#yeah a little. i mean. i know that unfortunately it comes with making stuff but still

[senipsenipsenip]

Eventually, the scrapbook ended. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon hours ago, and some nagging part of Stan's brain was telling him kids shouldn't be up this late. Unless they're breaking into a mini golf course. He jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. That was...oddly specific.

"Grunkle Stan?" a little voice - Mabel - questioned. He looked down at his knee to see where his great-niece was sitting, eyeing him with no small degree of concern. "Are you okay?"

He ruffled her hair. "'Course, Pumpkin. Just trying to shake some of those memories back in the right place, huh?" He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, smacking the side like he was trying to get water out his ears. "Got a straggler! Hup! There we go," he grinned, lowering his hand. "Good as new!"

Whatever he said must have been the right thing, because Mabel's eyes had lit up like he'd told her he was turning the Mystery Shack into a cotton candy emporium and Dipper had a sudden death grip on his other leg.

"Geez kid, you're clawing through my pants here," he grumbled, making no move to take away his nephew's hand. "Haven't you chewed your nails off by now? How're they so sharp?"

"You called me Pumpkin," Mabel whispered.

"You remembered I chew my nails," Dipper said in awe. Then he frowned. "Hey, how come Mabel gets a nice one and I get a gross one."

Stan shrugged. "'Cause she's nice, and you're gross."

"Ha! Zoom!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air before collapsing back into Stan's lap in a fit of giggles. Dipper rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he settled back against Stan's other side. Ford stayed perched on the arm of the chair, smiling fondly, but eyebrows still drawn together.

"What's the matter, Sixer?" Stan frowned as Ford grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

Ford waved off Stan's concern. "It's nothing. It's..." Ford sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not nothing. I just don't want to..." He pursed his lips.

"Don't leave us hanging." There was a shake in Stan's voice, and Mabel shifted closer to her Grunkle.

"I'm glad this has been helpful to you," Ford muttered. "But...you don't remember everything. Not really."

"Whaddya mean?" Stan asked. "I remember you, the kids, Soos. The freeloading jerk who steals my sandwiches." Stan glared at Waddles who simply oinked and started trying to eat his shoelace. Whatever. Free pass for jump starting his memories. He better not get used to it.

Dipper sat up. "Yeah, what do you mean, Great Uncle Ford?"

Ford frowned. "I just... Hm." He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before turning to Stan with some resolve.

"Stanley," he began slowly. "I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you."

"That's not terrifyingly ominous," Stan muttered, glancing around at the available exits.

"Do you remember my - " Ford cleared his throat. "My first kiss?"

Stan froze. "What?"

"My first kiss, do you remember it?"

"I was there?"

"Yes. Unfortunately a lot of people were."

Mabel squealed beside Stan. "Ooo! Romance memories! How old were you? Was it high school? Was it a high school romance? Was it star-crossed love between the nerd and the cheerleader?"

"Mabel, I think Grunkle Stan is supposed to figure that stuff out."

Mabel sat up and stared at Stan expectantly. "Come on Grunkle Stan! I need details!"

Stan shook his head, nose wrinkling like he'd smelled something rotting. "How should I know? Who asks their brother that sort of thing?"

"Precisely." Ford spoke with the same air of professionalism he adopted when explaining his theories, despite the alarming shade of red his face was becoming. "So far it seems that your memories are returning based on external stimuli, whether that be Mabel's scrapbook or our own prompting."

"So, wait, you're saying I won't get all my memories back?"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying," Ford held up his hands. "What I'm saying is we can't expect them all to come back at once. And at the risk of turning the Shack into the set of the Johnny Carson show, we'll keep asking you questions."

Stan frowned. "What if I don't wanna remember my brother smooching some babe?"

Ford turned redder. "You do."

"I do? Geez, I was a perv."

"In the meantime," Ford pressed. "It's important to take note of any stimulus you experience that makes you remember something. Even if it doesn't paint the whole picture for you, we can fill in the blanks. Or prompt you to remember more details."

Dipper grinned. "And then we get to learn more about the secrets you've been hiding, old man."

Stan lifted his hand to give Dipper a well-earned noogie, but paused before he could make contact. "Old man...did you...did you tell me to shut up one time and then punched me?"

Dipper balked. "What? No I - "

"YEAH no WAY that'd be CRAZY!" Mabel interjected a bit too loudly. "Anyway let's get back to that kissing story, huh?"

"Actually Mabel, I don't know if I want to hear about Great Uncle Ford kissing anybody either."

"Oh come on, Dipper. Are you jealous that The Author got someone to kiss him and you didn't?"

"What? No!"

"Some girls like nerds."

"Mabel I don't want to think about anybody in this room kissing anybody."

"You could learn from him Dipper! Figure out how to wield your nerdish charms. Soon you'll be like a kissing machine!"

"MABEL -"

The twins were silenced by a sudden gasp from Stan. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his jaw hanging open as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Holy - " he choked out softly.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper sat up fully. "Are you okay?"

Stan didn't acknowledge him, eyes darting around minutely.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked softly. "Did you remember something?" Moisture had begun to gather in the corners of Stan's eyes, one of his hands covering his mouth as he began to shake.

"Great Uncle Ford?" Dipper turned to Ford, worry stitching his brows together. But Ford didn't look worried. If anything, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. His face was an alarming shade of red, nearly identical to his sweater. Stan let out another choked sound.

"Are you..." Mabel trailed off. "Grunkle Stan are you laughing?" He was quaking now, his hand falling from his mouth to reveal a wide, open-mouthed smile. He began slapping the arm rest with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling down his cheeks. Dipper and Mabel shared a look. Sure, they'd seen Stan laugh before, but it was usually a loud guffawing thing. They'd never seen him like this. They shared a tentative smile. Either this was the hardest they'd seen him laugh, or he had really snapped.

Ford seemed to pick up on their worry. "He's fine," Ford offered. "He's just...remembering my first kiss." At Ford's words, Stan let out a loud cackle, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel cocked her head. "But what's so funny about -"

"You children must be exhausted," Ford blurted out, standing abruptly. "Come now, go wash up then head to bed!"

"Oh no you don't!" Stan shouted. He wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. "You're not getting out of this one, pal!"

"Stanley, this conversation is hardly appropriate for children -"

"You brought it up!"

"And now I'm putting a stop to it."

Stan grabbed his head. "Ooooo ow," he gave an exaggerated groan. "My poor head. The mean man won't let me share my memories so they're all going away!"

"Stanley, please don't joke about that."

"I'm fading away - "

"Stanley."

Stan crossed his arms. "You know, you really know how to take the fun out of amnesia."

"Yeah! Come on Grunkle Ford," Mabel pouted. "You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Yeah!" Dipper joined in. "If it's a funny story I want to hear it."

Ford spluttered, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater and looking around for an exit.

"Come on, Sixer," Stan chimed in. His eyes had gone soft around the edges. "I think the kids deserve a funny story."

After today went unspoken. Ford met Stanley's gaze, already feeling his resolve melting before he even turned to his grand-niece and nephew's inquisitive smiles.

"Alright," Ford conceded. "But to maintain the integrity of the exercise, Stanley will be the one to tell it. Whatever he doesn't remember, I can fill in."

Stan rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy, this'll be good."

"I regret this already."

"It's alright Great Uncle Ford," Dipper patted his shoulder. "We have a whole summer's worth of stuff we get to make fun of Grunkle Stan for. This just gives us stuff to use against you now. Levels the playing field."

Ford frowned. "Is that meant to be comforting?"

Dipper shrugged.

"Alright you two, enough yapping." Stan grinned, leaning forward in his seat and spreading his hands out in front of him. It was the same way he started his campfire tales. Mabel and Dipper met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Kiss-Bot..."

[charlotterenaissance]

taking screenshots of my own posts and edits that i made here for tumblr so i can sort them nicely on pinterest but making sure to keep my handle on it because i believe in crediting artists

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.

Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'

Word Count: 5K

part 2

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ .

You hate the way he dresses.

You hate his stupid hair.

You hate the pet names he calls you.

You hate his voice.

You hate his hazel eyes.

You hate his smile.

You hate Logan Howlett.

It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.

That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.

“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.

“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”

“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.

“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”

Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”

“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.

Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.

“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”

“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”

He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.

“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”

“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.

“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.”

“No, you.”

“I said it first!”

“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”

“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.

“What are our first names, then?”

“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”

“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 

“Does that mean I get to stab you?”

“You’d miss.”

Charles had his head in his hands.

“How about Jack and Jill?”

You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.

“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.

“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”

You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.

“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 

“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”

Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”

—----------------

Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?

Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 

You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 

He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 

“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”

He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.

You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.

“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”

“Good luck.”

“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”

“Bite Me.”

He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”

You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”

“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”

“It is.”

“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”

You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”

“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”

Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.

It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.

“You ready, Jack?” you teased.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”

He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 

The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.

“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”

Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.

“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”

Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 

She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 

“Cage fighter.”

Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.

“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.

‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”

You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.

“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.

You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.

You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’

You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.

“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”

You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.

His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.

“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”

“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”

A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 

“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”

Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.

“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “

“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”

That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.

“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 

You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 

“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.

“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.

“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”

“Whatever.”

That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.

Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 

You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.

Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.

“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.

“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”

His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.

“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”

He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.

A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.

A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.

“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”

He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 

“So, did you come alone?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.

“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”

You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.

“mhm.”

It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 

“Hey, bub.”

The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.

“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”

His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 

“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.

“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”

He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.

You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.

“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.

“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”

You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.

“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”

“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”

“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”

“Bedroom or office, maybe.”

“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.

“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”

He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.

You sighed, knowing what that meant.

“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”

You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.

“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”

Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 

Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.

“Yeah? Is it locked?”

You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.

“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”

“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”

You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.

Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.

“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.

“Easiest way to do it.”

He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

“What if it falls out?” you asked.

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”

You rolled your eyes and looked him over.

“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”

“Fine.”

He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.

“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”

You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.

“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”

“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”

She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Is that so bad?”

You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”

Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”

You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”

You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.

“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.

“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.

“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.

“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.

“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 

“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”

“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”

You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 

“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 

It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 

Logan kissed you.

His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.

The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 

“What was what?”

He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.

“What if I wanted to?”

You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.

“What?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”

You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?

“Logan, I - “

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”

His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.

“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”

When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.

“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.

He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”

“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.

You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”

The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mere for a second.”

You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.

“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”

You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 

“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 

You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.

You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.

You couldn’t hate his kind smile.

You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.

You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 

So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.

“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.

“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”

He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.

“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”

He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”

You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 

“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.

‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”

As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)

Edit: here is the link to part 2!

[wonderjanga]

even though the bad parent captain marvel thing is resolved, i'd still love some more scenarios from the JL's pov of marvel's 'bad' parenting. ONLY if you WANT to do it, if you dont then just ignore this request lol

like him telling freddy or mary to 'fuck off' or swear at them in general and threaten to steal their stuff or blackmail them (like normal siblings do -coming from a middle child with two siblings)

or maybe they hear freddy and mary ranting about marvel and they JL misinterprets their sibling rivalry as abuse

Marvel is a terrible parent. The JL knows it. It just flabbergasts them every time they see or hear about it because Marvel is literally the nicest person ever so why does he hate his kids?

Junior and Mary: *walking down a hallway in the Watchtower while complaining about Marvel*

Mary: “Says you. He was chasing me around with a darn stick trying to beat me yesterday.”

Junior: “You don’t have the right to complain. At least you could run.”

Mary: “I guess but Pedro was carrying you so you could get away too. So I think I have to right to complain.”

Flash: *had the unfortunate displeasure of hearing that*

Now why was a grown man running around after his kids and trying to beat them with a stick? Also what did Cap do to make it so that Junior couldn’t run away?? Flash knew he was magic, so he was hoping he just used some magic to bind his legs or something. Speaking of Junior…

Junior: *annoying Marvel*

Marvel: *looking more increasingly annoyed* “Junior. Please take five steps back from me before I decide to slap the shit out of you.”

Supes: *immediately looks over to them*

Junior: “No you won’t. You’re chicken-”

Marvel: *literally raises his hand to do it*

Supes: *looks extremely concerned*

Junior: *immediately shuts up*

Marvel: “Yeah that’s what I thought.”

Junior: “Bastard.”

Marvel: “You’re a bastard too. Anyways, want lunch?”

Junior: “Yeah, tacos.”

Clark got a little whiplash from the quick change of topic. Though, that entire interaction really does enforce that he does not care for these kids. It’s so unfortunately obvious. Another example of him not caring was when Marvel and the silver one were sent to go examine a cave on a deserted planet.

Marvel and Eugene: *staring at the ominous cave*

Marvel: *walks behind Eugene* “Well… go on.” *pushes him forward to the cave*

Eugene: “What do you mean go on?! I’m not gonna sacrifice myself for you!”

Marvel: “But we’re family.”

Eugene: “So? I’m not fighting a dang Xenomorph if one pops out.”

Marvel: “Don’t worry. We’ll fight it together.” *continued to push him, but is thankfully walking with him*

Batman saw this entire interaction when he was reviewing to body cams he forced the two to wear. Who just pushes their son into danger like that? He needed to have a talk with Marvel about his parenting.

Pedro: “Hey, which of us is your favorite?”

Marvel: *almost immediately* “Mary and Darla.”

Pedro: “Mary and Darla- why them?? Darla was eating crayons just the other day, and Mary is Mary.”

Marvel: “Okay and…? They’re still my favorites?”

GL: “Wait, who’s Darla?”

Marvel: “The purple one.”

At least he likes the purple one, Darla? They haven’t seen a negative interaction between her and Cap yet. Emphasis on yet.

[muntitled]

Clockwork | Park Sunghoon

Vampire!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader

Summary: “If there’s one thing stronger than your need to feast,” You lift that hand up once again, “-its your need to fuck."

Warnings: Language, Implied Violence, Dark Fic, Morally Ambiguous!Reader, Blackmail, Reader has a crush, Librarian!Reader, Implied age gap, Confrontation, Smut (+18) mdni, Blood Kink, Biting, Sadism, Masochism, Dom!Sunghoon, Sub!Reader, public sex, dub/Con, fingering, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Ownership kink, Pain Kink, Marking, Dumbification, Dacryphilia

Idek yall…

They are such stuff as monsters are made of.

That is the very last thing you are taught about Sunghoon.

That he is something to fear.

Predatory.

Killer.

But all you saw and all you’ll ever see is the boy casted in the shadows of library bookshelves. This is the setting that births your obsession- no- your love for him.

Every Thursday afternoon.

When the library has cleared out.

The only time he’s not with his family. The only time he’s alone.

Like clockwork.

“What do we have here?” A phrase you were obligated to say. Not many townsfolk valued literature and those that did, as per your boss, “needed to find every reason to come back.” Even if that meant mustering a robotic sunshine smile. As if you were a cashier at Starbucks and not a small town librarian.

How you managed to speak so coherently with Sunghoon looming on the other side of the desk remains a complete and utter mystery. If you were driven, otherwise, by the bundle of love knots in your stomach you might have stuttered foolishly and squeaked your way through scanning his books.

“Books.” He answers curtly, brusquely, leaving absolutely no room for further conversation- or interrogation, as it would apparently appear.

Sunghoon is not looking at you. His eyes - those endless golden voids-, are looking down at the mahogany desk you are standing on the opposite side of. You wish for more than anything to feel that otherworldly feeling of having those golden eyes focused completely on you.

What must that feel like?

To have Sunghoon’s sole, undivided attention.

You would soon have the unfortunate pleasure of finding out.

“W-Well I know they’re books,” You continue, stating this with an airy, light chuckle. A chuckle that indicated this conversation should have been over a long time ago and that you’re blatantly aware of that. Why aren’t you keeping your mouth shut?

“I mean- Well I just mean, you know it’s not everyday a 20 year old takes out,” You glance down at the book in your hands before sending it through the system, “Wuthering Heights?” Your brows furrow as you send a second one of his books through the scanner, “Turn of The Screw?” And the final, “Frankenstein-Mary Shelley?"

You quirk a questioning eyebrow up at him- one silently inquiring ‘what the fuck’s up with the archaic books, grandpa?’ But he, of course, is not sparing you a single glance.

Or wait- he does. But for the briefest moment.

"I enjoy literature.” It almost makes you keel over in inexplicable discomfort, the way the words were chewed on before they were forcibly spat out. You can see he is done entertaining your mindless spiel but for some weird, fucking stupid reason, you’re not done with him.

“Well yeah, sure. But I mean, the dust on these books are ageless, you must be the first man to borrow these in like, 40 million years-”

“21.” It is all he says. One little word that cuts your rant short like a heated knife. You glance up at him, hoping those dazzling eyes look down at you.

And they do.

Bloody, fucking, Christ. They do.

“You said 20. I’m 21.” Before you were about to ask how that could be the case- how Sunghoon could be older than you when you distinctly remember finishing high school the same year?

He decides to shock you.

“I got… held back a year. I was already supposed to have graduated.” You are not sure whether it’s the sprinkle of rain that has begun falling. Whether it was the weight of the impenetrable fact that Sunghoon fucking Park has just spoken to you more words than he’s ever said your entire high school career. Or whether-and this may exactly be it-you were affected by those blazing eyes that glided backup to look at you.

Not golden.

Blazing.

For the golden hues have simmered into something darker. They’ve literally bled into a darker shade of the gold-almost yellow hues in his eyes. The breath completely escapes your throat. This time he does not look away.

“R-Right. Of course. Sorry.” You had nothing to be sorry for. How could you ever have known any of Sunghoon’s and his weird friends’ ages when the only people they directly interacted with were the teachers and themselves? You could never have known Sunghoon was 21 and therefore did not need to apologise but… those eyes… they made you sorry.

“It’s just-” why the fuck, after everything, after all of that, is your mouth still moving? It’s like this was your only opportunity of bravery. Your only window letting through a sliver of courage before you would retreat in on yourself for the rest of your waning time in this town. Moving amongst the books like a spectre before you ran off to college.

This was your only opportunity.

“Well they’re all Victorian.” You finally let those words tumble out of your mouth.

You hear the sharp intake of breath.

“Bronte, James, Shelley.” You slide the books to him. “All Victorian… is this pattern the product of some trend I’m missing out on?” You chuckle lightly at the end of that, hoping to wrench one out of him too but you knew that was an impossible feat. Still, the chuckle drains down your throat when you hand him his books. Your fingers, still encircled around the hardbacks, brush over him accidentally.

“Jesus, are you cold?”

He pulls away quickly, evading eye contact like you’d turn him to stone. Evading your touch like your skin scorched his. “It’s raining. I-I could give you a ride-”

Sunghoon gulps visibly. In the span of a single conversation, those dark-golden eyes have stayed firmly on you but now they are prying you apart.

“That won’t be necessary.” He says, swallowing thickly once more.

“Of course.” You wave him off, immediately overcome by the embarrassment of your own presumptuous nature. Sunghoon's gaze drifts down to the books once more.

No. You can’t afford the dismissal. You can’t bear the non-verbal rejection any longer.

The faucet that is your mouth, just continues spewing.

“Vampires aren’t usually the ones being offered a ride, are they?” You turn your head, focusing on the raindrops shooting pellets at the tall library window. Your gaze appears far away but that’s what you want him to think. In your periphery, you see his eyes snap up from the mahogany desk with his head following; enough to make those dark strands bounce in surprise. You know you finally have him.

“I’m the victim,” You continue basking in the attention. Retaining more satisfying heat from his gaze alone than the husky fluorescent buzzing above you both. You are suddenly all too aware that the library is deserted.

“I’m supposed to be coaxed into your car. That’s how it works right? Like Bundy."

You lazily swing your gaze back from the window until you meet his eyes that have bled into an even darker shade of gold. So dark the gold has vanished completely, actually, leaving two soulless depths. His eyes scream, ‘how do you know?’

His jaw is tightened like screws and his fist is clenched so tight it should spout blood.

But there is no blood, is there? Dead things lose all of that.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about-” You lift a hand up. Right there, right in front of his stone face, silencing him immediately.

“That dance gets a little bit tedious, doesn’t it?” You laugh loudly into the hollow air filled with nothing but raindrops and thunder. “A little bit boring?” You give him a smirk. “I know one thing your little family specialises in isn't boredom.”

You make the unforeseen move of stepping back from your computer, slowly making a show of sauntering around the desk. Sunghoon's dark irises track you like a sniper and you revel in it.

You must stop your hands from fisting at your own sides.

You must maintain the little control you have, or it might just cost you your life.

“You're wrong,” he says, “The books. They’re not all Victorian.”

He’s stalling. Deflecting. Trying to distract himself from your nearing frame.

“Frankenstein,” he continues, “Shelley published it in 1818, that’s just short of the start of Victoria’s reign.”

You give him a small, tight-lipped smile.

“Hm. You would know though, wouldn’t you?”

He is pulled into silence.

“But back to your little lie.” Your path is set and your mind is made. “Vampire's daylighting as average university students? That’s a good fucking story.” You nod slowly, “A good fucking story.” You take small, tentative strides closer to him. Not wanting to engage too quickly. Sunghoon was big, tall and looming. Having that kind of frame tense- more tense than he already is, would only result in a blood bath. Your blood bath.

“Everyone at school, everyone in this town thinks you’re all so goddamn close but you wanna know what I think?” You saunter closer and he inhales sharply.

“No.”

You tsk and click your tongue, not stopping your calm gait whatsoever until his scent completely enveloped you. So empty and… dead.

A smell that can’t be masked by the most expensive cologne and yet you enjoyed it. It made your blood race and if what you knew was true, then he could hear the erratics of your heart as well. You wanted him to.

“See, Hoonie-”

“Sunghoon.”

“Hoonie. Why else would you be entertaining this nonsense?” You continue moving closer until his back is pressed against the wooden desk, looking down at you with a near pitch black abyss. You look up at him, feigning innocent doe eyes as you pressed your voluminous chest against him. You dare even let your hand drift over his black, cotton sweater.

“I could-” Sunghoon's eyes flutter closed before he snaps them open again. “I could hurt you. But you know that, don’t you?” A finger slips itself under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

Or so you thought.

He continues to lift your chin until you were looking up at the fluorescent light. Then, and only then, did you understand that he was baring your neck to him.

“Aw, Sunghoon.” You chastise lightly, still letting him do with you as you please. Unbeknownst to him, you were leaning in closer, letting your hand slip onto the desk behind him until you found just what you were looking for.

Letter opener.

“I’m counting on you to hurt me, Silly.”

You finally pull back, before he can lower himself further in-before he could go in for the kill.

You aim the sharp two-edged blade of the letter opener into your left palm and, with all the reserve in the world, you cut a long, shallow gash all the way in.

The very second your palm stains crimson, Sunghoon's entire build begins to shake. His chest begins to heave uncontrollably. His face is perfectly the same but somehow you still hear the hungry tufts of air leaving his nostrils, even over the raging rain outside and you smile.

“Trust me.” You say,

“I’m counting on you hurting me,”

“You’re really goddamn stupid, you know that?“ He says cockily, feigning his control when his pitch black eyes are a dead giveaway. The pupils are trained on the beoken skin along your palm and that alone. The blood has begun dripping aimlessly down your palm and you hold it up to him, showing him his prize. Showing him everything he’s been missing.

"Maybe I am. Maybe I’m crazy and stupid.” You discard the letter opener on the carpet beside you. It clunks to the ground and you let out a little sigh.

“You can go ahead and bite me Sung-” You might not explicitly be on a nickname basis, but you figured now was as good a time as any to familiarise yourself with each other, since-

“You’re gonna turn me."

Sunghoon finally rips his onyx eyes away from the dripping crimson faucet and he stares down at you questioningly.

"Why would I do that?” Some hair has fallen in front of his left eye but he makes no move to brush it away, so naturally, you do it for him… using your bleeding left hand.

“Well… because you’re you. And self restraint isn’t very you, Sunghoon.” You tuck the dark strand, now stained lightly with your blood, behind his ear and you begin to trail your hand slowly down the side of his face. Sunghoon's eyes flutter closed and he leans, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, right into your bleeding grip. He turns his head sideways and inhales sharply.

“I knew it.” You marvel at the boy before you. “Sure it was just a theory but- it all fell serendipitously into place: The absent days when it’s sunny out. The deathly paleness. The untouched lunch trays. The old ass books that probably give away your real age.” His eyes are still closed and he is still moving his cheek against your bleeding hand. He hums unintelligibly.

“The ice cold skin was my final check.”

“How clever.”

He produces the first smile you’ve ever seen and the beauty of it releases a wave of endorphins and butterflies in your gut. “You want a cookie for that?” He has a dangerously gorgeous lopsided grin that, coupled with the gleaming, pointed canines that have emerged, leaves your pulse quickening in more places than your heart.

“What’s to stop me from ripping you open right now? There’s no one here. No one will be here in time to stop me from killing you.” He turns to look at you and you almost gasp at how severely sexy your smeared blood on his cheek looks.

“Give me reasons.” He urges with his voice bouncing off the walls.

“I need reasons or-” his eyes flutter closed “-or I just might do it. I will kill you.”

You needed to maintain control. But in that moment you knew and feared that you and him were beginning to realise that your dominant reserve was slipping right through your fingers. It was your turn in the hot seat. Okay.

You got what you wanted. Find out what you needed to find out. But all that came at a price.

You try to keep your voice steady as you answer him.

“As much as it annoys you and me, Sunghoon, it is a fact that you wanna fit in with everyone else.” Sunghoon's eyes never leave yours as you continue talking. “You probably never really had a home and this town allows you to blend in with the rest of us.” He breathes deeply through his nose. “Killing the bookkeeper would put this little fantasy life you've built for yourself in jeopardy,” Your breathing is irregular and harsh and you look at his lips and oh god you need to taste him.

“But you’re still you, Sunghoon. This town can’t and never will change that fact. You’re not like the rest of us,” You finally say, “You’re not-”

In a blur and manipulation of time, space and all the little things in between, you’ve been transported with a swift dash across the room until you were being held by the throat against a bookshelf. Pain stems from the sudden and rapid movement but the firm and unwavering squeeze on your throat, elicits a wave of lust.

“I’m done playing your little mind games.” He’s seething and he’s angry and he’s right where you want him.

“Oh? But we were having so much fun, Sung-” He squeezes your windpipe, so incredibly close to crushing it.

“What do you want?”

You let the first ever genuine smile slip onto your face.

“For you to turn me, Hoonie."

He pauses. Quite literally.

Sunghoon's rapid breathing goes to a complete stand still and his form goes as still as a statue. You deduce that this is him thinking. He’s mapping out all the possible shit storms this would conjure up for him and his precious family and you hold the will to roll your eyes. After a few stunted seconds, Sunghoon eases back again.

"Once I start-”

“You won’t stop? Sunghoon, we’ve been eye fucking this entire time. I'm not sure what it is about Blackmail that gets you off but it's not difficult to see how bad you need it.” He squeezes your throat again in warning, already telling you all you need to know.

He's not sure why he's attracted to you. He shouldn't be. Whether its the fact that you should already be dead for even knowing his secret- for thinking you can offee him an ultimatimatum- its your sheer fucking guts that has him warming with attraction.

Your words slowly bring him up for air. “If there’s one thing stronger than your need to feast,” You lift that hand up once again, “-its your need to fuck. Vampires are immortal so they draw pleasure from the little things. The pleasurable things. That bulge in your pants can’t go unnoticed, Sunghoon, no matter how long you want it t-”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes before he murmurs: “Just shut up,”

He crashes his lips right onto yours. The kiss is not only electric but it’s magnetic. As if you would not be able to pull away even if you wanted to. And his firm grip on your throat keeps you there. It’s strong and he squeezes as he licks on your bottom lip, coaxing the opening out of you. So naturally, you moan, and the bastard uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.

You needn’t open your eyes to see he was half-smiling into your kiss. That little nugget of information made you need him even more. During your kiss, you squeeze your legs together. Sunghoon hums disapprovingly in your mouth, sending his other hand down your thigh, urging them apart.

“You can’t do that.” He breaks the kiss and says the words at a perfectly even breathe, meanwhile you were a heaving mess.

“What?” You inquire dumbly, all too focused on his hand on your jeans to rather give a fuck about anything else.

“Pathokinesis.” Is all he says before he ducks down into the crook of your neck, ripping the gasp out of your lungs by force. His large hand around your throat moves up to your cheek, rubbing the skin with his thumb softly.

“Don’t do that.” He says into your neck before venturing to flick his tongue out, licking the skin and driving you all too insane. You almost don’t register his words but the weight of his revelation has you tumbling to your senses momentarily.

“What? So you can like-”

“Sense and manipulate your emotions?” He says, coming up from your neck. “Yeah.” He nods once before he takes your mouth in his once more.

“What you feel,” he mumbles in between the kiss, “I feel too."

Yet another gasp strains your throat when you feel two sharp teeth graze against the skin of your plump bottom lips as Sunghoon pulls away.

Have you really thought any of your movements through?

What if sex with a vampire was fatal?

You’re about to spiral into oblivion before Sunghoon speaks up.

"No.” He says curtly, and you’re all too aware of the hand trying to push past your denim jeans. “You’re not pulling back on me now. Not after everything.” You’re in awe of his words.

“Jesus, so you really can feel everything.”

That life threatening smile again.

“Pretty much.”

He begins to undo the buttons of your pants tentatively, almost meticulously, as if you were fortunate to have all the time in the world. You’re about to urge him to hurry the fuck up but one of the shelves behind your head collapses. Books fall to a sad heap on the floor and the wood is snapped in tiny pieces. Sunghoon's hand was leaning against that particular shelf.

Maybe he’s not as calm as he’d like to convey.

“There is one thing,” the buttons are undone but he’s stopped moving his fingers. They are in fact paused on the lining of your underwear. The material is calmly in between his index and thumb, creating the sickest, most twisted need you’ve ever felt. You almost abandon modesty and grind into him right then and there.

His next words however, have you almost wanting to keel over in grief.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he says with a sick smile.

“Why?” It's all you can manage and suddenly, you think the universe must be smiling at the irony of this situation. The encounter had begun with You as the master of this blackmail, yet here you were, grovelling for him.

“I think you’re really good at getting what you want,” he says, leaning forward and slowly, oh so slowly, letting his hand slip into the fabric. The graze of his fingers on you cunt alone making you almost sob out in need.

“And I’m not gonna allow that.” He concludes before pushing his hand all the way in. Sunghoon does nothing but snicker when he feels the pool of wetness.

“This is how this is gonna work,” he uses his free hand to pick up your limp left one. The wound is of considerable size however, the blood is not flowing as much but it’s still there.

“You’re gonna give me this.” He lifts your limp hand up and you comply like a puppet on a string. “And I’m gonna give you this.” His fingers-the index and the middle,- flick over your clit, causing you to let out an aching whimper.

“Got it?” He’s already placing your bloody palm against his plump lips and you’re too enamoured. Too enamoured at the sight of his tongue sticking out and lapping at the blood as if it were a healing potent. You’re too enamoured to respond and he does not like this one bit.

Sunghoon flicks another finger against your clit.

“JESUS!” You scream into the empty library. Sunghoon, who’s eyes were closed, shoots open and he hums disapprovingly.

“No,” he says irritably, “Sunghoon. Say Sunghoon.”

You’re a drunken, sex filled mess. “Fuck-Sunghoon.” He smiles, satisfied, before returning to your palm. You begin to grind into his fingers and his chuckles.

“Sung… Sunghoon please.” There are tears staining your eyes and you’re so completely torn apart. The thrill of it being in a public setting. The rain. The licking on your palm. It’s too much.

Way too fucking much.

“Please? Please let you finish?” Sunghoon asks mockingly and a sob releases from your throat as your hips begin to buck into his hands. “You’d like me to let you cum all over my hand?”

“Please, Hoonie. Please.”

“That’s a shame…” He replies, “I thought we were having so much fun.” You do not even have the strength to act stunned at having your words being flung back at you, you’re too focused on the fingers that have slipped inside of you and the hissing noise escaping Sunghoon's throat.

It’s all so unbelievable. Sunghoon pulls back and hisses loudly. Your heart stops at the sight of his canines elongating even further but that all falls away when he sinks them further into your palm. Biting down.

Hard.

“Hoon..” You're completely out of it. The fingers slide in and out and in and out, searching rapidly for your g-spot, but in the very same breath, there’s a sharp, bright and blinding pain in your left palm, letting the tears fall as they may.

“Fuck, Sunghoon! Oh god! It hurts! It hurts so fucking bad!” You’re sobbing but his fingers inside you are relentless and his sucking, even more so. You feel like nothing but an object of his pleasure as your hand begins to grow numb. Sure he was bringing you to orgasm, the very same time you felt even that was for his own pleasure.

Never had you experienced a pain quite like this. This pain felt otherworldly. Diabolical. As if someone were ripping the nails right out of your fingers. As if you slammed the car door in on your hand repeatedly.

And the pain. God, the pain is white and bright, you fear passing out may be inevitable.

Sunghoon brings his head up, releasing his fangs from your palm but continuing his assault by licking and sucking on the two indents. “I know, my beautiful, beautiful girl,” he says, “I know."

The sobs stop, perhaps because you want to hear his voice. Perhaps because you feed on his praises. "You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he mutters unsoundly in between his licks, “So pretty, so perfect.” You realise he’s as delirious as you, his eyes are wide, gazing down at the madwoman before him with his own madness swirling in his irises. His lips are stained red and somehow that sets you over the edge.

“Hoonie?”

His eyes are red. Blood red. You gasp. “I’m-” You don’t finish the sentence, already feeling your orgasm crest as you carelessly fling yourself over the edge. It hits you and you forget all about the pain. All about the blood.

“That’s it, my pretty, pretty girl.” He encourages and your body is shaking violently against the book rack. Your eyes are screwed shut and you’re rocking uncontrollably into his hand.

In that moment, Sunghoon may have thought that he gained everything, but you gained far more. And when you come out of that high, once the fog cleared and the rain simmered down to a tiny, light pitter patter.

You begin to feel…

New.

“Welcome to immortality, Beautiful.” He whispers in your ear with that recognizable lopsided smirk.

You feel… empty. Drained. You feel nothing at all.

“Population… You”

[earlysunshines]

jealousy looks great on you

hanni pham x fem!reader

synopsis: is she the asshole? hanni—female, 20 years old—pretends to act oblivious to her girlfriend being jealous because she thinks her gf looks soooo good when she’s bothered and protective

warnings: aespa member!reader ; i forgor the order of all of hannis shoots and stuff so pretend its in order ; nothing else??? ; haha kissing making out hahabhahahahjekekkeke ; not proofread, lillll rushed

a/n: am i the asshole for not knowing the order of each hanni gucci sponsor/campaign/event…

everyone and their mom knows that hanni is gorgeous. she's stunning both on the outside and inside, so it isn’t surprising that she’s the global ambassador of gucci.

unfortunately for you, her beloved girlfriend, that means a handful of others get to witness her beauty. you’ve come to terms that she’s not for your eyes only, but it still pains you regardless.

the first time it happened — hanni’s shoots coming out without you knowing beforehand — you were bothered, though not to such an extent.

as you were on the way to your girlfriend’s dorm, you had come across photos on twitter that showed you just what she had been up to. hanni posted phoning updates, and the first thought that echoed in your head was the fact that she would rather send pictures to her fans before you? hell, she never even texted you a selfie or anything.

when you had arrived at her dorm, opening the door with the spare key, you were met with minji making tea in the kitchen. you greeted her hastily, pursing your lips into a smile before crashing in your girlfriend’s room.

you were lounging on hanni’s bed, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, when you heard the door to her dorm click open less than an hour later. your head snapped up as hanni walked in, fresh from her gucci shoot, her face lighting up when she saw you.

"hey, baby," she said softly, setting her bags down with a smile. "what are you doing here? i thought you had schedules tomorrow."

you grinned, leaning back against the pillows casually. "wanted to surprise you." you said with a playful lilt. "i snuck out of the sm dorms to see you."

hanni’s eyebrows raised, amused. "snuck out? just for me?"

you shrugged, trying to play it off coolly, but there was a certain edge to your tone when you spoke again. "yeah, well... i figured i should spend some time with my girlfriend. since she’s apparently too busy being a gucci ambassador to tell me about her shoot. you never told me you had one." the words came out more snarky than you intended, and hanni looked at you, confused.

"what?" she asked, a soft laugh escaping her. she didn’t seem to catch on to your subtle jealousy, but you kept your expression nonchalant. 

"nevermind." you waved it off, sitting up and pulling her closer by her waist as she stood next to the bed. "just thought it was funny how i found out about your shoot at the same time as everyone else."

"huh?" she blinked at you, clearly still confused but too tired to overthink it. she stepped between your legs, leaning into your touch. "oh, i didn’t even think about that... i’m sorry," she said genuinely, but you just shook your head, your fingers tightening around her waist.

"it’s whatever," it’s half of a lie. a smirk pulls at your lips as you tugged her down onto the bed beside you. "i’m here now, so i guess you’ll just have to make up for lost time."

before hanni could say anything else, you started peppering her neck and jawline with soft kisses, your lips brushing against her skin in a way that made her shiver. her breath hitched, and she tilted her head to give you more access, her confusion from earlier completely forgotten.

"you’re so clingy tonight," she whispered, her voice laced with amusement as she wrapped her arms around you. "...not that i’m complaining."

"clingy? me?" you teased, your hands sliding under the hem of her shirt as you continued kissing her, your lips lingering a little longer on her pulse. "i’m just giving you the attention you deserve. you know, more than your fans could ever give."

hanni let out a soft laugh, her eyes fluttering shut as she melted into your touch. "you’re cute when you’re like this."

"you think so?" you smirked, pulling back just enough to look at her, your fingers tracing slow circles on her waist. you leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear as you whispered, "i’m just giving you what you want."

hanni’s cheeks flushed, her heart racing as your lips grazed her skin again. she didn’t question your behavior anymore, too caught up in the moment, and truthfully, she loved seeing you like this—playful, affectionate, and just a little bit possessive.

"you’re a tease," she mumbled, but her voice was breathless, and you could feel her hands tightening around you, holding you closer. you grinned, pressing one last kiss to her neck before pulling back with a satisfied smirk.

"maybe," you raise your brows before continuing, "but you like it, don’t you?"

hanni rolled her eyes playfully, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. "yeah, i do."

you held her close, the jealousy still simmering in the back of your mind, but it didn’t really matter anymore. being here with her, pampering her with affection, made it all fade away. and hanni—oblivious to the little hint of jealousy—just thought you were being extra sweet, and that was enough for you.

—

it happens again a month later.

you were sitting at the kitchen island, scrolling through twitter with a frown as you mindlessly picked at your breakfast. the usual conversation between your members filled the dorm, but you were too distracted by your phone to engage. you kept staring at the pictures of hanni from her gucci shoot, looking gorgeous without even trying in every shot. the problem wasn’t that she looked amazing—the problem was that you had found out about it the same way everyone else had. again.

aeri, who noticed your unusually grumpy expression, raised an eyebrow as she sat down across from you. "what’s up with you?" she asks, taking a sip of her juice. "you look like someone just took your switch. did you lose your animal crossing card again?”

you didn’t answer, scrolling with a deeper frown, your breakfast was barely dented. aeri wasn’t having it though, and before you could stop her, she reached across the counter and snatched your phone out of your hand.

"hey!" you protested, but she had already seen the screen.

"ohhhh," she grinned, holding the phone up. "so this is why you’re all moody. your girlfriend is eating." she swiped through the photos, admiring the outfits and the way hanni posed—effortlessly and elegantly.

minjeong and jimin, hearing the commotion, walked over. "what’s going on?" minjeong asks, leaning over aeri’s shoulder to peek at your phone. when she saw the pictures, her eyes widened. “woah. your girlfriends really pretty.”

“i know. stop staring so hard.” you scold, grabbing the phone back. you look at it again and put your cheek on top of your palm. “but i just found out about the shoot. i’m finding out about all these things the same time as her fucking fans.”

jimin chuckles, sitting down next to you. "so, why didn’t she send you these pictures first? shouldn’t the lover get the exclusive preview?"

"right!" you blurted out, your frustration finally spilling over. "i’m her girlfriend, and i had to find out with the rest of twitter. you’re telling me i’m the same priority as a fucking stan account? i love hanni, like so fucking much, but i just… i don’t know, i really wanted to be the first one to see her like this. i wanted the exclusive." you crossed your arms, feeling a bit ridiculous now that you said it out loud.

aeri, minjeong, and jimin exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter.

"you’re such a loser," minjeong teases, nudging you with her elbow. "i can’t believe you’re pouting over this."

"i’m not pouting," you grumbled through a pout.

jimin patted your back sympathetically, though she was still grinning. "look, i get it — kinda. but you’ve gotta admit, she looks really good. like, really good."

you couldn’t argue with that. your eyes drifted back to your phone. hanni looked incredible, and despite your initial grumpiness, you couldn’t help but stare at the pictures again, 

"yeah…" you muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips. "she looks amazing. so stop staring so hard at her.” you add, hiding your phone from your members dramatically.

aeri looked at you with a smirk. "it’s not so bad. you’re still her number one, even if twitter got the pictures first."

“fuck you,” you sigh, poking at your breakfast.

jimin laughs, shaking her head. "just text her later and ask for your own special ‘phoning’ update. i’m sure she’ll send you something.

you sigh, already feeling your mood lift a little as you turn on your phone, gazing at the photos again. "yeah, maybe i will."

your members tease you a little more before they let it go, but you couldn’t help but replay the thought of hanni looking so good, feeling just a little more eager to see her later. even if you didn’t get the first look, she was still yours, and that was enough — in a sense.

—

it was not enough in any sense. your schedule is too busy for you to really think about it though.

this time it was time for an important shoot on your schedule. you stand in front of the mirror, letting the stylist adjust your outfit for the prada shoot. the makeup artists had done an incredible job, and your stylist had put together a look that was nothing short of flawless. feeling confident, you snapped a few pictures of yourself in the mirror, making sure to capture every angle. after reviewing them, you immediately sent them to hanni, grinning as you opened facetime and waited for her to pick up.

when she did, hanni’s face lit up the second she saw you on the screen. "oh my god," she said, eyes wide with admiration as she took in your look. "you look so, holy— i hate you, you know?"

right,” you chuckled, feeling your heart skip a beat at the way she was looking at the screen with such amazement in her eyes. "i figured you’d like the outfit," you said, grinning as you showed her the full look by angling the phone at your attire. "they really went all out with this one."

"i love it," she says, biting her lip as she watched you through the screen. "you’re seriously killing me right now. i don’t know how i’m supposed to function after seeing this. are you insane?”

you felt your cheeks warm at her words, even though you were used to her compliments. "thanks, idiot," you murmur, unable to stop yourself from smiling like a loser. "but you know, you never sent me any pictures from your gucci shoots. i had to find out through twitter the last two times, you know?"

your tone was light, and you tried to keep it casual, but you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips. hanni noticed immediately, and instead of addressing your playful complaint, she laughed softly.

"oh, we’re talking about that, huh?" she teases, her voice playful. "are you trying to guilt-trip me?"

you snickered, then shrugged, acting like it wasn’t a big deal, but you couldn’t hide the teasing smile tugging at your lips. "i’m just saying. i’d like my own special update, you know? i’m your girlfriend, after all."

hanni laughs again, but instead of responding to your comment, she flirted back without missing a beat. "well, you look too good for me to think straight right now, so maybe we’ll talk about it later," she said with a small smirk.

you roll your eyes playfully, but the warmth in your chest didn’t fade. "sure, just flirt your way out of it, as usual.”

"hmm, is it working?" she asks, tilting her head with a playful glint in her eyes.

you pout even more exaggeratedly. "maybe…"

hanni’s soft laugh made you melt, and even though she didn’t give you the exclusive photos you wanted, you couldn’t be mad when she was looking at you like that. she was still admiring you through the screen, biting her lip in a way that made your heart race.

"you’re kind of really hot." she admits absentmindedly.

"yeah?" you asked, feeling a flutter in your chest.

"yeah," she admitted. "like, seriously. the pictures you sent are soooooooo…”

you smirk, feeling a bit of pride swell up inside you. "good. you deserve to suffer after what you did to me with that gucci shoot."

hanni laughs again, shaking her head. "fine, fine. i’ll send you some pictures next time, but for now, just know that i’m maybe a little in love with you. i think i have a crush on you."

you couldn’t help but laugh at that, any lingering pout quickly disappearing. "really?” you joke.

“maybe.” she giggles. “i’ll let you go on and be all hot for the cameras, okay?”

“mhm, i love you.”

“i love you more.” hanni says, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.

—

again. of course it happens again.

you were casually scrolling through your phone during a break at the dorm, not expecting much until you came across her.

hanni’s newest shoot, the one that had her trending all over social media, literally every platform. your jaw immediately dropped. she was in milan, draped in a top that left her entire back exposed, and the way she carried it—confident, stunning—it was like she owned the entire world in that moment. you froze, eyes glued to the screen, unable to tear your gaze away.

even worse, you really can’t tell at this point, was the photos of her in the car. her hair sat perfectly and made her features stand out, the way she looked at the camera made your lips part slightly, and you couldn’t be more amazed.

minjeong, sitting across from you, noticed your reaction instantly. "what’s going on with you?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "you look like you’ve just seen a ghost."

you didn’t respond, too busy staring at the photos. your thumb mindlessly swiped through image after image, each one worse than the last because hanni just looked that good. she was a whole flight away from you, looking like that, and you were here, losing your mind over it.

jimin peers over your shoulder, curious. "is this about hanni again?"

you blink, realizing you haven’t said a word. "…maybe."

aeri snickered, leaning in to see what you were looking at. "let me guess—oh, wow." her eyes widened as she took in the photos. "okay, I get it. no wonder you’re freaking out. jesus christ.”

you felt a wave of heat creep up your neck as the rest of aespa started glancing at your phone, throwing teasing comments about how smitten you looked. but all you could focus on was hanni, her back out for the world to see, and you needed her back here — both her and her back, and her in that top, and her, just her —with you, immediately.

you genuinely couldn’t take it anymore. without a second thought, you screenshotted one of the tweets, zooming in on the picture that was making you lose your senses. you opened your messages with hanni, sent the image, and typed out, “we need to have a talk when you’re back.”

it was a simple message, but you knew hanni would understand the underlying meaning — to an extent. the second you hit send, your heart raced, imagining her reaction.

hanni was in milan, probably busy with her schedule, but you pictured her reading your text and furrowing her brows in confusion. an hour later, she replied with a simple, “what the hell??”followed by a flurry of mixes of punctuation, numbers, and signs.

you bit your lip, fighting back a grin. the rest of your members were still laughing at how flustered you were, but you didn’t care. all you knew was that the second hanni got back, you were going to have a very important conversation with her.

(maybe one that started with a kiss.)

—

hanni had gotten back to seoul a day after you sent the message. to be completely honest, she had been thinking about the message since you sent it.

she didn’t even have time to go to her room, immediately unwinding in the living room and grabbing an extra pack of pj’s in her backpack to bring to the bathroom.

she finished and changed into your t-shirt and her old plaid pants. she opened the door to her room, fresh from her shower with her damp hair falling onto her shoulders, she barely had time to react when you suddenly pulled her in, pinning her to the door with a soft but fixed grip.

she gasps, her eyes wide with surprise.

one: hanni didn’t expect to see you so soon. two: wow, you’re really close and she can’t even deny that this isn’t the slightest bit… hot.

“why didn’t you show me those pictures, huh?” your voice was low, but there was a teasing edge in it as you leaned in closer, your face just inches from hers. “why do i have to find out about your shoots at the same time as your fans? i’m your girlfriend, hanni. i should’ve seen it first.”

hanni tilted her head, smiling up at you as she tried to hold back a laugh. “so this is what it’s been all about?” she asks, her voice playful. “i knew you were just jealous.”

“i’m not jealous,” you deny immediately, but your grip on her waist tightens just a little, and you could feel the heat crawling up your neck. the way hanni was looking at you, with that smug, knowing smile, wasn’t helping your case at all.

“oh, come on,” she teases, her voice soft and alluring as she brought a hand up to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “you’ve been acting all weird just because i didn’t send you pictures first?”

you huff, turning your head slightly. “i just think it’s fair that i get a sneak peek. is that so much to ask?” 

hanni grins, clearly entertained by how flustered you were. she leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “you know... you look really good when you’re jealous.”

your demeanor faltered. her words, her tone, the way she was looking at you with those teasing eyes, ones that stared more intensely than in the photos—it was all too much. your lips brushed against her jawline, soft and slow, and you heard her inhale sharply. your hands, now resting on her waist, pulled her even closer, and she practically melted against you.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” you mumble between kisses, trailing from her jaw to her neck, your lips lingering longer as you felt her shift in your arms, her breath hitching slightly.

hanni’s laughter was lighter now, softer, as she squirmed just enough to maneuver herself out of your grip and guide you over to her bed. before you knew it, she was in your lap, straddling you, her arms wrapped around your shoulders, and that teasing smile was back on her lips.

“you’re really gonna deny being jealous?” she questions, running her fingers through your hair, her touch sending little shivers down your spine. “you look like, really good when you are.”

you pout, though the effect was probably lost with how warm and flustered you felt under her gaze. “shut up.” you groan.

hanni’s grin only widened.

“see? wasn’t so hard to admit, was it?” she pokes at your nerves, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple, then to the corner of your mouth.

you groan, pulling her closer, your hands firm on her waist as she shifted in your lap. “fine. but just so you know, i’ll be expecting all the teaser images.”

“your job is getting to you.”

“shh.”

hanni laughs, her fingers tracing lightly over your collarbone. “deal. though, i kind of like you like this,” she adds, her voice softening as she looked down at you. “all pouty and clingy. might make you more jealous on purpose again cutie.”

you roll your eyes, but can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, here we are,” she whispers, her lips ghosting over yours before pressing against them in a soft, lingering kiss that made your heart race all over again.

[tastesousweet]

roommate!hamzah x reader . . .

summary: little headcannons i have ab these 2!!! they’re just friends of course (wink)!!

a/n: hiii i’m slowly working on hamzah requests, ty to those who send them in for me <3

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . tends to do his morning routine without a shirt on (grabbing coffee, feeding the cats, sitting on the balcony while responding to texts he’s put off for far too long)

it’s never bothered you because you’re rarely awake early enough to know of it. yet one morning hamzah is mortified by your hook up from the night before, awake and attempting to crack jokes with him as he pours the remaining orange juice into a soft magenta-stained mug that a girlfriend had gifted you last christmas.

hamzah's eyes give a silent glare at both the audacity (of this random man who's decided to parade around the kitchen that is fifty percent his in nothing but those loose boxer shorts!) and out of disgust (he'd unfortunately heard a lot of last night's... action from his room down the hall and he hates that he now has a face to associate with the trauma).

there's a awkward tension that is clearly not reciprocated by the brash and flamboyant guy leaning against the fridge door with a smirk.

hamzah keeps his arms crossed over his own bare chest, stood next to the coffee machine- and for once he’s actually annoyed by the slow frequency of the coffee's stream and the accommodating, overwhelming smell. but he's starting to think it must be your fling’s presence that's causing everything around him to feel a bit violating.

“ummmm….” he’d delay with a deep exhale, unsure how to end a conversation he never asked to begin

the guy would take a long sip of orange juice, “i’m just wondering like, how long have you two lived together? she didn’t even tell me she lived with anyone so— i mean, it’s not everyday you see a girl hot as that living with some guy!" he pauses, "oh…wait, come on man you had to have hit by now…” he babbles on and hamzah stares blankly, stifling a laugh when it comes to the last assumption.

“man, i’m just tryna’ enjoy my breakfast…” hamzah wishes he’d never left his bedroom so early.

the guy nods his head, “yeah…yeah i get that. i should get back to y/n and stuff. she sleeps kinda heavy, huh?”

hamzah nods absentmindedly, sipping his black coffee and making his way out of the kitchen, “guess so…” he stops and looks back at him with a look of slight disgust, “next time at least put some pants on dude, cmon.”

later that day hamzah tells you about it and you laugh so hard you almost fall off of the soft brown couch. “oh my god!!!!” you laugh through your words, “was your masculinity challenged?! did you feel threatened?? maybe he was trying to eye you up- you were practically naked...” you have a grin that makes hamzah subconsciously grin with you, forcing him to overcompensate due to your implications.

"absolutely none of those things?! what the fuck??? no. he was a fuckin' dog, even asked me if we've..." hamzah stutters a bit while gesturing between the two of you.

your face is shocked first as you both silently gesture between the two of you, occasionally making more grotesque and sexual movements to which you both begin to laugh. "no way! that guy has nothing but mush for brains."

hamzah bites his inner cheek harshly, tightening a grip on the circle pillow in his large arm, "yeah..."

you keep your gaze on your fingers fidgeting with the couch before a smirk inches onto your face and your head slowly turns towards hamzah.

it still surprises him how nervous you can make him with something as simple and intriguing as your eye contact, so he flusters up a bit and sputters a soft laugh, "what?" he reaches for the remote on the coffee table to distract himself.

you hum to yourself and pick up a mini twizzler from the small candy dish in the center of the table before plopping yourself down, resting your head on the pillow sat in hamzah's lap.

hamzah attempts to keep his demeanor intact as you snuggle yourself into comfort (so much so, your tiny spaghetti strap on your loose sleep top falls down your shoulder in beautiful imperfection).

you struggle with attempting to unwrap the red candy before hamzah eventually offers to help, "y'want me to do it?"

"please?" you nod and shift to look directly up at him rather than the tv.

"mhm..." he easily uses his teeth to open it, "and i'm taking a piece for my hard work."

"uh huh, sharing is caring"

not only does hamzah feed himself a peel of the twizzler, he holds a piece above your mouth which you take from him with a giggle, "mm, thank you"

hamzah's eyes almost explode when he wakes up a week later to see you making yourself a smoothie clad only in a bra and silky sleep shorts. you'd laugh at him and tell him he's so fragile and he'd claim you're trying to steal his thing while covering his eyes dramatically.

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . you like to play harmless pranks on in good spirits and post on your close friends story , calling it “hamzah hijinks”

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . helps you cook or bake whenever you find a new recipe to try out on pinterest— at times they're even filmed and treated as competitions between you and mandy versus hamzah and martin

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . finds it difficult to not have a crush on you when his audience constantly tells him otherwise

there are plenty of shipping posts that come from your appearances and mentions on his channel but from your attitude hamzah's convinced you must not be aware of them or are truly that unbothered by anyone's opinion

clips such as you wiping flour from his cheek to which he joked, “okay stop it now, you know that really ignites my mommy issues”

or when you guest starred on a patreon episode of the podcast, adding small tidbits to the conversation while petting blue and eating a strawberry popsicle. leading hamzah to over reach and pet blue with you randomly, which many fans found cute— like you were a family

or whenever martin would bring you up and hamzah would immediately focus on what he says afterwards— many viewers have concluded he’s obsessed with you

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . now edits his youtube videos in the living room with your legs draped over his shoulders so that you can watch and help him when necessary (but mostly because of your abundantly clear physical love language)

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . thinks it’s really sweet that you can find a piece of him in any and everything without trying

“so i was out…”

hamzah leans his forearms against the island counter with a grin and his headset shifted from his ears (you interrupted his gaming and told him to come see you afterwards but he insisted on pausing for you) “uh huhhh??”

“andddd… i found a cute small shop and guess what they specialize in?!!!!”

“what??!!!”

“custom sonny angels!! so i got one for each of us.” you smile wide, “it’s crazy i just showed them a picture of us and they based the outfits on it. look at them!!!”

hamzah opens the box and finds the two small figures; one garnering his iconic nap queen hoodie and the other in one of your cute red babydoll tops. his mouth is wide for an extra second, “oh my god it’s us as lil’ babies” he laughs, “that’s so fucking cool, how much did you pay for this?”

“don’t worry about that. while i was waiting for them to paint those i also got you this nice green shirt from urban i just like this shade on you.” you held up the shirt and hamzah hugs you gently thanking you again with a short kiss to the top of your head.

“now lemme see what you got for yourself.”

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . surprisingly finds you hiding away in the en-suite bathroom during a party you’re both hosting

“i didn’t think you would be in here??” he says while shutting the door behind him and taking a seat next to you on the bathroom floor

“i’m surprised to see you in here i lost you somewhere between martin showing up and that group of girls whisking you away.” you genuinely joke.

hamzah chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, “yeah it’s really not like that— i’m really not like that.”

“i know you.” you smile at his oddly nervous face.

“why’d you end up in here?” he sighs and gives your side a soft tap of acknowledgment.

“i thought i just needed to use the bathroom but then i started to find myself way happier alone in here than out there right now.”

“i feel that. i don’t know if half of those people even know this is my house.”

“i know most of them don’t know this is my house.”

hamzah laughs and lets his head hang into the open space of his bent legs, to which you take the opportunity to steal his hat from his head, plopping it on top of yours.

“come on bruh, that was supposed to cover up this mess!” hamzah jokes referring to his wildly curly hair.

“it’s far from a mess hamzah, please.” and when he turns to you, you cradle his head with both hands, scratching softly at his scalp to help revive his hat-hair.

he stares at you kindly, “mm’hold on let me see it,” he gently pulls your hands away and stands to look into the mirror. “oh my god it’s fucking horrid.”

you stand up to defend as if you crafted his hair yourself, “stop it! it looks fine,” you lean onto your tip toes to fluff it a little more, “i like it like this,”

“oh really?” he exaggerates a lift of his eyebrows and manages to catch your eye in the mirror for a second before you look away bashfully.

“hey! don’t get all shy now,” he looks behind him and confidently wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, “it’s okay. i like yours like this,” he smiles and you roll your eyes playfully.

“‘m not gettin’ shy!” you wrap your arms around his lower torso and bury your head in his chest before you pop the question, reaching up to whisper in his ear, “did max bring you more weed??”

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . hotboxes your bathroom with you, making sure to bring any snacks from the crowded kitchen for the munchies that will undoubtedly come afterward

this is one of the few times you’ve got a real good look in hamzah’s eyes.

the bathroom reeks of weed and the two of you (mostly you) decided that sitting face to face was far better than side by side. it was silent for a while before you felt the need to speak about his eyes.

“did you know your eyes aren’t black?” you ask.

hamzah shakes his head slowly.

“well they have the tiniest brownie-brown to them but you’d only know if you’re like this close,” you jokingly move close enough to touch your noses together.

hamzah looks over your entire face, realizing he’s never been this physically close to you before. you glance at his lips then to his glossy red eyes.

“you smell like coconut cookies,” hamzah smiles.

you sit back on your calves, across from him with his legs crossed, “i think it’s my shampoo,” you play around with a few strands.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you nod before sitting up again, resting your hands lightly on his thighs to hold yourself up, “do you wanna do something?”

he stares at you for a moment, “like what?”

“do you trust me?” he finds that your eyes glimmer extra when they’ve got that certain puffiness and widened pupil combination.

“yeah, ‘f course, but what are we doinggg?” hamzah drags unseriously.

“just shhh,” you smile and reach for his arm behind him, slowly bringing his cold hand up to your soft cheek. “is that okay?”

hamzah sends a silent nod.

“okay,” you breathe and bring your face closer to his.

hamzah’s mind is so boggled. he can’t believe any of this; he’s completely struck by awe and tangled in your sweet cherry stem of affection. he thinks you’re a special kind of girl; one with an attitude both sexy and innocently loving. so infatuating that he’s realizing he can’t kiss you, not here, not when you’re high and thinking irresponsibly.

not when there’s a chance that you’ll wake up tomorrow and not remember it, or worse ask him to forget about it for your sake.

not when your friendship lies directly on that line.

“mm, yeah we really… shouldn’t…” he takes pauses between his words, it almost physically hurts him to see you that stunned by his words with your face still safe in his palm.

you’re completely flustered and blink your eyes a few times before retreating from his space, “oh… fuck, i’m so sorry that was-”

“it’s not like that- it’s more like, not right now. later?” he scrambles for a response as you’re trying to keep yourself from drowning in embarrassment.

“mhm sure yeah, i’ll be back.” you give a forced smile and leave him alone on the tile floor.

ROOMMATE!HAMZAH WHO . . . you wake up the morning after a house party and find in your bathroom tub with a sharpie mustache above his lip and a pink post it note that read: “GOODNIGHT SUGAR!!! BEST PARTY EVER - Martin :D” written in a barely legible scrawl

[personasintro]

come for me | jjk

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it's a first proper date he's supposed to plan, unfortunately it does not go according to his plan

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, neighbors au, enemies to lovers (?)

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, protected s*x, little spanking, rough and quick s*x

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k+

a/n: this is one of the secrets I've been keeping and god it's finally here!! i wasn't even planning on finishing this today but I did and I'm so happy to share it with you! hope you like it <3

↳ previous parts

Jungkook is convinced the entire world sucks.

What should be considered as the most exciting time for some men, Jungkook finds it as a literal torture. Planning a date shouldn't be so tough. He has never truly done it before – not when he truly meant it. Whenever he went out for what could be considered as a pathetic attempt at a date, its purpose was clear. To fuck and end it with a mind-blowing orgasm on both parts. 

He has never done it like… this. 

Fuck.

Just the thought of it makes him want to throw up. He definitely can't mention that to you – who's pretty much clueless about his thoughts and would kick him in the balls if you knew. 

“I don't know dude, you should bring her roses.” Taehyung proposes, watching his friend in a mild panic as he bounces Ruda in his arms. 

“She's not like other girls.”

“What do you mean? Every woman loves roses! You can't go wrong with that!” Taehyung protests, offended that Jungkook rejected his idea right away. 

“I wouldn't say every but yeah, it's the effort that counts. Plus, she knows you've never done this before.” Yoongi joins in that conversation, shrugging nonchalantly while Jungkook nibbles on his bottom lip. 

Fuck! This is not like him. 

It's already enough his friends share an amused look, one he definitely notices and finds really offending. They find this entire thing very amusing while Jungkook is having a midlife crisis. 

“Okay, maybe forget about the flowers. What does she like?”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowns.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “What things does she like to do? Does she like to eat? Likes to watch movies?”

Jungkook's a little taken back by those questions, a clueless expression clouding his face while Taehyung snorts in the background. He's too busy trying to think of a proper answer to glare at him in return. 

“I–I don't know,” he admits.

“You don't know?” Yoongi deadpans, “Come on dude, you gotta know something.”

“I don't know!” he exclaims in distress, causing Ruda to babble as if to remind him she's there. He shoots her an apologetic look, looking back at Yoongi. “We never really discussed that kind of stuff. We fucked. That's what she likes for sure.”

“Should you talk like that in front of the baby?” Taehyung points out, met with another glare that shuts him up. 

Ruda is too young to understand. He'll take care of his bad mouth by the time she understands, he naively thinks to himself.

“Then just fuck her.” 

Jungkook stares dumbfoundedly at his friend and his stupid idea. “Seriously? I'm supposed to take her on a date. Beats the whole purpose of it if I just fuck her instead.”

“Look at him, so much progress.” Taehyung mutters amusingly, causing Jungkook to grab one of Ruda's plushies and throw it aggressively at Taehyung's head. 

“Then just take her somewhere and fuck her after. If the date is awful, at least she gets her world rocked.”

They both start to laugh while Jungkook whines loudly, a groan following right after. “You guys are fucking with me. Literally, you're no help.”

“JK, we can't exactly help you when you have no idea what she likes. Maybe you should find out first and then think of something?”

“Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?” Jungkook mocks, doing a little stance with his arms while Ruda is in his hold. “Very smart, Yoongi. I don't want to make it seem as if I don't know what I'm doing.”

“What's so wrong about that?” Taehyung questions, “You just ask her what she prefers and it'll be easier to plan something.”

“Yeah, he's right.”

Jungkook sighs, pinching his brows. Ruda starts to fidget in his hold, causing him to sit down in a chair. He hands her one of her rattles as she starts to wildly shake it in her tiny hands. 

“Won't I look pathetic if I just asked her?”

“You literally look pathetic right now.”

“Taehyung, God help me–”

“Just ask her.” He cuts him off. 

Somehow, he made it sound easier than the thought of it is. 

The next time you see Jungkook is when you bring him the dinner you cooked. You haven't had that much time to see each other, with you working and his sleeping schedule all over the place, you had to settle with a message for the time being. It hasn't been that long, only like three days since he asked you on a date.

You're not going to lie, you feel a little giddy thinking of it. It's weird because you can't imagine the famous Jeon Jungkook on a date. If someone mentioned the words date and Jungkook in the same sentence, you would laugh them off. But now that it involves you, you find it almost flattering. He's taking you on a date. 

You. 

And no one else. 

You want to devilishly cackle at all those bitches that got to fuck him, wanted something more with him. Realizing that's kind of evil, you humble yourself because nothing's sure yet. 

Since this is very new to not only you but Jungkook as well, it's hard to have any say when it comes to the future. You're trying to prepare yourself for any outcomes but it's tough. Tougher than you think it would be. The idea of this failing makes you weirdly sad and you can't stand it.

However the sight in front of you completely brings you to other thoughts. You've never been someone who would thirst over dads. The whole DILF thing discussed between women was a pure fantasy, something they would romanize or even sexualize. Not that you were purely against it. Are women who find young dads hot that bad? 

The potential man would have to be hot in order to find them being a young dad hot. Some men just have that spark. And you've never really met one even remotely close to Jungkook.

And there he is. 

He opens his front door, hair slightly raffled and messy, as if he hasn't brushed it the entire day. He has one of his oversized gray shirts on, a map of spit or whatever that is decorating the thin material. He has a baby cloth draped over his shoulder, momentarily widening his eyes at the sight of you. 

Then realization hits him and he steals a glance at the watch around his wrist. He forgot you were supposed to drop in for dinner. 

Other than he looks fucking hot, even in his messy state, you also find him adorable how he stares at you with big doe eyes before he ushers you to come inside. 

“Where's my favorite baby?” you ask excitedly, keeping your tone down just in case she's sleeping. It's awfully quiet in Jungkook's apartment. 

“You make it sound as if you knew dozens of them.”

You give him a look, hearing him chuckling as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Rude.”

“She's sleeping,” he answers instead, but a cocky grin is attached to his moisturized lips. “She's been a little cranky this night,” He lets out a yawn. “Barely got any sleep.”

You pout at the thought of it. “You should've told me. We could switch or something.”

He stares at you dumbfounded as if you just came up with the craziest idea. Perhaps it is one. 

“You have a job, Y/N. I can't let you have a sleepless night.”

He has a point. Even if you were willing to spend a sleepless night helping him, you wouldn't really help much since you have to wake up early in the morning. You can't babysit during the day, unless it's the weekend. And babysitting during the night so Jungkook can sleep, even if for a few hours would cause you to look like a zombie the next morning.

You love your sleep. But you're willing to give it away for Ruda. And Jungkook. 

Jungkook ends that particular topic, leading you further down his apartment and to his kitchen where you place the containers. “It's tomato sauce pasta with chicken and basil. Not exactly a trophy winning menu but I tried to cook something quickly.”

“Fuck, I'm so hungry,” Jungkook whines, opening the container as he inhales the scent, a steam coming off it since you just finished cooking. “Thank you. It smells amazing.”

“No worries, I told you I wanna help in any way I can.” you assure him. 

He motions for you to sit down, already pulling out a glass for you where he pours you an apple juice. “Have you eaten?” he asks, already digging his fork into pasta.

“It's hot, be careful,” you warn him, even though the steam itself is enough of an indicator that it's indeed very hot. But Jungkook looks as if he's ready to swallow the entire thing with no thoughts. “And no. I came directly here but no worries, I will eat when I come home.”

“Nonsense,” Jungkook waves you off. You watch him stand up and before you can complain, he pulls out a plate for you and opens the other container you had prepared for him for tomorrow. “Here, let's eat together.”

“Jungkook–I have my food at home, I just came here to drop this–”

“Stay for a while.” he says simply, looking too irresistible and straight into your eyes for you to object. 

“Okay.”

You dig into the food, not realizing how hungry you've become once again. Your entire apartment smells like tomato sauce, garlic and basil. You hope by the time you come there, the opened windows did their job because you would hate to sleep in a smelly apartment. 

When you were cooking, you inhaled the smell a lot so naturally, you didn't feel as hungry anymore but now the hunger comes back. Without any argument, you both eat in silence while trying to talk about your days. 

You and Jungkook haven't really talked that much before. You both know what you spent most of the time doing. That's changing and it is a pleasant change.

It does feel slightly odd to be talking about casual stuff like your work. But once Jungkook takes over and talks you through their day. He's got a lot on his plate. He has a baby for fuck sake. He looks exhausted, yet his eyes are sparkling and he doesn't make it sound as if he's complaining. He informs you, even laughs at Ruda's cranky mood and what work she makes him go through. 

You're done and Jungkook takes it upon himself to clean the dishes and give you back your food containers, even though you told him it can wait. He protests and while he just as much protests with you cleaning the mess in his living room, you do it anyway.

There are toys and a few dirty and empty bottles laying around. There's not that much of a mess and it's done shortly after Jungkook finishes dishes.

You both decide to hang out for a while before you have to get home, take a shower and prepare yourself for the night. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you about something…”

Jungkook starts unsurely, arm outstretched behind your seat on his couch as you're cuddled to his side. You could fall asleep like this.

“It's about our date.”

You pull away slightly to look at his face, “Are you backing down from it?” you muse, watching the way his face turns into panic and that alone tells you that's far from the truth. It's enough to let you relax as you giggle.

“No!”

“Then what is it?” you ask, cuddling back but in a position where you still can see him. 

“What do you like to do?” he asks, a little awkward as he scratches the back of his head. “It sounds fucking stupid but I was wondering where to take you and I realized–we never talked about this stuff. And I–” Don't want to mess up. He doesn't finish.

Something warm collects in your chest and you try to hide a smile, not wanting him to feel as if you're finding him amusing or anything of that sort. Actually, you find him endearing. He's showing you a side of himself that you've never seen before.

“Whatever you plan, I'm sure I'll enjoy it.” You settle on saying, not having anything particular in mind which is not a help at all. 

“Come on!” Jungkook whines, “I'm trying here. I've never done this shit before.”

“Did you just call our date a shit?” you tease him, watching him open his mouth before he closes it and glares at you.

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“I know, I just love teasing you,” you muse, met with another glare which causes you to giggle silently. “I've never seen you like this. I'm quite enjoying it.”

“Yeah, make fun of me.” he scoffs a little.

Realizing this might not be just as fun and humorous as you make it seem to be, you also realize this must be important to him in a way. Your smile drops and you sit up, watching him slide his arm off the couch and into his lap. He stares there thoughtfully, avoiding your gaze.

“I'm sorry, I didn't think you would worry about it this much,” you tell him gently, “Depends on what time we would go on a date.”

“I called my mom and she can babysit until 9PM. She has to go back home after that.”

“Hm, okay. And what time are we meeting?”

“I thought maybe around… four?” he says, stealing a glance at you as your purse your lips in thought.

“How about we eat somewhere nice–nothing fancy!” you warn him, not really sure if he's the type to go all out since he has never done this before. 

But still, you want to make sure he doesn't spend a fortune on a single date. Plus, you would like to pay too. Not because he has a baby and other expenses, but because you're independent. You don't need a man to pay for everything.

Maybe eventually it would be nice to get spoiled a little. But at the moment, you can't imagine it. It wouldn't seem fair considering what a position he's in now. There's a little human here that needs more of everything than you do.

It's not something you've had to come to terms with, you've understood it from the beginning. Jungkook is a dad now. And it has a certain baggage with it. 

“And then we could do something–I don't know. Maybe we could think about it after? To see what we're in the mood for.”

“You sure you'll be okay with it?” he asks unsure.

He's met with a confusion as you pull back and say; “Why wouldn't I be? I just suggested it.” you giggle.

“Just askin'. I've never done this before.”

“So you said.” you tell him, standing up. “I would go and check Ruda but I don't want to wake her up. So kiss her for me, okay?” 

Jungkook looks like he's ready to protest, perhaps telling you to stay a little longer or even night, knowing it might be too soon for you. Once he checks the time, he remains quiet and the pout is the only thing visible on his face. 

You lean down, kissing him on his cheek. “Don't worry about the date too much, okay?”

He hums, though keeps his pessimism to himself. You wave at him for the last time and it's until he hears a soft click that he's once again alone with his daughter. The one that announces herself shortly after you leave. A loud sigh leaving his mouth as he stands up and goes to check on her. 

“What do you mean you can't come?” Jungkook shrieks, so out of his character that even his mother on the other line stays silent for a second.

“I'm sorry, Jungkookie. They canceled all train connections because of an accident.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing his mother scolding him but he pays her zero attention. “Can you grab a taxi or something? I'll pay for it.”

It's out of his budget but he's desperate. 

“No, it's too expensive plus I wouldn't be able to make it in time. You know how it is here. It's hard to find a taxi.”

He groans, rubbing his face frustratedly as he stares out of the window. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He had it all planned. Even though you talked about getting food, he thought a lot – embarrassed to say – he even googled a few spots that were recommended around here. He would let you choose and maybe you would be able to visit them all within five hours that you would have for yourselves. 

But now everything's out of the window. 

“I could come tomorrow?” She tries to help, but Jungkook shakes his head.

You can't tomorrow. There's some kind of family party you need to attend. 

“No, it's fine, mom. I'll call you later.”

“I really am sorry, Jungkookie.”

He starts to think of every single thing that he knows. Every person gets on his mind and he wonders if he should call them. In a moment of realization and reality hitting back to him, he realizes he can't just call anyone to watch over his daughter. He sits down in disappointment, realizing how selfish that would be of him. 

He can't call Yoongi or Taehyung. They would not be able to take care of her and he would spend the entire date worrying, probably leaving to check on her. That's completely out of the question. None of his other friends, that probably fuck around as we're speaking would be able to help him.

None of his family members are around. Plus, they still haven't met Ruda – most of them – for some reason he thinks it's too early. He's still in a stage of trying to figure out to be a father. 

It's only his luck that his mom calls him from the train station, having no other way to come here. Just because some dumb fuck decided to jump in front of the train. 

He stops.

Fuck, he really is selfish.

He takes it back immediately, having more compassion now than ever since he has a whole baby to raise and take care of. 

You're supposed to be here any minute. He had it all planned. 

His mom should've been here soon, he would briefly talk her through Ruda's routine. He trusts her. She raised him and could surely take care of a baby. Plus, Ruda's sleep is better these days and she's too little to make a fuss about her dad not being here. 

When a knock resounds on his door, his entire stomach churns and he prepares himself for the disappointment that he seems to be. It's even worse when he opens the front door and you stand there, fully prepared in a short dress. Your hair is neat and nicely done, so is your make-up. Not that you aren't pretty either way, but he can definitely tell the extra effort you've put into yourself. 

It truly makes him feel like the biggest asshole. 

You smile, telling him something but he can't hear. He just stares, both out of awe and then frustration when he realizes what he's about to tell you. 

“What's wrong?” Your smile drops, making a note of his weird expression of pure sadness. 

“We can't go on a date,” He forces the words out of his mouth.

It's weird how his heart drops when you suddenly grab the strap of your bag, looking as if you're shielding yourself from him. 

“It's–My mom just called and she can't get on the train.”

“Oh,” you let out. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, um–come inside.” he says, gently grabbing your wrist as he pulls you inside. He doesn't need any nosy neighbors witnessing this very uncomfortable and awkward situation. 

You stand in his entry way, looking around in awkwardness as he scratches his temple.

He's obviously styled and prepared to go out. You've noticed his nice outfit right away. He's wearing black slacks with a casual white t-shirt tucked inside it. His hair is trimmed and styled back. You can smell his aftershave and hair gel along with his cologne. 

Clearly, he hasn't stood you up and what he's saying is the truth.

It's not like you doubt him but well – all of this is new and maybe it wouldn't be so out of character if Jungkook panicked and decided to make a lie to save himself. 

“I'm so sorry–I really had everything prepared for tonight. And it's completely ruined. I fucked up.”

You frown, staring at him for a second. “You didn't fuck up, Jungkook.” you tell him softly. “It's not your fault.”

“I thought of calling one of my friends, but they're not able to take care of Ruda–I can't just let them–”

Probably they wouldn't even want to babysit, now that he thinks of it.

“Jungkook, it's totally okay. I understand.”

“I can't let just anyone watch over her.”

“I understand,” you emphasize softly, smiling at him. “How about we take her with us?”

Jungkook's head snaps in your direction, looking at you as if you're crazy. “You wanna take a baby with us? Nothing against Ruda but–we're not gonna be able to enjoy it. She will cry eventually and I had plans–I can't possibly imagine taking her there–it's too much work.”

He panics and you need to get a hold of his shoulders to stop him.

“We don't have to take her to the restaurant or wherever you want to go,” you inform him, “We could just take her for a stroll and see from there? If she's gonna cry and be cranky, we'll just come back.”

You're not a mother yourself, but somehow you can empathize with his situation. He hasn't taken her out for too long, not onto too many public places. Until you count grocery stories and nearby parks. He's by himself most of the time. While he finally got the hang of the feeding, bath and sleeping routine, the thought of suddenly taking her there makes him unsure. Even though he knows he'll have to do it eventually. 

“Plus, I will be there. It's gonna be the two of us.” 

Something about that specific line makes him pause as he watches you. You give him a look, wondering what's the stare for but he just smiles. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you assure him. “Nothing's ruined. Plus, I think I'll prefer Ruda's company there too.”

He looks at you suspiciously, almost like he doesn't believe you. And perhaps he doesn't. But you giggle. “I'm serious. There's gonna be time to enjoy ourselves alone.”

“I–” he stops, “Wow. Okay. I'll prepare her and we can go.”

“Great,” you smile, “I'll prepare her stroller. Do you have any formula prepared?”

“Yeah, had one prepared for mom. It should still be warm.” 

You both jump into action. Jungkook takes Ruda out of her cradle that he bought for her and has its place designed in his living room. She starts to wake up, her little face twisting as you coo at her while you walk past them. You prepare the bottle and stroller, watching Jungkook put her there as you bring some extra clothes for her just in case. 

You're out of his apartment in a record time, fully prepared as you shoo Jungkook and take the stroller. He walks beside you with a teasing smile, but there's a huge relief and content behind it. 

Jungkook's nerves are put at ease. 

Not only you but the situation proves to him that he can still go and eat out, even with a baby. Ruda has been like an angel. Once she's awake, she just stares around before she falls asleep shortly after. You feed her in a nearby park which slowly lullabies her to sleep.

After walking and getting to know each other's interests through stories, you find a nice restaurant where you can eat outside. It's not probably what Jungkook had planned but it has its own magic. 

Stroller kept next to you at all times, you fill up your stomach and even sleeping Ruda gets a few compliments along the way.

“Aw, what a cute baby! You have a very pretty baby.” The waitress tells you, beaming from a distance at sleeping Ruda, causing you both to smile.

None of you correct her. Why should you? She's a stranger and it doesn't matter what she thinks. You understand why she would think you're a family. It's a standard here. Nobody expects single dads out here. 

Well, not so single anymore. You hope.

“Thank you.” you smile at her in gratitude, eyes dropping to the sleeping angel that's next to you. Okay, maybe you appropriated Jungkook's daughter but he doesn't seem to mind. Actually, it seems like he's enjoying the sight in front of him.

“Your daughter is a star around here.” you tell Jungkook once the waitress is gone.

He chuckles, “Stealing my spotlight from birth.”

“Oh, she definitely helps you catch even more eyes.” you muse, watching him laugh in confusion. “Everyone's staring at you. All those women we walked past. They're thirsting over you.”

“Are you sure it's because of Ruda?”

You roll your eyes while grinning, “So cocky as usual.”

“What? I've always caught a female's gaze if that's what you were saying.”

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes again, “But there's something hot about a young hot dad. You're a DILF now.”

“Don't call me that.” he groans, causing you to laugh.

“Either way, it does bring you attention whether you like it or not.”

“Doesn't matter, I only like your attention,” he says. 

The two of you share a look as Jungkook cringes while laughing while you shriek in both excitement and disbelief. You probably look like a crazy couple. “That was smooth!”

He laughs, “I'm trying. I'm not romantic.”

“Are we having this conversation again?” You lift your brow. “Anyway, they can only look. You're on a date with me.”

It's a diplomatic way to say, aiming at something that hasn't been discussed yet. This is your first date after all. None of you have a certain plan. 

Yet, you're sure to admit that you don't like the attention Jungkook gets. 

“Does that make me your boyfriend?” he asks, tasting the way that words sound out of his mouth. 

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Hell yeah. If it means repelling all the men from you, I will be anything.”

You laugh, “You sound jealous.”

“Because I am,” he says, throwing a piece of sweet potato into his mouth. “I want you all to myself.”

“Hm, I'll think about it. Ruda has a place in my heart too.”

“I can share with her.” 

You both share a giggle together, something you've barely done before. 

“Does this make it official?” you question.

He shrugs, “If you want it to be. I know I do.”

“Me too,” you tell him giddily, sounding like an excited teenager. “I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Do people get together on a first date though?” he asks, finding you staring dumbfoundedly at him. “No, I'm serious. I really wanna know.”

You sit back, taking a sip of your drink. “Who cares? We kinda did it backwards anyway.”

“True,” Jungkook hums. “Who cares.”

Throughout those four hours of getting to know each other more, the connection between you grew some more. You've found out about Jungkook's secret hobby which is graphic art. It kind of explains the love for his tattoos as well. He's no longer just the boy that partied and fuck his way through his years. Actually, he's not that at all.

His guilty pleasure is eating snacks in the middle of the night, though he really tries to restrict himself from doing so. It's tougher to visit a gym these days, one of his obvious hobbies that you've already known. But he talked more about that and there wasn't a minute that it felt awkward or uncomfortable.

Ruda has been a pleasant company as well, her cuteness making both of you laugh and giggle. You were kind of bonding over her as well. Until it was starting to get darker and the two of you have decided to get back. 

On your way to the apartment complex, Ruda has pooped which proved your decision to go back to be right. Jungkook invites you to his place, not too keen on ending your date just yet and you agree. Though, you have to wake up early to pack your things and get ready for your cousin's birthday party, you don't want to leave them. 

You offer to take Ruda's nappy but Jungkook refuses, thinking it might be too much to ask of you but truly, you wouldn't mind. You try to tell him that but he just shakes his head, tells you to sit down and make yourself at home.

Shortly after, he comes back informing you that Ruda fell asleep. He joins you on the couch with what sounds like an exhausted sigh. The two of you share a look, both chuckling, silently of course because there's a baby sleeping in the other room. 

“Did you like it?” 

Jungkook fills up the momentary silence, voice slightly unsure and nervous.

He glances at you sideways, quickly looking away as he clears his throat.

“The date.”

“I did,” you giggle, nodding. “I really did. Thank you, it was very lovely.”

He allows himself to smile, mentally patting himself on his back for this going so smoothly. To be honest, he expected a disaster. It began like that, so he can't be blamed for expecting it to continue. But he's pleasantly surprised. 

Too happy about today. 

He feels like a freaking teenager and he gets this weird fluttering in his stomach. Urgh! He's not sure how he feels about it because it's new.

“Though you could've let me pay at least for the botanic park–or the museum.” you tell him, giving him a dirty but teasing look. 

You've really managed to visit many places Jungkook prepared for you. At first – which you're clueless about – he wasn't sure how to feel about it because he never went to a freaking museum. Maybe when he was on a school trip. It was totally involuntary, of course. But he caught himself enjoying it – and maybe it was because you were there – but he realized he doesn't mind enjoying himself, knowing it's because of you that he was able to. 

“No can do.” Jungkook shakes his head, teasing you some more which makes you groan. 

“I will pay next time.”

“Next time?” he teases, wiggling his brow.

“Aren't we dating now? It's what couples do, going on dates–”

“We are,” he hums. “What else do they do?”

You smirk, inching closer to him as you cuddle up to his side. He welcomes your touch, throwing his arm around you as he pulls you even closer while he doesn't take his eyes off you.

“They kiss,” you whisper, noses bumping into each other as you let your lips linger over his. Not quite kissing him but then it's too irresistible, he is, that in the end you press a soft kiss on his lips.

“They cuddle,” you continue, “Fuck.”

Jungkook chokes on his spit, “Don't say it like that.”

“Is Jeon Jungkook getting shy?” you tease, kissing his jaw. “You know a lot about fucking.”

“I–fuck–I do,” he agrees, voice sounding almost choked up. He tries to concentrate badly, he really does, but you're making it too hard when your kisses trail down his neck, making more parts of his body alive. “It just makes me–”

“What? Horny?” you tease and he groans.

“Well obviously,” he rolls his eyes, hands on your hips as you sit up and straddle his lap. “Wait–”

“Why?” you pause, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

“No, wait, wait, wait–” He quickly says as if he could read your thoughts. He can surely see the starting embarrassment and the way you pull away, putting distance between you. “I really want nothing else than fuck you.”

“But?”

Jungkook presses his lips together, “I wanna take it slow. Won't it ruin if we just fuck right now?”

You give him a look, slightly caught off guard. “Why would we? We've done it before multiple times.”

“Yeah, we did but… but it was different, you know?” he says and weirdly, you do know what he means. However– “I just don't want to fuck this up.”

Your eyes soften, taking Jungkook's face into your hands as you press a soft kiss to his lips. “You won't fuck this up, Jungkook.”

“You don't know that.” He frowns.

“Well, yeah. I meant it in a more encouraging way. You're trying and I can see that. I do appreciate it.” you confess to him, silently and softly as if saying it out loud will make it embarrassing. You're a little sheepish when it comes to confessing such things. Talking deeply and emotionally with him. “I personally don't think us having sex tonight will ruin anything. But if that's what you're worried about, we don't have to. What I wanna say with this is–I respect it.”

He watches you, eyes clouded with restraint and desire. Currently having an inner battle with himself, he sighs and leans his head back.

“Plus, I think it's cute.”

“Cute?” he deadpans, moving his head down to look at you. 

“You're cute,” you admit, giggling at the look of disgust on his face. “This really means something to you.”

“Does it not to you?”

You laugh, “Of course it does.”

He smiles, pulling you closer as he's the one who kisses you now. “Fuck, you're really making this hard.”

“Not just this.” you point out, wiggling your brows at him when you shift in his lap, feeling his hardening length under you.

“Stop!” he shrieks silently in horrification.

You giggle, “We could watch a movie instead. Or talk.”

He rubs his lips together, eyes dropping low. For a moment, the two of you only stare at each other. There's desire, lust and impatience clouding the air around you, just as much as it fills your gazes. Jungkook's eyes are the first ones to drop down your lips. Staring at them painted in a nice shade that compliments your skin tone. They're moisturized and never looked so tempting. He's not sure. He can't think straight right now. 

“Fuck movie.” he pants, grabbing you by your sides and pulling you onto him. 

The kiss is no longer soft and minimal, you both practically throw at each other letting your bodies act upon their biggest temptation. The making out is messy and fast, no longer staying at that as Jungkook lays you down and starts kissing you down your neck. 

“Fuck, that feels good.” you gasp, moaning when Jungkook lowers down your dress and starts sucking the skin on top of your breasts. 

You arch into his touch and warmth, craving for every inch of him. It leads you to become even more impatient, ushering him to take off his shirt. He does and you immediately salivate at his pecs and muscles, hands trailing down his back and abs.

“Fuck, almost forgot how hot you are.” you confess. Okay, that might be a lie. It's hard not to notice how Jungkook glows with hotness, even if there are traces of exhaustion every day. 

“Oh, you forgot?” Jungkook teases, “Should remind you.”

“Mhm, you should.”

And boy, he does. 

In a split second, the dress is ripped off you and thrown somewhere on the floor, underwear followed right after. You complain about Jungkook's upper body still dressed, though there's something incredibly sexy about him wearing slacks with chest on full display. It's almost too shameful that he turns you around, getting you on all four. 

Both of you go completely feral. The position making your ass arch as Jungkook delivers a slap to it. He stops for a second though, freezes and waits for any sound coming from his bedroom. You watch him relax as he continues, a little smile playing on your lips. 

You hear him unzipping his slacks, not wanting to get the sight stolen from you so you turn around and stare at the scene in front of you across your shoulder. He smirks, noticing you watching as he reaches toward his coffee table.

Once he pulls out a foil packet, you give him a look with raised brow. “How did it get there?”

“My wallet dropped the other day and someone rang the door, I panicked and put it there.”

You laugh at his story, wondering if he's telling the truth. He looks like it though and quite frankly, you don't care. 

“Turned out to be convenient.”

“It did, thanks to whoever rang that day.”

He smiles, not elaborating any further as he takes off his remaining clothes. You hear the familiar sound of foil ripping and before you know it, Jungkook's tip pokes you at your asscheek. 

You might be already impatient enough, both of you too hungry for one another, but you also know there is no time to fool around when you now have the chance to have sex. Any second Ruda could wake up and put an end to your and Jungkook's desire. Seems like he knows it too because he gives you an apologetic look.

“It's okay, just fuck me.” you assure him with a moan, arching your back for him. 

He spits on his fingers, stretching you out with them and you sigh in content at the feeling. Giving you a few pumps to make you at least somehow prepared for him, you whine his name in ushering him and silently telling him you'll be fine.

That's all it takes for him to enter you, both of you swallowing down any set of curses and sounds. Jungkook pulls back just for him to thrust into you. He finds a perfect rhythm, rocking your bodies fast and roughly.

Jungkook growls, “Holy shit.”

He slaps your ass, trying to keep it down as you both giggle in the middle of it. It's soon cut off by his thrusts you try to meet. Giggles get switched by silent moans and pleas. Everything is heated and rushed, both of you ultimately aiming to orgasm knowing it could get interrupted any minute. Keeping that in mind, you don't hold yourself back and neither does Jungkook.

Despite your situation, he does not refrain himself a few slaps to your ass which only brings you closer to the end. 

“Jungkook–”

“Fucking hell, I wish I could hear you moaning and screaming.”

You wish you had more time, though you don't regret it happening now. You wouldn't have it any other way. Thinking that you both would have to wait for each other sounds like a proper torture. 

“You're fucking creaming my cock–fuck.” he groans silently, seeming to have as much as struggle to keep it down. 

Still, it's kind of hot to experience it. You never had to keep it down. Sure, there were many times when you specifically had sex and tried to be silent because of neighbors. With Jungkook, you never cared about neighbors before. Not that much at least.

“Fuck–I'm almost–there.”

“Come for me.” Jungkook grunts, hands gripping your ass so much that you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow.

And you do. Not even five seconds later, you bury your face into his couch and let moans disappear into its material. Jungkook follows right after you, not being able to hold it for much longer as he comes inside the condom. 

He stays inside for a moment, softening slowly as he carefully helps you to turn around. He sits back on his knees, condom soiled by your cum and juices but none of you move. 

You stare at each other, smiles coming up at the same time as you silently giggle. 

This is the best date ever.

[charliemwrites]

Bark bark bark awoooo

No content warnings

You’re gonna fucking combust.

Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.

“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”

His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.

You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.

It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.

Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.

Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.

Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.

It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.

Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.

Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)

He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.

You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.

You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.

But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.

And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.

Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”

Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.

Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.

Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.

“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”

You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.

“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.

Snort.

“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”

A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.

“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”

Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.

—

“Fuck it.”

Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.

“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.

You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.

“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”

For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.

He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.

“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.

A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.

You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.

“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.

Lastly, the shoes.

“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.

You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.

“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”

Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.

“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”

To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.

“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”

You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.

“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”

More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.

You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.

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Masterlist

[mins-fins]

119

&&. unfortunately you aren't as slick as you thought you were.

pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader

genre: fluffity fluff fluff fluff

warnings: sexual jokes, thats it 😚

word count: 1.2k

notes: jj spread the jeno bias disease i literally cant believe this 😭😭 hes so……….im abt to draft another long jeno fic + an smau + another stupid drabble and all of that fun stuff!! dont get it twisted jisung is still my ult though 😒 no ones ever replacing him, anyway this came from a prompt someone sent me, smth about "kissing someone on a ferris wheel" which i just LOVEEEED hello??? okay ik none of you care abt my words, love jeno, love nct dream, pray i get park jisung pcs 😇 good night now <33

you are going to murder na jaemin.

the moment you get off this ferris wheel your throwing up your guts all over his shirt, or punching him in his face, or strangling him to death, whatever. the moment you step off this ride you're making sure he doesn't open his eyes to see the rest of his fellow human beings ever again.

maybe if you were less awkward you'd actually be thanking him, but you take one side glance at the boy beside you and want to smash your head against the glass.

jeno doesn't notice your side glance (and thank goodness he doesn't because you probably would've died if he took so much as a glance at you), he's much too busy glancing at the view from the height your at. you assume that jeno likes ferris wheels, he probably likes them more than you do.

"are you alright?"

you mentally prepare yourself for the voice crack you know might escape your lips. just talk to him like a normal human being, y/n, yeah you're into him and shit but that doesn't mean you can be a weirdo.

"yeah" you finally respond, thank goodness the voice cracks don't come out. "just feeling a little nauseous".

jeno raises an eyebrow. "scared of heights?"

you only manage a curt nod, a nod that makes jeno scoot closer to you, his lips stretching into a smile. "it's alright, i'll protect you".

fuck you lee jeno, fuck you, fuck you, fuck yo—

your somehow able to chuckle, amused by his words. "it's not like i'm dying or anything".

jeno frowns. "so you don't want my protection?"

you pretend to think about it, pressing your lips together as your eyebrows furrow, avoiding eye contact with jeno at all costs. if you look at him, your going to fall and never get up. "i wouldn't be entirely against it".

jeno's shoulder nudges yours, nothing but a small touch that drives you crazy. you wonder if the mini breakdown your having is noticeable, if maybe, he's doing it on purpose, making your heart race to get a kick out of it.

but when you think about it further, it makes you giggle, because this is lee jeno, you could get down on one knee and propose to him yet he'd still be confused by how you feel for him.

if lee jeno knew how you felt for him really, you probably wouldn't have resisted the urge to make out with him on this fucking ride or already.

that was a strange thought, a stupid one even, but it's one manifested from your deepest desires.

when you think about it, though, you wouldn't exactly mind it.

"that's good" jeno snickers at you, eyes examining your face as if it's an interesting exhibit at an art museum. "you need me".

you feign a sigh of irritation. "of course, what would i do without you?"

"you'd die, clearly" jeno replies, tilting his head and reaching over to lace your fingers with his. the cold rings on his fingers feel like glass shards against your fingers, but his soft hands contrast his stabbing rings. "isn't this sort of romantic?"

you choke on your spit.

"romantic? roma— hah! what are you talking about? what is romantic about this?"

soooo natural, y/n.

jeno simply shrugs, suddenly very interested in the view of the carnival from the ferris wheel. "were on a ferris wheel together, stars before us, just the two of us, this would be like.. the perfect date".

you blink, the words making you pause and your head spin. is he serious? is he really serious?

"is this your way of asking me out?"

you manage to ask that without sounding like a pathetic idiot who wanted to hear those exact words, and your response gets the same reaction out of jeno, flushed cheeks with an awkward chuckle accompanying the sight. you would've thought you were a genius if you weren't as flustered as he was.

jeno is speechless, and he fumbles through his speech like someone's holding him at gunpoint or something. "i— no! no! ..maybe? kinda?"

you pause, all your former confidence suddenly withering away, the blood rushing to your cheeks in full force. you laugh, taking his words as a joke, but jeno keeps silent, and so do you.

"are you serious?"

jeno can't speak, so he just nods wordlessly.

you blink, glancing from side to side, this ferris wheel won't be on the ground soon, but at least this makes it a little more bearable. "did you just confess your feelings for me like that?"

"well to be fair—"

"i was supposed to do it first!" you yell in another fit of feigned irritation, your cheeks a color reminiscent of jeno's cherry red shirt. "that's not fair! you beat me to it!"

"well how was i supposed to know you liked me back?"

you scoff, and jeno goes silent again, embarrassed by the question he just asked.

"you're such an idiot lee jeno.."

"can i kiss you?"

the question is a blurt of pure desperation, pure honesty from the deepest corners of jeno's mind, an inquiry he's been dying to ask you ever since he found himself interested in staring at your lips.

you hope you don't faint from the scorching heat radiating off your face.

"it's romantic" he laughs, his best excuse for that random inquiry. "i've always wanted to kiss someone in a ferris wheel, unless you don't want to then—"

you (in the most cliche turn of events) cut jeno off with a kiss. though you'd love to keep your fingers intertwined, you let go of his hand to find purchase on his shoulder, then tug him closer to you with a light jerk. a small squeak emits from him, but he quickly relaxes into the kiss, giggling at your enthusiasm.

though he giggles, he isn't much better off. it's nothing but a small press of the lips, it's not intense or anything, but jeno feels his heart soar. hie face heats to overwhelming heights, and he loops his arm around your waist, pressing you against him, as if the idea of not feeling every part of you would be maddening.

you both are just as desperate as each other, there's no push, just pull. it's a playful competition, your waiting for the other to pull away, stop the kiss because they need breath, it's stubborn in an idiotic way.

but jeno loses your little battle, because he pulls away for air, as red as the sunset in the early morning.

and though you laugh at the sight, you aren't much better off yourself (if the heat continuing to permeate from your face is enough).

"was that romantic enough for you?"

even with how breathless he is, jeno still manages a stupid question.

he squeals when you land a slap on his shoulder.

and while you thought you two were slick about it, considering you were like five feet in the air with nobody to see you, your equally red faces and intertwined hands were enough to get feigned vomits from your friends.

jaemin snickers as he looks between you two, and you glare as you see him open his mouth.

"so what happened up there?"

"clearly they got it on".

upon hearing the words, you let go of jeno's hand to yell and chase after lee donghyuck, who squeals and sprints away, shouting for renjun to help him.

jaemin just sends jeno a knowing look, a look that the older pretends he isn't bothered by.

for once, one of his ploys finally worked.

[jobean12-blog]

Where You Belong

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (pre or no!outbreak Joel-Friends to Lovers)

Word Count: 2,743

Summary: You and Joel have been friends for a long time and the tension has been building. It's hard to ignore and when he comes to your rescue it's all the push you need.

Author's Note: Just a little something because I love protective boys and love friends to lovers and Joel. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️ Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: sweet and fun fluff, some light tension, slightly sketchy boss no one likes, soft and protective Joel, kisses, friends to lovers

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“Do you want me to come with you?”

You turn to Joel who’s splayed out on your couch, his arm tucked under his head and his tee shirt riding up just high enough that you can see a sliver of skin.

After staring for a beat too long you shake your head no and he sticks his bottom lip out while making a disgruntled sound.

“I mean you can, I want you to,” you back track, “but it’s a work thing and you’ll probably be bored.”

“Is your new boss goin’ to be there?” he asks with a raised brow.

“Yeah. Unfortunately, he’s the one who organized it. Claims he wants us to get to know him better.”

You roll your eyes before turning away and searching for the mugs in the cabinet above the stove. Spotting the ones you want you reach up, straining and standing on your tippy toes.

“I don’t like that guy,” Joel grumbles.

“You met him once…for like a minute,” you counter.

“That was enough for me to know,” he says.

“Ugh!” you mutter when you still can’t grasp the mugs.

Suddenly, you feel his warm body press against your back as his arm rises above your head and easily grabs one mug then the other.

“These?” he asks with a boyish smirk.

“Yeah,” you sigh and take them from his hands. “Thanks. What would I do without you?”

You turn and face him, still trapped against the stove when he smiles and says, “I have no idea.”

Pressing a palm to his chest you shove him away and head for the coffee maker. You don’t even ask if he wants a cup, knowing already that he definitely does and just how he likes it.

An hour later when the coffee’s all gone and you’re too comfortable to want to leave you check your phone anyway and sigh.

“Guess it’s time to go,” you say but instead stretch out along the couch and stuff your feet under Joel’s arm.

“You look ready to go,” he chuckles.

Your eyes close but you can’t hide your smile and when he starts tickling your feet you instantly come alive and start kicking at him.

“FINE! I’m going. If you wanted to get rid of me that badly you could have just said so,” you tease.

“I’m at your house babe,” he replies and does nothing to hide his grin.

“Oh. Yeah. Well…” and your words trail off as you stomp into your bedroom to change.

When you emerge from your room, dressed and ready, you’re looking through your bag for your phone and you don’t notice Joel resting along the wall.

“Wow,” he says, louder than intended.

You startle and look up.

“What?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly.

He clears his throat and waves his hand dismissively before grabbing his keys.

“Maybe I should come with you,” he says, more to himself than you as he tries to keep his eyes glued to your face and not traveling down the rest of your body.

“You’ll hate every minute of it” you tease.

Before you reach your door he’s there and holding it open for you and when you walk toward your car he follows, opening the driver’s side door when you click the lock.

“Ok, well, have fun,” he says.

“Thanks. I’ll try.”

“Call if you need me.”

“I will,” you say quietly.

He presses his fingers under your chin and tilts your head up until you’re looking directly into his eyes.

“Promise?” he whispers.

“I promise,” you tell him.

His gaze softens and wanders over your face, then he presses a delicate kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You plop down into the seat of the car and wait for him to shut the door. He backs away and watches you pull out of the driveway before heading to his pick-up truck.

“So where is everyone else?” you ask as you sit at the bar and sip your drink.

“Not here yet I guess,” your boss shrugs.

You shift and let your eyes sweep the bar space, silently willing someone else from work to walk in. Your new boss was hired about six months ago. He’s not much older than you and at first seemed nice enough but the more time you’ve spent in his presence the more you notice his lingering glances and unwanted touches.

Thankfully, it’s never gone far enough where you’ve had a problem but you’ve spoken to Joel about it and of course he wants to kick his ass.

Your boss, Scott, leans in closer. Too close and you try to remain unbothered, pulling back only slightly and holding your smile.

“So, tell me more about yourself. I know you’ve been at the company for over a year but since I’ve only been here half that time I’d like to get to know you better,” he croons.

“Umm,” you start as an uncomfortable feeling creeps along the back of your neck. “Well, I uh…love this place. The food is great. You made a good pick.”

He smiles triumphantly at your praise. “Great! Let’s get some dinner then!”

Before you can protest he signals the bartender.

“What’s your suggestion,” Scott asks.

The bartender’s eyes slide to you, a question hanging silently in his gaze, and you smile before saying, “the burgers are really good.”  

“Sounds great,” Scott smiles. “Make it two burgers.”

The bartender nods and walks back toward the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t we wait for the others to show up?” you ask.

“They can order something if they come.”  

“If…?” you question, but your next thought is interrupted when he lays a hand on your knee.

Your urge to pull away overrides everything else and you swivel on the stool, placing your drink down on the bar and standing.

“I’m just going to use the restroom before the food comes,” you explain, keeping a strained smile plastered to your face.

Scott smiles back and as you walk away from the bar you can feel his eyes on you the whole time.

When you reach the bathroom you rush inside the door and lock it, quickly grabbing your phone.

“Hey babe,” Joel answers after the first ring, “missed me that much already?”

“Can you come get me?” you ask in a hushed whisper.

“Are you ok?” he asks, his voice suddenly hard and alert.

“I’m fine…I just need you to come and get me…pretend I need to come home or something. I don’t know. Just make it work.”

“Are you sure you’re ok?” he asks again and you can hear his keys jangling.

“Yeah, just hurry. My boss is the only one here and he’s being sketchy.”

“Where are you now?”

“In the bathroom.”

“Just stay there. I’ already in the truck.”

“I can’t Joel. I have to go back out. I can’t make this look too weird.”

“I knew I didn’t like this guy. He’s an asshole. I should knock him out flat when I get there.”

“Joel,” you plead.

“Ok sweetheart,” he relents with a softened tone. “I’m already on my way.”

“Ok. I’ll be at the bar.”

You hang up and wash your hands then take a deep breath.

As you walk back to the bar you see Scott searching for you, his smile widening when he spots you approaching.

“There you are,” he says as you sit. “I ordered you another drink.”

“Oh,” you answer, looking at your first drink that’s still half full. “Thanks.”

You make small talk, trying to keep the conversation neutral and focused on easy topics like movies and music. He orders his third drink before the food arrives and you can tell he’s starting to get a little drunk.

The bartender shows up with your food orders and when you don’t take a bite your boss frowns.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

You get the impression he’s waiting for you to take a bite before he does so you pop a fry into your mouth.

“These are really good,” you mumble through the mouthful.

He looks pleased and takes a bite of his burger.

“So is the burger,” he says after swallowing. “Good idea.”

Your eyes slide to the door of the bar when you hear it open but it’s not Joel and your shoulders deflate.

“Everything ok?” Scott asks.

“Oh yeah, yeah,” you answer quickly and drag your eyes from the door.

As you’re slowly sipping your water you see Scott’s fork pause halfway to his mouth. His eyes are trained on something over your shoulder, by the door, and you know Joel has arrived.

You place your drink down and turn. He’s standing just a few feet away, covetous dark eyes focused on you. A familiar awareness races along your skin, heating it but at the same time making you shiver with anticipation.

He starts to move toward you with purposeful steps, his jaw set in determination and his fists clenched at his sides.

Without removing his gaze from you he slowly slides his hand across your shoulders and down your arm, taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips. He kisses your palm and then hauls you off the stool into his arms.

You visibly relax and your eyes go bright with relief as he looks you over.

“Hey,” he says softly. “I’m here.”

You press yourself against his chest and grab a fistful of his shirt.

“Hey yourself.”

Scott clears his throat and it snaps you out of your cocoon of comfort. Reluctantly you put some space between you and Joel and open your mouth to introduce him.

He beats you to it.

“Joel,” he says, holding out his hand. “Her boyfriend.”

Scott looks surprised at first and then skeptical as he reaches his hand out. You can tell Joel shakes it with a death grip and you try to suppress a giggle.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Scott says.

“Well, she definitely is” Joel answers with a hard grind of his jaw.

“That’s too bad for me,” Scott says.

Joel’s arm tightens around your waist and you can hear his growl of disapproval. Scott seems oblivious to his inappropriateness and you want to punch him yourself.

Instead, you ask Joel, “so what’s going on? Is everything ok at home?” You signal as you best you can with your eyes that he better come up with a good excuse as to why he showed up at the bar.

“Right,” Joel says. “I don’t mean to disturb your work get together,” and he says that with a wry smile and a sarcastic tone, “but I need you to come home.”

“We haven’t finished eating,” Scott chimes in.

“We’ll get it wrapped,” Joel replies cooly.

You give his side a little squeeze, hoping to prompt him to elaborate.

“The dog threw up all over the floor. Think she ate something funny. I figured you would want to come home and check on her.”

He says it all in a rush of words, looking worried.

“The dog!” you exclaim. “Oh poor thing.”

Your boss looks between the two of you. “I didn’t know you had a dog either,” he says.

“Well, you mentioned you wanted to get to know me better,” you say, hoping you sound sweet enough.

“So this is my boyfriend Joel and we live together with our dog…Macaroni.”

You can feel Joel’s body shake with his restrained laughter.

“That’s an interesting name…” Scott muses.

“She’s a light beige color and wiggles a lot,” Joel adds. “It fits.”

You laugh and it’s not forced, the whole made up story sounding more and more like a life you could easily and happily live.

When you spot the bartender you ask for a to go container and pack up your barely eaten food. Joel takes out his wallet and drops some cash on the bar.

“I’m sorry I have to run off like this,” you say, feigning disappointment.

“It’s ok,” Scott answers. “It was nice to hang out. Even for a little while. See you Monday.”

Joel nods his goodbye without another word and slides his large hand to the small of your back, directing you toward the door.

“I want turn around and wipe that smile off his face with my fist,” Joel whispers as he leans down close to your ear.

You giggle and walk through the door he holds open for you, taking a deep inhale of the damp night air.

“That was some story you threw together,” you say with a laugh.

“Yeah, well, it worked right?! Now let’s get home and check on Macaroni.”

He takes your hand and tugs you toward his pick-up truck.

“But my car,” you say as you pass it by.

“I’m taking you home,” he answers.

“But…”

You reach his truck and he spins you around, pinning you against the door.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Please.”

You blink at him. “Ok.”

“Are you sure nothin’ happened?” he asks for the millionth time.

“I am. He just makes me uncomfortable and I didn’t want to be there anymore.”

“And you called me,” he says, stepping closer and crowding you against his truck.

At the feel of his body pressed along yours you suck in a breath of air.

“You told me to call…” you start in a whisper. “And you’re the only one I want to call anyway.”  

The wind picks up, whipping around and mussing his hair, the dark curls falling over his forehead. You lift your hand to brush them away and the first raindrop falls, cold and heavy.

“Shit,” Joel mutters when he feels several more drops hit his shoulders.

The sky opens up and the air is filled with the sound of the raindrops pelting the truck. The two of you are quickly getting soaked and his shirt starts to stick to his skin, highlighting every dip and curve of muscle. His dark lashes are thick and damp and his hair hangs loosely around his face, with just a curl at the ends.

His gaze sweeps down your body as your dress does the same, clinging to your wet skin and revealing the lace of your bra.

When his eyes are on yours again they’re filled with unbridled heat and you react by pressing yourself closer and tracing the broad width of his shoulders, your arms circling around his neck and your fingers delving into his hair.

Your lips hover just an inch apart and a low moan slips out of you, the sound making him release a sharp breath.

“Joel,” you whisper, barely audible over the rain.

He presses his palm to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin and wiping away a drop of rain before he cradles your face and drags your lips to his.

Despite the coolness of the rain his touch is warm, the feeling spreading along your skin as you become soft and pliable in his arms.

You cling to him, matching his heaving breathing when he pulls away. He runs his calloused thumb across your bottom lip, groaning when your breath hitches and your eyes flutter closed.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his expression almost pained.

You lick your lips, a clear invite for more, and he almost loses his last thread of sanity.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as his gaze dips to your mouth again, studying your lips like he wants to devour them.

The rain has completely soaked through your clothes but you could care less and when his lips find yours again you can feel the growl that moves through his throat. It sends you over the edge and you slide your hands down his chest, grasping at the wet material until you can slip your fingers under and feel his skin, keeping him impossibly close.

When you pull back, only to catch your breath, you follow the trail of a drop of rain as it runs down his temple and across his cheek, collecting on his upper lip. You gently suck it off, moaning when his hands grip your ass and he rocks his hips.

His hand smooths along the curve of your spine and his lips fall to your neck with a soft kiss.

He gathers you against him, running his nose along your throat until his warm breath fans your lips and his eyes are focused on yours.

“You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he whispers. “Let me take you home. Let me make you mine.”

@lizette50 @hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @kmc1989

[carolmunson]

almost fell into that hole in your life.

orange colored sky set list.

older!modern!eddie x thirties!reader summary: ficlet. you haven't been acting like yourself these days and eddie notices. unfortunately for you, eddie can't help but wanna make you feel better. tw: implied depressed reader, alcohol mention. implied praise kink if you squint really hard? still 18+ tho! songspiration: black balloon | the goo goo dolls

Eddie doesn't like it when things are too quiet, it makes him hear the static in his brain -- gets too aware. He can hear his eyes blink, the sound of his breath, so when you've been clammed up on the couch all night on your phone he can't help but start to make noise.

"Babe," he says from the kitchen, "Do you want me to make quesadillas or something? I have some shredded chicken I wanted to use up."

"Hm," you respond. He barely hears it, padding his way over in his 'house slides' that you like to tease him about. Such an old man.

"I was thinking quesadillas and I can make some margs, would you like that?" he asks, standing at the end of the couch. The way you're laying on your side, eyes glazed over, is enough to let him know that you haven't heard a word he's said for the last hour. Just scrolling with with a glassy look, numbing yourself ten times over.

"Peach," he says, albiet little sharply, "Are you listening to me?"

"Hmm, no way, that's wild," you respond, a zombie in his midst -- replying just to reply, to fake like you're hearing him. Eddie bites his tongue and then his cheeks to sting the frustration out.

"Hey," he says again, ringed hand reaching down to squeeze your chenille blanket covered thigh, "You hearin' me?"

You finally look up and see his face and the world around you comes into view. In your trance, the world outside had become night, the TV was off, you weren't even sure how much time had passed since you plopped yourself under Eddie's blanket on the sectional in his livingroom.

"Yeah," you squeak out, heart racing because you can tell he's disappointed, "Y-yeah I'm hearing you."

"Then what did I just say, huh?" he doesn't sound mad, or accusatory. Worse, he sounds disheartened. And even worse of worse, he sounds worried.

"Um...it was about um, you were asking about food," you try to answer confidently, and you know it was food adjacent, but you aren't sure.

"Do you want me to make quesadillas?" he asks again, "I have some chicken I wanna use up and I got all the stuff for 'em."

"Yeah," you nod, "Yeah that sounds nice."

"You wanna come help me?" he asks, "I can make us some drinks while we work."

"Uh," you start, that familiar pull tugging in your chest -- laying down feels good, getting lost back in your phone will feel better. It's so comfortable to hide under his chenille blanket and tune out. It feels better like that.

"Please?" You hesitate again, but you're not fast enough to redirect Eddie's attention, and it's then that he catches it in your eyes. The ache. He comes around the the front of the couch to sit in the divot of your thighs and chest, hand moving from your thigh to your shoulder. "What's goin' on?" his low voice twangs at your chest.

"Nothing," you urge, but your voice is too high and so are your eye brows. He doesn't believe you for a second.

"I don't like when you lie to me, peach," he confesses, "Don't lie to me, please."

"Psh, okay dad," you tease, trying to lighten the mood while you get up.

"I'm not kidding with you," Eddie's timbre keeps you in place, "I'm not playing around, babe. What's goin' on with you? You've been -- y'know -- you've been really I dunno -- inward this week. I'm missin' you."

"I'm okay," you urge again, but now you're too quiet. You don't mean it. He raises his brows and blinks at you in disbelief.

"I promise, I'm okay," you continue, "I'll be okay. It's fine. I'm fine."

"You're not making a great case for yourself." "Well then it's a good thing I'm not a lawyer," you joke again. He doesn't buy it.

"You're sad, baby," he tells you, reaching up to hold your cheek in his palm, "Why can't you just tell me? It's okay that you're sad."

"I'm not!" you try to say cheerily again, but the words get stuck in yout throat -- eyes stinging with wetness after hours of being open.

"I'm not sad," you say breathlessly, choking on the lie while a tear sneaks its way onto your lash line.

"Oh, sugar," he coos while you try to tread the water of your feelings -- flailing to keep your head above the pain in your chest.

"No, no, I'm okay -- I'm fine!" but you're starting to cry now and it kills him. Before you know it, he's made his way under the chenille blanket with you, nose to nose.

"Hey, hey, it's okay if you're not fine," he coaches you through your deep breaths while you try to guide yourself out of a full blown sob, "You can tell me. I'm here. I'm here, okay?"

"I'm sorry," your voice becoming a wraith of itself.

"Don't be sorry," he presses himself against you, enough so that you can feel the pressure of him and the pressure of the back of the couch on both sides, "Just talk to me."

"I don't..." you shrug, "I don't have anything to say."

"Just sad?" he asks, you feel an arm snake around you between your back and the the couch, pressing your chest to his. You nod, it feels pathetic, but you're cornered now and there's no use in arguing with someone who was born to win every argument he's ever had.

"Yeah," you mumble weakly, "Yeah, I'm sad. Think I'm more than sad."

He nods, his demeanor softening to something gentle -- heart reaching out to yours with caution like you'll run away, "Yeah, honey I can tell. You really haven't been actin' like yourself these days."

"I just don't wanna bother you," you confess, the brick coming off your chest, "I always get over it, I don't wanna like -- bum you out if it's not like...if it's not a big deal."

"I don't care if it's a big deal or a little deal," his heart bleeds for you while he speaks, "I don't care if you're gonna be over it in fiteen minutes. When you're hurtin' like this -- babe you gotta tell me. You gotta talk to me. Or else how're we gonna make this work?"

"It's just not important."

Eddie can tell that you mean it when you say it; he's never felt more frustrated with whoever convinced you that this was true.

"It's super important to me," he encourages, "Your shit is like, top of my list babe."

"Top of your list?" you crack a weak smile.

"You think the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of when I go to sleep isn't on the top of my priority list?"

"Okay, well now you're doing to much, Ed," your face scrunches in the way that he loves, not letting you totally get out of his hold yet while you try to squirm away.

"Hey, look at me, before you get up," he cups your cheek again, gently, your eyes meeting his brown ones. Eddie leans in for a kiss, a soft reminder that he's not going anywhere anytime soon -- not that you'd want him to. Not with lips like that.

When you break away, his nose nuzzles yours, coasting up to press another gentle kiss on the center of your forehead. Long and intentional, warm enough to get you to close your eyes.

"It's gonna be okay," he assures, "It's okay if you're not, but -- I gotcha until you're feelin' better, hm?"

You nod, sniffling snottily and wiping your wet cheek.

"I am ordering us quesadillas," he whispers, stealing another kiss from you, "Because if you're going to rot on my couch, I'm gonna make you rot next to me."

"We're rotting!" you cheer half heartedly, pouting when he gets up to get his phone for take out. When he finishes, he holds his hand out and you sheepishly put your hand in his.

Eddie curls bounce when he shakes his head, "Peach, you know what I'm asking for."

"No," you frown, "I need it to rot."

"Peach...please?" it's more of a warning than a question, and you slide your phone into his hand. He doesn't check it, but he knows that if you don't have it 'locked away' in his sweats pocket for a while you'll just end up zoning out the same way you did before.

"Thanks, sugar," he smirks, "You're so good."

Your cheeks burn at the priase, rolling your eyes with a grin that cracks against your features, "Don't. We're not doing anything sexy."

"Yeah I know," he shrugs innocently, finding his way next to you again, "But when you smile like that, who am I to deny you a lil' somethin'?"

He dims the lights in the open space from the remote on the coffee table, settling in while you make yourself comfortable in his side. Eddie keeps you close on nights like this, when he knows you're on unsteady ground. You're still quiet, but the start of another Twilight Zone marathon keeps you more alert than before. With steady breaths you start to relax in what he'd deem a healthier way than before, and the quiet doesn't make his brain too fuzzy this time around. In the still of the living room and the hum of Rod Serlings voice, he feels you squeeze his hand -- a silent thank you. He doesn't think he could be any more in love.

[suzukiblu]

Day ten of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I mean–it’s nice,” Kon says, smiling just as helplessly into his collar and keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as they walk. “Just, you know, it’s not the kinda stuff you usually get me. Like–it’s just, you know–pretty, or whatever. It’s not for anything. Like, I can’t wear it for you and it’s not, you know, food or a game or anything.” 

Tim did not actually realize that he hadn't bought Kon anything that didn't count as “useful” yet, though given the video games and candy and jewelry he's pretty sure they just have different definitions of what “useful” actually is. Also he needs to take a moment to not burn alive over Kon saying the phrase “wear it for you” again, which definitely takes the full moment, because Jesus Christ. 

That has not gotten any less affecting, yeah. 

“Oh, I guess,” he says in his best imitation of a normal person's normal voice. “I didn't really think about that. I just thought you might like it, so I got it for you.” 

Kon somehow finds a new shade of red to turn that honestly might actually be a Kryptonian-related one, considering the intensity of it. It is, unfortunately, cute as fuck. 

“I mean, I do like buying you clothes and stuff, obviously. You look really nice in that outfit, for one,” Tim says, and Kon glances away again, still smiling helplessly and still just as red-faced. He really does blush so easy. It’s weird, Tim thinks, given how much flirting he does. But maybe Kon’s just the “can dish it out but can’t take it” type, he guesses. 

Alternately, maybe people just aren’t complimenting him as often as he deserves and he's not used to hearing it. 

. . . Tim makes a mental note to pencil in some affirmations in Young Justice’s next training session and also to buy Kon even more flowers than he was already planning to. Flowers that come with little hand-written cards that say nice things about him, specifically. 

“You better think I look nice in it, pretty boy,” Kon says, biting his lip around another grin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me all fancied up.” 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked the crop top too,” Tim allows, and Kon bursts into laughter and then lets go of his jacket collar and just–beams at him, actually. Just–literally actually beams, brighter than anything in Gotham that doesn’t run on electricity. 

Tim manages not to step off the sidewalk into traffic by Robin-reflexes alone and literally nothing else. 

Jesus, that expression. 

“I like, uh–that,” Kon says, and then blushes a little darker again. “Um–I mean, I like that you, uh . . . like to get me stuff you think I look good in. Uh. I don’t know how to say this without it sounding weird, fuck, just–just I like it.” 

“Oh,” Tim says. The warehouse district in his brain is a lost cause; the fire has officially spread to the docks and across downtown. His mental Gotham is going the way of 1871 Chicago, he’s pretty sure. “Uh–um, good. I’m glad.” 

“It’s just, um–I dunno, it’s just nice to look nice for somebody,” Kon murmurs a little bit shyly, tugging his jacket collar up over his mouth again but still obviously smiling behind it. Tim isn’t sure if that’s a line of thought he should be concerned by after the kind of things Kon was saying earlier, if–“Instead of, you know. For everybody.” 

. . . Tim decides that actually, never mind the concern. Kon can look as good for him as he wants to, if what Kon’s used to is being stuck having to look good for some stupid ad campaign or magazine shoot or what the frick ever. And like–it’s not like he has a problem with Kon wanting to wear things he thinks he’ll like. That is pretty much the opposite of a problem for him, in fact. 

It probably explains the makeup, too. There were definitely not any ad campaigns with glitter eyeliner or nail polish involved. 

. . . not that Tim’s seen all the ad campaigns or anything, just–

Alright, fine, he’s seen all the ad campaigns. That’s just Bat SOP, alright? And definitely only Bat SOP.

[wonderjanga]

Funny idea a Fawcet entirely just being full of magical drugs and everybody just chilling I'm just imagining a spell here the Justice League get hit with a de-aging spelling Fawcet that are now just stuck in there convince know that he knows what he's doing tricks them to believe in that he has a form where he can turn into a kid and teaches them everything about Fawcet City like the police to get the best cereal with the most edible yummy drugs

And how to make soup and stuff from rainwater and a bag of magical drugs that he's like soup if you boil them right

The JL had gone to Fawcett as a surprise for Marvel. They all wanted to give him a special little gift. Though unfortunately, Cap had been caught up fighting an evil witch. So they stood to the side, in civvies, and waited. That was until a stray spell from the witch happened to hit them. Next thing they knew, all of them, excluding Marvel, were children.

Marvel: “It should wear off in about a day.”

Flash: “A day? We have places to be!”

Aquaman: “Are you sure you can’t do some magic and reverse us?”

Marvel: *little frown* “I’m sorry but I can’t.”

See, the thing is, Billy actually could. But he wanted to use it to his advantage. If he could get them to think that his Billy form is just a form he can take, then in the future if he ever gets detransformed, this could be a good excuse. Since all of them were children, he just let them back to his apartment and shazamed back to Billy. Here are a collection of wonderful instances of their time together:

Billy: “Here’s a favorite treat of mine.”*gets out some cereal and puts it in a bowl, with no milk mind you*

Flash: “No milk?”

Billy: “No?”

Flash: “You are a vile creature…”

Billy: “Am not! I just like eating it as chips!”

Flash: “Oh that’s less vile than I thought- Wait, but then what do you use tfor the milk when you want to actually eat it as cereal?”

Billy: “Water?”

Flash: “I take back my statement about you being less vile.”

Billy: “Shush. Go get a little plastic baggy of white powder from one of the cupboards.”

Flash: “Aye aye, Captain.” *salutes before zooming off and coming back with the little baggy* “This?”

Billy: “Yeah, thanks. This is my special ingredient. Just scatter a little bit over it-” *scatters it over like flour* “-mix it,-” *shakes the bowl so it mixes in* “-and voila!”

Flash: *leans over to look at it* “What is it? Powdered sugar?” *takes a piece of cereal and eats it*

Billy: “No, cocaine.”

Flash: *spits it out onto the floor* “Dude, what the fudge!”

Supes: *peaks his head into the room in concern*

Billy: “Aw cmon, Flash. What the buck, man?” *sounds disappointed and looking at the chewed up piece of cereal on his floor*

Flash: “What do you mean what the buck?! You just made me eat cocaine-laced cereal!”

Supes: “What?!”

Billy: “I didn’t make you eat it. You ate it before I could tell you what it was!”

Flash: “Only because literally no one would suspect that you lace your own cereal with a hardcore drug!”

or

Doctor: “Ah Billy! You have another sibling?” *looks at Bruce* “Golly, he looks just like Patrick Wayne’s boy.(Ref my posts mentioning how every Fawcitizen thinks Bruce is Thomas Wayne) And who are these other little friends of yours? Why’s that one green?”

Billy: “He’s a Martian. He can’t control his shape shifting stuff yet. Anyways, can I please get my usual dose doctor?”

Doctor: “Of course, let me just get that for you.” *leaves and comes back with a little baggy of meth*

Billy: “Is that methamphetamine?”

Doctor: “No, it’s magic methamphetamine! Blessed by some faeries.” *gives it to Billy*

Billy: “Thanks, Doc!” *sees him on the bag of meth* “You want some?”

Batman: “Mmm… Yes.”

MM: “Bruce?”

Batman: “I want to study it. What’s wrong with that?”

Then, Bruce, Billy, and J’onn got back to the apartment, Billy made them all some soup. Soup that was made with magical herbs. Herbs that had intense hallucinogenic properties to those who aren’t from Fawcett. So while Billy was feeling a mild euphoria due to the herbs, everyone else was flipping hallucinating.

Hawkgirl: *in a corner intently staring at her hands because she’s hallucinating hung waaaay to many fingers*

Flash: *running up and down walls chasing a hallucination*

WW: *hallucinating being a cowboy and running around with a piece of string trying to lasso GL

Billy: *sleeping peacefully in his bed*

They all passed out together in a kid sleep pile on top of Billy after all this.

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Attack of the Lady Manager!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: A girl weaves her way into the host club looking to steal your life, starting with your job and moving to your fiance ➼ what to expect: "believe it or not I'm not the heartless person you think I am" ➼ warnings: renge? angst ➼ Part Three | Part Five

“Oh, Tamaki, my dearest Tamaki, why are you so beautiful?”

Tamaki smirks softly, “I’m hoping to catch your eye, even for just one second.” Tamaki apprises elegantly.

“And why is your voice so very sweet and mellow?” a different guest, this time.

“To set your nerves at ease, so that my true feelings might reach your heart.” the response is almost immediate, practiced.

“Why are your eyes filled with tears every time you look at me?”

Teary eyed, even now, “Because the sight of your beautiful smile causes the fountain inside me to start overflowing.”

“Oh, Tamaki~!”

You shake your head through a laugh as you watched Tamaki carries out his usual spiel "Do you ever wonder how on earth Tamaki comes up with this stuff?" You think allowed.

Kyoya hums in agreement, not looking up from his notebook. "he always has had a natural affinity for this kind of stuff, although I must admit some particular lines he comes up with I will never understand where he pulls them from"

"Hello Kyoya, I can't get over how great you look in that Kimono" two guests appear next to where the two of you were sat "Are you planning on releasing anymore picture books of the host club?"

"Unfortunately we don't have anything planned at present ladies" The guests move on with a pout "Oh, Kyoya!" You joke, faking to fawn over him, raising your hand to your forehead "If I didn't know better I would think you a guest"

"You wish, I'm afraid you're obligated to give me your time for free" I taunt, returning to going over the clubs events calendar for that month. "What do you think?" handing over the calendar for him to confirm whether or not it's in line with the club's budget.

Kyoya's face lights up at the sight of the calendar, scanning over its contents "This is...really good...you do a much better job than Tamaki at organising this stuff"

"Really?" kyoya seems lost in thought for a moment, smiling a little at the page "Yeah..."

"Looks like the host club has a brand-new guest." the two of you look up to find a girl hiding in the doorway catching the attention of the hosts.

the twins appear suddenly in front of her, Kaoru offering her a rose.

“Come on in, what are you waiting for?”

“Watching from afar is no fun.” Hikaru presents her with another rose.

Where they got the roses? No one could ever tell.

“Please, Miss.” they insist, leaning forward ever so slightly. The girl makes a small sound of surprise.

“Stop that, how many times do I have to tell you to be more courteous to our first-time guests?” Tamaki presents her with yet another identical rose.

“Please, you don’t have to be afraid, my princess.” Tamaki caresses her chin with his finger, she seems afraid despite his affirmations, “I welcome you to the Ouran Host Club.”

The girl’s hand flies across Tamaki’s cheek as she shoves him away, “No! Don’t touch me! You’re phony!” She screams.

The entire host club observes with a collective gasp, wide eyes watching the scene unfold.

Tamaki staggers from the impact and covers his reddening face with his palm, “What do you mean I’m phony?!” He panics, his voice muffled.

“Just what I said! You’re phony! I find it hard to believe that someone like you is the prince character of this host club!”

Tamaki back-peddles from her accusing finger and loud volume with panicked breathing, to which you flinch at gently.

“You shouldn’t go spreading your love around so easily like that, you stupid! You must be a dimwitted narcissist! You’re incompetent! You’re a commoner! You’re disgusting!”

One strike after another to Tamaki’s ego, and he finally keels over.

He’s created a new technique!”

“One man slow-motion!”

You stand over Tamaki, just slightly in front of Kyoya, who seems deep in thought.

“I don’t suppose… you are…?”

Kyoya doesn’t get to finish his thought before the strange girl is gasping with a high pitch, her eyes welling up with tears and her face morphing into amazement.

“It’s you, Kyoya!” She shrieks, shoving you roughly out of her way, to which you grunt as Haruhi catches you by both arms.

“What on earth-?”

The girl forces herself into Kyoya’s arms in a strangling embrace, her face buried into his kimono.

“Oh, how I’ve longed to meet you! My one and only prince charming!” she squeals obnoxiously.

You stood stunned slightly off the side, having no idea what was going on, your breath hitching in your throat as you make eye contact with Kyoya in a mutual glance of helplessness.

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“Your fiancé?" Hikaru questioned

"Kyoya-Senpai?” Kaoru following soon behind.

You sat in the corner of the room watching everything unfold, you did not know what to think. Was there something that you hadn't been told? Did your father break off your engagement? Had Kyoya been arranged to marry another? Surely you wouldn't still be in Japan if that was the case.

You look off to your left as you realise that Tamaki is sulking in a similar fashion to you. "Why is he sulking?" Hikaru questioned

"Because mommy kept a secret from daddy" Kaoru answered teasingly. "Whatever. Why does everyone refer to us like we're husband and wife?" Kyoya asked, gaze slowly being adverted as his attention was slowly being pulled to you, sat at a table in the corner having a cup of coffee by yourself.

"Ours is a story of love at first sight!” Renge announces, fawning over the 'memory' which was when you caught on that something even weirder was happening, Kyoya could have another arranged fiance but if you knew one thing it was that Kyoya was not in love.

“I couldn’t resist the way you were adoring those flowers in the backyard when you thought no one else was looking! And how sweet it was when you reached out to that poor little injured kitten!”

“Are you serious? Could you have the wrong person?” You gesture violently to Kyoya standing adjacent to you, clearly not the man she was describing.

“No way! I could recognize my love anywhere!” Renge near screams in your face. Kyoya staring blankly next to you

“He’s a gentleman who’s kind to everyone but doesn’t ask for anything in return! He likes solitude but, in fact, sometimes he gets lonely!”

"Okay now I know we aren't talking about the same person" You chimed in, not expecting Kyoya to shoot you what may have been the first look of hurt that you had seen off of him.

"He looks like the star of the dating sim Uki-Doki Memorial! You’re my real life Ichijo Miyabi!” Renge finally squeals out, allowing the hosts to realize she was delusional, erasing their confusion.

“Oh, alright. She’s delusional.” Your expression relaxes when you realize that Kyoya isn’t hiding a secret fiancé behind everyone’s back.

“Uki-”

“Doki-”

“OTAKU!” Tamaki screeches in panic.

“OTAKU?!” Hikaru gasps in astonishment.

“I’VE NEVER SEEN ONE!” Kaoru wails.

Kyoya’s now seated on the same sofa, once again, deep in thought.

“I get it now, you’re in love with that character. You’re projecting that love onto me and somehow deluded yourself into thinking that we’re engaged.” Kyoya explains as Renge skips around behind him with obnoxious squealing.

“I assume this Miyabi character probably wears glasses as well.” On cue, Kyoya adjusts his glasses.

“So she… made it up? You’re not really her fiancé, right?” Tamaki holds his breath in hope.

“Well no, I don’t ever remember asking for her hand in marriage.” Kyoya shrugs “Besides, this is the first time I’ve ever met the woman.” Kyoya crosses his arms casually.

You stood with you arms crossed behind the sofa he was sat on "...Not to mention you're already engaged?" you pointed out the obvious.

Renges frolicking came to a grinding halt "Already...engaged?" you did not know whether or not you should shatter this illusion of hers. "Yes! y/n and kyoya-senpai are engaged!" Honey chimed in with no regard for the consequences.

"You!" Renge screamed in your face "What do you know about MY Kyoya? He doesn't deserve you! He's going to marry me!" she rambled at a hundred miles a minute. You exchange a concerned glance with Kyoya.

"Uh...I..." She seemed to quickly forget about you, jumping in front of Kyoya . According to my research, I understand that you’re in charge of managing the club, is that true, Kyoya?”

“That’s right! Kyo-Chan is our director!” Honey confirms.

“You’re the club’s director? That’s perfect! Oh wow, I’ve always wanted to wear a sandwich board to advertise a business!” Renge squeals.

“We… don’t advertise, we’re just a host club.” you point out, becoming increasingly bothered at her presence. Ignoring you, Renge spins with determination, “I’ve made up my mind! From now on, I’m gonna be the manager of this host club!”

You paused, getting increasingly frustrated at her presence, but before you go to tell her that you're already the manager Kyoya grabs your upper arm, leaning in to whisper "The Houshakuji family are incredibly good friends with both of our fathers, we just have to play into this for a while until I can figure something out"

"You're okay with this?" You question, raising an eyebrow "I'd rather not but believe it or not I'm not the heartless person you think I am, I can play it off for a while" You didn't expect Kyoya to throw your words back in your face, leaving you stunned.

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“I thought about it a lot last night, and maybe having another lady manager isn’t such a bad idea.”

“Here we go.” you roll your eyes at Tamaki’s assessment.

“Why do you say that?” The twins urge.

“Well, it’s fairly obvious, isn’t it? Renge just transferred into the same class as Haruhi. So, if Haruhi has a girlfriend around, it could bring out the female within her. Renge’s girlish air of tenderness might be able to stimulate Haruhi’s own sense of femininity!”

"I swear it's like I don't exist sometimes" You mutter looking around to see if anyone else was going to call it out, Haruhi laughs a little "You'd think that given that I need to not let people know I'm a girl he wouldn't want me to gain more femininity."

“Now is our chance to help Haruhi get in touch with her feminine side! This is an important project, men. She doesn’t have any friends in class right now except for these two shady twins. That’s no good for her.” Tamaki urges. “Like you have room to talk.” The twins tilt their heads.

“Hey everyone!” Renge soon enters the room much to your dismay. “You’ll be happy to know that your new manager, Renge, has baked all of you some cookies!”

Tamaki fawns over the act “Isn’t she ladylike? I’m so moved by your generosity!” she swoons.

“I didn’t bake these cookies for you, you phony prince.” she denied him, Tamaki returns to sulking in a corner.

Renge plants herself in front of Kyoya, “I’m sorry I burnt them a little bit. I did the best I could.” she stares up at him with wide heart eyes.

“And I already know what you’re going to say. Oh, you’re always so sweet to me, Kyoya!”

Honey tries a cookie near you, “She wasn’t kidding, these cookies really are burnt.” He grimaces.

Mori appears behind him, “Don’t eat that Mitsukuni, it’s bad for you.” he informs. Renge, enraged, chases them around the room noisily. “She’s scaring me!” Honey cries, carried by Mori as they flee from Renge’s raging rampage.

On the other side of the room the twins sit scheming, Hikaru whispering to Kaoru "Have you noticed that y/n and Kyoya haven't said a word to each other all day?"

Kaoru looks over to the two of you, a noticable distance in between "I can't imagine that she is too happy with Renge coming in and trying to steal her life"Hikaru adds on"And Kyoya seems way too complicit with it all"

As if they shared a mutual light bulb moments the two of them exchange smug smirks as they get an idea "We should push them in the right direction"

Hikaru approaches you to take the cookie that you had just picked up from your hand and puts back into your mouth, lifting your chin with his fingers.

“May I try?” he bites into the cookie while still in your mouth. Your cheeks flush as half the cookie is still perched between your lips, unsure of where this came from.

This managed to grab Kyoya's attention, looking up from his notebook for the first time of the day.

Kaoru slides a hand behind your neck, “Uh oh, y/n, you’ve got crumbs on your face.” His tongue slides out and streaks across your cheek to lick up the crumbs. You whimper and squint your eyes shut at the proximity, hoping that whatever the twins were doing would end soon.

Kyoya’s grip on his pen tightens as Tamaki emerges from his corner in a fury.

“Did you see what they just did?!” Tamaki screaches and points at the twins. “He took a bite of the cookie while it was in her mouth! And then the other one licked her face! What are they doing?! I told you those shady twins can’t be trusted! They’re trying to seduce her!”

You rub your cheek gently “You know you could have just told me and I would’ve wiped it off.” your face contorting in disgust. You look to Hikaru, “And if you wanted to try one, there’s plenty here.” You gesture with the bag of cookies.

Tamaki takes a sharp intake of breath, sounding similar to a snort, grabbing your face urgently, “That’s not the way you’re supposed to react, y/n! You have to stay strong and reject them, then casually brush them to the side! Do you understand?!”

“This is sexual harassment, Tamaki.” You snort, crossing your arms.

“SEXUAL HARASSMENT?! If that counts as sexual harassment then they’re twice as guilty! Someone call the police!”

“Cut it out, Boss, we’re sorry!” The twins plead,the fear of god being sent into them.

Renge watches the scene with a scowl. Honey approaches her cautiously.

“Renge-Chan, Renge-Chan! Want some? It’s milk.” He presents her with a pink cup with a bunny imprinted on the side.

Renge ponders a moment, “Lukewarm…”

“Huh?”

“Every single one of you! Except for Kyoya, all of your characters are lukewarm! Each of you needs to have some sort of dark side, you understand? Girls are vulnerable to handsome young men who are troubled! If you keep carrying on like this, it’s only a matter of time before the girls get tired of you and stop coming altogether! Are you trying to ruin my precious Kyoya’s business?! As your manager, it’s my duty to change your character backgrounds! Let’s start with you!”

"Change their character backgrounds? They're people not video game characters" you spoke up. Renge paused, slowly turning to face you with a look of horror "GET OUT!" she screams.

Your eyes widen, taken aback a little, you go to reply but in doing so you make eye contact with kyoya, silently reminding you of why you can't offend Renge "Fine. I'm just going to go" You can hear Honey calling after you as you leave the host club.

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How you ended up on the movie set you have no idea, the last thing you wanted was to be was around Renge or even Kyoya, but somehow since you are part of the host club officially you have to be on set for insurance reasons.

You ended up standing behind Kyoya as the two of you watch Haruhi play out a scene "You know she won't stop right?" The words come out before you get the chance to stop them. Kyoya hummed in question, turning around to face you. "The longer that you play into this fantasy shes created the more that shes going to believe its real, she wont stop by herself"

Kyoya paused, thinking it over "We've spoken about this, if we offend her-"

"Her taking offence and her father taking offence are two different things, our families are close enough for him to know that you already have an engagement he will understand" you wanted to point out that it was likely her father already knew about her delusions but that was by the by.

Kyoya looked at you pointedly "You really don't like her, do you?" you roll your eyes "I- Not really, but it's beyond that really, i... of course I know that she can't just break the deal between our parents but if that ever happens I have to leave Japan...and I just don't want that to happen"

Kyoya can tell that there is a little more to that story but he figures that it's for another time. The two of you look over as the movie set goes haywire "I know you don't care either way...but I need this deal as much as my father does"

"She doesn't have that much sway" he dismissed, waving you away "You really do not care do you?" the question caught him off guard, his eyes widening in shock before quickly pulling himself together "What do you mean?"

"If Renge carries on as she is, the host club is gonna be torn apart, she's already taken over, I've been pushed out so there's no need for me to be around anymore. Honey's on verge of a breakdown because this new persona she's given goes completely against who he is. i know you only do something if it benefits you but I am asking you just this once to at least pretend like you care"

Kyoya fell silent, looking out at how miserable the club members are , he wants to tell you that he does care, that he doesn't want the club to get torn apart or the engagement to breakdown, but he can't bring himself to.

As an argument breaks out on set Kyoya walks away without another word, grabbing a rock off the ground before smashing the camera lens. "no! what did you do to my camera?"

"What? Is something wrong?" Renge asks innocently.

"I'm terribly sorry but i cannot allow this to go on any longer, this movie paints the host club in a bad light and frankly the position you are trying to take was already filled long ago."

You didn't expect Kyoya to take such a drastic action but it made sense right up till he mentioned you. Why?

"I think you've caused enough trouble around here Renge. Please stop being such a pest"

Renge breaks out into tears "A pest? But you're supposed to pat me on the head and tell me not to worry! You're supposed to be kind and affectionate Kyoya! Why are you acting any differently now! Tell me why!"

"Because that's not the real Kyoya" Tamai chimes in, Renge gasps, breaking down before him. "Does it really matter?" Haruhi asks, appearing in front of her. "Who cares if Kyoya is a little different than you expected him to be. Take a good look at the person inside, and get to know him little by little. It’s a lot more fun that way.”

You lock eyes with Kyoya, realising that why he hadn't noticed how much you cared, you didn't either. Kyoya doesn't show feelings, you know that, but he is kind, just in his own way. If he wasn't he wouldn't have sat with you at the ball, or help you in the clinic, or step in.

Maybe you needed to start following Haruhi's advice.

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Hello, ladies, come on in.” Tamaki encourages from his position with the other hosts on the sofa.

“I bought the video of that film you made!”

“I bought it too!”

“And so did I!”

“Huh?” The host club choruses in confusion as the girls fawn over the professionally produced film.

“That scene in the rain was just phenomenal!”

“I love the lonely prince!”

“And the loving relationship between Hikaru and Kaoru is so sweet!”

“I couldn’t get enough of Haruhi’s poignant expression!”

Tamaki’s hair covers his eyes with a prominent frown. “Kyoya?” He grumbles, not needing to say much more to elicit a response from said host, throwing his head back to where the two of you were sat on opposite ends of a sofa.

“I may have broken the camera’s lens but the footage that we had already shot wasn’t damaged. Naturally, I did cut out that last scene. Sales have been pretty good so far, that Hollywood film crew did a fantastic job. But then I guess, that’s to be expected.”

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head, glad that the host club was back to normal now. "Something amusing?" He asked, looking over to you. "Nothing"

the two of you fell into a comfortable silence before you speak up once more "I should thank you, for shutting down Renge" you eventually concede. "It was no problem, besides, you are a much better manager than she was"

You hummed back, watching Tamaki have another breakdown "I don't know why I thought she could actually replace me, I don't know what you guys would do without me sometimes" he laughed.

"Indeed"

Next time on patience 'The Twins fight!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun

[christhopersturniolo]

୨ MY LITTLE SISTER ୧ matt

summary: you had some plans with your boyfriend matt for the weekend, but something unexpected happens, and you have to babysit your little sister.

notes: this is my second time ever writing a fanfic (go read my first one) and english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, but I hope you enjoy it! all ears to feedbacks, l'd love to know what you think!

warnings: cussing, fluff

୨୧

I sigh “And why can’t you take her with you?” I say taking my eyes out of the screen and looking at my mom.

“How long will it take for you to understand that your dad is on a business trip and i’m going on one as well?” She answers walking from a side to another, packing some of her things. “I can’t take her with me, even if I wanted to.”

"But mom-" I start, only to be cut off.

"No buts, Y/n.” She interrupts, her tone firm. “I’m being serious." She looks straight into my eyes "It's what I'm telling you, you'll have to stay with your sister. I won't be paying for a babysitter while you're here with your ass in the couch. You are almost 18, you can very well take care of her, it’s only for the weekend.”

“But I told you I have plans with Matt!” I exclaim, leaning my head back on the headrest of the couch in annoyance.

My mom is about to reply when we hear the sound of my 3 year old little sister's footsteps coming from her room, followed by her little giggles.

We automatically get silent about this topic. I take a deep breath, reminding myself she's not the problem, she's just a child caught up in our adult issues. Bella is not the problem.

Don't get me wrong, I do love my sister, but it's a bit overwhelming to adjust having a sibling after being the only child for years. And with my mom's age, it's unexpected, to say the least.

SKIP TIME

Today is the day that my mom is going to her ‘super important business trip’, and also the day Im supposed to have a date with Matt.

After my mother left at 7am, Bella and I found ourselves up earlier than usual. We already had breakfast, so now, we don’t really have anything to do. We go to the living room, watch some TV.

Bella sits on the couch next to me and chooses the channel. After some good ten minutes, I look at my right to check on her, and she’s completely asleep, what makes me smile.

Until I realize that I didn’t canceled my dinner with Matt.

Shit, I completely forgot to talk with Matt! Fuck!

I get up and I go over to my bedroom, getting my phone and calling him. He takes some seconds to answer the call.

“Babe? Sorry, did I wake you up?” I ask, hoping the answer would be ‘no’.

“No, No, No..” He says with his husky morning voice, he definitely just woke up. “But why are you calling this early? Is something wrong?” I could feel myself getting fucking soaked as he talks, sorry, but his voice in the morning? I can’t take it.

I take a deep breath, trying to think straight. "Um, yeah.. Actually, my mom went out for the weekend, and I have to babysit my sister.. I don't know if I'll be able to make it to the dinner we had planned tonight”

“Oh” A simple response, What does that even mean? He probably hates me now.

"I know you already made the reservation, and I was super excited, I swear," I start saying nothing with nothing, feeling guilty for ruining our plans. "But then my mom told me she had this thing and..."

Before I could finish apologizing, Matt cuts me, understanding. "No babe, that's fine. Don't worry. Maybe we can do something else? With your sister? I have stuff to do all day, but I’m free at night, maybe we can have a sleepover or something?”

I sigh in relief “Yeah sure, that sounds great, I will talk about It with Bella”

“Alright call me later sweetheart, love you, bye” He ends the call and I go back to the living room, getting back on my place.

Bella is still peaceful sleeping on the couch. Not wanting to disturb her, I cover her with a blanket, but my actions unfortunately wake her up, blinking her sleepy eyes open. A small yawn escapes her lips, and she looks at me with a drowsy smile.

"Hey, sleepyhead" I whisper, gently brushing a piece of hair from her face. "Did you have a nice nap?" Bella nods, rubbing her eyes with tiny hands. "Mhm" she murmurs, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

I think about a way to tell her that Matt is coming over before she could fall back asleep “So.. do you remember my boyfriend, Matt?" Bella blinks, her sleepy expression turning curious. "Mm-hmm" she mumbles again, nodding slowly.

“What if.. He came over to a super fun sleepover with us today?” I say trying to sound extra excited to convince her.

Bella's eyes light up with excitement at the mention of a sleepover. "Yeah!" She exclaims, her drowsiness quickly dissipating. "Matt is funny!" Her sentence makes me chuckle “Oh he is?” She nods giggling, It doesn't even look like she just woke up.

The rest of the day, she doesn’t stop talking about Matt.

“Then- Then will Matt play games with me?”

“And can we watch frozen? I think Matt will like it”

Over and over, she’s more excited than me. But I mean, I can’t blame her, It’s Matt over all.

Around 8pm, Matt rings on the doorbell. I go over to the front door, Bella follows me, getting behind my left leg. I open the door and I see my boyfriend with two bouquets of flowers, a big one, and a small one.

“Hey love” He leans for a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, then he hands me the bouquet “This is for you”

A smile appears across my face, I chuckle “Thank you so much.. You really didn’t had to” I say looking at my favorite flowers.

“No that’s fine, don’t worry” Matt returns the smile, his eyes lighting up as he sees Bella peeking out shyly from behind me. "Hey, Bella" he says warmly, crouching down to her level. "I also brought these for you, little princess" he says, offering her the smaller bouquet with a gentle smile.

Bella looks at me, seeing Bella's hesitation, I give her a soft nod, silently urging her to accept the flowers from Matt. With a shy smile, Bella reaches out and takes the bouquet from him, still with one hand around my leg.

“What do we say Bella?” I place my hand on the top of her head, caressing her hair.

“Thank you Matt” She says still shy.

"You're welcome, Belly" He responds getting up, his voice gentle and kind.

Some hours after playing some board games and talking, Bella decided to go get her toys.

She returns carrying a bunch of dolls and stuffed animals, then she settles onto the carpet in front of us and places everything there. “Matt come play with me!” She says excited with some barbie’s in her small hands.

He gets up from the couch, and sits down next to Bella on the floor “Alright so what doll am I?” Bella looks around “Hmmm..” She grabs a really bad looking doll, marker-covered, and hands it to Matt. I automatically start laughing uncontrollably, Matt matches the energy.

I am just watching as they play, Bella makes Matt use a girly voice, what just makes everything ten times better for my entertainment.

After Bella got tired of playing with her toys, she made us watch frozen, it’s her favorite movie, this is probably her fifth time watching it. I sit on the left side of the couch, Matt on the middle and my sister next to him. Some 30 minutes after the movie started, Bella is already with her head on Matt’s lap, sleeping like a little angel, as Matt gently strokes her hair and she snuggles closer to him.

His eyes meet mine, seeing me watching him, he smiles “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” With a soft smile, I rest my head on Matt's shoulder “You just look so cute taking care of kids” He chuckles and leaves a kiss on the top of my head.

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this actually sucked, i’m so bad at doing cute scenes, this def wasn’t what I had in mind lol, maybe i will delete it later.