gaze.
“Suck,” he simply requested, smiling fondly at the sight of your plush lips closing around his fingers, pushing them further and further back until he made you gag around them, his cock throbbing at the sight of your teary doe eyes. “Oh, baby, if you’re going to be looking at me like that and making those pretty noises, I’m gonna lose it…but, you can take it, right? My fingers in your throat?”
You whined softly, trying your best not to gag more around his moving fingers, relaxing your throat enough so that the only sound that could be heard was your moans and the abundance of saliva in your mouth.
“Good girl.” Mingi slipped his fingers out of your mouth and pressed his lips onto your cheek, whispering, “Can you take my cock down your throat next, pretty girl? I worked so hard to perform tonight, you know. Don’t you think I deserve head from my favorite ex?”
“Uh-huh,” you found yourself agreeing, your head still fuzzy from having his fingers inside your mouth, desperate to have something else warm and thick on your tongue, thankful for the heavy hand that began to push your head down until your bare knees were resting against the cold concrete below.
“Say ‘aaah’,” Mingi cooed darkly from above, expertly undoing his thick belt buckle and lowering his pants until his stiff, reddened cock smacked up into his abdomen. It was then that his hands were drawn to either side of your head, barely giving you enough time to open your mouth before he thrusted forward, the tip of his cock instantly hitting the back of your throat. “Fuckkkk, that’s a good slut. You don’t have to be my girlfriend to be my fuck toy, huh, baby?”
Your moans of approval were instantly muffled by the massive cock that was being stuffed inside your throat by your eager ex, as you reached up to grasp at his hips, the shiny lighter that was still sitting in between your tits starting to jostle around due to Mingi’s rough movements.
Suddenly reminded of his post-concert ritual, Mingi reached into his back pocket and placed a joint between his lips, then fished the lighter out from between your tits, but not before he squished one of them for the hell of it. He rolled the dial on the lighter a few times before a flame sparked, bringing it up and lighting the tip of his joint.
The strong aroma of Mingi’s flower reached you in an instant, having to blink your many tears away to watch him take a deep puff of it and blow it out into your face. Your lips tingling from the immense stretch, you sputtered around his pulsing cock, suddenly pulling away, letting your spit laced lips rest against his leaking tip, weakly licking at the pre-cum that spilled from it. “M-minnie…”
“Why’d you stop?” Mingi grunted, biting on the tip of the joint to keep it from falling from his lips, looking down at you with his sharp, slightly red eyes. Using his free hand to jerk himself off with his cockhead pressed to your lips and smearing his pre-cum over them just for his own enjoyment, he slowly realized what was up. “Oh, you want a hit? Aren’t you precious? Come here.”
Mingi slowly lowered himself down into a crouching position, letting go of his cock to grab your chin with his arousal coated fingers, taking in a deeper inhale, the majority of the joint turning to ash, just as he flicked it away into the gutter. He pressed his lips onto yours in an open-mouthed kiss, neither of you bothering to close your eyes as he slowly filled your lungs with smoke.
Just as you began to choke while trying to exhale all the smoke, Mingi dragged his tongue across your own and over your top set of teeth just because he felt like it, before standing back up. “I bet you’re feeling real good now, baby. That was top shelf.” He spat into the palm of his hand and lubed up his cock, before patting your cheek and sliding himself back into the hot haven that was your throat, not wasting a single second to begin pumping himself inside it again, almost like he had never stopped.
Now that both your body and brain were delightfully clouded with a heavy, lustful high, you felt like you could cum just from getting ruthlessly throat-fucked alone, your nails digging into Mingi’s bare hips, more and more tears and saliva dripping along your flushed skin the longer he abused your tiny throat with his oversized length.
“Fuck, I can’t handle it when you cry and drool like that just from sucking my cock, baby. I’m gonna fucking cum,” Mingi groaned deeply from above you, rested his forearms against the emergency door, thrusting sloppily into your mouth. He let out a few short, whiny moans once he began to shudder, plunging his throbbing cock deep inside your throat and staying still. “Oh, shit, I’m cumming. Take my load, princess, ohh my god, that’s it.”
You swallowed the warm, salty liquid as it shot down your throat, only to open your mouth and present your tongue when Mingi pulled out and began to slowly milk his cock, taking the rest of his load on your tongue, not swallowing and simply letting it drip down, a few drops spilling down your chin and getting onto your tits.
“Mm, that’s my messy girl. You’re waiting for me to feed it to you, huh?” Mingi licked at his plush lips from witnessing your obedient nod, pushing his soft cock back into his pants and waiting for you to stand up so that he could collect some of the cum that had escaped your mouth and pushed it back into your mouth. “That’s right, babygirl, clean it all up for me. Mm-hmm, just like that.”
Once you slurped the rest of his load off of his fingers, you wrapped your arms around Mingi’s neck, pressing your heated body into his. “Mingiiii, please fuck me, I can’t take it,” you begged him underneath your breath, pressing your lips onto his neck up to his tense jawline.
“Oh, yeah? You can’t live without this dick, can you?” he questioned you huskily, bringing his wrists up to his mouth one by one to pull his gloves off with his teeth, before reaching past your waist to roughly squeeze his warm hands into your ass. When you grimaced up at him, he tugged your skirt up and spread your ass open to run his fingers down your wet slit from behind, making you whimper. “Admit it, and i’ll fuck you stupid, princess.”
Swallowing down any remaining dignity you had along with the remnants of your ex’s load, you lifted one leg up to hook it around his slim waist, allowing him easier access to you wet cunt, shuddering at the sensation of him shallowly slipping his fingers into and out of you just to tease you. “I can’t live without your cock, Mingi, okay? No one fucks me like you do, so please, make me yours.”
Mingi rubbed the abundant wetness around your cunt, licking his lips hungrily, staring down at you past his dark shades. “Right here? Right now?”
“Yes.”
“What if someone sees, princess?”
“I don’t give a fuck if someone sees, just fuck me, please!”
Mingi grinned crookedly, finding deep amusement in your desperation, considering how you were acting just a little while ago. “Where’s your car, baby?”
You pointed down the dark alleyway. “It’s just around the corner over there.”
Mingi looked over his shoulder, then picked you up from the ground, hooking both of your thighs around his waist and carrying you over to your car, massaging his hands into your thighs on the way. “I don’t have any condoms, you know.”
When Mingi laid you down on the hood of your car, the cool metal sending goosebumps up and down your exposed, heated skin, you shook your head and smiled softly. “When has that ever stopped you?”
“Don’t act like you don’t love when I fuck you raw, and leave you stuffed full of my cum…” Still in between your legs, Mingi bent down to leave kisses, licks, and bites along your neck and collarbone, lowering his pants down just enough to free his length, his slick cock growing hard and heavy against your bare cunt. “Fuck, and when I use my fingers to shove my nut back inside your cunt after…mm, I’m honestly surprised you’re not knocked up for me already…”
“Mingi,” you whined disapprovingly, despite the fresh wave of slick coating your ex’s cock as it repeatedly rubbed back and forth along your cunt.
“What, I thought you liked being my cumslut…my little breeding bitch…my pump n’ dump princess…” Mingi recited playfully, teasing your fluttering hole with the tip of his cockhead, just about driving you to the brink of insanity withi his teasing.
“Shut up, Min, oh my god…”
“Why don’t you shut me up then?” he suggested, hovering close enough to your face for you to pull him in for a desperate kiss that consisted mainly of tongue and teeth, your mouths occasionally making contact in between tongue swipes and lip bites, the both of you panting all the while.
Growing impatient, you slipped your fingers into his choppy hair, tugging his head back until your lips parted, a few strands of saliva still connecting them. “If you don’t put your cock inside me in the next two seconds, I’m going to bite it off. You hear me, Song Mingi?”
Groaning breathily when you tugged at his hair again, Mingi let out a few soft chuckles, taking his shades off and setting them down on the corner of the hood. “Using my government name like that….I must’ve teased you too much. My poor angel, so desperate for cock. I’ll fuck you good, baby. I’ll make it up to you,” he sighed, as he wrapped his fingers around his length, guiding the tip to your entrance and sliding all the way in with ease, the both of you letting out obscene moans. Without any hesitation, Mingi began to buck his hips wildly, his metal belt banging against the hood of your car with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. You feel that? Is it good for you?”
“Yes…!” you cried out, barely about to speak, let alone function, now that your beloved ex was rearranging your guts with his colossal cock.
Huffing, Mingi threw your legs up over his shoulders and laid his body weight on you, essentially folding you in half. He ran his tongue along your jaw, before nipping at it, whispering, “God, you’re always so fucking tight, princess. Gonna milk me for all I’ve got, huh? Cuz’ you’re my good little slut, aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh, just for you, Minnie…”
“Mm-hmm, that’s why you’re still here even after you broke up with me earlier, baby…why you’re taking my cock on the hood of your car where anyone can see you…” Mingi continued, squeezing his hands into the plumpness of your thighs, getting a good grip on them, so that he could drive himself into you as hard as he possibly could, punching short, breathy moans out of you. “You sound so pretty for me, baby, and fuck, you’re so wet right now….You’re gonna cream all over my cock, aren’t you?”
As soon as it felt like Mingi’s oversized cock had slammed directly into your cervix, you let out an abrupt yell, an overwhelming amount of pleasure suddenly shooting through your body like lightning. “Fuck…! I’m cumming, Minnie, it’s so– oh my god.” You were gonna start whimpering and crying when Mingi gently placed his warm hand over your mouth, watching him nod his head knowingly at you, his suddenly softened gaze never leaving yours.
“That’s a good girl, such a good girl for me, Y/N,” Mingi sighed against your ear, the hot, wet sounds of your bodies colliding together and the ringing inside your ears almost too loud for you to hear him properly. Feeling your wetness pour out onto his cock, Mingi let go of your mouth and cradled your face instead, pressing slow, meaningful kisses onto your lips, a few drops of sweat dripping along the shaved sections of his hair just as your trembling fingers drifted along it. “Want it inside, yeah?”
“Yeah…” you whispered against his moving lips, not even realizing when you were clutching him impossibly close to you.
“That’s my baby…” Mingi pulled all the way out, your mixed arousal forming a milky foam around the base of his cock, before he slowly pushed all the way back in, just in time for him to paint your insides white with his seemingly endless load. He hugged you close to him all the while, pressing kiss and kiss onto your lips, face, and neck, knowing that your turbulent time together was about to come to an end, and wishing he could turn the clock back to spend another second with you.
Once your highs began to fade, you cleared your throat and slowly sat up, the both of you silently fixing your disheveled clothes and hair in a poor attempt to look presentable in the case of a random passerby.
“So…since you don’t have my keys, I’m not sure how I’m gonna get out of here,” you sighed, about to push yourself off of the hood of your car when Mingi helped you off instead, annoyed that he was suddenly acting gentlemanly when he had shown you nothing of the sort beforehand.
Smiling apologetically, Mingi fished around in one of his pockets and held your keys up to you. “I took them out of your purse before the show started.” Seeing the anger blossom on your pretty, flushed face, he continued, “Listen, I just wanted you to hear me out before you left and never came back to me, baby. I love you.”
You snatched the keys out of his hand and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back to sit on the hood of your car, keeping your thighs pressed together to keep everything from leaking out of you. “You don’t get to say that after you just made me your ‘pump n’ dump princess’, you idiot.”
“But I didn’t dump you, Y/N. You’re the one who dumped me!” Mingi whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, his brown eyes growing wide and puppy-like.
You couldn’t help but begin to laugh, not only at the ludicrous situation you were both in, but at the truth of his statement. Wiping a tear from your eye, you clicked your keys to unlock your car and walked around to the driver’s side.
“Where are you going? Are you leaving me?”
“No, we’re going to the store to get Plan B, dummy. I’m not about to let Mingi Jr. run around and terrorize the city,” you replied, gazing at your ex, the sight of his childlike amusement making you feel a bit soft towards him.
“I call shotgun!” Mingi called, eagerly heading to the passenger door, practically bouncing on his heels.
“There’s only two of us,” you giggled, sitting down in the car with him.
“For now.” Mingi wiggled his eyebrows at you.
You turned the ignition on, shaking your head, the corners of your lips hurting from how long you had been smiling. “Never say that shit again.”
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ladadiida · 1 year
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!
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You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
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again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.
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moonbakeries · 1 year
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HOW I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE IN A WEEK
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BACKSTORY
So I decided to fully immerse myself in "persisting" and fulfilling when I listened to Lonely one by LOVA because I spent around an hour just sobbing because I related to the song.
the week that I started was around Easter break and I was under the most amount of stress I have ever been through and I could see it the effects on my body
I was breaking out with huge pimples even though I was on accutane, I was averaging 2 hours of sleep a day every week for 2 weeks, my period had going on for 2 weeks, I was losing weight rapidly (was under 35kg:( ) my anxiety was at an all time high because I got harassed again(sexual assault victim). I used to have severe depression and have had multiple failed attempts of suicide. AND YES I WAS DESPERATE AS FUCK TO MANIFEST THIS DREAM LIFE OF MINE WHICH IS NO LONGER A DREAM
in the mornings I would be super anxious but I learned how to deal with it and get myself into the state super easily
HOW I DID IT
I GOT OFF TUMBLR: you know how many times I doubted myself only to realise I was doing everything right
I also read and listened to Edward Art MULTIPLE TIMES
Within a week of fulfilling and persisting, I had manifested my dream life. just like that. I woke up one morning and everything I had ever desired was right there. and it was super easy.
all I did was affirm(to remind not to get), visualise and feel. I would only do these methods if I wanted to, if I didn't I wouldn't.
Within a few days, the anxiety lessened so much and it started to feel natural. 
this was a question on Bambi's " how I manifested with hard circumstances " post which has now been sadly deleted but I remember copying this because it gave me hope at the time I copied it (don't hope, just know)
"But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?” you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track.  I rant for 2% of my 24 hour days. The other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and I felt more at ease. I held onto that feeling because I knew this was when I would get my desires and I did."
and that was when I knew I shouldn't give up and I just kept going even when I wanted myself to just get on tumblr and overconsume 
I actually nearly decided to see what I was "doing wrong". I clicked on one of Aphrodite's posts but I didn't read it. I just asked myself if I would look through it if I had my desires and I wouldn't and since I already have all of my desires I didn't.
Whenever the anxiety was too strong and I could feel the frustration and desperation building up, I would just rant and it helped me calm down and get back into the state super easily.
why?
because STATES MANIFEST THOUGHTS DON'T
which is why you can rant.
you know how many FUCKING DOUBTS I had, but I didn't even give them attention coz they didn't deserve any and how many times I wanted to just give up, but I was like NO, STFU, I DON'T WANNA LIVE MISERABLY ANYMORE and now I'm not :)
The affirmations I used:
It is done
I am living my dream life
I am in my desired reality
The 3d will conform as long as i keep persisting
Imagination is the real reality
I also daydreamed, but since imagination is the real reality they were real
WHAT I MANIFESTED
- desired appearance
- name change
- family change
- skills (drivers licence etc)
- apartment and furniture
- wealth
- a bunch of random materialistic things
- desired friend group (I absolutely love them!)
- desired uni and always getting good grades
- outfits from pinterest
and a bunch of other things
- I also ended up manifesting an sp without even knowing and he's pretty much I everything I scripted him to be(scripted a year ago because I didn't really care for a relationship) but this happened before I manifested my dream life
after a year and half of being on loablr I finally manifested my dream life. and you can too
(there was probably over 100 things I wanted but I realised what I want is not much, nothing ever is when you know about loa and yes, i was super desperate)
you don't need anymore information other than @angelsinluv states post and fulfillment challenge
you shouldn't ever be stressed or worried while manifesting whatever you want, because you wouldn't stress if you had it
TAKE YOUR TIME
YOU GOT THIS
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oddinary4bts · 3 months
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Chasing Cars | ch 8 (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: peach, curses, luxury, impostor syndrome, alcohol, jungkook's family, they are so gone for each other my dude, explicit content: hickeys, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), exhibitionism (sort of but not really), protected sex, Jungkook is a teasing hoe, marking, ass slapping, praising, clit play
☆word count: 13.5k
☆a/n: NEW YOOOORK!!! My second favourite chapter of this series bc it's just so asjgsrjgsabfgo but I'll let you guys be the judge of that haha enjoy reading <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, March 8th 
The sun is high in the sky, the snow melting on the side of the road, and Jungkook’s car is eating the miles towards New York, the music you’ve been listening to since you’ve left loud yet enjoyable.
Or maybe what’s truly enjoyable is the smile on Jungkook’s face whenever you meet his gaze while you’re bolting a duet, singing over the music.
Scratch that, you’ve been enjoying yourself because you’re with Jungkook. It doesn’t matter what you’d be doing - as long as it’s with Jungkook, you know you’d have fun. Even as his car slows down almost to a halt as you near the city and face its traffic, it doesn’t deter you.
No, Jungkook’s wide grin and his hand on your thigh keeps your mind far too occupied to be able to produce anything other than serotonin, and you think you deserve it. Especially after the uncertainty of the last few weeks, you deserve this moment with Jungkook.
This moment, away from reminders of Taehyung and of how you know this relationship is bound to explode in your face one day.
You shove that thought away as Jungkook’s giggle fills the car, and you glance at him, smiling brightly.
“You’re not really going to put some Taylor Swift on,” Jungkook complains, yet it’s at odds with the amused light in his eyes.
“I sure am,” you reply, and the song Welcome to New York starts playing. 
You know it by heart, and Jungkook watches you in awe as you sing. If you weren’t rational, you’d assume he’s looking at you with heart-shaped eyes, but you know better than that.
You’re just his fake girlfriend for the weekend. Nothing more. 
Nothing more than the fact that you will meet his entire family, including his extended family, tomorrow. He doesn’t seem like he cares, and you’ve been trying to pretend that you don’t care either, but it is making you feel anxious.
You’ve never had a boyfriend that you’ve met the family of before. Or actually, you’ve never had a boyfriend whatsoever.
Jungkook knows his way in the city. You’re not surprised - he grew up here, and he told you he usually spends his summers back home as well to work and make enough money for the year. What you’re surprised about is that the streets down which he starts driving once you’re passed the traffic and into the city proper look expensive, exuding wealth that you could only ever wish to know.
It only increases when he parks his car in the underground parking garage of a huge skyscraper which apparently holds condos and the like.
At least that’s what he says. 
“Leave your bag in the car,” Jungkook tells you as you’re about to fetch your duffel bag from the backseat. 
You cock an eyebrow in question. “Aren’t we here?”
He smiles mischievously, eyes shining in the white neon light of the underground garage. “I’m taking you shopping.”
“Why?” you burst out, looking down at yourself. “Are my clothes not good enough?”
He walks around the car, pulling you away from the car door by the hand before he shuts it behind you, leaning against it. 
“Trust me, peach, your clothes are perfect for me,” he says. “But I much prefer you without the clothes on.”
He winks, and you punch him in the shoulder, cheeks flaming.
“You’re insufferable,” you grumble.
“You like it.”
“I don’t.”
He smiles as you fake-glare at him, until you both start laughing. He extends a hand for you to take, and you let him engulf your small hand with his large one as he pulls you towards the elevator.
“Seriously though, I’ll get you a nice dress for tomorrow night,” Jungkook says as you reach the elevator, and he presses the call button. “Not that I don’t trust what you’ve brought,” he quickly adds before you could say anything. “More as a thank you for doing this for me.”
You narrow your eyes at him, yet you nod your head. Because who would say no to free clothes?
Certainly not you.
Jungkook pulls you behind him in the elevator when the doors slide open, and then presses on the ground floor. Once you get off, he’s quick to guide you down a hallway that looks straight out of a fancy hotel - marble floors reflecting the light of the sconces on the walls, abstract paintings at regular intervals on the wall to the left, over dark oak tables with white flowers in crystal vases. 
The hallway even smells expensive, and you throw a curious glance to Jungkook.
“Where are we?” you ask, unable to help yourself.
He glances at you over his shoulder, winking at you. “Home.”
“This is what you call home?” you ask, thinking about the small apartment you grew up in on the poor side of the city you hail from.
He shrugs. “I feel more at home back in college, but yeah, I grew up here.”
“Jungkook,” you say, tugging on his hand to stop him, but he’s determined, his steps unfaltering.
You grumble under your breath, yet you follow him out into the early evening setting sun, the doors of the building golden. You don’t ask the questions that are burning in your mind - what do his parents do for a living? Why didn’t he mention he was rich?
Why does he live in that small, old apartment with you and Taehyung if he can afford so much more?
The questions spin in your head like they are a tornado of thoughts, and they only increase in speed as he pulls you to an Yves Saint Laurent store, pushing the door open as if he owns the place.
Could he…?
“Jeon Jungkook!” a middle-aged lady greets him, her face lighting up as you come into view. “We haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Hey, Mrs Smith,” Jungkook answers. “Meet my girlfriend.”
He tugs on your hand, forcing you to step out from behind him, and you blush as the lady appears. She’s tall, though you believe it might be because she’s wearing stilettos, and her skirt and blazer combo makes her look like a businesswoman. 
The nametag on the blazer is a clear indication that she isn’t, though. No, she visibly works here.
“Hello,” you awkwardly say, not knowing what else to say as she looks you up and down.
“Are you here for a new wardrobe?” she asks, the question directed towards Jungkook as if what you’re wearing is the ugliest outfit anyone has ever come up with before.
You try to not take offense, yet you find yourself momentarily clenching your jaw as Jungkook replies, “No, just for a dress for Junghyun’s engagement party.”
Mrs Smith nods, and she motions towards what looks like a small scene in front of multiple mirrors. It’s the kind of thing you’ve seen before in period pieces, where the seamstresses take the ladies’ measurement. So you’re not entirely surprised when Mrs Smith pulls out a measuring tape from a hidden pocket in her blazer, and you let her do her work, your eyes on Jungkook as he watches with an amused smile on his lips.
“You could have warned me,” you say, and Mrs Smith looks up towards you, the frown on her features convincing you to shut up until she’s done.
Jungkook only laughs, saying, “I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
He does. He certainly does, and though it’s pissing you off, there’s something endearing about the way he’s watching from that couch, the small smile on his lips softening his features. 
You fall silent as Mrs Smith keeps working, and soon she’s sauntering off, the sound of her stilettos click-clacking slowly fading. You immediately climb off from the little scene, storming towards Jungkook.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were rich?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Does it change anything?”
“It doesn’t.” You look around, not quite believing that you’re standing in a designer store. “But then it does.”
He pouts, the expression so adorable you feel like leaning in and kissing him. It’s startling, and before you can do anything, Mrs Smith comes back with a light blue dress she wants you to try on. You follow the lady to the dressing room, and Jungkook offers you a wink as you glance at him over your shoulder.
Mrs Smith leads you into the room, and it’s way too large for just a dressing room. She leaves the dress on a hook against a wall, in front of a tall standing mirror, and you thank her as she gets out, gently shutting the door behind her.
Which leaves you alone with your thoughts, and with the fact that Jungkook wants to buy you a designer dress. 
You take a look at the dress. It’s beautiful, the colour eerily similar to that of a summer sky, yet maybe somewhat a little paler. You step towards it, searching for a tag, but you can’t find any. The softness of the fabric is a clear indication that it is probably worth more than everything you own combined together, and you anxiously take off your clothes to put it on.
One look in the mirror makes you feel like a princess. Like you’re the one someone might write a story about, or sing a song to. Even though your hair is a mess and you’re not wearing any makeup, you feel more beautiful than you’ve ever felt before.
The dress hugs your curves perfectly, enhancing them in all the right places. It looks like it was tailor-made for you, and for a moment you believe you’re in love.
You really do think you’re in love when you shyly step out of the dressing room for Mrs Smith to finish zipping the dress up, and Jungkook looks up from his phone to look at you.
The smirk on his lips slowly dies down, and his gaze doesn’t move from you as you step closer. You don’t think he’s blinking, or even breathing, and you truly feel like the most beautiful woman in the world right now.
“Do you like the dress?” a female voice to your left says, but you can’t look away from Jungkook.
You’re entranced, and it seems that he is too. Like you’re the center of the universe, or maybe that’s him - it’s hard to tell.
“We’ll take it,” Jungkook says after a moment, and he gets up. 
Towering over you, he tilts your head back with a finger on your chin, and you gulp as your gazes connect.
“On the family tab?” Mrs Smith asks. 
“Yes.”
“How much is the dress?” you can’t help but query, turning your head towards Mrs Smith.
She regards you with an eyebrow cocked, before glancing at Jungkook. “10,350 dollars, miss.”
Your mouth falls open as she walks away, and you immediately look back towards Jungkook.
“No,” is all that you say.
He flicks your nose. “Don’t cause a scene, peach.”
“I’m not causing a scene,” you say through gritted teeth. “This dress is worth more than a year of my share of the rent.”
“And? Your point?”
You roll your eyes, folding your arms on your chest. “I’m not letting you buy this.”
“Well too bad for you, it’s already paid for.”
He winks at you again, and then plops back down on the couch, his smirk widening into a grin that makes butterflies come to life in your stomach.
It’s a feeling you don’t like, so you turn your back on him, heading back to the dressing room. With new respect for the dress, you slowly take it off, treating it reverently. Once it’s safely back on the hanger, you put your clothes back on, hands shaking a little at the enormity of what Jungkook just did.
Though, to him, it doesn’t seem like it was a lot. Indeed, when you get out of the dressing room, leaving the dress behind because you don’t dare touch it again, Jungkook springs up from the couch, offering you his hand.
And even though you feel like maybe you don’t really know anything about him, you take his hand. His fingers close around yours, gently, and he offers you a smile that makes you warm like spring days, when the world is coming back to life.
And as you walk behind him, you think maybe, maybe this weekend is a great opportunity to get to know him better. To get to know the man that hides behind the cocky behaviour, the one you’ve seen on multiple occasions already.
Though it should scare you, the thought only makes you hold onto Jungkook’s fingers a little tighter. He reciprocates, and it’s with a heart beating wildly that he waits with you for Mrs Smith to bring the dress over, safely hidden in a dress bag. Jungkook takes it for you, and then he pulls you behind him.
You’re soon swallowed by the New York city bustling crowd, though Jungkook is a lighthouse in the storm and you feel safe.
You feel safe with him, and that, more than anything, scares you.
*****
“You’re shitting me,” is all you say when Jungkook leads you into his room, once you’re back at the condominium in which he grew up.
You’d gathered enough information to know that he was rich. But you didn’t think he was rich rich - the condo he grew up in is on the two highest levels of the skyscraper, with an unparalleled view of Central Park that’s making you feel like you’re a bird soaring in the sky.
Jungkook laughs behind you as he shuts the door, dropping your duffel bag and his next to it. You’ve been carrying the dress up, treating it like the treasure that it is, and Jungkook gently takes it from your hand as he walks away, disappearing in what you can only assume is his walk-in wardrobe. 
He pops back out a few seconds later, minus the dress bag, and he offers you a smile that’s even more blinding than the city view. “No, I’m not,” he says.
You chuckle, cheeks burning for a reason you don’t quite understand, and then you scan his room. It’s cold, empty, void of the quality that makes his room back at the apartment feel like his. This room is impersonal, the kind of room you’d see in interior design magazines, with the black bed covers and equally as dark walls. Light comes from behind the bed frame, yet the true beauty of the room is that of the city, and you take it in as you step closer to the floor-to-ceiling window that is the wall at the foot of the bed.
“I can’t believe it,” you murmur. “This is so beautiful.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
You slowly nod, glancing towards Jungkook. “I can’t believe you chose to live in that shitty apartment with Tae when this is what you were accustomed to.”
He shrugs, not answering anything, as he instead heads to where he left the duffel bags so that he can carry them into the walk-in. You follow him then, curious to see what the rest of his bedroom looks like.
The walk-in is empty, save for a corner that holds a couple of suits you imagine to be from different designer brands. You notice a few dress shirts over there too, but your gaze focuses on the PC setup that’s in between two walls of shelves.
Finally, something that feels like Jungkook.
You walk towards it, rolling the chair back so that you can sit in it. Jungkook drops your duffel bag on the shelf behind you, and you turn your chair so that you can face him.
“You want to play?” he asks.
“What games do you have?”
He leans towards you, and you catch a whiff of his cologne as he turns the PC on. 
“Honestly I don’t remember what’s downloaded on the PC,” he truthfully replies. “Just check out my Steam account.”
And then he’s walking towards the other side of the walk-in, heading towards what you can only assume is the bathroom. You spring up from the chair, and it rolls behind you from the sudden motion as you jog to the bathroom.
You’re not surprised to see just how expensive the bathroom looks. Black tiles cover the floor, and they climb the walls of the walk-in shower next to which a wide-standing cabinet with glass doors is. A proper look at the shower shows that it’s one with multiple shower heads, and you already know the shower you’ll take later will be heavenly, clearly the best you’ll ever take in your life. Jungkook leans on the counter, folding his arm on his chest as he watches you taking everything in, your gaze wide from awe.
“You don’t even have a bath,” you comment, and Jungkook bursts out laughing.
“I never needed one. But if you want to take a bath, there’s one in the bigger bathroom on this level.”
“Isn’t it connected to like… your parents’ room or something?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Yeah, but my parents haven’t stayed here since I was five,” he reveals. “They prefer staying at hotels.”
You furrow your brow. “They have such a nice condo and they don’t even enjoy it?”
Another shrug of Jungkook tells you that he, too, doesn’t understand his parents. 
“If you want, I can give you a tour of the whole place,” Jungkook suggests after a beat of silence.
Your eyes light up, and you nod forcefully. “Yes. Please, I’d love to.”
He laughs at your enthusiasm, before motioning towards the toilet. “I do have to go to the bathroom first, if you’ll excuse me.”
Cheeks burning, you mumble an apology that makes him laugh as you step out of the bathroom, and he gently closes the door behind you. Embarrassed, you make your way back to the gaming setup, and you watch the landscape picture of the welcome screen. Pressing on enter reveals that Jungkook doesn’t have a password for the computer, and a moment later his Steam library appears in front of your eyes.
Obviously he’s got every game you can imagine, and you don’t have time to go through the whole library before he’s out, ready to give you the tour. And the rest of the condo is just as impressive as Jungkook’s bedroom is, though the whole thing feels… empty. Void of life. Which, you assume it is considering his parents don’t live here most of the time, and his brother owns a city house with his fiancée. 
Your favourite part ends up being the kitchen, even though you don’t cook. But who wouldn’t like the beauty of the marble counters, of the white cupboards and of the impressive glass chandelier that hangs over the long dinner table?
You end up sitting on a stool at the island, watching Jungkook as he moves through the kitchen. He finds instant noodles in the pantry, and he comes out of it with a wide grin on his lips.
“Found dinner,” he says.
You laugh. “You’ve got such a nice kitchen and all you’ll cook are some instant noodles?”  
He narrows his gaze at you. “You have a problem against instant noodles?”
You snort, shrugging your shoulders. “No.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but he drops it, focusing on making food for the two of you. It takes a few minutes, but he’s soon sitting next to you, two bowls of noodles wafting steam in front of you. It smells good, if not a bit spicy, and you grab the chopsticks he put out for you.
“Thanks for the food,” you tell him, flashing a grin to him that makes his features soften in a far too dangerous way for you.
So you look away, cheeks dusting in pink, and you start eating. Though the noodles are indeed spicy, you endure the burn, finding that you actually enjoy it a little bit. Maybe because it’s distracting you from the thought that you’re with your brother’s best friend - you ought to stop thinking about it anyway.
Here, Jungkook isn’t Taehyung’s best friend. Here, he’s just Jungkook, and you’re just you.
Saturday March 9th
You feel like an impostor. 
The venue for the engagement party is luxurious, nestled on the top floors of one of the many skyscrapers of Manhattan. The people in attendance are all dressed to the nines, as if trying to impress. 
Or you’re just impressed because you’ve never seen so many designer clothes in such a place before. 
The floor is made of shiny marble, the ceiling high. A huge, glass chandelier hangs from it, and multiple columns are decorated with shiny golden garlands. In one corner, in front of tall windows overlooking New York City, a photobooth is set up, but you’ve remained clear of it so far.
You and Jungkook are both aware that you can’t risk having pictures of you taken. Not when they could easily be found by Taehyung, or by other people from back at college.
Like Ria, who questioned you for hours when you said you were going to spend the weekend in New York…
You know you’ll be grilled when you get home, but you push that thought aside, much like you’ve been putting all thoughts of your regular life aside. Jungkook has been making it easy - his smile and laughter, ever so constant yesterday evening, has been grounding, and though he does seem anxious right now, he’s remained by your side, making sure to put you at ease.
You haven’t met his parents or brother yet, but he’s introduced to some cousins that approached you, some of them surprisingly only speaking Korean. Jungkook bridged the gap between you and them, translating when needed, and they have now moved to the refreshment table, adorned with a pyramid of champagne glasses you’ve imagined toppling over at least fifteen times since you’ve arrived.
You really do feel like an impostor at the sight of all the easy luxury. Of the Louboutin high heels, the Louis Vuitton purses, the expensive suits and dresses everyone is wearing. The vast room smells rich, and it truly isn’t your crowd.
“Smile, peach,” Jungkook says, nudging you with his elbow.
Your gaze slides to him, and as it’s been doing since you finished getting ready earlier, your breath catches in your throat. There’s just something about the pale pants and the light blue dress shirt he’s wearing that makes him seem even more attractive than you’ve always found him. Maybe it’s the way the fabric stretches on his chest, revealing his hard-earned muscles. Or maybe it’s the vulnerability in his gaze.
He doesn’t seem more comfortable than you in this crowd.
“You smile,” you throw back at him, and he immediately does, a low laugh shaking through him.
“Do you want something to drink?”
You look down at yourself, wincing. “I’m afraid I’ll ruin the dress.”
“So you’re just going to stand still the whole evening because you’re afraid to ruin your clothes?” he teases.
You clench your jaw, rolling your eyes. “Precisely.”
“Loosen up, peach,” Jungkook insists, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes you think maybe he needs you to.
Maybe he truly does need your support at this fancy party. So you find yourself accepting to get drinks, and you’re almost done with the first glass when Jungkook tenses next to you, freezing like a deer in headlights. 
His doe eyes are on the doors, and you look in the direction to see an older woman and man walking in, the woman’s hand on her husband’s arm. You see a little bit of Jungkook in them - the woman’s eyes are Jungkook’s, and the man has the same nose and lips - so you immediately know that they are Jungkook’s parents.
The woman scans the room, and her eyes stop on you. In the distance it’s hard to tell if she looks happy to see her son - she barely even reacts, though she tugs her husband in your direction. You glance to Jungkook, but he really does seem frozen.
“Are you okay?” you ask, resting a hand on his arm.
He startles, toying with his piercings with his tongue before nodding curtly. “All good.”
You look towards his parents, and they’ve already crossed half of the room.
“Is that…” you trail off, knowing how rhetorical the question is.
“Yep.”
“What should I do?” you ask, tugging on his arm.
His eyes snap to you, and they’re void of the warmth you usually recognize in them. They’re like chips of ice - empty, cold, and something aches in your chest.
“Just be yourself.”
You offer him a small smile. His gaze is quick to drop to it, and you see the moment it warms. You see the moment he realizes he’s not alone, not right now, even though this is all but a subterfuge.
You’re not his girlfriend, but you’ll sure as hell try to be the best friend you can be for him right now.
“Jungkook,” his mother says as she stops in front of you, and your gaze slides to her.
She looks regal, standing ramrod straight with a steely look on her face. She spares you a quick glance, cocking an eyebrow before resuming her attention on Jungkook.
“Mother,” Jungkook replies in the same cold, formal tone.
“Glad to see you came around and decided to come.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “I wanted to introduce Y/n to the family.”
Heart beating out of your chest, you look up to Jungkook, observing the firm set of his jaw. He seems determined, like a man going into battle, and you wonder if that is what it is.
If Jungkook brought you here to rile his family up.
His mother finally truly takes you in, her eyes skimming over you. “I don’t think we know each other,” she says, and there is so much contempt in her voice you furrow your brow.
“I don’t think so,” you answer, trying to sound as polite as you possibly can. You bow your head, meeting her gaze when you straighten. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Jungkook’s father pats his wife’s hand. She lets him go, almost reluctantly, and he walks away, heading to a group of men that seem far too happy to see him.
You wonder if you should take offence to him walking away when you just tried to introduce yourself, though the way Jungkook is staring at his mother lets you know that the true opponent of this battle is the woman in front of you, and not the man that just left.
“Likewise,” she replies, and this time she doesn’t hide the contempt from her voice at all. It drips to her features, and she scrunches up her nose in disgust, looking down at the high heels you’re wearing.
A simple pair of high heels you’ve bought for your high school prom, that you’ve been reusing whenever you have the occasion.
“Nice shoes,” Jungkook’s mother says, and you can tell that she means it as an insult. 
You clench your jaw, cocking an eyebrow as you get ready to reply, but Jungkook intervenes with a stern, “Mother.”
“You thought dressing her up in a nice dress would make us forget that she’s not from our class?”
The insult is stark, and you widen your gaze as your heart rate spikes, your blood heating up in your veins.
“Excuse me?” you let out, unable to resist.
Jungkook’s mother meets your gaze. “At least she’s got a tongue on her.”
“And I’ll ask you to make a fucking effort for once,” Jungkook spits.
She frowns. “Do not curse, boy. It doesn’t suit you.”
He laughs, a short, dry sound that makes the hair dress on your arms. She clenches her jaw, a muscle feathering under the skin, and you wonder where Jungkook learned to be warm. Where he learned to smile like he’s lighter than a feather, like he’s never known any atrocities. Because standing here, you realize just how cold his upbringing must have been like.
And it’s strange. The little boy in the picture on his bedside table was all smiles, eyes crinkling with joy. You’d assumed the picture had been taken by his parents, but now that you’ve met his mother, you highly doubt she’s ever been the source of a smile on Jungkook’s lips.
While you’ve been thinking, Jungkook and his mother were stuck in a staring contest, a battle of will that Jungkook wins. Indeed, his mother sighs deeply and then turns towards you again.
“Where do you come from?” she asks.
You gulp under the scrutiny of her gaze, yet give her the answer.
“What do your parents do for a living?”
You tense, for that is an answer that even Jungkook doesn’t know. 
“My mother is a nurse,” you reply. You feel Jungkook’s curious gaze on your profile, but you resist glancing at him. “And I do not know my father.”
Jungkook’s mother blinks once, and then she focuses on her son. “Junghyun will be happy you came.”
She leaves without saying another word, and you’re left staring at her retreating form, wondering if it’s just you or if she’s the rudest person you’ve ever met.
“I apologize for this,” Jungkook says, and his arm drops from your shoulder.
You immediately miss it.
“I think I’m starting to get why you wanted me to come with you,” you say, and you finally meet his gaze.
He’s slightly pouting, lips barely jutting out, yet there’s something endearing about the expression on his features. “I honestly didn’t think she would be flat-out rude like that.” He downs what’s left of the champagne in his flute and then puts it down on the tray of a server as she walks past. “I promise we can go home as soon as Junghyun shows up and sees that I came.”
“We can stay longer too,” you reassure him. “I can handle the aristocracy.”
The frown on his features melts, and he lets out a small laugh. “The aristocracy?”
You nod. “Yeah. Because obviously we aren’t from the same class.”
“Fuck, peach,” he grumbles, shaking his head, yet there’s an amused sparkle in his gaze that makes you feel warm all of a sudden.
It’s like you forget all about his mother, and about his avoidant father. It soon becomes clear that he is avoiding Jungkook, not you, and you feel bad for the man beside you. 
He deserves a family that treats him better than the one he has, or so you believe. And it’s not like you know them at all - the dynamic is just off, and it’s unlike what you’ve personally known growing up.
If you forget about the fact that you don’t have a father and that your mother worked so much while you were growing up that you barely saw her.
Junghyun and his fiancée show up an hour later, fashionably late. You and Jungkook have been drinking more, and you feel buzzed from the alcohol, warmth swimming through your body. It’s only amplified every time you meet Jungkook’s gaze, every time he tugs you a little closer, and you think you’ll be drunk by the end of the evening, just because of him.
He’s inebriating after all.
Junghyun notices his brother across the space, and unlike his parents, his face breaks into a large grin, one that resembles that of Jungkook, and he immediately makes his way towards you. He’s much more relaxed than his parents, with an easy going vibe to him, and the way Jungkook relaxes makes you think that Junghyun, contrary to his parents, is not an asshole.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Junghyun says as he stops in front of you, immediately pulling Jungkook into a tight embrace.
Jungkook beams under the attention of his older brother. “I thought it’d be a good surprise.”
“It sure is,” Junghyun agrees as he pulls away. His eyes slide to you, and you offer him a tentative smile that he easily reciprocates. “And you are?”
“My girlfriend,” Jungkook says before you have time to say your name. “From college.”
Junghyun nods, meeting your gaze again. “Nice to meet you.”
You echo the sentiment as his fiancée - Nara - stops next to Junghyun, politely greeting Jungkook. 
You end up speaking with the pair for a little while. They both are a lot more welcoming than Jungkook’s parents, and Jungkook seems to be vibrating with happiness by the time they have to move away, needing to greet the other guests in the room. Meanwhile the sun has set outside, and you take a moment to admire the view as Jungkook goes to grab a refill for you both.
“I must admit he has a lot of nerves to bring you here,” a voice says next to you, and you turn to notice his mother, her arms folded on her chest.
Though your heart skips a painful, anxious beat in your chest, you only face the world outside again. “And why is that?”
She scoffs. “He’s technically engaged to someone.”
The world stops turning, and you glance at his mother. She sports a small, wicked smile, like she knows Jungkook didn’t tell you.
“What do you mean?” you can’t help but ask, your hands turning clammy.
She shrugs. “His father and I have discussed it with another family. We’ve deemed it better if they marry.”
“Does he even know her?” you spit.
She chuckles condescendingly. “Look at you. You really think you fit in our world? Your mother clearly hasn’t raised you for it.”
You fully face Jungkook’s mother, nails digging in your palms as you clench your fists. “I’ll have you know that my mother raised me well, and raised me to know privilege where it is. Just because you happened to be born rich doesn’t make you any better.”
Her gaze widens, and you see Jungkook walking back towards you, two glasses of champagne in hands. He notices his mother, a muscle feathering under the skin of his jaw, and you don’t care to stay next to her before you start heading his way.
You meet in the middle of the room, and you wonder if your vision has grown blurry. You only understand your eyes have filled with tears when Jungkook curses under his breath, glaring at his mother over your head.
“What did she tell you?” he asks, voice gentle.
You shrug. “Nothing,” you lie, blinking the tears away.
But she didn’t tell you nothing, did she? 
“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes. “She’s…”
“It’s whatever,” you insist, interrupting him. “I just want to spend time with you.”
You just want to spend time with him because you’ve learned he’s technically engaged, if his mother wasn’t lying.
Does he even know it?
You successfully blink your tears away as Jungkook hands you a champagne glass, which you down in one long gulp.
“I’m flattered, peach,” he teases.
The champagne bubbles down your throat, and you swallow with a scrunch of your nose. When you’ve finished the glass, you hand it back to Jungkook, who takes it with one eyebrow cocked. He looks like he wants to say something, but then his brother starts to speak with a mic. The room ushers to silence, forcing everyone to listen to the speech. Jungkook’s frowning, eyes still on you, but after a few seconds he turns to look at his brother.
You wish you’d be able to listen to the speech, to focus on it, but all you can do is keep on blinking back the tears from snapping at Jungkook’s mother.
Here’s to making bad first impressions. 
And it’s not like it truly matters - you’re not even Jungkook’s real girlfriend. You’re just a friend, someone he brought along as a shield from his family. 
Or so you’re starting to realize. You can’t even blame him. If your mother was remotely similar to his, you’d always make sure to go home with someone to support you. 
The least you can do is be that for Jungkook.
When Junghyun finishes his speech, his fiancée moves closer to him, and they share a sweet embrace that looks a little too practiced for it to be genuine. Or it might just be you - if it had been you in their position, you’re pretty sure you would have wanted to kiss your fiancé stupid. But then again, you reckon it might be improper in this social class.
Jungkook’s mother might have a point - you really weren’t raised to know how to act around rich people.
Except Jungkook, that is, but that’s because you didn’t know he was rich before yesterday, and you doubt he cares anyway.
“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asks as servers start walking around with different appetizers, all of them looking far fancier than anything you’ve eaten in your life.
“Huh,” you let out as one of the servers stops next to you. “What’s this?” 
“Crab cakes,” the server answers, flashing you a quick, polite smile.
You glance at Jungkook. “I’m allergic to seafood.”
He snorts, and then wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go find something that doesn’t have seafood in it.”
You end up finding small vegetarian burgers, and though they are barely bite-size, you enjoy a couple of them despite their dryness. It’s not enough to satiate your hunger, and especially not enough for Jungkook, so when he suggests going out to a restaurant nearby, you jump on the occasion to say yes.
“Then wait for me here,” Jungkook indicates, and to your surprise he kisses your forehead before slipping away, heading towards where you can see his brother and father conversing. While he speaks to them, probably explaining that you’re going to go eat somewhere else, you admire the view again.  Cars zoom down in the streets below, each and every one of them carrying a different person with their own little life.
You feel small so high over the city. It’s sobering, and you feel like your mind is clearing from the buzz of the alcohol, from the remnants of the guilt you had for snapping at Jungkook’s mother. 
You glance over your shoulder, eyeing Jungkook as he stands as if frozen, his brother speaking in his ear. Junghyun slides his gaze to you, and you offer him a tentative smile that the man ignores. You’d even think that his eyes harden, but it’s hard to tell in the distance. Especially as he pulls away from Jungkook, claps his shoulder once and then walks away, his father in tow.
Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, and you wonder what it is that Junghyun said. Because the moment Jungkook turns and you see the look on his face, you know it must have been something harsh.
Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. It’s so vulnerable, so different from his usual cocky persona that you immediately make your way towards him.
“Are you okay?” you ask.
Jungkook just blinks looking at you, his eyes shining from unshed tears. You grab his hand, squeezing once, forgetting all about his mother being an asshole to you. No, all there is right now is Jungkook, and you want to make sure he finishes this evening with a smile on his face.
He deserves it after all.
“Hey, so where’s that restaurant you mentioned?” you query, switching tactics. 
Jungkook keeps looking at you for a few seconds, but he soon blinks a couple of times more, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
He pulls you behind him in the crowd, and you don’t know what look he has on his face, but people literally jump out of the way. He’s walking quickly, and you struggle to follow him, but you know he needs to leave.
You’ve seen the sorrow in his gaze, and you don’t blame him for wanting to get away. Indeed, you just want to flee in the night too, and you’re thankful the moment the elevator doors slide to a close after you’ve retrieved your coats, and you’re finally left in a quiet silence of just you and him.
Jungkook looks at you, gaze heavy, and a second later he’s on you, hands cupping your cheeks as he backs you into the wall. You startle, yet you’re quick to melt in his touch, to kiss him back with the same intensity he offers you.
His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you let him in, moaning softly as he drives his knee between your legs.
You didn’t expect him to kiss you. Especially not when nothing happened last night, some sort of awkwardness lingering in the air from being in his childhood room. But he kisses you languidly, all tongue and lips, his piercings pressing indents in your lower lip, and warmth pools at your core as the elevator goes down and down.
Anyone could walk in and catch you kissing, yet it doesn’t deter Jungkook, and neither does it deter you. Indeed, it only spurs you more, and your hands drop to his waist so that you can pull him closer.
The moment ends when the door slides open to reveal the ground floor, and Jungkook steps away from you, eyes dark with lust and shadows you don’t want to interpret. He smooths his shirt, offers you a tight-lipped smile that makes your heart clench in your chest, and then he’s walking out.
You’re quick to follow him, cheeks burning as someone at the reception eyes the two of you. You ignore them, hoping they can’t see how your lips are swollen from the kiss, and you all but have to jog to catch up with Jungkook by the time he reaches the doors.
He holds it open for you, yet you can’t meet his gaze as you step outside. Not when the engagement party was such a shitshow, not after he kissed you like that only to leave without saying anything.
The bustle of the New York City life engulfs you as you step out on the street, Jungkook in tow. To your surprise, his large hands close around yours, and you glance up to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry about…” he trails off, motioning over his shoulder.
You purse your lips. “About kissing me?”
The shadows partially lift in his gaze, warmth replacing them. “I’m not sorry about that at all,” he teases. “But I meant, about my family.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand. “I’m happy I could be there with you.”
He remains silent for a few seconds of you holding each other’s gaze on the sidewalk, and then he cracks a smile, though it doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. “What would I do without you, mmh?”
You laugh, and it sounds truer than it feels. “What would you do indeed?” you tease.
He chuckles, pulling you closer so that he can hug you. You wonder who needs it the most - him, or you? Because the second his arms wrap around you, you snake yours around his waist, hiding your face in his chest. He smells good - like Dior Sauvage, you think - and for a moment you just want to stay right here, in his arms.
Until his stomach grumbles, a low rumble against your cheek that makes you burst out laughing.
“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, looking up at him.
He meets your gaze, nodding once. “Peach, I’m fucking starving.”
That makes you laugh even more, lifting the heaviness of the atmosphere somehow, and it’s with a smile tickling your lips that you make your way to the restaurant - a kebab place on the first floor of another skyscraper. You eat your fill, laughing around with Jungkook, doing your best to keep the shadows out of his gaze.
But they never fully lift, and you’re not close enough to him to ask what his brother told him that upset him so much. 
Mostly, you’re not close enough to ask him if he’s truly supposed to marry someone, or if his mother just said that to scare you off. It’s like walking a tightrope, and you’re one wrong move from falling to your death.
Yesterday, you would have said that Jungkook would catch you but today, the haunted look that creeps up on his gaze once in a while makes you think that perhaps he wouldn’t catch you at all. And though it saddens you, you don’t say anything.
You’ll have a better occasion later. 
At least that’s what you tell yourself as Jungkook loosely holds your hand after the restaurant, while you walk around aimlessly. He’s telling you stories about growing up, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he occasionally falls eerily silent, you’d think that he’s happy right now. He looks the part, beaming at you whenever your gazes connect, and it’s too easy to reciprocate.
You think it’s a good thing - you’re comfortable with Jungkook, even if the whole engagement party was weird. It only gets better when you near a club, and Jungkook stops with a mischievous look in his eyes that finally looks a lot more like the Jungkook that you know from college.
“Do you want to go clubbing?” he says.
You snort. “It’s not even nine pm.”
“And?” he presses.
“You want to go clubbing this early?”
He shrugs, grabbing your hand again to pull you towards the doorman. “We can sit and chat before the party starts.”
As a matter of fact, the party is already started inside the club. Indeed, it’s like you step in an alternate universe the moment you walk in, the crowd thick as they sway to the beat. You only understand that it’s a concert of some famous DJ when you’re stopped at the coat check because you don’t have any tickets.
To your luck, the girl informs you that there are a few tickets left, and you insist on paying since Jungkook bought you the overpriced dress you’re wearing.
The one you’ll likely ruin while partying.
The thought sobers you a little, up until Jungkook, buzzing with excitement, pulls you towards the bar after you’ve left your coats at the coat check.
“This is going to be fun,” he says over the loud music. 
You nod, though your mind is lingering somewhere back at the engagement party. “Are you okay?” you can’t help but ask.
Jungkook falls serious, clenching his jaw once. “It’s about my family, isn’t it?”
“Yes and no,” you say, worrying at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Tonight has been… weird.”
It’s unfortunately your turn to order, as the barman stops in front of you, and Jungkook quickly orders two gin and tonic for you both before resuming his attention on you.
“I know,” he agrees. “Family events are always weird around here.” He winces, shrugging his shoulders. “And if you want to speak about it, we can tomorrow. But right now I really just want to have a nice evening with you.”
He looks hopeful, lips jutting out in the trace of a pout, and his doe eyes hold so much softness you find yourself folding immediately.
He’s right - you want to have a nice evening with him too, and forget the shitshow that the engagement party was.
“Well then,” you say, offering him a corner smile that hints at mischief. “I hope you’re ready to party.”
He brightens, like the stars shining when there’s no light pollution. “Damn right, peach.”
The barman puts your drinks on the bar, and Jungkook hands you your glass. You grab the lime on the rim of the glass, squeezing it in the drink properly before dropping it amongst the ice cubes. Jungkook watches you, mirroring you after a few seconds.
“To partying,” you say, raising your glass.
Jungkook echoes, clinking his glass with yours and you both drink, the alcohol fresh and cold on your tongue. 
You linger by the bar long enough to finish your first drinks, talking about everything and nothing. By the time you’re taking your last sip, Jungkook is reminiscing about a party last semester, where Taehyung had tried hitting on a girl only to get rejected.
“He complained about it for weeks,” you remember. “Even though he was sleeping with…” You frown, unable to remember the girl’s name. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
Jungkook laughs. “Tae fucks around too much to remember everyone, I know.”
“As if you’re any better,” you tease, pushing him playfully.
He pouts, eyebrows bunching together as his doe eyes narrow. “I’m better now.”
“Are you?”
He moves closer to you, and your heart trips on itself in your chest as he rests his large hand on your waist, pulling you closer. “I definitely am.”
You don’t know who makes the move first. You just know that a second later, you’re cupping Jungkook’s cheeks, and his lips are on yours again. This time, he tastes of gin and lime, and a swipe of his tongue on your lower lip makes you sigh, your hands sliding to the back of his head to get lost in his soft hair. His hand rests flat on your back, as if to keep you from stepping away.
Like you would.
You don’t ever want to step away from Jungkook. Tonight, you think it doesn’t matter that he’s Taehyung’s best friend. It doesn’t matter that he is supposedly engaged to someone else. Right now, it feels like he’s yours - you’re foolish enough to believe that he is.
“Let’s dance,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours.
“Let’s grab something else to drink first.”
You grab Jungkook’s hand, pulling him closer to the bar again. He follows, his thumb soothingly rubbing circles on the back of your hand, and he doesn’t let go when you lean against the bar, attracting the barman’s attention.
“Are you up for some Jager bombs?” you suggest.
He smirks, looking downright devilish with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I’d never say no to Jager Bombs.”
That’s how you find yourself downing two shots each, and you’re getting pretty tipsy by the time the show starts, and Jungkook pulls you onto the dancefloor. You dance and dance, the atmosphere electric, Jungkook’s laugh so contagious you think you might have caught a happy disease. Because you can’t stop smiling, you can’t stop laughing. 
It’s like the engagement party never happened and frankly, it’s what you needed. 
Jungkook pulls you closer in the middle of the crowd, kissing you languidly. You’re quick to kiss him back, to push your tongue in his mouth the moment his lips part to allow entry. He grunts in the kiss, in the intensity that takes on the two of you even though you’re in public.
You want him so bad. You’ve always wanted him badly, but right now it’s making your blood sing in your veins.
But the evening is young still, and so you return to dancing, your back pressed against Jungkook. You sway your hips to the beat of the music, and he guides your motions, head hanging low. He occasionally presses soft kisses on the side of your face, and your eyes flutter shut in contentment.
If you’d die right now, you think you’d die happy.
“Peach,” Jungkook whispers.
Your eyes flutter open as you glance at him. The intensity in his gaze makes you feel smaller than a speck of dust. “What?”
“Should we go home?” he asks.
You glance towards the scene, where the DJ is clearly in the middle of his set. “The show’s not over yet.”
“I know.” He nips at your jaw, and you tilt your head to the side to allow him access to your neck. He’s quick to press an open-mouthed kiss there.
You turn in his hold, finding his lips again. This kiss is hotter, like fire blazing bright, and you, too, want to head home. You want to get lost in him, in this moment of him being yours out in public like this.
“Fuck, JK,” you whisper when you pull away, breathing raggedly.
“What?”
“Kissing you like this, where anyone can see…” you trail off, glancing at the crowd.
Nobody is paying you any attention, yet you feel like you’re the center of the universe right now. Or maybe that’s Jungkook - he’s the center of your universe.
“It’s turning me on,” you finish in a breathy sentence meant just for him.
“Peach,” he says, voice low and husky. It ignites even more warmth inside of you, and you think you’re about to melt in his touch. “Then I’ll bring you here more often. I’ll show everyone that you’re mine, mmh?”
That you’re mine. You like the sound of those words in his mouth far too much, even though part of you wants to reply that you’re your own self, and don’t belong to anyone.
Perhaps you want to belong to him, and that in and of itself is a far too dangerous thought. But New York shines tonight, and you feel infinite.
You are infinite, as long as he’s by your side.
You stay for the rest of the DJ’s set, despite you both wanting to go home. Jungkook is touchy, yet respectfully so as you dance, never really touching you where you want him, but his hands lingering near every fiery spot in your body. The Uber ride home is spent in tense silence, as is the walk up to the elevators of his building.
He holds your hand through it all, refusing to let go, and you like it.
You like everything about this moment, right now. Like you’ve stepped into an alternate universe where you really are his, and you pray you’ll never have to leave.
The elevator doors slide open, and Jungkook pulls you in. You’re disappointed when you notice a middle-aged woman already riding the elevator from the underground parking lot, and Jungkook politely nods to her as he presses the button for the highest floor.
Fortunately, the woman gets off on the eighth floor, and you’re left alone with Jungkook. He’s quick to spring into action, pushing you back against the wall so that he can steal a languid kiss of tongues and lips, of getting lost in him until you fully lose touch with reality.
“Fuck,” you breathe as Jungkook leaves a trail of hot kisses from your jaw to your neck. 
He sucks a hickey below your ear, and you can’t help but moan lightly as you drag your hands through his hair, leaving it dishevelled.
The doors of the elevator slide open, and Jungkook startles, taking a step back from you. One glance down reveals the proof of his attraction for you, and you really are aflame, burning from the inside out.
“I need to take a shower,” you say. 
A cold, cold shower, before you combust irreparably.
“Okay,” Jungkook lets out, and he grabs your hand again to pull you to the door. 
You don’t know how he does it, but he refrains from kissing you when you’re in. You’d expected him to jump on you - you practically wanted him to - but Jungkook, ever so the gentleman, only leads you inside and to his room. 
You take in the city skyline, the beauty of being so high you feel like you’re flying. The city sparkles, lights shining on and on, and you glance at Jungkook.
His eyes shine with undiluted lust and another emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. You just know it’s ten thousand times better than the shadows that had lingered in his gaze after the engagement party, and you want to cling to it.
“Do you want to take a shower with me?” you suggest as he helps you out of your coat.
“Want me to wash your hair?” he teases, flicking your nose.
He’s your Jungkook again, and an excited thrill goes through you. 
“Yes,” you say, smirking. “Maybe if you’re nice I’ll wash your back.”
He narrows his gaze, though his lips curve upwards. “I’m always nice.” He puts your coat away in the walk-in wardrobe, emerging without his own coat, too.
“Are you?”
You let out a yelp as he bends to pick you up bridal style. “Always,” he says, pecking your cheek once as you wrap your arms around his neck.
“You scared the shit out of me,” you grumble as he carries you to the bathroom, putting you down on the counter. 
“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not even a little bit sorry,” he teases, and he steals a quick kiss on your lips before stepping away from you to turn on the shower.
You watch him as he does so - he’s beautiful, with his dishevelled hair and big doe eyes he casts on you as he glances over his shoulder. He’s still smiling, his features so soft you can’t help but smile back, your heart fluttering in your chest.
“How hot do you want the shower to be?” he asks.
You smirk. “What kind of hot are you talking about?”
He rolls his eyes, though his light laugh fills the air. “Water temperature, dummy.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Just put it how you like it.”
He nods, and he does so, adjusting the settings until the multiple shower heads are on, and steam soon starts to waft out of the shower.
Jungkook walks back to you, toying with his piercings. You scan his features, lingering on his eyebrow piercing, and then spread your thighs so that he can step between your legs. He does so, wrapping his arms around your middle, and you rest your head on his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
He picks you up, putting you down on the floor. “Gotta get you out of your dress, mmh?”
Your heart once again hitches in your chest, and goosebumps rise on your arms as Jungkook lightly brushes his fingers up your skin.
“Turn around, peach,” he tells you.
You obey, and you watch yourself in the mirror as Jungkook unzips your dress. There’s something so intimate about the moment that your pulse skyrockets, butterflies making a mess of your stomach.
Jungkook finishes unzipping the dress, and he pushes it off your shoulders, pressing a kiss on the naked skin he’s revealed on the back of your shoulder. You feel apprehensive, like he hasn’t seen you naked before, and you gulp as he lets go of the dress, and it falls to the floor to pool around your ankles.
“You know,” Jungkook breathes as you shiver, the air colder than you expect. Your nipples perk on your chest, and Jungkook is quick to wrap his arms around you so that he can tease the sensitive buds with his fingers. “Every time I see you, you get more beautiful.”
“Jk…” you breathe out, cheeks burning under the intensity of his gaze.
“It’s true,” he insists. He turns you around, his eyes lost in yours. “There’s something about you…” he trails off.
He never finishes the sentence as you stand on your tiptoe, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt. Your mouths collide, and you sigh against the plump softness of him, kissing him softly, tenderly. He kisses you back just as softly, his hands holding you by the waist.
“Peach…” he sighs.
Your eyes flutter open to find him already looking at you, and you do feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when he looks at you like that.
“I think you’re supposed to undress too,” you whisper.
He chuckles softly, taking a step back from you. “Wanna help?”
You gulp again, your throat feeling dry, yet you raise trembling hands in the space between you so that you can reach for the buttons of his shirt. You focus on the task at hand, on every inch of honey skin revealed by the buttons coming undone. Jungkook’s intense gaze doesn’t leave your face as you undress him, and soon you’re pushing his shirt off him, resting your hands flat on his chest.
His heart is racing under your palms, the only indication that this is affecting him just as badly as it’s affecting you.
You meet his gaze as he takes charge of taking off his pants, and soon they’re on the floor with your dress and his shirt, and you both stand in your underwear, gazes embracing.
“I’m so going to take my time with you tonight,” he breathes, cupping your cheek. His thumb gently swipes at your skin, and you instinctively lean your head into his palm.
“Yeah?” you let out.
He tilts your head back with a finger under your chin, and then he’s kissing you again, as if to prove it to you with actions rather than words. “Definitely,” he says the second he pulls away. And then his hands go down your body, slowly, finding the hem of your panties. “Can I take this off?”
You nod, and he drops to his knees. Your eyes widen, yet he only busies himself with taking your underwear off, helping you step out of it once it’s around your ankles. He gets up again after, and he pushes his boxers down.
You’ve been avoiding looking at the obvious bulge in his underwear, but his dick stands proud and tall the second you glance down, already leaking precum. 
He’s been wanting you badly, and it shows.
“Shit, Jungkook,” you breathe.
“I know,” he lets out. “I’m fucking hard for you.” He chuckles, and grabs your face to force you to meet his gaze again. “From the mess I saw in your panties, I know you’re already soaked for me too.” He pecks your lips, and then your forehead. “But shower first, right?”
You kiss again, and this time he sucks your lower lip into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth.
“Shower first,” you repeat the second you pull away.
He smirks, winking at you, and then he walks over to the shower, leaving you there with your heart beating out of your chest. You take a deep breath, trying to tame the wild beats, and soon enough you follow Jungkook, right when he steps in the shower. He holds the glass door open for you, closing it behind you once you’re in, hot water splashing you.
You face Jungkook, and he looks at you with his head tilted to the side, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips.
“What?” you ask.
“Nothing,” he answers. “Pass me the soap?”
You nod, gulping, and you look away from him to find the soap. You grab it, handing it to Jungkook, and he gently takes it out of your hands.
“Turn around,” he tells you for the second time tonight. “I’ll wash your back.”
“Shouldn’t you start with my hair?” you ask.
He chuckles. “So bossy. Wet your hair then.”
You obey, and soon enough Jungkook is rubbing shampoo on your scalp, and your eyes flutter shut as you relax into the touch. He rinses your hair when he’s done, and then takes care of the conditioner.
“You like being pampered, don’t you?” he teases.
“Only if you’re the one pampering me,” you fire back. 
He laughs, and he presses a soft kiss on your forehead again. “Then I guess I need to pamper you more.”
You’re falling. You know exactly what’s happening, and you wonder if he feels it too.
“Let me take care of you,” you say once Jungkook is done with washing your hair.
He smiles down at you, nodding once. “Okay.”
And so you wash him, cleaning his back first. You teasingly rub his ass, and Jungkook throws you a glare over his shoulder that makes you burst out laughing. Once you’re done he turns around, and you gently rub his chest, a smile still curving your lips upwards as you fall in comfortable silence.
He isn’t so hard anymore. Yet, when your hands get lower on his abdomen, his dick twitches, and he’s quick to get hard again. You cock an eyebrow, looking up at him.
“I barely touch you and this is how you react?” you tease.
He grabs your jaw, his grip firm. “And now you’ll clean my dick too, won’t you?”
You blush, nodding once as he lets go of your jaw to cup your cheek instead. You wrap a hand around the base of his dick, and then you stroke him once. His lips part, and he pulls on his piercings before looking down at himself. 
“Let me…” he trails off, and you nod, stepping away from him to let him clean himself. You quickly wash yourself as he does so, cheeks burning so much you wouldn’t be surprised if you were purple.
Once you’re both cleaned, you face Jungkook again, and he offers you a soft smile. Unable to resist, you look down at his dick, reaching for him again.
“Now that you’re clean…” you let out, and you smirk. “Maybe I can actually take care of you?”
You don’t know where the courage comes from, but you’re not going to waste it. Indeed, you immediately drop to your knees, and Jungkook redirects the shower heads away from your face.
“Yeah?” he lets out. “You want to suck me?”
You nod, biting your bottom lip, and then you jerk him off once, eyes moving to his dick. It’s pretty, though not as hard as he was earlier, and you tentatively swirl your tongue around his tip, before sucking on it lightly.
Jungkook curses under his breath, leaning a hand against the wall as if looking for support. “Don’t be shy,” he says.
You smirk again, and this time you drag your tongue on the side of his dick, from base to top, before wrapping your lips around him again. You hollow your cheeks as you take most of him in your mouth, and Jungkook moans softly when he hits the back of your throat.
“Shit…” he lets out.
You suck harder as you pull almost all the way off, and then you truly get to work, eyes fluttering shut as you suck him, jerking him off in time with the motions of your head. Jungkook holds your head, letting you set the rhythm you feel comfortable with, and soon you’re moaning on his dick, the vibrations making him curse.
You take him all the way in, looking up at him despite the tears blinding your gaze. He’s got his head thrown back, lips parted as he breathes heavily, chest moving rapidly. You wonder if you’d be able to make him come like this, and you suck harder, holding in the gag reflex that’s threatening to interrupt your ministrations on him.
“Peach,” he moans, and then he pulls out of your mouth.
A string of spit connects his tip to your lips, and you’re quick to lick at it, to taste the precum that’s dripping from his slit.
“That feels good?” you ask.
He nods. “Way too much,” he replies, chuckling breathlessly. “I’m going to fall in love with your mouth if you keep sucking me like that.”
You don’t need more to spur you into action, and you go back to sucking him, pouring everything you have in the action. His dick gets harder and harder in your mouth, and you know he has to be close. So you tentatively tease his balls with your free hand, and he moans as you squeeze lightly.
“Peach,” he lets out, and it sounds whiny. “Stop. I want to fuck you now.”
You pull out, offering him an innocent pout as you keep jerking him off quickly. “You don’t think you’d be able to go for round two?”
He chuckles, slightly shaking his head. “Not when I drank. And I really just want to make you feel good too.”
Only for that reason do you let him pull you up to your feet, and you reluctantly let go of his dick as he pushes you against the tile wall, mouth immediately finding yours in a ravaging kiss. You moan as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, and you go back to jerking him off, unable to keep your hands off him.
He hisses as he pulls away from the kiss, and then he glances towards his discarded pants on the floor beyond the glass door of the shower. “I have condoms in there,” he reveals, and then he meets your gaze again. “But you deserve better than to be fucked in a shower, mmh?”
You gulp, nodding once as he steals another quick kiss on your lips, and then he turns off the shower. You stand in the steam for a few seconds, holding each other’s gaze, and then Jungkook pulls you out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you. 
You’re quick to dry yourself, lust and desire clouding your mind, and you don’t hesitate when Jungkook grabs your hand, pulling you towards his bedroom. The walk-in is cold as you step out of the bathroom, but you busy yourself with watching the strong muscles of his back, and the tattoos on his arm. It’s distracting enough, and soon Jungkook turns to face you again, kissing you deeply before pulling away.
“Do you want me to close the curtains?” he asks as he steps away from you, enough so that your eyes fall to his erection.
“You think people can see us?” you let out, casting a quick glance towards the tall windows, and the city beyond.
“Maybe, if they’re looking up here,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s never bothered me, but I’ve never been with anyone in this bed, so…”
Your gaze widens. “You’ve never fucked here?”
You think it’s blush creeping on his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve never brought a girl here at all.”
You let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry what?”
He winks at you, eyes going down your frame. They stop on your perked nipples, and he toys with his piercings.
“You’re the first girl who’s ever come here,” he says. “The first one I’ll fuck in this bed. And maybe I do want the city to see me fucking you. I want them to see how beautiful you are when you come.”
You’re speechless as he strolls towards you, and his mouth collides with yours, his lips moving like he’s a starved man against yours. He pushes you towards the bed, and you fall on it the second the back of your legs hit it. He looks at you, wetting his lips, and then winks.
“I’ll be right back.”
He disappears back into the walk-in, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he retrieves a condom from his wallet. He inspects the tinfoil package on the way back, making sure that the condom is safe to use, and then he rips it open, pulling the condom out.
He puts it on, rolling it down his dick as you watch with your heart beating wildly again as it knows what’s to come.
No one has ever fucked you as good as Jungkook, and you can tell he won’t disappoint tonight either. No, the intensity in his gaze can’t be mistaken, and the second he kneels between your legs you spread your thighs wide open, offering yourself on a silver platter.
“Already?” he teases, and he strokes himself slowly. “I thought you’d need a little bit of foreplay before.”
“Trust me,” you let out. “I’m already wet enough for you to rearrange my guts.”
He smirks, and he moves closer, close enough to rub his dick on your folds. “You are.” He says it like he’s surprised, but the second he starts rubbing his dick on your clit you’re gone, unable to form logical thoughts. “So you want me to fuck you? To rearrange your guts?”
“Jungkook,” is all you can reply.
He teases your folds again, pushes in just enough for his tip to part them. “Tell me what you want, peach.”
“I want you,” you say, and you don’t care how whiny you sound.
You feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you into oblivion.
“Where?” he asks, and he pulls away to rub his dick on your clit again.
You clench your jaw, reaching for his dick, but Jungkook is quick to grab your hand with his free one, pinning your wrist over your head.
“Be nice, mmh?” he says in your ear, and then he straightens.
“I want you inside of me, Jungkook.”
“Yeah?” He pushes in, though he stops when just his tip is in. “Like this?”
“Fuck, stop teasing,” you grumble.
Jungkook laughs, and a second later he slams home, his dick splitting you open as he pushes almost all of himself inside of you. You moan, your eyes fluttering shut, and he barely gives you time to adjust before he grabs your waist, and he starts pounding you, setting an unforgiving pace.
His thrusts are quick and hard, and you see stars almost immediately, your walls clenching around him. It doesn’t slow him down, only makes him readjust himself until he hits a better angle, and you moan loudly as he drags against the sweetest spot inside of you.
“Jungkook,” you moan.
He bends down, slowing just long enough to lean on his elbow, and then he holds your shoulders as he jackhammers into you again, so hard his bed bangs into the wall repeatedly.
There’s no one to hear you fucking here. And he knows it - it’s like he’s keen on rearranging your guts, and you’re a whining, moaning mess as he fucks you hard. You hold onto his back, nails digging in his skin and Jungkook grunts in your ears as his pace never falters.
You know he’s got good stamina, but tonight feels different, like he’ll fuck you until the sun rises.
“Shit, peach,” Jungkook lets out, and he pulls out of you so suddenly you’re left gasping for air.
“Wh-” you start, but he flips you over, repositioning himself so that he can push inside of you again. 
He doesn’t move right away, instead massaging your ass cheeks as your walls clench around his dick, begging for more. He slaps your ass, not hard enough to hurt but enough to sting, and you clutch the bed sheets, pushing your hips back into him.
“You want some control, mmh?” he asks, and he pulls back just enough to allow you more movement.
It doesn’t take you long before you take advantage of it, fucking yourself back on him, rolling your hips when he hits your cervix. 
“You’re so big,” you let out on a whine. “So deep.”
“And you take me so well, peach.” He slaps your ass again, massaging the sting away. “Like your pussy was made for me.”
“It was,” you reply right away.
Jungkook thrusts once, and you rock forward on the bed from the intensity of his motion. Luckily for you, he was holding your waist, and so his dick doesn’t leave you empty.
“Good girl,” he says, so low it sounds like a growl, and then he’s back to pounding inside of you, and you’re a mess, trying to hold yourself together as you clutch the sheets.
Jungkook leans on one hand, snapping his hips into you again and again, and he wraps his free hand under you, blindly searching for your clit. The second he touches the sensitive bundle of nerves you moan loudly again, and he doesn’t need more to start rubbing figures on you, quick circles that send you into orbit so fast you barely realize your orgasm has hit you until you come down from the high, legs shaking as your vision keeps going in and out of focus.
Jungkook stops moving for a few seconds, bending down to press a feathersoft kiss on the side of your face. “You came hard,” he states.
“Holy fuck,” is all you can reply.
“One day, I want to feel you come on my dick without a condom on,” he says, and then he’s fucking you again, though this time he’s clearly chasing his own high.
Yet it feels good, far too good, and you come again - did you actually stop coming in the first place - as he rams his hips into yours. Jungkook milks it out of you, whispering filthy praises to you all along, and once he’s sure you’ve calmed down, he pulls out, flipping you on your back again.
He steals a kiss on your lips as he pushes in again, and this time he fucks you slower, deeper, lips never leaving yours. You lose trembling hands in his hair, run them along his back, and you wrap your legs around his waist for him to fuck you deeper. He doesn’t disappoint, and you take all of him in you as he pushes in, and then pulls almost all the way out.
“I’ll fall in love with your pussy,” Jungkook whispers against you. 
He rests his forehead against yours, and your heart fills with far too many emotions - none you can voice. 
“JK…”
“Peach,” he answers in the same tone, and then he kisses you again. The second he breaks from the kiss he straightens, going back to kneeling between your legs. “Now be nice and let me come, mmh?”
“Come for me.”
“On it.”
You don’t know when he comes. All you know is that you’re swimming in far too much bliss when he starts fucking you hard again, and you lose touch with your body. It’s like you’re floating somewhere close to the ceiling, or maybe amongst the stars up above. You’re floating, and Jungkook grunts and curses as he fucks you, his motions growing sloppier, and soon he stills deep inside of you, hands holding your waist as he releases loads and loads of cum in the condom.
You wish he’d come inside of you so you’d feel it drip out of you when he pulls out. It’s a dirty thought to have, yet you can’t help it - not when you’re literally swimming in ecstasy, feeling like you’re buzzing.
Jungkook lies down next to you, resting a hand on your stomach as you try to regain your breath. It takes you a while - long enough for him to kiss the side of your face and promise he’ll be back as he disappears in the bathroom - but you do come down from the high, the bedroom and the city beyond the windows finally coming back into focus.
It’s raining. You didn’t realize it before, but raindrops are racing each other on the window, and you get lost admiring the view as Jungkook cleans himself in the bathroom.
He comes back with a wet washcloth for you to clean yourself, and you thank him as he offers it to you. You know you have to go pee before you sleep though, so you brave the walk to the bathroom, legs feeling like jelly under you. You manage to make it to the bathroom and back, and Jungkook welcomes you back into bed with a tired smile on his lips.
“Come here,” he says, and he opens his arms for you to nestle in his embrace.
You do so, pushing one leg between his as you wrap one arm around his waist.
“Feeling okay?” Jungkook asks.
“I think I’ll need weeks to recover,” you tease, and Jungkook’s answering laugh makes you feel like you’re the luckiest girl in the universe.
“Does that mean I can’t fuck you for a few weeks?” he asks, and you hear the pout in his voice.
It makes you smile against him.
“Mmmh,” you let out. “Nah, I want you to fuck me like this again tomorrow.”
He laughs again, and his arms tighten around you. “Then we better get a good night of sleep. We need to drive back home tomorrow.”
Back home. Together. Because, even if he’s Taehyung’s best friend, which you’ve conveniently forgotten all weekend, he’s also your roommate.
You share a home, and you think there’s beauty in that thought.
You yawn, nuzzling your face in his chest. “I don’t know about you but I’ll sleep like a rock.”
“And snore?”
“I don’t snore,” you answer, frowning slightly.
Jungkook chuckles and then kisses the top of your head. “You snore a little. Not as much as me though.”
“Tell me about it,” you complain, even though his soft snores had acted like white noise yesterday, helping you fall asleep despite the unfamiliar environment.
He yawns, pulling even closer. “Peach?”
You hum in answer.
“Thank you for this weekend,” he whispers. “I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”
“Jungkook…” you trail off, wanting to argue.
“I’m serious,” he insists. “You’re…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, and you pull away just enough so that you can look up at his face. “I’m what?”
“You’re you,” he answers, as if that explains anything.
And when you see the softness clinging to his gaze, you think maybe it does.
Prev | Chapter 8.5 | Next
☆☆☆☆☆
my two precious babies gosh we need to protect them at all costs fr :') did you guys like this chapter? Let me know what you think!
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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hatakemrs · 4 months
Text
Hq boys and the little things they do in their relationship pt.2
Warnings: None
Characters: Sugawara Koshi, Tsukishima Kei, Kozume Kenma, Bokuto Koutaro.
Pt.1 Pt.2
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Sugawara would remember small details about you. And when I say small, I mean even the tiniest ones! This man doesn't forget anything when it comes to you. He knows your go-to-coffee order. How much spice you want in your food. He remembers every achievement you told him about.That one time you won a debate in 8th grade? Or the one time you won a race? He remembers everything. One day you were wearing your shoes and he goes, "You're not gonna put the left one first?", seeing you confused he clarifies, "You always put on your left shoe first." He holds your hands whenever he sees you playing with your ring or fidgeting your fingers because he knows you're anxious.
Tsukishima makes playlists for you. It's probably something dumb named like "Eww love songs" but will have the most soft comforting love songs. He will share the playlist with you but will never admit that those songs remind him of you because that's so lame right? Also shares his headphones with you and only you because he doesn't like sharing. Look I also kind of think he listens to Taylor Swift but will rather die than admit it but when you play a song by her you can see him lip sync the lyrics. When you send him a playlist of the songs that reminds you of him, he teases you but does he play that playlist on repeat? Yes, especially if he misses you. Kei would also make a playlist where you can add your favourite songs along with his.
Kenma is weirdly attentive towards you. 'Weirdly' because he will play a game and it might seem like his whole focus is on the game but he hears everything you say. You would be ranting about your day while he's on his console saying, "Why did you stop? Tell me what that friend of yours said next." He would get off the console after a few minutes of course but you're surprised that he actually attentive and remembers what you told him. "How do you do that?", you finally asked him one day. " Do what?", his eyes were fixed on the screen. "Play the game and yet hear everything I say?", he just shrugs and says,   "Kuro should get credit for that. When we were young, he talked about volleyball and I just played my game but I had to pay attention to him or he would get annoying."
Bokuto lets you put makeup on his face. First he didn't agree to the idea, but you somehow convinced him and now he asks you sometimes to do it. You put fake eyelashes on him and he was shocked at how good he looks with those. He also likes when you paint his nails. He always picks black nails but sometimes he goes for colourful ones. He would even let you style him for a date. His own fashion sense is….. well not good. So you're his personal stylist and he doesn't mind if you put a little makeup on when he goes out because it makes his face look better. He would even show off his nails to his friends (especially Aakashi and Kuroo) and tell them how much you love him. He would be so proud that he was dressed by his s/o. Most of his fans online loved and appreciated this while others criticised him as it was not manly but he didn't care.
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A/n: Hope you guys liked it<3 Take caree <<3
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buggachat · 11 months
Text
seeing a lot of talk of the season 5 finale, which is fun, i get that it was controversial (honestly the fact it was really risky is kind of one of the things i like about it lol) and wanting to add my two cents but can't think of much i haven't already said before
but something i do want to emphasize is that season 5 ending on Marinette telling the biggest, boldest faced lie she's ever told (that goes far beyond "protecting her identity") to kick off the Lila arc is by far the coolest thing they could've done imo, because I was not at all excited for the Lila arc before but now I'm totally invested. Now Lila isn't the Evil Liar to be taken down by Good Marinette. Marinette is the liar to be taken down by the very liar that she took down. It's not a story of "defeat that freakishly evil girl" anymore, but instead a story of "Marinette's own actions and decisions coming back to bite her". And the lie itself (WHICH LILA KNOWS IS A LIE!!) only exists because, and is most impactful towards, her relationship with Adrien, which is the core of the series!! I CARE about their relationship, and that's the stakes!!!
I just cannot get over how cool that is, and how much I didn't expect it. I know we all were expecting a big fight with Ladybug and Chat Noir just defeating Gabriel and then watching Chat Noir cry or whatever in the few remaining minutes of screen-time and then it's all over and done with, but that's a series finale. This was a season finale. And they did something really unique and unexpected with it, while making sure it's a juicy season-finale conflict that leaves me actually excited about season 6
also, a side note— I think the framing of the finale made this confusing so I totally get why discussions about it are kind of all over the place, but... 90% of the post-wish stuff we saw had nothing to do with Gabriel at all. It was all Mayor Bustier, who was already running for mayor and wanted to enact green laws and projected to win (she was up against D'Argencourt, the character whose schtick is that nobody ever votes for him in elections). I don't think Gabriel's wish included "Please, Gimmi, I want my son's school teacher to win the mayoral election this year" lol. So a lot of talk of "why is Gabriel's World presented in such a positive light?" is kind of weird to me. That's not Gabriel's World. That's Caline Bustier's. All we know so far about Gabriel's World is that Nathalie is in it and he is not. And frankly, the fact everyone is so happy and cheerful and living it up after his death is more a roast than anything
( also, just a reminder that the presentation of Gabriel's statue— the only scene discussing Gabriel in a positive light by someone In The Know— was done by Tomoe Tsurugi, a series antagonist, vowing to continue his work, with a song in minor key playing in the background. i feel like the question of "was this meant to be unsettling or triumphant?" is pretty obvious. just wanted to remind everyone. also by definition characters cannot celebrate gabriel as a "hero" without in the same breath celebrating monarch's, aka gabriel's, death. yknow? )
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leilanihours · 4 months
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hi! can u write caitlin clark x reader where caitlin is dating a popstar like as big as taylor swift? pls and thank u
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# END GAME
pairing: caitlin clark x popstar!reader
word count: 2493
warnings: none !
summary: caitlin acting like an obsessed fangirl when she shows up at your concert.
⭑ from lani: this is the oldest ask i have in my inbox and ive been tryna clear out reqs so bear with me y'all!! also here is a link to the full piano version of end game from the eras tour if yall wanna watch that 😋
masterlist !
“GOD, I ACTUALLY have no idea why i’m like, nervous,” caitlin smiles shyly as she thinks out loud. she was currently being recorded for “full court press,” a docu-series that featured her story along with kamilla cardoso’s and kiki rice’s.
the director wanted to get some shots of caitlin being a normal civilian (whatever the hell that means), so he instructed the videographer to follow her around this weekend. and it just so happened that this was the weekend she had tickets for your concert. your twenty-second concert of the tour. let’s just say it was no coincidence that you chose iowa city as the twenty-second show.
right now, she was in the front seat of her family’s car while her older brother, blake, drove them to the venue. caitlin’s phone was currently connected to the car’s aux so she, of course, had to play your music. she had an entire playlist for only your songs, but she would never tell that to anyone. not even you.
“yeah why are you nervous? you just need to like, chill,” her brother says.
“this is my first time seeing her perform since…y’know,” she smirks, hinting at her secret relationship with you.
she shoots a mischievous look to the camera, knowing full well that the audience that would watch this wouldn’t know for sure what she was talking about.
“remind me how you got us free tickets again?” blake fake-questions. he knew about the relationship, each of your families did. but for the sake of the camera recording their every move, he eggs caitlin on.
“i’m close…with her um…management,” she lies as she picks up her phone to text you. the time read “5:04” meaning it was only a few hours until you went on stage.
both of you were ecstatic to see each other here for the first time in months. with caitlin being busy with her basketball career and you traveling constantly on tour, it was difficult, to say the least. that’s one of the reasons tonight was special. 
when planning out your tour, you requested that iowa city would be reserved for the twenty-second show of the north america leg and that it would be held at kinnick stadium. the reasoning behind it being the twenty-second show was obvious, as it was your girlfriend’s coveted jersey number.
the motivation for choosing kinnick stadium was that it was where you first met caitlin and where she broke an outstanding record with her team. you were one of the 55,646 people attending the iowa vs. depaul women’s basketball game in 2023. it became the most-attended women’s basketball game in history. you managed to get courtside tickets to the game and ended up getting to talk to caitlin after the win, which obviously led to something more valuable than friendship.
“have you ever talked to her? i heard she’s actually a fan of you,” her brother smirks.
“i’ve talked to her once in person,” she starts, lying of course, “it was actually here at kinnick when we played dupaul. she was in the audience, which was really cool.”
“oh that’s sick, actually. what about online? y’all don’t text or anything?”
“we do but, y’know, we’re not that close,” right as caitlin says this she receives a text from you saying the camera men were cleared for the show as long as they only recorded caitlin, not the show, “she just texted me actually,” she smiles big at the notification as she reads the text out loud. “how far are we from the stadium?”
“about ten minutes.”
“okay cool. i’m so excited, dude, you have no idea.”
“you’re such a fangirl,” blake laughs.
“okay we should have enough footage for now, we’ll start recording again once we get there or once the show starts,” the cameraman says from the backseat.
“sounds good, thank you,” caitlin replies as another text from you pops up on her screen.
my fav girl: can’t wait to see you babe i added a surprise to the setlist for you ☺️
my cc bby: omg no u didnt im alr so excited ur hyping me up even more
my fav girl: ur gonna love it trust 🫡
my fav girl: okay wait i gotta go get ready but ill see u soon!! love u!! 🤍
my cc bby: love u too ill see u out there!! 🤍
———
“i still can’t believe we’re here right now this is crazy,” caitlin says as she looks around the stadium that has started to fill with fans, “welcome to the ‘hits different’ world tour!” she motions to the stage behind her as she smiles at the camera with her arms up in the air.
your album “hits different” became a huge success in the past year. the internet buzzed with anticipation prior to the release and followed through with the praise the second it came out.
your fans posted reaction videos, theories, edits, the whole nine yards to show their appreciation. your songs were heard on radios, at bars, in school talent shows, literally everywhere. 
the album was about growing from the mistreatment from former partners and finding true love again after too many instances of hurt.
and right at the center of your inspiration was caitlin. even before you began dating in private, she was your best friend who comforted you through your big breakup. she lifted you up when you felt like you could never get up again.
you poured your heart and soul into the album, expressing all your deepest emotions - positive and negative - through the power of your writing.
you won multiple awards for the project, including vmas for your creative music videos and grammys for your productions. the whole world knew your name. it was everything you ever wanted. but there were downsides.
aside from the expected criticism and hate comments, you faced more serious problems. you started receiving intense backlash for some of the lyrics in your song that dissed your exes, and some people didn’t like your boldness. they retaliated, making it seem like you were the villain despite being so badly hurt from your past relationships. people claimed you were “crazy” and a “drama queen.”
fortunately, the speculations and assumptions only empowered you further. the only thing you had to say to those comments was: “remind me, who’s worth billions of dollars and taking the world by storm right now?”
“where are we sitting, cait?” blake asks.
“we’re in the vip section actually which is insane.”
“dude how did you get vip pit tickets??”
“no, not in the pit, we have our own tent on the floor, i think.”
“no way, bro, you’re lying.”
“i swear! look, see! oh my god our names are on chairs!” she runs over excitedly like a little kid at a playground. the whole experience is making her giddy, acting like a proud mom or teenage fangirl.
“how did you swing this??”
“i have my ways,” she winks at the camera, “the show starts in like an hour so we can chill and maybe get some food? i wanna say hi to other fans and see how they’re feeling.”
and with that she’s rushing back out of the tent and up the stairs to the concession stands swarmed with fans. it’s like she forgets she’s famous too because she gets surprised when her own fans spot her and ask for pictures.
———
“how you guys doin’ out there?” you say into your mic as you walk across the stage to your piano. you hear a raging storm of cheering in response, “sounds good, sounds good,” you laugh. there’s truly nothing you loved more than performing and interacting with your fans.
“so…” you start as you begin to play a few chords softly, “tonight is a very special night for me, for this tour. it is the twenty-second show and we are here in iowa city and i don’t think i could feel any happier,” you beam as you hear more enthused cheers.
“there are many reasons why tonight is special but the most important being…this is where i first met my partner.” the loudest set of cheers yet. your fans were always up to date with your life. they knew boundaries, of course, but they couldn’t help their curiosity. 
they cared about who you were with, there was no denying it, and they knew how you loved to draw your inspiration from your relationships. right now you only had one person in mind, but they had yet to figure out who it was exactly.
“and i wanted to give you all a little…gift, per se. let’s just say that i started working on a new album-“ an insane volume of screams cuts you off as you shake your head and laugh. “aw thanks! okay anyways, i’ve been very excited to post for you guys tonight and to see my partner who, yes, is in the crowd, so i wrote a little song.” more screams.
“-and i wanted to get your opinions on it! so here we go, this is the acoustic version of a new song called end game.”
you begin to sing an altered version of the upbeat song over the hums of the piano. the stadium was the quietest it had been all day as fans listened attentively to your lyrics. 
little did you know, caitlin was having a mental breakdown of excitement. her face was as red as a tomato and she was practically shaking.
she loved when you would mention her but not mention her. she loved knowing that your relationship was just yours at the moment. she loved knowing that no one could take it away from you. she loved knowing that you were only hers.
and right now, as you make your way through the song, she’s paying close attention to your words. this whole announcement was news to her, and she assumed it was the surprise you had mentioned earlier. she was grinning ear-to-ear as she listened to your voice echo throughout the stadium.
she was entranced by you. the delicate yet passionate tone of your singing, the beaming smile on your flawless face, your bubbly conversations with the crowd - everything.
you had her full attention as you practically declared your love for her in front of thousands of people - millions if you wanted to count the fans that watched through live streams. 
she was so enthralled that she didn’t even notice the cameraman pointing his equipment in her direction, capturing her hypnotized expression as she simply smiled watching you on the big screen. the viewers of the documentary would then know who she had fallen so hard for and who you dedicated many of your songs to, but she didn’t care.
all she cared about was you.
———
“thank you so much, iowa city i love you and we will see you all next time! get home safe please!!” you say into the mic as you begin to walk offstage. the sound of wild cheers, fireworks, and confetti cannons fill your ears.
as the final song of the show reaches its climax, you take a second to soak in the moment from the side of the stage. being a performer was one of your favorite parts of your job. you never got tired of any of it - the dancing, the singing, the fans - it was all part of why you started this in the first place.
a few minutes later, you are ushered away from the stage and back towards the dressing rooms to change out of your costume. you are handed a towel and water bottle as you make your way through the concrete tunnel with your staff right behind you. 
“y/n, you have a few guests that wanna say hi, would you like me to let them through?” your assistant asks you.
“who are they?” you reply. you weren’t expecting anyone to stay at the venue after the show. you insisted you would meet caitlin and her family back at the hotel so it couldn’t be her, right?
“oh they’re just over there actually,” she responds with a pointed finger, “do you recognize them?”
you follow her direction with furrowed brows only to be met with the familiar faces of your girlfriend and her brother. your jaw drops in shock as you immediately run over to her now outstretched arms.
when you jump to hug her, you both almost fall to the floor from the impact. her arms snake around your waist as she lifts you with ease, squeezing you tightly.
“hi,” you breathe out with a smile, nuzzling your neck into her tall frame.
“hi, princess,” she whispers into your hair.
“i thought we were meeting up at the hotel for dinner? i didn’t think you guys would stay here!”
“you think i could wait that long to see you when i could just finesse my way backstage??”
you laugh at her phrasing, the sound instantly making caitlin melt. “i missed you so much, dude, you have no idea.”
“i missed you too,” she smiles brightly as she sets you back down on the ground. her large hands move to cup your flushed cheeks, “you did so good out there, baby, i’m so proud of you.”
“thank you, cait, that really means a lot to me,” you say sincerely as you momentarily depart from her to greet her brother, “hey blake, how you doin’? enjoy the show?”
“i’m doin’ good, y/n, and yeah, i mean, it was incredible, really,” he answers as he goes to hug you.
“love to hear that, i’m glad you guys had fun!” you reach for caitlin’s hand, holding it gingerly as you begin to walk in the direction of the awaiting golf cart, “i have to change out of this really quick before we go but i’m gonna ask for a space for you guys to hangout in the mean time.”
“what, you mean you have to change out of that sparkly leotard and those four-inch heels?” the brunette jokes.
“i know it’s crazy, i actually wanted to keep everything as pj’s,” you play along as the two of you move to sit on the back of the golf cart.
while you two were entangled in each other’s presence, you failed to notice the cameraman, once again, recording your interaction. he made sure to get both of your permissions to add the clips into the documentary, but he couldn’t help but capture the authentic smiles on both of your faces. he knew that the viewers would be able to feel the love through the screen and be overwhelmed with joy for the two of you.
after tonight’s events, you and caitlin knew that the public would eventually be able to figure out the clues left that all pointed to your intimate relationship.
you were both aware of the consequences, the potential feedback from the internet, but their opinions didn’t matter. the only thing that mattered was that you really were each other’s end games.
— leilani signing off ! 📁
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sukiipjs · 8 months
Text
❧ ONLY YOU
°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•
↳ chris sturniolo x fem reader
↳ words - 1629
↳ summary - chris sees you with another guy at a party, he has to remind you that your his. only his. (this is freaky)
↳ contains - friends with benifits, smut, lowkey toxic 💀, rough sex, oral, gagging, hair pulling, swearing, spanking, mascohism, drinking, praise, degrading, pet names (baby), idk
↳ song - lights down low by maejor
°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•
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°:. *₊ ° . ☆
me and chris have a.. complicated relationship. he’s really hot, like really, but honestly he’s such an asshole. everything he does drives me up a fucking wall. all we do is fuck, have been for a while and its great but nothing more, and even though we are nothing more, everytime he sees me with another guy or thinks i’m with another guy, he gets pissed. but when he’s with another girl who cares? that hypocrite. every time i call him out he rolls his eyes and uses his famous line, ‘they don’t fuck me as good as you baby’
anyways. i’m getting ready for this party, i’ve been trying to ignore and forget chris, so why not go to some dumb partys? i get on a tight mini dress, it’s black and silky with thin straps, deep v neck and a cute bow on the back to match my new nails i got a few days ago, black french tips with some rhinestones. black eyeshadow and mascara, some of my favorite lipgloss, smells like strawberry and has glitter in it, almost half out of it already. i leave my hair down and i put on my black heels and finally i grab my small black purse with my lipgloss, my phone, and a condom that will hopefully be used!
i make my way to the party and when i walk into it, i already regret it. i go straight to where all the drinks are and pour some. i lean on the counter staying by the table of drinks and trying not to look too bored.
i look around seeing if anyone i know is here so i can actually talk to someone. as im looking and drinking some random dude comes up beside me, leaning on the counter next to me with a drink in his hand too. “hey” he nudges my shoulder a little, “uh hey?” he continues to talk to me and annoying me, eventually he says i’m ‘boring’ and goes to some other girl.
over time a maybe two other guys come up to me, annoying but one i’m still talking with, he’s actually kinda interesting, and cute. we talk a lot and laugh but then i feel two arms wrap around my waist, making me almost spill my drink. “the fuck?” i turn my head to see who and it’s chris, i see his eyes stare at the guy i’m talking to as he holds me. i roll my eyes as he speaks to the guy, what is wrong with him. “yeah i’m her boyfriend, so.” wait… im his WHAT? the guy looks a little uncomfortable then looks at me before walking off.
i back off from his arms and face toward him, “what the fuck is wrong with you? ‘i’m her boyfriend’ since when?” he laughs a little then takes a sip of his drink, “okay maybe i’m not but i don’t want him talking to you,” i roll my eyes and scoff, “why? every single time you see me with a guy, you make him leave but when your with a girl it’s all fine? we’re fucking! that’s all, so just shut up. i haven’t called you in a while for a reason,”
i see his eyes narrow as he sets his drink down and grabs my arm, “shut up and come with me,” i try to move my arm away from his grip but he pulls me toward some room, i set down my drink as we walk.
he pulls me into a bathroom and shuts the door, pushing me against the door after, “the fuck is wrong with you,” he holds me onto the door, staring at my eyes, “me? the fuck is wrong with you. you’re such an asshole!” one of his hands go to the back of my head, he pulls my hair making my head lean up to look at him better. he moves his head closer to mine, lips inches apart.
“i don’t remember you saying that shit when i was fucking you all those time, when you begged me to come over? yeah? begging me to keep going, fucking slut.” he spits back, “god chris. fuck off!” i try to put my arms on his chest to push him away, “just leave me alone.” i hear him laugh a little as he pushes down on my head, trying to get me on my knees. “just get on those knees and be fucking good? yeah?”
he manages to get me down, me kneeling in front of him as he still grips on my hair and the other to his pants as he pulls down his pants and boxers, my hands trying to push him away on his thighs, “all you do is talk, talk, talk, maybe you should put that mouth to good use,”
his dick springs out and hits my face as he pulls my head closer and the other hand holding his dick, guiding it on my lips as i seal them shut, or trying to. “cmon baby, open up,”
he pushes his dick more and more onto my lips, and finally i open my mouth and he pushes it inside, the tip hitting the back of my throat. “oh fuck baby,” he put his other hand on my head, both holding me down, pushing his dick all the way in. my hands on his legs trying to push away as i start gagging, spit dripping out of my mouth.
he bucks his hips into me more as i try to push myself away but i just hit my head on the door. tears start forming in my eyes as i try to catch my breath, but can’t with my mouth full. he finally pulls out my mouth, stroking his dick and finishing over my face as i close my eyes, panting. “aww, so pretty” he laughs as he kneels down a little, giving my cheek small pats then he grabs my jaw, making my head turn to him. “get up baby, you got this,”
i slowly get myself standing, still panting as he moves me to the counter of the sink and takes off my dress, a huge mirror on the wall. he’s behind me as he grabs my hair, pulling my head up, “look at yourself,” he smacks my ass with his other hand, i jump a little, opening my eyes as i see myself, “look at that slut,” my mascara and tears run down my cheeks, my hair frizzy and messed up, and his come across my face. i lift up my arm to wipe off some of the mess as he laughs, “mm, aren’t you so pretty?”
his hand moves to the front of me, reaching for my clit as he starts to circle it with his finger, my arms on the counter as my head drops and i start to whimper, “fuck! chris…” he moves faster as his length pokes against me. his mouth moving to my neck as he starts kissing and marking my neck.
he lifts his head to my ear as he whispers, “cmon, you’re mine right? only mine?” i try to nod my head as i moan, his breath on my neck. “no, say it. i need to hear it baby,” he moves my hair out of the way of my neck, to the other side, “i’m.. fuck.. i’m yours chris. only yours. only you, please..”
i feel his smirk grow on my neck as he goes back to kissing me, “good girl” my knees buckle as i start to feel even weaker, about to finish but suddenly he stops and i go back to panting and catching my breath as my moans stop.
“chris-“ he cuts me off, “oh don’t worry baby,” he quickly pushes his dick inside me, making my breath cut off, “fuck!” he pulls on my waist, making my elbows lay on the counter and making my back arch even more than it was.
one hand on my waist, guiding his deep thrusts and one on my head, pulling my hair again, making my head lean up, “watch me fuck you before i stop.” i force my eyes to open as i see him behind me thrusting, i mindlessly moan and whine as he fucks me good, forcing my eyes to not close, and staring at the mirror.
“chrisssss…” i moan as i start getting close again, his thrusts become deeper and faster, knowing that i’m close. “cmon baby, let it go” i can’t help but drop my head again, shutting my eyes as i finish over his dick. he keeps thrusting until he comes too, “oh fuck.”
he pulls out and gives me another smack on my ass, “such a good girl baby,” he speaks as he’s talking to a dog. i stand a bit straighter, my legs weak and shaking as i pant more and more, my eyes closing to rest. his hands come up to my shoulders, giving me a small massage.
“your mine right?” i nod as i try to open my mouth to speak but it takes a minute, “y-yes.. only you chris,” i pant. he takes his hand off me and starts getting clothed and putting my panties in his pocket as i’m still leaning on the counter still.
“cmon baby, i’ll help if you need,” i nod and he grabs my dress, nodding at me to put my arms up, i do and he slides it over me. “sit down,” again, i do. i sit on the edge of the bathtub as he grabs a random towel, wetting it and wiping off my face. “there you go,” he smiles throwing the towel elsewhere and leaning down to kiss me, “such a pretty girl,”
☆ °:. *₊ ° . °
649 notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 1 year
Text
Dick’s
pairing: Peter Parker x reader
synopsis: the only good part of your job at Dick’s Sporting Goods is how often Peter comes in to buy repairs for his suit
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“Back so soon?”
“What?” Peter looked up and pulled his earbud out when he heard you say something. You chuckled when you heard the music coming through his earbuds and continued scanning the spandex shirt he was buying.
“You were here two nights ago.” You reminded him. “And four days before that. You’re here all the time, actually.”
“Yeah, I am. How’d you know that?” Peter blushed as you handed him the bag of his stuff. You looked around for anyone who might be listening before motioning for Peter to come closer. His blush deepened and he leaned across the register.
“I work here.” You whispered in his ear. You cracked a smile as you leaned back and pointed to the Dick’s Sporting Goods logo on your uniform shirt.
“Right.” He laughed shyly. “Sorry.”
“It’s all cool. I’m sorry that I work here too.” You shrugged, making Peter laugh again.
“It can’t be that bad, can it?”
“The name of the store is Dick’s.” You said flatly. “And apparently, that’s the only kind of people they hire here.”
“Yeah. I asked someone for help finding the nuts and bolts and he asked if I looked in my mouth.” Peter admitted. Your jaw dropped in surprise before you burst out laughing.
“Who was it?” You asked him. “Did he have red hair?”
“Yeah. In the hardware section.”
“Fucking Jeremy. I’ll kick his ass for you, okay? I’m pretty sure he’s like 13 or something but I’ll still do it.” You said, and Peter couldn’t tell if you were joking or not.
“That’s really not necessary.” He laughed shyly.
“All right.” You nodded. “Just know that I would. I’ve been looking for a reason to kick his ass anyway.”
“Why?” Peter wondered.
“Didn’t you see his face? It’s so punchable. Plus, he watches videos in the break room at full volume with no earbuds in. And if he thinks the video is funny, he’ll rewatch it multiple times. So then we all have to hear this loud, unfunny video multiple times. It drives me crazy. He deserves to get his ass kicked. I might do it just for fun now.”
“His face was pretty punchable.” Peter admitted.
“Can we hurry this up? This is taking way too long.” A man behind Peter complained, making your smile fall.
“That’s what she said.” You mumbled as you grabbed Peters receipt.
“To him.” Peter replied. You looked up at him and smiled in surprise.
“Because he’s probably bad at sex.” Peter explained in a weak voice.
“No, I got it. And I appreciated it. Thanks.”
“No problem.” Peter laughed shyly.
“One last question for you. Then I have to help Mr. Clean with his very important purchase of golf ball cleaner.” You said as you nodded towards the guy behind Peter.
“Oh, sure. Ask away.”
“Are you listening to Judas by Lady Gaga?” You asked and pointed to Peters earbuds. He turned red in embarrassment and thought about lying, but you clearly already knew.
“It’s her best song.” He said simply.
“Oh, I know that.” You assured him. “I just wanted to make sure that you know that.”
“Oh, I do.” He matched your tone, making you smile.
“Well all right then. Have a good night. See you really soon probably.” You teased him.
“Yeah. See you soon.” Peter smiled at you as he took his receipt.
Peter practically skipped out of Dicks that night. He frequented the store every time his suit needed a repair and had seen you working there a few times, forever looking miserable behind the cash register. He just never thought you’d notice him too.
A few nights later, Peter busted the eye on his mask while on patrol. He dropped his suit off at home and when to Dick’s Sporting Goods to get something to replace it. When he brought it up to the register to buy and smiled when he saw you.
“Hey.” You smirked at him and blew a bubble with your gum.
“Hey.” He smiled softly at you.
“Gum?”
“What?” He asked. You wordlessly held up a pack of Big League Chew and blew another bubble.
“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving.” He replied without thinking. He felt embarrassed for malign a stupid joke but you cracked up over it.
“I use that joke all the time.” You laughed. “Except I usually say “no thanks, I’m trying to quit.” I haven’t heard that one before.”
“I like yours better.” Peter tried to flirt.
“You can steal it. I won’t mind.” You winked at him and blew another big pink bubble. Peter gulped as you handed him his bag.
“Thanks. Have a good night.”
“You too.” You called after him as he left the store.
He returned a few days later, not that he needed anything. He was here for you this time. He came into the store at night with a plan to learn your name. It wasn’t much, but it was a step towards getting to know you better.
“Hey, Judas Boy.” You waved to Peter from behind the register.
“Hey, Dick’s girl.” He waved back and grabbed some spandex before heading to the register.
“Oh, thank God.” You said sarcastically. “You haven’t bough red and blue spandex shirts in almost a week. I was worried you were going to run out.”
“I almost did. This week has not been easy.” Peter humored you. You smiled when he played along and put his stuff into a bag.
“How come you guys don’t wear name tags?” Peter asked you as he put his plan into action.
“We’re supposed to. We’re also supposed to wear hard shoes and khaki pants.” You said behind your hand and pointed your foot out from behind the register to show him your leggings and crocs.
“I see. Not much of a rule follower?”
“I can be. But not for Dicks. Nothing for Dicks.” You said with such passion he couldn’t tell if you were kidding or not.
“But where else can you find a spandex section like this?” Peter joked and held up his bag.
“Models. Target. Walmart. Patagonia.“ You started to list off.
“Okay, sure.” Peter agreed. “But Dicks is the only one that carries red and blue.”
“Oh, I see. And red is blue is the only kind you can buy?” You chuckled.
“Obviously. What am I supposed to wear? Black?” Peter grimaced, making you laugh again.
“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? I’ve always wondered that. Why could you possibly be doing that you need all this red and blue spandex clothing?”
“Cause I’m Spiderman.” Peter said with a simply shrug. He held his breath and hoped you take that as a joke, which of course, you did.
“That’s hot.” You smirked and handed him his receipt.
“Have a good night.” He told you.
“Night.”
Peter was back just a few nights later. He never actually learned your name, so he technically had an excuse to return. He brought a spandex shirt up to the register and you laughed when you saw it.
“I think you’re single handedly funding our red and blue spandex supply.”
“Really? I’m the only one who buys it?”
“Just you.” You nodded. “My boss said he wasn’t gonna order anymore but I told him that would be making one special customer very unhappy.”
“You told him to order more just for me?” Peter smiled shyly and felt his blush go all the way to his ears.
“Duh.” You scoffed. “I gotta earn that sweet, sweet $15 an hour somehow. Pleasing one specific customer is how I choose to do it.”
“$15 an hour to work by yourself every night is insane. But I don’t even get paid for my job, so I’m not one to talk.”
“What is your job?” You wondered.
“I told you. I’m Spiderman.”
“No, but really.” You laughed. Peter looked down at the spandex and tried to think of any other profession that could explain why he was always buying it.
“I’m a male ballerina.” He said finally.
“For real?” Your eyes widened. “That’s way cooler.”
“Cooler than Spiderman?”
“Hell yeah.” You scoffed. “I’ve never seen Spiderman do a pas de deux.”
“I’ve never seen anyone do a pack de- um…”
“Pas de deux.” You chuckled when he couldn’t say the word.
“Yeah. That.” He blushed again.
“Have a good night then, nutcracker.” You said with a wink.
“Night, Dick‘s girls.”
The next time Peter came into the store, he had to stay away from the spandex section. May was getting suspicious about why he was buying so much when his suit didn’t have any visible damage, so he had to think of something else.
“Gummy worms?” You asked as Peter dropped a bag of sour gummy worms on the counter.
“You sell them. So I’m buying them.” He shrugged. You laughed as you scanned it and looked up at him.
“Do you live around here?”
“About 4 blocks away.” He answered. “Why?”
“Because this is New York. Which means you had to have passed, at the very least, 4 corner stores to get here. All of which sell gummy worms. And yet, you chose to walk all the way to a sporting goods store to get them. Why is that?” You asked as you leaned on the counter.
“I didn’t need spandex tonight.” He admitted as a blush painted his cheeks.
“Then why’d you come out here?” You smirked.
“Because I’m a stalker. And I’m learning your schedule so I can smite you and wear your skin.” He replied without thinking. He held his breath again but was sure you would not find a joke about him killing you to be funny. But to his surprise, you smirked in amusement.
“That’s hot.” You said replied. “Can you cover my shifts for me once you start wearing my skin?”
“Sure.” He shrugged.
“Cool. Enjoy your worms.” You chuckled and handed him his candy. Peter was about to leave when he decided to rip open the bag and hand you a worm.
“For your troubles, madam.” He said, then made a dash for the door. He heard you laughing as he walked out into the street, making it all worth while.
Peter returned to the store the next day but felt his heart sink in disappointment when he didn’t see you behind the register. He turned to leave and jumped when you were standing right behind him.
“Have you ever seen Black Swan?” You asked him.
“What? Jesus Christ. You scared me.” He said and put his hand over his pounding heart.
“You’re a male ballerina, right? You must’ve seen Black Swan.”
“No. I’ve never heard of it.” Peter answered as his eyes darted to the side.
“That was the face of a man who has 100% seen lezzy wet dream scene from Black Swan.” You laughed and pointed to him.
“Maybe once or twice.” His whispered.
“Well I’m going on break now and I was gonna go watch it in the storage room.”
“Oh. That sounds fun.”
“You wanna come?” You asked him like it was the most casual suggestion in the world. Peter looked around to see if any customers or employees were watching before following you into the back. He knew he shouldn’t be walking through a door that said “employees only”, but he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to hang out with you.
“Am I allowed back here?” Peter whispered and stayed close behind you.
“Probably not.” You shrugged and led him to the storage room. You shut the door behind the two of you and sat down on one of the shelves.
“Will you get in trouble?” Peter asked as he took a seat beside you.
“Maybe.” You shrugged again and pulled the movie up on your phone.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble with your manager. I’d feel horrible.”
“Dude, my manger is 17 and high as a kite right now.” You snorted. “He won’t care as long as we don’t interrupt his vape session.”
“Oh. Okay.” Peter relaxed and leaned against the wall. You shoulders were touching and he realized this was the closest you’d ever been.
“Here. I didn’t want to subject you to using a strangers earbuds so I stole this from the front.” You said as you pulled new earbuds out of your pocket. You tore them out of the plastic casing and plugged them into your phone before offering Peter one.
“They’re your favorite colors, right?” You asked in a soft voice. The earbuds were red and blue, the only colors Peter ever bought. They weren’t actually his favorite colors, just the color of his suit, but he thought it was cute that you specifically got this pair thinking he’d like the colors.
“Yeah. Red and blue are great.” He smiled softly and put his earbud in. You put the other in and started the movie. Peter couldn’t pay attention to a single second because the smell of your perfume was triggering all his senses. He stared at you instead of the screen until his eyes landed on the earbuds connecting you.
“I can’t believe you stole for me.” He said with a smug grin.
“Relax. I don’t do it often. But I did also steal these for you.” You said and pulled a pack of gummy worms out of your other pocket. Peters face lit up and he opened the worms before handing you one. Your fingers touched at one point when you both reached for a word and he gulped.
“When did you take these anyway?” He wondered.
“A couple hours ago when I first clocked in.” You replied. “I made sure to wait until I was on the company’s time before I took them. I don’t do anything here until I’m on the company’s time.”
“So you knew you were going to ask me to watch this with you when you first got here?” He asked as a smile crossed his face. You looked up from the movie and sheepishly turned to face him.
“You always come in at this time. And I’ve always wanted to see this movie. I figured you’d like it because you like ballet. Is that weird?” You asked, sounding nervous for the first time.
“No. It’s not weird.” Peter shook his head to assure you. You smiled in appreciation and nodded before turning back to the movie. Peter was able to focus on it now, but couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you.
“I love getting paid to watch gay movies.” You sighed happily as the movie neared its end.
“You need to make money somehow. God, I need a job. I’m gonna go broke from this store alone.”
“You’ve never looked at your receipt, have you?” You chuckled and looked over at him.
“No. Why?”
“Every time you come in here, I only charge you for tic tacs.” You admitted. “No matter what you buy, I just remove the tag and then scan a pack of wintergreen tic tacs.”
“Wait, seriously? Why?” He smiled curiously and turned to face you.
“Because then I can eat the tic tacs without feeling bad about stealing since you paid for them.” You shrugged. “And so that you don’t give all your money to Dick’s Sporting Goods just to fuel your spandex fetish. You only ever spend a dollar or so when you come here. I can’t believe you never realized that.”
“So you’ve been saving me money this whole time? Those shirts are like $15 each.”
“Isn’t that crazy?” You chuckled. “An hour of my work is worth a single, thin shirt. That makes me feel less guilty about never making you pay.”
“You’re really cool for that. Thanks.” Peter said sincerely.
“Yeah, well. I think you’re cool too.” You shrugged and looked down so he couldn’t see your smile. Peter stared at you with a dreamy smile on his face until he noticed the clock behind you.
“How long is your break?” He wondered.
“15 minutes.” You shrugged.
“15 minutes?! We’ve been back for over an hour.” Peter whispered harshly.
“Jeremys got it.” You waved your hand. “I cover for him all the time. He owes me.”
“Okay, good.” Peter sighed. “As long as you won’t get in trouble.”
“Will you stop worrying about me? I’ll be fine. You need to start breaking a few rules every now and then. Do you always do exactly what you’re expected to?”
“You’d be surprised.” Peter mumbled and debated telling you the reason he was always buying red and blue spandex. You noticed he had a far off look in his eyes and moved his chin to make him look at you.
“You never told me your name, by the way.” You said in a soft voice.
“It’s Peter.” He replied as his eyes dropped to your lips. “What’s yours?”
“Y/N!” Jeremey came barging into the m storage room, making you and Peter jump away from each other.
“Oh, there you are.” Jeremy smiled calmly. “Can you help me ring this guy up? He has a coupon but it’s expired.”
“So then he doesn’t have a coupon.”
“I know but he’s being really annoying about it and told me to get the manger but Kyle is vaping and said not to disturb him.” Jeremy whined.
“Damn, still? How long has this kid been vaping for? Are we even sure he’s alive?” Peter asked.
“Wait, who’s that?” Jeremy frowned and pointed to Peter. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look.
“That’s Peter. He works the night shift.” You said quickly.
“I’m Peter. I work the night shift.” Peter nodded in agreement.
“Oh. Okay. I don’t really care. You could’ve been back here smocking crack and sucking dick with a total stranger and I would not have batted an eye. Lord knows I’ve done it. But I do really need your help with the coupon.”
“Ugh. Fine.” You grumbled and got up to go follow Jeremy. Peter got up as well to let himself out.
“See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm before heading back to the register. Peter touched the part of his arm where you’d hand had been and smiled softly.
“See you later.”
Peter walked out of the store with a huge smile on his face. But loud noises coming from dumpster behind the store caught Peters attention. He climbed up the wall and walked along the roof so he could scope out what was going on. When Peter saw two guys trying to pick the lock to the back door, he quickly pulled his suit out of his backpack and put it on. He dropped down behind the two guys and cleared his throat when they didn’t hear him.
“Hey guys. I guess you didn’t see the front door. It’s right around the block under the huge, glowing sign that says Dick’s.” Peter said sarcastically. The guys stopped what they were doing and wiped around.
“Woah. It’s the Spiderman.” One of the guys gasped.
“Why do people always say “the” Spiderman?” Peter wondered. “It’s just Spiderman. I was very clear about that when I first started.”
“Let’s get this freak.” The other guy said and started walking towards Peter.
“Before we fight, I should let you guys know that two against one isn’t really fair when the one has web shooters.” Peter said as he raised his fists. His cocky smile disappeared when three more guys came out of the shadows and closed in on him. The five guys took turns punching and kicking Peter until he laid on the ground in a ball. He struggled to catch his breath and coughed up some blood as one of the guys delivered another kick to his stomach. One of them rolled him over and climbed on top of him with his fist raised in the air. Peter accepted his fate and was about to shut his eyes when a hammer, still in its package, came flying through the air and hit the guy in the head. The man grunted in pain and fell off of Peter. This gave Peter enough time to crawl away as more hammers were thrown in the direction of the men. Peter weakly looked up and saw you standing in the doorway with a bunch of hammers in your arms that you were haphazardly throwing at the men.
“Eat my hammer!” You yelled and threw another hammer at the head of one of the guys. Peter let out a weak laugh and clutched his side in pain.
“Dick’s girl?” He asked groggily.
“It’s Y/n.” You reminded him and threw another hammer. This time, one of the guys caught the hammer and started running towards you. Before Peter could get up to protect you, you pulled a bowling ball out from the floor beneath you and threw it at the guy. He was knocked to the ground as you pulled something else behind your bat. When you stepped under a streetlight, Peter as able to see you had taken a lacrosse stick from the store. You whacked one of the guys across the face so hard that he fell to the ground. You swept the leg of another guy, leaving only one standing. Peter held his aching body as you fearlessly walked up to the final goon.
“Spiderman over here is my friend. He’s one of the much, much friendlier Avengers. But not me. I’m fucking mental. I was trained in kung fu for the moment I could walk. I was raised to be a weapon. You don’t want to mess with me.” You said to the man as your rung the lacrosse stick in your hands.
“Oh please. I’ve taken shits bigger than you.” The man sneered and pointed to you. You smirked and caught his finger between your thumb and index finger while keeping your pinky upright.
“You see this? This is called the Wuxi Finger hold. If I bend my pinky, your chi is gonna be so fucked that all the bones in your body will break and half this block will be decimated.” You told him
“You’re bluffing.” He scoffed. “That’s not possible.”
“You wanna find out?” You asked and tightened your grip on his finger. The man’s eyes flicked between your face and his finger as he debated whether or not he believed you.
“This chick is crazy. Let’s get out of here.” The guys finally decided and took off running. The four others groaned as the got up and ran away as well. You sighed and threw the bloody lacrosse stick into the dumpster before looking down at Peter.
“So you’re not a male ballerina?”
“No. I’m Spiderman.”
“That’s not as cool.” You mumbled and bent down to help him sit up fully.
“Can you really break all his bones with one finger?” Peter asked you.
“Huh? Oh, no.” You chuckled. “I stole that shit from Kung Fu Panda. Those ska-douches clearly don’t have good taste in movies so they didn’t even realize.”
“Oh.” Peter smiled weakly. “Well, thanks for saving me.”
“You’re welcome, Peter. Come on.” You winked at him and carefully helped him stand up. You wrapped his arm around you and helped him limp his way into the break room. You raided the sports injury aisle before helped Peter up onto a table.
“Am I allowed to be back here?” Peter asked as he pulled his mask off.
“No one’s gonna know. Kyles vaping in the baseball aisle and Jeremy went home.” You said and set the supplies you had taken down on the table beside him.
“Are you allowed to take those?”
“You are quite a rule follower for the face of illegal vigilanteism, you know that?” You chuckled and opened a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
“I’m actually not a vigilante. I’m on Mr. Starks roster. We have government clearance.”
“Okay. So just tell yourself I have government clearance to steal these supplies.” You told him, making him laugh. You laughed as well and started to clean him up. Peter stared at you fondly as you patched up his wounds.
“I really appreciate you trying to help me, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I’m in charge of filling out the inventory catalogues when we get shipments. I can easily make it look like these supplies never existed. Don’t worry, okay? And even if I do get in trouble, it’ll be worth it.” You said without looking at him.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Peter asked softly. “Why are you always so nice to me?”
“Because I like you.” You shrugged. “I think you’re cool.”
“You do?”
“Is that shocking?” You laughed and cleaned a cut above his eyebrow.
“Kinda. I’m kinda a loser.”
“Really? Because I didn’t see any losers out there tonight. You know, other than those five losers trying to break into a Dick’s sporting goods. I’m really glad all the golf pencils and eye paint are safe.” You said sarcastically. Peter laughed and rested his hands on your hips.
“I like you too, by the way.”
“You do?” You asked skeptically.
“A lot, actually. Sometimes, I don’t even need anything. I just come here and hope you’re working.”
“Well I asked my boss to only schedule me at night because you never come in during the day.” You playfully one upped him.
“Really? You did that because of me?” He smiled fondly.
“You coming in here is the only good thing about this place.” You answered honestly.
“You’re the only reason I come.” Peter told you.
“Ayo.” You snickered.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughed sheepishly.
“It’s okay. It was funny.”
“No you know why I’m always in here buying spandex and random things. I bust up my suit a lot and the guy who made it for me isn’t around anymore.”
“It’s a pretty cool suit. I can’t even tell where you’ve patched it up. I guess our spandex is just really high quality.”
“You got some pretty cool clothes yourself. Not everyone can pull off Hunter green.”
“Wanna see something?” You asked and unzipped the green Dick’s zip up on had on to reveal a black T- shirt underneath that read “I heart Dick’s” with the stores logo in the heart.
“I heart dicks? No way that’s a real uniform.” Peter laughed and pulled on your shirt to read it better.
“Yep. I couldn’t believe it either. I guess the Boomers that make our uniforms don’t see penis humor in everything like our generation does. I tried to tell my boss that these shirts were ridiculous but he said he’d fire me if I didn’t wear it. Even though I literally hate Dick’s.”
“You do?”
“Not that kind of dick.” You laughed. “I meant the store. If this place burned down, I wouldn’t pee on it to put it out. In fact, I probably started the fire.”
“Then why don’t you quit?”
“I need a job.” You shrugged. “And they’re super understaffed so they give me a lot of hours. Plus, if I left, how would I see you?”
“We could hang out. Preferably not in a Dick’s sporting goods.” Peter suggested.
“That’s my favorite place to hang out.” You smiled. “Can I give you my number?”
“I mean, if you want.” Peter joked as he handed you his phone. You put his number in and handed it back to him.
“There. That’s my number.”
“It’s hot.” He said as he looked at it. He gulped and looked up at you, thinking you’d find that weird.
“You’re such a weirdo.” You chuckled. “You better text me.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Good.” You said and poked his chest. Peter stared at you for a moment as a smile tugged on his lips.
“Would it be weird if we kissed right now?” He asked you.
“Yes.” You scoffed. “You’re covered in blood and gravel.”
“Oh. Yeah. You’re right.” He blushed in embarrassment and nodded his head. You cracked a smile before wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him. Peter felt love in that Dick’s Sporting Goods that night. It was all around him. The kiss ended sooner than he would’ve liked, but it was still perfect.
“Hey, you did it anyway.” He smiled in surprise.
“Yeah, well. I wanted to.” You laughed shyly and kept your arms around his neck.
“And then she kissed me anyway. And she got Neosporin all over her face. And my blood! It was insane, Ned. I wish you could’ve seen her with the lacrosse stick. She destroyed so much store property. It was incredible.” Peter jumped in excitement as he recanted the story to Ned the next day.
“You had your first kiss in Dicks sporting goods?” Ned whispered in awe.
“Uh huh.” Peter nodded.
“What are you guys talking about?” Flash asked as he stuck his head between Peter and Ned.
“Nothing.” Peter said quickly and gave Ned a look.
“Peter kissed the hot Dicks cashier.” Ned blurted.
“Ned!” Peter whispered harshly. “Why would you tell him that?”
“You kissed Alejandro?” Flash gasped and looked jealous.
“What? No. Who even is that?”
“I know all the Dicks sporting goods employees by name. I’m in there all the time buying golf and tennis and bad mitten shit because I’m rich as fuck. If it wasn’t Alejandro, then who was it?” Flash questioned.
“Her name is Y/n. She works the closing shift.” Peter told him.
“Wait, the one with the rebellious gleam in her eyes? No way you kissed her.” Flash snorted. “I’ve been trying to get her number for months.”
“Really? Because I got it last night.” Peter replied with a shrug.
“And a smooch.” Ned added. “On the mouth.”
“He knows where, Ned.” Peter whispered without taking his eyes off Flash.
“There is no way in hell that Penis Parker was macking on a hot cashier. And at Dick’s sporting goods no less.” Flash laughed loudly, drawing the attention of students passing by.
“It’s true.” Peter insisted. “And I don’t care if you believe me or not. Because I know it’s real.”
“Wow. You hear that, everybody? Penis Parker has a fake girlfriend!” Flash shouted in the hallway. People stopped to laugh and point at Peter, making him turn red.
“What? No I don’t.”
“He’s pretending he had a girlfriend who works at Dicks Sporting Goods to make up for the fact that no one will ever touch his dicks sporting goods.” Flash said even louder.
“Oh my God. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Peter grumbled and Ned followed after him as he left. Once they were out of the crowd, Peter pulled his phone out and looked over your last conversation.
“Do you think it’s weird she hasn’t texted me back in a while?” He asked Ned.
“Well what was the last thing you guys talked about?”
“We were in the middle of a conversation about the best Adam Sandler movie and she ghosted me.” Peter said as he checked the time. Your shift had definitely started by now and he knew you texted on company time.
“Is she working tonight?”
“Yeah. Closing shift.”
“So go visit her.” Ned shrugged.
“What if she doesn’t want to see me?” Peter worried.
“She wouldn’t have kissed you if she didn’t like you.” Ned reminded him.
“I guess so. Okay. I’ll go see her after class.”
Once Peters last class ended, he pulled out his phone to call you as he walked in the direction of your store. You answered the phone but didn’t say anything.
“Hey. I was just thinking of you.” Peter said into the phone.
“Peter.” You whispered in a shaky voice. He could tell you were crying and froze in his tracks.
“I was planning on stopping by. Is everything okay?” He asked and quickened his pace in the direction of the store.
“No. I don’t think you should come in.” You said quietly. Peter stopped walking and felt his heart sink. You must’ve lost feelings after the kiss and didn’t want to hang out anymore.
“Oh. Oh, okay. No problem. I won’t come by.” He said and tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt.
“But maybe your friend can come in?” You asked, making his senses tingle.
“My friend?” He asked and started towards the store again.
“Yeah. The ballerina.” You replied and he knew exactly what you meant. Peter stopped in an alleyway to throw on his suit before running towards the store.
“Are you in danger?”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” You said with a forced laugh.
“I’ll be right there. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Who are you talking to? Is that a phone? I said all phones in the bag.” Peter heard from your end of the phone. You hung up after that and Peter raced to the store. When he got there, he snuck in through the back and quietly made his way to the front. He found you behind the register with your hands up in the air as a man in a hulk mask stood in front of you.
“Hey, buddy. Let me guess. The last jock strap you bought was too loose you’re back for another one?” Peter said, making the guy whip around. That’s when Peter saw the gun in his hand and froze.
“Oh. My bad. I didn’t see the gun from behind.” Peter said and put his hands in the air. He made eye contact with you from behind the register and you mouthed that you were sorry.
“Why don’t you walk out of here and pretend you didn’t see anything, okay pal?” The man said as he pointed the gun back at you.
“Sorry sir, but I can’t do that. You see, I’m quite taken with the cashier you’re holding at gunpoint here.” Peter said and pointed to you. You let out a short laugh as tears fell down your face.
“Good. Then you can watch me blow her head to bits.” The man said and took a step towards you. You let out a little squeak in fear and shut your eyes.
“Can I convince you to reconsider? She’s got a great head. I’d hate to see it get blown off.” Peter said calmly and slowly made his way towards the man.
“I said you could take the money. Just take it and leave.” You pleaded with the man.
“There was only $36.62 in there. I didn’t rob store for less than 40 bucks.” The man shouted at you.
“No one uses cash anymore.” You whimpered. “It’s all Apple Pay.”
“Then tell me the combination to the safe.” He yelled and tightened his grip on the gun.
“I don’t remember it.” You cried. “I don’t listen when my boss talks to me.”
“You’re lying! I know you know.”
“Why would I lie? You think I’d risk my life to protect this store? I hate this store. It’s so stupid. Why is it called Dick’s? Who is Dick?”
“She’s making some excellent points.” Peter agreed.
“Both of you shut up! Give me the combination to the safe now or I’ll shoot you both.”
“I don’t know it!” You exclaimed. “I don’t even know the address to this place.”
“You think this is funny?” The man asked and took a step closer to you to the gun was pressed against your forehead.
“Not right now but I probably will later.” You answered honestly.
“That’s it. You’re dead.” The man said and cocked his gun.
“No!” Peter exclaimed as he dove towards you. He knocked you safely onto the ground while the man shot him three times in the chest. You screamed as Peter fell to the ground in a thud. You were about to reach for him when he jumped back up on his feet.
“Just kidding! It’s bulletproof.” Peter said cheerfully as he shot a web at the man’s gun. He yanked it out of his hand and threw it to the side before shooting two more webs that stuck the man’s arms to his sides and glued his legs to together. The man fell to the ground and tried to break free, but was unsuccessful. Peter shot one last web at the man’s face before pulling his mask off. He turned around to ask you if you were okay and was immediately met by you throwing your arms around him. He pulled his mask off before hugging you back tightly until your breathing calmed down.
“How did you know you were bullet proof?” You asked in a shaky voice.
“I didn’t.” He admitted. “I just knew that you weren’t.”
You pulled away to stare at him in disbelief, almost looking angry with him for risking his life for you. Your angry expression melted into a look of awe.
“Thats hot.” You said and threw your arms around him to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and held you tighter, only breaking apart when you needed to catch your breath.
“Do you kiss all your local cashiers like that?” You asked him.
“Nope.” He chuckled. “Just you.”
“Good. You better keep it that way.”
Peter smiled and pressed his forehead against yours as you both calmed down from all the excitement when a thought crossed his mind.
“Did you really not know the combination to the safe or were you protecting the store?” Peter asked skeptically.
“Are you accusing me of risking my life to protect Dick’s Sporting Goods from a robbery?” You pretended to be offended and put your hand over your heart.
“No. But I am accusing you not telling that guy the safe combination just to mess with him.” Peter replied. A smirk crossed your face as you went over to the safe and put in the combination.
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for a bit.” You said as you pulled the safe open.
“I knew it.” Peter laughed and shook his head.
“I was planning on telling you something tonight. You know, before I got held at gunpoint by a man shorter than I am.” You said as you walked back over to Peter.
“Oh really? What?”
“They’re making me store manager. That means you can get all the free spandex and gummy worms you want.”
“No way.” Peter grinned. “They promoted you?”
“Kinda.” You waved your hand. “The last store manger went to jail for insider trading and I’m the only other employee over 18.”
“But still! I’m so proud of you.” He said and scooped you into a hug.
“You know, when they promoted me, you were the first person I wanted to tell.” You admitted. Peter pulled away to cup your face and smile at you.
“I’m honored. No one in this shamble of a store deserved it more than you.”
“I can make my own hours now because it’s my job to make the schedule. So let me know when you want to go on our first date that isn’t in a Dick’s sporting goods.” You smiled teasingly.
“I will.” He smiled back before getting serious. He blew out a breath and looked you in the eye.
“Dick’s girl, I have so enjoyed our time together. Would you maybe want to be my girlfriend maybe?” He asked with a hopeful smile.
“Maybe I would.” You shrugged. “But only if you never call me “Dick’s girl” again.”
“I can definitely do that.” Peter nodded and kissed you again. The kiss was interrupted by the sound of cops pulling up in front of the store.
“Cops are here. I gotta go.” Peter said apologetically and pulled his mask back on.
“Bye, Spiderman!” You waved at him as he walked towards the front door.
“Bye, Dick’s girl!” He shouted back before swinging off into the night.
“What did Spiderman just call you?” The police officer as he walked into the store.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Tag List 🏷️
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withwritersblock · 4 months
Text
F.Y.B.F
~F.Y.B.F goodies remix by MC BXB~
Author's Note: this song scratches my brain and idk I just picture Jack to the song lmao. Not my most confident work lmao. italitcs are flashbacks Summary: Jack is the rebound guy and he's okay with that Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 1,515 Jack Hughes x fm!reader Part 2
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Jack and Y/N have always had a flirtatious friendship. They’ve been friends for years, years of flirting, kissing, and touchiness. Whenever Y/N got into a relationship, Jack would back off but not entirely. He would never kiss her or cuddle with her when she was in a relationship but he would always flirt and casually remind her that he was always there if she wanted him.
Y/N never took him seriously. Ever since they were sixteen it was the same flirtatious speech that she always ignored. Today was no different. Jack has yet to meet said new boyfriend. They had only been together for a few feeks when Y/N brought him up. 
“Oh come on, what’s his name?” Jack forced out as he leaned beside her against the kitchen countertop. She rolled her eyes as she shifted her gaze towards him. Fighting the smirk on her lips as she met his squinted gaze. “Why won’t you tell me his name?” Jack asked as his gaze lowered from her eyes towards her glossed lips.
She pulled away from his lips, breathing heavily. Her nose bumped against his as his hands slowly lowered around her ass. He tightened his grip as he tilted his head back. He licked his lips as he looked towards her through his lashes as he smirked. 
“Do I get a few business days on when we stop our little arrangement,” he mumbled as he continued running his hands suductively along the sweatpants covering her ass. She rolled her eyes playfully as she ran her thumbs across his jawline. “I mean I would like to know ahead of time when you leave me again,” he whispered as he stared towards her plump lips.
“Don’t be so dramatic, J,” she leaned away from him. Sliding her hands suductively along his chest before she climbed off of his lap. “It’s not like we do anything actually fun,” she teased as she walked towards her kitchen to get a bottle of water for herself and Jack.
“We can start doing actual fun right now, if you just say the word,” he sat up slightly, looking towards her. 
“If I remember correctly the no sex rule was your idea,” she offered as she carried two water bottles towards the couch. Jack held out his hand as she tossed it towards him. He caught it shortly before she climbed onto his lap again, purposely moving to get a reaction out of him. He shut his eyes, a breathy moan left his lips. She drank the water quickly before she delicately placed it onto the coffee table. 
“Well, you get a new boyfriend every few months, so I didn’t want to get too crazy with you, baby,” he placed the water bottle onto the coffee table. He pressed his lips together as he continued to admire her frame. 
“It’s not every few months,” she leaned down as she ran her thumb across his bottom lip, “Have you thought, maybe I miss kissing you that’s why I break up with them?” she whispered as he pressed his lips against her finger. 
“Kiss me, baby girl,” he whispered. She smiled as she leaned down and kissed his lips urgently. 
“Because if I told you then you would ask more questions and I do not want to answer any questions right now,” Y/N offered as she tilted her head away from Jack’s.
“Does he have a weird name or something? I know it’s probably not as moanable as Jack is but-”
“Jack!” she scolded in a whiny voice.
“See, very nice to hear,” Jack teased as he leaned towards her.
“Why do you do this?” Y/N asked softly as she scanned his features. He shrugged as he reluctantly walked away from her. He licked his lips as he scanned her frame, “I mean seriously Jack,” she mumbled. 
Jack nodded slowly as he tilted his head to the side. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to kiss her. Take her back to his bedroom, show her why they would be perfect together. Why he was perfect for her. How fulfilled he could make her feel. 
Jack took a shaky breath as he smirked. “Why do you do this?” he returned the question. “Why do you find a random guy to date for three months just to end up in my bed once you’re bored with him? This is your pattern,” he let out confidently. He crossed his arms over his chest. 
“I’m not complaining, I love having you in my bed,” he let out as he walked towards her. He paused as he rested his hand onto her hip, forcing her to lean against the countertop. Her breath caught in her throat as she scanned his features. He leaned towards her, licking his lips. He met her gaze, trying to read her eyes.
“Wish we were there right now,” he leaned towards her, his lips nearly pressing against hers. He kept a small distance, but the heat rising onto his cheeks. “But you have a boyfriend,” he forced out as he walked away towards the couch. “Or a boy-toy or whoever and I unfortunately so unfortunately have to listen to that,” he clenched his jaw.
He smirked as he looked down towards the simple text from Y/N saying she was waiting outside of his apartment. Luke was asleep, as it was well past one in the morning.  Jack stood up from the couch as he walked towards the door. Unlocking the door, he pulled it open to see a sad smile on Y/N’s lips. 
“Hey,” she mumbled out. 
“Come cuddle, baby,” he let out as he opened his arms slightly. She pouted her lips as she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck. Jack let go of the door, letting it slowly shut. He tightly wrapped his arms around the center of back. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly. 
“No, can we watch a movie?” she asked as she pulled away from him. He nodded as he held out his hand for her to take a hold of it. She gladly took a hold of it as she followed him towards his bedroom, quietly. 
He shut the door delicately behind her as he quickly took a hold of her waist. “Are we actually going to watch a movie?” he asked as he scanned her features, she shook her head as she wrapped her arms around his neck as she jumped into his arms. He quickly took a hold of her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist. 
It had been three months since they last were this close, so intimate. He urgently kissed her lips as he spun her around and guided her towards his bed. He slowly placed her down onto his bed. He climbed on top of her as he held himself up with one hand as well as he took a hold of her cheek as they continued to kiss with so much desperation. 
“I need you,” she mumbled against his lips. He pulled away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Jack,” she continued. He nodded urgently before he instantly began to kiss her lips. Something they’ve gotten very good at together.
After several minutes, he slowly pulled away as he began to trail kisses along her exposed neck. Sucking her skin, forming red spots, she’ll regret later; but right now they feel so good. He slowly looped his fingertips beneath the hem of her tank top as he slowly gilded it up her frame. Speeding up the process, she ripped it over her head as she tossed it to the other side of the bedroom. 
“Whenever you’re done with him, you know I’ll be waiting. Maybe for a permanent position,” Jack asked as he plopped down on the couch. She chuckled as she rolled her eyes playfully, “Why do you always think I’m joking when I say stuff like that. It’s not a ridiculous idea that I would want to be with you,” he explained nonchalantly. 
She swallowed hard as she felt her heart race. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I have an issue with commitment,” she let out as she walked towards the couch, purposely sitting on the opposite side of the couch. Leaving enough room so she doesn’t do anything she will regret. 
“Not really,” Jack mumbled as he leaned back against the couch, he rested his arm on the top of it as a cocky grin formed to his lips. He shifted his gaze towards her, scanning his features. “You can commit to one thing,” he let out.
“What’s that?” she asked knowingly. 
“Who do you always come running to when you break up with your boyfriend or boy-toy? Me. You always come back baby,” he scooted across the couch, leaning his body into her.
She rolled her eyes playfully as she tilted her head back as she turned her gaze towards him. “You are so annoying,” she forced out with a grin. 
“You know you love it,” he mumbled out.
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juniperdugong · 1 month
Note
hello! can i req for a short bf!shua fic wherein yn has been sick for days and shua takes care of her and it kinda overwhelms her bec it was her first time being taken care of like that by other person (she’s used to being alone & shua just love her so much huhu) thank you! 🤍
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Here Now - Joshua Hong
WC: 1k || Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst (?) || Lover boy Joshua Hong is in the house!!
A/N: I'm not gonna tell y'all what to do but...you maybe totally should envision this to "Lean On Me" (aka my favoritest SVT song ever)
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It's been days since you've gotten up from the comfy nest you created for yourself on your bed. Wrapped up in blankets and snuggling pillows like a newborn monkey.
You hadn't gotten sick like this in forever, it's very possible that you haven't been this sick in your entire life actually. You've been calling out of work for days and any movements made past the kitchen or the bathroom were futile attempts that would leave you hurling.
So all in all, you're extremely lucky to have Joshua by your side. Bringing you meals, making you meals, making sure you're taking medicine, he even took a few days off to make sure that if you needed him he was there.
Which, if you were being honest, made you feel even more sick.
It's not like the attention wasn't appreciated...no! You loved the way that Shua loved. You really truly did! It's rare that fights ever caused wedges between you because he was always so good with communication. He was always keen on making sure that you knew that he was yours and only yours, calling every single night on tour and planning dates like it was his job. Shua was - just as he's boasted about all these years - a gentleman.
But you'd be lying if you didn't acknowledge that this didn't feel right, that him taking care of you felt comfortable. It was anything but.
You can take care of yourself and you have for many many years. So when Shua started to bring over food, made sure to set alarms to remind you to take medicine, and spend nights at your place - it's fair to say that you felt suffocated? Or it's more like you didn't want to take up his time.
Joshua is busy. You've always known him to be extremely hard-working, not only in your relationship but also in his professional life. And it's not like you ever minded, in fact, you enjoy being alone. It's just how life has turned out for you thus far, in ways, being alone is much more comfortable than being surrounded by others constantly.
When you'd gotten together it was pretty out of the ordinary. It's not like you're polar opposites but Shua is so outgoing, friendly, and sociable - it astonished you how kind he was to everyone. To be able to call him your boyfriend seems a bit like a privilege. And it only made it that much harder to accept this kind of care.
"You don't have to do all this Shua."
"Hmm? What do you mean?" He stares at you from the edge of the best where he's sitting, the thermometer still in his hand as he had just checked your temperature.
"I mean take time off and stuff. You don't have to do this for me."
Utterly confused he keeps quiet, placing the thermometer on the nightstand. He's always been good about letting other people have the space to speak.
"I know you're trying to be nice...but I can do stuff myself. You don't have to dote on me." He's letting you finish your speech but as you look into his eyes you can see he's readying himself to refute. "I know you're busy-"
"No." His tone is so stern that it scares you.
"Josh-" You nervously rub your hands together but Shua is quick to hold your palms in his.
"I'm not busy, y/n. I'm not busy when it comes to you."
"That's the thing Shua! You really shouldn't feel like you need to do any of this just because I'm your partner or out of any obligations...." He sees the guilty look on your face as you stare down at your intertwined fingers.
He scoffs, "Yeah and you shouldn't feel like you're a burden to me because I'm your partner." He rolls his eyes with a smile but you're completely blown away by the statement. "Seriously...you act like we're not gonna recite the words "through sickness and health" one day."
"Yeah but you have so much going on- I've taken care of myself for forever so it's really okay for me to continue to do so. I haven't had the kind of support you do, y'know? I've grown accustomed to being alone and doing things alone..." You take a big breath and let it out, letting the weight glide off your shoulders. "I just don't want to be another thing you think you have to worry about."
He's looking at you with the biggest stupidest doe eyes, taking in every single word you say. It only makes your heart pound more and not in any sort of lovesick manner, but in embarrassment of the situation.
"You're so...frustrating sometimes y/n."
Dumbfounded at the jab your face screws up in disbelief of his words...it feels like your world could come crashing down right now. Maybe you just shouldn't have said anything-
"I know you've done things all on your own. You're literally one of the strongest people I know. It's one of my favorite qualities about you. You're independent, reliable, and so- Just- Ugh!" He facepalms. "I know all of this about you - you're so perfect and it breaks my heart that you would ever think you could be any sort of problem for me. I'm here for you. Yes, you've learned to go through it all alone and take care of yourself. But that doesn't mean that you have to do that...especially not anymore."
You don't know if it would be more appropriate to cry or smile in this situation so you resolve to just holding him as close as you can. You can feel as tears begin to gather but you hold yourself together -although, now you know that he wouldn't mind if you let it all go.
"It worries me so much that you feel like you can't lean on me." He rests in the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin.
"Just rest now, babe. Look your temp is already a lot better than yesterday." He separates from you and holds the thermometer up as proof, "Rest. I'm here now and I refuse to let you go through life alone!" That goofy smile that had you fallen head over heels for adorns his face.
*RING RING RING* "Medicine alarm..." He presses a kiss to your cheek. Yeah, you're really lucky to have Joshua.
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A/N: Crying, I love him, Mom!! Also, I'm so sorry this took so much longer to write than I expected. I was out of ideasssss and dialogue was so rough to come up with for this one. (lowkey might wake up tmrw and feel so shit abt the dialogue ;-;) But thank you for requesting @honglynights !! I hope you enjoy! Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)
Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda
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cinnbar-bun · 8 months
Text
Affinity (Various OP Characters x Reader)
Characters: Brook, Buggy, Beckman, Crocodile, Zoro, Mihawk, Corazon, Shanks, Law
Rating: SFW
Word Count: ~4k
A/n: Reader is GN! I kinda made this after hearing about a special thing in my religion, and decided I wanted to do this. I of course made it more romantic in nature than the original idea goes, but hey, romance! I had my followers choose 7 originally but it went to 9, which is a very lucky number in my religion so maybe it was a sign? Who knows! Please enjoy <3
Tagging: @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @undeadeurydice @i-am-vita @kiribuchi @therosietoesy (sorry, I forgot who asked for Law my bad)
———————————————————————
There is a belief that before you are born, you were once a soul that had existed with other souls. Souls who had an affinity for each other would find that affinity carried in their time as a human. Souls who repelled each other would find that distaste carried over as well. Perhaps it was preordained, fate, destiny- whatever you’d call it. Regardless, it seems your soul has met with someone who once had an affinity for you…
Brook
Being an undead figure unable to pass on was not what Brook had in mind. In some ways, he was grateful for another chance at life, another chance to do what he previously was too dead to finish. Albeit, being a pile of bones did have its drawbacks.
While he could still function and do things many humans did, fact was, he was anything but. One look at him would easily make him stand out as something like a freak of nature.
Skeletons cannot love and be loved like a human. He could hold, but could not be held like a human. Admittedly, it had bothered him on occasion, but he always tried to brush it off with a simple hum or shrug. After all, he had his friends and crewmates- and he had a promise to continue fighting for. That should be enough.
But he couldn’t stop his eyes (if he had any) from wandering… couldn’t stop the way his mind wondered…
Just what could it be like if I too could fall in love?
Ah, but that’s such a silly thing for a skeleton to consider. Who could ever love the undead remains of someone long forgotten?
He’d practically given up on such silly notions like love or a relationship- it didn’t fit his current predicament.
So Brook focused on his music and his performances instead. He held up his violin and decided to waste some time on this sunny day playing for his audience of a few blue birds chirping at this green park. It was beautiful and reminded him of his day with the Rumbar Pirates- agh, nostalgia was always his weakest attribute, he thinks.
His fingers drift along the strings of the instrument, peacefully playing his weary heart away. He doesn’t recognize he has another guest until he hears slow clapping.
“What?” He turns his head, surprised to see you on the bench, smiling and clapping.
“That was lovely,” you comment. Time slows still and your eyes meet, shining (e/c) eyes with hollow black sockets.
If he had skin, perhaps he would’ve been red or sweating buckets. As a skeleton, he was not able to do things. But Brook was still a man through and through, and he couldn’t help but freeze at seeing the way your eyes were soft and full of admiration.
“I’m glad you thought so. Music is my pride and joy.”
“I can tell,” you reply. “I felt like I forgot to breathe for a moment when I heard that. I’m sorry for watching, though, if you weren’t looking for an audience.”
“N-no, actually it was…” he was too caught up in the way his soul was resonating and burning within him. “I appreciate it actually. Would you like me to play a song for you?”
“Would you? I’d love to hear more!”
Buggy
Buggy never believed in things like soulmates or fairy tales or blah blah blah- it was all junk! The only thing he ever could trust was treasure- shiny, bright, treasure! What else did a pirate need or want?
Is what he would say out loud- Buggy, even at a young age, was secretly a romantic who refused to let himself be swept up in the sentiment. When him and Shanks would sail together on Roger’s ship, Shanks would often ask what he thought about love.
Unlike Buggy, Shanks was pretty honest and confident about his assertions. Buggy would stumble and try to keep the bravado up, pretending as if he didn’t secretly yearn for a person who could look past his red nose and maybe possibly sorta kinda like him? Was that too much to ask? If you were Buggy, the answer was yes, because he would never allow himself the chance to be soft or vulnerable with someone. Especially not when he was already so sensitive about his looks and attitude. The thought of letting his guard down to be loved terrified him- what if they left? What if they made fun of him, too?
It was just too much for his fragile ego, so he brushed it aside and continued his hunt for treasure.
“Now where the hell am I?” He yelled, tilting the map in his hand left and right, as if that would somehow make his destination clearer. “Kinda crappy treasure map is this?”
He glared and shoved the map back in his pocket as he stomped around this town. He hadn’t ever bothered to come to this place before, so everything was new for him. He glared at the kids who were pointing at his nose to scare them off (mission accomplished), but his foul attitude still didn’t lessen.
As Buggy turned a corner, he accidentally rammed into someone. They shrieked, and his hat fell off his face and covered his eyes.
“Watch it, will ya? I’m walkin’ he…” he pushed his hat back up and came face to face with perhaps the most gorgeous person he’s ever met. His mouth was wide open, gawking at you as you gave an apologetic smile.
“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” you said sheepishly.
“Y-yeah it’s… it’s cool. No biggie,” he mumbled in a daze.
“Are you alright?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he returned to normal. “I mean, yeah, totally.”
You chuckle at his behavior, and something within Buggy’s chest makes it feel like there’s a million butterflies flapping inside his ribcage. He can’t help the dumb grin on his face as he laughs along.
“Sorry again, sir. I’ll keep an eye out for you next time,” you wink and begin walking away, making Buggy flabbergasted. N-next time? Was that a promise? He didn’t even realize what he was thinking before he turned around and tried to jog back to you.
“H-hey, wait up-!”
Beckman
Beckman was fairly ambivalent to the idea of a “soulmate” or “affinity”. Sure, he humored his often childish captain with those notions, but the fact was, Beckman was simply a sailor at heart. He didn’t think being “stuck” to someone was the life he wanted, and he was fairly sure a sane, rational person would not want to be the lover of a first mate to perhaps one of the most infamous pirate crews on the sea.
Now, this would imply you were sane and rational, and this would also imply that he was also not a sucker for you. Perhaps that was what made him attracted to you in the first place, or maybe it was something that gave him the idea that his captain wasn’t so off base.
When it came to you, Beckman was eager, a bit too eager, the others would joke. Whenever you called, he came running and answering like a loyal servant. Whenever you wrote, his lips would form a large smile while he refused to let the others look at the letter you sent. Whenever he was away from you for long periods of time, he drank a bit too much.
It was common place enough for the others to notice and tease him about, even if Beckman was adamant there was nothing there. You guys were just… friends, or something ambiguous like that. You didn’t need a label for your relationship. This was completely normal, you were normal, he was normal- nothing was out of the ordinary, so if they would please stop asking and make him confront those pesky feelings he-
Maybe he had a problem. He never felt this way for anyone else he encountered. You knew of his philandering, not seeming to care all that much, but damn it, even he couldn’t continue that streak because his mind would get occupied with you, you, you. Love was too complicated. Maybe this was the alcohol talking. Or Shanks getting in his head about “souls being attuned” or whatever spiritual jazz the red-haired captain would spout.
No, it really made sense, all things considered. There was no one else but you to make him quit fooling around with others on the islands he stopped at. There was no one else but you who invaded his thoughts, who plagued him day and night with those eyes, that smile, the way you hated that red cologne he once bought and-
Oh dear god, he was deep into this, wasn’t he?
Crocodile
Love? Spirits? Souls? Soulmates?
Yeah right, add that to the list of stupid things weak poets say to make their miserable lives have some meaning. You could jump through a million hoops to try and blame encounters and relationships on things like “destiny” or “fate”. To a man like Crocodile, however, “destiny” was just something he could control. Whether through bribes of money or through making them submit with his fearsome powers, “destiny” was nothing but another means of his affluence.
Only those who were weak and had nothing could not control their lives.
Something like love was a crutch used by those who had nothing to pretend they did. What was love to power? What was love to wealth? To fame? To greatness?
Love was the longest-running scam that Crocodile almost could be impressed with, if not for the fact that the sentiment around love made him want to gag.
Except, now he was actively looking for jewelry to buy you, flowers to deliver to your doorstep, and outfits to clothe you in for when you visited him.
It was almost disgusting how Crocodile was eagerly awaiting for your next arrival, for when he could be able to see you on the street or at his casino so he could see that face he adored so much. Those eyes that made him want to melt, that voice that echoed in his head, that smile that made him want to have an image of you adorned on his wall so he could always see it.
Something, he could never place what it was, drew him to you. Something made you seem to stand out to him in ways that no other could. He was Crocodile- world famous business man and pirate- he had no shortage of people throwing themselves at him or fearing him. Only to you was he trying his luck attempting to woo you to give him that look he loved. Only for you was he making excuse after excuse to continue seeing you, lying over and over that he had a reason to use you, that it was just a part of some master plan.
He exhaled another puff of his cigar and rubbed his temples.
Gods, why was he acting this way? He was Crocodile. Not a lovesick teenage boy, not some lonely man, not some simpering-
“Sir, (Y/n) has arrived.” His ears perked up as he quickly slicked back his hair.
“Is that so? Send them up,” he orders, grabbing his expensive cologne to spray onto him again.
Zoro
Zoro had never heard of the idea of soulmates or anything like that. When one lives, breathes, and dies by the sword, something like “soulmates” is just comical. He doesn’t need love to become the best swordsman. He didn’t need love to teach him how to pick up a sword and kill another with it. That was, in fact, the complete opposite of love.
Survival of the fittest, he thought. Nothing more, nothing less. You kill for bounties, bounties that pay, pay that gives you a chance to eat food. Nothing more to it. He never did more than he needed to, never worked harder for anything outside of his sword training and hunting. What else did a swordsman need to live?
He was currently drinking his fill at a local tavern of some random village he washed out upon. He didn’t care to get names, not when he was always moving, always killing, always leaving. “Zoro” was a passing chance encounter few got to ever meet or understand. He was fine with that. A bounty hunter didn’t need attachments. A bounty hunter definitely didn’t need someone weighing him down.
At the tavern, a few rowdy pirates were acting up. Yelling obscenities, throwing food and liquor at one another, making rude gestures- nothing out of the ordinary for drunk pirates. Zoro had no business with them, so he ignored them, continuing to order pint after pint.
It wasn’t until he heard a crash that he looked up. You were angrily yelling at one of the pirates who threw a drink at you, and his mates were drawing their weapons. It was clear you were outnumbered, so you looked around the bar for anyone that would help.
Normally, Zoro wouldn’t bother, figuring you dug your own grave by messing with pirates like that. However, when he glanced to your eyes, he found himself… staring. Lost. Entranced?
He didn’t know why he felt like he should protect you, but he always had a good intuition when it came to these sorts of things. He sighed, placed his mug down, then stood up, drawing his swords from their sheathes.
“Zoro,” he stated. A rare thing for him to admit so casually to a normal person. The pirates heard his name and shriveled up in fear. Zoro didn’t pay them any mind, instead tapping his sword against his shoulder impatiently. “Need me to shut these guys up?”
Mihawk
If you had asked a young Mihawk about love, he would have most certainly called you a fool for daring to think of such illogical things instead of focusing on one’s own strength and potential. While he had heard of the sentiments about love and soulmates before, he didn’t place much value into it. Love was a distraction from the training he could have done. Love was a waste of time. Love was just for weak-minded people who let themselves be vulnerable or gentle with another. Love wasn’t for people like him.
Which was why he was now trying to instill the opposite into his foolhardy protege, Zoro. Yes, yes, unfortunately, Mihawk was proven wrong from his earlier ways of thinking, and ever since then, he’s been doing his best to be a good man for you.
“I didn’t think a guy like you would have a partner…” Zoro would mumble.
“Of course I would. Do I not look like a suitable husband?” Mihawk replied as he was sipping his wine. “A marriage is only an aspect of your training and power.”
“How does cooking dinner help you train?” Zoro raised a brow, not believing a word.
“If you cannot handle a routine for even the most mundane and domestic of tasks, you cannot expect to be disciplined enough to train. If you think something like making your love a cup of tea or folding laundry is too hard or not worthy enough, you are not worthy enough to hold a sword.”
Zoro nodded, impressed by Mihawk’s reasoning (or maybe impressed at how you somehow made the world’s greatest swordsman so whipped and happy to make you dinner).
“Well, when you put it like that,” Zoro scratched his cheek, looking back at his mentor to see him staring at you longingly from the window. You and Perona were outside picking some of the vegetables at the garden, an activity you insisted upon doing despite Mihawk’s protests. You and the young lady were joking and laughing about something Perona said, and Mihawk sighed.
“Something wrong?” Zoro asked, unsure what Mihawk was thinking with his stoic appearance.
“No, not at all,” Mihawk shook his head, taking another sip.
“Then why did you sigh like that?” Zoro questioned. A smirk grew on Mihawk’s lips as he chuckled, continuing to look at you. You… you who were so special, who had become the apple of his eye, his strength, his joy, his passion.
“Oh, you wouldn’t understand it right now, my student,” Mihawk closed his eyes. “Fate is… it’s simply a humorous thing.”
Corazon
He always was a sensitive soul, despite his outer appearance and harsh exterior. But even as a child, Law could tell something was up with Corazon.
“Why are you always looking at them?” Law grumpily asked, folding his arms and raising a brow at his benefactor.
“Hm? At who?” Corazon dumbly responded, cigarette in his lips.
“You know who I mean! Don’t act stupid!” Law shouted. Corazon chuckled and exhaled the smoke.
“Sorry, gotta be more specific.”
Of course, Corazon knew who Law was referring to. It wasn’t like Corazon had hidden his affection for you, but that was for another time. You were something special, something that Corazon yearned for but could never have. Not when Doflamingo’s influence was so large and looming over his life. But even if Corazon himself could not love you so freely, he always did like to tell the young boy stories. Of course, Law, being a jaded little boy, had never really given thought to such things like “soulmates” or “souls knowing each other”. That was stupid and impossible.
Corazon liked to believe, though. It comforted him. It made him feel happy that, hey, even if this life perhaps didn’t work out for him and you, at least he had known you before. At least he was able to see you again. At least he got you in his life for a moment, even if it would end in nothing but heartache and pain. At he least, for just a bit, he got to see that smile, those eyes, and feel your hands over his.
It made his life a little less hard, a little less dull. The romanticism that despite Doffy meddling in his life, Corazon still had a chance with you, was meant to know and be with you… well, that was plenty enough for him. It made him happier, too, knowing Law was perhaps a soul he was acquainted with before. It made him feel like he was always going to be guaranteed love and kindness with you and Law, even if the world was unkind to him.
Yes, this new family he had found was perhaps where he belonged the most. With you and Law by his side, there was nothing more he could ask for.
Shanks
“You’re obsessed.”
“Am not!” Shanks yelled childishly at Beckman, before turning back to face the island they were planning on docking at soon. The wide smile on his face made it clear he was beyond excited to be there, and the other men chuckled.
“Don’t tell me you’re planning on running off to see em?” Yassop asked, knowing the answer.
“Oh, stop bugging about it! It’s just a little reunion with (Y/n), not anything crazy,” Shanks waved off. He breathed into his palm and winced at the smell of his breath. “Crap, does anyone have any mouthwash?”
“I don’t think anything can get that stench out. If they hadn’t run away cuz of your smell before, I think you’re good now!”
“Haha, very funny guys. Besides, it’s just between friends. Nothing weird.”
Of course, that was a bit of a fib, but who doesn’t tell little white lies? Surely he’d be forgiven for saying that by whomever was possibly in charge of making this happen?
Shanks, even with his overwhelming power and influence, did believe in superstition. It would be foolish not to, especially in such a dangerous world that a pirate inhabits. Sure, some of them were old wive’s tales from scared-straight sailors, but he did find them having some merit. He didn’t like to discount the seemingly impossible, not when it made even the most outlandish things possible.
He believed it was fate he got to meet Buggy and be a part of Roger’s crew. He believed it fate he met little Luffy in Foosha Village. He also believed it was fate he saved you that day. Some things just “made sense” like that to Shanks. It certainly made his life more interesting while also giving him a chance to bother you as always.
“Oh, come on, you can’t really kick out your soulmate, can you?” Shanks would tease.
“Soulmate?” You laugh. “Is this your attempt at proposing to me?”
“Hey, if you’d like it to be, I can absolutely make it happen,” Shanks replied, an earnest look in his eyes. You smile at him- crap, how do you always manage to make him ache and miss you? It’s gotta be fate, because no way could anyone have his heart in tight vice like this.
“Well… if you’re insisting, Captain,” you begin, smirking at him. “Why not take me with you? As your soulmate.”
Shanks’s eyes widened and the look on his face was a mixture of bewilderment and excitement.
“You know I can always make room for you,” he answered, trying to steady himself.
“Good. Although, we could share a room.”
“You drive a hard bargain, dear,” he chugs his rum. “Cheers to us!”
Law
Since he was a young boy, Law always tried to remain by himself. You couldn’t really trust anyone in a world of piracy and violence like that. Corazon, of course, always recommended otherwise. He even shared stories about a place where souls all were together.
It didn’t sound plausible or even remotely make sense. How would you even know if your soul was supposedly affiliated with someone?
It had been years since those days and the loss of Corazon, and even though he tried his hardest not to, Law still kept those stories in his mind. They were pointless and silly, but they were something Corazon believed wholeheartedly, even saying it was a miracle he got to meet a young Law. In some ways, Law felt somewhat similarly.
Love wasn’t for someone like Law. Too damaged, too cold, too logical, too afraid to ever let that feeling grow. It was how he stayed and remained for his life, and how he was planning on operating for the rest of time.
Until you, quite literally, crashed into him.
Jeez, you had to be a pest. Or a virus. Or a parasite. Something like that, but gosh, you were contagious. When you smiled, he found himself wanting to smile back. When you talked, he found himself thinking over every word you spoke in great detail. Maybe he was overthinking things, maybe when you said you were happy to have met him that was just you being friendly. Or something.
Almost always his mind drifted to you, feeling a certain way for you that he didn’t feel with the others in his crew or from the Straw Hats. You were different.
Perfect? Maybe. Definitely too good for someone like him, he’d think. But even with that self-loathing and apprehension, he found himself being drawn to you like a magnet.
Cora, if this is what you meant before…
Damn it, now he was letting things like soulmates and affinity cloud his judgment. He was a grown man, not a young boy, he didn’t need those silly delusions and ideas growing in his head and making him think he had a chance with you.
“Tora-o!” Luffy called. “Come here!!”
“No,” Law grumbled.
“Law,” you asked right after. “Do you mind helping me with this?”
“...yes,” he replied, stoically walking up to you to see what your problem was. Luffy gawked and pouted from the side, while a few of the others chuckled at Law.
754 notes · View notes
sebscore · 2 years
Note
Hey!
Heres my request for ur fem!driver series:
Y/N wins her first race and everyone is waiting for her national anthem to play but somehow an error in the sound system leads to this song playing:
But instead of being mad abt it, she’s ecstatic just absolutely vibes her lil heart out on the podium and soon she has the other drivers, some commentators and the entire crowd joining in w/ her (cuz she’s THAT GIRL🤩😂)
PLEASE RISE FOR THE NATIONAL ANTHEM
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pairings: lewis hamilton x driver!reader / charles leclerc x driver!reader
warning: kinda changed how the podium ceremony normally goes, but it's nothing drastic, tbh. they already received their trophy and champagne.
author's note: thank you so much for the request, I started laughing when I read it, cause it reminded me of that one meme. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and lmk what you think of it 🫶
• • • • • • •
Y/N stood proudly on the top step of the podium, full in disbelief that this day had actually come. She had won an Formula 1 race, she had won a Grand Prix. The first woman in history to actually do that.
Charles and Lewis glanced up at her, delighted that they could witness the historical moment from this close. They always had the faith that she could do it one day, that she had the skills to overtake them and cross the checkered flag first.
The time had come for her national anthem to start playing. Her eyes welled up with tears, the patriotic feeling in her rising up and the knowledge she had done her country proud. Y/N had prepared herself and had put tissues in the pockets of her racing suit, knowing she was probably gonna end up sobbing by the time the song had finished.
Only, that moment didn't happen.
There had been a mistake in the sound system and instead of the beautiful harmonies of an orchestra being heard, the opening beats of the hip hop song 'Get Low' by Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz were being played.
It had taken Y/N a few seconds to comprehend what was happening, the frown on her face evident that she was confused. Similar expressions of confusion and shock were found on Lewis, Charles and everyone else's faces.
Y/N briefly glanced at the staff on the side of the podium and the audience anticipated what she would do. The young woman could give one of two reactions. The first reaction would be for her to stay serious and be upset about the fact that her national anthem wasn't being played. Or, she could go along with the situation, and start dancing to the song to make it fun for everyone witnessing the moment.
Obviously, she went for the second option.
It started with the bobbing of her head to the loud beats that were coming out of the speakers, wiping away the tears that had escaped earlier with her hands. Then, she began to mouth the lyrics and the sight only became funnier from there on.
The song wasn't even halfway done or the podium ceremony had become a concert with the female driver as the headlining act. At first, Lewis and Charles had covered their faces in embarrassment, not for the young woman, but simply for the entire situation. Yet, once they saw the crowd getting hyped up, they joined her and started jumping up and down.
Upon seeing their still unopened champagne bottles standing lonely on the podium, Y/N started the fire and began shaking it. As soon as her two colleagues noticed what she was doing, they picked up their own respective bottles and started doing the same.
Eventually, the song ended and the podium ceremony was over, to everyone's dismay. The drivers picked up their trophies and made their way down the grid again for the short post-podium interview.
Y/N had been the first one to come downstairs and Coulthard grabbed that oppurtunity to interview the young woman first.
''Y/N, what's going through your head right now?'' He asked, handing a microphone to her.
Her hand went through her hair, thinking of the right words to say. ''Pff, I don't know, David,'' her voice sounded out of breath, ''I'm still processing what just happened.'' She nervously laughed, public speaking not being her favorite thing to do.
''I think we're all still processing what just happened,'' Coulthard laughed along, ''what went wrong there on the podium?''
She shook her head, looking back at said podium behind her. ''Geez, uh, I think there was a mistake or something with the cd and, uh, yeah, my national anthem started playing.''
Coulthard started a new question, wanting to change the subject, but was interrupted. ''You know, David- I'm very proud of my country, Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz, I know I've made my people proud.'' She joked, making the audience laugh as they listened to the interview.
''That's great, Y/N,'' Coulthard awkwardly replied, just wanting to continue to ask his questions, ''So, about the race…''
''Yes, the race.''
''Talk us through it, how did you feel it was going?''
Y/N nodded her head to David's words. ''The race, uh, the race, it went, uh- listen, I've gotta be honest- I don't remember a thing, but I'm gonna assume I did really well, you know, cause I won.'' She rambled on, genuinely having forgotten all about the competition that had happened earlier.
Lewis, who was standing a few feet away from her, loudly cackled at her answer and his laugh was picked up by the microphone.
''Alright, Y/N, thank you so much and congratulations.'' He padded her shoulder, rounding up the interview.
''I'm so sorry, David.''
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