#will never shut up about this series fr

[judasofsuburbia]

how the light gets in: a fan playlist

"You're a monster."

"You're Nancy Wheeler."

read here.

listen to the playlist here.

fell in absolute love with the series How The Light Gets In by my lovely pal @fastcardotmp3 and decided to make a fan playlist!! seriously this series is so special and so poetic. it is about chrissy cunningham coming back from the dead as a vampire and nancy wheeler finding her out while she's visiting barb's grave. together, they go on a journey of self-discovery and girlhood through monstrosity. and of course, fall for each other in the meanwhile. GO READ THIS SERIES i cannot recommend it enough!

song explanations below the cut!

anthem by leonard cohen: where the fic title comes from! a slow song about life continuing to move forward even after tragedy. very fitting for this series.

just a girl (cover) by florence + the machine: of course this had to go on here! chrissy has "come back wrong" and has to rethink and relearn what it means to be a girl again and the horrors associated with girlhood.

all the things she said (cover) by poppy: there is a moment at the beginning where chrissy can't communicate to nancy yet because vecna can hear everything. but she starts to make a list of all the things she will tell her once she can speak freely again.

talk to you by ricky montgomery: kind of the same as before! they wish they could communicate with each other and eventually figure out that vecna (who is possessing chrissy, so to speak) can only hear what they're saying. not see or read. so they end up writing down notes to each other to avoid vecna ruining their plans.

seventeen by sharon van etten: this one is kind of more vibes but basically reminscing on the girl chrissy once was and how she's growing.

way of nature, way of grace by aly and aj and joy oladokun: soft love song that explores the growing fascination the girls have with each other and the admiration of beauty through the pain/ the horrors.

girls against god by florence + the machine: ONCE AGAIN of course this had to go on here. florence just gets troubled girls<3 something about taking the reins of your life even when everything feels out of control.

please, please, please let me get what i want by the smiths: it's explored in this fic that chrissy struggling to want things and nancy being so giving to her, unselfishly. it's so beautiful :,)

hungry eyes by eric carmen: WOO MONSTER SONG basically here for the vibes of monster girl finally getting to consume. and definitely looking at nancy with hungry eyes.

i'll be here in the morning by townes van zandt: nancy promising that she will be back for chrissy time and time again :,))

leonard cohen by boygenius: kind of just for vibes but because the title song is leonard cohen, i thought it fit! it's about that particular song and getting lost in your happiness<3

waiting for a girl like you by foreigner: some 80's vibes now!! basically following chrissy never understanding her attraction to men but everything finally starting to make sense once she gets close to nancy.

me and the devil by soap&skin: nancy's defense song! it takes a lot of convincing from her to the group to let her take care of chrissy. this song explores following the devil and not being able to explain why you need to<3

lay all your love on me (cover) by pale honey: felt fitting for their first kiss in the woods up against a tree. dot wrote the emotion and desperation in this scene SO WELL!!

i will follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie: kind of an overall vibe song but also relates to chrissy going through the upside down again to help save max and destroy vecna. willing to go back to hell in order to find her autonmy again<3

NFWMB by hozier: also a first kiss song after chrissy tears apart a demogorgan to save nancy phewwww<3 but also just general vibes of them protecting each other from the others who don't understand!!!

fade into you by mazzy star: ties into the irreplaceable bond that chrissy and nancy are making with each passing day. they're fading into each other.

to be alone with you by sufjan stevens: chrissy is craving genuine alone time with nancy like how it was when she first found her<3

like lovers do by hey violet: sexy spooky song ooo!!! i would relate this one to the way they can't keep their hands off each other once they get a taste you know ;) that's just how lovers do!!!

the way i feel inside by the zombies: a soft love song about deciding whether or not to speak their feelings. nancy and chrissy spend time in this fic finally being able to speak their mind and their desires (esp for each other! eep!) and being frightened by the power but also enlightened.

[lamonnaie]

Perth on the Kidnap set today???

via Ohm's ig story

[hopezzy]

“We’ll never know if we don’t try.” —Max and Nat as Hia Yi and Kon-Diao in Cutie Pie Special Episode 4

[svtskneecaps]

Only thing really stopping folks from that god-tier comedy is the canon that the Wilderness Trio's time together at that school is all illusory (like, literally all made up in their minds by Hera's clownery) and Leo thinking his pyrokinesis is a curse due to him believing it contributed to his mother's death. But honestly, I've seen fanfic twist crazier parts of canon to make it work, so you could just write the second bit off as Hera meddling w memories. Canon divergence for all. - Heckhead

My guess the reason no one revisits the Wilderness Trio is because (people think) Jason is too "bland" and Jason x Piper also being mid next to the gold-standard pairing that is Percy x Annabeth. Personally, I think they're sleeping on absolute gold; Jason Grace fulfills a very important niche in the CHB ecosystem, and The BAD Thing That Happens to Him in the Third Series is a war crime. - Heckhead

i mean tbh the fact that it was all fake in canon should be EVEN MORE REASON to fuck with it. like this sandbox is wide open START BUILDING. and i mean yea the thing w leo's mom is a reason for him to be iffy about fire powers but like. suspension of disbelief i feel like the audience could be convinced that if both jason and piper are admitting to some weird powers that, as far as they know, literally no one else in the world has, leo might admit to his and just not mention the whole mom fire thing. that can come up later down the line and be angsty and shit lol

people only think jason's bland bc he's not Marvel Quippy like we all got spoiled by percy jackson's inner monologue for five books and then jason comes in and is his own character (quelle surprise) and people missed percy's wit n humor. but like shit there's a lot of interesting places to go with him maybe because he's a little bit blank-slate straight man protagonist, compared to percy (i haven't reread past the lost hero so idr if the blankness kinda goes away once he regains his memory). besides iirc in the series i did not read, piper dates a girl, sooo explorations of comphet and/or her sexuality without MIST MEDDLING would be another direction to take this. like fuck, y'all, the niche is open and the sandbox is empty.

[taegularities]

colour me in: seven | jjk (m)

Summary: At first, it's an argument that causes the unwanted, childish distance between Jungkook and you. And then… open blazers and a lip ring.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: est. rel.; fluff, smut ➳ warnings: an argument, cute couple-y things but also they're dorks n cringe sometimes, seven jk (incl the promo pics, laundromat hoodie bf koo, and drenched in the rain koo!!), fighting over food, they're a bit mean to each other, but they adore each other too, brief mention of a rough childhood, sexual tension, taeun being everything, kissing, dumb jokes, period and pms mention!!, a photoshoot!, subtle hints to the future of the main story :'); explicit sexual content: ahh.. making out, dirty talk, oral (f. & m. receiving), brief spanking, face-fcking, light choking, sweet and rough sex, dom jk, big dick jk, whipped simp jk, petnames, multiple orgasms, sex on the couch n on the floor? :'), he loves her a$$ and tiddies, multiple positions, cockwarming!!, mention of aftercare... the ending lol :D ➳ word count: 25k lmfaoo it's oneshot sized yall 😁 ➳ a/n: hi!! welcome back!! this is part of my series colour me in, but you can read it as a standalone-oneshot!! tysm for supporting me and encouraging me, guys, it means so so much. this is also unbeta'd, so pls go easy on me LOL. and since this was a piece of worrrrk.. come and talk to me about it, it makes my day fr fr <33 ➳ listen to: seven by jungkook | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

In hindsight, your argument was blissfully domestic after all. In hindsight, maybe even comedic.

You’ve seen these things on TV and read about them in novels; didn’t experience them growing up because your parents didn’t really fight over such harmless matters. They never needed to lift a finger in their ultramodern kitchen, filled with up-to-the-minute equipment to fill their table.

But Jungkook and you don’t rely on such luxuries. You do things for yourself. So, such a couple-y, casual life leads to couple-y, casual arguments. Requires it. Fighting is healthy; entangles two souls some more.

Which is exactly where you are now. Exactly what you’ve become: A true unit. Quarrelling over trivial, everyday things.

Just to end up folded in half, holding onto the very last of your sanity, biting back more inappropriate screams.

In regards of making up, you’re perhaps not that casual. Because he’s a relentless, brutal beast.

Wrecking you right where everything began.

Monday

The end of the day begins with a giant hole in the middle of your thoughts.

Your previously whirring brain tossed away all thoughts of advertisements and seasonal launches, vacant and dark until your senses shut down everything that wasn’t vital to survival.

Like the lights of the evening as your car passed the streetlamps. The tired faces on the pedestrian zone, the odd wrinkles in your skirt, or the scent wafting from the kitchen when you step out of your heels.

Your mind operates on reflexes and automatic movements; the ball of your palm rubs against your eyelid, realising too late that you’re probably smearing your eyeliner.

A sense of reality only truly returns when you hear a familiar voice call out your name, muffled through the walls between you.

You exit the bedroom with fingers scratching the nape of your neck, tiny steps floating over the floor and past the living room. On the coffee table, you register one or two dishes. Rice, too. Smells so good, but…

As you reach him in the kitchen, you halt at the threshold, eyes scurrying to the few pots and ladles in the sink. He’s diligent and fast; cleans up when dinner simmers. Minimal work left after the meal.

For a moment, you take in the cleanliness of the kitchen, and when your eyes move up to the man himself, you beam.

He’s wearing an apron – baby blue with little flowers and rainbows imprinted on it. His mom bequeathed him with one of her old ones, and he’s been boasting about it ever since.

You saw one with astronauts, moons and telescopes once; you might purchase it for him at some point, not least of all because it includes all the things the two of you love.

A tattooed hand pushes back his mane, messy and pointing in all directions the way it does after his showers. His fingers card through the fine tresses two more times before he turns towards you — an immediate smile, similar to yours, spreads across his face.

The tiny little dimples over the corners of his mouth distract you for a second until you see his hand at waist level, beckoning you into the kitchen and a greeting, sweet embrace.

Compared to the cold outside, his oversized, full-sleeve, white shirt offers a familiar warmth. He always smells the same, musky and fresh; not like cherry blossoms at all, but he reminds you of their softness.

Mixed with the scent of tonight’s meal, you inhale it all, wrapping your arms around him as your eyes close in exhaustion. If he wasn’t swaying you in his hold, you’d probably fall asleep, right there against his chest.

A kiss to your temple, and he asks, “Hungry?”

You’re not sure. You cuddle into the apron and whatever’s visible of his shirt, and mumble against him, “Not too much… to be honest, I was gonna shower and sleep.”

“Oh?” he wonders immediately, traces of disappointment in his voice. “But I made this for you.”

You smile again. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll eat, don’t you worry.” You take a deep breath, and then lift your head off his chest without letting go. “In all honesty. I saw the food outside and thought you had it delivered.”

“So you were gonna waste something you thought was restaurant food?”

You laugh. You’re sure you could see his rosy pout even if you weren’t looking straight at him.

“No. It just looks very good… I would’ve heated it up tomorrow. But since yours was a one-person-effort,” you pat his back in pride, watching as strands of his bangs fall back into his eyes, “we shall eat.”

“And it comes from the heart, too.”

“Right. It comes from the heart, too.”

You rub his back once, soon backing away. There isn’t much to do for you anymore, but you still grab a couple napkins, chopsticks and spoons as he carries some water into the living room.

The couch feels soft, true Heaven, when you sink into it. Your heartbeat slows down, your mind at ease; when you tilt your head, your neck cracks.

But clinking your glasses of water with someone who cherishes you enough to step back and forth in a kitchen for hours… It's a comfort that’s incredibly close to a peaceful night’s sleep.

And it’s worth the effort, too. Despite the conversation and your complaints about work, you can’t help but compliment dinner every other moment. Possibly another endearing habit you picked up from him.

But you slow down when fatigue returns bit by bit, your eye twitching when you feel a well-known tickling in it.

You’re careful of potential spices when you lift your thumb and rub your eye with the back of it, fighting the itch. For a moment, you stop chewing, and Jungkook only lifts his gaze to you when the movement against your eye continues, circling motions.

“Hey,” he says, grasping your wrist, pulling it down slowly, “that’s bad for the cornea.”

“Yeah, I mean. It’s not like my cornea's been nice to me, either.”

You resume chewing, swallowing the mushy remnants of the rice. Your attention falls back to the bowl of food, and your chopsticks aimlessly poke around for a second before he asks, “Why? You okay?”

“Mhm,” you say, nodding gently. “It’s just,” you point to your eyes, chopsticks dangerously close to your face, “that eye thing. It might be an infection or something. It’s so bad today that it’s hurting my head.”

You’ve complained about the issue a couple times — back when it was just an itch, you assumed it was the dusty town, perhaps even sleep deprivation. But the itch has transformed into a relentless pain, moving up your temples and across your forehead.

“Again, yeah?” Jungkook asks, following with a tender gesture of tucking your hair back. The pad of his thumb brushes over your eyebrow. “I’ll massage your head before we go to sleep.”

You sigh in relief, tired eyelids shutting briefly as you claim, “You’re the fucking best, you know?”

“Yeah.” He delivers a nonchalant, drama-esque shrug of his shoulder. Unmistakable smirk. “I guess I do know.”

The giggles from when you started dating still remain. You remember annoying the hell out of your friends back then, high school butterflies visible through your stomachs and in your bright grins.

Jungkook’s ears would redden, a smile even in your eyes. You can imagine how irritating the honeymoon phase felt to them — not that the two of you ever snapped out of it.

Even now, you’re drowning in it.

Well, until you’re not.

Because the moment he slings his arm around you, leaning back, his plate and bowl empty, you move forwards. Place your own dishes onto the table, cuddling further into him.

Only, he seems to interpret it differently.

“Aren’t you eating anymore?”

Not the message you intended to deliver. But perhaps… he’s not wrong after all.

Because…

While the evening ended on a gentle note, much needed, you’re done with today by now. Craving a warm bed, strong arms around you. A sweet, soft sleep.

And the meal is worth a thousand culinary stars, but your appetite keeps dwindling, and hadn’t he put so much effort and affection into all this, you would’ve probably headed straight to bed.

So you answer truthfully, “I can’t eat more…”

“Hmm.” He briefly points to your portion. “You just ate half of it.”

Brief silence. It must’ve gotten late, because among the quieter traffic on the main road afar, you hear a couple nightlife bugs chirping, too.

You look between the bowl and him slowly, blinking, unsure what to say. The arm around your shoulder doesn’t match his tone, so it feels a little awkward now.

You mutter, “I’m sorry.”

Because should you force yourself to scarf all of this down now, you probably won’t be able to sleep.

But Jungkook’s hums and insecure voice are making you feel bad — you know he doesn’t mean to. It’s the puppy-doe nature, a combination of forlorn, soft eyes and pouty words.

“Ah… It’ll go bad by tomorrow, but…” he starts, but you cut in—

“Fridge?”

An immediate shake of his head, a click of his tongue. “Not with that one. I mean, we could, but it’s gonna be all dry and unpalatable in the morning, y’know?”

You don’t fully have a right to be annoyed. Neither of you does. But the day’s been irksome, work a mess, paper sheets flying around — on top of that, you finished your blister pack of birth control last Friday.

The period, probably approaching tomorrow and meddling with your busy schedule, is already putting you in a sour mood.

So the current lack of a solution doesn’t help your drooping eyelids and still partly tumultuous mind.

You push yourself forward on the couch, sighing before you suggest, “Okay. Then I’ll eat.”

“Woah,” he immediately voices, dropping his arm. He attempts to pull the bowl out of your reach, but you grip it tight, swallowing a small bite of rice. “I’m not forcing you to.”

“Yeah, but still.”

Another sigh of frustration falls out of you, your full stomach crying, but you pull the bowl to you, another bite ready between your chopsticks. But a moment later, Jungkook pushes your hand down again, every rice corn falling back to its prior place, fortunately never leaving the bowl.

Unbelieving, you shoot an aghast glare at him, to which he responds, “Don’t force it. Seriously.”

A rice corn still sticks to your lower lip, and you pull it in with the tip of your tongue. You place the warm meal back onto the table, half turning to Jungkook, voicing an irritated, “Dude!”

“You don’t have to,” he assures, but he looks clearly offended. Looks away, rubs his thigh, eyeing every object on the table before he adds quieter than before, “You know… That’s happened a couple times in the last few weeks.”

“…What did?”

“I’d cook for you and you wouldn’t finish it.”

“Babe… The last few weeks have been tiring.”

“I know,” his voice grows higher at the end of the syllable, but then calms again after a sigh. “But we refrigerated a lot of stuff, some of which I shared with Joon or Tae the next day. Or threw away.”

“Nah.” The ridiculing smirk you respond with isn’t intentional. You drop it right away, but still shake your head in disbelief, defending, “You know I eat up most of the time, especially when you cook. Just today, I can’t do more than this, okay?”

He gulps. Two fingers scratch his ear, eyes once again skimming over empty plates or remnant-filled bowls. He drops his digits back to his thighs, rubbing once more, and then puffs out a breath between rounded lips before he comes to a stand.

And then, all he does is nod; shooting a simple, “Alright.”

His tone is stern. You recognise the expression — his eyes still big, but different now. Usually filled with warm sparkles, they look pissed now. Not because of his dropping lids or the missing crinkles.

Jungkook doesn’t need to move a lot of muscles to look angry; the lack of the glimmer is just enough. 

His lips are shut, not parted as they usually are when he focuses on something like his art or cooking or cleaning up. He’s exhaling and inhaling deeply through his nose, hands working on the dishes, but the fall and rise of his chest…

“You’re mad,” you conclude.

He looks back at you, the corners of his mouth never moving. His tone remains flat as he tries to convince you, “No. All good.”

Straightening his back, he attempts to walk away, hiding away in the kitchen until you’ve fallen asleep. He and you don’t argue too much — the little, couple-y, casual fights aren’t quite fights at all.

But they do end with a short distance until one is ready to approach the other and communicate again. A good strategy to cool your minds. You wouldn’t wanna discuss such a thing right away.

This time, however, you don’t want him to leave.

You pull him back again, holding onto the cotton shirt, and he protests with a loud call of your name and furrowed eyebrows as you insist, “No, you are mad.”

Your hand pushes against the couch, your body lifting, and you look him in the eye with a frustrated crease between your eyebrows. “Kook, I just am not capable of finishing it right now. You’re making a bigger deal out of it than you sho—”

“Yeah. Okay,” he interrupts, feigning acceptance and understanding, “it’s fine.” You scoff; sometimes, he’s truly as moody as you. “Things are different here, it’s fine.”

…What?

The sentence nearly comes out as a whisper as he finally starts walking away, and you only register it when he’s halfway out of the room. He balances the dishes in both hands, and you follow him to the kitchen.

Ask, “What’s different? Where’s here?”

“I work, too, you know? I get tired, too.”

“Jungkook,” you try again, slamming the hand against the counter; the sound’s muffled by a bright green cleaning cloth. “What are you talking about, things are different here?”

“Just.” He doesn’t seem to wanna talk. Carefully, he places the empty stuff in the wash basin, working on finding containers to dump the leftovers in them. “I get tired from working in the city, too, but I guess I grew up differently.”

…Huh.

You wait.

Let him collect his thoughts until he tells you, “In the countryside, you work for food, so you get used to finishing dinner. I know people around here rely on supermarkets, and honestly, I do, too,” his shoulders rise as he shovels the tofu dish into a box, “and I guess that’s why it makes sense why it’s easier for you to leave leftovers.”

Wow. Some statements in this world you live in are genuinely unfair.

You understood each of his words and lectures perfectly, but you still voice a little, “Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re not being serious.”

“Maybe.”

You blink. Then blink a couple times more. Observe as he closes the boxes and puts them in the fridge with a sigh. And you feel bad, you swear, you do. But that unnecessary turn of events…

“So what, you mean we don’t work for our food, right?” you counter, a hand on your waist. “We might do less physical labour, so that must mean we don’t appreciate what we get, yeah?”

Damn. And what if there’s more to that? What if—

“Or do you think it’s because I’ve always had enough money to not worry?”

Okay. Perhaps a long shot. He didn’t say it, but what if that’s exactly what his thought process was, too?

Your inner panic, invisible on the outside, grows when he doesn’t answer, lips firmly locked as if they didn’t just spew some crisp bullshit. You fold your arms, sucking air through your nose, and then demand, “Apologise.”

And when his eyes lift to yours, you freeze. God, they’re deadly. And his ingenuine laugh even more so as he throws back, “No, you apologise. Especially for assuming things I neither said nor thought of.”

“You were rude. I’m asking you nicely to take it back.”

“As nicely as I cooked for you. World’s in balance again, I guess!”

He throws his hands up, staring at you until he’s passed you by, eyes rolling. His nonchalant, idle movements rile you up more, and you can’t help but participate further in that odd exchange.

“You douchebag,” you call out, shutting the bedroom door as you reach inside, “I’m not a snob. I’d always finish my stuff, you can even ask the cook in my old house. He loved me because I wasn’t a picky eat—”

“Listen,” he interjects again, “I know. It's fine. I’ll sleep,” he points to the bed, “because this tired me out. Just drop it.”

“So you can drop it as you please?”

“Nah, just asking you to rest,” the first word comes out louder than he anticipated, his shrug vexed and vexing. He clears his throat. “And I’m sure you’re tired of this, too.”

You groan.

“And if I want to—”

“It’ll just escalat—”

“Dude, I—”

And once more, he showcases his annoyance when he glares at you from the other side of the bed, shutting you up, blanket already lifted. You anticipate another rude remark, a way of justification or to blurt something he doesn’t mean.

But despite his recent idiocy, you don’t deem him an asshole. Not to you, at least. Which proves right as he takes a breather, one knee hitting the mattress as he finally states—

“Let’s sleep over it, okay?”

The tone still isn’t as peaceful as it could be; you know it’s a tactic to dodge a fight. You might not be on your best domestic side tomorrow yet. But his question is final and his gaze even stricter.

So you reluctantly sigh, eyes still fiery as you breathe, “Fine.”

But it’s not fine. And the turbulent week ahead, filled with chaos for you and peak comedy to others, might just be about to prove it to you.

Tuesday

You chew on your bites until the taste turns bland.

Still distracted from last night’s exchange, you barely register the tart spicy quality of your dinner; a shame because this restaurant is your favourite place to frequent with friends.

Today, you’re toying with your cutlery, catching a glimpse of your grim reflection in the spoon every now and then. Whenever Jungkook’s elbow touches yours, your heart skips a bit, bleeding as much as your eyes want to water.

With how he’s smiling at your friends, appetite never faltering, you could burst into tears — because somewhere inside, you miss him despite the constant proximity.

Perhaps he does, too.

Because you notice when he drifts closer on purpose, casually putting his hand over yours. Seemingly lost in conversations, he rubs his thumb against the soft back of your hand; but when you look at him, you can’t muster a smile just yet.

It’s your ego, your stubbornness. Pieces of you want to stay pissed. You keep your cool, but try to avert your eyes whenever possible.

And when you, obstinate as last night, pull your hand from under his, you register the defeated sigh.

But instead of starting a new topic, he retracts his fingers, putting his arm on his table as he busies his other digits with his meal. When you dare a glance, the pretty curves of his blooming lips tug upwards, listening to Taehyung’s story.

Either hiding the discomfort between you or not feeling it.

Odd, because he’s your constant centre of attention.

“Yeah, I mean. Every job is stressful, you know? But it’s wholesome, too,” Taehyung narrates. You blink the silent pining away, and focus. “Like, one of my patients is an elderly man, a lot weaker than his wife. And she always comes with him, every single time.”

“She just waits for him the entire time?” Jungkook asks.

Next to Taehyung, Eun nods; she’s probably heard the story before.

“I mean, she entertains us, is more like it,” Taehyung explains. “He’s been getting geriatric physiotherapy to regain some strength, so he needs all the motivation he can get. And those two are such… dorks. They bicker all the time.”

You smile. Reminds you of when Jungkook and you first met. Persistent, pointless rivalry.

Perhaps Eun hasn’t heard all of this after all. Because as she cuts her dinner, she asks before stuffing her mouth with a bite, “How so?”

“Like. She’ll tell him to not be a baby and take that last step during gait training.”

From your right, Jungkook’s laugh reverberates like a melody from above, sickeningly sweet and amused. “Sounds like me and you at the gym, doesn’t it?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, flicking away stray hair with his forefinger, “Yeah, only because you can lift weights that’d break my arms.”

Another chuckle from the side. Even you smile a little.

Your man is strong, alright — and you’ve always admired it, experienced it a couple dozen times.

You’ve yet to see him work out at a proper gym; the home workout sessions barely count.

Ugh. The violent heartbeat beneath your chest picks up on pace again, and you take a deep breath to calm it just a little.

“Anyway,” Taehyung continues, “then she’ll tease him how the neighbour downstairs has much more flexible legs than he does and he’ll argue how she should’ve married him… and then she tells him that she would’ve if she didn’t love his old ass so much.”

When you giggle, covering your chewing mouth behind your hand, he adds, “I swear! It’s the most standard old couple banter if I’ve ever seen one. Thought that stuff only happens on TV.”

Eun, still busy with the remnants of her meal, doesn’t look up but asks, “So they joke around like that? They don’t get mad at each other or anything?”

“They act like they do. Not a sliver of jealousy or anger in them, though. Insane… and adorable. I guess when you’re married long enough, that’s how relationships turn out. And they should, too, you know?”

Hmm…

You side-eye Jungkook for just a moment, but don’t say anything.

You don’t know what’s written in your future. No clue whether he’s a permanent presence in it, a firm part of your fate or not; you strongly hope for an eternity.

You want to picture him and you grey and old. Wrinkled hands, adorned with blue veins holding each other. Weak smiles and crinkles around his eyes, hidden behind glasses, ever-present.

If he’s your future, you hope to laugh about such fights one day. Hope to let people wonder whether you’re actually furious with each other, veiling unbridled affection behind snarky remarks.

Just… right now, you can’t laugh about it just yet. You still feel oddly offended by his words last night, and it doesn’t help when tonight seems to drift towards a similar ending.

Because as you ask for the bill at the end, Jungkook still pays. You don’t think about it too hard, letting him do, staying seated to finish your drinks.

But your exhaustion reaches a new, entirely unnecessary peak when he starts cracking his fingers. On any other day, you’d put a hand over his, reminding him not to and move on.

Today, you’re in a bad mood, and your demands come out accordingly piqued.

“Stop it.”

“Hm?” he voices, looking at you, the warm light of the restaurant reflecting in his dark brown eyes.

“This,” you point to his fingers, “stop that.”

“Why?”

“Because you know it makes me cringe. A bit annoying.”

Eun, still unaware of the tension between him and you, shrugs her shoulders, “I know that irks a lot of people, but I don’t think it’s that bad.”

“Because you do it, too,” Taehyung complains; she mocks him with a sly smirk and a quiet, Yeah, yeah. He adds, “I can’t stand it, either.”

You lift an open palm towards him, nodding, “So you understand.”

“I’ve seen you do it, too,” Eun argues with a light push against his shoulder, “multiple times!”

“But not as often as you. You start and do not stop.”

You immediately agree, “He’s just like that, too!”

To which Jungkook interjects, his voice still calm; but you still hear the growing aggravation in his voice when he starts, “Honestly, I—”

“He actually has a couple habits that are just—”

You blow a raspberry.

Your interruption triggers Jungkook. And your words, admittedly not quite the sweetest, don’t sit well with him, either, because a moment later, he’s leaning forwards again. Looking at you directly before he continues his irritating bone-cracking.

You grit your teeth and repeat, “Stop that.”

“What?” he shoots back. You flinch. “A habit you despise so much, yeah? I don’t get the same intense reaction when I do something nice for you.”

So untrue.

Fucking hell. He’s talking about yesterday again.

You exhale through your nose, possibly resembling a bull ready to attack; Taehyung and Eun shrink in front of you, grimacing at each other. You’d laugh if it wasn’t you trapped in that exasperating back and forth of exchanges.

“Oops,” Eun whispers, yet overshadowed by your words as you defend, “That’s not true.”

“Maybe,” Jungkook says, shrugging a shoulder with an outrageous smirk, “but you never get that angry when I crack them at home.”

“I just don’t say it.”

“Oh? What else do you not say, hm?”

Taehyung dares an attempt, “Guys.”

But you’re too heated, a little stupid, very ridiculous as you spit, “Like, how irritating it is that you smack your lips every other second.”

Jungkook puffs out a breath. Looks to the side, straight into Eun’s direction who sinks a little more. He curls his lower lip in, running his tongue over it, jaw clenched and sharp. If you weren’t so focused on your temper, you’d find it scorching hot.

In a harmless little fight, you’d keep annoying him until he lost it eventually, mounting you and shutting you up in the very tempting Jungkook-esque way he knows.

But not here, not right now.

Instead, he fucks you up further as he sneers, “Right.”

“Or,” you continue, “that you don’t clean up your working space after painting.”

“What?” He furrows his thick eyebrows, ignoring Taehyung’s call of Jungkook’s name. “I mean. You have all your documents scattered on the desk. I might need it, too, y’know?”

“Why don’t you say it then?” you ask, tilting your head with one cocked eyebrow of yours.

“‘Cause I wanna let you work? ‘Cause it’s important for me that you’re able to focus?” He looks away again, tutting; his shoulder moves with his deriding laugh as he mumbles, “The fuck, really.”

Somewhere inside, you feel bad. You know his words are true. But you can’t tell him yet; so you just glare at him.

As silence finally falls upon you, Eun moves towards the table again, glancing between the two of you as she wonders, “What’s wrong with you guys?”

Everything.

“Nothing,” you say.

“…You wanna go?”

You wait. Jungkook doesn’t answer. Looks to the ground. When you don’t respond either, his eyes lift to yours, still big but not as enthusiastic as usual. Intimidating even.

You stay still, so he only voices, “Uh-huh.”

And the couple, enduring your awkward moment, lets you go gladly. You pack up, finishing your drink, and when you leave your table, you notice just how many people were staring at you.

Still are.

You really embarrassed yourself in front of a crowd, huh?

As the daughter of rich parents, owning a huge ass clothing brand, this isn’t something you should’ve done. But you pray and hope that you won’t wake up to a headline, or that journalists won’t interpret your little feud as a reason to break up or some nonsense like that.

Trouble in Heaven, they’d call it. Predictable little cockroaches.

You trudge past the customers with a deep breath in; Jungkook doesn’t seem to care much, because he walks ahead, hands in the pockets of his linen cotton slacks. Doesn’t look around.

Only bids Taehyung and Eun goodbye; tells you to buckle up when the two of you get in your car; curses once or twice when he misses the green light by a second.

And when you’re at home, sighing as the night approaches its end, you shake your head. Unbelievable whatever transpired back at that place. And you thought you were warming up to each other again.

Guess it’s your fault this time.

Which is why you hum when he calls your name, watching you put on your nightwear; bed ready while you still need to take off your makeup.

His question baffles you; more so with the slightly irate tone.

“Will you still give me a good night’s kiss or?”

You roll your eyes. Don’t say anything; grab your skincare products before you get to work.

He sighs once more; you see the shake of his head before you disappear into the bathroom, hear him say, “Whatever.”

But when you come out with a light rosy scent on your skin and jump under your blanket, you still shift towards his slowly drifting body. His arm under his head, eyes closed, lower lip pouting that you target carefully and—

Press the lightest kiss against.

Immediately, you turn around. Imitate his position.

He doesn’t reach out to you as he usually does, pulling you into his arms. But you still feel the petal-soft brush of tender fingers against your arm before the touch retracts again — and eventually, you fall asleep.

WEDNESDAY

The only reason Jungkook accompanied you to the laundromat is because your clothes gathered into a huge mountain. Neglecting your responsibilities at home, you brought two bags, and he insisted on helping you out.

It's late afternoon. Work tired you out, dinner is still pending; you don’t want to be here. And the place is empty; a yawning void. Just you, alone with your tank-top and grey-blue zip up hoodie clad, messy-haired boyfriend.

The retro plastic laundromat seats tired him out, so he’s standing at the far back. His eyes follow the tossing and turning of the clothes in the washing machine, and sometimes, they trail back to you.

And you — you’re sitting in a corner, arms folded, still uncertain whether you should wait for an apology or opt for one yourself.

The distance is childish. You’re way more mature than that.

But your fight is childish, too, and you guess sometimes, even healthy couples fall back into kindergarten routines.

Once the clothes are done and dry, the journey back home approaching, he helps you out. Tramps to you, mutters a little, “Gimme. I’ll take this.”

The bag strap drags his hoodie off his shoulder a little, revealing the flowery tattoo. He doesn’t fix it; lost in thoughts and silent until home. As if he wants to say something, but doesn’t.

In the apartment, he asks, “Dinner or takeout?”

And you, learning and indisputably craving his affection in any shape or form, answer, “We can make dinner.”

“I’ll do it. Get some rest.”

You sigh in relief. There’s solace in your gratitude — today was arduous, much like the preceding days of this week. You bide your time until he’s done, and then help him set the table and clean the kitchen.

The evening passes without any hostility, but ends without many gestures of fondness, too.

THURSDAY

“You don’t need to come, too. I bet you’ve other stuff to do.”

Jungkook adjusts to your steps. He snatched a jacket way too insufficient for the frosty weather, but he won’t hurry if you don’t. Doesn’t stray from your side.

So you walk faster. Then he does, too.

He rubs his nose, shrugs a shoulder and responds, “I’ve nothing much to do today, really.”

“Yeah, but,” you pull at the sleeves of his jacket, urging him to rush through the wind, “you’ll get bored. And I’m a big girl.”

“I know that. But it’ll be fine. Wanna make sure you’re okay, too.”

He nudges your elbow. You can’t pinpoint whether he’s daring an attempt to set things right or is genuinely concerned. Or both. In some way, the tension between you lingers, and you can’t shake off the awkward feeling just yet.

So you only nod, holding off an answer for a moment. Staring ahead, you listen to the soft sounds of the city, blinded by headlights soon passing you by. A bit longer and the first snow will fall.

The consoling feeling of winter days draws closer, feels warm despite the frigid wind. Hot chocolatesque. There’s just something about wool shawls and warm jackets and old, animated Christmas movies.

One thing you miss about living in your parents’ big, fancy house in your very old neighbourhood is the chimney. The soft yellow and orange of the crackling fire, melting the cold over your skin.

Sometimes you’d sit on the fleecy white carpet, protected by a thick, warm turtleneck sweater, watching the dancing flames.

You wonder again — if Jungkook and you are truly written in the stars as one, will you move into a bigger place one day? Save money and expand the comfort of the current apartment, investing in even more soothing walls with a couple little additions.

Not the lush, exaggerated luxury you grew up with. Not necessarily anything snobby.

But casual, domestic things, like a fire side you can sit in front of, drinking tea, slow dancing and giggling in the dark. Lit by the chimney fire; familiarity.

You sigh.

“It’s been long since I went to the dentist, too,” Jungkook then says, and you hum. That’s sudden.

“You should go then.”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes darting from your face to your hands. You unintentionally bury them in the pockets of your jacket the moment he reaches out for you; and when he understands that you didn’t notice, he curls his fingers into fists. “Maybe I can get an appointment now? Do they take walk-ins?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I don’t know.” Then, upon realisation, you laugh a little and say, “I’m not going to the dentist.”

“What?”

“What?” You stare back with eyes as big as his. “Optometrist, Koo.”

His raised eyelids are nothing new. He’s attentive when it comes to you; recognises, notices and remembers every little thing. But you guess he truly has been tired, too.

And you feel bad for not considering it as much as he considered it. The reason he cooked for you in the first place, right?

You press your lips into a line, stare down to a puddle on the ground; an aftermath of the rain.

“Oh,” he makes, “why did I think we were going to— Sorry. My bad.”

In actuality, you did wonder if he knew. He didn’t ask questions when you told him you were leaving; simply announced he was going with. You were pulling socks over your ankles as his rushing form scurried across the room.

You guessed he’d figured it out. But the fact that he was ready to accompany you without a certain clue where you were heading makes you a little giddy.

Clearing your throat, you clarify, “No worries. It’s about that pain in my eyes. Remember?”

You wouldn’t be mad if he didn’t. Preceding your fight by perhaps a couple minutes, you don’t think the tiny statement still holds any relevance to him anymore.

Right?

Wrong.

“Yeah,” he answers, “yeah, of course. You thought it was an infection.”

“Mhm,” you hum, ignoring the butterfly wing slamming against your insides, “I’m so sure it’s an infection.” You click your tongue. “Itch first, and now it gives me migraines.”

“Yeah, you told me… But. It’s nothing serious, I just know.”

You look at his sculpted side profile.

You know him. Jungkook doesn’t actually know, of course — that’s not why he’s saying that he does.

But because hope is better than pure uncertainty; and he likes trying to manifest. He believes in little miracles like this. Knocks on wood a lot, tries not to voice potential disasters in case they might actually roll around.

So you take the reassurance. Walk to the clinic in silence. Attempt more small talk in the waiting room until they drench your corneas in those odd, blinding eye drops, dilating your pupils.

The brief, quick tests follow; the assistant is young and gentle, and you try your best to be a good patient. She seems to enjoy your temporarily formal behaviour, perfected in the years you grew to be a reputable heir.

You drop it once you’re in the waiting room again, awaiting the final consultation and results.

Jungkook is a restless companion. No matter how irritating, you’re used to the constant swaying and the movements of his legs. One might think he is anxious for you, eyes locking on the head doc’s office door every now and then.

Yet, he wonders, “Are you nervous?”

“Nervous?” you repeat, breathing out a tiny, amused laugh. “Nah. He’s really nice. And it’s just some eye stuff.”

“Well, eyes are important.”

The words come out quickly, but the last syllable dies gradually.

You smile.

Jungkook sometimes reminisces about a time when he’d hide from relatives or eat lunch at the back of class back in elementary school. He tires out the term introvertness, and you repeatedly retort with a certain ambivertness.

At times, he’s loud, flirty, annoying and confident — gives you a hard time believing that he ever averted a girl’s gaze or hid behind his cousins.

But then… there are moments when you see it.

Like now.

The puffy cheeks, the youthful pout, the big, big eyes flashing to the ground. Unsure what to say, unsure what you’re thinking of him.

Until he gulps, keeping his voice quiet and low as he continues, “Have you ever had a private optometrist?”

Huh. Not a question you expected. You guess starting the week with a discussion about wealth makes him think of such things these days.

“Yeah,” you say, shifting in your seat. You can still not see him clearly; his features are blurry, and you squint. “When I was younger. Big, bright places and top notch equipment.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I mean… It's not like usually used equipment, like here, is any worse than theirs. Also, same reason as why I went to a public college. Normalcy, I guess.”

“Odd.”

“…Why?”

“Because,” he draws a sharp breath, staring ahead. “Despite all the normalcy, you’re as extraordinary as can get. Money or not.”

A heartbeat passes. Among the sounds of the quiet chatter around you and the ads in the TV at lowest volume, your breath mingles with the hushed noises like a whisper.

His slowly blinking eyes are genuine, your reflection in his dark brown orbs clear. White dots sparkle like constellations in the sky, bright and plenty. It’s nice that they remind you of the sentimentality in his heart after every single serious or dumb, big or small fight.

For a moment, you keep looking. Your fingers twitch, urging to reach out, but as they start moving off your knee, you hear a call of your name.

Jungkook leans back, clearing his throat, smiles at you as you get to your feet and meet the doctor’s stare, kindly gesturing inside the examination room.

A couple more tests, a friendly conversation, more orders from his side before he gives you a diagnosis and a prescription. 

And when you head out, Jungkook’s still sitting right where you left him. One leg restless again, leaning forwards, arms on his thighs and hands intertwined. His head is hanging between his shoulders; even from afar, you see his lashes move, eyes slowly blinking.

You can’t quite explain it, but you love this point of view — when you can see his parted lips, the lower one pillowy, partly hidden behind his button nose. Cheeks round. You truly do love this watching-from-above-angle.

Even though it clearly suggests he’s bored out of his mind. Beyond done with this place, but still here, waiting for you.

You clutch the strap of your bag again, sighing, and then move towards him with light steps. The back of your fingers reaches out then, brushing against his temple a tiny moment before he detects your shoes and looks up.

“Oh. That was fast,” he says; his eyes are drooping. He had a long morning in the attic. “What did he say?”

He gets off the seat, moving his stiff neck and cracking it a little, hand flashing up to his shoulder. You explain, “I need eye drops. Two to three times a day.”

“Ah. Then we could get them right now.”

You nod, allowing a little smile, telling him as you head out, “My eyes are okay, though. Somehow, my vision has improved, too.”

Jungkook’s lips form an excited Oh, but when he sees your expression, he says, “But you seem bummed about it.”

Ah. Well.

You feel ungrateful thinking that way, but…

“In some way?” you admit. “I’d rather have an infection that can be fixed with antibiotics and won’t come back so easily instead of… you know. Having to constantly rely on eye drops. It just sounds so permanent.”

Another deep sigh; you’re exhausted as well. “And I’ll have to remember to use them.”

“Hmm,” he voices, holding the door open for you. He zips his jacket close as you step out; an immediate breath cloud forming when he exhales. “Set an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah. Just knowing myself…”

“I’ll remind you then.”

The suggestion is immediate, albeit accompanied by a seemingly nonchalant shrug of his shoulder; jacket’s sleeves adorably pulled over his hands.

“Once in the morning. You set an alarm for lunch and then I remind you again when you take your birth control pill at night. Yeah?”

The bitter feeling of the fight vanishes a little; you try to ignore the residual awkwardness, apologies probably still due. But right now, your conversation follows a different path, so you settle on a soft, little, “Thank you, Kook.”

He always does that. Remind you of your meds.

Your vitamins, your pills, that one nose spray hydrating your nose flora to prevent your mucosa from drying out or whatever your ENT doc told you. He did last night, too.

He always does — even if it means forgetting about his own responsibilities.

You blink a couple times, rubbing your eyelids before you admit, “Still hurts. Can barely see… and the streetlamps are so bright?”

“Lemme look.”

He stops in his tracks and you follow; his hand catches your wrist, pulling your fingers away from your eyes, and you turn to him slowly. You’re still attempting to clear your vision, so he orders, “Stop blinking.”

And once you do, he moves in. Takes your face in his already warm hands, staring, squinting, humming. He looks focused, and you raise your eyebrows, waiting for a conclusion until he finally mutters, “Damn.”

“What?”

He seems impressed. Looks a bit longer. You repeat, “What? Are they red? Swollen or something?”

“Nah,” he lets your face go, already stepping back as if dodging your proximity. “But,” he starts; you stare like a puppy, only breaking when he adds, “they’re pretty as fuck.”

Your playful punch rises as if on instinct.

One part of your relationship that never changed was your bicker, starting with annoyance and morphing into frisky, flirty remarks. You consider it the foundation of what makes the two of you a unit.

You grit your teeth, but can’t bite back the smile.

“Dude,” you scold, and he covers his arm instinctively, evading the punch looming over him.

But you don’t deliver it after all, dropping your hand, shaking your head instead. You say, “If you hadn’t helped me survive today, I’d—”

You steer towards him, attempting another scare, and he plays along with a flinch just before he starts laughing again. Hums and nods emphasise his words when he agrees, “You survived like a true champ. A big girl, you said, right?”

“Sure am.”

“Mhm. …My big girl?”

“Gross. Shut up.”

The atmosphere will stay odd for a while. That’s okay, you guess. At least it allows for a bit of amusement, hard to hide as you smile a little, bite your lip.

You lower your head, veiling your beam behind your hair, but you know he sees. Matches your smile — perhaps even a bit brighter than your own.

FRIDAY

The fast approaching weekend usually eases a week’s tension. But considering the mounting workload you tackled today and the endless Saturday you’ll be dealing with very soon, your muscles don’t relax just yet.

Imprisoned behind the bars of work, your thoughts circle around the schedule for tomorrow. In that sense, you come home late and can’t quite bother with the stress that spread throughout the first half of the week.

Jungkook already scarfed down tonight’s dinner, comfortably laying in bed and balancing the laptop on his stomach. From the sound of it, he’s watching videos of various genres.

Sitting on the living room couch and indulging in a short story for just a bit, you hear the enthusiastic voices of chefs rattling down recipes every now and then. It’s a hobby of his, but you can’t help but feel bad.

He studies those YouTube videos to improve his cooking skills, and you, ungratefully, leave the rest of his effort in the goddamn fridge. You sigh.

If you had the energy and will to talk it out, you’d do it now. You couldn’t all day.

He was still asleep when you left, and after work, you went to a brief dinner with a coworker to dash through details for tomorrow. Looking at the plan, you hope for at least a sliver of fun amidst the photoshoot chaos.

When you returned home, Jungkook was gaming right where you’re sitting now. You showered, only to find him back in the bedroom, with his eyes glued to said laptop. And now, as you approach the bed to end the night, he walks past you with falling eyelids.

He rubs them with the back of his tattooed hand, a tired pout on his face contradicting the seemingly badass image that the ink usually gives him. Hard shell, soft core and all.

“Be right ba—,” Jungkook’s hazy voice informs, last syllable broken by a yawn. “Go to bed, okay?”

His palm moves across your upper arm as he passes you by, and you nod, steering towards the inviting, warm mattress. Its surface melts with your body when you drop. God, you’re exhausted; can barely think.

You don’t think it’ll take you particularly long to drift away; and just when your consciousness slips, you feel an arm around you.

A soft hug, enveloping you. He drops his face to yours, lips gently pressing against your cheek for a moment before he adjusts the blanket over the two of you.

A current of warmth courses through your veins, and you draw a deep, long breath of affection when he cuddles into you. He must be thinking you’re asleep but slowly falling out of dreams, because he pulls you in and rubs your arm.

An effective tactic he usually wields to help you fall asleep. 

He puts a leg gently over yours, his body so close to yours that you feel bits of the combustion of your heart.

Because…

Despite your stupid feud, you’re kind of happy that he’s joined you under the thin blanket, pressing more featherlight kisses against your scalp. Sighs against it.

And you can’t withhold the smile when he brushes over your clothed tummy and whispers, “My feisty little girl.” 

SATURDAY

You remember to unclench your jaw.

The stress hardens your muscles. Your limbs are stiff, eyes unblinking until they dry out. Fingers wrapped around your phone, you hold the device firmly, shutting out the telling vibrations of notifications.

This cannot be.

There are a hundred fires burning around you. Erupted chaos causes panic, and in the middle of it are you, clueless and vexed beyond measure.

It’s one thing cancelling a shoot a couple days before it takes place — and another thing to call sick at the very last moment. You didn’t think the model would ditch you like this… but now that he has, you can’t figure out how to replace the missing piece of the shoot.

Your troubled co-workers call out a dozen names, but you don’t say a word, gazing around with a crease between your eyebrows.

This whole thing needs to be out in the open by Friday, and the photographers and editors need time. So, postponing this to Monday and the release of the ads to another weekend won’t work, right?

No.

You’re at the headquarters of this brand. And you’re one of the organisers of this shoot and project. Every single shop will need to postpone if you do.

Unprofessional. Goes against the schedule.

The complaints are still on full blast when you see a calm movement from the corner of your eye. You move your head to the left, peeking through the glass door, and on the other side awaits—

A wide-eyed man, staring inside, observing the tumult like he’s stepped into the jungle. He’s wearing a white shirt, tucked into jeans, long bangs hanging into his eyes and enhancing the sweet gaze so wonderfully.

Pieces of your stress melts — but you still can’t figure out why he’s standing there.

You walk to the door automatically, throwing a tiny smile when he detects you among the staff. A big hand waves in tiny, and you open to let him in.

“Hey,” you greet, pushing back to where you stood before. He follows. “What are you doing here?”

As you come to a stand, he puts a hand on your waist lightly, drawing close to press a kiss to your temple. Then, he responds, “Picking you up?”

“Wh—”

Oh. Shit.

You were going to go out and celebrate the end of the stressful week. He’d suggested it last weekend because he already knew how hectic today would be.

Ughhhh.

You’re terrible.

Jungkook realises your forgetfulness the moment your expression changes into a guilty one. His curious, innocent look drops with his eyebrows, and he sighs when you say, “I’m sorry, Kook.”

When he stares down at his shoes, you feel a wave of shame; the noise around you fades for just a second as he half sullenly, half disappointedly asks, “Really?”

“I swear… It’s not my fault.”

It’s not an excuse; not a lie.

He looks disheartened; knowing him, stupid argument or not, he was probably looking forward to this. Fuck, you feel bad.

Despite his obvious drop in mood, he doesn’t say anything much. Instead, he nods and assures, “It’s fine. What happened?”

You look around again. From afar, you see a coworker approach. She looks hopeful and you take the crumbs, but you still explain, “Everything should be done by now. We got most of the pictures, but… one of the guys bailed on us.”

“Shit, really? What now?”

You shrug your shoulders, once again racking your brain for a solution. People here are counting on you, but it’s not you who brings the very first somewhat reasonable suggestion of today.

Only somewhat reasonable, though.

Because the coworker approaching ogles at Jungkook like a pirate at a treasure, pupils big and wondering as she suddenly says, “Hold. Did you come up with that?”

You blink.

Then ask, “What?”

“You called him here?”

“What?” you repeat, a confused, little parrott.

She rolls her eyes, “He,” she points at Jungkook with a thumb, “is not allowed in here. Usually. So I assumed you called him as a replacement.” She tilts her head. “And he’s freaking perfect!”

Per—

What? No, no, no. That’s absolutely nothing you planned or permitted.

“No?” Instinctively, you take a step to the side, right in front of his broad shoulders as if to protect him from harm. You argue, “He’s not a model. He’s an artist.”

From behind, you hear, “I’m just an artist.”

“Yeah, but,” she throws back, “you’re art, too. I won’t lie.”

Another step back until your back almost touches his chest. His fingertips graze your hip, as a warning before you stumble over his feet. You can imagine the subtle rosy dust on his cheek; he’s fond of compliments.

As everyone is, you suppose. But. 

“Hey, careful,” you tell her, disguising it as a joke, but feeling the lightest burn in your stomach when he laughs at her words.

She raises her pretty lips to a prettier smile, nodding in reassurance as she promises, “Yes, I know he’s taken.”

Another quiet chuckle from behind you, and you cock an eyebrow before he changes the topic and admits, “Seriously, I’m not a model at all and barely know what these things are like…”

To which she waves off his concerns and explains, “Oh, you just need to look good. We’d put some make up and clothes on you, a few pics and we’re done.”

Sounds easy enough. A bit like an insult to actual models, kind of putting those to shame who ran across stages for years to study, internalise and perfect their movements.

But you don’t correct her because you’re desperate, too. And right now, this sounds the easiest.

Still, he murmurs, “I’m not sure.”

“I understand if not,” she says. Her tone changes, fragments of frustration in it. “It’s just that we’re running out of options.”

Once more, you play out the upcoming week mentally. Postponing the last shoot. Postponing the release. Postponing the seasonal launch.

None of this is your fault, but you’d still be the one to get all the wary looks.

As if on cue, Jungkook squeezes your hip, and you look at him with worry painted across your face. You know he sees it immediately, but he still asks, “Is it that bad?”

You nibble at your lip, putting a hand over his as you say, “Yeah. We do need someone.”

“Is that allowed? Can I just replace a guy?”

“I’m technically the boss here, so you’d just need my permission,” you take a breath and then click your tongue, “I mean, usually we’d just reschedule, but we don’t have the time and those shoots already take hours. And in your case, we’d do all the paperwork, contract stuff later.”

“Would it help you?”

He’s considerate. Even in a stressful moment like this, the gentle tone, the deep care makes you weak. The answer’s already clear, but you still tell him, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Again, it… might take up to two hours or so.”

“But it’d help you, babe, wouldn’t it? Unless you don’t want me to. Then I won’t.”

You don’t have a single problem with this; in fact, you’d be happy to put him in front of a camera. His genuine thoughtfulness liquefies you — you’re a puddle at this point.

“Oh, I… Jungko—”

Juri intrudes, “I’m sorry,” carefully, she inches closer, nodding over her shoulder, “Just wanna say that we have a lot of designers in our team. They do logos and make the posters and all. Maybe, if they saw you — because the country already knows you as her artistic man from newspapers — they could teach you some digital art stuff.”

“I…” Jungkook starts. He’s probably thinking the same — which he confirms when he adds, “I’m not sure how me modelling for you might relate to artistic stuff. But I already know a lot about digital art.”

Yeah, exactly. Of course he does; what else did he wade through college for throughout these years?

“But,” she lifts a finger, infinite force in one word already, “have you ever tried expensive equipment and all?”

Oh oh. You feel bad.

Is that the group of society you represent? Maybe you guys are a little pretentious after all, dealing and seducing with money.

But he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t dare to challenge her when he steps next to you and says, “I can do it, but not for that digital art offer.” He puts a hand on your back, rubbing lightly and briefly, “For her.”

You fold your arms under your chest; less to show dominance, but more to press against the butterflies. There’s a type of nausea falling in love elicits, deep in your stomach where everything appears so surreal and beautiful that it makes you oddly sick.

The first time your pupils took on their heart shape was the first moment Jungkook practised that effect on you; made you realise what inevitable emotions he was pulling you into.

That effect has not faltered; your guts still twist.

At least, for a couple minutes.

Because the second your coworker-vultures attack him and drag him to the back room, something changes. Nervousness, you guess. You know the clothes that are awaiting him, but stepping out of makeup and into the spotlight leaves you gasping for air.

From afar, he’s leering at you.

Wearing a snow white shirt, tucked into his pants, priorly tousled hair still messy but styled in curls. Yes, you might know your collection — but you didn’t think it’d fit him like second skin.

Why did you doubt it, though? Jungkook could wear a trash bag and still compete against Adonis.

For a moment, he stands still, entangling his fingers, looking around. Then, he’s smiling in uncertainty, awkwardly putting his hands on his tiny waist, waiting for directions.

Juri tip-toes towards you, as if you’re filming a scene in a drama. She pulls the clipboard to her chest, one digit pointing to your struggling man before she says, “He’s adorable.”

You nod. “I wonder how he’ll do.”

“Well, yeah,” she murmurs, half distracted; but then she averts her eyes from him, looking from your nervous lips up to your furrowed eyebrows before she assures, “Worst case scenario, we’ll postpone. End of story. At least we tried.”

“Hmm… Well, let’s hope it won’t be that case.”

Which, you soon realise, it certainly isn’t.

A couple professional suggestions by the director and Jungkook gets into position. The initial movements of his hands and body are a little strange and awkward, and you can’t help but want to pull him from this chaos and wrap him in a fuzzy blanket.

But the seemingly feigned adorable stance soon shifts into something unexpectedly dangerous when he raises his chin. Thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, he relaxes his body, lips suddenly forming a tempting, slight pout.

He doesn’t usually look like that…

“Wow,” you whisper, faintly registering Juri’s fascinated nod from the side.

This is still a harmless pose, you think; one the director dared him to do. But you’re surprised by the sudden confidence, the way Jungkook doesn’t fumble or stutter or question anything.

Some of his softness shines through the moment the photographer gives a thumbs up, a tattooed hand cracking the fingers of the others. Doe eyes back, he leans forwards as if he could peek at the pictures like that, asking cautiously, “That okay?”

He looks different. Why does he look different?

“That was great! Perfect start. I promise the rest is just as easy,” the team encourages him, asking him to monitor the pictures they just took.

Jungkook walks to the strangers in slow steps, chest behind the tight, white top heaving once. On his way, he looks up to you instinctively, throwing the same thumbs up at you with a questioning gaze.

And you, still baffled, smile.

Watch as he converses with the people, his grin wide when he likes what he sees — an instant confidence boost, though you still see the nervousness in his stance. Where was any of it when they clicked the photos?

As if a demon possessed him for just a minute. Dual and dangerous.

Then again, he’s not very different in your daily life. A celestial soul on some days, catering to your every whim, never letting your feet touch the ground.

And a beast on others, inhaling your sounds like a starving incubus, never heaving your body off the mattress.

The duality doesn’t disappear with this very first outfit.

When some music starts playing and they tell him to move freely, filming the sequences for the ads, your eyeballs nearly fall out of your eyes. And you finally realise why he looks so different now.

Because the moment his thumb touches his lower lip, mimicking a wiping motion (much like he does after kissing you sometimes), you see the silver-plated jewellery glimmering from all the way from the set.

Lip ring.

Whose idea…

“What did you do back there?” you ask, near-panicking, your heart dropping into your panties.

Juri flinches, asking, “What?”

“Is that a lip ring? You gave him a—”

You puff out a breath; it’s immensely difficult to be mad at him like this. He’s been looking…

“Shouldn’t we have?” her tiny voice asks; her body shrinks a little.

“I mean. I just. It wasn’t planned.”

“Yeah, but look how amazing he looks.”

You’re seeing it, alright.

The subtle touches, the light tugging at his shirt. Movements just right. He looks all serious, like a beast, hotter than motherfucking hell. Transports your saliva into your windpipe with each look he sports.

Until you actually feel yourself choking and gagging once he leaves and comes back for the next shoot twenty minutes later.

Because why on Earth did they omit the shirt under the grey blazer?

You’re close to dashing to costume and makeup, confronting them to ask why they chose to toy with your sanity like this. Because… the lip ring is still there. His hair is suddenly slicked back. Fingers adorned with rings.

And he looks so goddamn good.

Maybe it’s your fault. You told them you trusted them, and that they were supposed to do as they pleased. And they are… they so are.

All of him, like a strong magnet, pulls you in, but you keep your feet firmly on your spot, cementing yourself in place. There’s something incredibly attractive about the way he presents himself — new, talented.

You’re fidgety, a sexually frustrated observer when he touches his jacket, pulling it open just a little. The inked hand is veiny; you see it from here, too. The light gesture allows glimpses of his chest.

Small, perked, brown nipples. Lines and ripples of his abs firm. Ending in his V-line, hidden behind the peeking underwear and blue, baggy jeans.

Heavy chains are already menacing when he shuts his eyelids and parts his lips. Worse when he leans forwards, hazy eyes staring into the camera as if he’s about to devour the camerawoman.

Jeon Jungkook is a hazardous danger to society. The world will want him — and he’ll only want you.

Fuck.

You’re drooling. Drowning in your own puddle. Crossing your legs.

And when they tell him to sit, ordering to open the button of his jeans and push it down his hips just a bit, the little yous in your brain wreak havoc.

A fire starts in the organised office of your mind, red sirens blaring, and you look at Juri as you ask, “Why is he naked?! Why’s the blazer off his shoulder?!!”

“Because,” she defends, hiding behind the clipboard; it’s not her fault. That’s what the other model would’ve done, too. “Underwear ads!”

You’re aware. You just didn’t think it’d be Jungkook ending up in this position. Perhaps you didn’t think it through; didn’t know what it’d do to you.

But his effect pools in your lower stomach; so intense, you might cry.

“What the fuck,” you mumble when he takes the jacket off, sitting up and improvising all of a sudden. A hand covers his mouth, the blazer thrown over his shoulder. “What’s the point of holding it? He’s not even wearing it.”

“Because,” she starts again, “we’re focusing on the underwear.” Where’s the focus on the underwear? You can barely see it. Are people plotting against you? “It’s okay.” She pats your shoulder. “No one’s gonna touch him, love.”

You bite your lip. You know.

You aren’t distressed because you’re mad. But because knowing that everybody will crave him and nobody will get him turns you on more.

The fact that you’re the only one he’ll look at with those starry eyes; with the hunger in his gaze. The only one he’ll press into your bed, lips close to your ears, whispering endearments and filthy, little promises.

This man wants you, and you can barely handle that truth.

New thoughts and ideas form in your mind, too wild and desperate to be occurring right in this moment. So you mentally whoosh them away, holding on for the rest of the neverending shoot until a round of genuine applause sounds around the big set.

God. Okay. Hours of torture later, and he’s done.

A shy bow. No. This monster might convince anyone else, but you know he’s not as innocent as he gives himself.

He jogs over to you, says quietly enough for only you to hear, “Don’t tell them, but that was great.” You can imagine. He backs away, looks down to his defined abs, “I need to change. And then we can head home, they said.”

You blink, perplexed and still out of words. Which he struggles to interpret, looking over his shoulder and then back to you. Unsure, he adds, “Unless you need to wrap things up.”

When a random shout echoes through the room, you awake, inhaling deeply before you tell him, “No, I. I mean, yeah, we’ll wrap things up, but that shouldn’t take too long. Should be mostly done when you are.”

He nods. Waves, and then steers towards the others, shaking hands and exchanging smiles. Short convos. Then, to the back room. 

You’re too out of your mind and tired to chat much with staff. You go through the next steps, talk about waiting for the editor to be done with the photos, list the leftover things on your to-do list before the winter launch.

And that’s it. You meet Jungkook at the exit to the hallway, relieved when the end of the day approaches. On your way back home, you converse lightly, though he stops when you yawn one too many times.

He lets you rest as you pass shops and traffic lights, and holds your hand when you get off the vehicle. Drags you up the stairs; the climb is arduous. And then allows you to get ready for your slumber in peace.

The second the back of your head collides with the cold pillow, your eyes drop shut. The world spins behind your tired eyelids, adjusting to the darkness and the silence.

A sigh of relief pushes out of your mouth; a profound sense of tranquillity calms your lit nerves. Jungkook, next to you, seems just as exhausted because the yawn as soon as he slips under the covers is long and tear-inducing.

He’s blinking away the dampness of fatigue when you look over to him; you haven’t talked much since you arrived home, but Jungkook uses the moment to say, “I had a lot more fun than I expected to have.”

You’re so incredibly thankful for his last-minute rescue. But you can’t help but think of the muscles and expressions an hour prior. The seductive gaze, the lip accessory, the ring-clad fingers.

Perhaps it’s because of the time of the month, but you feel vexed by how affected you feel.

You control your tone, though the word still sounds monotone when you say, “Good.”

Catching upon it immediately, he shifts slowly, sniffling and head propping up on his hand before he asks, “Did you not like it?”

“Oh no, I mean,” you start, “you were amazing. I just didn’t know they’d send you out naked for the world to see. Thought the plan was to close a couple buttons.”

“The stylists told me. I think it was a spontaneous change because—”

You glance at him when he hesitates. A sly smile spreads across his features, just a little guilty yet amused as he watches your curiosity grow.

“What?” you ask.

“Nevermind.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“It’s nothing!” he exclaims. “We just thought it’d look cool. I thought you’d like it, too, actually.”

You did. That’s the issue. You liked it enough for it to burn into your mind, and now you can’t shake the image anymore.

No matter how many times you’ve seen him butt naked, buried inside you without a gap between your skin — something about his confidence and eyes stirred an unknown level of desire in you.

But you can’t tell him. Because the thing you want won’t be possible right now. You keep your thoughts veiled.

Instead, you unleash your annoyance because God, you hate him for being so hot.

“Right,” is all you say.

“Hey, don’t worry. Even if they ask, I’m not doing this again.”

“Might make you famous, though,” you mumble.

He snorts, fingers sneaking to your tummy, “So what? That’s not my profession. I didn’t study to become a model. Will work on my actual efforts.”

“Okay.”

The single word forces a sigh out of him, and he shakes his head, tapping his fingers against your stomach as he whispers your name thrice. Like he’s scolding you.

And then, “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you spit without hesitation, “of whom?”

You’re not. And you know that just for the moment, he won’t believe you. Which is fine. You’ll tell him the truth once your period’s over for the month.

“Of people who might see me and like what they see.”

Okay. Jerk.

At this point, he is doing it on purpose. You see it in the cocky smile and the jesting tone and the way his fingertips draw circles over your shirt, itching to sneak underneath the fabric.

You know him.

He’s so annoying.

“No,” you repeat.

“You sure? Huh?” Fuck, not that sulky voice. You close your eyes, but he raises your chin, making your head move. “Look at me, angel.”

“Hmm?”

“You said no, but you do look a little fiery,” he tells you. Yeah, if he knew that the real reason doesn’t lie in envy or whatever the world thinks of him. “What? My girl is jealous of people I won’t even perceive?”

No.

But she does feel the tickling, flattering lust pooling in her lower stomach, Jeon, thank you very much.

“Jungkook,” you start, although breathier when he moves closer, towards your neck. “Don’t be annoying.”

Which triggers a slightly mocking tone; he tuts before he says, “Baby bails on our date today. Will fight me in a restaurant. And then I’m annoying?”

Your answer is immediate and as shameless as can be.

“Yes.”

And it makes him laugh. Hot and sudden against your skin, his breath makes you shiver more than the relentless cold outside ever could.

“Not gonna lie,” he begins, “that brat behaviour isn’t too terrible.”

“Shut the fuck up, you just—”

He just what? You don’t know. Your sentence floats between you when his nose raises your chin, freeing the path to your neck before he’s nuzzling it slowly.

You feel goosebumps at the back of your neck, hair standing up, tingles across your body where you didn’t deem them possible. Under the blanket, your legs shift, and he hurries to move one of his between yours.

Hand still on your shirt, he places a barely-there, soft kiss to your neck; his fine tresses tickle your face and you crumble.

You have long forgotten your unfinished sentence, but he hasn’t. Asks, “What?”

You bury your nails into his arm, intrigued by the little hiss followed by a subtle laugh. Growing in volume when you say, “I kinda hate you right now.”

“Oh yeah,” he agrees, stretching the second word, “I hate you, too. Absolutely loathe you.”

You silence. Hold onto him when he French kisses between your neck and shoulder. And then breathe, “Then go away.”

“Mhh. Maybe I should.”

“Maybe…”

And then, out of the blue, his teeth dig into your neck like a gentle vampire, stopping immediately when you wince desperately. A hot tongue soothes the bite, a strong hand pushing you down by your shoulder again when your body lifts off the bed just a bit.

He keeps you in place, moving to your jaw. And when you whimper in lust and want, navigating his leg closer to your core, he curses, “Fucking hell, babe.”

Then, he’s inhaling, fingers wandering from your shoulder to your wrist as lips finally clash.

His body moves half onto yours, slowly gauging your reaction to the kiss as if he’s still expecting the burst of cumulated emotions. But when you give into his gesture, granting him your tongue, his face moves further against yours.

Undecided fingers let your wrist go, getting ahold of a patch of your hair. You hold his arms again until you wrap yours around him, fingers on the nape of his neck as you pull him in.

You tilt your heads in unison, deepening the kiss, drinking him up. Let him open your lips with his, keeping them like that, tips of your tongues playing with each other.

His touch drops to your waist and down to your pyjamas, pushing them down a little, grazing your panties. But then, his teasing palm floats up again and settles over one of your tits, squeezing once and drawing a telling moan out of you.

No bra.

He loves your little habits. You live through them casually, never noticing how badly they empty his mind.

Seems your head is blanking just as much at his touches; because you look delirious, lost, breathing in and out heavily. Jungkook basks in the expression, pushing a hand to your neck.

And only when he presses in gently, trapping you in place, do you seem to wake.

Eyes shoot open, and you inhale deeply, as if saved from drowning; remember every bit of today. The lines of his abs. The lip ring. The jewellery on his fingers.

You could ask for him to go on, to wreck you thoroughly. But of all arguments stopping you from doing so, there’s one damn reason that asks to prevent the mess.

Fucking period. Would create a literal bloody chaos. And you’re exhausted.

The thing is — if you asked him, you know he’d give it to you.

He’s reckless and careless. But you can’t risk the state of your sheets and the state of your mind. You have more work to do tomorrow; also, if you continued now, you’d be tired and immobile tomorrow, you know — and you need to be awake for this.

Fully in your senses.

Ugh. Fuck.

And the last damn day of the red waterfall, too. Thinking about it, perhaps that’s the reason for your agitation this week.

In hindsight, you know you’re never bitchy like that — he didn’t give you the nickname of an angel for nothing, right? Fuck PMS. Fuck mood swings.

Your poor boy, enduring the wrath of it.

But maybe you need to act pissed just a bit longer because—

“What?” he asks.

It’s not the time. So you stop him, pushing him away lightly. Shake your head, calling forth a crease between your eyebrows, turning away just a bit.

He falls back, once again keeping his upper body up by his arm. Inquires, “I— are you still mad?”

Truthfully, you answer flatly, “I’m on my period.”

“So?” he answers, laughing until he sees your lips, pressed into a serious line. “I’m not scared of some blood.”

You knew it. He’d give in if you told him to.

But what you want can’t be received during this time of the month. What you want requires unhinged chaos, carelessness, breathlessness. Craze of many minutes, hours.

You want more than a short, cautious session that asks you to peek at the sheets and the towel you’d get every now and then. You want to fucking lose yourself in hi—

“Let’s not,” you answer, your tone nonchalant, “Just. Let’s go to sleep, alright?”

He murmurs your name, trying again; but when you turn on your belly, giving a last sign to end the night, you hear him groan quietly.

You grimace when his head falls onto the pillow with an angry thump, movements under the blanket agitated as he scolds, “My God. Alright. You wanna be pissed for an entire week, then be pissed. I can’t do more than that.”

Oof.

If he only knew. And something in you tells you that he will very soon.

SUNDAY

Too lazy to work through the preparation process in the kitchen, Jungkook and you quietly decide to spend lunch outside.

The café nearby is a place you’ve wanted to visit for quite some time now. And despite the flaky, dry sandwiches they served, you’re glad time passed quickly, the awkward conversations between you coming to an end.

When you return from the bathroom, the sky above looks grey. Desolate. The weather forecast predicted a surprisingly pleasant late fall day, but the approaching rain is obvious. Which, you anticipated more than the weather forecast did, really.

That’s why an umbrella is leaning against the leg of the table, and you grab it as you watch Jungkook fumble with his wallet, stuffing it into his back pocket.

He gulps down the last sip of his Matcha Latte, dimples above the corner of his lips as he smacks the taste away. Then, he gets to his feet, asks, “Ready to go?”

Absent-mindedly, you nod, glancing to the sky and then back to him again. He looks sweet and domestic; but you can’t quite take him seriously. Not necessarily because of the fight anymore.

It’s been far too many days to still dwell.

But because of the damn lip ring, the open jacket, the gelled back hair. His destructive expressions. Like he could devour you whole.

Jungkook doesn’t stay angry for a long time, you’ve noticed. He always tells you how his temper used to be worse as a teenager, but how he’s learned to control himself.

Agonies of childhood, relationships and friendships taught him patience. And you notice. You truly notice.

Because he hands you your purse sweetly, immediately stretching his palm towards you. A slight smile spreads across his face, and you respond with a weak one of yours. Take his hand and let him lead you home.

You’ll walk the short distance; it shouldn’t take longer than seven or eight minutes.

And as you approach home, the hand holding yours mimics the motions of the one gripping the umbrella — he brings both arms into swing, somewhat euphoric but casual when he says, “The food was so dry there.”

It’s odd, talking to him like that after several days again. But you nod slowly, and agree, “I know. But at least we know where not to go anymore.”

“Yeah. But I mean, great beverages.”

“The milkshake, too.”

He tugs you a little closer, elbows soon touching, “I still think you should’ve gotten something warmer. You get a cold fast,” he looks up with squinted eyes, “and it’s already chilly today.”

You squeeze his hand as a thank you; Jungkook cares for you in little, subtle ways, and you’d lie if you said you didn’t think of it every now and then. You answer, “I feel fine, though.”

“Okay. Hope that stays.”

His palm, soft in yours, shifts until he’s intertwining his fingers with yours, attempting a stronger grip. You lift your eyes from the ground to his face for a second, meeting a gentle smile, and feel more pieces of your heart split.

They wander through your body, along your arm and straight into his chest, merging with his own organ. If you could, you’d push him against one of the unlit lamp posts, parted lips opting for his, breathing into his mouth.

He infested your thoughts and stuck with you, no way to escape the moment you first fell for him. And somehow, he managed to keep this effect intact, digging deeper into your mind and making himself home every damn second of the day.

The desire you’ve been feeling doesn’t just stem from lip rings and talent behind the camera. But you also keep realising that you’re truly this man’s, and that this man is truly yours.

A hard truth to fathom when you’re the subject of interest to one unique Jeon Jungkook.

But you want all of him. Want him over you, around you, taking all of what no other guy will ever be allowed to touch. Want him to show you once again where you belong and that you’re in this for as long as his affection is aligned with yours.

Fuck. Home is too far away.

So you look away from him. Which he interprets in an entirely wrong way.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, an inquiry out of nowhere that has your eyebrows kissing.

“No,” you answer.

“You barely talk to me. And,” he halts to wipe away a raindrop. Guess the clouds are gathering. “And I miss you.”

Your ribs might break. He keeps doing this to you.

“I’m not mad, Kook. Was just PMS-ing before,” you try again, adding a nickname for good measure.

“You sure?”

Jungkook is a free-spirited soul, careless to a healthy degree most of the time. There are only a few things that break his composure; familial insecurities, shitty pasts — and then there’s you.

Topping his list of priorities, you’re the only aspect in his current life that pushes him into spirals of overthinking.

And right now, he’s in the middle one, requiring a thousand reassurances. You want to answer. You really do.

But the distraction from above proves too strong the second you open your mouth. In the middle of your walk, the clouds explode, roaring for a moment before a downpour suddenly showers onto you.

The raindrops are thick, the bursting clouds aggressive.

Instinctively, Jungkook opens the umbrella, hastily working on it, and once under it, your steps pick up on pace. You wrap an arm around your body, closing the jacket, hooking your other arm with his and pushing the two of you forward.

“Shit,” you say; you look up, but can barely see anything. Only hear the thunder.

The wind grows colder, grazing the skin of your face incessantly. Despite the umbrella, the merciless rain wets your cheeks, singular drops flying towards you. Jungkook’s hair covers his face, and he shakes them off his eyes.

You gasp when a literal newspaper flies past you.

“Come on,” you encourage, already shivering. “We can talk about it at home, okay?”

But surprisingly, incredibly lost in his own head, he doesn’t give in. He adjusts to your pace, holding the umbrella in a strong grip, sighs and argues, “We can talk about it anytime.”

“Not now.”

“But—”

“Kook, right now’s not the time for this.”

Holy shit.

This man is a phenomenon. And you wish he wasn’t serious, but you know that he is. A full-on simp-y fool, no matter what.

“You’ve avoided me all week,” he yells over the sounds of the rain, sniffling, looking at the storm ahead, “we won’t die. It’s just rain.”

“It’s a thunderstorm, you idiot!” you exclaim back, moving straight forward and past running passengers. You should be home soon. “And in a minute we won’t be able to see shit.”

Jungkook must be made of cement. Broad shoulders, a well-trained body and willpower seem to combat the storm when he suddenly halts in his steps.

Immediately, you grab the umbrella, keeping it from nearly flying away; and when you remain the only presence under it, you ogle back. Watch him stand there in his red-white jacket, getting soaked by Mother Nature.

What the fuck.

You rush back, grabbing his wrist, pulling him forward as much as you can as you reprimand, “What the hell are you doing? Come on.”

“You’ll talk to me if I do?”

“Jungkook, we’ll die here, I—”

You flinch and gasp when another strong wind blows, once and for all ripping the umbrella off your hand and making it fly a couple feet from you. You watch it break through the fog of rain, mouth wide open with a dozen curses on your tongue.

“Fuck,” you exclaim, gritting your teeth, “I will. Just please, okay?!”

He’s so annoying. The way he looks at you, breathing hard, white shirt drenched and sticking to his body. You tug at his arm, forcing him to run when you do.

It takes you two entire minutes, wordless as you wish them to be, to reach his street and apartment. You tremble in the hallways, rushing up the stairs, and eventually take a seconds-long breath when you step into the flat.

It’s cold. So cold — and you had your jacket protecting your shirt. Your jeans and hair are soaked, your socks a sponge, soaked in a couple millilitres of water.

But it’s relieving when you take the jacket and your jeans off, pulling out the oversized, wrinkled shirt from under your pants, covering half your thighs. Jungkook slips out of his boots and rushes for a towel, approaching your heaving form at the door to dry your hair.

You quiver for a couple more minutes, fearing an approaching cold after all. But once settled on the couch, indulging in the comfort of thick joggers and a fresh cotton shirt, you sigh.

The silence still holding on only breaks when you drop your head back on the couch. A warm hand sneaks to your cheek, and when you open your eyes, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Warming up…” You lean into the touch, though still irritated by his behaviour before. “Thought it’d rain, but that was a surprise.”

“Yeah.” A pause. And then, “Was a little romantic, too.”

Unbelievable.

You roll your eyes at him, head tilting, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. Perhaps he’s joking. The goofy smile suggests that he is.

“Was it, yeah? You just—”

You click your tongue. Think back to him nearly offering his soul to Zeus just a couple minutes ago. Standing in the heavy rain as if he was the lead character in The Notebook.

“Don’t be mad now. I’m kidding,” he says. His voice isn’t as soft anymore; frustrated when he tries again, “Talk to me. What’s the problem?”

“Seriously? I told you there’s nothing.”

“Nah, cut that bullshit. You haven’t talked to me or properly touched me all week. I’m trying my fucking best.”

“I know. This isn’t what it’s about,” you defend, shaking your head, getting to your feet, “but about that insane little stunt out there.”

And the fact that he’s been driving you crazy. The week’s distress mixed with whatever he made you feel yesterday; today’s insanity further adding to it.

When he doesn’t speak, you sigh, waving it off, and opt to walk away. But all in vain.

You make it two steps away from the couch before he flashes up, too; filmesque, you gasp at the strong grip around your elbow, getting a tiny second to process the situation before he’s twirled you around.

He probably didn’t intend it, but you nearly clash against him, stupidly losing your balance and stumbling over his and your own feet. You put a hand to your temples, fearing the worst — what if you fall and clash against the corner of your glass table?

But no. In slow motion, he keeps you in his firm hold, preventing the fall, but still letting you gently drop onto the fluffy, white carpet. Your investment. You’re happy about it now because it caught you the way the wooden floor wouldn’t.

Your movements towards the grounds are slow — or at least that’s what they feel like. But when he appears above you, pinning your wrists to the carpet hard, he’s breathless; and you think that maybe the fall didn’t happen as slowly after all.

“Okay,” he says through gritted teeth. From down here, his jaw looks as sharp as a ship’s deck, the Adam’s apple bobbing when he challenges, “You’re gonna fucking tell me what’s going on.”

Oh. He’s mad.

His eyes are burning, jaw flexed. Defined chest rising in anger.

There’s nothing going on. At least nothing that warrants another fight.

But you don’t tell him that just yet. Instead, all your perplexed mind and tongue manage is, “What?”

“I forgave you. We were both shitty that day, you know? But I still did forgive you, and you’re still being like that.” His knuckles must be paling, because his grip is iron hard. “Why?”

“I—”

“I’ll apologise if that’s what you want. I did, actually. I’m sorry, okay? There. But this is just,” fingers squeeze your wrists, and you hiss, “ridiculous.”

Your following grimace, lips twitching, eyes squinting, go through to him immediately. The hold doesn’t hurt or bother you too much, but the leg between your knees does. Jungkook wouldn’t wound you; he knows his limits.

But perhaps he thinks he’s going overboard when he loosens his fingers, pressing his palms against your skin, rubbing to soothe the missing pain.

He doesn’t quite move away, though, still stubborn when you assure once again, “I’m not mad at you anymore.”

“So you keep saying.”

“I’m not,” you tell him, heart racing at the proximity. You close your legs around his knee, irritated by the barrier. “I promise.”

He doesn’t give your gesture much attention just yet; doesn’t know that his body over yours is exactly what you’ve been craving. But he does understand the sincerity in your voice. Finally.

When he moves closer, pupils melting to fluid gems, you let out an intentional, teeny tiny moan that you’re sure he confuses for a relieved sigh. He moves his palms onto the carpet, caging you in; you keep your wrists where they are, but dig your nails into your skin.

You want to kiss him so badly. You miss him so much.

“Then tell me what’s wrong, angel,” he demands again, quieter and softer this time.

“I don’t know.”

With the fury evaporating bit by bit, his eyes look bigger and rounder again. The desperation of the week gathers in them and his expression, shooting all the way down to his tongue; and when he whispers to you next, your heart collapses, “Please?”

He’s sweet… so utterly oblivious to your true thoughts.

But you couldn’t feel more embarrassed about the pictures you’ve been painting and the words ghosting in that mind of yours. He’d do all of it, no questions asked. But… fuck.

“This is so dumb,” you answer, fingertips dragging down the carpet and then up to his waist, “like… you’ll laugh.”

The touch encourages him. His arms are shaking now, holding him up in this position for too long, and the wandering fingers along his sides and chest must weaken him like his lines affect you.

“That’s a good thing,” he answers, closer than ever when he balances his weight on his arms now, forearms touching the carpet. “I’d rather laugh than fight.”

But the closeness remains for mere seconds before he pulls back again, sitting up with a groan. Hands on his thighs, he lets himself fall on bended knees. He watches your still helpless body on the floor until you work on getting off the carpet, letting him pull you up when he offers a hand.

You ruffle through your hair, legs folding. Your pout is more directed towards yourself than anyone else; you totally realise you didn’t need to confuse him the way you did. Stupid period.

“Listen, I just…” you start, scraping your scalp.

His knees bump against your legs when he drifts closer; there’s something about the two of you sitting on your living room carpet like this.

“It’s just that I want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

And that’s it. That’s literally it.

He halts. His hand was moving up, probably to touch your face, your hair, anything soft to ease the mood. But he cancels the tender gesture, fingers falling back to his knee when he absorbs your words.

Silences with cocked eyebrows. Processes the way you lick your lips and look away, tugging at his wide shirt. And then, once he’s understood, he tsks. Chuckles.

And you, immediately on guard, push lightly against his shoulder, unsurprised when he doesn’t buckle, and defend, “Told you you’d laugh!”

“No, but,” he says, sweet crinkles around his eyes, head tilting and bunny teeth giving way to the prettiest smile in existence, “what are you talking about, hm?”

He knows. If only his feigned innocence was as sweet as his grin, too.

Still, you opt to clarify, “That thing you did yesterday.”

“What thing?”

Ugh.

“The whole modelling thing!” you exclaim, raising your hands. His beam reaches up to his eyes; his occasional giggles are killing you. “Stop. Do you have any clue what you looked like?”

He has the audacity to shrug. “They let me see the pics on their cameras. They’ll come out well.”

“Well? Dude, you looked…”

“What?”

“Dangerous. Like you could eat me up.”

Eat me up might be accurate. It’s the description floating through your little mind since yesterday.

“Ah,” he says, nodding smugly. You know he’s about to tease you. Because— “You specifically, yeah? I was just doing what they told me to.”

“What, is me specifically wrong? Anyone else you’d wanna eat up or—”

“You’re really fixating on that, huh?” Jungkook snickers. His tongue pokes the inside of his right cheek in a brief pause, and then he adds, “You’ve got a point. Didn’t think it’d affect you, though.”

Slowly, but surely, he seems to grasp his own power over you. You think he’s reminiscing about yesterday’s chaos and confidence; maybe even viewing it all from your point of view.

Because his smirk, albeit subtle, is sly when he asks, “What was it like?”

“I…” You click your tongue. “You’ll take me apart if I tell you.”

“Why so?”

“Because.” A beat of silence. You swallow to wet your throat. Then. “I’d ask you to.”

“Ah…” Another understanding nod, as though you’re lecturing him on NASA’s rocket science and he’s finally grasping its meaning. “Yeah?”

“I saw you from afar,” you point into a direction arbitrarily, as if he’s still several feet from you and not mere inches, “and I wanted to,” you inhale when a finger reaches out, straight to a vein in your neck, gentle, exploring, “let you do anything with me that you wanted to.”

“Ohh.” His palm covers your neck, as if he’s coddling you. But you know what that touch will morph into, so you sneak closer to him, lean forwards. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“…Right.”

His thumb moves up and rubs under your jaw, then up your face and to your lower lip. The touch is soft and careful, as though gauging your reaction and searching for permission.

Your shaky, little exhale is nearly unnoticeable, but you know he catches it, and you know he already sees the consent in your eyes. But he still doesn’t lean in. Moves his eyes across your face, to his hand, to your neck and then all the way back to your gaze.

And then, contrasting the loving movements and affectionate gesture, he smiles. Mischief spreads in his stare, and his fingers retreat to the back of your neck, pulling you closer by a miniscule inch.

“So that’s what it was all this time? You’re on your knees for me, is that it?”

“Babe…” You look down, daring a joke. “Quite literally.”

You shuffle in your spot when he laughs quietly, hooking your fingers into the neckline of his shirt. You emphasise, “I mean it. Just… If you must know? I would’ve been okay with handing you all the control, okay? All of it.”

You’re aware you’re acting as though he doesn’t wreck your shit every other time, too. In fact, that’s probably how the two of you started out.

His absolute craze at the frat party, drunk. College nights when you’d confront him about your bullshit — weak excuses to make him press you against his dorm walls. A hand clapped over your mouth, your ass out, dick buried inside until you felt him in your guts—

You’ve always been at his mercy — but you want him to split you in half this time.

“You would’ve?” he repeats. “And now? Still want that?”

You look down again. There’s no shyness in that movement, no averting his beastly eyes — your focus lies elsewhere because you have a theory. Which proves true.

The swelling under his joggers, right there between his legs wasn’t there before.

So you gather your voice, and say, “…Yes.”

“Hmm. Why didn’t you tell me?” His fingernails dig lightly into your skin, and right in the middle of the tension, he pouts for a little moment. “I genuinely thought you were still pissed.”

“I was on my period…” You shrug your shoulders. “It was also late. I was so tired, and—”

He waits.

“I knew that you’d do it if I asked for it.”

“I would’ve.” What’s worse? The confirmation or the tickling breath against your cheek? When did he get so close? “I still would. If you want me to.”

“I just said yes,” you tug at the shirt, eliciting an amused grin as the tips of your noses collide, “you’ll keep asking and,” your heart beats at a million miles a minute, “just not kiss me, is that it?”

Your provocation proves effective just the right amount.

Because he opens his mouth, seemingly snarling — you can’t tell for sure, since his lips clash against yours within half a moment. Determined as his hand immediately flashes to the small of your back, supporting you before you fall backwards on the carpet.

And then he kisses you like a man starved. Like he’s run out of saliva, dehydrated. Seeks your tongue, tastes like earthy Matcha Latte and something you can’t quite define — something that’s so uniquely him.

Your kiss muffles his tiny sound, a mixture of a sigh and a moan, body impatient as he tries to push closer to you, though separated by your clashing knees. You understand — you, too, would let him smother you under his weight if you could.

So you pull your folded legs apart, shifting until they surround him and attempting to straddle him. But he’s plotting something else: his fingers hold your jaw, keeping you in place, and the hot, wet kiss breaks when he pulls away.

You catch a brief glimpse of glistening lips before he moves to trail down your body, leaning in to teeth at your shirt, pushing it off your shoulder and kissing your skin for a fleeting second. And when the shirt shifts back into position, his other hand works on your tits.

Grabs your shirt at its hem, lifting it over your mounds until they’re free, nipples perked, home to him. In a haze, the tip of his tongue touches the right nub, and you shiver.

More so when he whispers, “Am so hard for you, I’ll fucking combust.”

For you.

You’ll repent for how badly you want him in your mouth.

You caress his thigh, sneaking up until you reach the swelling under the fabric. You feel it immediately, firm as a rock, big and fat, so sensitive that he hisses once you touch it.

“No,” he commands, the word barely a breath, “no, no. Don’t or I’ll come like this.”

He says it against your neck. Warm and tickling. You feel goosebumps arise, your reactions slow, but your heart fast. His fingers engulf your wrist, leading your palm to his cheek; you feel the smileless dimple under your thumb when he darts out his tongue to wet his lips.

Then, you close your eyes; the pecks against your neck are exhilarating. The moving touch, down to your tits and then back up to your jaw is one of his favourite games; you move your hips against the carpet, soaked panties sticking against your pussy.

“You’re…” you start, fingers in his fluffy hair as he bites your nipple. You moan, your words shaky, “You’re— more into this today.”

“I mean… after everything you just said to me?” He chuckles, moving up, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His mouth brushes yours.

“And I missed her.” Free hand between your thighs, he taps just over your clit; your lips part. “Too crude to say I can’t wait for her to swallow my cock?”

Well. Fuck.

If it wasn’t him, you’d cringe. But it is him, and the truth is that you’re dying for him to press himself onto you. To wrap himself around you, to wrap yourself around him.

You want him to cut you in half, want to be his little toy until you can barely stand.

“Maybe,” you tell him, “but I promise that she wants it, too.”

That’s it, that’s it.

It’s when teeth meet again, the kiss messy, your arms around his neck. He holds you by your waist, pulling you off the floor a little, readjusting his position, so you can climb onto him.

You tilt your head as far as you can, taking him in, drooling, lips and tongue moving wildly to taste all of him. His digits wander from your back to your ass, pushing between your cheeks and pressing against your clenching hole.

The gesture is short lived, but enough for you to rub against him. The urge to rip your panties and part your folds over his girth is profuse; to dampen his length and empty his balls just like this.

But he clenches his jaw, groaning. Halts your movement with a strong grip before pulling at your hair without breaking the kiss. You move your fingers up and down his arm, and then dash it upwards to bury them in his locks, too.

Only, instead of reaching his mane, your hand hits the glass table on your left; you grunt into the kiss and then move away to exclaim, “Ah, fuck.”

Jungkook must’ve heard the sound because he catches on right away, laughing. Gently, he pushes you off his lap, gets back on his knees and then up. He pulls you with him as he says, “Alright. Get on the couch before you hurt yourself.”

“Couch?”

You’re surprised; not the bed this time, is it?

Then again — Jungkook isn’t necessarily picky when it comes to this; cue flashback to bathroom adventures.

So you still listen. Wobbly legs drag you to the sofa, plumping onto it as you watch him follow. The bulge is huge, hotter than hellfire when he palms it and lets go again.

“Too damn lazy to get to the bedroom,” he declares before dropping back on his knees.

You thought he’d climb over you, push you back across the length of the couch. But instead, he seems satisfied with your helpless position, pushing back the carpet and table some to take a seat right in front of you.

You admire his patience — the outline of his cock presses against its confines. Does it not hurt? His expression doesn’t reveal any discomfort as he adjusts against the hard floor; the carpet barely provides any relief.

But the discomfort doesn’t redirect his focus, his touch heading towards you, urging you to remove your joggers at turtle’s pace. He throws them over his shoulder and onto the table, one leg of them dangling off of it.

Left in your panties, you watch his hands curl under your knees, freeing his way to where you want to ache. Lifts your legs, places them on his shoulders carefully, amused and delighted when your bent limbs drag him closer to your cunt.

His tenacious tongue peeks between his teeth, and he fondles your thighs before he reaches the hem of your panties. They bug him — separate your heat from his mouth; in this moment, a crime to him.

“Help me here real quick,” he whispers, and you raise your ass, letting him drag the underwear off of you.

It sticks to your pussy for a second, obscenely flooded with your gradually building arousal. You think he sees, because he halts for a second, eyes flitting up to you before he says, “I think this’ll be fun.”

“You promise?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Well…

You shrug your shoulders, but smile tellingly, eliciting a smirk that decorates his gorgeous face, closing in bit by bit. The cool air evaporates the nearer he draws, replaced by his hot breath.

And then… just to test…

He darts out his tongue, the sharp tip of it tickling your clit. Your reaction, much desired, stirs a new type of appetite in him. Because your chin trembles just once, just for a moment. Lashes flutter, and his heart skips a beat.

As he inhales, but never exhales, you question, “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures, blowing against your sex, “just. So very pretty.”

You look down at him. His shoulders look broader from here. Muscular, hair dark and silky. His lips are colourful, handsome, nose ready to bury in your pelvis. If he thinks you’re pretty, then he’s the definition of true aesthetic.

Slowly, you reach for his hair, brushing through it before you bring his head closer to you, hinting at the obvious, and say, “And you.”

“Not like you, though…”

He waits, allowing the both of you a moment of preparation.

And then… he’s kissing your pussy. Lightly at first, up and down, a hand on your inner thigh that moves closer and closer to your folds.

He sighs once before a digit parts your nether lips sticking together, and then licks a stripe between them. You whine quietly; his eyes close. He’s beautiful like this; in a minute, he’ll look at you again, mouth swollen, and you’ll wish for his touch to last and last and last…

“Please,” you only whisper, but he doesn’t answer.

Instead, his sweet kisses turn into something more. Way more wetness, way more tongue. And before you know it, he’s splitting your legs wider, pushing in to start devouring you.

Your moans are intoxicating. They’re sudden, but not surprising, voiced against the ceiling when your head falls back. The heels of your feet dig into his back, pushing him closer when his knees are already touching the couch.

The movements of his mouth are warm, a waterfall. He eats you out until he’s slurping, drenching you further. He’ll slide in effortlessly, you already know. Will bury every single inch of himself inside you, fill you up for the rest of the day.

And your high — it builds up embarrassingly fast. Perhaps because it’s been a while; or maybe because it’s Jeon Jungkook you’re dealing with. Either way, your lower stomach aches, the knot pressing against your guts.

“Kookie,” you murmur, yet again left without an answer.

He knows not to break his focus this time; knows that you’re close, recognises it in your grip around the patch of his hair. Hears it in your desperate whimpers, louder by the second. Words more unintelligible now.

Your thigh is twitching every now and then, quivering, and he takes it as a sign to keep sucking and swirling. Then flicks his wet muscle over your engorged clit, adding to your exclaims when his nimble fingers glide into you swiftly.

Too swiftly. Two of them are barely enough; and he adds a third. Your cheeks heat up, body sliding down — partly because you’re dying inside, partly because he’s pulling you towards him.

Jungkook knows how to navigate your body, how to direct you towards a rationality-breaking explosion. And he does. He does with the plethora of lustful licks, softly circling around your clit. His nose presses against it every time he shifts downwards, tasting you thoroughly.

“I’m almost—” you voice, and he hums, vibrations torture.

It’s a game to him that he’s skilled at; he understands his moves, and he never loses. Neither today as he clamps his hand onto your waist, fingers pumping in and out of you, curling and digging, massaging your favourite spot.

They turn and twist, two fingers of his free hand settling around your clit and raising it for better access.

It takes probably half a minute longer… and then… then…

Your voice grows in pitch, nearly illegal for a Sunday afternoon, but music to his ears. So genuine and sweet. Corners of your eyes glistening. He holds your legs apart as you start begging, but all he truly makes out is the eager repetition of his name.

He wishes your shirt didn’t cover your upper body; wishes he could see the heaving of your chest, the perked nipples, the sweat on your clavicles.

But for now, this is enough.

The way he sees waves of pleasure wash over you, eyes rolled back, not looking at him anymore. Your lips are dry, your tongue probably, too, and he wants to kiss it wet again.

You moan and wince and keen, body restless. The tug of his hair becomes more prominent and palpable, but the sensation makes him smile. You’re probably barely noticing, too.

That is, until your hold and breathing finally calm down. You keep riding the wave, your head turning in odd circle-ish shapes. He kisses your pussy, helping you through it, only stopping when you open your eyes.

“Well, that was…” he says, lips as swollen as you anticipated, shimmering, “a good start.”

“Every single time,” you begin, panting, shaking your head. You watch him as he gets on his feet, moving in to your mouth. “Every single time I think it can’t get better, and then I remember it’s just the fucking beginning.”

He shifts to you slowly, grazing your lips, and declares with a soft smile, “More to come, I promise. Gonna have so much fun with you.”

“Do your worst—”

One more kiss. Shorter this time, but you recognise the familiar, lingering taste immediately. Neutral, not too bad. Fills you with pride, because he never fails to guarantee that he loves it.

But you can’t wallow in it because he retreats quickly, impatient hands freeing his golden body from his clothes. The shirt falls somewhere next to the carpet, his own joggers soon discarded, landing on top of yours and sliding to the ground together.

He’s a menace when he climbs onto the couch, knees digging in and creating a shift on each side of your body. His bulge, still hidden behind his boxers, floats in front of your face; from this close, you see the droplet of precum darken a spot of the light purple cotton.

“Next stage?” he wonders above you, stroking your hair gently, as if he’s not about to explore the back of your throat. “Want or do I rather not?”

“What do you mean with not?” Your breathing is heavy as you lift your palm and engulf the imprint of his dick. He flinches, hips moving back a bit before they come back. “Get this shit off.”

He chuckles. Brings his hand to your cheek, thumb caressing it and voice clear when he says, “You’re so cute. Being demanding and all.”

But he still listens. Gets off the couch, slides his underwear off, leaves you gaping.

Gaping at the hooked and girthy tower. Gaping at how the slit on top of his head glimmers. Gaping at the moles along the stiff length, staring at the thick veins, at the full, firm balls.

“Tongue out,” he orders; you do.

The ink-free hand pushes his dick down to you, tapping it against your tongue as you open up wide. He feels heavy, hot, the skin smooth. Your head moves forward to swallow more, but he pulls back.

Strokes himself for a couple seconds, thumb spreading the precum over his head. You drool. Watch attentively, as though you’re learning — until he eventually guides it back to you and positions it into your still gaping mouth.

Enters it slowly. Slightly salty. Then says, “Breathe. And don’t overthink it too much.”

Huh.

Well. Damn.

Because…

At times, you do worry about your expressions; about your tears when you gag around him, the coughing fits you get in the middle of it all. So that’s a surprise. Attentive. 

But your mind is blank today anyway; so you nod, moving to lick the underside of the tip, and he laughs, mumbling, “Alright. Have it, babe.”

And you do.

Slowly at first, cautious as you twirl your tongue around him. You don’t notice much discomfort just yet, thankful that he’s easing you into this. A third of his length buried inside, you close your lips around him and hollow your cheeks.

Which is probably when the invisible threads holding him back finally break.

“Okay,” he says, “you got this.”

His knees move in, more inches intruding. His fingers drift to the back of your head, and you dig yours in his brawny thighs. He grows harder in your mouth, impossibly bigger the more you drag your lips along his member.

How gratifying. You’ve craved this for hours and days. What was your argument about again?

Your head drops further back when he shoves himself inside, more and more as time passes. You imitate his prior advances — hum and close your eyes. Bring a hand to the base of his cock, pumping all that you won’t be choking around.

When you gaze up at him to analyse his reactions, he leaves your mind vacant. Because his head is raised, like yours, jawline edged and acute. Mouth open until he meets your eyes.

You hope he’s seeing something just as lascivious and mind-numbing from his perspective. Maybe messy hair, laying against the softness of your shirt. Or a cock appearing out of and disappearing behind pretty lips.

Slowly blinking eyes that shut just as slowly again, and a tongue that falls out and licks along a vein whenever your head moves to the side. Allowing you a couple deep breaths.

He must be perceiving it all, too.

Because a moment later, he gnarls, like a wild animal, and states, “This won’t do—”

—Before putting both hands under your ears, holding your head and…

Ramming his cock into your mouth.

You gasp around him, taken aback and delighted at once. Feel the effect between your legs, hoping to not defile the couch too much.

Head still thrown back, falling further, you already feel the ache in the back of your neck. Your attempts of holding onto the couch prove futile because there is nothing to hold onto, armrests too far away; so you return to his thighs.

But he keeps your body steady, held at the spot between his legs. Your head is a different story: it bounces back and forth, the exhales through your nose frantic as he pounds into your throat before he slows down again.

“Good, gooood,” he drags out, observing the glistening veins as he draws back to his tip and then moves in again. “Doing very, very well. Looks so gorgeous, baby.”

You don’t know what he’s talking about — about you, his cock, the position. Everything? 

He keeps up the gentler pace, allowing you a break. Allowing himself the pleasure of this very image. Pretty lips surrounding a pretty dick.

And perhaps your desperate, little moans, accompanied by rapid blinking, set a fuse loose in his brain.

Because a moment later, Jungkook dares a step further — cock already stuffing your entire mouth, he pushes in more. The fat monstrosity reaches far, your gag reflex not as much at bay anymore as before.

The view seems to spur him on, though, and you can imagine why. If you were him, you’d probably enjoy the drooling mess under him, too. Salivating all over his dick, you feel the gross drop of your spit land on your clavicle, throat constricting as he thrusts in.

And just when you’re about to tap his thighs — very reluctantly, too — to catch your breath, he pulls back, fingers immediately digging into your cheeks to straighten your neck and head. You cough, eyes teary, your breathing quick and uncontrolled.

Like a toy, he moves your head to the left, to the right, a sly smirk playing around his lips until he moves down to you, back arched. Amidst your panting, he presses a brief kiss to your mouth, slippery against the dampness.

And then he says, as casually as he shouldn’t, “You’d look so beautiful in leashes.”

“…What?”

But he ignores your mumbled inquiry, instead thumbing at your lower lip. His dark eyes flit from one facial feature to another, pink lip caught between his teeth. The firm chest rises dangerously when he breathes in.

“Should I come in your mouth?” he asks as if you’d ever say no; as if you don’t know that he’s asking because he won’t. “Huh? Shoot it all the way down your throat?”

“Do it, fucking coward.”

…And just like that, he moves back.

tumblr is cruel and the 1k block limit in the new editor won't let me post the entire thing at once lol so here's the rest in a reblog!!! <3

[livwritessometimes]

Call It What You Want

: Mason Mount x singer!reader

: All the chaos outside doesn’t matter when Y/n and Mason have each other

: Prev

: Begin Again Series

: Main Masterlist

: Author’s Note - Finalyyy done with Begin Again Series!!! This was the first spin-off series I’ve ever written and I enjoyed it smmm 💕 I hope you guys did too 🫶🏻

…

liked by masonmount and 95,728 others

👤: masonmount

Yourname: In between the break 🐋

view all 80,628 comments

kellypiquet: Pretty Pretty Pretty 🦋

*liked by Yourname*

masonmount: The best downtime I’ve ever had!

→ Yourname: 🩵🩵

User09: Boring 🥱 get over yourself #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #freemason

-> User76: #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #freemason

User08: Can you post something else besides Mason??? This is exactly what happened when you were with Lando!!! #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #freemason

-> User12: OMGG WAIT!! You’re right! Her entire feed was filled with Lando pics when they were together #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #freemason

-> User88: You guys are such hypocrites! When she was posting about Lando y’all were very happy and thankful and now this annoys you 🙄 #leaveynalone

-> User09: Just shut up #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #freemason

liked by User84 and 59,727 others

👤: magui_corceiro, Yourname

It seems as though drama never leaves Margarida Corceiro and Y/n L/n alone. Corceiro, a Portuguese model and actress, and the girlfriend of F1 driver Lando Norris, recently came forward in an interview talking about the bullying she has faced from L/n, who happens to be Norris' ex. This comes as a shock to many because L/n didn't seem like the person to do something so horrifying. Corceiro has also gone ahead and said how she involved Joao Felix, Corceiro's ex, into the situation to target her. Since then, Felix's team has denied these allegations. L/n, on the other hand, is yet to comment on this situation.

What do you guys think? Were you guys also surprised by these allegations, or did you guys suspect L/n's sinister behavior beforehand?

view all 37,618 comments

User66: Ofc Y/n did this. I always knew that there was something fishy about her. #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

User32: There is no way Y/n did anything Magui claims that she has!!! I just know it

-> User40: How tho?? Magui is fully confessing to the trauma she has faced because of Y/n. Get a hold of reality my dude! #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

User09: #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

User44: #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

User22: #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

User86: #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

liked by User84 and 196,518 others

👤: Yourname, masonmount

CelebGossip: Y/n L/n just can't seem to catch a break! Soon after the bullying allegations against her by Margarida Corceiro, L/n is now, part of yet another scandal. This time however, it involves her football superstar boyfriend, Mason Mount.

There has been an online petition going on for the two to call it quits. According to the person who started the petition, the purpose of it is to 'free Mount' from L/n.

Have the fans gone too far? Or is this exactly what L/n deserves? Stay tuned for more updates!

view all 79,617 comments

User31: wtf are you fr? why are people creating petitions for this shit?

-> User66: Well you should be more concerned for the things she has done! #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

User09: She 100% deserves this!! #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

User44: Yesss gotta save mason! we can't have him associate with someone like her 😒 #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

User21: #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

User06: #ynisoverparty #maguiwasright #maguiweloveyou #ynhateparty

liked by User84 and 79,627 others

👤: Yourname

Y/nOfficialFanpage: Drama, drama, and more drama! Amidst all the Y/n L/n and Margarida Corceiro drama, some of the top brands have decided to cut ties with L/n as their brand ambassador.

With the recent bullying allegations, L/n's reputation has taken a massive hit, and brands are likely reevaluating their partnerships.

Now the question remains: is this a temporary setback, or could it have long-lasting impact for L/n's career? Only time will tell.

view all 65,721 comments

User99: NOOOO whyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

User48: Y/n doesn't deserve this! I said it now and I'll say it again. We don't even know if these rumors are true or not and for brands to solely act on rumors actually tells you a lot about the brand!!

-> User03: Yess!!! Say it a lil louder for the people in the back 👏🏻👏🏻

liked by User84 and 108,628 others

👤: masonmount, Yourname

FootballUpdates: Has the magic faded between Y/n L/n and Mason Mount? It's been almost a year since we've seen the couple together, and this has left people questioning the status of their relationship. Could the recent allegations surrounding L/n have finally led to the couple calling it quits? Or are they simply keeping their personal lives out of the public eye?

view all 97,415 comments

User07: I really hope that they are still together!!!

User55: NOOO! If they break up, I'll stop believing in love 💔

User70: I hope it's true!!!! The petition finally workedddd!!!!

liked by masonmount and 289,516 others

Yourname: Nobody's heard from me for months 🖤

*limited comments*

view all 107,574 comments

kellypiquet: Prettiest Girl Ever!!!

*liked by Yourname*

masonmount: 🖤

-> Yourname: 🖤

liked by User84 and 79,627 others

👤: Yourname

CelebGossip: After nearly two years of staying out of the spotlight Y/n L/n is finally back....or is she?? This is yet to be determined!

But what we can say for certain is that L/n attended her boyfriend Mason Mount's match and her best friend, Max Verstappen's race.

While many fans expressed their excitement to see her again, some remain cautious given the past controversies.

view all 67,082 comments

User27: Yayyyyy queen is back!!!

User93: I have never been this happy ever!!! MOTHER!!!

User33: WHY???? Why is she back????

liked by masonmount and 386,919 others

👤: masonmount, kellypiquet, maxverstappen, joaofelix79

Yourname: I'm doing better than I ever was ❤️‍🩹

*limited comments*

view all 210,671 comments

kellypiquet: We're so back!!!!

*liked by Yourname*

maxverstappen: Finallyyy you posted a nice photo of me!!!

-> Yourname: Don't be too happy, it was only this one time!

joaofelix79: Wow! It's okay. I take your photos and you don't even post a photo of me. I see how it is!

-> Yourname: awwww so sad 😫

-> joaofelix79: 😒😒

liked by masonmount and 172,618 others

👤: masonmount

Yourname: Nothing has made sense for me in the past 2 years. Nothing except for you, Mason. I try to imagine what my life would have been without you by my side, and the mere thought gives me anxiety. I couldn't have imagined spending the darkest of times without you by my side. 

I know I make the same mistakes every time and that I never learn from them, but I know in my heart that I did one thing right. And that is to have you in my life. 

Your love has done nothing but inspire me to become a better person! It is also the inspiration behind my latest single, Call It What You Want! Out tonight!

view all 106,728 comments

masonmount: Loving you has been the best decision of my life! One i hope to make for the rest of my life ❤

*liked by Yourname*

User21: If this is what true love feels like, I can't WAIT to fall in love!!

User04: I am so sorry you had to go through all the hate Y/n. You and Mason deserve nothing but the absolute best!!

liked by masonmount and 289,551 others

👤: Yourname

masonmount: Because I really know her 💍

*limited comments*

view all 201,678 comments

kellypiquet: CONGRATULATIONSSS!!!!

maxverstappen: I'm so happy for you both ❤

joaofelix79: Finallyyy!!!I was dying keeping this secret!! I'm so happy for you two 💕

liked by User84 and 96,921 others

👤: magui_corceiro, landonorris

CelebGossip: Lando Norris and Margarida Corceiro have reportedly called it quits. According to close sources to Norris, the drama between Corceiro and Y/n L/n played a significant role in the couple's decision to part ways. We still don't have any official statements from either of the parties involved, so stay tuned to know more!

view all 72,671 comments

User32: Ughhh why is Y/n still ruining things for Magui. Like hasn't she suffered enough!!!!

liked by User84 and 113,882 others

👤: magui_corceiro, Yourname

Lando Norris and Margarida Corceiro have reportedly called it quits. According to close sources to Norris, the drama between Corceiro and Y/n L/n played a significant role in the couple's decision to part ways. We still don't have any official statements from either of the parties involved, so stay tuned to know more!

In a shocking turn of events, it has been revealed that Margarida Corceiro made up all the bullying allegations against Y/n L/n. 

According to an ex-staff member of Corceiro's team, Corceiro has been jealous of L/n and wanted to do anything to take her down. This revolution has caused a massive outrage by fans of both L/n and Mason Mount, L/n's fiancé. 

Several fans demand a public apology from Corceiro and the fans that made life a living hell for the couple for almost a period of two years. Many brands that dropped L/n during this drama are now facing repercussions for their actions. With several brands being boycotted, fans have demanded for them to issue a public apology to L/n. 

What is your opinion on this situation? Comment down below!

view all 87,616 comments

User32: I KNEW IT!!!! I KNEW THAT Y/N COULD NEVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT!!

User55: All I'm saying is, all the haters that were quick to call out Y/n better do the same to Magui!!

liked by masonmount and 481,691 others

👤: masonmount

Yourname: Ladies and gentleman will you please stand! With every guitar string scar on my hand, I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover 💕

view all 321,899 comments

masonmount: My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue! All's well that ends well to end up with you!

*liked by Yourname*

kellypiquet: I didn't think I could cry more than I already have and yet here I am bawling my eyes out again ❤

*liked by Yourname*

maxverstappen: Your truly make the most beautiful bride! I could not have been more proud to walk you down the aisle 💙

-> Yourname: I love you to Maxie!!

-> User42: Max walked her down the aisle you guysssss 🥺🥺🥺

joaofelix79: Congratulations you guys!! Now you better get to work, I am ready to become an uncle now 👶🏻

-> User11: Not joao saying that- 😭😭😭

…

Tags: @jobesbabe | @fifantasys | @evans-dejong | @msliz | @lokideservesahug | @jpg3 | @jxnellat | @spoodergirl | @themirrorballgal | @sarah-thatstings-ann | @newlifeforus | @eiaaasantha | @hotgirlslikemax | @2pagenumb | @wobblymug | @lunamelona | @boredmadamoiselle | @reidsworld | @avni-sarai | @evasmlp | @saachiep81 | @prettypink11 | @larastark3107 | @bowielovesyou | @dilflover44 | @obi-wansgirl | @ln8118 |

[morikotto]

i see the 'i'm not like other girls, i'm quirky and weird and edgy' attitude is getting popular again

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer. 

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles. 

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart. 

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

:D

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

[madamechrissy]

Your series is on toppp, i was always waiting for your new post especially that gojo series lmao. Anyways, can we get a gojo x innocent!reader?? Make them likee childhood friend and gojo takes her virginity lolll.

Thank you sm love, I hope you enjoy it <3 You know I've never given Gojo a virgin in anything, it's his first time for me lmaooo! 🩷🩷🩷

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x virgin reader

Contents/warnings: cute fluff, friends to lovers, first time/loss of virginity, oral sex (M and F receiving), explicit sex, pet names, not much plot lol, just smut fr

Word Count:: 3.7k

🩷 First Time 🩷

You are sitting next to Satoru on his couch as you all watch one of his silly movies. He has laid out a million snacks and treats for the night, including bowls full of Halloween candy from yesterday. Yes, Satoru was twenty two and yes, he still went trick or treating, you’d been dragged along with him all night last night, running from house to house.

Your feet still hurt, you’re wincing and rubbing them, and Satoru looks over at you with his stupidly pretty eyes, eyes you should be used to after being friends for ten years, but sometimes they… well they did things. Satoru seems to be clueless at his effects on you, how when he tickles you, you gasp, how when he pulls you against him, you sigh and inhale his scent.

You’re pretty bad at hiding it.

Suguru and Shoko make fun of you endlessly, but you are just too afraid to ruin your friendship. But then, you’ve also non stop turned down men, left and right, pining away for him. It certainly was not the best way to go about things, but you’re holding out for him to be your first. Even though it’s foolish to think it will happen, you can’t help but wait for him.

Satoru was not dating anyone, he really had not dated much since high school, he would have a fling here and there, but mostly he spent time working and then with his friends. With you.

“Feet hurting? Bring ‘em to Daddy.” He teases with a smirk, and you giggle, rolling your eyes.

“Oh gosh, Satoru. You really gonna rub ‘em?”

“Sure am, it’s my fault they hurt. C’mere.” You lean back on the couch and prop your feet up on his lap, as his long fingers press into the soles of your feet, you moan a bit, and he pauses, looking at you.

“Sorry.” You say, flustered and overheated, and Satoru looks back at the movie, his tall, lithe body leaning back against the cushions.

“No need to say sorry, it feels good hmm?” He teases, as you try to focus on the movie, but he’s pressing his fingers deeper, and massaging your feet so good your eyes flutter shut.

“Very good, oof thank you.” You say softly, going to pull them back a bit, but Satoru now has raised his massage to your ankles. You gasp. “That tickles!”

“Does it? You’re so ticklish.” He’s running little circles on your ankles then, and your thighs shift as his hands slip even higher, to your calves.

“That feels… really good, mmm.” You whisper, wishing it meant less to you, wishing you did not treasure and drink in every bit of your best friend. His shiny white hair, his perfect straight nose, model cheekbones and pouty lips. Satoru Gojo was the prettiest man you’ve ever seen, but it’s more than that.

His little smirk and how his snowy lashes lower over his eyes, his laugh when he’s being silly, how his body looks in that black skin tight gym shirt, his biceps curling as he’s gently brushing your legs. You bite your lower lip then, as he’s still watching the movie, his touches lighter, little caresses down your legs.

“You have nice legs.” You sputter then, mouth wide, and he peeks at you, a little blush on his cheeks. “What you do.”

“Um… what? I do?” He looks down at your thighs now, and when his huge hands cover them, you can’t stop the little whimper, drawing his attention to you.

“You doing alright over there?” He asks then, raising a brow, and you cover your face now.

“I have to say something.” You shift your legs down, and Satoru pouts.

“I was having fun playing with them, meanie.”

“Satoru…” You lean forward on the couch, touching his shoulders gently. “I really have to tell you something.”

“Go on then, silly girl.” He taps your nose with a little smile. You take a deep breath, looking into his swirling blue eyes then.

“I want you to be my first.”

“What!?” He’s sputtering now, and jumps up, and then you jump up, turning away and covering your face.

“I’m so stupid, of course you wouldn’t. You’re Satoru Gojo, you can have anyone. And you’re experienced. And-”

“Hey, hey.” Satoru’s hands are on your shoulders behind you now, and you tense a bit at the touch, heart racing. “You’re prettier than anyone I’ve been with, it’s not anything like that.”

“Shit, really? You think I’m pretty?” You whisper, looking back at him, and he exhales, hands squeezing a bit, nodding.

“Of course you are, silly. I tell you that you look cute all the time, do I not?”

“Cute. Not pretty.”

“Well, you’re cute and pretty. And… you’re a virgin?” He turns you to him then, and you nod shyly, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Why me the first time, why not a boyfriend?”

You sigh then, fiddling with your hands in front of yourself. “You’re who I want it with. We can stay friends, it doesn’t have to like ruin it, you don’t have to date me.”

He blinks his white lashes then, tilting his head. “Why wouldn’t I wanna date you?”

“Because we’re friends!”

“And I like you, a lot. I always have. I thought… Well, I thought you didn’t like me like that.”

“What!?” It’s your turn now, and he smirks a bit.

“Well, I’m half naked in front of you constantly, and I barely see you check me out.”

“I do! But I look away when you look at me. You don’t check me out!”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes dart down your body now, and it’s as if he’s touching you, as he looms over you, so tall, so sexy. “I look away when you look at me. Now, you really want a first time, you have to be my girlfriend, I’m no hussy.” He states, putting his hand to his chest, and you laugh then.

“I can absolutely do that. How do we seal this boyfriend/girlfriend status then? A selfie? A pinky swear?” You step closer, trailing a hand up his chest now.

“Mmm, all of the above. But first, this.” Satoru leans down now, kissing you for the first time, his soft, plump lips pressing on yours, and you gasp at it, before kissing him back, putting pressure on his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck, on your tip toes. Satoru moans softly, pulling back, his hands on your waist, then his eyes lock onto yours.

“Toru… that’s perfect.” You murmur softly, as you still feel the tingles of your lips, then you realize you have a tear sliding down your cheek. Satoru swipes it away gently, tilting up your chin and bending down, lips against your ear.

“I wanna have you cumming so hard you scream my name, pretty tears falling out of those pretty eyes.” Your body reacts viscerally, your nipples pressed against the little tank top you’re wearing, as he nips your ear then, sending shivers down your spine at the sensation.

“Please.” Satoru’s kissing down your neck now, hands on your hips, feeling your every curve, your hands enwrap in his silky hair, gasping when he picks you up in his arms like it’s nothing.

“Anything you want, pretty girl.” You melt at his words, as he carries you to his bedroom, laying you down and sliding up your tank then, revealing your breasts, he exhales as he sees them, nostrils flaring. “Holy… they’re so fucking pretty.”

“You like them?” You ask shyly, and he nods eagerly.

“Take it off, please, be a good girl for me.” You’re dripping wet already, as you lean up and pull the top over your head, your tits bouncing gently. He’s gripping them in his big hands then, squishing them and running his thumbs over your nipples, your back arches. “Tell me what you like, don’t hold back, I want to learn all of you.”

“That feels good, it feels so good.” You say softly, and he then kisses down to each peak, sucking them into his hot mouth. “S’good, mmm!”

He hums a bit, his big hand sliding down your tummy, making it tremble, as he finds your shorts, pulling them down. “So, do you masturbate Miss Virgin?”

“Jerk, ugh. Of course I do, ah!” He’s kissing and nipping on your rib cage now, looking at you with his eyes dilated, pupils so big there’s just a ring of that brilliant blue now.

“Show me what you do, then I’ll know where you like to be touched most.” He’s taking your hand now, grinning with those white teeth. “Aw, ya blushing?”

“Well, y-yes. Um… I don’t finger myself, I just rub my clit.”

“Of course, those small little fingers, they can’t hit good.” He holds his fingers out, double your length, so long you clench around nothing imagining them, getting wetter when he presses your finger to your clit. “That’s it, pretty, show me.”

You rub your clit in circles, aching for him, as he stands up, taking off his shirt then, and you drink in his body hungrily, as he drinks in yours. “Fuck you’re gorgeous Satoru.”

“And you’re gorgeous, best friend. Girlfriend. Shnookums.”

“Shnookums!”

“Tossing cute names around.” He’s sliding his jeans off now, just in his dark blue boxers, then you see that outline, making you heat up even more with such strong desire. “Go ahead, keep going, you’re doing good.”

“Want you to touch me.” You whisper, as he sits back on the bed, the springs creaking under his weight, watching as your finger is playing between your lips, taking your hand gently and sucking on your finger then. “Oh!”

“Yummy. Need to taste you.” He says then, his voice husky, you are crying out when he rubs his fingers along your folds, down your slit, where wetness is pooling down to your entrance.

“Toru!” Your hips buck up when he runs circles on your clit, eyeing you carefully now.

“Have you had anything inside this pretty pussy at all?” He asks, sliding down to lay between your thighs now, his hands pressing into the plush of them as he spreads them wide. “So perfect.”

“No, I haven’t.” You admit, then gasp out when he slides one of his thick, long fingers inside you. “Ah… ah!”

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He pecks little kisses on your thighs, nipping as he studies you, pressing on a spot now that makes you see stars. “There it is.”

You’re falling apart as he pumps that long finger in, before stretching it to two, which is so hard to take, you can barely get to his first knuckles. “Toru, it’s too much… too much…”

“Aww you can take it, can’t you? Gotta stretch this tight little pussy for me, I’m a lot bigger than those fingers.” You can hear the squishing of your wetness as he kisses closer and closer, and you’re entangling your fingers in his hair, pressing against his scalp. “You’re so needy for me, aren’t you?”

You can’t speak then, when he kisses the hood of your clit, pulling the fingers out to part your folds gently. Your legs shake on either side of his head as he studies your pussy even more, moaning as he does. “Toru, um what are you doing?”

“Gonna eat you out, pretty girl. I can’t just have a treat like this and not eat it, don’t you know I have a sweet tooth?”

“Are you sure, I didn’t expect-”

“Oh this is my favorite. You’ll love it.” Satoru swipes his tongue up your slit then, and you’re moaning so loud it’s embarrassing, and he exhales, tickling you so good, his cool breath blowing on your overheated cunt. “Yummy.”

“Toru, fuck…”

“What a bad mouth, young lady.” He glares, and you laugh, breathless. “And you’re laughing, ah-ah.” He smacks your pussy, shocking you, but you like it, as you’re gushing more arousal out of your little hole. “Freaky little virgin.”

“Toru!”

“Stop talking back missy.” He smacks it again, and grins at your reaction. “Let me enjoy my treat, hmm?” You just nod, and he dives down now, sliding his tongue in and out of you in the most delicious tongue fuck. You’re already pulsing around him as he drinks you up, exploring you with his tongue, lips, teeth.

Your back arches, as he’s fucking you with it over and over, his teeth hitting your clit when he swipes up, finally swirling your clit in circles with the tip of his stupidly talented tongue. You can’t stand how good it feels, the pressure in your tummy, then you realize you’re going to cum, and cum so hard, you feel everything on fire, every nerve ending lit up.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum!” You pant out the words, and Satoru’s moaning against you, leaning up, half his face covered with you.

“Cum all over my face, let me drink you pretty.” He’s not goofy, silly Satoru, he’s some damn sex demon now, as he flicks his tongue once more, and you’re shattering for him, pulling him against you as you cum.

Satoru rides it out with you, continuing to flick his tongue so fast, sipping up the wetness out of your soppy cunt. You feel so good you’re blinded, eyes blinking rapidly to try to focus, to try to cling to this earth. He’s more serious now as he exhales, fingering you again, sliding two in with ease at how wet you are, hovering over you.

“Such a good girl, came that much for me? Wanna taste it?” He asks, and you nod nervously, then he’s kissing you, letting you taste your sweet arousal. Your hands slide down his hard abdomen, over the ripples of muscles and sinew, until you find his boxers, tugging. “Oh fuck, wanna touch me?”

“Yes, please.”

“I wasn’t sure your first time.” His care melts you, melts any worries you have away, but when he takes off his boxers and you see him, you panic.

“Oh that will never fit!” You watch him chuckle then, his soft hair falling over a brow as you touch it, your tiny hand not covering hardly any of it.

“It will fit, I promise.”

“Will it hurt?” You ask, brows together, stroking him, watching his eyes flutter shut, biting his lip.

“I haven’t been with a virgin. Um, I hear it hurts a bit, but you’re so wet and warmed up, I hope it won’t for long. I’ll go easy on you, the first time.”

“The first time!?”

“Then we’ll get freaky.” You giggle again, stroking him up and down.

“Can I suck you too?”

“You want to?” You nod and he exhales, getting on his knees then, gently positioning you on all fours. “Fuck it’s like my four pm nap.”

“Huh?”

“I nap after work, and you are always in some position. Some new one. Legs spread, ass in the air.” He wraps your hair up, pulling it gently into a ponytail, his pretty cock so thick and intimidating, twitching as you flick your tongue on the pink tip. “Oh fuck, that feels good.”

“What do you like?” You lap at the pearly liquid weeping from his tip, tonguing it and tasting it, sweet and a little salty, before sucking a couple inches in your mouth, earning his little whimper, so sexy it makes you impossibly wetter.

“Anything you wanna do, fuck. At your mercy here, the tip is the most sensitive. Can you take more?” Satoru’s voice is soft as he presses in further, and you’re moaning around him, nodding. “Good girl.”

“Mmm.” You’re sucking more of him then, as you look up, seeing his perfect form, that happy trail of white hair under that flat belly button, his hard body tensing as you stroke him where your mouth can’t reach.

“Okay, too much, I want to last for you. Mmm.” He pulls you off gently now, pushing you back to lay down, settling between your thighs, fingering you with his two fingers again. “Are you sure about this? We can wait.”

“I want this, I really do. I have for so- ah- long. Toru! Close!” He’s sliding his fingers out then, leaving you whining, as he now presses his thick tip in your entrance, and your eyes lock as you gasp.

“Want to feel you cumming around me, love.” Love that little pet name is destroying you. “Relax, please, don’t tense, just trust me. I got you.”

“I trust you, Satoru.” He exhales then, head resting on yours, then presses in, and you whine out at the pain of the first stretch, and he pauses, groaning.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight. Are you okay, pretty?” You nod a bit, as he eases back, and you’re gripping his back so tightly your nails are leaving crescent marks. “Oh fuck…”

Satoru moans as he presses further in, and you’re full, too full, it’s like nothing you’ve known. He sinks in so deep you feel him in your stomach, feel him everywhere, burning the skin as it stretches to accommodate. Satoru studies you carefully, his brow scrunched up, cupping your face with one hand.

“Baby, you all right? Gotta tell me.”

“I’m so full. It’s just… a lot.” He nods, kissing you again, rocking his hips, and then his tip drags on that spot he’d just fingered, and it feels so good, you’re clinging to him. “There, there!”

“Here?” He does it again, and your eyes roll back, feeling him roll those hips, you’re wetter and wetter with every shallow thrust, and he’s whimpering again, his cheeks flushed pink, his lips parted. “Cum on me, please?”

You need no further urging, you’re soaking Satoru’s cock as you cum, and his lips drink your moans, his hands now holding your thighs, sliding them up further, starting to fuck into you now. You’re falling apart under him, moans ridiculously loud, pleasure is coursing through your body while he fucks you into another orgasm.

“Toru, Toru! Mmm!” Satoru’s pretty eyes look into your own.

“Can I go harder, love?”

“Yes, please.”

He laughs just a bit. “You can take it, huh?”

“I can, fuck I can.” He fucks you harder then, pressing your thighs up, and you’re struggling to take more and more of him, as he’s so deep he’s hitting your cervix.

“Feel me here?” He takes your hand, pressing it on your tummy, and he has a wicked grin as he slides in slow, and you feel him there, making you squeak. “You’re so cute.”

“Cute, still, while mmm… fucking?”

“Cute anytime. Cutie.” He smacks little kisses on your cheeks, somehow he’s dirty and sexy one moment, then sweet and adorable the next. “Mwah!”

“Satoru!” You giggle when he leaves a loud kiss on your lips, but then he presses in so deep and grinds, and you lose all sense. Everything is fading, floating.

“Call me Toru when you cum.”

“Toru!” You cum all over his cock, arousal dripping down his length, down his balls that are smacking your ass, and he sucks in a breath when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“Trying to milk me, she’s greedy already.” You have no clue what he means, all you know is it feels even better, as he’s thickening inside you. “Question.” He huffs out then, panting over you, his chiseled body dripping in sweat.

“G-go ahead.”

“On birth control or I gotta get plan B?” You nervously bury your face into his throat, and he’s laughing softly, stroking your hair as his strokes slow. “Baby gotta let me know, I’m not gonna pull out, wanna fill you up.”

“I’m on the pill. And t-take it on time.” He sighs, tilting your chin up then, smirking deviously, eyes bright fucking blue and insane.

“I’d cum in you anyway, you’d be cute pregnant.”

“What now!?” He’s slammed his lips on yours again, pressing your thighs up, and then he’s fucking harder, sounds of your skin smacking mixing with your wetness, as he fucks you so hard your tits are bouncing, the headboard is smacking. “Taking it easy, huh!?”

“This is easy, love. Oh fuck… gonna cum…” He moans then, his hands cupping your face, and you feel him throbbing inside you, thickening, you are filled with hot ropes of cum, coating your walls, and you cum just from that, earning his groan. “Oh you’re such a good girl.”

He’s gently pumping, gasping as he pumps even more cum, and your muscles are already pushing it out. He sighs then, smacking kisses on you over and over, every inch of your face, making you so blissful, as he’s fucked any thoughts out of your head, you feel like you’re floating, clinging to him, nails digging in.

“This better not be just once.” He says with a glare, and you grin, shaking your head and brushing his hair back.

“Absolutely not just once. Oh! Ouch.” You hiss a bit as he eases out, and you go to look down, but he tilts your chin up, shaking his head.

“Don’t look, you’re always scared of blood. Gonna faint.”

“It’s that much!?”

“No, but you’re sensitive about that. I’ll be right back.” Satoru hops up and you look at the ceiling, you hear a shower running, see the steam rolling into his room, and then he’s back and cleaning you up, before picking you up in his arms. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Yeah, I would love that, Toru. Sounds so good.” He has you under the scalding hot water then, sudsing you up with bubbles everywhere, forming little puffy clouds on your breasts then rinsing them, laughing like he’s having a blast. You shake your head as you watch him.

“I used to jerk off when you’d take showers here.”

“You what now!?”

He just grins, pushing the shower head even lower. “Picturing you, did you ever… you know…”

“Satoru!”

“Did you!?” You look at his shower head nervously, then him, and he’s grinning even wider now. “Oh, you’re a bad girl.”

“Oh stop it, silly. Maybe once or twice. You have great water pressure. Ah, Toru!” Satoru is now on his knees in the shower, looking up at you and rushing that hot shower water against your clit. You gasp at it, as he wraps an arm around your hip to steady you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

Gojo Drabbles/ one shots - Masterlist

[wickjump]

Please? 🥺

omg you all really do love me.... (theres another ask but i hit the 30 image limit so pretend theres another one here sorry). this is gonna be all over the place cause im like that. if this gets over 100 notes ill make a cross shrine in my room

OK!!!!!!! CROSS SANS TIME....

GRGRGRHRHRHHRN OKAY FIRST OF ALL. FROM AN OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT HE WAS MONUMENTAL TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF THIS FANDOM. HE IS PART OF LITERALLY THE FANDOMS BIGGEST PROJECT(S) (UNDERVERSE AND XTALE THE SERIES). HIS EXISTENCE IS LITERALLY THE REASON THIS FANDOM HAS THRIVED FOR SO LONG AFTER SO MANY YEARS. UNDERVERSE IS KEY TO THE FANDOMS SURVIVAL AND CROSS IS A CORE PART OF IT.

HIS STORY IS A FUCKING MASTERPIECE. YEAH I MIGHT BE BIASED BUT SHUT UP. HIS STORY BROUGHT TOGETHER A LOT OF THE FANDOMS IDEAS IN A VISUAL SENSE LIKE NEVER BEFORE. HE EXISTS IN A WORLD THAT IS SO FAR FROM UNDERTALE YET NOT FAR ENOUGH TO BE LIKE DREAMTALE. HE HELPED ESTABLISH THE UNDERTALE MULTIVERSE AS A WHOLE. HE IS A PRODUCT OF A WORLD MADE BY A MEGALOMANIAC (get it) THAT HAS GONE THROUGH TEN WHOLE REBIRTHS. THOUGH HE WASNT A CORE PART OF IT UNTIL THE END OF TIMELINE X, HE ALSO PLAYED A SIGNIFICANT PART IN TIMELINE 2 WHERE HE AND FRISK DEVELOPED THEIR FIRST FRIENDSHIP WITH EACH OTHER AND THEN HE DIED AND AND. CROSS IS SO FAR FROM WHO HE WAS IN EVERY PAST REBIRTH. TIMELINE 1 IS JUST A COPY PASTE OF SANS. TIMELINE 2 IS SOME WEIRD AMALGAMATION OF SANS AND SWAP. TIMELINE 9 (I FORGOT THE ROMAN NUMERAL) STRAYS MORE TOWARDS CLASSIC SANS THAN NOT. AND TIMELINE X HE IS FULL SWAP. AND THAT MUST BE FUCKING WILD TO EXPERIENCE BECAUSE WHILE HE DIDNT GET THE MEMORIES OF PREVIOUS TIMELINES LIKE THE OTHER AU INHABITANTS DID HE FOUND OUT ABOUT THE PREVIOUS TIMELINE REBIRTHS AND AND AND

HES A SWAP. HE IS A SWAP SANS. AND ILL DRILL THIS INTO YOUR MIND AS OFTEN AS I NEED TO. HE IS A SWAP SANS. HE EATS TACOS. HE HAS STARS FOR EYES. THINGS FLY OVER HIS HEAD. HE IS PHYSICALLY STRONG BUT NOT THAT SMART. HE MWEHEHEHS (KIND OF IMPLIED). COME ON DUDE. STOP FORGETTING THIS. MAKE HIM MWEHEHEH MORE. MAKE HIM STAR-EYES MORE WHEN CLASSICS JUST,,, DONT. I NEED THERE TO BE DIFFERENCES CUZ THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL THERE COME ONNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

AAND THATS NOT EVEN TOUCHING ON HIS CHILDHOOD. HE WAS DEADASS VERBALLY AND PHYSICALLY ABUSED BY XGASTER AND HEAVILY NEGLECTED AND WE IGNORE THIS FOR WHY??? HE WAS BEAT AS A KID HELLO??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??! STOP MAKING HIM AN ALPHA GRR MALE AND BREAK DOWN THE WALLS HE WAS FORCED TO BUILD SINCE CHILDHOOD AND GIVE HIM A GOODDAMN SMORE ON A STICK AND WEIGHTED BLANKET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

what a perfectly healthy and normal way to look at your father

HE IS MY FAVORITE TO PROJECT ONTO HIM. HE GREW UP IN THE HOUSE OF A CONTROL FREAK WHO WAS NOT AGAINST USING PHYSICAL VIOLENCE AGAINST A CHILD SO YOUNG THEY HAVE TO USE A FUCKING STEP-STOOL TO REACH THE BATHROOM SINK. HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT. HE IS LITERALLY THE PERFECT PROJECTION DOLL. SUFFERED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA? CROSS IS YA BOY. MAKE HIM SUFFER. CAUSE HE ALREADY HAS. I CAN MAKE HIM HAVE MY PTSD SYMPTOMS ALL I WANT CUZ HES ME FR!!!!!!

ALSO ALPHYS IS HIS SISTER HOLY SHIT CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT MORE??? "OHH BUT TECHNICALLY ALPHYS ISNT AND XPAPYRUS SAID-" THEY GREW UP TOGETHER. WITH THE SAME MAN RAISING THEM. IN THE SAME HOUSE. THEY WENT AS GROUPS TO THINGS. THEY LIKELY WENT TO THE SAME SCHOOLS. THEY SAT AT THE DINNER TABLE TOGETHER. THEY PLAYED TOGETHER. THEY HUNG OUT WITH THE SAME FRIENDS AT THE SAME TIME. ALPHYS HAS A SPECIAL CARE FOR CROSS THAT SHE DOESNT SHOW FOR MOST OTHERS. AND SHES A LESBIAN SO DONT TWIST IT TO BE LIKE A CRUSH OR SOMETHING. THEY R SIBLINGS. THEYRE JUST FLAT OUT SIBLINGS. YEAH PAPYRUS SAID THEYRE NOT BUT PAPYRUS ALSO HAS DISTANCED HIMSELF A LOT FROM HIS FAMILY OVER THE YEARS MEANWHILE CROSS STAYED PUT MORE OFTEN THAN NOT. PAPYRUS HATES XGASTER AND HAS SHOWN THAT DISDAIN MANY MANY MANY MANY TIMES--EVEN EXTENDING THAT DISDAIN TOWARDS ALPHYS HERSELF. HE ONLY STAYS CONNECTED WITH CROSS AND I KNOW DAMN WELL A GOOD CHUNK OF HIS REASONING FOR THAT IS BECAUSE THEY LITERALLY WORK TOGETHER. CROSS HAS ALSO SHOWN THE DISDAIN FOR XGASTER BUT ALSO HOLDS A TYPE OF LONGING AND FEAR IN REFERENCE TO HIS FATHER. PLEASE. PLEASE. COME ON. GIVE ME THIS.

ALPHYS IS LITERALLY HIS SISTER. THEYRE SIBLINGS. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEASE. THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL THERE. HES THE ONLY SANS TO HAVE A SISTER. THE ONLY SANS THAT SEES ALPHYS AS A SISTER. HOW ISOLATED MUST THAT MAKE HIM FEEL. NOT ONLY IS HIS AU SUCH AN AMALGAMATION THAT HE CANT CORRECTLY RELATE WITH CLASSICS OR SWAPS, BUT HE CANT EVEN RELATE TO ANYONE ABOUT ALPHYS. WILD SHIT.

OKAY ANYWAY. AFTER EVERYTHING CROSS WENT THROUGH AS A KID EVENTUALLY HE DISCOVERED HIS DAD WASNT JUST AN ABUSIVE POS BUT ALSO THAT HE CONTROLS THE VERY WORLD HE LIVES IN AND THAT HE IS JUST A SMALL PART OF SOMETHING MUCH GREATER, ONLY INTRODUCED BECAUSE HE TRUSTED FRISK ENOUGH FOR HIM TO CHOOSE CROSS OUT OF EVERYONE. THAT EVERYTHING ABOUT THE WORLD HE LIVES IN IS BECAUSE OF HIS SHITASS DAD. AND HES CONFUSED AND HES ANGRY. AND HIS WORLDVIEW IS COMPLETELY SHATTERED. EVERYTHING HE KNEW WAS A LIE AND HE WAS ALWAYS UNDER XGASTER'S CONTROL. HOW FUCKED UP MUST THAT BE TO REALIZE. ALSO HE WAS STABBED A LOT BY HIS BEST FRIEND. DUDE LOST HIS SENSE OF EVERYTHING. SENSE OF SELF, OF WHO HE CAN TRUST, FAMILY, ETC. AND IT WAS EVEN MORE DRIVEN IN WHEN UNDYNE AND PAPYRUS LITERALLY ATTEMPTED TO KILL HIM. HELLO???

AND. CROSS' OWN NAME. HIS NAME WAS SANS FOR MOST OF HIS LIFE, BUT NOW HE CALLS HIMSELF CROSS AND WILL INSIST THAT NAME IS USED FOR HIM AT ALL TIMES (i know what you are...it fucken transgemder...). BUT THATS NOT. BUT THATS NOT EVEN CONSIDERING THE ONLY REASON HE GOT THAT NAME WAS BECAUSE OF FRISK SEMI-TAUNTING HIM WHILE CROSS WAS IN THE MIDST OF DYING IN HIS DREAM WORLD. THE ONLY THING CROSS HAS LEFT OF HIS BEST FRIEND IS THE NAME HE WAS GIVEN WHILST BLEEDING OUT FROM LIKE 20 STAB WOUNDS. AND YET CROSS IDENTIFIES WITH THAT NAME SO PAINFULLY MUCH HE WILL PHYSICALLY FIGHT AND KICK AND SCREAM TO HAVE IT USED. THE NAME SANS USED FOR HIM MAKES HIM RECOIL.

AND HIS DYNAMIC WITH CHARA??? PAINFULLY UNDERUSED SO SO PAINFULLY UNDERUSED. OH MY GOD. THEY COULD BE THE BROTHERS EVER BUT NOOO YOU HATE CHARA!!!!!! THEY BOTH WENT THROUGH SO MUCH FROM XGASTER AND LOST EVERYTHING THEY LOVE AND CARE ABOUT. BOTH WERE CLOSE TO FRISK. BOTH WERE ABUSED. IF YOU KEEP THE SCAR AND THE RED EYE YOU GOTTA KEEP CHARA THATS THE RULES MAN. SAYING HES LOCKED AWAY IS COWARD SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

CHARA AND HE HAVE FUN BANTER. THEYRE EXCITING. EVERY FIC WITH CHARA WAS A BETTER READ AUTOMATICALLY BECAUSE I LOVE SEEING THEIR DYNAMIC AND ALSO I LOVE CHARA. THE WAY THEY BOTH HAVE DEVELOPED AS PEOPLE FOLLOWING THEIR TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCES AND ACROSS THE DURATION OF THE X-EVENT IS WILD AND AND AND I LOVE IT. THE PARALELLS BETWEEN CROSS AND CHARA, AND CHARA AND XGASTER. THERE IS SO MUCH HURT COMFORT POTENTIAL HELLO?? AND ANGST LIKE. IMAGINE HAVING TO STAY STILL AND NOT REACT AS A GHOST TEENAGER HURLS INSULTS AT YOU THAT HURT DEEPLY, TRYING TO GET A REACTION. IMAGINE THAT SAME GHOST TEENAGER SILENTLY CRYING TO HIMSELF WHEN HE THINKS YOURE ASLEEP. IMAGINE GOING TO A SECLUDED PLACE AND YELLING AT THAT GHOST TEENAGER THAT FOLLOWS YOU AROUND AFTER A DAY OF HAVING TO IGNORE HIM. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER WITHHOLDING INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR PAST LIVES. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER AND YOU TALKING THINGS OUT. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER NAGGING YOU TO EAT CHICKEN NUGGETS BECAUSE HE REALLY WANTS CHICKEN NUGGETS BUT HE CANT CONTROL THE BODY SO CROSS HAS TO EAT THEM FOR HIM SO HE GETS THE SENSATION OF EATING AND THE TASTE OF SAID NUGGIES. IMAGINE BEING INJURED AND THE GHOST TEENAGER WHO HAS YELLED AT YOU MORE TIMES THAN YOU CAN COUNT IS TRYING TO KEEP YOU FOCUSED AND AWAKE AND WHILE HE CANT TOUCH YOU HES TRYING HIS BEST TO COMFORT YOU THE BEST WAY HE CAN BECAUSE YOU JUST STARTED TO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER DAMMIT, YOU CANT DIE NOW. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER REALIZING HE'S ACTING LIKE HIS ABUSIVE DAD WHEN HE YELLS AT CROSS WHAT XGASTER ONCE YELLED AT HIM. IMAGINE THAT GHOST TEENAGER POKING FUN AT CROSS' MISTAKES AND BEING LIKE AN ANNOYING LITTLE BROTHER. IMAGINE THEM DEFENDING EACH OTHERS' NAMES DESPITE THEIR DIFFERENCES BC THEYRE BROTHERS AND THATS WHAT BROTHERS DO. PLEEAAASEEEE.

ALSO THE POTENTIAL HE HAS WITH TORIEL IS REALLY CUTE AND IGNORED. SHES KIND OF LIKE A MOTHER FIGURE TO HIM IDK.... HE DESERVES A MOM I FEEL. EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS MORE LIKE AN AUNT (asriel calls xgaster "uncle") I REALLY LOVE THE IDEA OF THE DREEMURRS BEING PARENTAL TO CROSS. I MEAN. LOOK AT THEM.

HE AND METTATON ARE SO FUNNY TOO BECAUSE THEY HATE EACH OTHERS GUTS SO MUCH. WHICH IS WILD BECAUSE CROSS IS FRISK'S BEST FRIEND, YET METTATON WAS MADE TO PROTECT FRISK. BUT THEY HATE EACH OTHER. AND ITS SO FUNNY. do you think cross is curt with literally every mettaton he sees out of habit. i mean come on LOOK AT THEM. THEYRE SO STUPID.

ALSO CROSS IS SO FUCKING SHORT OH MY GOD. HES 4 FOOT 7 (i thought he was 5 feet until a few days ago cuz that was his old height). i need you to process this. like actually. i am 5'5. i would be 9 inches taller than him. i would be nine inches taller than him. 4'11? 4 inches taller than his tiny ass. he is literally so small. PLEASE make him tiny more often ill be so appreciative. he needs help reaching the cabinets

HES ALSO A FUCKING CUTIE PATOOTIE. HES GOT LITTLE FANGS. HES GOT FANGS!! BITEY BOYS!!!!!!!!! HES GOT FANGS AND THEYRE SHARP!! HE PROBABLY BITES HIS TONGUE SO VERY MUCH!!!!!!!! BITEY BOY. HE WAS A BITER AS A KID TOO. COME ON. EVEN IN UNDERVERSE HES GOT BIG ASS FANGS. ITS NOT JUST A STYLE CHOICE HES LITERALLY A BITEY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HES GOT SHARP TEETHERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he probably needed chew toys as a kid (so did i)`

AND HIS MOUTH. THE WAY ITS ALEWAYS LIKE THIS. HES ALWAYS GOT THAT STUPID LITTLE CHEEK. HE JUST. HES SO.. RGGRGRGRGGRGRROWLS I LOVE HIM!! HE IS SO SILLAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AND HES SO SMUG TOO ALL THE TIME. HE HAS SOME SUPERIORITY COMPLEX AT ALL TIMES. LOOK AT HIS SMUG FUCKING FACE. LOOK AT HIM. DUMBASS. HE DOES THIS SIGNATURE BASTARD THING WHERE HE TURNS HIS HEAD TO THE SIDE WITH A SCOFF. HE IS SO PRISSY. SO UPTIGHT ALL THE TIME. GOD

hes such a FUCKING MENACE TOO. LOOK AT THIS ASSHOLE.

HES TERRIBLE. HES SUCH A DICK. HES A MENACE AND SHOULD BE KEPT ON A LEASH. HES A SMUG IDIOT WHO THINKS HES BETTER THAN SO MANY PEOPLE AND HE IS MEAN AND SORT OF FULL OF HIMSELF AND DEFINITELY ACTS LIKE MOST PEOPLE FROM THE MILITARY IVE MET. which is fitting because hes FROM THE XTALE MILITARY. "ROYAL GUARD" IN XTALE IS JUST DEADASS THE MILITARY. HIS STUPID SELF WENT TO BOOT CAMP. AND YET HES LIKE THIS. AWFUL. HES MEAN TO KIDS. HE LITERALLY STOLE A CHILD'S CHOCOLATE MILK. WHO DOES THAT. APPARENTLY CROSS DOES.

HE IS JUST. CANONICALLY AWFUL TO KIDS. HES NEEDLESSLY JUST. MEAN TO THEM. FOR NO REASON. HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO HANDLE KIDS. WASNT GIVEN A GOOD EXAMPLE. TERRIBLE BABYSITTER. BUT ALSO HE'D CANONICALLY LOVE HIS DAUGHTER IF HE EVER HAD ONE.... HE DOESNT WANNA TREAT HIS CHILD LIKE HIS DAD TREATED HIM.... SIGHS... HE CALLS HIS DAUGHTER HIS PRINCESS WTF,,, HES A CUTIE PIE.!!!!!!!!!!! HE NEEDS 2 WORK THINGS OUT :(

AND AND AND. THE LITTLE WAYS HE CHOOSES TO REBEL. LIKE HIS NEW TERRIBLE AS HELL OUTFIT WITH THE BOOB WINDOW. WHICH I DONT LIKE. BUT ITS A WAY FOR HIM TO REBEL AGAINST WHAT HES FORCED TO BE HIS ENTIRE LIFE YADDA YADDA. THE OLD OUTFIT WAS BETTER BUT THE SYMBOLISM HERE IS NEAT. ANYWAY. THE LEFTOVER FEELINGS AND RAGE AND ANGER HE HAS FOR HIS FATHER BUT THE LONGING TO BE ACCEPTED AND LOVED BY HIM?!?!??!?!?!?! COME ON GUYS. WE CAN DO BETTER THAN THIS. WE CAN MAKE HIM HAVE MORE DADDY ISSUES

HE IS SO CONFLICTING FEELINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! INTOXICATED ASSHOLE WANTS A HUG FROM HIS DAD BUT ALSO HATES HIS DAD SOOOOOOOOO MUCH.

ALSO LOOK AT HIM AS A DUMB CUTE LITTLE BABY. BABY BOY. FAT USELESS INFANT. ADORABLE. I LOVE HIM

HE DOESNT KNOW ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOTHING AT ALL!!! SWEET BABY BOY...... HE KNOWS NOT OF THE HORRORS THAT AWAIT HIM!!!!!!

and hes a CRYBABY TOO AND I LOVE THAT FOR HIM. GRGHRGRRGRHWOLOWLSS

he was BORN A CRYBABY AND THATS HOW HE'LL DIE!!! AND NOBODY UTILIZES THIS BTW. IVE GOT LIKE FOUR OR FIVE OTHER PHOTOS OF HIM JUST CRYING IN SITUATIONS WHERE CRYING ISNT WARRANTED. BUT HE DOES. HE CRIES WHEN HE IS MILDLY FRUSTRATED. HE CRIES WHEN HE IS MILDLY ASHAMED. WHERE IS HIM CRYING OVER STUPID SHIT. WHERE IS HIM TAKING A JOKE TOO PERSONALLY AND HE TEARS UP AGAINST HIS WILL. WHERE IS HIM SOBBING IN HIS ROOM OVER SOMETHING SOMEONE SAID IN PASSING THAT HIT TOO HARD. WHY DOESNT HE CRY MORE. YOURE ALL PUSSIES. MAKE HIM CRY MORE OFTEN. CRYBABY CROSS. HE DESERVES 2 BE ONE AFTER BEING WARPED INTO AN ALPHA MALE FOR THE PAST EIGHT GODDAMN YEARS. FUCK

AND AND AND THATS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO TOUCHING HIS FANON INTERACTIONS WHICH I LOVE JUST AS MUCH. HOW EVERYONE INSTANTLY DECIDED HED HAVE A RIVALRY WITH KILLER GIVEN HOW CROSS IS EASY TO RILE UP AND FRUSTRATE WHILE KILLER IS THE BUTTON PUSHER?? GREAT SHIT. ALL OF YOU. GOOD JOB. ITS FUCKING BRILLIANT. THANK YOU.

CROSS JOINING NIGHTMARE'S GROUP IS MY FAVORITE INTERPETATION. SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE I KNOW HE WOULDNT WANT TO. CROSS IS FUCKED UP BUT HE HAS MORALS, HE STILL FOLLOWS THE ROYAL GUARD CODE MENTALLY. HE DOESNT LIKE KILLING. HE DOESNT AGREE WITH NEEDLESS MURDER. HE CAN HARM, SURE, BUT ALL THE DEATH WAS XCHARA'S DIRECT ACTIONS OR HEAVY INFLUENCE (love u xchara). CROSS WOULD LOATHE TO JOIN NIGHTMARES GROUP AS A LACKEY WHO GOES AROUND KILLING PEOPLE FOR NO GAIN TOWARDS HIMSELF. HE DOES WHAT HE DOES TO GET HIS AU BACK. JOINING NIGHTMARE'S TEAM WITH NO HELP TOWARDS THAT GOAL WOULD BE HELL ON HIM, EVEN IN A FANON SETTING. BECAUSE HE'D HATE IT. HE'S GONE FROM A RIGHTEOUS ROYAL GUARD WHO HELPED THOSE IN NEED TO SOMEONE WHO LIVES WITH A GROUP OF MURDERERS AND AIDS THEM IN THEIR KILLING OF INNOCENTS. i like to think cross doesnt kill, like he just. refuses to. he will hurt and incapacitate, but he doesn't kill. and he also refuses to harm children, papyri, alphys, whatever. there were times where he couldve killed one of the stars but he didn't and idk i like that. i like it when hes like that.

I ALSO LOVE FANON AND CANON DYNAMICS WITH NM'S GROUP EITHER AS A WHOLE OR AS INDIVIDIUALS. I LOVE KROSS SO OBVIOUSLY KILLER AND CROSS' DYNAMIC IS MY FAVORITE. I LOVE RIVALS. I LOVE PEOPLE WHO CANT STAND EACH OTHER. I LOVE IT WHEN KILLER BUGS CROSS UNTIL HE SNAPS AND THATS WHEN THEIR DYNAMIC GETS MORE INTERESTING. I LOVE IT WHEN CROSS GETS RILED UP AND ANGRY. I LOVE IT WHEN HES MAD AND GOT ISSUES. I LOVE IT WHEN KILLER EGGS HIM ON BECAUSE ITS FUNNY. I LOVE WHEN THEY REACH A DEEPER UNDERSTANDING.

HORROR AND DUST... MAN. I LOVE DUST AND CROSS' DYNAMIC THE MOST OUT OF THE TWO JUST CAUSE DUST IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES. THEY BOTH HAVE GHOST BROTHERS (EVEN IF ONE ISNT EXACTLY REAL). DUST IS PARANOID AND JITTERY BUT MOST OF ALL QUIET, HE DOESNT PICK FIGHTS LIKE KILLER DOES SO CROSS LIKES HIM FOR THAT. THEY HANG AROUND IN SILENCE I THINK,,,

HORROR MAKES CROSS THINK OF HOME IN A WAY BECAUSE OF HOW HE COOKS AND WHAT HE COOKS. HORROR IS VERY RUMBLY AND SORT OF LIKE A GREAT DANE AND DEFINITELY VERY INTIMIDATING AT FIRST. HE SCARED OFF CROSS SO SO MUCH AT FIRST. I THINK CROSS ASKING HIM TO MAKE LIKE TACOS OR A BUTTERSCOTCH CINNAMON PIE WAS WHEN THEY STARTED 2 GET CLOSER. BUT THATS CAUSE I LOVE THEM AS A SHIP TOO SO YOU MIGHT BE GETTING SOME UNDERTONES. THATS WHY. HOWEVER THERES ALSO ANGST POTENTIAL GIVEN THE DIFFERENCE IN THEIR ALPHYS'. HORROR LOBOTOMIZED HER. CROSS WAS RAISED ALONGSIDE HER. LOVELY

NIGHTMARE IS A SUPER COOL CHARACTER IN UNDERVERSE I FEEL. NOT JUST BECAUSE HE IS VIOLENCE ITSELF BUT BECAUSE OF HOW MANIPULATIVE HE WAS. IN CANON IT WOULDNT BE TOO HARD TO MANIPULATE CROSS INTO FULLY JOINING, EXCEPT IN UNDERVERSE HE DIDNT HAVE A TEAM, JUST KILLER. IF HE DID, I DONT DOUBT HE COULD MANIPULATE CROSS INTO JOINING. CROSS HAD LOST EVERYTHING, AND HE WOULD DO ANYTHING TO GET HIS WORLD, HIS FAMILY, BACK. IN FANON, NIGHTMARE IS A LOT MORE A "take you under my wing" KIND OF FIGURE I THINK!!!!!!!!!! HE CARES FOR CROSS IN THAT REGARD, TAKING IN A STUBBORN SOLDIER WHO LOST AS MUCH AS THE OTHER MEMBERS OF HIS TEAM. EITHER WAY I LIKE HIM. I THINK CROSS WOULD HATE HIS GUTS IN CANON, BECAUSE. HE DOES. YEAH. BUT IN A MORE FANON SETTING CROSS WOULD BE PAINFULLY LOYAL EVEN IF IT HURT HIM, BECAUSE CROSS IS USED TO SURRENDERING HIMSELF TO LOYALTY. HIS MORALS, HIS WANTS, NOTHING MATTERS WHEN HE HAS A JOB TO DO AND SOMEONE TO PLEASE. NIGHTMARE COULD VERY WELL BE THAT, THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CANONMARE AND FANONMARE IS HOW NM REACTS.

AND EPIC. I LOVE YOU EPIC. I LOVE HIS DYNAMIC WITH EPIC. I LOVE HOW CROSS KNEW EPIC AND THEN FORGOT. AND THEN MET HIM AGAIN AND AND. GRGRRHRHH. HOW THEY WERE FRIENDS IN ANOTHER LIFE AND THEYRE FRIENDS IN THIS ONE TOO. HOW DESPITE HOW DIFFERENT CROSS IS NOW, EPIC STAYS. I LOVE HOW THEYRE CASUAL BESTIES. I LOVE HOW THEYRE SILLY TOGETHER AND WATCH EACH OTHER DO STUPID SHIT AND EGG EACH OTHER ON. I LOVE HOW THEYRE DUMB TOGETHER AND MAKE SILLY JOKES AND WATCH ANIME AND MAKE SILLY REFERENCES. I LOVE THEM. EVERYONE IS PROBABLY SO TIRED OF THEM. THEYRE SO DUMB AND SILLY AND GRGRRHRRHHRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEYRE BESTIES. THEYRE THE DUMBEST BESTEST FRIENDS. CROSS ONLY EVER TRULY UNWINDS AND LETS HIS GUARD DOWN WHEN EPIC'S AROUND AND THERES SOMETHING SPECIAL ABOUT THAT. SOULMATES I TELL U.......

THE STARS!!! COULDNT FINISH THIS POST WITHOUT MENTIONING THEM. CROSS' DYNAMIC WITH THEM ISNT SOMETHING I FOCUS ON TOO-TOO MUCH NORMALLY BUT HERE WE GO!!!!

HIM AND SWAP FIRST. CROSS RELATES MORE TO SWAP THAN HE DOES MOST OTHER SANSES BECAUSE CROSS IS A SWAP. THIS IS KIND OF CANON TOO. WHILE CROSS FINDS A LOT OF CLASSIC BEHAVIORS DETESTABLE (ie drinking condiments or overall being lazy), SWAP IS LIKE HIM IN THAT REGARD. THEYRE BESTIES. THEY INTERACT A LOT OUTSIDE OF THEIR BRIEF CANON MEETING. JAKEI DRAWS THEM LOTS,,,,, SIGHS,,, I THINK THEYD BE GOOD FRIENDS EVEN IF CROSS ISNT IN THE STARS, LIKE A TRUCE AU OR JUST WHERE CROSS DOESNT ALIGN HIMSELF WITH ANY TEAM OR EVEN WHERE CROSS DOES, BUT THIS SWAP ISNT THE SAME ONE ON THE STARS' TEAM. THEYD BE SUPER CLOSE FRIENDS I THINK... au where cross is on nm's team but hangs out with a random swap from an unaffected timeline to destress between jobs, but that swap ends up being the one in the stars and idk. beginning of a truce or something much worse. u decide

DREAM!!!!! I DONT LIKE CREAM BUT I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC IN CANON IN A PLATONIC WAY. I THINK THEYD BE FRIENDS. DREAM INSPIRES HOPE IN CROSS IN A WAY THAT HE THOUGHT HE LOST, REMINDING HIM OF HIS ROOTS AND HIS SENSE OF BELONGING IN THE ROYAL GUARD. WHICH IS A SCENE THAT MADE ME TEAR UP. THAT KIND OF HOPE IS JUST WHAT CROSS NEEDED IN THE MOMENT AND I FEEL DREAM COULD BE A REALLY GOOD GENUINE MORAL SUPPORT IN THAT REGARD. A GOOD INFLUENCE THAT CROSS 100% NEEDS. IF CROSS IS ON NM'S TEAM, DREAM IS THE ONE THAT MAKES CROSS HESITATE EVERY TIME DREAM OFFERS AND CROSS IS ABOUT TO DENY.

INK. WOULDNT BE A CROSS POST WITHOUT A LITTLE BIT OF INK WOULD IT. INK AND CROSS ARE SO DIVORCEES I THINK. BOTH WERE MANIPULATED BY XGASTER, ALTHOUGH CROSS WAS TREATED AHEM A LOT MORE POORLY. INK IS A REMINDER OF CROSS' PAST AND HIS TIME SPENT IN THE REMAINS OF HIS AU, IN ISOLATION. YET INK WAS ALSO HIS FRIEND. INK MEANT THE WORLD TO HIM BACK THEN. AND INSTINCTUALLY CROSS STILL DEFENDS HIM, EVEN IF HES ANGRY AND HATES INK FOR WHAT HE DID. THEYRE FULL OF CONFLICTING FEELINGS. AND I LOVE BOTH EQUALLY WHERE THEY EITHER TALK THINGS OUT OR WHERE IT STEWS FOREVER.

I ALSO REALLY LOVE JAKEIS DEVELOPMENT OF HIM. AT FIRST HE WAS A VERY ANGRY CHARACTER WHO WAS SORT OF DISSOCIATING AND IN A TERRIBLE MENTAL STATE (TO WHERE IF HE WAS ABLE TO USE THE OVERWRITE BUTTON AT THE TIME OF BEING TRAPPED IN THE REMAINS OF HIS AU HE WOULD HAVE DESTROYED HIS BODY AND ANY CHANCE OF FIXING THE AU BECAUSE HE IS SO OUT OF IT MENTALLY). AND HE REMAINED ANGRY FOR A GOOD BIT. AND THEN GOT EMO AND SAD. AND THEN HE GOT TIRED. AND NOW HES BACK TO BEING ANGRY AGAIN MOST LIKELY GIVEN THE FEW SNEAK PEAKS IVE SEEN OF THE NEXT UNDERVERSE EP. IM EXCITED TO SEE HOW HE REACTS TO SEEING XGASTER AGAIN. IM ALSO MOSTLY EXCITED FOR HIS OLD OUTFIT BEING BACK. I DIDNT LIKE THE BOOB WINDOW OR SLEEVELESS JOCK GETUP. SORRY CROSS

CAPSLOCK IS GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME

OKAY. ANYWAY. HIS KNIFE THE BIG RED KNIFE. I MISS IT SO MUCH. THAT KNIFE INFLUENCED MY CHARACTER DESIGN FOR AGES. HES EDGY AND EMO AND I MISS THE KNIFE. THERE WAS SOMETHING ICONIC TO ME ABOUT IT. BIG RED KNIFE IS STILL CANON.... XCHARA COME BACK... I NEED U TO KNIFE HIM UP AGAIN...

AND AND AND. AND. CROSS!!!! HES PERFECT TO PROJECT ANYTHING ONTO. HES PERFECT TO WRITE ANGST OF. AND COMFORT I GUESS. HES MY FAVORITE CHARACTER TO WRITE THE DEHUMANIZATION OF BECAUSE HE EVEN CALLS HIMSELF A DOG AT ONE POINT IN UNDERVERSE. HELLO???? THERE WAS A POST THAT WENT LIKE "submissive in the way a dog is submissive to the sheep it kills coyotes for" THATS CROSS. THOSE IMAGES WHERE ITS A NOSTALGIC PICTURE OF A DOG/WOLF WITH TEXT IN A TYPEWRITER FONT ABOUT LOYALTY BEING THE DEATH OF YOU? CROSS. "IM NOT A VIOLENT DOG I DONT KNOW WHY I BITE" "I WONT WAIT FOR YOU, I BITE"? CROSS. CROSS CROSS CROSS. HE IS PERFECT BECAUSE HE IS ANGRY AND HE IS VIOLENT BUT HE IS HURTING. AND HE HURTS SO GODDAMN MUCH.

ID ADD SO MANY MORE IMAGES BUT I HIT THE 30 IMAGE LIMIT?!?!?!?!? PLEASE TELL ME U KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT THO.... PLEASE.... COME ON.......

I LOVE CROSS SO MUCH. I REALLY DO. HES MY BESTEST BOY EVER. I WOULD SAY GOOD BOY AND HE WOULD TREMBLE. I JUST REALIZED HOW SUGGESTIVE THAT SOUNDED. TAKE THAT AS YOU WILL I GUESS. ANYWAY YES CROSS SANS

I LOVE HIM. HES MY FAVORITE. I LOVE HIM AND HIS DYNAMICS WITH OTHER CHARACTERS. I LOVE HIM AND HIS STORY. I LOVE HIM AND HIS STUPID HABITS. HIS DAILY STRUGGLE TO GET DRESSED BC HES STUPID AND THE OUTFIT IS COMPLICATED. THE WAY HE CRIES SO MUCH. HIS STUPID FACE. HIS SMUG ASS STANCE. HIS STRAIGHT FUCKING POSTURE. THE WAY HES AN ASSHOLE TO EVERYONE WHO DOESNT HOLD DIRECT POWER OVER HIM. THE WAY HES DEVELOPED AS A CHARACTER OVER THE YEARS. I LOVE HIM.

THIS ISNT EVEN ALL OF IT. BUT ITS GETTING SO LONG IM JUST. GONNA END HERE. LMFAO. OK THATS IT

BYEBYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[diorsluv]

feather , part 32

“ you miss me? ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, and 237,966 others

yourusername hughes appreciation post has come! (they wouldn’t leave me alone until i swore i would do it)

tagged: jackhughes, lhughes_06, _quinnhughes

view all comments

mackie.samo when did luke let you put flowers in his hair??

→ yourusername senior year 🙏🙏

→ lhughes_06 IT WAS FOR PROM OKAY

→ mackie.samo awww were you each others’ prom date??

→ yourusername yes 🙄

→ edwards.73 YOU OWE ME $50 mackie.samo

→ lhughes_06 you guys bet on us going to prom together??? a year after prom??

→ markestapa yes

username44 luke’s second pic 🥰

username98 OH MY GOD QUINNN

→ yourusername THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING

markestapa that pasta was fire esp with the cheese on top

→ yourusername mark.. we don’t have cheese

→ markestapa WAS THAT HIS FUCKING DANDRUFF

→ trevorzegras LMFAOOOO

→ jackhughes I DON’T HAVE DANDRUFF

→ colecaufield explain the “cheese” 🤨 jackhughes

→ jackhughes no further comment.

_quinnhughes hey wait my pics aren’t bad

→ yourusername EXACTLY I’M NOT THAT MEAN

→ yourusername i mean i still like the canadiens better but I’M NOT MEAN 🙏

→ _quinnhughes oh 😒

→ colecaufield WOOOOO

→ yourusername GO HABS 😈😈

rutgermcgroarty i’m surprised jack was able to carry you

→ jackhughes are you calling me weak

→ yourusername are you calling me hard to carry

→ rutgermcgroarty wait no i was just saying yk bc i had to carry you and i was struggling but only a bit and not because you’re hard to carry or anything 😰😰

→ adamfantilli bro can’t stop yapping

→ jackhughes maybe you’re just weak

→ yourusername maybe you’re the one that just can’t carry me

→ rutgermcgroarty stop teaming up on me 😕

lhughes_06 i’m looking pretty cute here

→ dylanduke25 yes you are 😘

→ markestapa cutest hughes brother 🙌

→ mackie.samo such a pretty princess 🥰

→ edwards.73 my little cutie patootie 😻

→ lhughes_06 oh mackie.samo edwards.73

→ yourusername even tho ur my bsf i’m gonna have to say my bf is cuter

→ lhughes_06 sad to say you’re not wrong 😔

username2 STOP TEASING USSSS

username31 girl i need to know and i need to know now

_alexturcotte now that i think about it you only have quinn and jack’s jerseys

→ yourusername i have luke’s michigan jersey 😔

→ lhughes_06 WHAT i thought i sent you mine already

→ yourusername it’s okay lukey you’re fine if i just wear quinn’s right 😁

→ trevorzegras damn lil drizz i see you (you’re not slick i know what you’re doing)

→ lhughes_06 i wanna see my name and number on your back yourusername

→ yourusername i mean.. technically it is your name and number on my back 🤗🤗

→ lhughes_06 stfu 🙄🙄

→ yourusername shutting the fuck up 😕

→ lhughes_06 i better see you wearing a DEVILS jersey with my name before the next game

→ yourusername yes sir 🫡

→ _alexturcotte what the hell did i just do 😨

luca.fantilli fantilli appreciation post??

→ yourusername OH MY GOD LEAVE ME ALONE

→ adamfantilli do you not appreciate us ☹️

→ yourusername yes i appreciate you adam

→ luca.fantilli how much

→ yourusername very much

→ luca.fantilli enough to dedicate a whole post to us?

→ yourusername enough for you to not need a post that tells you how much i appreciate you 🙄

→ jackhughes stop stealing the spotlight guys

→ lhughes_06 fr she never appreciates us

→ _quinnhughes exactly

→ mackie.samo could never be us 🥱

→ maddy.samo say it louder for the people in the back 🗣️🗣️

→ msamoskevich she loves us more than all of you

→ colecaufield why are 3 families fighting over her

→ dylanduke25 CAN WE JOIN

→ tyler___duke5 IM READY TO FIGHT

→ trevorzegras dude come here griffinzegras

→ yourusername what the actual fuck

username74 all of them won the gene race wtf

colecaufield jack isn’t really doing it for me in that 2nd photo…

→ yourusername when is he ever doing it for you

→ colecaufield you’re right

→ jackhughes HEY this is supposed to be an appreciation post not a “let’s bully jack” post

→ _alexturcotte let’s bully jack

username90 pretty prettier and prettiest

username12 AYYYY THERES MY BOYS

username55 i have a hunch she’s doing this to throw us off even more

→ username36 i have a hunch she’s been doing this for way longer

trevorzegras why is luke’s kind of…

→ yourusername right 🤭

→ trevorzegras i meant in a bad way

→ yourusername oh

→ lhughes_06 how did you manage to turn this post into a weapon against us 😡

→ adamfantilli someone help luke’s talking like a fanfiction writer again

→ lhughes_06 I AM NOT

adamfantilli drysdale siblings try not to neglect us challenge go!

→ yourusername WHAT i don’t neglect you

→ luca.fantilli YES YOU DO

→ jamie.drysdale why did you have to rope me into this 😒

username11 fun fact guys it’s luke 😍😍

→ username79 wbk

→ username60 tell us something we don’t know

username23 they all look so ethereal

dylanduke25 won’t your bf be jealous that you keep posting these hotties

→ yourusername no bc they’re not hotties 🥰

→ _quinnhughes rude yourusername

→ lhughes_06 exactly i can’t believe he hasn’t gone insane yet

→ jackhughes we’re too 🔥

mackie.samo i heard from a little birdie that you’re not slick ‼️

→ yourusername i’m the slickest wym

→ yourusername they can’t sniff me out 🗣️🗣️

→ mackie.samo stfu ur so obvious

→ markestapa like you’re really obvious it’s embarrassing

→ dylanduke25 fr

→ yourusername NO IF WE DIDN’T TELL YOU THEN YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO TELL

→ edwards.73 stop lying to yourself

→ adamfantilli we could tell wayyyyy before you even started dating

→ yourusername 😔

username35 what are they saying in mackie’s replies 🤯

username47 i could bet anyone 1k IN CASH that they’re dating and i know i would win

username81 waiting for the day she posts bad luke pics

→ yourusername not possible!

username1 yall i swear to god i saw her on a date with him yesterday

jamie.drysdale i can’t believe you appreciate them more than you appreciate me

→ yourusername NOT TRUE

→ jamie.drysdale YES TRUE

→ yourusername I MADE AN APPRECIATION POST FOR YOU ALREADY

→ jamie.drysdale THAT’S NOT ENOUGH

→ yourusername you’re so needy 😒

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes, colecaufield, and 200,219 others

yourusername HELLO KITTY ☺️

view all comments

rutgermcgroarty i thought you were done with all your food posts

→ yourusername would you rather have me post my “lovesick” posts again

→ rutgermcgroarty i mean technically he’s still in the post

→ yourusername uh huh keep talking i dare you

→ rutgermcgroarty I MISSED YOUR FOOD POSTS SO MUCH

→ yourusername mhm 🤨

username46 OH MY GOD WHERE IS THAT STORE

username25 THE PIZZA???

_quinnhughes i was really hoping your hello kitty obsession fully died down

→ yourusername NEVERRR

jackhughes you haven’t posted ONE post without a picture of your bf since you got together

→ yourusername YES I HAVE

→ colecaufield no tf you haven’t

→ yourusername i’m sorry i love him too much 😞

→ luca.fantilli ick yourusername

→ dylanduke25 LADY BONER GONEEEEE

→ markestapa DUKER STOP

→ lhughes_06 aw that’s cute yourusername

username77 if jack said she hasn’t posted without a pic of her bf and last post ONLY had him and his brothers…….

→ username68 waiting for the day y’all stop acting like we all don’t know it’s lukey pooks

dylanduke25 when did he learn how to braid

→ yourusername when we were younger and i forced him to learn how to do my hair 🤗🤗

→ dylanduke25 AND I JUST FOUND THIS OUT?

→ _alexturcotte you’re late bro

→ jackhughes i’ve walked into his room one too many times and seen him braiding her hair

→ yourusername HEY BUT HE LIKES DOING MY HAIR

→ _quinnhughes you’re not helping his case 😭

edwards.73 your hair is so greasy

→ yourusername no it’s not yours is

→ edwards.73 if you stepped out into the sun rn you would be able to hear your hair sizzling

→ yourusername i could cook a whole five course meal from the amount of grease in your hair

→ mackie.samo DAMNN EDDY UR GONNA TAKE THAT??

→ yourusername he can’t think of a better comeback 🥱🥱

username27 WHEN HE KNOWS HOW TO DO YOUR HAIRRRR 🤭🤭

liked by yourusername

username91 hello kitty x dominos collab when 😱

username4 my foodie twinnem

lhughes_06 did you buy the pizzas?

→ yourusername no i baked them with my boyfriend 🥰

→ lhughes_06 he must be a REALLY good cook then

→ yourusername no actually he sucks ass and he almost burnt the kitchen down ‼️‼️

→ lhughes_06 oh 😐

colecaufield donuts 🤤🤤

→ yourusername is that all you got from this post

→ colecaufield DONUTS 🙂

_alexturcotte pizza 🤤🤤

→ yourusername did you two copy and paste your comments

→ _alexturcotte PIZZA 🙂

trevorzegras luke 🤤🤤

this comment has been deleted

trevorzegras your bf 🤤🤤

→ yourusername ZEGRAS I SWEAR

→ trevorzegras YOUR BF 🙂

→ yourusername next time i see you it’s on sight

luca.fantilli tell your little boyfriend that he needs to stop letting you steal him from us when you’re around

→ yourusername let’s be so honest i’ve always stolen him from you when i was around 🙄🙄

→ luca.fantilli EXACTLY SO TELL HIM

→ yourusername tell him yourself 🤬

→ lhughes_06 luca if i didn’t know any better i’d say you’re jealous

→ luca.fantilli i take it all back

jamie.drysdale you said you stopped liking hello kitty when you were 9 😐😐

→ yourusername LITERALLY WHEN DID I SAY THAT

→ jamie.drysdale you know when.

→ yourusername no i don’t?????

→ jamie.drysdale YES YOU DO

→ yourusername STOP TRYING TO GASLIGHT ME

username63 IM SO TIRED WAITING FOR THEM TO HARD LAUNCH

username41 we’ve been stuck in soft launch era for TOO LONG

username26 girl i love you but PLEASE JUST GIVE US CONFIRMATION

markestapa DID YOU SEE THAT ONE SHIRT

→ yourusername mark babe there’s a lot of shirts

→ markestapa THAT ONE HELLO KITTY SHIRT BUT IT SAID HELLO TITTY INSTEAD OF HELLO KITTY

→ yourusername NO??

→ markestapa IT’S SO FUNNY

→ yourusername you’re the type of guy to laugh at a hello titty shirt 😐

maddysamo i miss you 😞

→ mackie.samo BACK TF UP

→ yourusername I MISS YOU MORE

→ jackhughes oh my god get away

→ lhughes_06 you’re so defensive jack

→ dylanduke25 you’re one to talk lhughes_06

adamfantilli the frosting on the donuts kind of look like glue

→ yourusername throwback to your glue eating era ⁉️

→ adamfantilli I ONLY TOLD YOU THE STORY YOU WERENT EVEN THERE

→ yourusername high school sophomore eating liquid glue 😱😱

→ adamfantilli LITERALLY SHUT UP

→ lhughes_06 LMAOOO

→ yourusername don’t act like you didn’t eat glue all of your elementary school career luke

→ lhughes_06 oh 🙃

username21 hard launch when 🙁🙁

→ username59 apparently fucking never

username77 by the time they hard launch they’ll already be married with three kids and another one in the oven

liked by yourusername

→ username44 OMG SHE LIKED IT??

mackie.samo TECHNICALLY he forgot to braid and i taught him how to do it again

→ yourusername no go ahead take all the credit 🙄

→ lhughes_06 🫤🫤

→ rutgermcgroarty 🤓

→ markestapa ACKSHUALLY

→ edwards.73 nerd alerttttt 🚨🚨🚨

→ mackie.samo okay hate on me then 😒

next chapter notes ) i’ve gotten to the point where i’m posting once in a blue moon but at the same time i’ve literally been procastinating in every aspect of my life (i just spent 3 hours on one class’ assignments) anyways THE HARD LAUNCH IS COMING SOON 🫢🫢 not proofread ‼️

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys@loveforaugust@cstads-blog@h0e4fictionalme-n

[satorusugurugurl]

Never got a request for them you say…

I know i request way to fucking much but I can’t help myself I love ur writing🫶

Butttt hear me out adult trio gojo geto shoko with fem reader. I’m thinking professional reader, who has an exhausting but rewarding job comes home exhausted, but her 3 lovers cheer her right up <333

Could be fluff or smut, I just need them in my life Fr

-🍭

Welcome Home!

Character: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Shoko Ieiri, FAB!Reader

Word Count; 2,853

Warning: overworked reader, nipple play, oral sex, praising, making out, achohol consumption, Geto in a fucking apron has me FERAL

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I had lots of fun with this one 🥵🌶 Spicy loved it 1000000/10 would recommend.

Everything hurt, from your feet to your back, as you exited your car, the garage shutting behind you. You had been gone for twelve hours, leaving at six and getting home when you'd left this morning. But you couldn't complain. Your business had taken off, and as CEO, you had responsibilities to take care of, which tended to keep you away from home longer than you'd like, but the paycheck was worth it.

You had started your own candle company in college. Book tropes, characters, and television series inspired the candles you made. Your shop had been small, and you were content with that. Until your partners suggested advertising on social media, reaching out to authors, broadening your horizons. You hadn't expected much, maybe a couple of dozen more orders, a few rejection letters from said authors. What you hadn't been expecting was for your products to go viral, and several authors jumped at the opportunity to commission you for custom character candles.

Your tiny little shop became a big-time shop so fast it had your head spinning. You shipped orders worldwide, made custom customer orders, and were featured on several podcasts. Your company was close to being a multimillion-dollar company with several locations. While exciting, and you didn't need to worry about money, it was exhausting. Long hours, dozens of meetings, and business trips were your new norm; it came with the title CEO. You loved your job! There was, however, one downside.

You missed the fuck out of your partners.

With your position, you could take care of the house payment and utilities. Allowing your partners to do whatever they want without worry. Shoko was studying to become a surgeon, Geto was working on a novel, and Satoru was your biggest investor; seeing as he was from a wealthy family, he could do what he wanted. And what he wanted was to help your company grow. Things were perfect; it justified you working so hard all the time. Some days were more exhausting than others, but it was also gratifying. Your partners could pursue their dreams, and as long as they were happy, so were you.

”I’m home.” You announced mid-yawn, removing your heels and setting them to the side. You ventured into the living room. The condo was clean and tidy, as per usual, thanks to your amazing partners. They took such good care of the house when you were gone.

“Welcome home.” Suguru greeted you from the kitchen. Both the mouth-watering aroma of prepared food and the sexy man stopped you in your tracks. “Thank you for all of your hard work today, Princess.” He wore gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into his signature half up half down style.

The best part of his whole outfit was the apron. Good god, it was illegal! The black apron went around his neck and tied firmly around his waist. It read, ‘My meat is 100% Going In Your Mouth’. It was a gag gift, one you’d need to thank Satoru for purchasing. Suguru was wiping his damp hands on it as he made his way around the island, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

You melted in his embrace, your arms snaking around him as he kissed the top of your head. “Thank you. It’s good to be back.” You sniffed at the air, happily groaning at the scent of food. “That smells absolutely amazing, Sugu!”

“You had a long day, so I made one of your favorites.” You followed him into the kitchen, staring at the four neatly prepared plates of perfectly prepared katsudon and fluffy white rice. ”I was finishing up the salad. It should be done in a few minutes.”

A warm body pressed against your back; the smell of clean linen and musk followed the body's movements behind you as Satoru rested his chin on your shoulder. “I hope so, I’m starving.” The whiny tone that resonated from Satoru had Suguru rolling his eyes at his antics as he chopped up lettuce. “But not as hungry as you probably are. You busted your ass today, as usual.” Soft lips peppered your cheek with kisses.

“It was a very long day.” You reached forward, grabbing a slice of cucumber off the cutting board and popping it in your mouth. “But it’s well worth it.”

“Long day; I guess this calls for some sake,” Shoko added, handing you a glass of chilled peach sake.

You took a long sip, humming at the sweet taste that danced over your tastebuds. “Shoko, what would I do without you?” Your exhausted-looking girlfriend took a long sip of her drink before pressing a kiss against your lips.

”You would be stuck with these two idiots.”

“Hey!”

Satoru pouted, while Suguru just shook his head with an unbothered chuckle. The carefree atmosphere and warm aura had you relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders as the four of you sat down for dinner. While you ate and conversed with them, your partners looked you over while you weren’t paying them attention. Suguru took note of the dark circles under your eyes before looking at Satoru from his peripheral vision. He had noticed the circles along with how your skin appeared paler tonight. Dark and blue-hued eyes focused on Shoko. Her dark brown eyes examined you as she would a patient.

The three of them reached the same conclusion: you were exhausted, burning the candle at both ends. They knew very well how seriously you took your job; your work ethic was nothing to be sneezed at. No matter how sick or tired you were, you constantly pushed yourself to do more, to provide for them. Your motivation was fueled by positive forces, and there was nothing wrong with being driven by a goal.

However, the moment your goal began to run you down, that’s when you had a problem. You needed a break—some time to rest properly and recuperate. The three of them set their plan into action just with mirror eye contact.

“All right,” Suguru stood, collecting the dishes off the table, “Satoru and I will clean the kitchen. Shoko, why don't you take our sweet girl and get her relaxed?”

“Oh, don't be silly, I can help.” You followed them, collecting dishes that were snatched away from you by Satoru. “Hey, I can help!”

Shoko gently grabbed your hand, her slender, delicate fingers interlacing with yours, pulling you towards the bedroom. “It’s not a matter of you being able to help or not; we all know you’re perfectly capable of that.” Shoko gently squeezed your hand before pushing you back against the bed. “It’s more of a matter that we want to take care of you.” Those same soft fingers that had gently held your hand began working at the buttons of your blouse. “So please don’t fight us on this. You’re exhausted.” Your chest moved up and down, your steady breathing quickening as she exposed your torso. “Just lay back and relax.”

A breathless sigh escaped you as her soft hands groped your breasts in both hands, squeezing the soft mounds. “A-alright, then, let me touch you too.” You reached for her breasts, her nipples erect, peeking through the thin fabric of her white t-shirt. Your fingers just grazed over the fabric, straining against her hardening buds, when she pulled back, out of your reach. “Shoko, why are—” Her lips met yours in a soft, delicate kiss, one that emanated her true intent and desires.

”Have you been hanging out with those two morons too much?” Soft fingers, unclasp the hook in the front of your bra. “What part of ‘lay back and relax’ did you not understand?” Warm caresses of your girlfriend's skin felt like a burning fire over your tingling nipples.

“But I hate not making you feel good.”

“Baby,” Shoko chastised, leaning down, gently flicking her tongue over one of your nipples. “You make our lives comfortable; you do so much for us.” She kitten-licked one of the buds, nearly sending you off the bed. “There will be plenty of other times for you to join in. For tonight, relax and enjoy being a pillow princess.”

You were hesitant to listen to her, but as you relaxed against the bed, you realized just how tired you were. Laying back, your head cradled by the pillow alleviated some of the throbbing pain in your upper back. Plus, you weren’t often told to be a pillow princess, to lose yourself in the pleasure. This might be precisely what you needed tonight.

Without any further protest, you melted against the bed, your hand gently running through Shoko’s long, silky hair as she suckled and nibbled at your nipples while her hands massaged your breasts. I felt so good to be touched so gently. It was a drastic contrast to the boys, who roughly groped and nipped at your sensitive breasts. No matter how many times they saw your breasts, they were still the teenage boys you met nearly a decade ago. Breasts were, and always would be, some of their favorite things. Shoko, on the other hand, knew what felt good, how to get those little moans and whimpers to escape your mouth. If the woman was given the chance, she very well could make you orgasm from your nipples alone one day.

”Oooh my god, S-Sho—” That day was today, “Shoko, f-feels so good, really good.” Your nails gently grazed her scalp before you tugged on the strands of her hair. “H-Holy shit.”

Your girlfriend giggled, sending vibrations to stimulate your already sensitive nipples. “Yeah? Feel good—“ her pink tongue swirling tantalizingly slow around them, “so good you’re going to cum like this?” A tiny whimper was the only response she received. “Such a good girl for me. Go ahead, baby.” She groped both your breasts, pushing them together, allowing her to suck and nibble at both your nipples at once. “Cum for me.”

Shoko pressed her knee against your clothed center, and that was all you needed to cum. “N-Nggh! C-cumming~ S-Sho! Fuck!” you withered and squirmed, your hips rocking g against her knee, extending the sweet pleasurable waves that rocked you to your core.

She was watching you get off from just the brush of her knee, and her mouth on your tits had Shoko giggling softly. Your face was twisted with pleasure, slowly shifting into a more lax face as you finished riding the waves. Once your heavy breathing turned into soft, content sighs, she pulled back with a grin. She’d like to see the boys try and get you off solely from your tits. Because she knew neither had the patience or skills for that.

“Good job, Shoko.” Your eyes fluttered open as the bed shifted. “Got her nice and relaxed for us.” Shoko sat back, watching as Suguru and Satoru crawled up the bed. “How are you feeling, sweetheart, better?” Satoru hummed as he unzipped your skirt, tugging it down.

“Mhmm, a lot better.” You lifted your ass off the bed. Allowing Suguru to tug your thigh-high stockings down. “Sho always takes good care of us.”

“Mmm,” larger hands forced your legs apart, “I can see that.” Suguru hummed, trailing a finger up and down over the wet spot on your panties. “She made you cum, and you did such a good job.” His fingers hooked under the lace hem and tugged them down, throwing them somewhere across the room.

Suguru’s fingers pulled your wet folds apart, admiring the slick coating of your lips and how your arousal seeped out of your tight entrance. His thumb pulled the hood over your clit back just enough, allowing him to rub sweet, gentle circles around the bundle of nerves. While he teased your clit Satoru nestled himself between your legs, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs up to your dripping sex.

“Mmm, I was wanting dessert.” His hot breath teased your twitching cunt. “Thanks for the meal, sweetheart.” His tongue dipped out, tracing teasing circles of your entrance. His wet tongue and Suguru’s thumb had you gasping, arching off the sheets. Your hips jolted forward, silently begging for more. “So fuckin’ needy~” Satoru growled into your pussy. “Normally, I’d make you beg, but you’ve been working so hard you deserve a reward.” His tongue dipped past your tight entrance, gently swirling it as he licked at your inner walls.

With Satoru’s tongue spearing you, working the muscle inside your pussy, Suguru takes the chance to lean down, kissing and sucking at your swollen nipples. “Fuck, you sound so pretty; make more sounds.” His teeth gently graze over the bud. The sudden sensation made your body jerk forward, here widening as his skilled mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking on it hard.

“Suguru,” Shoko sits on your other side, “try swirling it gently~ like this.” A raspy sigh shakes through your entire body as Shoko demonstrates her technique on your other nipple. “This gets her going.”

“Oooh~ I see now.” The dark-haired man watched Shoko closely, nodding as he observed her momentum. “So I need to do—“ his eyes meet yours as he flattens his tongue, “—this?” His tongue matches Shoko’s face as pressure, sending tingles coursing straight to your pussy, where you clench around Satoru’s skillful tongue.

Blue eyes widen as feeling the gentle spasms of your cunt on his tongue. Your wetness seeped out, coating his tongue, mouth, and chin. “Mmmphmm~ yeah.” His voice is hoarse with unfiltered, pure need. “She fucking likes it~ her cunts hugging my tongue, keep it going.”

Hearing the filthy words, Satoru spoke motivated his best friend. Suguru kept his ministrations up, his eyes darting between Shoko and back to you, doing his best to keep up with her pace, mirroring her movements to the exact inch. In turn, Shoko’s hand dipped down, pressing gently on your lower abdomen.

“S-Shiiit!” You hissed, lifting your head an inch, watching as your three beautiful partners worshiped you. “Ooooh haaah!” You arched, squirmed, and twitched on Satoru’s tongue. Your partner's fingers, tongues, and lips moved faster as you screamed, one hand gripping the sheet as your other hand thrust into Satoru’s hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as you rocked against his face.

“Good girl~” Suguru growled against your nipple. “Goood fuckin’ girl~ cum all over Satoru’s face.”

Shoko nodded her head in agreement, her hand pressing harder against you. In doing so, she put pressure on the coil that was twisting and twisting inside you. Satoru groaned loudly inside of your pussy, feeling your walls twitch slightly around him; the tiny movements had his tongue lapping faster and harder, rubbing against your g-spot with every flick.

The combination of all three of their efforts made you scream and squirt. Coating Satoru’s tongue and face. Watching the stream of clear liquid coat, Satoru’s face had Suguru rubbing your clit faster. Extending your orgasm, making you squirt again again.

“Oooh, that’s it! Good fucking girl!” Suguru praised while Satoru glowered at you. Not in anger or disgust, but in feral fucking need. His mouth and tongue didn’t stop moving as he drank all of you in, working you over the dips and rises of the orgasm that nearly took your life. He only pulled away when you grimaced, shaking at the overstimulation of his mouth, and that only happened because you yanked him out of your pussy.

“Mmm~ such a good girl~” your slack mouth was suddenly being kissed by Shoko before Satoru crawled up, slotting his mouth against yours, allowing you to taste the sticky, tangy essence of your cum. “She was the best, wasn’t she, Satoru.”

The white-haired man pulled back, collecting the remaining traces of your cum with his pointer finger. “She’s the fucking best. No questions asked.” You lazily watched as he offered his finger to Suguru.

“Oooh, thank you.” Dark eyes trailed over you before he smirked, gently wrapping his hand around Satoru’s wrist and leading his finger into his open mouth. You choked on a breath as you watched Suguru bob his head up and down Satoru’s finger, ensuring all of your juices were clean. “Mhmm, so sweet. Shoko, have a taste.” Your girlfriend grinned slowly, leaning over your spent body, kissing Suguru with full tongue to get a taste of you. Their tongues swirled and massaged the other for what seemed like an eternity before they broke the kiss with a string of saliva and your cum connecting their tongues. “Isn’t she delicious?”

“She’s sweeter than the peach sake from dinner.”

With a gargled moan, your head fell back against the pillows as your lovers all leaned over to examine your face. Your pale skin from earlier was flushed a darker shade, your eyes were hazy and distant, and if this were an anime, they were sure you’d be spurting a nosebleed right about now. The trio exchanged knowing glances and gentle smiles. You did so much for them. The least they could do was give you a proper welcome home.

[verstappen-cult]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 03. THE DRAMA

PREV. PART | NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing and a tiny bit of angst because why not. time jump of a month approx.

INSTAGRAM POST

📍 LONDON, ENGLAND — JUN 27, 2023

Liked by alex_albon, landonorris and 897,455 others

yourusername i kinda like it here. ⛳️

view all 7,637 comments

user66 uh excuse me? the second slide???

user67 IS THAT CHARLES ???? user68 I THINK SO

alex_albon i feel betrayed.

yourusername stop being so dramatic

user69 my parents are together i still can’t believe it

user70 oh my god okay it’s happening

user71 everybody stay calm OH MY GOD user72 are they together? user71 girl go on twitter and see

landonorris let’s play and see who’s better

yourusername me ofc

charles_leclerc ❤️

user73 relationship goals

user74 lol we don’t even know if they’re dating user75 they kissed in front of thousand of people AND on live tv what are you talking about

user76 he’s too good for her

user77 who is she anyway. user78 stop being so childish, he’s never gonna date u

user79 who wouldn’t want to date her i mean just look at her

user80 all these people saying charles is too good for her like ??? SHE’S too good for him

user81 she will get bored in a few days mark my words

danielricciardo Ok but who won?

charles_leclerc i won! yourusername charlie don’t lie maxverstappen1 I don’t believe anything he says ever since I won fair and square playing FIFA and he threw the controller at me. landonorris he did that to you too? pierregasly that’s nothing. he threw a padel racket at my head, i still don’t remember anything from that day. charles_leclerc ffs shut up yourusername leave him alone you bullies

user82 i love how all the drivers are calling charles out lol

Y/N’S iMESSAGE

“that’s not how you make pasta!” you’re dying with laughter at seeing charles trying to cook.

“i asked you if i could cook!” charles can’t help but join you in your laughter, leaving the burned pasta aside.

“because you said you knew how to!”

“you better not believe anything i say.” he takes a sip of wine. the one he brought alongside the beautiful flowers that are now adorning your terrace.

“not even when you say how much you like me?” you pout, looking at him beneath your eyelashes.

charles walks the short distance to where you are sitting in the kitchen counter and you happily make room for him between your legs, arms finding your waist in no time.

“you should a hundred percent believe that.”

“mh i don’t know,” you tease, playing with his soft hair. god, you love his hair so much. “i think you should show me.”

“oh i’m definitely going to do that.”

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by sabrinacarpenter, gigihadid and 566,328 others

yourusername 💐

view all 8,771 comments

user83 that’s one hell of a bouquet

user84 charles knows what he’s doing

gigihadid Can’t wait to see you this weekend!

❤️ by author

user85 i wanna be her so bad :(

user86 If it weren’t for Charles nobody would know who she is. He put her on the map.

user87 this is a grown ass man by the way user 88 i swear to god men are so in love with charles is getting kinda scary

carmenmmundt What a beautiful picture 💛

user89 tired of her comment section being all about charles

user90 fr like they forget she’s her own person user91 I just know she doesn’t like this at all, she’s always speak up about these kind of things user92 if this were to happen the other way around everyone would be insulting her

user93 CHARLES IS WITH HER RN OHMYGOD

user94 what are you taking about user93 LOOK AT CHARLES STORIES HE LITERALLY JUST POSTED THE PICTURES user95 if it wasn’t for the close up of the flowers we wouldn’t even know they’re together user96 he def did it on purpose

user97 the boys, the girls, the gays, they all like Y/N

INSTAGRAM STORIES

landonorris has replied to your story

landonorris: *chandler bing’s voice* can I BE any more obvious? charles_leclerc: just stop watching friends, i beg you

maxverstappen1 has replied to your story

maxverstappen1: Uh, so that’s why you wouldn’t travel with me. Interesting. charles_leclerc: can i use air max for the next race? 🥺

pierregasly has replied to your story

pierregasly: you guys make me sick charles_leclerc: Y/N says to shut up pierregasly: 🤮🤮🤮

yourusername has replied to your story

yourusername: i like this soft launch/hard launch thing charles_leclerc: i bet you like me more yourusername: debatable charles_leclerc: i can make you change your mind 😏

TWITTER — JUN 28, 2023

TWITTER — JUN 30, 2023

TWITTER — JUL 02, 2023

ALEX’S iMESAGGE

TAGLIST (bold means i couldn’t tag you) — @leclerc16s. @willowpains. @berrnuu. @minkyungseokie. @1655clean. @sassyheroneckgiant. @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir. @nessacarty1. @a1leexxa. @storminacloud. @lovstappen. @littlehoneyfreak. @paintedbypoetry. @thatoneembarrasingmoment.

note: hiii besties, take this as an early new years present! this was supposed to be posted after dec 31st but couldn’t leave it in the drafts. there is at least one or two more chapters, so if you still wanna be added to the taglist let me know! <3

[elliespassagerprincess]

pls make reader and milf!abby have a baby together 😭😭😭

Baby - part 1/3 (Milf!Abby x reader)

This is going to be a 3 part series! Part 2 will be released soon:)

Milf abby: Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

baby series: part 1 part 2 part 3

masterlist

Authors note: i'm back fr, i finally finished with exams and I'm here to spam with fics again

☆ Milf Abby who was happy with the life the two of you were already living but something was missing.

☆Milf Abby who always thought you were good with kids

☆ Milf Abby who never really thought about having another kid until she married you.

☆ Milf Abby who thinks about it a little too much, if she has to be honest

☆ Milf Abby who never brought up the conversation of having another baby even though you were hinting at having another kid.

"Abby isn’t this cute" you said with a pout as you handed her a onesie you bought for Mel's baby shower.

"Abby look" you pointed at Aubrey playing with one of your collogues newborn baby: "she’d be such a good big sister"

☆ Milf Abby who would only nod or smile at whatever you had to say involving babies because she was terrified.

☆ Milf Abby who was asked about when the two of you were gonna have a baby.

"So..." Nora started

"yeah?" the blonde looked at her with a raised eyebrow

"when are you and your girl gonna have a baby?"

suddenly Abby's body went cold, she could hear her heart beating out of her chest and she silently stared at Nora with wide eyes.

"We um-"

"Abby having another baby?"

They heard a voice talk from behind them. Both of the girls heads snapped into the direction of the voice and there stood Mel, still heavily pregnant.

"When you have a kid you should be able to play with them, and to run around- don’t you think you passed that stage already? Don’t you have back pain or something?"

"Mel" Nora said sternly.

"no Nora she has to hear the truth" Mel replied.

Abby met the eyes of the brunette and Mel gave her a sympathetic smile: "by the time your baby is ten you'd almost be sixty, you'd be her grandma Abby"

☆ Milf Abby who agreed with Mel.

☆ Milf Abby who avoided you for a few days because she felt like she was keeping you back in life.

"Can you shut the fuck up" she said with a frustrated sigh.

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. You knew there was something wrong due to her distant behavior recently. You thought she was stressed, tired maybe.

“Abby I just asked if you wanted something to eat”

Abby looked at you with a blank facial expression, before she looked down to the floor, brining her head into her hands.

You walked towards her putting your hand on her shoulder “talk to me abs”

you felt her muscles tense underneath your touch “c’mon Abby you can tell me anything”

she finally looked up from her hands, and she made brief eye contact with you before she looked away once again

“I-“

“spit it out”

“I don’t think we should have a baby”

“what?”

“listen baby” she started, and she gently took your hands into hers as she saw your eyes fill with tears

“I did some thinking, and I don’t think we should have a baby because I’m happy just with you and Aubrey. Don’t you think another baby will complicate our life?”

You stared at her in shock, how could she not tell you about this earlier?

“Abby you knew. You fucking knew I wanted to have kids, and you said you wanted the same. Now you want to change your mind?”

“Can I not change my mind?”

“You have every right to, but you know how I felt about having kids. You know that I've always wanted to be a mom"

She knew that. She knew all of this.

“aren’t you already a mom to Aubrey? Are you saying my daughter isn't good enough?”

“I did not fucking say that and you know that”

“but you meant it”

“fuck you” was all you said as you got up and walked towards the room the two of you shared.

She doesn’t know why she said that.

God Abby fucking knows what she said was wrong. It's not that she doesn’t want to have kids, its just she knew Mel had a point. She would be in her sixties by the time your baby would be done with high school.

Maybe she was too old after all.

☆ Milf Abby who had to listen to you sob throughout the night.

☆ Milf Abby who tried talking to you the next morning.

Abby let out a groan as she heard Aubrey giggle. She brought her hands up to her eyes as she opened them.

The light has always been bright in the living, but jesus she didn’t know they were this fucking bright.

Abby winched as she sat up from the couch, her limbs felt like they were burning. Her eyes fell on you and Aubrey. The two of you were eating and smiling, and as she took in the scene and she knew it was fucked up of her to say what she said yesterday.

Abby got up, still feeling stiff but she made her way towards the two people who she loved the most.

Aubrey gave her a bug smile and muttered a quick "good morning mommy" before she ran to her room. She smiled at her daughters before she focused her attention towards you.

You didn't even look at her.

She felt sick to her stomach.

“I left some eggs for you” was all you said before you walked out the kitchen.

Abby really fucked up.

☆ Milf Abby who tried getting your attention all week but you ignored her.

☆ Milf Abby who tried talking to you but all you replied with was “I don’t want to talk”

☆ Milf Abby who finally had enough and she decided that she should tell you what actually happened.

☆ Milf Abby who showed up to your classroom once again.

The room was empty and you stood with your back facing away from the door. Abby quietly walked towards you.

“hi”

she watched as your body jerked “jesus Abby I told you that you should start knocking” you said out of breath.

"Sorry" she mumbled

"can we talk?" she watched you facial expression turn cold.

“sure”

“thank you”

The room was filled a awkward silence, it was tense and it felt suffocating.

“talk Abby, I have things to do”

“I'm sorry”

“is sorry all you can fucking say?”

Abby wanted to bang her head against a wall.

“I want to have a baby with you”

“aw you changed your mind? What happened? Did I force you Abby? Are you sure you want this Abby? Oh wait! I don’t think I want to be a mom anymore, since you said that I m practically going to replace Aubrey. Oops let me-"

"it was Mel"

"what did Mel do?"

And the truth came out. Abby told you everything she said, how I made her feel.

You gave her a sympathetic smile before you spoke again: "You need to stop letting people tell you you're too old Abby. You keep losing opportunities, you keep giving yup your dreams, as soon as someone says something. You need to learn that you should stop listing to what others have to say about your age"

“I know but its hard” Abby muttered.

You got up and you walked towards her and you pulled her into a tight up “I know, but we’ll work though it. I’ll help you with whatever and if you don’t want to have a baby its ok-"

"no no I want to have a baby. I want to have one with you"

a smile spread onto your face.

"can we have a baby?" Abby asked.

"if you start working on your self confidence and you stop listing to what bitches have to say about you I will then we can have a baby"

"yes ma'am, i'll do whatever you say"

"one more thing Abby"

"yeah?"

"Don't ever talk to me in that way again. What you said really hurt my feelings, and i understand you were hurting too but it didn't give you the right to talk to me in that way. I love Aubrey more than anything so don't say that again"

"I'm so sorry baby i really am, i there anything i can do to make it up to you?"

"You can start by getting me chocolate milk"

☆ Milf Abby who made it up to you by apologizing over a million times, and by doing every single thing you said.

☆ Milf Abby who immediately started looking for doctors and baby names.

☆ Milf Abby who blocked Mel because fuck her and her fucking opinions.

☆ Milf Abby who did started working on her self confidence and she immediately felt better about everything.

☆ Milf Abby who was excited to have a baby with you.

<3

My pookies (the taglist): @lia-winther @hellorai

[bruh-changbin]

patience is a virtue

part 3 to invasion of privacy series

pairing: roommate!heeseung x afab reader

genre: smut, angst, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: unprotected sex (be safe), use of the pull out method (do not do this), piv, tit sucking, nipple play, mutual masturbation, some indecent public acts, mentions of vomit, alcolohol consumption, heeseung is so bad at communicating it is actually physically painful, jake is still annoying and hoon is a film bro oh god

word count: 8.6k

a/n: pls don't gut me ik this took forever but i hope its worth it at least lawl enjoy yourselves (but not too much......) also someone needs to take ellipses away from me. also not proofread

read part 1 and part 2 first or else this won't make a ton of sense

[shithead]: you guys wanna come to the cave to play smash? i got some more of that indica and jay finally cleaned his bong 🙄

[grandfather]: come on dude it wasn’t even that dirty

[cullen tease]:..... no comment

[cullen tease]: but yea i’m down

[grandfather]: what about heeseung?

[shithead]: idk… it’s just been radio silence from him for like 3 days

[cullen tease]: yea what happened to him?

[grandfather]: well the last time we talked to him was right before he hung out with y/n sooo

[shithead]: no way

[shithead]: do you think she fucked him so hard he passed out for three whole days?

[cullen tease]: shut the fuck up jaeyun

[shithead]: i’m just saying!!! if i had a hot roommate like that i would gladly let her destroy me

[cullen tease]: that’s because you’re a man whore

[grandfather]: come on guys cut it out, you know how heeseung tends to get

[grandfather]: emotional

[cullen tease]: that’s the understatement of the year

[shithead]: wait what if…….

[shithead]: she killed him

[grandfather]: you’re an idiot

[shithead]: it’s a possibility! what if it’s like a jennifer’s body type situation

[cullen tease]: hold up, you’ve seen jennifer’s body?

[shithead]: duh… it has megan fox in it

[grandfather]: okay let's not stray from the situation at hand

[shithead]: wait hoon why is it so surprising that i’ve seen jennifer’s body?

[cullen tease]: i just didn’t peg you as the type of guy to enjoy films like that

[shithead]: what the fuck does that mean

[grandfather]: guys

[cullen tease]: dude come on, your favourite movie is grown ups 2

[shithead]: what’s wrong with grown ups 2? 

[cullen tease]: what’s wrong with it is that it’s trash

[shithead]: are you fr? it is a cinematic masterpiece and i don’t appreciate you acting all high and mighty because you’re a fucking film major who likes boring and sad movies like the godfather or whatever

[grandfather]: can you two shut the fuck up? we need to figure out what’s going on with hee

[adult virgin]: i’m not dead

[cullen tease]: heeseung!

[grandfather]: heeseung!

[shithead]: heeseung! you’re alive!!!

[grandfather]: how you doin’ buddy?

[shithead]: yea what went down with you and sexy roomie at the drive-in? i just know the two of you got up to some freaky shit

[grandfather]: jaeyun i swear to god

[adult virgin]: i don’t wanna talk about it

[cullen tease]: uh oh

[shithead]: oh shit

[grandfather]: oh jeez

[shithead]: jay you question why we call you grandfather when you say shit like ‘oh jeez’

[grandfather]: now’s not the time jake

[cullen tease]: come on heeseung, i’m sure it wasn’t that bad

[adult virgin]: i’m never going on a date again

[shithead]: wait i thought you said it wasn’t a date???

[grandfather]: jake you are one text away from getting kicked out of this group chat

[cullen tease]: i say we kick him out now

[adult virgin]: can you guys please stop blowing up my phone? 

[shithead]: no can do my friend

[shithead]: it’s time for an intervention

[adult virgin]: i’m good

[adult virgin]: the last thing i need right now is you guys screaming at me while i’m trying to cope

[shithead]: too late, jay’s already got the car running. i’m bringing weed!

[cullen tease]: i’ll bring the funyuns

[shithead]: see you soon hee!

[adult virgin]: guys fr i just wanna be alone

[adult virgin]: guys?

bang bang bang!!!

heeseung recoils when he hears his friends banging on his front door a mere 11 minutes after they said they were coming; a mere 11 minutes after he explicitly told them not to. he recoils even more when he hears you open the door for them. 

“oh, hey y/n…” jay does nothing to try to hide his discontent when he sees you open the door and not his heartbroken friend. 

jake, who’s lowkey wanted to bang you since heeseung first moved in with you, pays no mind to his friend's wariness and envelops you in a rib-crushing hug whilst shouting “i haven’t seen you in forever!!!!!”

“hey guys!” you say with a soft smile before patting jake on the shoulder in an attempt to let him know that he’s stealing all of your oxygen, “come in, can i get you anything?”

jay just scoffs, “no thanks y/n, we don’t need anything from you.”

a somewhat puzzled look makes its way onto your face, “ok… well heeseungs in his room if that’s what you’re here for.” you nonchalantly motion down the hall before returning to the kitchen, leaving the three boys alone in the foyer. 

“damn jay, you could’ve been a little nicer. we still don’t know what even went down between them, remember?” sunghoon murmurs while leading the way to heeseungs bedroom. 

“i guess we’re about to find out,” jay holds his breath before tentatively knocking on heeseungs door before opening it and stepping inside.

when heeseung sees his friends open his door and step into his room, he rolls over so his back is facing them. he thought he was very clear that he is not in the mood to talk. nevertheless, the three of them stride into his room like a boy band and close the door behind them. heeseung hopes they pay no mind to the piles and piles of bunched up kleenex littering his room that are all shrivelled up from his tears.  

“heeeyyy buddy!” jay croons to his dishevelled friend as if he’s talking to a puppy or small child. 

“damnnnn hee, that must’ve been some good pussy if it’s got you acting like this!!!” jake exclaims, which earns him an elbow in the ribs. 

“didn’t i tell you guys not to come? i’m trying to latibulate in peace,” heeseung groans, his voice so monotonous and strained it sounds almost robotic.  

“come on, you didn’t seriously think we were gonna listen to you, right?” sunghoon says matter-of-factly, his ebony bangs covering his eyes and making him look eerily mysterious. 

heeseung just sighs. he feels his mattress shift underneath him and looks over to see that jay has taken a seat on the edge of his bed, his eyes full of what appears to be mostly concern, some disgust as he swipes a couple of dirty tissues onto the floor (he tries to cover this up with a crooked smile).

“sooo what happened?” jake breaks the silence and asks the question that’s sitting on the tip of everyone’s tongue. heeseung, now in a seated position, places his head between his knees and does his best to swallow his shame before retelling the event that took place a few days prior. 

“well, we went to the drive-in…” he starts, voice muffled due to his head hanging low, “and at first it was fine, but then… an… intimate scene came on.” 

sunghoon hangs his head at this, seemingly knowing where the story is going. 

heeseung can’t bare to look at his friends faces as he proceeds, his cheeks ablaze with embarrassment as he recounts his unintentional virginity reveal, the two of you freaking it whilst surrounded by other movie goers, and the painful, painful silence that enveloped him for the rest of the night. 

“and then she just… didn’t say anything. why the fuck didn’t she say anything???!!!!” he whines, his tone a complete 180 from what it was when he first spoke to his friends a short 3 minutes ago.

seemingly at a loss for words, jay just rests his hand on his friends shoulder, offering a gentle pat while sunghoon mumbles a quiet but heart-felt ‘beats me’ from where he’s leaning against heeseungs wall. 

“females are so difficult to understand.”

“don’t say females jake, it makes you sound like an incel,” sunghoon suspires, the frayed ends of his hair fluttering in the process, “maybe she just thought you wanted to get it over with? or that you wanted something casual?”

“i don’t do casual.”

“okay, and how the fuck is she supposed to know that?” sunghoon retorts, defending you since you’re unable to defend yourself - jake subtly nods in agreeance. 

“i don’t know! she’s way more emotionally intelligent than all of us combined so i thought that maybe she’d… pick up on it or something.” heeseung feels his energy depleting and he longs to simply curl up under his duvet and sleep the rest of the day away - or maybe the whole week actually. 

“heeseung,” jay sympathizes, “we know you like y/n… but maybe it's just not gonna work out.”

jake interjects, “yea, and if she can’t see what an absolute package you are right now then maybe she never will! it’s her loss really,” he nods enthusiastically while looking at jay and sunghoon, prompting them to do the same - they do.

heeseung, with swollen cheeks and a bruised heart, can only offer a quiet “thanks guys” while wishing for the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes to go away. he knows that moving on from you, whilst being extremely difficult, is the best thing to do.

after heeseungs feeble thanks, the room falls silent. so silent only that the hum of the a/c is the only detectable sound - that, and the steady inhales and exhales of the 4 boys trapped in heeseungs stuffy bedroom. someone exhales before the shuffling of feet and the creaking of floorboards can be heard. heeseung hardly has any time to react before something (or someone?) is flying through the air and is on track to land directly on top of him.

“DOG PILE ON HEESEUNG!!!” jake shouts while full-on launching himself onto heeseungs body, effectively squashing him into his mattress. the weight of his friend knocks the wind out of him and heeseung barely manages to croak “jaeyun what the fuc-” before the weight is doubled, then tripled as sunghoon and jay follow suit.

it’s hard to tell whose limbs belong to who as heeseungs friends tussle his hair and squeeze his cheeks (and crush his rib cage, but that’s besides the point) in an attempt to get their glum, heartbroken friend to cheer up. and, for the first time in days, a smile appears on heeseungs face.

order confirmed. you will be updated when your food is en route for delivery.

as if on cue, heeseung’s stomach lets out a cavernous growl. he pats it comfortingly as if to say ‘it’s ok, soon you’ll be filled to the brim with an ice cold baja blast and 2 crunch wrap supremes. just hold on a little longer.’

nothing quite like eating away all of your sorrows.

it’s easy to forget how pivotal a kitchen is in one’s everyday life until it’s stripped away from you like a baby from its mother. ok, maybe not stripped away. more like consciously avoiding it to make sure that you don’t have an awkward run in with your roommate who performed oral sex on you several days ago and is now sending you mixed signals. the thought of having to hold an actual conversation with you makes heeseungs skin crawl. 

he’s been successfully avoiding you for 4 days now, ensuring that he only leaves his room when absolutely necessary - and only doing so when he’s positive that you’re in your room or out of the house. before exiting his bedroom he spends minutes with his ear pressed up to his flimsy bedroom door, making sure the coast is clear before making a break for it.

one may think he’s being extra. just talk to her for crying out loud! but heeseung has managed to convince himself that you think he’s bottom of the barrel scum; the last piece of bread that always gets tossed; the mosquito on your wall that you whack with a rolled up newspaper as soon as you see it.

trash! 

and so, he spends his days rotting away in his bedroom, his mattress now donning a permanent indent of the shape of his body; his trash can overflowing with wrappers from taco bell and mcdonalds; his laptop struggling to keep up with all of the mind-numbing streaming of shitty television he’s been doing. 

one time he gave into his hopeless romantic side and watched the notebook but it made him cry so hard he woke up with a migraine. another time he got an ad for top gun: maverick and he wanted to die. stupid top gun. stupid tom cruise. stupid miles teller with his stupid moustache. now, he sticks to scrolling through tik tok and watching reruns of below deck sailing yacht and survivor. 

he can feel his eyes starting to get heavy when a vibration from his phone jolts him back to reality, scrambling to find the device that he so mindlessly tossed underneath his comforter. his fingers finally come in contact with it, and he peers at the lit-up screen.

your food has been delivered. receipt/tip available.

yes! it feels as if his stomach has been quite literally eating itself for the past half hour, so heeseung leaps up at the prospect of soon having food in his belly. in fact he’s so excited at the idea of his taco bell order waiting for him that the thought of doing his ritualistic check to make sure he won’t have a run-in with you completely slips his mind.

so, when he swings open his door and bolts down the hallway, head filled with nothing but thoughts of chowing down on a tortilla filled with meat, lettuce and cheese, his heart practically falls to his stomach when instead he almost literally runs into you. you, holding a glass of water with your eyes wide like a fawn, taking in heeseungs dishevelled appearance after not seeing him for over half a week. 

shit. 

shitshitshitshitshitshit.

this was not supposed to happen. 

“heeseung!” you say with enthusiasm (and a bit of concern).

it is in this very moment that heeseung fully understands what a deer must feel like when falling in front of the headlights of an oncoming vehicle - frozen.

“uh…. heeey y/n.” his throat feels like it’s about to close. is he having an allergic reaction to you? 

seeing as plan a (get his food and go back to his room while avoiding you all together) has fallen through, he attempts to resort to plan b: grab taco bell bag and run like hell back to the safety of his bedroom. 

unfortunately plan b also falls through, for once he worms himself to the front door and grabs the slightly warm paper bag and drink left on his porch he whips around only to see you standing in front of him, blocking his path to the safe haven that is his musty bedroom, (he’s reminded of admiral ackbar in episode vi of star wars - ‘it’s a trap!!!’).

“wait, can we talk?” your face is one of disquietude, “i feel like you’ve been… avoiding me.”

upon hearing your concerns, heeseung does what he’s best at - playing dumb. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

your face quickly changes, brows furrowed and eyes slightly squinted as if to say ‘are you shitting me?’. in a split second it seems as if you’re able to read heeseung like an open book, much to his dismay, before you open your mouth to speak again. 

“did… did what i do at the drive-in make you uncomfortable?”

“no…” more like what you didn’t do - profess your undying love and devotion to him with tears in your eyes while he reassures you that he feels the same way and the two of you ride off into the sunset on a horse and start a new life in venice or kyoto or somewhere romantic and secluded.  

“okay, so then why are you acting so weird?”

“i’m… stressed. sooo stressed. classes are killing me and i have a huge paper due soon.” liar. he’s excelling in all of his classes and doesn’t have anything due for another 5 days.

“oh, well what’s it about? maybe i can help you!” you offer while taking a step towards him. usually his heart would be leaping at the prospect of the two of you having some one on one time even if it is for a class, but right now that’s the last thing he needs. 

“it’s about….. shakespeare.”

“shakespeare? i thought you were an engineering major-”

“it’s an elective. i’m very interested in classical literature.” no he’s not. 

“oh, nice. hey why are you talking so weirdly? you sound like siri when i ask her a question.”

that’s it. he needs to get out of this conversation before he raises any more suspicion. 

“i’m way deep into the academic headspace. speaking of,” he motions towards his bedroom door with his index finger, “i need to get back to work.” more like he needs to wallow in his own self-pity. 

“wait, can we talk more? i still feel like you’re not telling me something,” you say while looking like a kicked puppy, and heeseung tries to not fall into your glassy, pleading gaze.

“it’s fine y/n, i get it.” he thinks you’re the light of his life and you think of him as your loser roommate who was all whiny about being a virgin so you did what you needed to do to shut him up. case closed. 

“get… what?”

heeseung doesn’t respond, doesn’t give you the time of day. he simply exits the kitchen and closes his bedroom door behind him. he spares no final glance behind him because he knows the sight of you standing there with a hurt and perplexed look on your face will have him crawling back to you on his hands and knees. 

instead, he shuffles into bed and tries to focus on whatever he was watching on his laptop prior to the most painful conversation he’s ever had in his entire life, his now tepid crunch wrap sitting in his limp grasp. 

salty crocodile tears start rolling down his cheeks for the nth time this week. 

“i am gonna get sooo many bitches tonight.”

“you shouldn’t call women bitches jake, that’s rude.”

pre-gaming in the cave before going out is a must. the four guys play a couple rounds of pong and flip cup while jay and jake chug putrid pilsner’s and pabst blue ribbons while sunghoon and heeseung opt for a much more tame rum and coke. 

tonight he’s being dragged to a place he seldom ventures: a club.

heeseung doesn’t really like clubs.

he prefers bars where he can sit and drink and talk to his friends instead of clubs where he has to (attempt to) dance and drink and shout over the blasting music to communicate with anyone. alas, jake was adamant on going to this one particular place downtown where apparently he got with 3 different girls in one night (everyone knows that’s definitely not true, but they continue to humour him). 

furthermore, his friends have decided that the financial blow of cover fees and shots at a club is worth getting heeseung up and out of his frowsty bedroom that has somewhat turned into something you would see on an episode of hoarders, so tonight’s outing will be free (for him at least). 

“okay hee,” jake grabs his friend by the shoulders and shakes him aggressively, as if they’re two football players about to head onto the field, “gimme the game plan for tonight broski.”

“i’m gonna forget about y/n, and i’m gonna find a pretty girl,” heeseung says in the most sportsmanlike manner he can conjure up, “and i’m gonna fu…… i’m gonna make love to her.”

jake simply shakes his head in dismay, “no heeseung, you’re gonna fuck her. got it? go ahead, say it.”

“i’m gonna…” his neck feels like it’s flaring up, “i can’t say it, it feels rude and misogynistic.” 

“dude, girls like to get fucked. they think it’s hot!!! now say ‘fuck’,” jake attests before staring at heeseung expectantly. 

“okay………………. fuck.”

“hell yea bro! fuck!” jay joins in while clapping heeseung on the back in support. 

“yea, fuck!!!”

“FUCK!!!!!!” sunghoon joins as well. 

“FUUUUUUCK!!!” heeseung screams. the liquor in his bloodstream, while not copious, is making him feel fuzzy.

and finally, jake closes it out with, “LETS GO FUCK SHIT UP BROS!!!!!!” before storming out of the door with sunghoon following suit.

jay swings a beefy arm around heeseungs blocky shoulders and drags him along, the two of them soon catching up to hoon and jake who are whooping and hollering about god knows what. in the back of heeseungs mind he wonders what he’s gotten himself into.

immediately upon arrival heeseung is reminded once again of his detestment for clubs. they’re too loud and ho, and impersonal.

the floors and walls are shaking with some throwback early 2000’s pop song and after about 10 seconds the soles of his shoes are already covered in sticky syrup from spilled drinks. he follows his friends into the sea of people trying to get drunk or trying to get laid or both.

in the midst of the crowd he brushes shoulders with a guy he swears he’s seen before, a tall brute guy with blonde hair tied into a man bun and a red flannel hugging his shoulders (who wears a flannel to a club?), but he can’t quite remember when and where they’ve crossed paths before. 

as sunghoon shoulders his way to the bar to order a round of tequila shots, heeseung stays planted to his spot on the floor, his eyes scanning his surroundings and taking everything in to the best of his abilities considering that purple and blue LED lights are painting everyone and everything within the establishment. 

his eyes make their way from the bar to the dance floor to a section of stand-up tables, where he finds a pretty girl in leather pants and a cheetah print corset top staring right back at him. when their gaze’s connect she flashes him a small smile, which he returns.

“jake,” heeseung smacks his friend’s shoulder, “that girl won’t stop staring at me.”

“see hee! we told you you’d pull someone.”

he smirks, then panics, “what should i do?”

“what’s going on?” sunghoon turns around with four shooters balanced between his spindly ple fingers, each one filled with a menacing clear liquor that will ultimately decide his fate this evening. you’re not you when you’re sober but you’re you when you’re drunk!

jake grabs a shot greedily, like a leprechaun stumbling upon a pot of gold, “some chick is ogling at hee.”

sunghoon’s lip curls upwards, “lets go dawg!” he cheers while passing heeseung a shot as if it's a reward for receiving attention from a woman. 

heeseung stares at the tequila in the glass he’s holding with his thumb and index finger; it stares back at him. in one swift move he downs it, then does the same with jake’s, jay’s, and finally sunghoon’s, who all stare at him in disbelief. he tries his best to not make a sour face, but he can’t hold back the deep cough that leaps out of him as the tequila burns his throat on its way down his esophagus and into his stomach.

“wow, okay.” jay says in astonishment, which prompts him to start laughing; everyone else begins to laugh as well, including heeseung. 

“go talk to her shithead!” jake exclaims while shoving heeseung towards the mystery girl and her friends with much more force than necessary, making him stumble over his own feet much like bambi attempting to walk for the first time. 

when he’s close enough he flashes her a toothy grin, his eyes trained on hers; her pupils look like deep pools of ink in the scarcity of good lighting. she just looks at him, a pretty smile painted on her face that pushes the apples of her cheeks to the sky. 

“hey.”

“hi~”

“i’m heeseung.”

“okay heeseung, wanna dance?”

“uh sure!” he exclaims, albeit maybe a little too much excitement in his inflection. 

the cheetah girl doesn’t say anything, just grabs his hand by the wrist (and thank god his wrist because his palms are embarrassingly sweaty) and drags him in the general direction of the dance floor. before he becomes completely swallowed by the mass of swaying bodies, he catches sunghoon and jay giving him a thumbs up from across the room - jake is too busy making out with someone to do the same. 

heeseung feels the fabric of his shirt sticking to his chest and lower back as he gets mixed up with the plethora of other sweaty bodies, trying to move in a sensual yet confident way that hopefully impresses the pretty girl he’s praying he’ll go home with. with his nose tucked into the crook of her neck he rocks his body against hers to the beat of the music, his pelvis bumping against her ass methodically.

“you’re so cute!” she squeals at his awkward attempt to grind up on her.

dear god. when oh when will he ever the patronizing, dehumanizing, emasculating label of ‘cute’? cute is what you say when you see a nest of baby bunnies, or an elderly couple on a date. heeseung is a grown man, he should be called handsome, statuesque, sexy even!!!

nevertheless, heeseung attempts to not let cheetah girl’s comment sour his mood. she’ll see how manly he really is, he’ll show her. in fact he’ll show her right now!

in this very moment he discovers why alcohol has been gifted the name of liquid courage since before he can even process what he’s doing he’s pulling cheetah girl out of the stuffy crowd of inebriated club goers, dragging her to an empty bathroom stall, and placing his tequila coated lips on hers. 

she immediately reciprocates, because why else would she be giving him bedroom eyes across a crowded club if she didn’t want something along this vein to occur? despite being a virgin (? does getting your dick suck count as a loss of virginity?), he has made out with multiple girls on multiple different occasions prior to this one, so he lets his mouth and tongue and hands act on their own accord. 

it feels as if his brain is swimming inside of his skull, making all of his senses blurred and fuzzy like tv static. he feels a pair of teeth sinking into his bottom teeth and he groans, his eyes squeezing shut impossibly tighter and his fingers digging into cheetah girl’s hips. she emits and airy moan in response, allowing heeseung to slot his tongue against hers - he tastes the vodka mixed with cranberry juice she was drinking when he approached her on the inside of her mouth.

the tip of his nose continuously bumps against hers as he sloppy sucks on her tongue and her teeth, his lips soon detaching to make their way across her jaw and down her neck. there he sinks his canines into her skin, causing her to hiss in both pleasure and pain before exhaling blissfully, her hot breath fanning across heeseung face as he reverts to kissing her on the mouth once again. 

from the dj booth he hears the intro of a song that has his eyes shooting open - baby one more time by britney spears. the song that you alway play when you’re getting ready to go out, the song he chose to play during the car ride to the drive-in. he feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about the way you touched him that night, the way you wrapped your hand and lips around his cock without a second thought. his jaw slacks and his hands fall to his sides as his brain starts to move at a million miles per hour.

a mouth that’s not yours is pressed against his while a tongue that’s not yours slips inside and traces his teeth. heeseung can hear his pulse in his ears beating faster than the bass that vibrates the floors and the walls and the ceiling of the club that he now so desperately wishes he wasn’t in. a hand that isn’t yours pops the button of his jeans and slips past the waistband of his underwear. all he can think is how this feels so not… right. none of this is right!

without properly thinking he somewhat shoves the pretty but unknown girl off of him, prompting her to shout “what the fuck asshole??!!?” before storming out of the stall and off to find her friends to undoubtedly complain about what a selfish prick he is. but honestly, he doesn’t care. all he can think about is you and your touch and everything you encompass. 

with a considerable amount of shoving heeseung makes his way outside, paying no mind to the select people that shoot him dirty looks after getting elbowed in the side. too inebriated to consider ordering an uber or calling a cab, he begins the 20 minute trek back to his apartment where he’s praying that you’re still residing, likely settled in your bed reading a book or watching season 2 of the bear. the cool night air stings his lungs as he trips and stumbles on the concrete with every other step he takes on his way back home, his way back to you. 

being outside does absolutely nothing to sober heeseung up (especially considering that he downed 4 tequila shots not so long ago), and when the familiar front door of your shared rental house comes into view he practically runs to it, swinging it open and letting it bang against the wall before calling your name and jogging down the hallway. his shoes clomp against the hardwood floors as he approaches your door, the soft yellow glow emanating from underneath it the only source of light in the dark hallway.  

“y/n?” heeseung barges into your bedroom, almost ripping your door off of its hinges in the process. once inside he sees you perched on your bed, your sheets pulled over your bent knees and a book with a splotchy blue cover in your grasp. 

“what are you doing?” he questions you breathlessly. 

your glance shifts from heeseung to the open book in your hands then back to heeseung, “reading?”

“oh, duh,” he pretends to facepalm while chuckling, your eyes still trained on his with a glint of scepticism. the gravity of his situation starts to dawn on him and he braces himself against your doorframe in an attempt to get the floor to stop spinning.

you furrow your brows and stare at heeseung pointedly, “are you drunk?”

“a little,” he hiccups, “actually a lot, but that’s besides the point.” finally he feels the courage he had 20 minutes ago at the club surge through him once more and he stumbles into your room, stopping at the corner of your bed and gazing down on you like you’re an ant.

“i have to tell you something.”

“okay.”

silence. 

“...what do you wanna tell me?”

“oh, right.” come on heeseung, it’s now or never. he decides to take a seat on the edge of your bed so he’s looking directly at you, and he picks at the holes in his jeans as he ponders how to start. 

“uhh… i really like the way you fold the dish towels in the kitchen.”

a look of shock makes its way onto your face - you definitely weren’t expecting him to say that of all things. before you can utter a word, a sound even, heeseung starts to ramble.

“and you smell really nice. like, really nice. and i think you’re really pretty, e-even when you’re angry, like when i wake you up to ask for a ride to campus when i’ve missed the bus. and i like how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you’re focused, and how you ruffle my hair when i say something stupid… which is a lot.”

he pauses briefly to catch his breath, then continues on, “and i don’t let anyone eat my lucky charms except for you, n-not even my friends when they spend the night, because i know they remind you of being a kid and that you like to pick out the clover shaped marshmallows. and i like the way you draw smiley faces in the condensation on the mirror in the bathroom after you shower, and the way you exclusively listen to stevie nicks when you’re cleaning, an-”

“heeseung,” you interject, causing him to draw in a shaky inhale, “what are you trying to say?”

“what i’m trying to say is that i lo-” nope!!!!!! waaay too soon. luckily even drunk heeseung can recognize the damage an actual profession of love would cause. thank god he caught himself. 

“i really really like you, ok? and i feel like you just see me as a-” here come the waterworks, “as a looooserrrrrrrr,” try as he might, heeseung can’t stop the pathetic, drunken sobs that escape his trembling lips. 

“oh god, heeseung-” your feeble voice does little to drown out the wails emanating from the drunken boy perched on the corner of your bed, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed pink; you’re unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying. 

half a week of pent up confusion and sadness and heartbreak escapes him in the form of reverberating howls, his shoulders shaking even after you place a comforting hand on his back in an attempt to calm him down. 

“and when you did… that at the drive-in, i thought that maybe meant that you liked me too.” he sniffles before wiping his nose with his sleeve; you reach over to your night stand and hand him a tissue. 

“oh jesus, i’m so sorry hee i didn’t mean to confuse you i just-” you take a second to collect your thoughts, your thumb still caressing heeseungs backs through his shirt, “the way you were talking just made it seem like you just wanted to get it over with,” your hand doesn’t leave his back, “like, no strings attached, you know?”

“no… not no strings attached. i want strings attached. i want exclusivity. i want you.” his tears roll down to his mouth and he can taste the salt on his tongue. 

“heeseung…” you all but whisper, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. 

he wants to say more, only when he tries to formulate his thoughts into words, he finds himself yaking all over your floor before passing out.

pain. 

the first thing heeseung feels when he wakes up is pain.

not mental pain, which is what he’s felt for the past 5 days, but physical pain. an aching headache that shoots up from the base of his skull and wraps around to his forehead and flares at the back of his eyeballs. it’s settled, he is never touching alcohol ever again.

an acidic burn tickles his throat, and soon the memories from last night come flooding back to him. the cheetah girl at the club, the solemn and unsobering walk home, the drunken confession, and lastly, the puking. 

he cracks his eyes open and immediately recoils, for the golden glow of the morning sun increases the aching in his head and behind his eyes tenfold. jesus, what time is it? a couple of blinks help his eyes adjust to the light, and he becomes aware of the figure sitting to the right of him. in a split second he soon realizes that he’s in your room, tucked under your sheets, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that’s become permanently woven into your pillows. 

oh? oh. oh god. did you two….?

heeseungs restlessness draws your attention, and soon you're gazing down at him with a soft expression that makes heeseung feel all soft like honey. 

“hey sleeping beauty.” you tease, your eyes still puffy with traces of sleep and the book you were reading before he oh so rudely interrupted you last night is in your hands again - a well-loved copy of murakami’s kafka on the shore, which you place on your nightstand for the sake of passing heeseung a tall glass of water and an advil. he downs both immediately. 

“please tell me that the image i have of myself puking on your floor is something my brain conjured up while i was sleeping and not something that actually happened,” he rasps, throat stinging and nose stuffy.

“hate to break it to ya buddy,” you tsk while nodding sympathetically, “but that actually happened.”

heeseung shoves his head into your pillow, his thumbs pressing against his closed eyelids both in an attempt to relieve the ache and as an act of shame. he groans aloud, “oh god y/n i am so sorry, i-”

“heeseung it’s o-kay,” you punctuate, “shit happens.” 

still unable to look at you, heeseung just nods, the friction from your silk pillowcase making a couple strands of his hair stand on end. 

“besides, it was mostly clear,” you look off into the distance, “mostly.”

a second of quiet, and then you ask him, “how much of last night do you remember?”

he rolls onto his back, index and middle fingers of his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “most of it, it guess. i remember going out with my friends, stumbling back here and… telling you that i like you…”

“actually i believe you said that you really, really like me.” your sleep swollen lips curve into a teasing smirk. 

“fuck off,” he jeers while playfully pushing your shoulder. 

“woah!!! lee heeseung drops f-bombs now eh?”

he just chuckles, his hands moving to pass through his frazzled hair. as he shifts under your poofy comforter he realizes he’s still donning the clothes he wore last night - spare for his shoes, which he’s assuming you took off of him and likely put them on the shoe rack by the front door. 

a silence settles over the two of you, but this time it’s comfortable. it’s not estranged or pointed, but hospitable. 

“i didn’t know you felt that way about me.” you state. it’s not a positive or negative statement, simply neutral; an admission. 

heeseung doesn’t say anything, just gazes at your side profile and admires the way your eyelashes grace the tops of your cheeks, the way your top lip converges at your cupids bow, the way your cheekbones are dotted with blemishes. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks, “please?” 

a plea.

and, in your secluded bedroom on this bright saturday morning, you answer him by pressing your lips to his. 

it’s strange, since heeseung can’t seem to discern any actual sensations, he just feels incredibly warm. warm and soft, like taffy that’s been left out and has melted in the glow of the sun. his heart is flipping inside of the cage that is his ribs as he pushes his pursed lips against yours in reciprocation.

you detach your lips from his for a second only to reattach them moments later in a deeper, more passionate kiss that heeseung exhales into, the tip of his nose gracing yours as he tilts his head to sink impossibly deeper into you. his curious hands make their way up to the back of your neck where he grabs ahold and pulls you against him so your torso is on top of his own, your heart beating against his. 

underneath the confines of your comforter heeseung feels your leg glide against his own, the sheets crinkling and tangling in the process. his mouth continues to dance against yours with his tongue experimentally poking out every so often before he pushes it past your lips and into your hot mouth. a whimper makes its way out of you and heeseung swears that if he were standing his knees surely would’ve given out from underneath him. 

“heeseung…” you whine before nipping at his cushiony bottom lip, sucking at it to soothe the sting - and to make heeseung swoon even more. ugh! he just can’t get enough of you and your sickeningly sweet demeanour.

as you continue to kiss and suck at heeseung pouty lips and perfect teeth you become more and more restless, your hands moving to smooth over the expanse of his chest and the tops of his shoulders where they come to rest. the palms of your hands are soft and delicate and they send a shiver down heeseung’s spine as he feels them grace his cloth covered skin that’s slightly damp with sweat. 

with (what seems like) some reluctance, you remove your mouth from heeseung’s with a wet smack. when he cracks open his eyes he finds you beholding him wistfully, your pupils dilated and lips swollen and glossy with lip gloss of his own making. 

“can you show me how you get yourself off?”

your voice is deep and slow; sultry, like a glass of oxblood coloured cabernet sauvignon. his breath hitches in his throat once he fully registers the request you just made. show you? on his own??? he does his best to swallow his nerves. 

“sure,” heeseung agrees bashfully, “if you can do the same.”

“okay.” you smile before tossing the blankets off of both of your hot bodies. a much welcomed gust of cool air causes heeseung to erupt in a fit of goosebumps (although he’s not quite sure if that’s from the change in temperature or his current predicament). 

unsure of what to do next, he waits to follow your lead. with hungry eyes he watches you pull of your pyjama bottoms before tossing them in a heap on the floor, leaving you in a pair of plain light blue panties and an oversized band tee. in somewhat of a rush heeseung fumbles with the hardware of his jeans, struggling to pop the button and tug down the copper zipper at the fault of his nerves. eventually he does so successfully, discarding his bottoms before becoming stuck in limbo.

with deft fingers you begin to drag the hem of your shirt upwards, exposing more and more of your torso before stopping once you reach your sternum. the soft underside of your breasts are just barely peeking out from underneath the fabric. 

heeseung watches with wide eyes and a painfully hard cock as you slip your hand underneath the waistband of your panties in one swift motion, a motion that he’s sure you’ve done hundreds of times before this. his brain swims as he thinks about all of the times you’ve touched yourself in this very room, in this very bed. 

your knuckles strain and push at the fabric of your underwear as you play with yourself, your chest rising and falling steadily but with slightly more erraticism than before. heeseung follows in your footsteps and reaches to the thick elastic waistband of his boxers, hesitating for only a second before pushing the garment down to his hips, allowing his hard cock to slap against his tense stomach. he spits in his palm before wrapping his hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a few tentative strokes and watching the way his stomach spasms. 

“i don’t think i said this before,” you purr, “but you have a really nice cock heeseung.”

your admittance has heeseung overheating, his cheeks and chest flushing a pretty shade of pink. his stomach twists and churns and he slowly starts to jerk himself knowing that you’re watching his every move, like a vulture stalking its pretty. to distract himself from his own ministrations heeseung looks at you, his gaze travelling from your hand in your panties to your chest to your face where he finds you staring back at him, causing him to quickly look away out of sheer embarrassment of being caught. 

“what do you think about when you touch yourself?”

you. obviously. 

but he doesn’t say that. 

he just remains quiet, his eyes darting from place to place  but of course, no answer does not satiate your appetite for knowledge, so you push further. 

“do you think about me?”

yes. obviously.

he nods steadily in response before realizing that that simply isn’t a satisfactory response. 

“always.” his voice is small yet unwavering. 

you smile at his admittance, eyes hazy with desire and your cheek squished against your pillow due to your head being turned towards him. breathy moans and pleas tumble past your lips as you finger yourself, your hips rolling into the heel of your palm. slick wet sounds can be heard both from you and from heeseung, whose precum is aiding in his ability to pump his dick at an increasing speed. the burning pit in his stomach slowly grows and grows and he moans aloud, jolting slightly when the outside of your thigh brushes against his own.

as he feels himself approaching the cusp of an orgasm, the familiar sensation looming closer and closer like a moth drawn to a flame, your hand grabs his arm prompting him to stop, your middle and ring fingers wet against where they’re wrapped around his forearm. 

in the next second you’re sitting up, hands grasping the hem of your shirt once again only to fully remove it this time, exposing your back back and tits to him rendering him speechless. you discard your panties as well, leaving you completely bare as you move to straddle heeseung’s tense thighs. all he does is look at you in astonishment, mouth slightly agape. 

without thinking heeseung reaches forward and envelops both of your breasts with his big hands, his palms rubbing against your hardened nipples while his fingers gently dig into the soft flesh. 

“your tits are perfect,” he rasps, hand moving in circular motions to massage your chest.

“really?” your eyes light up at the compliment.

he nods, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he remains enamoured with your figure. your fingers tickle his sides before grasping at his shirt, tugging at it in a way that tells him you want it off; he sits up and removes the garment before you place a palm on his chest and push him back onto your mattress, the springs making a slight squeak at the force. your eyes rake over heeseung’s bare chest as he lays before you, a shaky exhale leaving him every few seconds or so.

“you’re so handsome lee heeseung.” you compliment. 

“even when i’m hungover?” 

“even when you’re hungover.”

you crawl over his body, just a little bit, so your hips are unbearably close to his aching cock, the tip an enraged red spilling pearly white beads of precum. heeseung tries his best to not shudder when you wrap your hands around his shaft, moving yourself to be perched directly above his dick. you drag his tip through your folds to be a tease, only when the boy beneath you begins to squirm do you line his cock up wit your dripping hole before sinking down on it ever so slowly, gauging heeseungs reaction with scrutiny. he looks quite pretty, with his eyes screwed shut and bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat. once he’s fully inside of you you remain stagnant, hips flush against his own. 

heeseung feels like he’s gone limp, his limbs turned to mush and inoperable. he keeps his eyes tightly shut as he becomes accustomed to the feeling of being inside of you, for he knows if he sees you sitting on top of him he’s going to have heart palpitations. 

only once heeseungs face slowly starts to relax, his eyelids slowly fluttering open, do you begin to move, gyrating your pelvis against his at a leisurely pace. heeseung can’t help but whimper when he feels you grinding on top of him, his cock throbbing and sensitive inside the warmth of your pussy. 

your hands rest on heeseungs chest to help you stabilize yourself, your nails digging into the soft skin covering his pecs and leaving behind deep red marks. heeseungs hands move to grab at your hips and you arch your back in response, teasingly shoving your tits in his face - he takes this as an invitation and pulls you closer to him so he can wrap hips lips around your left nipple, sucking on it while palming the other. 

“oh my-, heeseung,” you moan as heeseung continues to play with your breasts eagerly. in response you increase the pace at which your hips are moving at, grinding against him in a fluid, persistent manner that makes heeseungs vision grow warped fuzzy. once again he feels the slow burn of an orgasm take flight in his stomach, slowly ebbing outwards as you work him towards his climax. 

the moans and groans leaving him come out muffled due to his mouth still being wrapped around your breast, only detaching once the need for oxygen becomes stronger and stronger and his heart beats faster and faster. your fingers feel hot against his skin as you fuck him raw, the sensation of your cunt constricting around his cock feeling so other worldly that heeseung believes that you and your pussy and your body the only things tethering to him reality. 

his name tumbles past your lips in the form of needy whines as your movements slowly become more and more erratic, your eyes rolled back into your skull as you chase your high. all heeseung can do is lie underneath you, his fingers back on your hips while the tantalizing promise of a mind blowing orgasm renders him almost immobile. sweat rolls off of his brows as he pants and groans, hips feebly bucking upwards in an attempt to make him cum faster.

“i’m so close y/n i-” is all he can manage to whimper to let you know that he’s about to finish, about to erupt into a thousand hot white stars. you moan an ‘i know’ in response before reaching down to play with your clit, your cunt tightening around heeseungs cock with each and every flick of your fingers. 

you orgasm with a desperate whine, brows furrowed and eyes shut as you keel over heeseung. your pussy flutters around his cock and you manage to pull yourself off of him right before he cums with a cry of your name, spilling his hot sticky seed all over the expanse of his stomach, which twitches and spasms every so often. 

the two of you lay side by side as you wait for your heart rates to lower, for your breathing to steady, for the aching in your lower abdomen to cease. there’s a slight ringing in heeseungs ears which slowly subsides overtime, allowing him to listen to the way your pants morph into heavy breathing. in his peripherals he can see your chest, see the way your eyes are heavy with pleasure. you move your hand just enough so that your knuckles trace across the back of heeseungs hand. 

the room comes to a standstill, with the sun peeking through the slats in your shades falling across his tainted stomach that rises and falls with each erratic inhale and exhale he takes. you shift to lie on your side so you’re facing heeseung, allowing your fingertips to dance over his clavicle, his neck, his jawline. 

bliss. 

euphoria.

a happy ending.

a/n: and to think some of y'all didn't believe that i was gonna give you a happy ending.......... what do you have to say for yourselves now huh? HUH??????? here's you're happy ending i'm gonna go cry now bc i'm weirdly emotionally attached to this series.

patience is a virtue taglist: @hello-stranger24 @jainandan @yohanabanana @iamliacamila @nyanggk @chansmaze @beomgyusonlywife

[hwaslayer]

project: make you love me (jyh) | eleven.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 3.2k

—chapter content/warnings: sawrrry this is a bit of a filler chapter 🤠 more development between these two, cussing/mature language, another seonghwa flashback, small kisses hehe, these two are still shy (but so in luv 😙), making out, naps with yuyu <33

"Yunho." You whisper as you tap his chest.

"That's me." He says deeply, huskily; it makes you giggle to yourself a bit. 

"Wake up." You pout as his eyes slowly flutter open.

"Time is it?"

"Around 5AM."

"Goooood lord." He shuts his eyes again and pulls you closer. "Absolutely not."

"Yunho." You whine. "Let's go watch the sunrise."

"Y/N, you are very cute and I would do anything to make you happy." He says groggily. "But, it's only been about 3 hours since we fell asleep. Don't you wanna get more sleep?"

"I've tried sleeping more but I can't."

"You really wanna watch the sunrise?" 

"Yes." He opens and eye to peek down at you— indeed, you are very, very awake. He can't help but chuckle a bit because you're giving him that cute smile while tucked underneath his arm.

"Okay then."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He stretches a bit and yawns before fully waking himself up. "Just need to get dressed. You don't have any clothes to change into? It's probably freezing outside."

"Gonna need to stop by my apartment before we go."

"Okay then, let's get going." But before you can get up, Yunho gently puts his arm in front of you to prevent you from moving any further and squints his eyes at you, as if he was observing you very closely.

"What?" You ask him, eyes wide and alert.

"Damn, you really are serious about this." You snort and playfully hit him on the arm.

"Please, I've never been able to catch the sunrise." You pout.

"And you wanna do this with me?" He chuckles a bit.

"Of course I do." You give him a small smile and he nods.

"Okay then." You watch as he gets up first to stretch again, walking over to his closet to find you a jacket to throw on for this spontaneous journey you crazily have him agreeing to.

The tiny trek back to your apartment wasn't too bad, being that Yunho's jacket had added a protective layer and shielded you from getting too cold. You could see your breath in the morning, crisp hair; the sky still dark and patiently waiting for the sun to rise. You quietly step into your apartment, dashing into your room to grab a change of clothes and to wash up a bit better before heading out. Yunho sits on your couch and waits, scrolling through his phone to find random screenshots Mingi had sent him from the party last night.

mingi: dude last night was wild

mingi: did you end up leaving with y/n? i cant remember.. is she okay?

yunho: yeah, she's good.

mingi: did you guys hook up? how was it? 😏

Yunho furrows his brows and chuckles a bit, responding to Mingi quickly to get his nose out of his business— because he knows this is going to be relayed to Seonghwa. Not that he cares, but he'd like to keep Seonghwa guessing a bit more. 

yunho: we just chilled, relax. lol

mingi: i have to tell you about last night

mingi: but are you fr? you guys didn't hook up?

Yunho's eyes shift to the hallway when he hears a door creak open, a wild Soobin popping out of the frame.

"Oh." Soobin sleepily walks out with rough bedhead, eyes barely open when he heads to the kitchen to grab water. "Yunho, hey." He says sleepily with a wave. 

"Hey." Yunho says as he watches him pop open a water bottle and take a few swigs. 

"Feel like shit." He mumbles before pointing towards the bathroom. "Y/N in there?" Yunho nods. At that moment, you quietly slip out, surprised to see Soobin up and walking.

"The heck?" You giggle seeing his current state and playfully ruffle his hair.

"Shut up. Where are you going?"

"To watch the sunrise."

"That's crazy. You let her talk you into this?" Soobin looks at Yunho, and Yunho gives him a simple, pursed smile in return. "Goodluck. I'm going back to bed." He mumbles before lazily waving at you and Yunho, slipping himself back his shared room with Seungmin. You shift your attention back to Yunho, slowly walking towards him in your newly changed outfit. He thinks you're the cutest— dressed in your leggings, those legwarmers, uggs.

That oversized, olive-colored jacket.

The thick scarf wrapped around your neck.

Your cream beanie.

"Speak now or forever hold your peace." You mutter and Yunho laughs, standing on his two feet.

"Come on. We gotta get there to catch the sunrise in time."

"Get where?" You lock up the front door before following Yunho to his car. 

"I think I know the perfect place to catch the sunrise." He stands near the opened passenger door, patiently waiting for you to get inside. You giggle to yourself before hopping in; settling into the seat just as Yunho sits in the driver's seat and immediately turns on the heat. 

"Sorry."

"For?" Yunho raises his brow.

"Dragging you out of bed." He chuckles.

"I mean, truthfully, I can feel myself dying by the minute." You playfully smack him on the bicep, making him laugh a bit louder this time.

"Yunho, don't play. I feel bad. Let's just—"

"I'm kidding, Y/N. I meant it when I said I'd do anything to make you happy." 

"But, I want you to be happy, too."

"I am." He gives you a small smile before caressing your chin. "Promise."

"Okay, Jeong Yunho. I'm taking that to heart." He chuckles.

It isn't too long before Yunho's pulling into a lot of a nearby hiking trail. He reassures you that there's a shorter path that'll take you up the hill, where there is a bench you can sit to enjoy the view and catch the sunrise. You let him take the lead to guide you on the right path, but he stops when he finds the coffee cart nearby. The coffee cart sits near the small welcome center, lights on the overhead illuminating the cart brightly during this dark morning.

"Want hot chocolate? Coffee?"

"Ou, hot chocolate sounds bomb."

"It does. I'll grab us some." He jogs over to the cart, smiling at the middle-aged man who is patiently waiting for time to pass, for more customers to arrive. He's quick to fix the two cups of hot chocolate, Yunho walking back over within the next 5 minutes. "Here. Drink up while it's warm."

"Thank you, Yunho." He smiles, walking alongside you— keeping a bit of a lead to guide you and show you the way. "I don't think I even knew about this place."

"Hm. It's a hidden gem, really. Everyone usually goes to the busier hiking trail nearby."

"Do you come here often?"

"Nope." Yunho chuckles. "But, my aunt took me and my mom here when they visited awhile ago."

"Sweet. I love how you're close to them. I hope I get to meet them one day." You say without really thinking about how it sounds, or how it comes off. When you do realize, you shoot Yunho a look and apologize for having assumed where you two stood. "Oh, I mean, you know. If they happen to be on campus again and what not—" Yunho laughs.

"You'll get to meet them outside of campus. Don't worry." You shyly blush and break eye contact, looking out at the path ahead. It's actually not that far of a walk, seeing that the bench Yunho had mentioned was only a few feet up ahead. It's perched on the side of the hill that overlooks the other side of town, with the trail continuing on past it. Both you and Yunho take your seats, sitting close enough to feed off of each other's body heat.

It's comforting.

You're perfectly content sitting next to Yunho, watching the sun slowly begin to rise.

"There's the sun." Yunho lets out a breath before sipping on his coffee. "We made it in time."

"Yay!" You look up at him again. "Can't believe we're catching the sunrise. You really are the best."

"Just want you to be happy because you deserve it, all of it." Yunho says, firmly believing in his own statement. He's not that great with affection and words, but you absolutely deserved way better than Park Seonghwa.

He couldn't even reach the bare minimum.

"You're too good to me."

"I'm being honest." You sip on your hot chocolate in peace, occasionally tracing the lid with your finger. It's quiet as the rest of the sun begins to slowly show itself more and more past the horizon. Eventually, Yunho is the first to break that silence and ask: "Can I ask you something? You don't have to respond either if you don't want to."

"Of course."

"Has Seonghwa tried reaching out to you?" You shake your head.

"Absolutely not. And he shouldn't."

"Hm." He hums. "So, you don't see yourself going back to him?"

"No, Yunho. Why would I put myself through that again, right?"

♣︎ FLASHBACK

"Hwa, wait." Seonghwa pauses in his steps just as he's about to make his way to the car. He cocks a brow up, watching as you take a picture of the sunset.

"What're you doing?"

"Isn't it pretty?"

"I guess? It's like any other sunset." He shrugs. You continue to snap a few pictures, making the impatience grow in Seonghwa a bit. He huffs, shifting his weight from one foot to another before continuing off to the car. "Y/N, come on? I just wanna get home." 

"I'm just taking one more picture."

"The food you asked for is gonna get cold." You roll your eyes and waddle over to the passenger side, sliding into the seat before strapping your seatbelt on. It's a quiet drive for the most part, Seonghwa already annoyed with the fact that you asked him to stop by for some food post-practice. You don't really care much, though. Overall, you had a good day with your friends and you weren't gonna let him ruin it entirely.

"Seonghwa."

"Hm?" He hums, eyes still glued to the road ahead.

"We should catch the sunrise one day." He snorts.

"For what? What's up with you and the sun?"

"I just like it. It's pretty."

"Baby, I can barely get my ass up for class. You're up earlier than me. You should do it."

"I want to do it with you, though." He laughs and it kinda hits you right in the feels, hits you right in the pit of your stomach. 

You try, and you try, and it goes nowhere.

You don't understand why you do this to yourself.

"You don't have to do everything with me, Y/N. Don't wait for me. You should do it if you wanna."

"Yeah." Is all you respond with, nibbling on your bottom lip hearing yet another rejection from Seonghwa.

♣︎ END

"I mean, you had your good days and bad days with him, too."

"I know. He's just in the past now, though. Something I definitely want to move on from and keep him where he belongs in the past. I think he just did more harm than good, and I hated feeling so small and replaceable to him. Like nothing."

"I get you." He says.

"I have no intentions of going back." You give him a tiny, toothless smile in response to his reaction. "Promise."

"Okay. I'll hold onto every word of yours." It's quiet again while the two of you continue to watch. This time, after an or so, it's your turn to break the silence; pondering about the sudden question Yunho asked.

He must be worried, right?

Worried that you'd crawl back to Seonghwa, fall into his games, traps.

You get it. You get Yunho.

Seonghwa is only a mere passing thought at this point.

"Yunho."

"Hm?" He sips on his coffee

"I know I was kinda drunk, but I meant what I said on the phone while I was away."

"What did you say?" He smirks, subtly biting onto the lid of his cup while his eyes are glued onto yours. You giggle and shake your head, taking a sip of your hot chocolate before looking back out at the view.

"Nothing." You tease back.

"Aw, really? Like that?" He gently nudges you with a small chuckle. "I guess you didn't really mean it, then." He shrugs.

"Hey." You whine. "I did mean it." You look at him with a pout and he continues to smirk that smirk of his until you give in. God, he was becoming your weakness. "I meant it when I said I like you, Yunho." His smile grows.

"I meant it when I said I like you, too."

"I'm glad we're on the same page, then." He nods.

"I feel a bit silly explaining this, but last night.." He lets out a breath. "I hope you don't feel like you did anything wrong because you didn't. I just really wanna do things right with you. I meant that, too."

"I know." You look down at his free hand dug into his pocket. You hesitate a bit, but you eventually slip your hand into his pocket and lace your finger with his— a gesture that makes his heart melt and adore you even more. 

The both of you sit there while quietly sipping on your drinks and watching the rest of the sun rise from its slumber. It's still cold, and you can still see your breath in the air. But Yunho is warm next to you; his hand is warm, his company is warm.

"So, am I off the hook with reading your lit reviews?" He teases again, making you laugh.

"No, please. I still need your help for the rest of the semester if it doesn't bother you."

"I'm kidding. It doesn't. I wanna help." You lean into his arm a bit more, trying to recover with his warmth. "Are you cold?"

"A bit."

"Do you wanna head back then? Sun is up." You nod.

"Yeah, I think I'm good. Thank you again for watching the sunrise with me." You look up at him, planting a kiss on his cheek. However, before you could pull back completely, you feel Yunho gently tug on your hand— signaling for you to stay close. 

So, you do.

And Yunho dips forward to give you a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips. You giggle and bite your lip when you catch how red the tip of his ears have become.

"That's better." He chimes in before standing, keeping your hand laced with his in his pocket. "What are you gonna do when we get back, though? Are you gonna hang out with your roommates?" The both of you toss your empty cups into the nearby trash can.

"Maybe, yeah. Take a nap." You chuckle. "What about you?"

"Same since I feel myself crying for sleep now." You laugh. "Do you wanna nap at my place?" He looks at you before clearing his throat. "I mean, totally up to you. I don't mean to be forward but just wanted to put the option out there. B-but, don't feel—"

"I'd love to nap with you." You blush.

"I swear I won't take any more time away from Chaery." 

"She'll be okay." You giggle. But, just as you reach the bottom of the hill, your phone starts to beep from incoming texts.

"You sure about that?" Yunho smirks when he sees you flash your screen his way; Chaery's name popping up a few times.

chaery: shit it is so early but i swear i heard you come in earlier. did you??

chaery: i'm also kinda bleh from the alchy last night. so my bad if not, hehe. i guess you're still with yunho?!

chaery: i'm gna go back to sleep but come back soon. imy. but i hope you're having the time of your life with your man <33 get it girl!!

"She's okay. Promise. She's just wondering where I'm at and if it was me that walked in earlier." You try to text back using your free hand, letting your bestfriend know you'd be at Yunho's for a bit longer.

you: it was me, sorry for waking you, love. i am with yunho! i'll prob head back in a few hours. hehe get some more sleep! 

"Y/N." You tuck your phone back into your pocket and look up at Yunho.

"Yes?"

"Are you sure? About the nap?"

"Yes. Unless you take your invite back." 

"Of course not." Yunho briefly lets go of your hand to open the passenger door. You slide in, watching him jog over and start the car to get the heat going as soon as possible. He takes a moment to get settled before he's driving off, his hand open and resting on the middle console— waiting for you to lock your hand with his again. 

"Hope you don't mind me borrowing your clothes all the time. I still have to wash the stuff I wore to bed." He chuckles.

"It's okay, I don't mind."

"Is Yeosang up already?" Yunho looks at the time on his dash.

"Probably not. There are rare days when he gets up early to gym or go for a run. But I doubt it after last night." 

"Is he dating anyone?" Your curiosity gets the best of you.

"Not that I know of. He hasn't had someone over in awhile."

"But.. he has?"

"You're cute." Yunho laughs. "He has. And to be honest, there are some moments I don't really wanna remember." You snort.

"Wow, was not expecting to hear that. Good for him."

"Yeah, he's a good guy. He deserves to have some fun sometimes. Plus, it's nice that he's away from the computer."

"That's true, too." You yawn, leaning your head near the window. "Okay, now I can't wait for that nap."

"You see?" Yunho laughs, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

The drive is a quick 20 minutes, with the rest of the ride falling silent besides Yunho humming along to the songs. You completely feel the exhaustion hit you as soon as Yunho pulls into the familiar lot. The both of you drag yourselves back upstairs and into the quiet apartment, padding into Yunho's room to change into another set of his comfy clothes. You opt for one of his longsleeves and joggers, slipping yourself back into the sheets with Yunho following shortly behind. He tucks you under the covers well before pulling you into his arms and letting you tuck your head near the crook of his neck.

"You're so warm." Yunho lets out a small, breathy laugh when he feels you shiver against him, adjusting his position and keeping you close.

"Feel better?" You look up at him and nod.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me." He says softly, pausing in between his responses. "Y/N?"

"Mhm?"

"Can I kiss you again?"

"I'd like that." You giggle, watching as Yunho dips his head down to kiss you. You smile into the kiss when you realize he doesn't want to pull away— instead, chasing after your lips for another, and another;

And another.

Until the kiss deepens, the both of you indulging in each other through every bit, every second. His hand gives your side a gentle squeeze when he feels you bite onto his bottom lip and let out a breath in between kisses. But, even if the kiss feels like it continues to intensify, even if the fireworks grow with every move, every touch; there is no need, no push, to take things further. 

Just taking him in, as he is with you. 

At some point, Yunho slows down and is the first to pull back. His eyes remain on you though, his hand coming up to brush the hair away from your face. He gives you a tiny, toothless smile before pressing a sweet peck to your forehead, down to the tip of your nose;

To the corner of your lips.

"You're so pretty." He sleepily says, making you giggle and snuggle against him. "Let's sleep."

"Okay." You shut your eyes, slowly falling asleep to the sound of Yunho's soft breathing.

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