#⋆˚｡🎶| time to play the next piece!

[honkai-kin-rail]

Hello hello, would you be interested in doing asexual Jiaoqiu icon edits? Thank you in advance.

If I get my scheduling right (and my queue is nice to me) then it should be up now ^^' I'll add a link here later as well

they got uploaded in the wrong order so I'm doing it now but! yes, here

[dakusan]

Y O U T E X T “ I M I S S Y O U ” O U T O F N O W H E R E

stray kids ot8 x reader | quiet confessions, sleepy chaos, and hearts that ache before they answer

🌙 synopsis: You don’t mean to send it. Not dramatically. Not with tears in your eyes. Just…“i miss you.” Quiet. Honest. Unfiltered. And suddenly—They’re not okay. This isn’t just texting. This is emotional freefall in three words or less. This is “i miss you” turned into “i love you” without either of you saying it.

💌 a/n: this was supposed to be short. just a little “what if you texted ‘i miss you’” post. and then chan said “i wanna hold you while the track renders” and everything spiraled. i hope you feel held. i hope you feel insane. i hope you text someone “i miss you” and they drop everything to say “get here. your side’s cold.” thank you for reading this 8-piece set of emotional damage disguised as fluff. p.s. reblogs = forehead kisses p.p.s. if one of them ever actually said this to me i would simply dissolve into a memory and haunt their laundry.

📍credits: @cafekitsune for the dividers

🎶 Now Playing: "All About You" — Taeyeon

Bang Chan // 방찬

It’s 1:13 AM when you send it. No emoji. No context. Just:

i miss you.

He sees it between takes — fingers hovering above his keyboard, cursor blinking on the same half-finished vocal comp he’s looped for 40 minutes. The studio is dim, lit only by the soft blue glow of his screen and the flickering ‘recording’ sign outside the booth. His hoodie sleeves are pushed to his elbows. There’s a half-drunk bottle of Pocari on the desk. Lo-fi is playing quietly in the background — something soft, without words.

He stops.

Just… sits there for a second, staring at your message like it reached into his chest and gently pressed there.

Because you never say it out of nowhere. You’re careful. Thoughtful. Always timing your affection like a gift. And now, when you’re apart and quiet and distant—You miss him.

He exhales, thumb brushing over the screen. Smiles, crooked and slow, like it snuck up on him.

Then he does what he always does with feelings too big to hold: he turns to the mic. Doesn’t even rerecord the verse. Just switches on the track, leans into the mic, and softly hums something new — something with warmth, with ache, with the kind of sound that curls like a blanket around everything he can’t say yet.

When it’s done, he sends it.

[1:24 AM] (1 audio message) “miss you too. enough to put it in a song. come over if you can. you don’t have to say anything. i just wanna hold you while the track renders.”

Lee Know // 리노

You send it at 10:56 PM. No warning. No dramatic lead-up. Just:

i miss you.

He’s in bed. Not asleep. Not even trying. Just lying there in the dark with his phone balanced on his chest, a drama paused mid-episode and a cat curled up by his legs.

He sees your name light up, reads the message twice — once with his heart, once with his overthinking.

Immediately: suspicious. Out of nowhere? From you? At this hour?

His first instinct is to roll his eyes. His second is to reread it. His third is to sit up, grab his pillow, and clutch it in his lap like it’ll stop the way his stomach just turned to something embarrassingly warm.

You don’t say it unless you mean it. You don’t say it unless you need something. And suddenly, he hates that he’s not there — that you miss him and he can’t fix it, can’t hold you, can’t act all unimpressed while secretly tucking you under his arm like you belong there.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard for a while. He types and deletes twice. The third time sticks.

[11:02 PM] ...what happened? [11:02 PM] did someone say something? are you lonely? do you want me to come over or do you just want attention? [11:03 PM] ...because if it’s attention, you have it. idiot.

He throws the pillow across the room right after. Then spends the next hour watching your typing bubble like it holds the moon.

Changbin // 창빈 💪

It’s 8:14 PM when you send it. You don’t say anything else. Just:

i miss you.

He sees it halfway through a workout — hoodie tied around his waist, arms flushed and pumped, headphones in, breath ragged from a set he absolutely overdid. His phone buzzes on the bench. He wipes a hand on his towel, glances at the screen—

—and freezes.

There are a few people still in the gym. He barely hears them. Because something about that message punches the air straight out of his lungs.

You’re not usually the one to say it first. Not without a reason. Not unless something’s aching a little too much. And now you miss him — and he’s here, lifting weights like that’s gonna hold you together.

He grabs his phone and walks off into the hallway, chest still rising and falling like he just sprinted. It’s not even just the message. It’s the way his heart reacted — instantly. Like it’s been waiting to hear that from you all day.

His thumbs move fast:

[8:16 PM] you do?? 😭 [8:16 PM] pls tell me you’re free tonight i’ll cancel everything [8:17 PM] srsly. i miss u so bad i almost tripped doing lunges bc i started picturing ur face like a loser.

He stops, stares at his own text, groans into his towel.

And then:

(1 voice note) “if you’re free, come over. if not… call me? i’ll sit in my room like a lovesick sitcom character until you do.”

He puts the phone in his hoodie pocket after that. Heart loud. Arms sore. Entire soul? Yours.

Hyunjin // 현진 🎭

It’s 12:01 AM when you send it. Simple. Soft. No punctuation, no drama. Just:

i miss you

He’s painting. Alone in his apartment. A candle flickers beside his easel, wax dripping slowly as strokes of deep indigo curve across canvas. There’s music in the background—something orchestral, echoing, probably a little sad. His sleeves are rolled. Fingers stained with muted color.

The message buzzes through his speaker. He pauses mid-stroke. His breath catches.

Because you say it without pretense. You say it like it’s just true. You say it like you couldn’t hold it in any longer, like your heart blurted it out without consulting your pride.

And it ruins him.

He sets the brush down. Gently. Like it might shatter. Wipes his hands on a cloth. Looks at your name glowing on his phone like it’s the first star of the night. His throat is tight.

His first text is typed and deleted. Too dramatic. He rewrites it. Softer.

[12:04 AM] i’ve been aching to hear that [12:04 AM] i miss you in every quiet moment between brushstrokes [12:05 AM] do you want to facetime or do you want me to come stand outside your window with a candle and recite pablo neruda

He stares at the send button like it might bite him. Then presses it anyway.

His heart is a cathedral when you reply.

Han // 한 🌀

It’s 2:06 AM when you send it. No buildup. No emojis. Just:

i miss you

He was literally just lying there. Hoodie on. Face half in his pillow. Watching some dumb video on mute. Laughing at something he won’t remember in 3 minutes. He’s got crumbs on his hoodie and like, four unread messages in his group chat. He’s vibing. Barely thinking. Just static.

Until he sees you on his screen.

And suddenly — he’s wide awake.

He sits up like a corpse in a horror movie, staring at your message with the kind of intensity people reserve for bomb countdowns. His heart does a full Olympic gymnastics routine. His brain? Gone. Offline. In heaven. On fire.

He starts typing and deleting. So fast.

First message: too clingy. Second: too cool. Third: accidentally a marriage proposal.

He hits send before he can regret it:

[2:07 AM] What do you mean 😭😭😭 do you miss me like... miss me or like miss my memes [2:08 AM] bc if u miss ME i am currently free and emotionally compromised [2:08 AM] if u call me rn i’ll answer like it’s a drama and say ‘you finally called…’ i’m not kidding

Then, because he hates himself but also needs you to KNOW:

(1 voice note) “hi. i miss you too. like. so bad. like ‘watching our old tiktoks and tearing up’ bad. ok i’m gonna go cry into my cereal now bye 😭”

And then he rolls over, buries his face in his pillow, and kicks his feet like a 16-year-old girl in a coming-of-age movie.

Felix // 필릭스 🌻

It’s 9:36 PM when you send it. Soft. Unassuming. Just:

i miss you

He’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, gaming headset half-on, controller resting in his lap. His monitor’s still glowing with the lobby screen, but he hasn’t clicked “ready” in three minutes.

Because your name popped up. And those three little words didn’t just land — they sank.

He re-reads it, smiling like he can’t help it. Like your message reached through the screen and gently cupped his face.

He’s not the type to question it. Not the type to pretend it doesn’t matter. You miss him — and he misses you too. More than he’s said. More than he knows how to say sometimes.

So he picks up his phone, pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders, and texts back with all the warmth he has:

[9:38 PM] angel :( i was just thinking about u too [9:39 PM] i miss u in like. the way stars miss the sky [9:40 PM] wanna call? or i can come over w snacks n cuddles n a playlist titled ‘us time’ 🫂💛

And because that’s not enough — not nearly enough — he sends a voice note too. His voice low, soft, wrapped in honey:

(voice note, 0:08) “i miss you so much it kinda makes my chest tight... but like in a good way. please come over. i’ll make hot chocolate. with the cinnamon u like.”

Seungmin // 승민

It’s 11:22 PM when you send it. No flourish. No drama. Just:

i miss you

He’s brushing his teeth. Pajamas on. Sleep playlist already playing low from his Bluetooth speaker. The apartment is still. Lights soft. Everything quiet — except his brain, which goes static the second your message appears.

He pauses, toothbrush halfway out of his mouth. Stares at the notification like it personally insulted him. His heartbeat? Loud. Chest? Tight. Eyes? Suddenly way too focused on the “i” in “i miss you.”

And of course—he has to respond the only way he knows how: with sarcasm and a mild breakdown. He rinses, spits, towels off his face, and flops onto bed, one arm dramatically over his eyes. Then, thumb to phone:

[11:24 PM] wow. desperate much? [11:25 PM] should i feel special or r u just lonely n scrolling ur contacts [11:26 PM] jk. unless.

He stares at those texts. Chews his lip. Rolls over. Sighs. Then types again — slower this time.

[11:28 PM] ...i was literally just about to text you [11:28 PM] this is annoying [11:28 PM] i miss you too

And because he knows you’re probably pouting, he sends one final message:

(photo attachment: his pillow with space beside it) get here. your side’s cold.

I.n // 아이엔

It’s 10:01 PM when you send it. Simple. Sweet. Just:

i miss you

He sees it while leaning against the balcony railing, earbuds in, hoodie unzipped, cool night air brushing against his skin. The city glows beneath him — golden windows, blinking lights, soft hum of life continuing below.

He reads your message and smiles — not wide. Just a slow, knowing curve that tugs at the corner of his mouth.

You texted first. You cracked first. And he loves that.

But what he doesn’t say — not yet — is that he’d been about to text you the same thing. He’d been replaying that last voice note you left him. He’d been standing out here thinking about the way your hand feels when it’s tucked inside his hoodie pocket. He’s not cocky about it. Just… calm. Quietly wrecked.

He replies:

[10:02 PM] you miss me already? [10:02 PM] i thought u were tougher than this 🤭 [10:03 PM] ...good. i was starting to think i’m the only one losing sleep over you

Then he sends a photo: His shadow on the balcony, city lights in the distance, and the caption:

“you’d look better standing here next to me.”

And just like that — you're done for. Because so is he.

[ahundredtimesover]

Hold Me Closer | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. brother Jimin)

Genre/Tags: brother’s best friends au; slight angst, fluff, smut

Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption; kitchen emergency; eldest child feels, adulting; explicit sexual content (making out, oral m & f receiving, unprotected sex but be safe please!); Seven JK (18+)

Word count: 19.2k

Read Part 1: Hold Me Close

Summary: When you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up... Not if your brother can help it, though.

Listen to 🎵: Hands Down by Dashboard Confessional

Playlist 🎶: High School Playlist

A/N 1: I know I said I’d be on a break but I reread Hold Me Close and found comfort in this Jungkook 🥹 so I went ahead and wrote this little piece! Whipped and comforting boyfriend JK is what I needed so I hope you enjoy this 💕

Six - the number of work calls you’ve already taken in the last hour, with each one of them lasting one whole song. Jungkook calculates that you’ve spent half of the entire drive since leaving Seoul talking with your boss about some report that he somehow can’t complete without you, which sucks because Jungkook was really looking forward to this road trip with you and his best friend.

You groan after you hang up and the clackity clack of the keyboard continues. He was hoping to hold your hand while he drove and maybe sing with you some of your favorite songs that he put on but it doesn’t seem like those will happen anytime soon. You’re immersed in your work but he guesses you have to be; the sooner this ends, the sooner your focus will be on him and this present moment.

He finds the positive side of it at least. He gets to listen to you explain things - why the numbers are what they are, what targets you reached, and what risks you managed. It’s quite silly but it’s kind of a turn on, hearing you talk about something you know like the back of your hand, pretty much proving to your crap of a boss how good you are at your job and why you’re an asset to the company. You know your shit, and you have a classy way of making sure they know that you do. 

Six calls, and Jungkook already knows half of your project report. And perhaps he’ll know more, as the seventh one comes.

You let it ring for one, two, three times, as you hold your phone in one hand while you continue to type away with the other. 

“I swear to god, ___. If you don’t pick that up, I’m  gonna throw your phone out of this car,” Jimin, who’s comfortably seated in the backseat, growls. 

The dramatics is understandable because one, it’s Jimin and two, the constant ringing is a little bit much.

“___, I’m not fucking kiddi—”

“Hello, sir,” you finally answer, then proceed to discuss this month’s analytics and projections for the succeeding quarter.

Jungkook predicts it’s gonna take you another whole song to finish, so he instead focuses on the road and appreciates the clear skies and familiar scenery of the drive to Busan. His thoughts go to how these next several days are gonna go. There’s visiting your favorite spots growing up, going to a resort, staying in to eat and play video games, and of course, cuddling with you in your room, as you and Jimin will have your parents’ house to yourselves once they leave for their anniversary trip in two days.

His musings are disrupted though, when he looks at the rear view mirror and sees Jimin’s annoyed face blocking his view. Jungkook can’t help but laugh, especially when he hears his best friend grumbling complaints just behind him.

“Leave her be, she’ll be done soon,” Jungkook dismisses him. “They sound like important stuff.”

“She’s talking so loudly!” Jimin groans. “I just want to reminisce and sing along to our teenage emo music, Kook.”

Jungkook turns the music off. 

“There, I paused it. You can sing along once she’s done speaking on the phone,” he says.

Jimin pouts in response. “You always take her side. You weren’t like this when we were kids.”

“Well, if it means anything, I always took her side. I just never told you,” Jungkook laughs.

“Traitor.”

“I’m literally your most loyal friend.”

It’s a statement that Jimin can’t counter. Jungkook is his most loyal friend. And the most supportive. And the most dependable. And definitely the one who’s never left his side. 

When Jimin casually told their group that he likes girls and boys, Jungkook was the only one who didn’t need time to “warm up to the idea.” Jungkook was also the only one who never disappeared whenever he had a girlfriend. He was also the one who never missed a single one of Jimin’s dance showcases in college and professional shows. 

And of course, Jungkook was the one friend who took up his offer to drink that Friday afternoon, resulting in that infamous gutter incident - as you like to call it - and his subsequent unemployment and homelessness. While you, his beloved sister, were there to pick up the pieces, so was Jungkook, the way he promised he would after they became friends at 10 years old. 

Those months when Jimin was heartbroken and unsure of what he was going to do with his life, his best friend was there to make sure that he wasn’t going to lose his drive and love for dancing. His best friend is also the one constantly cheering him up about this long-distance relationship that he decided to have with Taehyung while others continue to be a skeptic.

Jungkook is that friend, and Jimin supposes he can forgive the other man every time he sides with you.

Jimin is about to complain again when you put the phone down and make one of your restrained cries. He pities you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he wishes you wouldn’t be doing your work stuff while you’re on a trip of what’s supposed to be a mini-break.

“I don’t get why you don’t pick up after the first ring,” he huffs. 

“It’s so Mr. Soo knows that I’m not easily available,” you say. 

“But you are. You answer it anyway,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Exactly, I’m gonna answer it anyway. Might as well make him wait for it because he needs me,” you point out. “It’s bad enough that he’s calling while I’m taking the leave he approved, so I’m just pissing him off. He doesn’t know I changed the prompt to leave me a voice message to an annoying song so he’ll have to sit through it to get to me. I already know it’s getting on his nerves.”

“Ooh, petty. I like that,” Jimin hums. 

“I know. I got that from you,” you proudly smile.

“But why are you even working?” He whines, your brother’s tone more of pity than annoyance. “It totally defeats the purpose of a leave. And you shouldn’t be indulging him!”

“Well, Mr. Soo approved this leave thinking that Chul would help him craft this report, which is based on the project that I proposed, only to realize that he doesn’t know shit about it because I wrote everything, and he just took the credit,” you explain. “I don’t want to be doing this, too, but I also just took the chance to show who’s driving the wheel, and it’s definitely me. Plus, I worked hard for that project. Working on the report at least gives me a chance to give myself credit for it.”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right,” Jimin concedes. “Your voice is just so loud.”

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to match his tone,” you say. “But he’ll be in a meeting for the next hour or so and he probably won’t need me again until then. You can turn the music back on.”

“Ugh, thank god,” Jimin groans again. “I missed my favorite song.”

He leans forward and squeezes himself in the small space between you and Jungkook. The proximity causes Jimin to smack his elbow on your face, which you know is intended, considering how much of a brat he is. So you do what you always do - flick the back of his head. 

He yells but gets over it once he manages to press the rewind button and plays the song he’s been wanting to hear. You haven’t been paying attention throughout the drive and hadn’t even known what they were listening to, but once the music comes on, a wave of nostalgia hits you.

You take the CD case you see in the compartment and scan the song list.

“Dashboard Confessional?” You read out. “Mayday Parade? Something Corporate?”

You go through 2 other CDs and look at both men questioningly. 

“These are literally plucked out of my high school playlist that I illegally downloaded,” you state, given that music streaming sites weren’t a thing over a decade ago. “Why do you have them in CDs? And did you even know these songs back then?”

“Yes, because we listened to your playlist when you weren’t around,” Jimin confesses, earning him a flick on the arm. 

“You went through my computer? You were in my room?!” You yell.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “It was a boring room, there was nothing to see. We just wanted your music because they were cool, but I’d never admit it.”

“I’m sure,” you shake your head. “But it was my ex, remember? He was a new kid from the US and he got me into these emo rock bands and I thought they were cool, too. He downloaded them illegally for me and I just jammed to those songs all the time even after we broke up.”

“We know. Jungkook and I could hear it from my bedroom,” Jimin says, “which is why we used to sneak in and listen when you weren’t around.”

“Is that why you put them in a mixtape? So you could listen to them whenever you wanted?” You ask, turning to Jungkook because between the both of them, he’s definitely the one who’d know how to do this.

“Yeah, Kook. Why did you make these mixtapes when neither of us had a portable CD player… but my sister did?” Jimin presses, cocked eyebrow and smug face on display.

You’re looking at him now, and it’s a curious look that Jungkook can’t resist.

“I just thought to put your most played ones in CDs,” he shyly admits, “and uh, planned on giving them to you before you left for college. But I chickened out so I just left them in a box in my room that I brought to Seoul. I’d forgotten all about it until Jimin raided my studio and found them.”

“You… you made me mixtapes? When you were 15?” You ask.

“___, I think I’ve established enough that I had a huge crush on you when I was a teenager,” he turns to you and laughs. 

It’s a little embarrassing even if he’s already dating you. It still feels surreal sometimes, as he thinks of his growing up years and how he always looked forward to sleeping over at Jimin’s place and then catching glimpses of you. There were the times when you’d watch movies with them in the living room, and then he’d help you clean up in the kitchen so he could spend more time with you.

That was over 10 years ago and so much has changed, but the admiration he felt for you never dwindled. There was always that image of you looking happy. He kept that version of you in his mind, even when you had your boyfriends. He just wanted to remember your smile, and now he gets to be the reason for it, like now.

“It’s just… it’s very sweet and thoughtful,” you say softly. 

“I… Well… I took interest in the things you liked. I guess that happens when you like someone.”

“Told you he’s a romantic,” Jimin nudges you. 

Between the fairy tattoo he designed and did on your shoulder, the dinner and picnic dates he takes you to despite both your busy schedules, and the way he holds you so close to him whenever and wherever he can, you can definitely say that Jungkook is a romantic.

It’s only been three months but it feels as if you’ve been dating him for longer, given the overflow of affection he’s been giving you. It’s in the way he always holds your hand and kisses you so passionately. It’s in his encouraging words and the way he spoils you with the littlest things. 

It’s refreshing to be with him. He has boyish charms that have become even sexier with his slightly long hair and the lip ring that he recently got. And whatever he’s wearing, there’s just something so comfortably sexy about him that’s both warm and exciting, and you often find yourself swarmed in butterflies whenever he talks about you.

It’s only been three months but it’s a relationship you’re still slowly being open about. Your friends were definitely surprised. Hoseok fell off the couch with all his body movements; Jin spat out his drink; Yoongi gasped, then followed it up with a teasing smirk; So-Hee and Na-eun gushed over how Jungkook treats you, and took the chance to say how he’s gotten more handsome over the years. 

You asked them if it was that shocking for you to be dating someone younger - and your brother’s best friend at that - and while they said it was a bit unexpected, what really got them was how different Jungkook is from your exes. He’s not some corporate man with ambitions, they pointed out. His life is less structured, too, given his freelancing career and gig at the tattoo parlor. He’s definitely a lot more laid-back and more casual than they’re used to. 

They were short of remarking that Jungkook’s lifestyle isn’t as stable and secure as what you normally go for, and they wouldn’t be wrong. It’s a thought you’ve had before, and something even he brought up because he didn’t want you thinking that he can’t keep up with you. But you’d been the one to point out to your friends that stability can come in different forms. With how Jungkook has been so dependable and assuring, that’s given you more security than you ever thought. 

But it’s not something that’s easy to explain. Maybe your friends could understand. They’ve made careers in different industries, after all, with short term jobs forming part of their resume. But your parents are of a different generation and mindset. Stability for them means one thing, and they raised you to want the same thing in the same way. 

Which is why it’s already been three months, and you still haven’t told them about you and Jungkook. 

“I started young,” he laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he takes your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. “I used to just choose my moments of romance but with you, I’m romantic all the time.”

“Really? Does being a flirt count as being romantic?” You cock an eyebrow.

Because that’s what he is. He likes to tease and call you out when he affects you. He likes to charm and then edge you until you’re pleading for him to do more. 

“Definitely! I mean, I’m out here living my teenage dream, you know?” He winks at you. “Not just anyone gets to say that they’re dating the person they had a crush on when they were 13.”

“Oh god, here we go again,” Jimin groans, earning him a laugh from you and Jungkook.

But even if your brother fake-gags at your not-so private displays of affection, you know deep down that he’s happy for you and his best friend. The two most important people in his life found comfort in each other, and he gets to witness and bask in that. 

He also gets to brag that it all happened because of him. 

You spend the next hour jamming to all your favorite emo rock songs because Jungkook wasn’t kidding - he really did include all of the ones you had on repeat from your playlist. It takes you back to over 10 years ago of playing the music so loud while you’re in your pajamas, jumping on your bed and singing your lungs out. They don’t really remind you of your ex-boyfriend. That was a short-lived relationship that only really had you appreciating the songs he shared and not much more. 

Your boss doesn’t reach out to you until a half hour later. He’s taken to sending you messages instead, and when he does, you’re back to typing away on your laptop, to the displeasure of both men. 

They don’t call you out this time and instead leave you be. Until, of course, it hinders you from enjoying yourself.

The car has stopped but you’re still on your laptop, double checking figures. Jimin has stepped out after telling you that he’ll throw your laptop in the ocean if you don’t stop, but Jungkook stays with you inside the car. He bops his head and hums to the music that neither of you could barely hear. He picks on his fingers and yelps at the hangnail he pulls out. He opens the window and shoos away a bug, then hangs out his head to feel the late morning sun.

“Kook, you can go out if you’re bored,” you say, your eyes still glued to your screen. “You don’t have to stay with me here.”

“But I want to,” he responds. “I’m not leaving until you do, not when you said we’re spending the week free from work and stress.”

“I just need to get this done,” you sigh, rechecking your stats for the third time and then aligning the table. “I’ll be finished soon.”

“You said that 15 minutes ago,” he points out, not wanting to sound like he’s complaining, although he might as well be. 

“It’s just—”

“You’ve done your part, babe. You’ve encoded the figures and cross-checked the targets and objectives. Writing the rest of that report and formatting it isn’t your job anymore,” Jungkook says. “You weren’t even supposed to do those. You’re not on the clock. You’re on leave, and you deserve this break.”

“I hate that I have to work, too, but it’s not something I just can’t do, not when my boss is calling and expecting me to do all this,” you groan. 

You see his eyebrows furrow and you get defensive. 

“You know what, nevermind. You work solo, you answer to no one, you don’t have to prove yourself to corporate assholes. You won’t get it.”

You sigh once more and return to reviewing the conclusion, but the sudden silence is unnerving. You glance at Jungkook and see the look on his face - it’s not sadness but disappointment, and it’s one you don’t see very often on him.

You’re about to apologize when he speaks, his voice soft and low, as if speaking is difficult for him.

“I work with so many clients on a daily basis, with more than half of them setting deadlines that they don’t even follow and demanding so many things so yes, I get it,” he says. “But I put my foot down when I need to, because I learned a long time ago that I shouldn’t let people walk all over me. I know you’re up against a lot of things and you may feel like your hands are tied but they aren’t. A break won’t hurt you. And you know you deserve it. We deserve your attention, too.”

Your heart cracks at his words. Even more at the way he looks, as you see that all he wants is to spend time with you. He’s been busy, too. He’s spent the last few nights at his studio, buried deep in his projects because he said he wanted to focus on you this week. And you know that he’ll keep his word like he always does. Jungkook is dedicated to his work but he focuses on you when he says he will. You’re the one not loyal to what you say.

“Kook, I’m—”

“Just do what you have to do,” he interjects, his eyes downcast now. “I’ll be outside with Jimin. Come out when you’re done. You like it here, so don’t worry. We won’t leave until you’ve come down.”

Jungkook exits the car before you can say anything. You watch him walk down the stony path towards the ocean.

You hadn’t even realized you’re here. 

You’re at Cheongsapo, with the pebble beach just meters away being one you all went to as kids. Jungkook’s older brother used to drive you here during summer, and you all enjoyed the calmness of the place. You used to bet on who would treat ice cream by playing rounds of stone skipping, with Jimin winning every single time. You remember how you and Jungkook taught each other how to do it, and then tag-teamed against your brother so he could finally treat you both that one time. 

Whenever you’d visit Busan during your college breaks, you’d always come down here with your friends, with Jungkook and Jimin in tow. You’d visit at sunset and hold out your sparklers, then navigate the terrain at night and laugh about who tripped and slipped on the way back. 

Jungkook’s right. You like this place. It holds so many memories of your youth, and you find yourself constantly reminiscing, as you try to recall his place in your life back then. 

You mentally smack yourself. He didn’t deserve your dismissal. He didn’t deserve the way you spoke to him. He’s been trying to help, especially with how busy you’ve been these past several weeks. You were supposed to work from home while you housesat your parents’ house but Jimin convinced you to take your untouched leaves when Jungkook decided to come, and then they both called it a mini-break.

And maybe you need it, considering that all this preoccupation with work has caused you to snap at your boyfriend when all he wanted to do was ease your mind.

So you get out of the car and head to him. 

There’s a small forest to pass through and a steep staircase to maneuver, but you manage. You look out to see Jimin already throwing stones and Jungkook standing by, reacting to every gliding pebble on the water. You spare a few seconds to admire him from the back, with his plain white shirt and light gray lounge pants, accentuating a figure that has you weak in the knees. His hands are in his pockets and his slightly long locks are in a half-bun, and he looks every bit of comfort in this place that holds so much of your years growing up.

You walk to where he is and wrap your arms around him from behind. He stills but he doesn’t say anything. You savor his natural scent and the way the tips of his hair tickle your face. You bask in the taut figure that somehow softens under your touch. Once you feel him relax a little, you tilt your head and whisper in his ear. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

He remains quiet and unmoving. All you can hear are the sounds of the waves and Jimin’s cheering from some meters away.

“I just got caught up with work but I’m done with it. It wasn’t right of me to neglect you when I promised I was gonna take a break and spend time with you,” you continue.

Your voice is low and Jungkook could hear your pout. Just a little bit more and he’ll give in.

“You look so hot today and I just want to—”

“Yah!” He whines, finally returning your affection and caressing your arms that are now wrapped around him tightly. “Don’t tease me.”

“Hmm, that caught your attention, huh?” You giggle, lightly kissing his neck.

He shivers at the act, and he laughs at himself for how whipped he is for you, giving in so quickly.

“You know it would,” he huffs, turning around to face you now.

You still have that pout and he just wants to kiss it off you.

“How was walking down the steep staircase?” He asks, knowing that was your only non-favorite thing about this place. 

“I tripped on a step but I’m fine,” you proudly smile now. 

“You should’ve called me,” he frowns now. 

“But you were upset with me!”

“So? Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t help you down the stairs and risk you tripping. You know how those steps are. And the pebbles can sometimes be slippery. You can trip here, too, and— what?”

“Nothing. You’re sexy when you’re worried about me,” you say nonchalantly.

“Ugh, come here,” he groans, pulling you in a hug, one that you fall into immediately. “I’ll always worry about you. And I’ll always help you, even if I’m upset.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m sorry again. But I’ve laid off the report now. I told Mr. Soo I shall not be disturbed anymore for the rest of my leave.”

“Good,” Jungkook hums, pulling away to face you now. “Because I really want to know what you wanted to do.”

“Ah, many things, Jeon Jungkook,” you smirk. “But I’ll maybe settle for this first.”

You lean in and kiss him - deep enough to have him moan against your lips, and you suddenly can’t wait until you can do more.

“Oh, my eyes!” Jimin squeals, prompting you to look at him with his arm covering his face.

Jungkook only laughs but you scowl at your brother.

“You’re so dramatic,” you roll your eyes. “You’ve seen worse.”

“And I’ve erased that image of my sister and my best friend swallowing each other’s faces from my mind. Please don’t remind me again,” he groans. “But anyway, are you tolerable again?”

“Yes,” you frown. “I think,” you mutter, turning to Jungkook.

“You’re alright,” he teases, before he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. “Now Jimin here wants to reassert his dominance as the stone-skipping king. You game for a match?”

“Do I have a choice?” You cock your eyebrow.

“No. So okay, same rules,” your brother announces. “Loser treats everyone to coffee and pastry. We all know it won’t be me.”

“Brat,” you say under your breath. 

But he’s not wrong. He dominates and Jungkook ends up losing. The wink he makes tells you he let you win. And though you like to play fair, you won’t lie and say his teasing smirk definitely turned you on.

You spend the rest of your morning enjoying iced coffee while overlooking the beach, then you head to your favorite seafood restaurant for lunch. You go to your usual market for ingredients for the week, including tonight’s dinner that your mother will be preparing. She wanted to cook for all of you before they flew out, she said, and that got you excited. 

It’s refreshing to walk through the streets and spots of your childhood and reminisce with your brother and boyfriend. The memories take on different forms this time, as Jungkook tells you things from his perspective. 

You remember that one time you scolded them for sneaking out on a school night and then picking them up at an alley with Jin driving you. Jungkook says he liked how caring and understanding you were then; you said you’d cover for them after flicking their foreheads. 

There’s that summer when you got your friends to buy from Jimin and Jungkook’s ice pop stand so they could buy these skateboards that neither of your parents wanted to get for them. Jungkook recalls how you complimented his recipe and told everyone he made them so that they’d praise him, too. 

There’s that winter when, after your brother’s begging, you had him and Jungkook join you and your friends’ bonfire night at one of your secret beach spots. Jungkook points out that you always made sure that as the youngest ones there, they were warm and well-fed. 

And then there were their sleepovers when you’d join them play video games and watch horror movies in the living room. Jungkook gushes at how pretty you looked and how you’d always prepare them popcorn and drinks. He outs you as the one who puts the blanket over him and Jimin when they fall asleep on the couch. 

“I tend to forget a lot of things but I remember when they’re about you,” he mumbles as he starts the drive to your house. “It’s just always stuck with me. Please don’t be weirded out.”

You giggle but assure him that you aren’t. You understand him - there are things and people and moments that naturally stick with you, and they’re the ones you hold dear, too. 

He was a kid with a crush and his attention was often on you, and you suppose that given how you’d felt comfortable around him then, it was also maybe natural that you’d feel the same way now that you’re both older. It just so happened that he ended up looking as attractive as he did, and that’s just an added bonus. 

Jungkook drops you and Jimin home before he drives three blocks away to his parents’ house. He’ll greet them first before heading to your place, he says, excited for your mom’s cooking that he always enjoyed. 

It’s been some time since you last saw them. They don’t always drive out to Seoul, only doing so to watch Jimin’s shows, and you haven’t had time to go home, either. Plus, you had an injured brother to take care of, and he’s also really the topic of every conversation you’ve had with them these past months. 

And there are no bad feelings there. He’s had injuries and illnesses that had them worried, and you’re pretty much as unproblematic and predictable as any eldest child could get. You think you’re that monotonous or unexciting, too, and you suppose that just meant they didn’t feel the need to check on you as much as they did with Jimin.

But you express your longing once they offer you their hugs. You say how you miss your mom’s cooking and your dad’s baking, which is code for saying that you’ve missed them, too. 

You get your stuff to your room and sigh in relief at the comfort it still gives you. Not much has changed between your double bed, your desk, your beanbag, and the large cork board of photos on your wall. You pin the Polaroids from earlier, deciding to keep the ones of you and Jungkook for your place back in Seoul. 

You huff this time, unsure how you’ll open the discussion of you dating your younger brother’s best friend to your parents. They’ve known him since he was a kid; they watched him get into all kinds of trouble with their son, and were there for his milestones, too. 

Jungkook was always Jimin’s partner-in-crime; they were two peas in a pod who went through everything together. Now it’s you and him and you don’t really know how they’ll take it. 

But you brush it off for now and think it’s a conversation for later, or maybe when they come back from their trip. You intended on telling them in person, which is why they’re still in the dark. It’s just a matter of how you’ll say it.

You head downstairs and take in the scent of seafood soft tofu stew. The two boys are already at the kitchen counter, munching on the rolled omelet that they shouldn’t even be having yet. But your mom lets them, as Jimin talks about his new agency and shows videos of him doing some choreographies.

You stand next to Jungkook, who sneakily feeds you. You don’t know why you get flustered at the act, even more when he whispers in your ear. 

“So, I finally get to see your room with your permission,” he cheekily smiles. “I promised Jimin a few rounds of Overwatch before going to you.”

You merely laugh and tell him that your dad’s asking him something.

“So, Jungkook. How has work been? Jimin tells us you’ve been getting more projects recently,” your old man asks. 

“Ah, yes, uncle,” he responds. “I’m getting more clients and exposure now. It took a while but it’s all going well.”

“That’s good. Although I always wondered why you never thought of joining a firm. Doesn’t that mean a more consistent client base? And better for you financially, too.”

“Well, I get to choose my clients and my projects as a freelancer,” Jungkook explains. “I control my time. And it allows me to take appointments at the tattoo parlor.”

“Oh, right, your hobby,” your dad nods. “I guess having multiple sources of income is the new trend these days.”

Jungkook just hums in agreement, already used to your dad’s frame of thought when it comes to a career. So are you, because it’s often the first thing he picks up on with your boyfriends. Each of your partners just happened to be working in corporate so there was never this line of questioning followed by an awkward silence. 

But Jungkook is just your brother’s best friend, as far as they know. You wonder how they’d react once you finally tell them the truth.

You don’t completely fault your dad, though. It’s less about judgment and more about practicality. He and your mom came from the generation that believed survival and security mattered more than passion. They always thought the latter could come later on in life, which is why they opened their own cafe not long ago, at a time when they were already pretty secure. You suppose it’s his way of looking out for you, which is why he’s always been concerned about your partner’s occupation.

The conversation changes, as the focus now turns to your parents and what they’ve been up to. You assist your mom in the kitchen while the men hang around, helping when they’re called upon. Jungkook stands near you, asking if you need him and attempting to feed you with a dumpling this time, but you manage to feed yourself and he merely looks at you in understanding.

Dinner is finally ready and you all head to the dining table. You take the seat next to your mom, across from Jungkook, and he looks at you curiously but you offer him an apologetic smile. You only told him that you’ll tell your parents about your relationship in person, which you planned on doing. 

That is, until your parents bring up your friends.

“Sweetie, Jin’s son is so adorable,” your mom chirps. “I saw the pictures on Facebook and the little one took after his father so much. I can imagine how happy he and his wife are.”

The topic of your dear friend and his family injects energy into you. You say how Jin’s been bragging about his mini-me but that the nursery you helped put together looks so beautiful. You were all there when his wife gave birth a few weeks ago and though you’re still unsure about having kids, you won’t deny how much it warmed your heart when Seo-yoon’s tiny fingers wrapped around your thumb. It’s not something you say though, as your mom eventually mentions Na-eun and her fiancé. 

“I read that he’s been promoted as Director of their company,” she says. 

Your dad pipes in that So-Hee’s new boyfriend is apparently the son of one of his former colleagues, and you’re quite frankly over the conversations about your friends’ partners. The insinuations aren’t lost on you.

“How do you even know these things?” You groan.

“Facebook,” your mom replies. “Of course I’m friends with all your friends. And it’s nice to know how well they’re doing since we don’t get to see them much anymore. You’ve reached that age of settling down, after all.”

“I guess,” you hum, no longer interested in the conversation. Jimin’s roll of his eyes tells you he feels the same. “Lots of good things are happening for them.”

You don’t mean to sound bitter and you aren’t. You adore your friends and genuinely love that things are looking out for them. You’re not the same person from months ago who felt lost and falling behind amongst them. Sure, things could be better career-wise, but you haven’t felt this much security in yourself and your relationship until Jungkook. Explaining why is a different thing altogether.

“What about you?” Your dad asks. “I know we’ve been calling every week to ask about your brother but we haven’t been checking in on you. I’m sorry, dear,” he continues, his eyes softening. “Is there anything new in your life?”

If the earlier conversations hadn’t happened, perhaps you’d willingly hint on the newest thing in your life, which is the relationship you have with the man currently looking at you with his doe-eyes in anticipation. 

But they did, and you know mentioning your friends’ partners was their way of subtly pressuring you about being with someone of similar stature. And you’re not really in the mood for that right now. 

So you end up doing the stupidest thing you possibly could, and that’s to lie. 

“Not really,” you say, hating the prolonged silence that follows. 

And as you look at Jungkook across from you, you see his face fall, and you hate even more that it’s because of you. 

Your lack of a follow-up prompts your parents to move on. They know that when you’re in the mood to talk, you will and when you’re quite passive, it means you aren’t. 

Your mom turns to Jungkook instead and asks him what else he’s up to other than his various jobs and looking after Jimin. He looks at you before his gaze shifts towards them.

“Not much else, auntie,” he replies. 

The crack of your heart knows you completely messed up, because if it stings like this, then you know it hurt him even more.

“Oh, is there no one special in your life?” She asks, as she often does. Given that she treats Jungkook as part of the family, she’s lost all filter when it comes to him, too. “I recently met with my friend and her daughter. She’s such a lovely young woman, Kook, she’s brilliant and oh so charming. She’s in Busan for the week, too. Do you want to—”

“Is it time for dessert?” Jimin butts in, not wanting this conversation to continue. 

He knows Jungkook wouldn’t know how to turn your mother down, and if he even slightly entertains the idea to appease her, you’d be the one upset, even if you technically put this upon yourself. Jimin already sees you a bit uncomfortable, and if there’s anything he can do to not make this worse for you and his best friend, it’s to be a brat. 

“Oh, yes. Your father made an apple pie and some ice cream,” she says. “Let me—”

“I’ll get it,” you offer, standing up from your seat now.

You don’t want to know what your mom’s other propositions would be. You’re sure she’ll find some person’s son to match you with, given that she’s done that a few times after your breakup with Namjoon. You’re also not ready for Jungkook to agree with her about meeting someone, even if you know he won’t mean it.

Which is really stupid because if you’d just told them the truth, then you’ll be having a completely different conversation, although you’re unsure if you’re ready for that one, too. But at least Jungkook wouldn’t look as upset as he does right now, as he’s resorted to picking on his food instead of finishing it, which tells you that he’s lost his appetite and that’s never a good thing. 

You go to the kitchen to slice the pie and scoop the ice cream. You do it so slowly to lengthen the time before you’re back there, only because you don’t want to know what else they’re talking about. 

You’re in the middle of cursing yourself when you feel the sting of a tiny pinch on your arm, and you yelp in pain and smack your brother’s chest in reflex.

“Ow!” You yell, frowning at the man before you and ignoring your mother’s order to “behave,” even if they’re used to you two quarreling. 

“You deserve that,” Jimin scowls at you. “Because what the fuck was that?!”

“I know,” you sigh, glancing at Jungkook who’s trying his best to be interested in what your parents are saying. “I… froze. You know what they wanted to hear, Chim. All those things about my friends’ boyfriends and what they do? I just didn’t want them to compare them to what Jungkook does if I tell them.”

“Why, what’s wrong with what he does?” Your brother raises an eyebrow.

“Nothing. It’s just… you know how focused they are on career stability and shit like that,” you try to explain. “You heard what dad was telling him earlier. I just didn’t want Jungkook to hear any underhanded comments from them and then feel bad about it.”

“And you think denying that you’re dating is any better?” He chides. “That’s literally worse!”

“I—”

“Jungkook knows how our parents are. And after you got together, he already anticipated that they’d question how he’ll be able to sustain your life together once you told them about your relationship,” Jimin explains. “He was ready for it. I doubt he anticipated this…”

You stand there, the crack in your heart getting deeper and bigger as the seconds pass. You hadn’t realized that Jungkook was already confiding in Jimin about any concerns he’d have about facing your parents. You suppose he would, given that you said you’d tell them when you saw them the one time that Jungkook asked if they knew, and you didn’t raise it again after. Living in your bubble together seemed more important, and you’d forgotten to mentally prepare yourself for this conversation.

“Chim, I fucked up,” you pout. 

If it were about anything else, Jimin would push it. It’s how you always were, and you’ve reached that point  in your relationship where you could call each other out and know it comes from a good place. But he doesn’t want to do this today, not when you’re already sad and guilty and he doesn’t want you to feel worse. He doesn’t want to take sides, even if he’ll admit that you were in the wrong, but he doesn’t want to antagonize you either.

“Hey,” he nudges your arm. “It’s not the end of the world. You’re both gonna figure it out. I don’t know how hard he’ll take this but he’s a really soft-hearted person, so just… keep that in mind, okay?”

You nod, wanting to believe that you’ll be able to fix it. 

“And don’t hate yourself too much,” your brother adds. “He’s really, really into you. I just know he won’t be able to resist you.”

You nod again but you think that just makes it worse. You doubt he expected that out of all the people to disappoint him, it would be you. Yet here you are. 

You and Jimin return to the table with the plated desserts. You hand one to Jungkook but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He doesn’t meet your eyes either when it’s all you try to do. He peacefully eats his apple pie while you feign interest at your parents talking about their recent weekend at a spa. 

When everyone’s done, he helps Jimin clean up. It’s how you know that Jungkook’s considered part of the family, as your parents don’t stop him from doing so, unlike when it comes to other guests or your friends. 

You watch helplessly as he washes the dishes, turning down your offer to help. You take the rest of the plates and walk towards him instead, standing close so you could place them in the sink. He just moves his arms to give you space then returns to his task, not sparing you a glance. 

You stay with your parents in the dining area to talk about their trip. They leave you with important documents and give you instructions should anything bad happen to them while they’re away, as they always do whenever they go on a trip. Everything is your responsibility as the eldest, they remind you. 

They finally go to their room to continue packing and you sit on the corner of the couch where Jimin and Jungkook have just finished watching some video of a guy reacting to other videos. You constantly glance at your boyfriend but he seems to be intent on not giving you attention because he’s not like this - he always wants to be close to you, needing his hand to be touching your arm or your thigh or even your hair, and his pretty eyes locked on you. But not tonight.

You recall how months ago, you avoided him because of what you started to feel. And perhaps this is how he felt then - helpless, unsure, and desperate for you to be next to him again. 

You find the tiniest bit of courage and call out his name, hoping he’d at least turn to you this time. 

“Kook, I’m—”

“Hey, we should probably play now so we finish early,” Jungkook nudges Jimin’s knee. “It’s been a long day; I don’t really want to stay up late.”

Your brother looks at you in apology as he responds to the man on his left in agreement. They both head up, leaving you rooted in your seat, wishing that Jungkook would turn around to tell you that he doesn’t mean creating this distance, but he doesn’t. 

And you wouldn’t blame him. You’d stay away from you, too.

You end up watching Aliens on your own, crouched on your corner of the couch with the large blanket over you. You give up after an hour, once the movie starts getting intense and scary though. There’s no Jungkook to hold you during the jumpscares, or to tease you about your screaming, or to assure you that he’ll protect you from all types of monsters. 

There’s no Jungkook next to you but you want him there, and it’s another half hour later when you decide that you’re not going to bed without speaking to him. 

You hate sleeping sad and upset. You don’t like ending the day not being on good terms with him. There are so many things you want to tell him but more than anything, you just want to hold him close. He always said he liked that, because even during the times when there’s so much to say or feel, falling into each other’s arms is the easiest thing to do. It says enough. It shows enough. And you’ve both survived misunderstandings and stressful moments by holding each other, and then holding each other closer.

Walking up the stairs and towards Jimin’s room, the nerves kick in. Jungkook has been ignoring you the whole evening and you’re unsure if he’s willing to hear you out. 

But you try, as you knock on the door, your heart beating fast when it slowly opens. Your brother’s downcast eyes meet you and you don’t need to say anything else. 

He opens the door wider then turns to the man lying on a mattress on the floor.

“Kook, my sister’s looking for you.”

You glance at him, dressed in that black tank top that always made you breathless, but once again, he avoids your gaze. But he does stand up after a nudge on the foot from your brother and walks over to you.

“Can we, uh…” you gesture towards the room just across the hallway.

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t shut you out, which is a good thing. You take it as your cue to start walking and you hear his footsteps right behind you. 

You let him in then close the door behind him. There’s so much you want to say, like you’re sorry and that you were stupid, that you didn’t mean to deny him but that you didn’t know how to tell your parents, or what you were even nervous about. You want to say that you just want to spend tonight wrapped up in his arms and apologizing in all the ways that you can.

But instead of uttering the words, your throat dries up. Seeing him standing there with that upset and disinterested look on his face breaks you a little. So you reach out, your hands pressing gently on his chest to try to feel him, to be close to him, hopefully to hold him and make your mistake go away. 

“Kook, I…” you tremble, trying so hard to find the words.

Jungkook looks back at you, your face nervous and unsure, unlike his that’s probably still painted with disappointment. 

He still doesn’t know what to make of your denial. He’s been trying to see things from your point of view all evening, but doing so only in his head because verbalizing them, especially to his best friend, makes it sting a bit more. Maybe Jimin can explain on your behalf but that would just confirm to Jungkook one of two things - that you don’t really intend on telling your parents about both of you for whatever reason he can’t comprehend, or you don’t think he measures up to their expectations and for that, you might just think he’s not good enough for you. 

He doesn’t think he’s ready for that, so he shuts Jimin down when he asks. They watched videos earlier to have something to laugh about but he was faking it. He suggested playing a game just so he wouldn’t respond to you calling him earlier but all they’ve done since going to the room is lie in silence. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to talk about it with his best friend. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about it with you. He doesn’t want an explanation right now. It’s not what he wants to hear. 

And it seems as if it’s something you’re even struggling to give him, as you stand there quivering, your hands slowly trying to pull him closer to you. 

It’s what you usually do when you can’t find the words to express something - when you’re stressed and frustrated, when you want to patch things up after a small misunderstanding, when you want his comfort. And he always loved it when you did. He always willingly gave you that hug and that kiss and those whispers of “it’s okay” and “we’re okay” and “I’m just here.” 

But not tonight, not when there’s this unnamed thing that’s eating him inside, and not even you can fix it. 

“I don’t… I don’t really wanna do this right now,” he mutters, taking your hands to slowly slide them off him. 

The look of hurt in your eyes is one that’ll probably haunt him for a while, but he’ll learn to deal with that. It’s better than talking with you about something that you don’t even know how to express. 

This isn’t like him. It’s not like him to be upset at you like this, to not want to comfort you, to not want to be around you. This messes him up, too, and all he can do is step away and walk out.

He doesn’t really wanna be here, he thinks to himself as he enters the room just across, to the surprise of Jimin who half expected both of you to have made up. Jungkook would go home if he only brought his keys and it wasn’t too late to ask his parents to open the door for him.

But his best friend’s floor mattress will do for now. And so Jungkook puts on his earpods and plays whatever music is loud enough to shut out the thought of you until he falls asleep. 

In the other room, you lay in your bed in complete silence. You don’t want to cry, only because he’s not there to wipe your tears away. And you don’t ever want to know what that’s like, so you don’t. You keep the tears at bay and force yourself to drift away. 

You jerk awake the next morning to your mother knocking on your door. You promised to do errands with her today, so you get off the bed and yell out that you’ll just fix up.

“No rush, dear. I’m still having breakfast with your father. You can join us when you’re ready.”

You head down and eat the pastries that they brought from the cafe. You don’t have much appetite and these will suffice, but your mind goes to Jungkook and how he was craving kimchi fried rice and spam yesterday. 

So that’s what you make for him and Jimin. You even prepare iced coffee the way they like it. You’re about to set the dish aside for them to heat up when you hear rushed footsteps down the stairs and you know they’ve woken up.

“Wahhh, it smells so good,” Jimin exclaims as he walks over to the counter while his best friend sits on the table. “Did you make something, dad?”

“Oh, your sister cooked for you and Jungkook,” your father hums. “It’s making me hungry now.”

“There’s still some in here if you want,” you call out, with him responding that he’ll get some later.

You serve the dish in two bowls. You hand one to Jimin and then place the other in front of Jungkook without sparing him a glance. 

“Iced coffee is in the refrigerator,” you tell them. 

You hear Jimin’s little squeal before he gets them. “Where you off to?” He asks.

“I’m running errands with mom.”

“Make sure you two make it in time for dinner, okay?” Your father says.

“Of course. I can’t miss your steak, dad,” you give him a small smile. 

“Good. I prepared meat good enough for five Actually, six. I count Jungkook as two people,” he laughs. 

The thought of this comfort and familiarity hurts you because you’re the one who made Jungkook think otherwise. You see him smile at your father’s remark but you turn away when he looks your way. You know he’s still upset and you don’t want to force it if he’s not yet ready to speak with you. You also haven’t gotten over the way he pulled away from you last night, and so looking at him today is a little difficult.

“You’re still joining us at the party, right?” Jimin asks. 

Their friend, Hari, whom you know briefly dated Jungkook in high school, is celebrating her birthday tonight. Their group always looked to you as the cool sister so you’re always invited to whatever they’ve got going, and while the three of you talked about attending later, after what you did, you doubt Jungkook would want you to spoil his evening. You’re also not exactly in the partying mood for obvious reasons.

“I’ll pass, Chim,” you respond. “You guys should have a best friend night.”

You go back to your room to fix up before joining your mother to head out. 

Back in the dining room, Jimin nudges Jungkook’s knee.

“She’s still playing favorites,” he playfully rolls his eyes as he gestures to the generous amount of spam in his best friend’s bowl compared to his decent serving. 

Jungkook just hums, guilt forming that he didn’t even thank you for this because he really has been craving it. Before any of them could say anything more, your father speaks up.

“Your sister okay, son?”

“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t she be?” Jimin nervously answers.

“She just doesn’t seem like herself, that’s all,” your old man replies.

“Maybe it’s work. It’s been tough lately,” your brother reasons. 

“But she’s more tired and frustrated when it comes to work but that’s not what she is. Maybe it’s a guy.”

At this, Jungkook chokes on his food, and he’s glad your father doesn’t react.

“What makes you think so?” Jimin asks, his eyes flitting to his best friend.

“Hmm, it just seems different,” your father insists. “Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my end. She hasn’t introduced anyone since Namjoon. And I wish she would, just so we know she’s moved on, you know? And that the breakup isn’t still hurting her.”

“She has, and it doesn’t affect her anymore,” Jimin confirms, certain of at least that bit.

“Then why hasn’t she introduced anyone yet?”

“Maybe it’s because you really liked Namjoon, and he seems to be your standard so ___ is just probably just taking her time.”

“Well it’s because he’s smart and stable and very self-assured and—”

“Also very much married. And a soon-to-be father,” Jimin interjects, already being protective of you. 

He wonders now if this is how your parents talk about him to you, and that you’ve always just protected him from all of it.

“Oh,” your father sighs. “It could’ve been her.”

“But it isn’t and that’s totally fine,” Jimin exclaims. “She’s young and she’s got time. And who knows, maybe that’s not the life she wants, or at least not yet? If you could accept my version of happiness, you should be able to accept hers, too. And what does ‘stable’ even mean?”

“Someone with ambition, with a direction,” your old man explains. “Someone who’s secure and financially capable of sustaining this good life that your mom and I gave you both.”

“Those are all the things she is, too, you know?” Jimin frowns. “And also, I love you, dad, but you’re old. By that I mean your thinking is old. It’s outdated. You think stability is about prestige and money and I get that but… that’s not everything. There are other things that matter to her and if you lessened the pressure a bit, you’d see that. She’s your daughter, don’t you want her to be happy? To be loved?”

“Of course I do,” your father sighs. 

“Well then don’t let your version of what a good partner is dictate her life,” Jimin advises. “She’s a grown up, she knows what she wants and how to get it. But she’s also your daughter who doesn’t want to worry or disappoint you. What if she’s found someone who makes her happy and treats her right but she’s nervous of what you’d think because of all these expectations you have of her?”

Jimin’s eyes flit to his best friend again who’s quietly munching on his food but is clearly taking in this exchange. While Jimin still thinks you were wrong to deny your relationship, he at least hopes that Jungkook could understand what was going through your mind and it was all this. 

“Well if she has then I’d want to meet him,” your father insists. 

“And maybe you will, once she stops feeling the pressure of what she’s supposed to be for you and who she’s supposed to date,” Jimin explains. 

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, dad,” Jimin groans. “I lived with her for months and she just… she worries about a lot of things. It would be nice if she doesn’t worry about this. So please, stop with all the projections and underhanded remarks, okay? She sees right through you. Just let her live her life.”

A smile forms on your father’s face. It was never his intention to put all that pressure on you but he supposes you just accepted that it comes with the territory. But he realizes it shouldn’t be. His son’s right - he’s old. He and your mother worked hard so that you and your brother could have a life where you didn’t have to worry about anything, but he supposes the intention got muddled along the way. At least you and Jimin have each other.

“I know you and your sister don’t like to admit it but it’s really touching to see how similar you both are,” your father says.

“Excuse me, I’m cooler and funnier and definitely more talented,” Jimin pouts. 

“Maybe,” your old man laughs. “But she’s sat on that same chair, lecturing me and your mom about letting you live your life and now you’re doing the same. She’s your biggest advocate and your biggest protector. It’s just nice to see how you’re the same for her.”

Running errands with your mother has always been your responsibility, but it’s once you’ve hit your late-twenties mark that you’ve come to appreciate it. 

You learn a lot about the practical stuff like insurance and emergency funds and inheritance when you accompany her to the bank. You’re also reminded that sometimes you have to spend more to make things last when she drops off her clothes at the laundry service and picks up the bag and shoes she had professionally cleaned. You also remember the important things like buying flowers and leaving them on your grandparents’ graves. 

You’ve just left the shopping center after she bought your father an anniversary gift, and her excitement over the satchel and perfume she got him has you smiling. You wonder how differently she feels for him 30 years later, and if this life they have together is everything she imagined it to be.

“Was it hard at the beginning? Being married to dad?” You ask. 

“Of course, dear,” she answers. “Because it’s how marriages typically go. Your father and I were together for two years before we got married and it was a big change. You just… learn to consider another person, and you get used to someone always being around you.”

“It’s a good thing you can stand each other then,” you chuckle. 

“That’s true,” she laughs back. “You’d be surprised to know how many married couples can’t. But we just always managed. And we had to be on each other’s side, you know? It’s the reason why we’ve lasted as long as we have.”

She looks quite emotional as she says the words and it’s probably because of what they’ll be celebrating soon but she turns to you with a smile.

“Your father’s parents wanted me to become a housewife, a stay-at-home mom who just ran the household,” she continues. “But I wanted to work so I could help my parents, and your father stood by my decision. He saw how working gave him financial freedom and he wanted that for me, too. And we just… worked hard. We fought a lot at the start because we were building our careers and raising a family but we knew it would all be worth it, as long as we stood by each other.”

“Then I suppose that’s what’s important in a partner, isn’t it?” You say. “Being dependable, being supportive, not… not what kind of career they have.”

“Well, a stable career helps,” she points out. “I mean, it’s how your father and I got to afford sending you and your brother to good schools. It’s how we could afford trips as a family and how your father and I can be secure at this age without needing much help from our children.”

“But that’s also because you worked hard, plain and simple. And you and dad had each other and overcame whatever challenges you faced together. You can’t say the same for all married couples,” you push. 

“That’s true. I mean, it wasn’t like this during our parents’ time. I guess people had less options then. The world’s changed so much, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” you hum. “Not everyone cares much about their partner’s upward mobility and stuff like that. They want to savor the good life their parents gave them. And because they work hard, too, they just want someone to enjoy it with them. You know, like me.”

There’s a beat of silence as your mother processes your words. 

“Is that why it didn’t work out with Namjoon?” She asks, reminding you that you’d only given them a general reason as to why things ended.

“We spent too much time planning for our future that we kinda lost our way,” you explain. “I guess that’s when I realized that I wanted someone to enjoy the moments with, regardless of what they do for a living. And we’ll never know what life will throw our way and I need someone who’ll stand by me, the way I’ll stand by them. You know, cheesy things like that.”

You smile to yourself as you think about Jungkook and his shameless affection that he shows in so many ways. You enjoy the cheesiness but you’ll deny it first before admitting it. But then again, he probably knows already. He pays attention to you after all. 

“Well, I suppose that’s why we wanted to give you and your brother a good and secure life, so that you can enjoy it,” your mother hums.

“Exactly. You raised us well, mom. We’re not gonna throw our lives away, however we choose to live it, and with whom,” you assure her. 

She gives you a warm smile. She takes your hand at the stoplight and caresses it. Perhaps it’s the assurance you need, too.

You return home to your father preparing the meat for tonight’s dinner. There’s a platter of steak, vegetables, and sausages that he’s seasoning to grill, and you can imagine how happy this is gonna make Jungkook. He always liked it when your dad prepared dishes like this paired with your mom’s spicy chicken soup, and you wish you could enjoy it together. 

But you’re giving him space to feel what he feels and you’re doing the same, even if all you want to do is apologize. You haven’t had an issue quite like this, so things are a little unfamiliar to you. You tried to talk to him last night but he wasn’t ready, and you’re unsure when he will be. 

You head towards the counter and cut up the vegetables for the soup before slicing the fruits. You’re focused on your task, knowing how sharp the knives are, but it’s at the same time that your brother and Jungkook arrive. Seeing your boyfriend look as good as he does in that denim jacket-over tank top fit is so sinful; it’s a crime you’re not talking that it distracts you, and it’s what causes you to slice through your finger and yelp in pain.

“Did you hurt yourself, dear?” Your mom asks as she stirs the pot. 

“Yeah,” you say, placing your hand under running water.

You’re about to ask Jimin to get the First Aid kit from the drawer but Jungkook gets to it first, knowing where it is. 

He knows that your brother, who’s terrified of blood, won’t help you, and despite your situation, Jungkook can’t stand not helping. So he lathers an antiseptic once the bleeding has stopped, then he wraps a band-aid around it. Just like him, you focus your gaze on your finger. Or maybe you’re stuck on the way he tends to you. Or the fact that this is the most physical touch you’ve done this past day when you normally can’t take your hands off each other. 

He sighs to himself. If he wasn’t so hung up on his hurt feelings, he’d be able to tend to you better. This might not even have happened if he’d just spoken to you last night. 

But he shakes the thought away. He’s still upset. But he’ll always want to take care of you; that’s the one thing that won’t ever change.

“Thank you,” you mumble, still not meeting his eyes.

“I’ll do this,” he says, waiting for you to step aside before he takes your place. 

“Jungkook dear, do you mind helping me with the glazed potatoes after you finish that?” She asks.

“Sure thing, auntie,” he replies. 

You watch him work around the kitchen the way he’s done so many times before, and your heart stings at the sight because you want to be doing this with him, with your parents, in your family kitchen. But it’s not like you could talk to him right now, not when you don’t know how to say what you want to say. So you head outside to where your dad is grilling the meat and help him instead. 

It’s not long after when dinner is ready, and you’re seated across Jungkook again. It’s a little tense when you look at him when he looks away, but Jimin thankfully finds a way to keep the conversation light and focused on him.

Your parents insist that both men don’t need to help clean up, and Jimin asks you if you’re really not going.

“Yeah I’ll just… stay home, make sure mom and dad are packed well and just get everything in order for tomorrow,” you say, half lying. 

“Gee, you make me look like a useless child,” Jimin pouts.

“You’re alright,” you hum. “You can drive them to the airport tomorrow.”

“But mom asked Jungkook to do that.”

“Well then you could just… make them a card or something,” you shrug. 

Your brother sticks his tongue at you and you do the same. 

“Fine, we’ll head out,” he announces.

“You guys have fun,” you say softly, glancing at Jungkook before walking towards the sink to do your duty. 

You turn to your brother. “Call me if you need me to pick you up. No driving drunk, okay?”

He salutes you in response then heads out after Jungkook.

It’s uneventful after that. You help your parents with last minute packing then have a long shower. You lie on your bed and mindlessly watch some movie on your laptop hoping that you’ll fall asleep soon, and that when you wake up, you’ll find the strength to go to Jungkook and tell him that you’re sorry and that you don’t want to go another day without him. 

“Hey, Jungkook. Dance with me.”

Jungkook looks up to find Hari and gives the same answer he’s given the last two times.

“Sorry, I’m injured,” he says. 

She raises her eyebrow as if she doesn’t believe him and he can’t blame her; he doesn’t exactly know how to act like it.

“Oh, Jimin. There you are,” she chirps as the said man approaches the table. “Dance with me.”

“Sorry, I'm injured.”

“Great. It’s my birthday and I spot two hot guys in this party without girls around them and they’re fake injured,” she scowls. “What’s up with you two?”

“I’m not in the mood,” Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m babysitting,” Jimin says, gesturing at his friend. “But Mingyu and Eunwoo are right there. Go tell them to dance with you.”

“Fine. I’ll get in line then,” she rolls her eyes then walks away.

“How come no one believes me when I say I’m injured?” Jungkook asks as he munches on the fried chicken wings his best friend got.

“Because you’re a terrible actor. People believe me because I’m believable,” Jimin hums.

“They believe you because you posted all over social media that you hurt your ankle,” Jungkook corrects. 

“Yeah but that was like, half a year ago.”

“Why are you even pretending you’re injured? You don’t have to stay with me, you know? Go to the dance floor and have fun. That’s your thing.”

“Well, maybe I’m also not in the mood because my best friend’s sulking,” Jimin frowns. 

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“You know my sister’s sorry, right?”

“She’s ashamed, that’s what she is. And I’m just supposed to live with that.”

Jimin sighs as he watches his best friend mindlessly stare out onto the dance floor. Jungkook’s probably trying to rid himself of the image of both of you dancing and kissing and having fun if you were here. He could be making sense of what he feels, or his mind could also just be completely blank right now.

But what Jimin knows is that another glass of whiskey is something that Jungkook shouldn’t be having, so he stops his best friend from ordering another one.

“You might get drunk and then you’ll call or go see her and then you’ll say things you’ll regret and then you’ll hurt her and you’ll get even more hurt and you’ll have a harder time fixing things and then it just won’t stop and you’ll feel stupid because you’re not talking over something you could easily fix,” Jimin heaves. 

It’s a lot to process but Jungkook knows that Jimin’s right. He’ll just get too emotional and won’t be able to control himself and despite what he feels, hurting you is the last thing he wants.

So he orders water instead, finishes it, then heads for the door.

“I don’t wanna be here anymore,” he says. “I need to get some air.”

They end up at a park, the one that you used to hang at with your friends in high school. Jungkook knows because he always accompanied Jimin there when you’d tell him where to meet you. It’s peaceful at this time of night and much more beautiful, too. It’s no surprise he keeps thinking that you’re right next to him, with your head on his chest and laughing at his jokes. 

“Why is this affecting me so much?” He wonders out loud. “Why am I so hurt and so stubborn?”

“Because she said something she shouldn’t have. But also because you put her on a pedestal,” Jimin answers. “She made a mistake, and you’re free to fault her for it. I mean, anytime someone we care about hurts us, it sucks like hell. But you also have to think that maybe it’s affecting you as much as it does because she’s always been faultless in your eyes and she isn’t.”

The reality is a slap on the face, but one that Jungkook thinks he needs to have. You were everything he ever wanted and these past three months have been a bliss. But now that reality hits and you have to face the pressure that’s part of your life, your humanness is showing. And that’s what he’s always liked about you, isn’t it? The imperfections and the flaws? Now that those are affecting him, it’s affecting him hard, and he’s having a hard time getting over it.

“Maybe once you accept that she’s human and not just the dream you’ve had since forever, then you’ll realize that things like that happen but she never means to hurt you,” Jimin adds. “You can’t think that she does. You learn to work it out by facing it, Kook. You have to talk about it. You have to tell her it hurts and you have to listen to what she says, and then you forgive. That’s kind of how grownup relationships go.”

“Guess I’ve never had one before, huh?”

“Maybe they just didn’t mean enough to hurt you.”

“This means everything, then,” Jungkook sighs, as things get clearer in his mind. “Because I think what hurts more now is not being next to her.”

“Great! Then can both of you patch things up now?” Jimin beams, feeling hopeful. “I hate seeing both of you sad and so stupid. Plus, my parents are leaving tomorrow and you won’t have a buffer anymore. So please just talk.”

Jungkook admits feeling touched. He knows at the end of the day, Jimin cares about him and you more than anyone, and he probably misses being around both of you at the same time. Jungkook does, too, but he misses you the most and it’s only been a day.

“Tomorrow,” he says. “I don’t know what to tell her and it’s late. She might be asleep and—”

“Now you’re just making excuses,” Jimin crosses his arms.

“Well, what if I expect her to be the one to talk to me?”

“She tried but you didn’t want to, remember?”

“That was last night. The wound was still fresh,” Jungkook pouts. 

“Oh god. I feel like I’m dealing with children,” Jimin groans.

“Imagine how we felt taking care of you,” Jungkook answers back.

“At least I was just one person,” Jimin rolls his eyes. 

“Your dramatics were equivalent to two people though.”

Both men bicker as they walk back to the car. It started to drizzle so they decided to go back to their respective homes. Jungkook could stay over at your place and maybe talk to you if he really wants to but he’s seriously just chickening out over it. 

He’s never had to make up with you because none of your previous arguments ever led to you not talking to each other, or him pushing you away. He’s never had to spend a day ignoring you. And now, there’s so much to say and so much to feel but he doesn’t know how to approach it. He’ll need tonight to sort himself out and then he’ll speak to you, maybe after he drives your parents to the airport. Or maybe on the way back. 

He drops Jimin off; 30 seconds later, he’s home, too. You’re so close but so far away just like you used to be. But at least this time he knows that when the next day comes, he’ll have a chance to just pull you close and tell you he doesn’t want to be like this ever again.

There’s an incessant knocking on your door, and as you’re about to yell out that you’re asleep, you realize it might be Jungkook. You sit up on your bed and when the door opens and you see your brother instead, your face falls.

“It’s just me, unfortunately,” he says. “Kook’s back at his place.”

“Oh,” you sigh. “Why are you home so early? It’s like, 11.”

“Because after the third girl, his fake injury excuse wore off and people just didn’t believe him. We looked like losers sitting on the table eating chicken,” Jimin chuckles. “So we left after an hour then went to a park and I knocked some sense into him and now he’s not so upset anymore. And I’m here to knock some sense into you, too.”

“I already know I made a mistake, Chim. I’m… I’m so fucking stupid. I just… don’t want him to think that I’m ashamed of him or that I don’t think he’s enough or any of that. I mean I’m—”

“Crazy about him, right?”

“I kinda am,” you smile softly.

“Good, because so is he and he’s hoping you’d go talk to him even if he says he’ll talk to you tomorrow. Don’t waste time anymore and—”

You’re bolting off your bed and putting on your hoodie before your brother could finish his sentence. 

“If mom and dad look for me, tell them I—”

“Got attacked by a clown in the sewer.”

You look at him incredulously then realize you’re wearing yellow then you frown. 

“Just make up some excuse. I’ll… hopefully be back in the morning,” you say.

“Alright. It’s drizzling though so—”

And just like that, you’re gone.

It takes all but 10 seconds for the rain to pour, and your hoodie and sweatpants are no match for it. You groan at your brother for underselling the weather but then again, you also should be thanking him for telling you what you needed to hear - that Jungkook’s not so upset anymore and that he’s hoping you’d speak to him. 

Much as you think you would’ve taken any chance today to patch things up, you also would’ve frozen in front of him. You suppose you needed to know he was ready for you, and if he wouldn’t tell you, then of course, Jimin would. You just really wish he had the foresight to know it would rain this hard but you’re probably asking for too much. 

But Jungkook’s place is just a few blocks from yours so you power through. When you get there, you realize that you forgot your phone, so you make the stupid decision of climbing over the short fence and then hitting your cut finger in the process. 

You have no time to feel pain though, as the next order of business is getting Jungkook’s attention. But before you can execute your plan of throwing rocks on his window, the front door opens, and you telepathically thank your brother who probably called your boyfriend to alert him that you’ll be arriving at his place wet from the rain.

“___, what are you doing here?” Jungkook asks with worry painted on his face. 

“I just… I needed to come and see you,” you manage to answer.

His face softens and you feel the hope bloom in your chest. He pulls you inside by the wrist and instructs you to quietly go up the stairs. You’re at least not drenched but you still got wet, so he leads you to the bathroom to wash up. He tells you to wait as he gets you something to change in, and he returns after half a minute with a towel and a large shirt.

“Cream and band-aid, for your wound,” he says, placing them on the counter. “My room’s the second door to the right, in case you forgot.”

You take him in, in his black tank top and shorts, his tongue playing with his lip ring the way he always does when he’s nervous. You manage to nod before he heads out, and you take a quick shower and then pull his oversized shirt over you. 

You quietly walk to his room, knocking on the door first before opening it slowly. It’s a bit dim but seeing him is all you need. After placing your clothes on the nearby chair, you look at him again. 

He looks tired and worried. He also looks like he has so much to say but he doesn’t know where to start. There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes but there’s longing, too, and you suppose he’s mirroring how you look. You feel a lot. You also want to say a lot, but you don’t know where or how to start. 

So you do the one thing you know often works. You approach him then wrap your arms around his torso. You fall into his embrace as quickly as he falls into yours, as he seems to have the same idea. You hold him tighter and pull him closer. You flush your cheeks on his chest while he buries his face on your neck. You grip his top and he does the same with yours. Your heart beats fast in longing and you feel his own do the same, too. 

There’s so much to feel and say but this is all you can do. And right now, it’s quite enough. 

You loosen your grip, but only so you could nuzzle his neck while your arms wrap around them. He feels so warm and he smells so delicate and he’s all you need.

“You knew I was coming?” You ask, turning to him

“Jimin said you were on your way without an umbrella and your phone,” Jungkook chuckles. But his face softens as he wipes the lone tear that falls down your cheek. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a typhoon or anything.”

“I had to get to you,” you mumble. 

“He also told me he wasn’t subtle in telling you to come here.”

“Well, he did say you wanted me to talk to you. And I wanted to. I just wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear me out and I was… giving you space.”

“Yeah well, I don’t know what to do with that space without you there,” he sighs, his eyes shy and absolutely adorable.

“Neither do I,” you smile. “So, uh. Will you invite me to your bed, maybe fill that space and more?”

“Of course,” he laughs, taking your hand and leading you there. 

You get under the covers and once he lies next to you, you scoot closer, hugging him again until you’re laying on top of him. But he doesn’t complain. He just hugs you back tightly, pulling you closer until he’s able to bask in your scent and the warm feel of you.

But despite the relief, you know you actually have to do the talking. You pull away and lay on your side. You take in his beauty and his softness and the way they make you feel like all is right again in the world. Your fingers trace his face, from his nose to his cheek to his lips, and he does the boyfriend thing of kissing your hand - including your cut finger - before wrapping it around his waist. He looks like he’s anticipating your words, too, so you try and hope they’re enough.

“Kook, I’m so sorry,” you start. “I… I have no excuse. I was being selfish and cowardly because I didn’t know how to tell my parents. I didn’t want to deal with what they’ll say about your job, knowing how they are and what they value and I just…”

“That’s for me to deal with though,” he says. “Because I chose this. And I’ve always known how they are but I still chose you.”

“It’s for us to deal with, and I did it so terribly,” you shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that I’m ashamed of you and what you do. That freedom, the ability to create… they’re things they don’t really understand. And I thought I knew how to make them. I just ended up denying us and that was so wrong. I’m so sorry.”

“I… I get it,” he responds, caressing your cheek now. “They worked so hard to give you this life and of course they want to make sure you’re taken care of. And for them, they only know of one way that could happen. I’d be naive to think they’ll just accept that the man who’s crazy about their daughter isn’t some corporate dude with secure employment and upward mobility in his career.”

He doesn’t miss your shy smile and the way you nibble your lip and that just triggers the butterflies in his belly. 

“But that’s for me to show them that I can take care of you, and not because you can’t do it yourself but because I want to,” he adds. “I… I wanna be that person who makes things better and easier for you and who makes you happy.”

And who makes you feel loved, he doesn’t say. That’s a conversation for another day, he thinks.

“You do,” you assure him. “And I feel it everyday. You’re good at that, and I don’t tell you enough.”

“I know now,” he smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. 

You return it but pull away. “Do you forgive me?”

“Of course I do,” he says, falling into the kiss that he gives again.

“Okay. I don’t wanna hurt you like that ever again.”

Your pouty face tugs his heart and he wants to tell you that none of that matters now because you’re back in each other’s arms, and that’ll always be enough for him. 

He just hums as he goes for another kiss that’s deeper this time. And when you let him push you to lay on your back as you moan against his lips, his heart soars even more. He’s missed you, and it’s definitely going to be a long night.

He hovers over you now, and he shivers when your fingers graze his neck and then his chest. You open your legs to meet his hips, and the feel of your clothed cunt against him has his brain short-circuiting. He gets in the rhythm of grinding against you while he kisses your lips then your jaw then your neck, his hand now sneaking under your shirt to fondle your breast.

It’s when he sucks on that sensitive part near your ear that you yelp in pleasure, and he immediately covers your mouth with his hand while he giggles.

“Gotta keep it down babe,” he whispers. “My parents are in the other room.”

But he doesn’t stop his kissing and you don’t really want him to.

“It’s not like you’re making it any easier,” you moan as he pinches your pert nipple.

“I’m not and I won’t, but you gotta try,” he smirks before his lips trail downward.

You’re unable to say anything once his tongue swirls around your buds. His hands wrap around your breasts that he praises, that he kisses and licks before slowly letting them go to hold onto your waist this time. He presses open-mouth kisses down your torso, his lips in tandem with your underwear that’s teasingly being removed off of you. 

You hear him let out a breathy moan as he spreads your legs wider. 

And while you know that this tender-hearted man has a cheeky streak in him, you didn’t expect for him to have his finger against his lips to shush you, knowing what he’s about to do. His smug face turns you on even more, and your breath is caught in your throat once you feel his tongue flat against your flesh, warming it up before the tip of his wet muscle swirls around your nub.

But you go along with his request, biting back your moan, even as your pussy chases his mouth for more. 

And it’s what he gives, as he dives in and sucks and bites your clit while his two fingers explore your hole. The cold of his lip ring is a contrast to how hot you feel, and it’s a sensation you can never get enough of. You whimper in silence but you manage to look at him, his eyes closed as he buries his face in your cunt. 

“Look at me,” you whisper and he follows, his gaze meeting yours. “Fuu-uuck, Kook. You feel so good,” your voice quivers.

His mouth’s full but yours is hanging open. You cover yours with your free hand while the other pulls on his long locks. He’s enjoying this so much, you can tell with the way he squeezes your thighs and moans against your skin. He follows a pace that has your body shaking, straining in intense pleasure until it gives in. You let out a low scream as your orgasm hits, and he’s right there, riding out your high with you.

He cleans you up with his tongue and then makes a show of licking your essence off his fingers before kissing you again.

“You did good,” he teases, as he caresses your cheek.

You’re about to say that so did he when bucks his hip against yours, and the feel of his hard cock against your still wet cunt ignites another fire in you. He repeats it, and it’s what has you moaning again.

“Fuck baby, I told you to keep it down,” he says, continuing his movements.

You know you can’t help it at this point, not when he’s back to licking your neck and kneading your breast.

“Whatever. Not like this isn’t new to your parents or anything,” you say. 

It’s a guess but you doubt you’re wrong.

“What? Fucking a girl in my room?” 

“Yeah?”

“But you’re the first girl I ever brought in here,” he cocks an eyebrow. 

“That’s uh, that’s kinda sweet,” you reply, your breath steadying now. 

“Yeah and well, who gets to say they fucked their childhod crush in their childhood bedroom?” He smirks again. “I can.”

He’s back to kissing you and much as you enjoy this, the itch to feel him in your mouth overtakes you, and you take the chance when he trails down your neck.

“So, can this childhood crush suck your dick?” 

“Yes, she can,” he chuckles.

He removes himself from you and leans against his bed frame. You get on your knees and pull off his boxers, salivating at the sight before you. You get on top of him, your damp lips gliding against his hard cock and his mouth drops open, an invitation for you to do what you wish.

With your movements on his hips, you focus on his neck, licking up the smooth flesh and the protruding vein that has him biting back his moan. Then you kiss him, desperately and passionately, as you slowly remove his tank top and rest your hands on his chest.

It’s your turn to trail kisses down his torso now and you give every inch of him ample attention. But when you make it further down, there’s one part of him that deserves so much more. You tease him only a little, stroking his length and kitten-licking his slit, before swallowing him whole and swirling your tongue around and all over his cock. He’s hard and thick and everything you want inside of you.

You hold back a gag while he holds back his whimpers. You stroke him relentlessly so you could watch his mouth hang open and his strained body almost folding in pleasure as his thighs tighten in your hold. 

“You like that, baby?” You hum.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me. Fuck,” he keens, his voice quivering now. 

You let his sounds guide you on how hard and how deep to go, but he’s the one who stops you, as he leans close and captures your lips in a searing kiss. He pulls you back on top of him to slide down his cock and the stretch makes you moan in his mouth. 

He’s propped up on his arms for support while you move up and down, loving how he drags inside you in an angle that has your mind going hazy. You wrap your arms around his neck while he pushes upward to meet you, and somehow doing this while trying to be quiet is making the pleasure more intense.

It gets too much for Jungkook and he wants more. He wants to hit your deepest spots. He wants to be as close to you as he possibly can. He wants to swallow your moans and touch every part of your body and pleasure you in every way that he’s able. 

So he pulls you off and lays you on your side, sliding back in from behind, with your one leg raised. The angle has you keening, even more when his one hand finds your breast and the other does its work on your clit. He pushes gently then roughly, no longer caring about the odd sounds the bed is making against his wall. He wouldn’t mind making up a reason to his parents if they ask him about it. Right now, all he wants is to reach his peak with you. 

Your body is shaking in pleasure and overstimulation but you urge him, wanting to feel his seed inside you as well.

You lick his mouth. “Baby please, I want to feel your cum inside me,” you beg. “I want you so bad, fuck fuck.”

He loves it when you plead to him like this. He loves hearing what he does to you. He revels in the way your body molds into his, the way it aches to be close and to be one with him. His movements continue, and with his unrhythmic pounding against your pussy, he comes. You come right after, caused by his intense fiddling of your clit, and you feel like floating, your body in the clouds of pure pleasure.

But like always, he’s there with you, making sure you safely fall into a bed of hugs and kisses and warmth. He stays inside you as he softens, but his arms wrap around you, his face in your neck as he mumbles words of praise. 

“Fifteen-year-old me would never believe this,” he heaves as he turns you over to face him.

You giggle in response. 

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

“I do. It’s how I am with you. In the best way, of course,” he smiles his boyish smile, an interesting mix of innocent and cheeky.

“It’s the same with me,” you whisper, kissing his nose. “And 18-year-old me would never believe this.”

You wake up the next morning to the alarm that you set on Jungkook’s phone. Your parents are leaving early in the afternoon and they wanted to prepare breakfast for all of you, and it’s a meal with them that you’re excited and a little nervous to have. 

You kiss the chest that your face is flushed against, and this elicits a groan from the man next to you. 

“Good morning, babe,” you greet, shifting up to kiss his nose this time. 

“G’morning,” he grunts.

“So, uh, we’re supposed to meet my parents for breakfast. And uh, I’m going to tell them about us.”

It’s what prompts him to finally open his eyes, and the softness in them makes your heart burst. 

“Okay,” he smiles. “I hope it won’t ruin their trip or anything.”

“It won’t,” you assure him. “I… I tried to get through to my mom yesterday. You know, just telling her the things I value and stuff.”

“Hmm. Jimin did the same with your dad. I guess I won’t be such a disappointment now, huh?”

“Shush, you’re not even that,” you pout. “I think they’ll understand.”

He mirrors your smile and there’s a giddy feeling at finally - hopefully - seeing your parents be happy for you. So you get off the bed and sneak out of Jungkook’s bedroom to go to the bathroom. 

You wash up quickly, only to make it to the hallway and find his parents standing there, wide-eyed as they look at you in surprise. You realize you’re only wearing Jungkook’s shirt that falls just above your knees and you try to cover whatever you can with your hands.

“Hi, uncle. Hi, auntie,” you shyly smile. “This, uh, this isn’t how I wanted to meet you.”

“Well, we don’t really mind,” Jungkook’s mother smiles. “We’re just glad you’re here. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”

“I know. I, uh, I wasn’t dating your son yet the last time I was here.”

“And that calls for a celebration, doesn’t it?” She giggles. “That boy has had a crush on you since forever. It’s funny he never believed that we knew. He wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” you laugh back.

You hear a door open and before you know it, large arms are wrapping around your waist and a mop of hair tickles your cheek. Jungkook grunts against your neck as he says that he’s finally awake, and you cringe at his parents’ amused faces.

“Kook, your parents are in front of us. This is so embarrassing.”

“Nah, they don’t mind. They’re cool,” he says.

“Yeah, and my parents aren’t,” you sigh.

“So, I’m guessing your parents don’t know yet?” His father asks.

Your pout prompts him to explain. “Well, the day after you got together, our lovesick son here told our family about both of you. But he said that you haven't told your parents yet so we’ve kept it from them ever since. It’s hard since we see them all the time but we managed.”

“Kook also told us about what happened,” his mother asks. “He was grumpy all day yesterday and we got him to tell us why he was so upset.”

“I’m sorry,” you pout again. “That wasn’t my finest moment.”

You feel Jungkook’s hold on you tighten, his way of telling you it’s all okay.

“It’s alright, darling,” she smiles. “We know how your parents are, and their reasons come from a good place. We tried to make this boy here understand them and you as well. Firstborns carry immense pressure to meet expectations; he just doesn’t get it because he’s the youngest. But it seems that it’s worked out with both of you, and we’re glad it did.”

“He couldn’t resist me,” you shrug, to his parents’ amusement. 

“Uh, you’re the one who walked through the rain to come see me,” he reminds you, his head popping out of your neck now. 

“You wanted me to.”

He tickles you in response and you’re all laughing in no time. It’s a different dynamic with his parents, as Jungkook always had a very close relationship with them. You saw it as a teenager and now, you get to be part of it, too.

They finally let you go and ask you to have dinner with them tomorrow, and that’s one meal that you’re definitely excited to have. 

You push Jungkook towards the bathroom and then return to his room to dress up. It’s shortly after when you’re both walking the few blocks to your house, fingers interlocked as you give each other comfort.

You make it home and once you unlock the door, you can already hear laughter and clanking pots from the kitchen. You head there, meet Jimin’s smug face, and clear your throat to announce your presence.

“Oh, there you are. We were wondering where you were,” your mother says. “And hi, Jungkook.”

He greets your parents and from behind you, you take his hand again. 

“I went for a walk… with Jungkook.”

He clears his throat and you backtrack.

“I mean, I, uh, was at his place. That’s where I slept.”

“Oh?” Your parents say at the same time, their eyes looking at you in confusion.

“He’s kinda my boyfriend.”

“Kinda? Babe, I think I’m more than ‘kinda’ your boyfriend,” he exclaims. 

Your parents look shocked and next to them, Jimin is laughing in his seat.

“I mean, he is my legit, actual boyfriend,” you correct. “The new thing in my life that I denied is actually him. And the person who stands by me, who makes me enjoy the moments? That’s him, too.”

Their faces soften, and somehow that’s the comfort you need. Perhaps all the talking that you and your brother have done has gotten into them. You wouldn’t be surprised if they talked about it, too.

“Why didn’t you tell us, then?” Your mother asks.

“Because he’s not what you expected,” you sigh. “And I didn’t know how you’d take it.”

“Well, he is your brother’s best friend,” she points out. 

“Who’s had a crush on me since he was a teenager,” you explain.

“That’s… not surprising,” your father laughs. “We could tell.”

“Oh my god, Kook. You are not subtle,” you elbow him. You turn back at them. “But I… I didn’t know how to tell you because you expect me to have a partner who’s part of your world, you know? And Jungkook likes his freedom. He likes his art and… he really likes me. And I happen to really like him, too.”

“He treats you well? Makes you happy? He’s someone you can depend on when things get tough?” Your father asks. 

He smiles tenderly at you and you feel like crying.

“Yes, very much,” you nod.

“Then I think he’s everything we need him to be. A good partner, I’d say.”

You let out a sigh of relief. This is all you needed to hear.

“We’re sorry if you felt like you couldn’t be honest with us,” your mother shakes her head. “I guess we just needed some reminding of what we want for you and your brother. And well, Jungkook’s shown us his heart all these years. He’s always been a part of the family and he’ll be even more.”

They’re words that Jungkook didn’t expect would get him emotional, and he hugs you from behind just to steady himself. But it’s what makes your mother walk towards him for a hug, and your father surprisingly does the same. 

“Alright, I guess it’s fitting to have this family breakfast together,” your mother says.

You all take your seats at the dining table, with yours being next to Jungkook now.

Jimin cheekily smiles. “Well, if this whole dance thing doesn’t work out, I guess I can just be a counselor or family therapist or something.”

“Just don’t call your clients ‘stupid,’” you roll your eyes.

“I won’t. That’s only reserved for you.”

And just like that, everything is as it should be.

You get through breakfast with lots of laughter, as you and Jungkook tell your own versions of the story while Jimin butts in to tell his own. It’s heartwarming to see your parents this way, especially when they tease your boyfriend about his crush on you growing up. 

But even they admit that they’ve depended on him all these years, too, and that they don’t doubt his loyalty and commitment to you. 

You share a tense moment with him after you all drop your parents to the airport, though. Jungkook has just unloaded all their things and as they hug you goodbye, your father teases.

“Just don’t welcome us home and tell us we're grandparents already.”

Jungkook dry laughs and so do you. That’s another topic for another day, you suppose, and while you’re still unsure of having a family, you just know it’s something you’ll both talk about.

You all get home soon after to wash up. Jungkook’s excited about how you’ll spend the day now that you’re both talking again, and you suggest hanging by the beach and then going out for dinner. 

Jimin says he’ll stay home to let you two make up for the past two days and so he could have that online date with Taehyung, and you agree.

You and Jungkook end up having a really good day. 

You go to a mall and walk around. He gets you a pair of stud earrings to commemorate the day you went official to your parents and you buy him a silver chain necklace for the same silly reason, but also because he looks really good in one and you want him to have more. It pairs real nicely with the shirt and joggers casual outfit he’s been sporting these past days, and the teasing look he makes after he puts it on reminds you of that one time his necklace was dangling on your face when he was pounding into you on your couch.

You get fruit drinks and snacks at the stalls you both used to buy from as teenagers, then you head to the beach where you lounge until sunset. You wade in the water, splash each other, and then make out when there’s no one around. 

You feel so free and light, so young and hopeful. These are the moments you love having with him, the ones you like to enjoy and savor and have more of. And you know you’ll have them for the rest of this trip and when you get back to Seoul. 

Jimin joins you for dinner at a burger place, then you all buy cup noodles and beer and head to your favorite park. It’s just like how most of your nights together go, just in the outdoors. You and your brother bicker and Jungkook referees; there’s also the occasional “you’re so cheesy” comment from you to your boyfriend and Jimin’s gagging sound. 

You confirm plans for the rest of the trip. Your parents will be enjoying Hawaii for close to two weeks, and you have all that time to rest and spend time with your two favorite people. You’ll be off work. Jungkook has some projects to finalize while you do your own thing, and Jimin will be watching dance shows to get him inspired. 

But there are more beaches and parks and villages to visit. There’s also that two-night stay at a resort you’ll be having. There are other sites and restaurants to go to, and you’ll be reliving your teenage years together while making new memories.

You’re now back at home, snug in Jungkook’s arms as he leans against the bed frame in your room, with you in between his legs. 

“Today was a really good day,” you say, turning to him after he kisses your cheek.

“Today was amazing,” he hums.

He smiles as he replays the scenes of you shopping for each other, frolicking on the beach, and walking around your favorite spots. They’re all so simple and things you’ve done before but today felt so much more. There was a look in your eyes that held such tenderness and care for him. You held his hand as if you didn’t want to ever let go, as if you didn’t want him to.

“I really like you, Kook,” you mumble, almost like a confession, as if it’s not known. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

His eyes soften, as does his smile that he’s had on pretty much the whole day. But he just looks at you, and though you know he feels the same way, you want to hear him verbalize it again.

“Hey, say it back,” you nudge him. 

“I love you though,” he says after a beat of silence.

You’re now the one who looks at him, unable to say a word. 

“Are you that surprised?” He looks back at you nervously, nibbling his lip ring. “I mean, I think it’s quite obvious, just like everything I feel about you is.”

“Kook, I…” you try, but you don’t exactly know how to respond. 

You don’t doubt his feelings but somehow you can’t help but think that maybe right now, he loves the idea of you and not you, and there’s a difference.

“I think I always have but I guess I didn’t realize just how much until this whole thing happened,” he continues, wanting you to understand what he feels. “I asked Jimin why it was affecting me so much and he said it’s because I put you on a pedestal. You were this dream I’ve had for so long that I admired from a distance and now I get to be with you and you’re… human, not some flawless being who doesn’t make mistakes. So when you hurt me, I faltered. That’s on me, too. Because I… I expected too much. And I’m sorry.”

His focus is on his hands that are playing with yours before he turns to you again.

“I realized that I wanted so badly for you to want me, that’s why it hurt. I wanted to be that person you cared for and trusted and needed because you’re all that for me. And when I saw you at my door last night, nothing else mattered but you,” he continues. 

“Whatever misunderstanding or mistake or disagreement, I learned to accept them and I just wanted you, in my arms, so I could show you that you’re all I need. I’ve dreamt of you for so long and this version of you is more than I could’ve imagined. And I just… I love you, okay? It doesn’t matter how you feel. I just need you to know that I do, and I don’t think I’ll stop.”

Your heart is about to burst, and all you could do is cup his face in your hands and kiss him, hard and deep until you run out of air. You kiss him eagerly because you’re desperate for his touch. You kiss him passionately because there are things you feel that you can’t put into words yet, and this is how you tell him. 

He’s quick to follow your pace, wrapping his arms around your waist as he helps you sit on his lap. Your fingers comb through his hair and grip his top and pull him closer, all while you grind against him and moan in his mouth. 

But when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and caresses your cheek, you go tender. 

“I love you so much,” he whispers against your lips, and all you feel is the warmth of his touch and how it’s all the comfort and security and stability that you need.

You slowly pull away and graze your nose against his. You don’t say anything else and he doesn’t expect you to. But you kiss his cheek and hug him, and you hear him sigh in relief.

He pulls away and cheekily smiles. 

“You know, there’s a song for this.”

“A—what?” You laugh.

“A song.”

He pulls away from you then stands from the bed. “Let me get it from Jimin’s room.”

You stare at him questioningly because you really didn’t think he could surprise you even more. He returns with one of his burned CDs and you ask him if he has a sex playlist or something. 

“I used to daydream about you to this,” he says, as he puts it in the CD player that your parents got you for your 17th birthday. “I listened to it after that very kiss we had and, well, we’re back home rehashing so many memories and I kinda just want to fulfill another fantasy of mine.”

He plays the song and the first notes get you all giddy and excited and nostalgic and very much turned on. 

“This was my favorite song,” you say, as you signal him to come closer.

“I know. You played it all the time, I could hear it from the other room.”

You giggle, and it’s a sound he wants to listen to forever. 

“So, what’s this fantasy of yours?” You ask, as you take your shirt off.

He licks his lips at the breathtaking sight of you, but he softens at the fairy tattoo on your shoulder, the one he customized and that you love showing off.

“Just… make love to you while this plays in the background,” he manages to say. 

Your face softens, too, and it’s a sight he also wants to see everyday of his life.

“I’m all yours, Kook. Do whatever you please.”

It’s a week later when you tell him. 

You’d just gotten back from that short trip to a resort that had you relaxed and stuffed with food. You video called with your parents during their sunset cruise and your father once again teased about not being grandparents yet and just like the first time, you brushed it off. 

You’re lying on Jungkook’s chest as you laugh about Jimin’s terrible bowling skills. And in the silence, he asks, “does it bother you that your parents expect you to have kids?”

You knew he’d picked up on it the first time, but it’s just now that he’s bringing it up.

“A little. I try not to think about it though,” you sigh. “It’s another one of those expectations, you know? But I guess it’s a harder thing to talk to them about, that I don’t know if I want kids.”

He just hums and combs your hair with his fingers.

“Does it bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling nervous. You know enough this is a make-or-break for many people. 

“Not really,” he says. “It’s not easy to raise a child, much less carry one, and that’s something I can’t do for you. But I guess, it doesn’t matter. We can have kids. Or not. We can have a dog or a pet tortoise or a fish, really. When I think of a future, all I see is you. The rest is just a bonus.”

He speaks of your future with such certainty. He’s always talked about enjoying the moments but the one version of a future he wants is the one where you’re with him. 

“I just want you to know that whatever you’re worried about, share it with me. I don’t want you to worry about me. We do this together. We figure it out together,” he adds. 

And just like that, the fears and pressure you feel slowly dissipate. He’s the only version of the future you want. Everything else is just a bonus. 

You turn to him with a kiss on his cheek. 

“I love you, Kook. I don’t want anyone else to love me, and I don’t want to love anybody else,” you whisper like a plea, just like a promise. 

“I’m not loving anybody else,” he kisses you. 

And it’s his own promise he makes.

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Blood and Ink

‧₊˚✩彡Summary: Scroll… Scroll… Double-tap… Scroll. Stuck in an endless doom scroll. Scroll… Stop. Dopamine in vivid colors delivered straight to your eyeballs makes you pause. Striking colors… Impressive linework… unique designs. His art is immaculate. You need it on your skin.

-A Rafayel Tattoo Artist AU-

‧₊˚✩彡Pairing: Rafayel x Female/AFAB reader

‧₊˚✩彡Warning: 18+ MDNI, Vaginal Sex, Tattoos, Tattooing, Dominate/Submissive themes, Reader is a Switch, Rafayel is a Switch, Power Fucking, Pussy Pounding, Nipple Piercings, Rough Sex, Protected Sex, Porn with Plot, Mating Press, Alternative Universe, literally the cutest ending.

Ao3

Scroll… Scroll… Double-tap… Scroll. Stuck in an endless doom scroll, you check the time and do the math.

If you fall asleep now and sleep in an extra 15 minutes tomorrow morning, you will get… 6 hours of sleep.

You tell yourself that you really will turn your phone off and go to sleep… after the next reel. Wait, no. 10 more reels, just in case the next one is an ad or trash.

Scroll… scroll… the algorithm is failing you tonight. Click on one inositol ad for ovarian health and for some strange reason, Instagram puts a hundred ads in front of you; supplements for a tasty pussy. You roll your eyes at another pussy gummy ad and scroll.

Scroll…

Stop.

Dopamine in vivid colors delivered straight to your eyeballs makes you pause. A tattoo needle pierces skin as Stray Kids blasts.

🎶Cookin’ like a chef I’m a 5 star Michelin

“미”의 정점을 찍고 눈에 보여 illusion🎶

The edit draws you in even as the line still makes you laugh internally. Restaurants can only get a max of 3 stars. Are they saying that they have 2 restaurants? One with 3 and another with 2?

The song still slaps.

You lose count of how many times you let the reel play. The “Birds of Prey” version of Harlequin is lined in vivacious neons. The piece was made for the female gaze and you simply have to look at the artist’s page.

It's… inspired? Chaotic?

It’s different.

You scroll and scroll and you fall in love. A nebula captured in a cat outlined in white, a black and white portrait of a toddler but with eyes full color that look so real it’s uncanny, a sky-scraper skyline you recognize because it’s your city and its in watercolors… you love every piece more than the last and scroll back up to find the artist’s link tree.

His studio is in the same city. His studio. You curse internally for many reasons.

Your first tattoo was done by a complete pig and the memory of him instantly makes you shudder. He kept making comments on the fullness and shape of your breasts as he tattooed your ribcage. And as a timid 18-year-old, you sat there and took it in extreme discomfort.

You sought out femme artists since then to make yourself feel more at ease. You didn’t usually find such inspired artists on your Instagram page that were in your city and you normally would just pin their art to your pinterest. Riffard is in France, Pablo Frias in New York, Pikkaman in LA. You didn’t have to struggle with the internal debate because all these artists were so far away. But TattedRafayel’s studio is literally within walking distance of your inner-city apartment and his work is stunning.

You practically salivate as you think about the larger pieces that you haven’t gotten done because you want them to be done by the best. In your city, you had yet to find an artist whose style seemed to match the type of art that you really wanted on your body.

at least, not until today…

‘Nope. Not going to do it,’ you tell yourself firmly and you feel your heart break a little. It’s hard to make peace with a man being so intimately close to your skin for that long. The mere thought of being held hostage under a tattoo needle with no possibility of escape was nerve-wracking.

Not worth it.

Finally locking your phone and rolling over to sleep, your mind replays images in your head. Striking colors… Impressive linework… unique designs.

His art is immaculate. You need it on your skin.

‘Sleep,’ you tell yourself. It is unwise to make a decision when you are this fatigued. But seconds turn into minutes, and minutes turn into an hour and you are still thinking about all the tattoos that you want.

He could pull them off.

You curse silently and grab your phone to open Instagram and request a consultation. That first tattoo with the shitty artist that was obsessed with your tits had faded pathetically and you needed it touched up. Perhaps a quick refresh with him would give you insight to his character and you’d feel more comfortable sitting down for a longer session with him later?

You feel the excitement begin to bubble. If this goes well, you can finally start your dream sleeve.

The nervous energy was practically rolling off your body in waves. You aren’t exactly a stranger to the process but still. A thorough shower, copious amounts of deodorant, perfume, and of course… skin prep. You’ve had such good results after applying hyaluronic acid and lidocaine to the area you would be getting tatted and today would be no different as you carefully rub product into your skin.

Did you smell pleasant enough to be around?

Your last tattoo artist was nice, but you could tell she skipped the shower the night before and she needed it. It was an unpleasant hour.

You wouldn’t dare to be late to an appointment out of respect for the artist’s time, so you gargle your mouthwash on the way out to your car.

The studio is so close, it only takes about 3 minutes for you to arrive and the nervous energy still radiates off you.

Blood and Ink- The name of the studio is etched into the glass door and you take a deep breath before entering to find an empty reception desk. 3 people pop up from their cubbies to study you and you realize you have no idea what Rafayel looks like.

“I… I am looking for Rafayel.”

A man with large gauges in his ears and filed teeth smiles slyly at you.

“Raf isn’t here today, but I’d be more than happy to help you, sweetheart.”

One of the other heads to pop up belongs to a very sweet looking girl who rolls her eyes and walks out of her cubby to approach you.

“Hi, I’m Pepper. Ignore Tony. He is a douche.” Tony whines in protest, but you get the feeling Pepper isn’t wrong about him. “Rafayel is in the back, sanitizing his station. Follow me.”

Rounding the corner, you spot horned headphones nestled in purple hair and pause.

Is that Rafayel?

You weren’t expecting him to be so striking. How can eyes be rosy and blue at the same time? You wonder silently, studying him carefully as he continues to diligently prep his work station

You never really knew what to expect when meeting the artists working on your body, but Rafayel was... elegant in his self-expression. A glint of gold catches your eye and you see the thin lip ring threaded through his lariat piercing. His ears are gauged with small plugs made of real and beautiful amethyst. The grace in his movement is enough to make time stop and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

The movement of his hands catch your attention and the tattoos on his fingers strike you. The fine line work was sophisticated and the subtle switch from solid lines to clustered dots in areas like knuckles where skin can crease shows you that he knows the way that tattoos heal and fade. And finally, he realizes you exist. He pauses before he glances up at you, pulling his headphones off his ears and standing up straight.

“Thank you, Pepper.” Pepper happily chirps that it was her pleasure before bouncing away adorably and Rafayel finally looks at you. “You must be my 1 PM appointment? Tattoo refresh? I’m Rafayel. Have a seat.”

Vibrant colors peek out from under his asymmetrical collar, but not nearly enough for you to be able to make out what hides underneath his dark blouse. His shaggy purple hair nearly covers the fish tatted behind his ears, one red, one blue, both simple and gorgeous.

“Where should I put my things,” You ask as you take a seat carefully.

“Hm?” Rafayel pulls his seat closer to get a good look at you and the aroma of his shampoo invades your nostrils. He smells like vanilla and sea minerals and you almost forget what question you were asked when he answers. “Oh, yes. Sorry. You can place your belonging on the side table behind you. And thank you for asking. I can’t tell you how many times someone comes here and throws their phone and keys on the sanitized work station with my needles and ink.”

“That would suck. Its not my first rodeo. I know the drill.” You reach back and set your bag down, grabbing your phone and earbuds, just in case you need something to help you occupy your mind.

“Alright. So the tattoo on your ribcage…” You wore a crop top to make it easier to be worked on and Rafayel leans in to look at the faded tattoo in question.

“Okay, to review your online consultation, you want the color refreshed, and to add a little extra flair. And from the mock ups, you wanted option B. Add more florals?”

“Yeah, the quick sketch you did was simple but lovely.” You were surprised by how quickly Rafayel took the picture of your tattoo and added more sophisticated detail.

“Alright. For the flowers that you have right now, what were their original colors?”

“Pink petals and a yellow pistil.” Your response makes Rafayel grimace.

“I can’t even tell, by looking at it. These colors have almost completely faded. Are those the colors you wanted to stick with?”

Your mind goes blank. Since you were just coming in for a refresh, you hadn’t considered making a color change.

“Oh, I… I’m not sure. Looking at you, it seems like you are good at putting together a cohesive look.” Rafayel perks in response. “I’m open to suggestions.”

He grabs his phone and pulls up a few images.

“Its called a burning ember lily,” he turn the phone and your jaw nearly drops. Dark purple petals are lined in vibrant oranges and yellows and the center practically glows with red and orange hues. “Your skin tone is kinda perfect for it.”

“Yes! I’m excited!”

Rafayel nods, a hint of a smile plays on his lips.

“Alright. Have you applied anything to your skin recently?” He examines your tattoo a little bit closer.

“Hyaluronic acid and 4% Lidocaine.” Rafayel’s nose scrunches in concern.

“Some skin type become too soft and difficult to get precise linework when lidocaine is applied. Is it okay if I touch your skin around the tattoo area for a moment? I need to see if your texture was affected.”

You nod and Rafayel carefully feels and stretches the skin on your ribs, looking closer to see how you are affected. “Hm. I don’t see anything of notable concern. However, if I do notice that it is an issue moving forward, we may have to stop and try again later.”

“I totally get it. But the lidocaine didn’t impact the quality of my last two tattoos, so I think we will be okay.”

You point at 2 other small tattoos. 1 on your collar and one on your shoulder and he breathes a small sigh of relief.

“That makes me feel better.” He rises to apply the stencil and when you give him your approval he washes his hands and pulls on gloves.

“Alright. Just wanted to let you know, I will be recoloring the tattoo in full, which means that it will be like getting the full thing all over again, just like the first time. Otherwise, the faded ink will be obvious.”

You nod. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

“Alright, you ready?” Rafayel checks in one more time and you give him permission. The needle comes into contact with your skin, and although its uncomfortable, its not unbearable like the first time.

“You good?” he asks, politely checking in and you nod, popping your ear buds in and selecting a playlist to help you vibe for the next 2 hours.

Rafayel works mostly in silence, occasionally checking in to make sure you are okay. And honestly you are. Ribs are supposed to be extremely painful to tattoo and your first experience hurt quite a bit. A nagging feeling in the back of your head screams that the tattoo may come out poorly because he is too light handed. But you remind yourself that you applied lidocaine and your first artist fell very short of professional and was likely very heavy handed.

You hear him speak, just barely through the music and you take one earbud out. “I’m sorry. What was that?” you ask, having not been able to hear him over your music.

“Oh, nothing. Just a comment. Your skin absorbs ink well. Makes a nice canvas. Doesn’t make sense how faded this tattoo is.”

Oh.

“Yeah. I get that from every artist.” Rafayel simply nods and continues his work.

Your earbuds go back into your ears for almost the whole appointment. Despite the slight discomfort of the needle, you find yourself drifting off.

The buzz of the needle stops and you see a hand wave in front of your face.

“Yeah?” You pull your earbud out again and blink the sleep out of your eyes.

“We are about an hour in. You good? Don’t have the shakes or anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. Honestly just sleepy.” You rub your eyes and yawn, causing Rafayel to yawn in response.

“Oh, God. Don’t do that.” He can’t help but yawn again, his eyes watering and with gloves still on, he can’t wipe the tear forming in his eye.

Without thinking you grab a tissue and blot the moisture away and he chuckles softly.

“That was very helpful. Thank you. You sure you don’t need juice or a bathroom break?”

You shake your head and lean back.

Rafayel nods his head and looks back at your ribs. “This looks like may 40 more minutes of work left. You let me know if you need to take a break, okay?”

The needle buzzes back to life and you find that the vibration against your skin makes it easier for you to drift back to near slumber even if it stings a bit. The songs you enjoy playing one right after the other until a gentle pat on the shoulder make you jolt awake.

You really did fall asleep.

“Its not often people fall asleep in the chair. You are all done. Want to take a look in the mirror?”

Rafayel flashes you a polite smile and carefully walks you to the mirror. It wasn’t uncommon for people to pass out after a tattoo and you could tell that he was weary, stance ready to catch you if you fell.

The world comes to a halt, however as you stand in the mirror, a half dozen flowers surrounding the Kanji for “Love” on your ribs and it looks like they are made of fire on the cusp of dying out and being swallowed by the darkness.

“So… Kanji for love? Let me guess. You were crazy about Gaara?”

You laugh a bit, still admiring the tattoo in the mirror. “That obvious, huh?”

He nods, smiling a bit sheepishly. “Can’t say I blame you though.” He lifts his blouse a bit, revealing the same kanji on his hip albeit, a lot smaller than yours. “Gaara is pretty cool after all.”

He leans in to apply saniderm to your skin. “Do you like it? The new look, I mean.”

“Love it!” You say with enthusiasm and you mean it. The experience was comfortable and the tattoo was stunning.

“Too bad it was a small tattoo. Your skin is like the perfect canvas for ink.”

“Oh, I’d like to get some larger ones. I’m thinking about a ½ or ¾ sleeve.” You pull your pinterest board up with the inspiration photos of all the artists you admire.

Rafayel scrolls through, becoming completely engrossed in your phone.

“No black lining?” He observes with peaked interest.

“I want my lining in vivid colors.”

For the first time he really looks at you, making direct eye contact. His nostrils flare and pupils dilate.

“Please,” he pleads quietly, voice a touch huskier. “Please let me.”

You got him. Hook, line a sinker.

Your last tattoo appointment was 4 weeks ago. Rafayel gave you his cell phone number and requested that you send him your pinterest board so that he could study the art you were interested in. At first, the texts were only about the potential work for your sleeve.

Rafayel asked clarifying questions. What about each artist signature style did you like so much? What did you want incorporated into your tattoo? What did you dislike about the tattoos you pinned?

You took a moment to gush about what you liked about Rafayel’s work and what you would really like to combine from everything you pinned and that’s when the conversation really started to change.

“That’s sweet… but really, these artists are inspired. This Pikkaman account? The patterns in their color blocks? This is the kinda linework that will take hours and hours. Multiple sessions. I’ve never even thought to do something like this. I’m excited to incorporate this into your tattoo somewhere.” You read his text over and over. It was the first thing he sent you with extra enthusiasm.

Texts went from every couple of days to discuss the piece to every day. He'd send updates on possible design ideas and when you’d gush, short conversations drew out to longer ones and before you knew it, joking around with each other just became a regular part of your conversations.

“There is so much detail going into this piece, we are probably look at a minimum of 14 hours. Maybe even as much as 16,” he warns, but somehow that makes you feel good.

Then about a week before your appointment, he finalized your design. You thought maybe that was the end of the daily back and forth and the following day, you got nothing. It was genuinely a bit disappointing and you hadn’t realized that you’d become accustomed to his humor.

One day of silence became two, and your fingers itched to send him something. Anything to get the conversation going again.

‘He is just your tattoo artist… not your friend,’ you remind yourself, gritting your teeth as you try to force yourself to focus on something else.

Day 3 of silence. You remind yourself this relationship is strictly transactional when your phone dings.

“How is your tattoo? Healing well? Colors still vivid?”

You read and reread the text preview, carefully avoiding sending the read receipt. You don’t want to seem too eager.

‘He is only asking out of professional interest. He isn’t just trying to talk to you,’ you tell yourself even as that itch in your brain reminds you that you’ve been under the needle 5 other times and none of those artists ever texted or called for a follow up to check on your healing process.

“Tattoo is healing very nicely!” you text back 15 minutes later, hoping you waited long enough to not seem obsessed.

Rafayel is beautiful. You don’t want to fangirl like the rest of the people in his life probably do.

The day of your appointment come and Rafayel looks different. Eager and with a smile on his face. He greets you at the door, walking you over to his cubby.

His work station is already ready, and you open your bag and put it on the the little side table meant for you.

“I see you are getting prepped too?” There is obvious amusement in his voice as you line up battery packs for your devices, snacks, and pull out a giant water bottle to keep yourself hydrate. “We kinda have a rule. Person getting the longest tattoo has the right to pick the soundtrack. You can connect your Bluetooth to the speakers. Everyone can jam with you.”

“In that case, I apologize ahead of time for all the kpop and complete unconnected themes and genres.” You smile sheepishly as you connect to Bluetooth and TROT music immediately starts playing.

“Seriously? Trot?” Rafayel pauses and chuckles a bit. “I’ll try not to judge.”

“Sorry, this is what I was playing for my mom last night.”

“Ah, that makes more sense.” Rafayel happily hums as he applied the stencil to your skin.

“You seem different today,” you blurt out without thinking. “I mean, last time I saw you, you were reserved and more focused.”

You study him more. Today his arms are exposed in a tank top, and you can see more of his tattoos. Only one arm has a half sleeve of flaming sharks in brilliant pinks and purples and you can tell he hits the gym, despite his slender frame.

“You’re right. It’s the medication.” Your eyes shift from the stencil back to him. “I have mad ADHD. On days where I am doing smaller, simpler tattoos, I need help locking in for the day so I take my Adderall. On days like today, these big projects are enough dopamine to fuel me.”

He whistles cheerfully after being given the green light, the tattoo gun buzzing against your arm. And when you finally switch to a better playlist, he smiles.

“God, that’s better. Gangsta’s Paradise. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Strong start, I admit. But expect disappointment from here.” You honestly are quite self-conscious about your playlist, but Harry Styles starts to play a few minutes later and someone on the other side of the studio starts crooning along with “A Sign of the Times” and you start to feel more at ease.

The needle continues to stamp your skin in vivid colors and you want so badly to watch the beautiful man next to you do his job, but you also don’t want to stare, so your eyes close. He changed shampoos, and he smells clean with a hint of citrus.

“So I have something to confess.” Rafayel dips the tattoo needle back into the ink. “I snooped the rest of your pinterest so I could learn a bit about you. Hope that doesn’t across as creepy.”

Huh?

“Oh… well I guess I did give you the link for it. What did you learn?” You stomp down the small part of you that is pleased he had a desire to learn more about you.

“I won’t reveal all my cards at once. Just figured you are going to be in the chair for a long time today. Maybe a few discussion points might help the time go by for both of us.”

You open one eye just a bit and peek over at him. “You still haven’t told me any of what you learned.”

He smiles at you mischievously. “I learned you are a giant nerd.”

“Gee… Thanks?” You deadpan, raising a brow.

Rafayel barely looks up from his work, but you don’t miss the way the corners of his mouth twitch. “Oh god, don’t pout at me like that.”

Your breath stalls. Pouting?

Heat prickles at the back of your neck as you scramble to smooth your expression, but it’s too late. His smirk is already there, teasing.

“Don’t take it the wrong way. I like it. I’m not going to feed that you that cheesy, ‘you are not like other girls’ line. But I will say, I was happy to learn we’d have something to talk about.”

Is he trying to hit on you?

“Alright then. Topic number one?”

“Hold still for me.” Rafayel carefully focuses on his linework. “Doctor Who?”

“Oh god. You did a deep dive?”

Rafayel smirks. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, I guess not. But I kinda tapped out mid-Peter Capaldi. His arc was a bit too intense for me.”

You look over, but Raf’s eyes are hidden by purple hair as he concentrates on his line work.

“I gotta admit, I watched a little bit. But that’s because a couple people came in asking for Galifreyan tattoos and when I looked them up, they looked really cool.”

What did you think?” The tattoo needle is now going over a sensitive and it doesn’t feel great, so you try to lose yourself in the conversation.

“Intense… but David Tennant is really hot.”

It makes you laugh hard enough that Rafayel has to stop and pull the needle back.

“Yes… he is indeed.”

Unmedicated Rafayel was shockingly easy to talk to. You were already 2 hours into your 10-hour session when Rafayel forces you to take your first break. A snack, some juice and a potty break later, and you were back in the chair for round.

“Alright. Time for conversation starter number 2.” He was already calming your nerves, eyes once again focused on your tattoo and you watch his beautiful rosy and blue eyes dart around your skin to check his work. “You are into local travel…”

“Oh yeah! I love taking road trips. I’m practically out of town every time I get 2 or more days off in a row.”

“Yeah, I noticed you pinned a whole bunch of places that were 4-hour drive or less. Which destination was your favorite?”

You take a second to ponder. “Honestly, that really depends on the mood I’m in. But I just went to Dripping Pool. You go spelunking through a cave until you find an opening that drips beautiful blue water into a freshwater pool.”

Rafayel’s eye flash briefly with interest before he looks back down at his work. “I’ve always wanted to go, but I can’t seem to stop working… But I think I will go to hill country and try out one of those wineries you pinned first. Which one was your favorite?”

“Oh… those are really more… romantic weekends. I guess I was saving that for when romance actually happens for me.”

You see Rafayel freeze and look up at you. “Oh. I thought you were engaged or married.”

Huh?

“You’ve got a wedding board. Cute shit, I’m not gonna lie,” he explains, and attempts to casually switch back to his work.

Ah. The wedding that never happened. The engagement ring that ended up in the trash.

“Yeah. Long story. Short version? We weren’t right for each other.”

You can see him nod from your peripherals. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Don’t be,” you answer quickly. “If it went through, I’d be miserable.”

“Eyyy! Positive spin. I like that. How long ago was that? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You groan internally. “It’s been 5 years.”

“5 years?” You can feel his breath on your skin and you don’t like what it makes you feel even as the conversation gets awkward. “Any movement in the past 5 years?”

“Nothing worth talking about.”

“Tch. A cutie like you with interesting hobbies? That’s a shame. I’m sorry men universally suck.” He earns a rich chuckle from you, but internally you panic.

“I mean, I guess I could take that as a compliment.”

His eyes flick up to yours, glinting with mischief. “You should.”

You gulp quietly, breath hitching and you pray he doesn’t notice. God, you are in trouble and you know it.

Rafayel continues focusing on his work. Despite him making it very clear that he found you interesting, the rest of the conversation lulls you into a sense of familiarity and comfort.

The hours stretch on, filled with a mix of banter, musical debate, and comfortable silence. At some point, you lose track of time, lulled by the rhythmic buzz of the tattoo gun and the occasional brush of his fingers against your skin as he works. The shop assistant, Pepper, adorable butterfly that she is, keeps popping in to take pictures and videos and gush over the progress made.

Perhaps the lack of warmth through clinical gloves brought you back down to earth, but you’ve convinced yourself that this isn’t going anywhere.

“Almost done,” Rafayel murmurs, his voice lower, rougher from hours of focus. He swipes one final stroke, then leans back, appraising his work.

You let out a slow breath, relief and exhaustion settling into your bones. “That was—”

“Brutal?” he guesses, smirking as he grabs a clean cloth.

“Something like that,” you admit, stretching your limbs to shake off the stiffness.

He wipes your arm down, a satisfied smile on his face and he looks at with a hint of excitement. “I know we’ve got another 6-hour session to go before its complete, but it looks pretty fantastic already.”

He pulls away, stripping off the gloves with a snap. “Alright, moment of truth,” he says, nodding toward the mirror.

Really, it is the moment you’ve been dying for. And when you stand in front of the mirror, you audibly gasp.

Dopamine in vivid colors delivered straight to your eyeballs makes you pause.

An Elephant lined in neons with long, hot pink eyelashes, its legs covered in geometrical patterns stares at you. The blank spaces will be filled later, but you already know you will love it.

“I…”

“Love it?” Rafayel sits behind you with a tired, yet satisfied smile. “Hate it? Don’t know how to feel about it?”

You look at yourself in the mirror again. The smile on your face makes you feel stupid but you can’t help it. You can’t school your features and make it go away.

“I respect you. You are incredibly talented.”

Rosy and blue eyes go blank for a second before Rafayel covers his face.

“Fuuuuuck. I wasn’t- Why does it feel like I’m blushing?”

You wish you were the girl that could smile tauntingly as you reduce a man to whatever state Rafayel was in now. But instead, you blush with him, covering your mouth as Rafayel hangs his head. You were alone now. The studio had emptied a while ago and this was becoming dangerously intimate.

“Alright, cutie. Let me get the saniderm and get you out of here.”

Cutie. God, the way it rolls off his tongue so naturally and makes your heart flutter is not good for your health.

He takes his time applying the saniderm with care and when he is done, he admires his handiwork.

“I seriously can’t wait until your tat is done. I’m going to post it on all my platforms the moment we get you cleaned up next session.”

And there he goes making you blush again as he traces the lining of the tattoo over the saniderm gently with his thumb.

He mutters something about walking you to your car because it’s dark as you pack your things, but when you stand, your body betrays you.

A wave of lightheadedness washes over you, and your vision tilts at the edges. You barely manage to step back before the floor shifts under your feet.

“Whoa—hey.” Rafayel’s hands are on you before you can even blink, steadying you by the waist. His grip is firm but careful.

He guides you back to a seated position and looks you in the eyes. “Your eyes are glazed over. You need some sugar.”

He jogs off to the refrigerator and comes back with an orange juice that you sip through your embarrassment before you start to feel better.

“I think it goes without saying that I can’t let you drive home without worrying.” Those pretty rosy and blue eyes hold genuine concern and the strong, independent woman you are forced to be melts under his gaze. “I’ll drive you home.”

Your stomach flips. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he counters easily, reaching for his keys. “I want to.”

Something about the way he says it—no hesitation, no teasing—leaves you momentarily speechless. So… you let him.

For once, letting someone take care of you doesn’t feel like a mistake.

It’s all the little things that add up to more. His arm remains around you for support as he walks you to the car and helps you sit down carefully in the passenger seat before handing you the car key and telling you to keep the door locked as he locks the studio. It’s the fact that he kept the lights on as he walked you to safety and ran back to turn them off before locking up. It’s the fact that he shone a light into your car windows and made sure nothing valuable was visible before he hopped in the car to drive you home.

It’s the smile on his face as he looks in to check on you before turning the ignition and asking if you are feeling better. He is doing a lot of things right and you resolve to go for it when you have the chance.

He hands you his phone to plug in your address.

“Wow. A whole 3-minute drive. How inconvenient.”

You huff in amusement. “Just say you want to spend more time with me and take the scenic way home.”

He playfully checks the gps. “The scenic way is 5 minutes long.”

The play feels so easy and you push his arm.

“No, but really, I was hoping I could make an excuse to get something in your stomach. Lunch was 7 hours ago.”

Oh?

“Planning to feed me? Do you do that for all your clients?”

Rafayel looks at you seriously. “No. But I think you and I are both leaning towards this becoming bigger than artist and client.”

Your fingers tighten around your phone. That fluttery, dangerous warmth in your chest spreads, and it won’t go away.

You are in trouble.

But something about Rafayel is different than all the other men in your life. The guarded back and forth and coy banter doesn’t feel necessary when he communicates directly and makes you feel safe.

So, you reach out, fingers threading into his. He stills, eyes flicking to where your hand rests before meeting your gaze again.

“Take me to get food,” you say, voice softer now, steady. “Then take me home.”

Rafayel watches you for a beat longer, as if committing this moment to memory, before he shifts into drive.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, the corners of his mouth twitching into something almost boyish. “I can do that.”

At 10 PM there aren’t a lot of options, but there is a Columbian food truck that definitely caters to the drunks and munchies. Rafayel has never been. So, when your hot dogs come out covered in 3 different types of sauce, coleslaw, bacon and potato chips, he makes you laugh as he playfully shouts, “Oh, shit! There are potato chips on my hot dog?!”

One bite and his eyes widen, the sheer reverence in his expression, has you dissolving into laughter before he even swallows.

“Ohhh, okay,” he says, pointing at the hot dog like it just changed his life. “I get it now. This is genius.”

For someone who looks so elegantly put together, he rips into his late-night snack with enthusiasm. “Potato Chips! On my hot dog?!”

It makes him seem less perfect and more real. And for a moment, you are floating on a cloud, unable to shake the feeling that maybe this could be the beginning of something special.

Even better, the extra still in the details continues as he loops an arm around you and guides you back to his car, just in case you stumble.

Rafayel jokes once more that the commute is unbearably long, but the food truck is only 4 minutes from your front door and he grins as he helps you out of the car and walks you to your door.

“I guess this is goodnight, cutie. Is it okay if I call you tomorrow morning?” He takes a couple steps back as you punch your door code in.

A gentleman.

He doesn’t have to be one tonight.

Before he can retreat too far, you reach out and grab his wrist, pulling him back to you, erasing the distance he created to make you feel safe. His eyes darken, intensity flickering in those rose and blue hues as realization dawns.

“Rafayel… it’d be weird calling me from the same bed.”

He throws his head back in disbelief, cursing under his breath before biting his lip.

“You are bolder than I thought.” He exhales slowly, voice deeper with a hint of something almost dangerous. Strong hands grip your waist tightly and he pulls you flush against him.

“Maybe I should be bold, too?”

Yes!

His lips descend, crashing into yours, the cold press of his lip ring making you want wild things and you bite around it. He exhales sharply, groaning, tilting your chin so that he can kiss you deeper before his hands roam your body.

Hands everywhere. Lips wherever they find skin. He presses you into your door and the door swings open behind you.

You pull him through your threshold, lips still attached to his when he stops you.

You won’t let him stop you.

“Cutie…” He gasps, breath ragged as you kiss a trail down his neck. You hum in acknowledgement as your fingers grip his hairs and just slightly pull his head back to expose more of him under your lips.

He groans as he grips the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

“God I don’t want to stop you, but…” You nibble firmly at the base of his throat.

“Fuck…” he curses and his hands abandon the door frame to clutch you against him once more.

“I’m listening,” you murmur as your lips travel to the other side of his neck, your hand firmly cupping him through, pants causing him to buck.

“Protection,” he rasps through his excitement. “My condoms are in the car.

You groan heatedly against his skin. “Hurry.”

You don’t have to say it twice. He bolts, grabbing an unopened 12 pack from his glove compartment and in seconds he slams and locks the door shut behind him, and kicks off his shoes before carrying you to the couch.

His lips are all over you, urgently kissing every expanse of bare skin he can find, his lip ring adding contrast and making you quiver.

“Glad it’s a 12 pack,” you groan as he covers your body with his. “We will be going through most of them tonight.”

“God, cutie. The things you say.” He tears the box, grabbing a condom and unzipping his pants. “I hope you make good on your promises, because I can, and I will.”

“Need… need to take my pants off,” you huff.

Rafayel leans back, settling onto the couch, watching as you stand and strip—quick, unceremonious, kicking your clothes aside.

“God, you are hot…” He whispers reverently, a blush burning across his skin as his gaze darkens intensely, kicking his own pants off. You stare as he rolls the condom on, eye contact intense and exuding confidence.

He knows he is packing.

He leans back with a smirk before finally pulling his tank top off and now you understand why it’s the last thing he kept on.

Dopamine in vivid colors delivered straight to your eyeballs makes you pause.

His chest is covered in a sea scape of corals and clown fish. Vibrant cobalts, radiant beams of light. Your eyes dart around, drinking the details of his skin. His muscled physique you must touch.

Nipple piercings that you have to taste.

He tries to pull you back under him, but you push him back down into his seated position, tongue tracing each piercing as he moans, encouraging you to be bolder. Licking turns into sucking, sucking turns into biting. And the more it escalates, the more wanton Rafayel’s moans become as his hips buck into air, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

He looks so pretty and fuckable underneath you as he gasps, somehow even pinker than he was a minute ago.

“Cutie, please,” he begs underneath you. You never knew you’d love hearing a man beg, but Rafayel looks so pretty when he is desperate. You straddle him, guiding him to your entrance with one hand and grasping the long hair at the base of his neck with the other.

“Say please again,” you order, and he bucks, cock slipping in just barely as you pull your hips up to deny him.

His hands grip your hips tightly and he whimpers.

“Please.”

Good Boy.He gasps, throwing his head back into the couch cushions as your hips sink down and you stretch wide open to accommodate him.

He is so expressive.

So pretty.

You can’t. God, you wanted to power-fuck yourself on his cock, but FUCK! He’s big. A whimper escapes you as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing through the intensity.

“Fuck. Oh fuck, cutie. You feel so good.” His hands caress the small of your back as you adjust to his size and whimper pathetically.

“Raf… oh… ohh!” Even the slightest hint of movement is enough to make you tremble. He fills you so perfectly its almost too much, and you take several deep breaths to calm as he kisses your temple.

You weren’t going to last.

But you sure as hell were going to try.

Your hips begin to move and instantly his hands tighten clamping your waist and you hear him whimper.

Good. He won’t last either.

“I have no fucking clue how you were single when you walked through my door,” He whispers reverently. “But I will thank every God created by man that you are on my cock right now.”

And reverence is how he earns the power ride of his life. You plant your feet beneath his thighs, gripping the couch frame behind his head for leverage.

Your hips fly.

“Holy shit!” His voice cracks as your pussy slams down onto him, the impact pulling an obscene moan from his throat. For a moment, he forgets what to do with his hands, palms abandoning your waist to cup your breasts, then sliding up to tangle in your hair as he crushes your lips against his.

Then one hand wraps around your throat. You gasp, and it only makes him groan, the other hand back on your waist as he matches your pace, thrusting up into you, reckless, desperate.

You aren’t faring much better, his size making the stroke against your clit feel red hot. And when he starts to match your pace, thrusting upwards, a continous, high pitched, pathetic whimper escaping you.

Your ceaseless whimpering nearly drowns him out, but you hear it, sexy and desperate in a lower register.

This man will break you.

This man will ruin you.

“So close,” he cries when his thumb finds and circles your clit, pressing down firmly to draw sure, relentless circles.

You can’t control the visceral shriek that erupts from you as he forces your climax to a head, pussy throbbing and legs weak. You feel the rapid fire pulsing between your legs, blood pounding in your veins, pleasure making you twitch.

“FUCK! RAFAYEL! OH, FUCK!”

He sits up, face buried in your chest as he holds you as tight as possible and a handful of powerful thrusts upwards leads to his demise. He shudders, moaning your name as he comes.

A moment ago, your home was so loud, but now, he holds you quietly, kissing across your chest in an act of thankfulness as you pant. Sweat soaking your forehead makes your hair cling to your face and your mind whirls in disbelief.

“Is this real life?”

Rafayel chuckles against your skin between kisses and nibbles on your collar bone that make you shiver.

“I hope so.”

He arms circle to hold you tightly, the same way he did when he came and he begins to thrust upwards slowly, cock stirring back to life.

"You have got to be kidding," you gasp as he flips you onto your back.

“When I said I can and I will, I meant it, cutie.” His eyes go dark as he stares down at you. “I can go all night.”

His smile is devilish, giving you chills as he hooks your legs over his arms folding you into a mating press.

“One day, I’m going to breed you.”

Oh, fuck.

“But for now, I’m going to practice.”

He wants to wreck you the same way you destroyed him. It makes you whimper in anticipation before his hips begin to piston into you like a well-oiled machine. He rips scream after scream from your throat and you are certain you’ve never been louder.

“Yeah, cutie,” he grunts with a look of satisfaction. “Make those noises for me.”

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK 

His hips are relentless, punching the air right out of your lungs, the smirk on his face ever-present as he gives you twice what you gave him.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK 

The further back he pushes you into the couch, the deeper he drives into you and he won’t yield.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK 

He grunts through direct eye contact.

"Take it. Take my cock."

You don’t want him to yield.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK 

He fucks you like a fevered dream, dominating your pussy with no end in sight.

“Raf-!” There’s no air left in your lungs to announce your orgasm. Your vision whites out, your pussy clenches, and somehow… somehow you are screaming even louder.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK 

“I’m going to make you come again.”

God you need him to stop. Your nails bite desperately into his shoulders, but in a mating press there is no escape.

"Raf- fuck! Raf, I can't- FUUUCK!"

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK 

God you don’t want him to stop. The relentless pounding has stretched your orgasm into something dangerous and another more powerful wave curls your toes.

“AH! RAF!” And still, the air in your lungs does not exist, but you see that smirk disappear as your pussy squeezes tightly. You watch his mouth fall open, a string of curses flying from his lips before your vision goes white hot, coming in rounds of bursting fire.

Hot breath close to your ear huffs as you hear him grunt his release, chanting your name before struggling to safely remove himself from the tangle of limbs he created. You can finally breathe.

He collapses next to you, sounds of disbelief escape him as you desperately draw air. Pulling you closer he whispers, “I… cannot believe you let me fuck you like that.”

“Do it again,” you joke when you can finally speak and he barks out a laugh.

“Oh, I intend to.” He kisses you reverently once more. “Our chemistry is insane.”

“Off the charts,” You agree, offering a fist bump and he laughs as he reciprocates and pulls you close.

“We made a huge mess.”

He is right of course. The couch cushion is soaked from the deluge of your arousal and he gets up on shaky legs to dig around your kitchen for a clean towel. He turns the hot water on, tossing the condom and cleaning himself up.

“God I should have changed condoms. What a mess.” You are too tired to even be worried about it but he reappears, bowl and warm, wet towel in hand to clean up the mess he helped make between your legs. The kisses he gently presses against your thighs make you wonder what you did to get this lucky.

And when he was done, he reached for the box of condoms to pull out another.

“Tell me you are kidding, Raf…” You gasp, wanting to say yes and no at the same time.

He smiles mischievously at you. “I wasn’t lying, cutie. I can go all night.”

The sun is offensive as it invades you room through your curtains. Your body is sore all over and your bed is still warm but empty.

Once the confusion settles, you smile as you hear shuffling in your kitchen and smell the aroma of fresh coffee.

“Hey, cutie.” Your hero arrives moments later with caffeine you so desperately need. “I like your espresso machine.”

Your eyes aren’t ready to do their job yet, but you imagine him with tousled bed head and the love bites you left on his body. You sip your coffee and he sits on the bed, fingers combing through your hair.

“So I was thinking…” his voice is raspy from the noises you drew from him last night.

“Those wineries you pinned over in hill country?”

You crack one eye open and take a peek at him.

Dopamine in vivid colors delivered straight to your eyeballs makes you pause.

“Mm? What about them, sweetheart?” The pet name makes him smile like a goofball.

“Which one do you want to go to first? I'm free next weekend.”

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Strawberries and Cream

Paring: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Notes: 🎶 is that a baton in your pocket or are you just happy to see me🎶 please understand I’m gonna shoot myself in the face if I ever have to edit this chapter again it is what it ISSSSS

Episode 6: Blueberry Pie

This entire chapter be like

Eddie calls you around 10 pm, asking you to pick him up so he can take you somewhere special. He’s still got a day or two before he’s allowed to drive with his shoulder and you’ve been taking him everywhere lately, just to spend time together.

You show up a little after 10, he’s on his front porch, just chilling, waiting, playing some random game on his phone while he waits for you. 

“You’re late Sugar Cube,” He says as he pushes off the wall, walking to the Jeep

“It’s 10:04 you big baby” You stick your tongue out as he gets in, and he leans over and kisses it right back into your mouth 

“Are you always late?” He buckles his seatbelt and watches you blink slowly, processing what just happened 

“Huh?”

“I said,” He kisses you again, a little slower this time

“Are you always late?”

“Ehh??” You shrug, unable to form a sentence and he snorts, taking your phone from the stand and typing in an address for you

“I hope you don’t mind…” He holds up a pink pouch “I bought you a little something” 

He won’t tell you what it is, or where you’re going. He just keeps ignoring those questions and asks you some instead. How was your day? What did you do? Did you miss me? Little things but it’s cute the way he’s interested in these things 

You pull up in front of a large house, the lights are off. You shut off the car and look through the windshield 

“What are we doing here? Are you gonna kidnap me??”

“Yeah I made you drive Buck’s Jeep to my super secret kidnapping hideout” He gets out of the Jeep and comes around to your side, opening the door for you. You hesitantly hop out, narrowing your eyes at him 

“I have friends okay? They’re out of town and they asked me to housesit. Said I could use whatever I wanted… that includes the pool and hot tub”

“We’re going swimming?! Night swimming!? That’s the best kind of swimming!!” You squeal excitedly as he brings you inside. 

It’s a very nice place, these people clearly have money. He brings you to the pool house, handing you the little pink pouch 

“I bought you a new swimsuit… I hope you like it. Buck sent me the size of the one you have now. I hope that’s alright with you”

“A new swimsuit? You didn’t have to do that I have a perfectly good one” You take the bag from him, opening it up to peek inside 

“I know, but I just really wanted to… I wanted to see you in this. If you’re uncomfortable in it I’ll just give you my shirt okay? That’s always an option”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sure I’ll love it. Or you know, absolutely hate your guts for it, who knows!” 

He rolls his eyes at your sarcasm and flicks you off

“You change in there, I’ll be on the other side” He shuts the curtain and goes into the little cubicle next to you to change too

You pull the swimsuit from the bag, and honestly? It’s not that bad. It’s a pretty, black, two-piece with the sides cut out on the bottoms and ties and a short-sleeved low-cut top. You’re pretty sure he wanted those sides on purpose just to be able to feel you up.  

He lets out a low whistle as soon as you walk out and you roll your eyes, doing a little spin 

“How do I look?” 

“Good enough to eat” He winks and takes your hand, leading you over to the pool. You step back a little, letting go of his hand as he walks in, he goes under for a minute, swimming out a bit before coming back up

“Aren’t you coming?” He tilts his head, and you shrug a bit

“Awww what’s wrong pretty girl, don’t wanna get wet?”

You cross your arms over your chest “No…no it’s not that!”

“So what is it?” 

You roll your eyes, looking down, and shrug “I can’t… I can’t swim” You mumble 

“Don’t worry about that, mi vida. C’mon the waters warm” Eddie reaches for your hands, water droplets flowing down his body. His gorgeous…sculpted-

“Earth to Y/N. Come on. I’ll hold you” Eddie smirks as you step down into the water, the water is warm and you narrow your eyes at him

“You know the pool chemicals will tell me if you peed” 

His head falls back laughing as he pulls you into his chest, floating backward with you in his arms

“That’s so childish oh my god” 

His body feels good against yours, your arms wrap around his neck and you bury your face in his shoulder. He runs his hands down your bare sides and squeezes your hips. You feel his hands slide over your ass and your breath hitches in your throat

“See? Safe and sound…” He says quietly, nuzzling against you “And I didn’t freaking pee”

You snort into his shoulder and push at him “You’re so annoying oh my god”

“You literally started it!” He gives your ass a swat and your mouth drops open. Ever since the beach…and the drive-in, he’s been openly affectionate with you, there are no labels yet. For you two at least. Buck however is losing his mind every single second of every single day. 

He nuzzles into your neck again, his favorite thing to do. You smell like summer and strawberries and he’s addicted to it 

He carefully lets you go, holding you by your hands and pulling you slowly around the pool. You let him drag you through the water and he goes a little deeper. He pulls you closer, his hands firmly planted on your waist and your hands on his shoulders

“I could teach you to swim,” He says, continuing to walk you around 

“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t have an excuse to hold me”

“Oh sweet girl, I don’t need an excuse to have my hands on you” 

He dips his head into yours, kissing you softly. He pulls away slowly, smirking at the little dazed smile on your face. 

“I don’t need an excuse to want to taste you either… just waiting for when you finally let me” 

“I let you kiss me all the time”

“That’s not what I’m saying” 

There’s a long pause while he stares directly into your eyes, he’s daring you. Practically begging you to take the bait, god it should be illegal for his voice to be that deep, that sultry when he’s saying things like this. His heart flutters at the way you swallow and your lips part, like you’re really considering it and he wants you to be considering it. He wants that pretty little head of yours to think about being with him like that

He walks backward until his back hits a wall and pulls you into his lap. Your legs automatically wrap around his waist and his hands settle on your ass

“Watcha thinkin' about” He grins wickedly and you roll your eyes 

“Nothin…” you feel shy in his lap, suddenly a little self-conscious.

Maybe a bikini wasn’t the best idea. And it had nothing to do with your image at the moment, you’d worn that with confidence

But right now? You wish you were wearing one of those old-timey dress-type bathing suits. His hands feel good, they’re strong and a bit calloused from work. His biceps are… something else as your hands rest on them for a moment. Every little thing about Eddie is driving you crazy right now, especially the way his hair curls a little when it’s wet. 

“Nothin'?” He mimics your voice and you frown at his teasing, he kisses your nose making you giggle 

“Come on… use your words, Princess” 

“God, do you really have to tease me that much?” 

“Do you not like it?” 

“I hate it!” You make a little face at him and he chuckles, nuzzling his nose against yours 

“Oh come on baby girl no you don’t” 

“Okay, I don’t… but can’t I be the one to make you nervous?”

“You do make me nervous Y/N” he scoffs, laughing.

“God since the minute I set eyes on you like two months ago…I can’t seem to do anything right. I literally had my shirt on backward the other day because you called me when I was getting dressed before work!” 

You giggle and run your fingers through the back of his hair as he talks, your cheeks flush and he sighs, leaning into your touch, his body glistening with water in the moonlight 

“I had to sign off on the chore sheet…and I wrote “Y/N Diaz” on it” 

He cringes at that one and you snort, shaking your head 

“Okay that one’s embarrassing”

“You know what was really embarrassing? When Chim found it in the trash and sent it to the group chat. God they still haven’t let me forget that and that was like a week ago or something” 

You feel a little bad, giggling at his cringy misfortune, but it feels good to know you make him just as nervous even if he doesn’t show it as much. Maybe it’s time to give him a little taste of his medicine. It had been a back-and-forth game the entire time you’d known each other and now it was your turn. 

His eyes are still closed and you take the opportunity to kiss him, he breaths out through his nose, laughing a little as he kisses you back, not bothering to open his eyes. 

You run your fingers through his wet curls, tugging his head backward to expose his neck 

“Thanks for bringing me here,” You say sweetly, and he opens one eye, peeking at you 

“We can come again tomorrow night if you want, make use of that hot tub” He moans softly as you kiss his neck, scraping your teeth against his soft skin 

“Yeah okay,” you whisper against his pulse point as you bite down. He hums pleasantly, kneading your hips with his hands, as you give him a necklace. His hands trail up and down your sides slowly as he relaxes into your kisses. He may be quiet on the outside, but you can feel just how much he likes this. 

“Can’t wait to go back to work, wear these with pride” He purrs, his voice gravely and deep. “Gonna wear my collar open just so they can see them” His breath hitches at the end of his sentence and he bounces you in his lap, thrusting his hips against you 

“You should stop” He whispers in your ear “Before I bend you over this pool wall”

Moving in with Eddie is something that’s been on your mind for days. You guys weren’t actually in a relationship yet… but all your stuff was there anyway

After your little hickey attack, he’d kept a small distance between the two of you as you both floated around, you pouted like a little brat and he laughed about it, cooing and teasing you. Eventually, he’d brought you back into his lap, squeezing you as tightly as he could until you laughed and smiled and told him to let you go before he crushed you. 

“I want to move in with you,” You say suddenly, your forehead against his now as you kiss him. Man, there’s a whole lotta kissing going on for just friends. 

“Three days at your place, three days at Buck’s, and alternating Sundays. When we get together maybe I’ll do four at your place. But I just. I need a home… and I’m ready for it to be with you. You know- sort of. 

“On one condition” He mutters against your lips, you can feel his moving with each word. 

“I want you to move into my room, please?” 

Your heart pounds in your chest, pulling back a little to look at him. He’s serious about it too. He tilts his head cutely…giving you those irresistible puppy eyes 

“Eddie…” you groan “I’m not-“

“You and Buck sleep together”

“We’re cousins!”

“And we’re friends!”

“What if I need space?!” You protest and he rolls his eyes. 

“Fine. You can move into the guest room,” He pecks your lips “But you sleep in my room-“ he pecks them again “With me” he kisses you a little slower this time, tasting the sweet summer strawberry he loves so much “-In my bed”

How can you possibly deny him when he’s kissing you like that?

You spend the rest of the time splashing and messing around in the pool, shushing each other loudly to avoid disturbing the neighbors  It doesn’t work. 

Eddie is launching you into the pool when the doorbell rings. You both freeze and Eddie gets out of the pool, pushing the button on the wall to open the side gates. You quietly “Ooooooo” him from the pool and he flips you off. 

Two police officers come around back and you shrink down a little, coming to the edge of the pool 

“Hi, I’m officer Nolan this is Officer Juarez. We got a noise complaint? Said the people living here are supposed to be out of town” 

Officer Nolan looks pale as he introduces them, it’s just a noise complaint… 

Eddie runs his hand through his wet hair and you get out of the pool now, walking over to your towels 

“Uh yeah, no uh, my friends let us use the pool I’m sorry, we didn’t realize how loud we were being” 

“Yeah we’re really sorry, we can leave now” You walk over, handing Eddie a towel and he takes it, giving your body a lingering look. Your cheeks flush and you roll your eyes, gesturing to the literal police officers in front of him 

“No that’s okay. We’re sorry for interrupting your night. It’s just your neighbors are old” Officer Juarez shrugs 

“Was it the Schumacher’s?” Eddie rolls his eyes 

“Actually we can’t-“

“Sure was,” Officer Juarez says, putting her hands on her hips and Eddie groans drying off his hair 

“My partner shouldn’t have told you that I apologize. But yes it was them and it would probably be helpful if you left… honestly we get a lot of noise complaints from them but since it was so late we decided to check it out” 

“They’ve done this before” Eddie sighs, turning away to collect your stuff 

“You’ve done this before?” You scoff a little “with who?”

“Oop” Officer Juarez whispers and Officer Nolan glares at her 

“No, no, no, baby I meant like. During the day, I’ve never brought anyone who wasn’t Buck and the team here before at night or any other time of the day, I swear. It’s just you Y/N. Not to mention Buck would totally tell on me if I was lying” 

You sigh and narrow your eyes, you totally believe him but you just want him to be a little nervous

“I promise” He pouts at you, with the sweetest face he can muster and you hear Officer Juarez's breath hitch 

“Oh god I know right” You say turning to her and she snorts 

You haven’t even left Eddie’s driveway before he’s immediately calling Buck. He slams the front door as you drive away and goes to his bedroom, crashing into bed. He doesn’t bother changing yet he’s too excited 

“Eddie? It’s like 1 am Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over?”

“No, no I’m okay. Thanks. I just needed to talk to you right away”

“Okay, yeah what’s up?” He can hear shuffling and a click as Buck sits up and turns on the light 

“Is Y/N sleeping over?”

“No she’s on her way home, I have to be quick. Buck- she’s moving in with me”

“She's moving in with you?!”

Buck screams into the phone and Eddie has to pull it from his ear for a minute as he squeals loudly. He shouldn’t have told Buck before you did but he’s his best friend and he had to tell someone before he burst. 

“Yeah, but just part time! She said she’d live with you the other days of the week but I’m totally going to convince her that staying with me is the best option. It’s gonna be so good” 

“Have you been by the pound lately?” 

“There’s a German Shepherd puppy!!” Eddie practically squeaks when he says it, kicking his legs as he lays in bed “He’s cute, he’s very sweet. He’s the perfect future, Captain Barkley Diaz”

“Aren’t you moving a little fast?”  

Eddie sends Buck a picture of the puppies listed on the humane society’s site

“Nope!” 

Buck laughs as he looks at the adorable little puppy. He scrolls through the other animals too 

“What about a rabbit? She loves rabbits”

“Why not both!” Eddie starts looking through the site again and Buck giggles 

“Eddie… you can’t just spring an animal on her”

“I won’t! I swear. We’ll go pick one together” he sighs dreamily “We’ll hold hands while she pulls me down the aisle looking at all the cute little dogs

Buck fake gags and rolls his eyes 

“Hey, maybe you should get an older dog! they deserve some love”

“Maybe even two dogs. That’s such a good idea!”

“Okay, not. Not two dogs Eddie” 

“But I want Captain-“

“Don’t say it”

“I want Captain Barkley Diaz to have a friend! Maybe I should see if there’s a dog park nearby…”

“Yeah see! He can make friends… oh my god I’m starting to agree with this. Eddie! You guys aren’t together yet and she’s only living there part-time you gotta rein it in!”

“I’m trying, Buck, I swear. But she’s all I can think about… I just. I want a life with her so badly”

“So why don’t you just freaking ask her out” he sounds so strained when he says it and Eddie chuckles 

“I’m working on it. I just… I’m gonna need some help” 

Eddie has no damn right looking that fine when he pulls up to the studio to help you move. It’s not like you even need that much help it’s just like three to five boxes. And with his shoulder, he technically shouldn’t even be helping. You finally got him to agree to be on team “folding” with Maddie 

He never comes empty-handed, he brought a cake this time. Strawberry cake with whipped frosting. 

“A cake?” Buck asks as he sets it on the counter 

“I was craving okay. Shut up, you know you’re gonna eat it all”

“You’re not wrong” 

He leads Eddie up to his bedroom where there’s a tiny mountain of clothes on the bed. You and Maddie are sorting through it, so they can be folded 

“Hey Sugar” He smiles, coming over and kissing your head before he plops on the bed. 

Admittedly you do stare at him, his tank top is flowy and lower than normal. He claims it’s his moving shirt. More like his porn star shirt  Okay, not really.

But his arms look so delicious in that tank top and you’re tempted to bite his bicep. Which is completely normal. 

“Mads” He winks and she smirks, tossing a shirt at him 

“Took you long enough, where have you been?” 

“Well I had to make sure the guest room was clean” He shrugs as he takes one of your mini skirts, looking at it.

“That room has been spotless and you know it. What were you really doing?” Buck narrows his eyes and Eddie glares at him 

“It’s a surprise alright?” 

You perk up immediately, looking over at him 

“Surprise? What kind of surprise?” 

“Oh god please tell me it’s not what I think it is. Eddie you promised!!” Buck whines as he puts a box together and throws it down the stairs 

“Oh my god, It’s not that. Shut up” he pulls out his phone and hands it to Buck, who snatches it from his hands 

“Oh my god… Eddieeee” He pretends to blink back tears “That’s so sweet!” 

“What’s so sweet?!” You try to reach for the phone and he holds it out of your reach

“No, you’re gonna ruin it!”

“Wait I wanna see!!” Buck hands Maddie the phone and you try to look over her shoulder 

“Uhhh that’s my property and I’m not comfortable with you looking?!” Eddie gestures awkwardly and your mouth drops open 

“That’s not fair!! Of course, I’m gonna respect your ass!”

Buck points at you, laughing “Ha!!! You’re the only one who can’t see it yet, sucker!! Eddie, I dare you to send it to the group chat”

“Bet”

“I’m already on it” Maddie sends the photo and you get up, throwing down the shirt you were holding 

“Oh come on!! I hate you guys!” 

“Awww don’t be like that Sugar cube I’m sure you’ll forget about it in like 10 minutes”

“She has ADHD so yeah I’m pretty sure she will too” Buck snickers as he tosses a pair of panties at Eddie. 

“Buck!!” You dive across the pile snatching them from Eddie’s hands and stuff them back into the pile closer to Maddie. Maddie puts her hand out in front of her, pushing herself up gingerly 

“I think she’s gonna cry” Buck snorts and Eddie can’t help but giggle with him. They sound like an older brother and his annoying friend. Buck might as well be your older brother at this point 

“I am not!!” You throw a skirt at him and he ducks, it knocks over an empty cup on his nightstand that falls and knocks over his AirPods. He gasps loudly, picking them up off the floor 

“Oh, you’re gonna get it!” He goes to dive for you and you squeal, stumbling backward off the bed 

“Alright okay!”Maddie yells and you and Buck freeze. 

“Since you want to be children. Buck and I are going downstairs, you and Eddie toss the clothes down to us okay? Okay. Buck, now.”

She walks past them down the stairs and Buck follows, sticking his tongue out while you flip off him and Eddie.

Eddie looks at you, putting his fingers up to his lips in a V shape and you throw a pair of pants at his head before he can finish his lewd gesture. Really you’ve got a whole arsenal here if he wants to be nasty. 

“You perv!” 

“I don’t see clothes coming down!” Maddie calls upstairs and Eddie laughs, grabbing your waist and yanking you into him, he nuzzles his face in your neck and takes a skirt, throwing it over the balcony 

“Sorry, Mom!” He yells down and you giggle in his arms trying to wriggle your way free 

“I swear to god if you guys have your first time in my bed I’m gonna cry happily but also slice Eddie’s balls off with my katanas”  You launch a few more clothes over the railing while Eddie kisses your neck 

“You have katanas?!” You yell, looking around for them 

“Yes, he does” Eddie whispers in your ear, his hands sliding up under your shirt. He feels over your torso as he nibbles your ear and you whimper quietly. One of his hands comes up and covers your mouth, keeping you quiet 

Suddenly that little promise he made in the rain pops into your head and your eyes nearly pop out of your head 

“Of course I do! They’re super sweet I’ll show them to you later! Maybe we can fight with them!”

“Absolutely not” Maddie immediately vetoes it, and Buck whines. 

Upstairs, Eddie’s busy kissing your neck and handing you clothes to toss over the balcony. His hand slides from your torso down to the top of your pink sweatpants. He toys with the drawstring and your heart pounds in your chest 

His fingers slip under the top of your waistband and you freeze in his lap, as his fingers slide down over the front of your panties and tease your clit like that, you gasp quietly and he smirks, putting his head on yours. 

“Be a good girl and keep your mouth shut” He whispers in your ear as he pushes your panties to the side, sliding his fingers between your folds and collecting some of your wetness. He lets out a deep sigh as he drags it back through your folds, getting them nice and slick. 

He lets go of your mouth and keeps handing you things to toss over the railings, making sure you stay quiet at the same time. It’s quick, it has to be with them right below you both but it doesn’t make it any less hot. His fingers work deftly, your legs spread wide for him as he toys with your clit. He drags his fingers down your folds again, circling your tight hole with his finger for a moment 

“Hey! I gotta go get some more tape from the store, Maddie is gonna come with, either of you wanna come?” Buck calls up the stairs and the moment is shattered… for you at least. Eddie doesn’t move at all, keeping your legs open for him. 

“Nah we’re good, might start in on that cake while we wait!” 

Buck gasps dramatically as he and Maddie head out “You better not touch that without me!!” You hear the front door shut and Eddie immediately adjusts your bodies, laying you down at a better angle for his fingers to sink deep inside you 

“Can you take two?” He whispers in your ear, his voice is breathy and a bit strained… you can feel why, pushing into your back. He doesn’t have time to stretch you properly like he’s aching to do, he doesn’t know when they’ll be back. 

“Your hand is a lot bigger than mine,” you tell him, looking up. He takes his other hand, holding it up to yours, and smirks a little 

“Yeah, it is… isn’t it?” 

“I want to try anyway”

He doesn’t hesitate in the least and you feel his fingers teasing your clit, smearing your wetness over your lips. His hand comes back over your mouth in case they walk back in as he slowly slides his fingers inside you, allowing you time to adjust a bit before he curls his fingers upwards. 

He slowly works his fingers in and out, following the curves of your body. You pant harshly, whiny and needy for him. 

“Can’t wait to get you home” He bites his lip, and you feel him shift against your back. 

“Can’t wait to have this sweet little cunt wrapped around my cock. Look at how good you’re taking my fingers baby girl… imagine taking this cock instead”

He tilts your head down, making you watch the way your pussy grips his fingers as they thrust in and out of you. They’re coated in your slick more and more with each thrust. He has to bite back his moan as he watches you cum on his fingers, your pussy clenching around them. He chuckles lowly, watching your hips move on them as you fuck yourself on his hand 

“That’s it pretty girl” He purrs “That’s my good girl” He doesn’t stop until you’re whining from the overstimulation and you look exhausted. He pulls his fingers away, his eyes roll back as he sees how sticky and wet they are. He smirks as he stares you down, sucking your juices from his fingers. His eyes flutter closed after a moment, savoring your taste and it’s downright dirty. 

“Fuck I knew you would taste good, from the moment I saw you I knew my sugar cube would be the death of me”

Buck and Maddie come back to you and Eddie folding clothes together on the couch while watching TV. You’re sat as far apart as you can be 

“Did I miss something?” Buck asks as he puts together another box 

“What do you mean?” Eddie’s tone is nonchalant as he folds one of your skirts 

“You guys are like 10 feet apart. Did you fight??” 

“Buck they’re like a pillow away” Maddie sits in between you two and starts folding with you guys

“Okay but you know them” Buck puts his hands on his hips and you get up from the couch, tossing your shirt into a box 

“Come on let’s go upstairs and toss more clothes down” You walk past Buck and Eddie doesn’t even look 

Buck looks at you, and then back at Eddie, and then back to you again, and one more time at Eddie 

“Later” Eddie mouths and Buck glares at him but shrugs it off because he’s one thousand percent getting the story out of one of you.

It doesn’t take long once you all stop goofing off. You and Buck take all the boxes to his Jeep and awkwardly fit them all in. Eddie sits in the backseat next to two boxes and you sit in his lap, so the front seat can also have a couple of boxes, and because Buck says you have a way less chance of being pulled over that way. 

“I swear to god no funny business back there” Buck threatens and you look at Eddie, who can’t help but lean his head against your arm and burst into giggles. You face forward, you back against his chest and lean into him, turning your head to kiss his cheek 

“Gonna keep me safe?” You ask and he shrugs 

“Or I’ll throw you out the window, haven’t decided yet”

Your mouth drops open and he snickers 

“I’m moving back in with Buck!” You hiss and he smirks, nuzzling into your neck and kissing it 

“Oh no you don’t, you’re stuck with me. Besides it’ll be fun to live with your best friend and not your brother” 

“Since when are you her best friend” Buck snorts as he looks at you two in the review mirror 

“Since this afternoon,” He says with a shit-eating grin on his face and you elbow him in the ribs 

Eddie stands in front of you now, his hands on his hips as you set the last box down in the spare room, your new bedroom. Buck left to go visit with the Bennetts after piling your boxes on the front porch and Eddie helped you drag them inside, even if he shouldn’t have. He kicked a couple of them slowly down the hallway and into the spare room while you picked up what you could. 

“All moved in,” He says, not bothering to hide his excitement and you smirk, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. You look up at him, your chin on his chest as you smile 

“Uh huhhh, all moved in. Just me and you roomie. And again, thank you so much for the raised garden bed, you didn’t have to go through all that trouble” 

“Hey, it was nothing. I know how much you love your plants. I wanted you to have something that would make you happy every day you saw it…”  

Your hands trail over his torso, just like he’d done to you. He watches you as you tilt your head down and look at his belt. You work it open, nuzzling your head sleepily in his chest 

“Watcha doin' there sweet girl?” He chuckles, letting you continue your little expedition 

“Nothin..”

“Nothin' huh?” 

“Uh huh” You let his jeans pool around his feet and he actually steps out of them, kicking them to the side 

“Doesn’t feel like nothin”

“Oh?” Your hand slides down the front of his boxers, your fingers brush over his cock and he gasps softly, feeling your hand wrap around him 

“S-shit” He breathes out heavily and your cheeks flush. You give it a couple of tentative strokes, feeling his precum get on your hand too. You look up at him, your eyes softly hooded 

“Is that okay?” You keep stroking him, tortuously slow, enjoying the way he whimpers into his knuckles. He pushes you backward with his body, your hand never leaving his cock. Your back hits the wall and you squeak, he braces himself on the wall, his hand above your head 

“Yeah” His voice is deep and husky “Yeah that’s okay” He tilts your chin up and kisses you, it’s a bit rough and needy and your hand starts to speed up. He growls against your lips, trying to keep from thrusting his hips up into your hand. 

He grabs your wrist, pulling it from his boxers for a second, and holds it up 

“Lick” he instructs you and you do as he says, tasting him on your hand. He shoves your wrist back down his boxers, and your hand slides easier now, wrapped right around his cock. He groans loudly, and you feel the tiniest snap of his hips. You pick up the pace, watching his mouth fall open in an O shape as you jerk him off  His head falls to your shoulder, and you listen to his soft pants, and his quiet little whines… he sounds absolutely pathetic and you giggle, turning to kiss his cheek

“Come on baby… I wanna hear you” You whisper in his ear and his whimpers get louder. He does start to frantically thrust into your hand, pinning you to the wall and getting off on you. 

“Wish it was your pussy” He says, his voice cracking a little in desperation 

“Wish I could fuck you right against this wall an watch your ass shake from how hard I’m pounding it”

Your hand speeds up again and he cries out, cumming all over it and the front of your shirt. He thrusts into your hand a few more times as you milk his cock, spilling out every last drop. 

You do your best to support his shaking frame, but he’s a lot bigger than you. You hold him up, pulling your hand away from his limp cock, and start licking your fingers. He looks at you like he can’t wrap his head around what he’s seeing. You stare into his eyes as you lick your hand clean with a satisfied little smile and his eyes roll back as he pushes himself off the wall. 

“I’m gonna make you pay for that, Sugar Cube”

Eddie lays in bed staring up at the ceiling. He can’t get over that surprised look on your face as he came all over your hand. Honestly, he can’t get over the feeling of your hand. He can still feel it, the way your nimble fingers wrapped around his cock… his hand doesn’t compare in the least. He strokes himself slowly, dreaming about what you would look like on your knees for him. You’d look so pretty staring up at him with those sweet doe eyes, his cock tapping heavily against your sweet lips 

“Eddie?” He’s startled out of his daydream by your small knock at the door, he covers himself and sits up, running his other hand through his hair 

“Uh… yeah, yeah babe what’s up?” His voice is strained as you open the door and poke your head into his room 

“Uhh…it’s kinda childish” 

You scoot into the bedroom and shut the door, looking around suspiciously

“What is it??” He looks around himself, for whatever the heck you’re looking for

“I had a bad dream” You sigh, letting your head fall against the door and he smirks scooting over in bed and patting it 

“Come on you” 

You bounce on the bed as you get in, immediately snuggling into his arms and curling your body into his. It’s a perfect fit, it always has been. He leans down and kisses your head softly, wrapping his arms around you protectively 

“I’m uh… I’m sorry if earlier was a little forward” You blush as you lay your head against his chest. His pecs are smooth and squishy and the perfect pillow 

“You’re saying sorry?? When I literally touched you while your family was right downstairs?” He snickers, shaking his head 

“Oh Sugar Cube, you’ve got a funny sense of guilt” 

“I should honestly kick your ass for that one” You glare at him and he smirks, you feel him push you back a little so you’re laying flat on your back 

“I said I was sorry” He grins, not sorry in the slightest. You feel him rest between your legs, his favorite place to be it seems 

“Maybe we can… finish something we started?” He asks quietly, and you can feel his hardness poking against your panties 

“It’s not really sex if you don’t put it in?” You snicker, quoting him and he brings your thigh up and hooks your knee around his waist. He rubs your smooth thigh, squeezing it in his hands and massaging it 

“See! Now you’re getting it!” He puts more weight on you, his cock heavy between your legs, you gasp softly, letting your eyes flutter closed and he smirks 

“This cool?” He asks softly, nuzzling your neck as his hips start to roll in those delicious little circles. 

“Mhmmm” you hum in his ear “So cool” you shudder as he picks up the pace, he reaches down between the two of you, pulling your panties to the side, and grinds against your clit. Your hips jerk up into his and he chuckles, kissing your neck 

“Down, Baby” he purrs condescendingly in your ear. He smirks, feeling the front of his boxers get wetter 

“Oh… you like that, don’t you?” He squeezes your cheeks together in his hand making your lips pucker. He kisses them lightly 

“You like when I’m a little mean to you, huh?” He asks softly, turning your head and kissing your neck, not really giving you time to answer any of his questions 

“You just wait until you’re mine… I’ll show you what a good girl like you deserves” 

You didn’t know Eddie knew Spanish, okay maybe you did know and just forgot. But he’s whispering something in your ear as his hips pick up a bit more speed and press down into you harder and you’re praying you can control yourself and not flip him over and ride him until your legs give out.

He doesn’t waste any time as he pulls his boxers down, sliding his cock between your soaked folds, very carefully not inserting himself, and at this point, you’re about to just shove him down and do it anyway. 

“Fuck, such a needy little thing aren’t you?”

His moans are angelic. He’s not afraid to let you know just how good you’re making him feel. This isn’t going to last very long if he keeps moaning like that, saying whatever dirty things come to his mind. Your hands fly up to his face, cupping his cheeks and kissing him heatedly. You run your fingers through his fluffy hair and tug a bit, causing him to groan against your lips 

“Come on sugar… I know you can do better than that” He whispers tauntingly, his eyes dark and cloudy. His breath hitches as you tug harder, pulling him away to look at you  “Better?” You tease and you feel his hips stutter, he stops for a moment, a smug little smirk on his face 

“You’re gonna end this way too quickly”

“You have so much audacity blaming this on me Mr. I know you can do better than that” “

“Are we really gonna have this discussion right now?” He shakes his head chuckling 

“I think you’re using it as a distraction” 

“And you don’t? Need a distraction?” He scoffs

“Okay. Nice to know” 

“That’s not what I me-“

He covers your mouth, pushing you back in the pillows, he slaps your clit, and your body jolts as you cry into his hand

“Oh, bite my finger if you want me to stop okay?” He lifts his hand for a second, rubbing your reddening cunt 

“O-Okay” You nod slowly and he smiles, it’s not sweet in the least, there’s nothing “cute” about him right now. He’s a man on a mission with that devilish look in his eyes

“That’s my good girl” he coos softly 

He covers your mouth again, as you moan and whimper pathetically on his fingers. He’s merciless with the way they plunge in and out of you, his palm slapping against your clit with every thrust of his fingers. This is nothing like it was earlier, no he wants to make you squirt now that you’re in his bed. His knuckles shine with your juices as he laughs evilly in your ear, his voice deep and molten as he watches you come undone all over him.

“Holy shit” He whispers in your ear and your eyes widen, as he keeps going, pulling another orgasm from you. It’s like he can’t get enough of the way you keen and cry out his name, cursing at him over and over like a broken record. His long fingers stroke over that spongy spot one more time and you’re squirting, your hips rising off the bed while crying out loudly.

You manage to push him away before he does it for a third time. He pulls his hand from your mouth and slides his hand down your body, keeping your legs spread for him. 

“Fuck I wish I was recording that” 

He likes watching the way you’re lying there now, an overwhelmed, dazed little smile on your lips. He wants to take a picture of you like this, with your hazy afterglow and shaky thighs. 

Instead, he takes your hand, using you to stroke his cock. You squeeze a bit while biting your lip as hot, thick, white ropes coat your sopping cunt. It takes everything in him not to drag it over your clit with his tip and stuff it back in you, making you take each drop. 

“One day…” He promises, panting harshly after finishing like that and using his fingers instead of his tip to tease your overstimulated body with his cum. 

“One day I’m gonna stuff your pretty pussy and take pictures of the way it drips from you” 

He taps your lips with his fingers “Clean up, honey” He tells you, grinning wickedly when your lips wrap around his fingers and you eagerly lick them clean, he loves how sleepy and cock drunk you look. He’s even more excited to find out how you look when he finally gets to fuck you dumb.

“We’re going to need to discuss limits sometime soon Sugar Cube… I wanna know just how far I’m allowed to push you” 

[jadeoru]

SMUDGED LIPSTICK!

15: cherry red -> prev / mlist / next

warnings: cursing, weed, drinking, mentions of making out, implied sex

now playing: last night - good charlotte 🎶

His head ached, pounding loudly in his ears. He woke up with a groan, shifting slightly and sitting up. How much did he drink last night? As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he quickly realised it wasn’t just his head that was hurting. Pain pulsated throughout almost his entire body; crashing into him like a tidal wave. He tried to remember something, anything that could’ve led him to be feeling this terribly, but his mind was drawing blanks. What the fuck happened? He looked around his room, searching for anything that could refresh his memory. He looked at the empty glass of water on his bedside table, his shoes that were thrown haphazardly onto the middle of the floor, the curtains that were half-shut, half-open; he must’ve been too drunk and exhausted to close them entirely. Nothing was helping. He recalled the party, barely. Fragments of almost-memories came to him: shitty music, flashing lights, his friends dancing. It was all so usual, almost the same as every other night, and yet he felt significantly worse. He picked up his phone and glanced at it, squinting at the bright light that harassed his eyes; making his headache even worse. He had no new notifications. He put it back down, too tired to go searching for answers.

His hangover made him feel like death. He was uncomfortably hot; every inch of his skin throbbed in agony. His throat was dry, and it hurt every time he swallowed. He needed water, but his body was just too heavy to move. He felt gross. The second he trusted his legs, he’d run straight to the bathroom to shower. He was considering two showers at this point, making sure every spec of him was thoroughly clean. With a heavy sigh, he ran his hand through his hair; wiping the sweat off of his forehead. Before letting his arms fall to his lap, he paused. Was he seeing things? His hands stayed in the air, palms facing the bed, hiding him from what he could’ve sworn he saw. Was he bleeding? Did he somehow injure himself last night, or while he was sleeping? He turned his hand around, seeking answers. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him. There was a mysterious red mark on his hand. What? His eyebrows furrowed with confusion. He pulled the blanket off of him in a slight panic. Did he cut his forehead? How long was he bleeding for? He stumbled out of bed, standing up far too quickly; the room spun around him for a moment, before eventually going back to normal after a while. He made his way to his bathroom, each step felt like boulders were attached to his feet, weighing him down. He practically dragged himself across the hall, pulling the handle open with a grunt. He turned the light on and made his way to the mirror. Ready to examine his wound, he looked into it.

Holy shit.

He gasped at the sight in front of him: on his face, covering almost every inch of his skin, including his lips, was cherry red marks. These mysterious marks even travelled down to his neck, and although he wasn’t certain, if he took his shirt off he'd probably find even more. He recognised the colour, the specific shade of red. As he slowly put the pieces together, the empty space of his cheeks grew increasingly redder by the second. This was your cherry red. This was the exact shade of lipstick that you wore. The shade you always wore. He gulped, staring at the lipstick that smeared all over him. His heart was fucking racing. His eyes lingered on his lips, his mouth opened slightly as he observed the smudged lipstick there. He wasn’t sure what happened last night, but the traces of you on his body were a telltale sign.

Although he wasn’t entirely certain,

He’s pretty sure he just had the best night of his life.

TAGLIST: @gojoed @anianurst @itsdragonius @sleepy-writer84 @yuminako @wolffmaiden @tenjikusstuff4 @juie13 @ilyless @arachnoia @choizzn @3lectraheart @sugarrhiccupp @bbybibi @diorzs @le000xxgrd @aboveasphodel @petrus1989 @aria-in-wonderland @walllflowerrrsss @wave2mia

@loveelylacey @marimisses @alpha-mommy69 @thepurpleempath @theauthorunicorn @v1oletfury @iluvmang @slashkxe @theycallmenanamisgirl @dailyakira @lunarlunaire @iovetooru @ryukumi @soupofmushrooms @megmercury @renardiererin @violetesensou @wtfdudewhydidyoutakemyusername @ast4rg1rl @dazqa

@yoshit-he-dinosaur @chaotic-nat @solaqes @crimcriminal @am-i-ok-no @myromanempiree @jaynawayna @h0neybunni @sunakeiji

reply to this to be added ^__^

[whatispersonalspacejyp]

Bernadette

Genre: Smut, historian (Victorian age)

Pairing: Vampire (Yandere?) Hyunjin x doll-like (f) virgin reader 

Word count: 1094

Summary: On a Victorian ball you meet an mysterious man. He was impressed by your doll like features and decides to take you and make you his.

Warnings: Dub-Con, hypnosis, virgin reader, degradation, spanking, reader is seen as a doll, yandere themes, dacryphilia, creampie, bitting 

🎶 Bernadette - IAMX

Original Date: 10 October 2020

Part two: Victoria  Part three: Jeanny  Epilogue: Maria

You were invited to a masquerade ball. You were one known to be one of the finest dressmakers in the world. You look at your doll and knew you should start on your dress immediately before other people would ask you for dresses to make.

You grabbed your green and black fabric and started to work. You wanted it to be a two-piece, a corset, and a skirt.

A whole 2 months went by but your dress was ready, the black corset matched nicely with your green hoop skirt. Your mask just covered your eyes and was detailed with black, green, and hints of gold, making it completely match with your outfit. “One day before the ball.” You were busy with the final details as you heard the door of your shop opened. “Dear miss Y/N? I come to collect my dress for tomorrow.”

Your favorite customer said, making you smile as you walked towards the front of the shop with her dress.

“Lady Felicia, great to see you. Here your dress, made of the finest red fabric I could find. Maybe you can even score a man tomorrow.” The woman smiled.

“Here you go, I’ll pick you up tomorrow I don’t want you to get lost.” She said, handing you the money.

“Now bye-bye dear.”

You sat next to lady Felicia in her carriage to the ball. It was a beautiful palace and you were fascinated by it as it was your first ball

“My dear Y/N. You look so beautiful! You have such a doll-like appearance, I’m sure every man there wants you as his wife.” She said smiling. The carriage stopped in front of the house and the coachman opened the door, helping Lady Felicia and you out of it.

Lady Felicia smiled and pulled you inside the house to the ballroom. You were stunned by the number of people and how beautiful the house was. It was as if it was built with gold. The Lady next to you smiled as the waltz was played.

“Dear, find yourself a man to dance with,” she said smiling as she walked away to find a man. You on the other hand were shy and looked around until your eyes landed on a man.

He was tall and fully dressed in black. His mask covered half of his face and his smile was beautiful. His long blond hair gave him a royalty vibe, you walked to the man as he was standing here alone. You didn’t know what came over you as you stood in front of him, you were speechless and wanted to turn around again until the man stopped you.

“Miss? Would you like to dance?” He asks, his eyes were dark. It was pretty unusual as in some lighting it looked red.

“I would love too, I just don’t know how to dance.” You brushed it off and he leads you to the dance floor.

“I lead you don’t worry.” the man said and you two started to dance.

You two danced for a while until he pulls you with him to the side. “What’s your name doll?” He said smiling, his eyes turning bright red as you got mesmerized by it leading your eyes into having a purple haze around it.

“Y/N.” You said not knowing what just happened.

“Well Y/N, I’m Hyunjin, come with me.” He holds out a hand for you and you followed without any question, you felt in love. He was so handsome and he wanted some alone time, that was the best thing you could ever think of.

He brings you into a room, far away from all the other guests. You were amazed by his look, his eyes were still mesmerizing. He walks closer to you and managed to find a way to take off your skirt.

“Look at that.” He smiled, taking off your hoop and then your panties. “Leave that corset on, I really like that.” He laid your chest with your ass turned to him. “Count for me, doll.”

He takes off his belt and hits your ass, you moaned out of pleasure. He continued, making you count till 50. Your ass was bleeding and red once he was finished and smiled by seeing the masterpiece.

Hyunjin unzipped his pants and pulls them down enough to take his cock out. He slams his cock into you and the purple haze in your eyes disappeared. You screamed out in pain.

Hyunjin was going into a fast pace while smirking, seeing you like that made him want to go even faster. Your screams turned into moans, making Hyunjin eyes turn bright red.

He leans down to your neck and bites into it, drinking some of your blood. “You taste good doll.” He whispers in your ear as he still went at his fast pace. You moaned loudly at the feeling, his whispering made your hairs stand up and clench around his cock.

“You like that doll?” He said holding onto your corseted waist.

“You are clenching around me, you sure are loving it.” Hyunjin laughs, he kept on hitting your g-spot and the knot in your stomach grew with each time he hit that spot. After a hard thrust, you came undone and he couldn’t help but laugh at you.

“So desperate. Guess where I’m going to cum in?” He whispered in your ear again, wrapping his arms around you, laughing at your demise.

“Please, no... no please I beg you! Please not inside of me!” You cried out, trying to grab something without any success.

“I’m going to breed my doll,” Hyunjin smirked, his hands towards your hips, and with one last thrust, he cums in you. The feeling made you cum for the second time and it tired you out.

“You are mine now, no man wants to marry a nonvirgin. Especially if a man's cum is dripping out of you.” Hyunjin laughs loudly as he zipped up his pants.

“Now my fiancé gets up. I’ll bring you to your new playhouse doll, where will live for eternally.” He helps you with the skirt, making sure you didn’t wear your panties. “I’m going to dress you up then, be my toy which pleases me.”

He made you stand up as he put on the hoop, his cum slowing dripped down your leg, making him smirk. He pulls your skirt over it and whispered in your ear.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

🎶🎻 let's see if this actually helps me find this later

WIBTA for marking up my friend's sheet music?

ok so I (15m) have a friend (17f) and we both play cello in the classical music ensemble at our school. we have both been playing cello for approx 7 years. we had very different musical upbringings: she learned to play cello in a class with a bunch of other kids, and from what I gather there were many other instruments and the teacher took kind of a hands-off approach, which is typical for the kind of elementary school she went to. I, on the other hand, learned through private lessons (which I don't think I'm better for, it's just different) and my teacher (who I still take piano and cello lessons from) is a little bit obsessive when it comes to correct technique and stuff. I care a little less about technique than my teacher, but I definitely developed quite a few of her habits: I always pay really close attention to what the sheet music tells me, especially dynamics and which direction my bow needs to go in, or how many notes I'm playing in a bow stroke. part of this is because that's what the composer would have wanted and also because when I started my teacher would make me mark everything, and I mean EVERYTHING in my sheet music. we're talking fingerings, bow markings, highlighting every chreschendo and decrescendo, putting the counting in for all of the rhythms and more. now I typically only mark super important things, like if I keep forgetting a note or something, and I rarely mark my cello sheet music in ensembles, though everyone has seen me mark my bass music, since I'm new to bass.

Recently, since it's about 2/3rds of the way through the school year and we have a good group, my ensemble has been playing more challenging stuff. the parts or more intricately layered and dynamics are a pretty big thing, especially for the cello section, since we basically have one line for half of a piece which is just to play some half notes that crescendo and decrescendo over and over. and it's like, all we do, like it's a pretty big part of the song. the issue is that my friend just kind of ignores the dynamic markings and bowings in the music and what the other cellists are doing (there's three of us, including me and her and she sits in between us) so she just kinda plays the piece at the same volume. the whole time. and it's written right there. and she's heard me play it solo without the ensemble before, so in theory she knows how to do it. and after seven years of playing the cello, you should have the bow control to play quietly.

now, this wouldn't annoy me so much if her ignorance wasn't a recurring thing. last year, we played aquarius with the jazz ensemble and we both really liked the piece. except we had this one part. we had to play a bunch of tied whole notes in the beginning. just two in a row and then we'd change bows. (if you don't play an instrument, a tied note is basically when the note is played over two measures, in this case we would play the same note fore eight beats, and then reverse the direction of our bow) now, I can hold my bow in one direction for eight beats. it's not fun or easy and I'd rather play a melody or bass line to begin with, but if you're playing quietly (like we were supposed to be) you can maintain a pretty steady pace for eight beats in one bow. my friend NEVER did this. she would just run her bow back and forth on the note until we moved on to the next and then do the same there. and I'm talking like she'd play maybe ten notes while we played one. which, obviously, through off the rhythm. we weren't as close last year and I didn't know she'd been playing as long as she had, so I ignored it. but, she kept doing it and she still does. I've confronted her about it multiple times, saying how it's like if you breathed half way through a note on a wind instrument, how it messes us up because her bow will go in a different direction than the other cellos and hit me in the elbow a lot, and how it makes us look weirdly messy. every time she just kind of says okay and walks off.

now, I think my friend could benefit from having her sheet music marked like my teacher used to make me, because clearly just mentioning it to her is not enough and as we move on to harder music it's making us look worse. so, wibta if I brought some extra pens and highlighters and reminded her to circle or highlight different dynamic, rhythmic and bowing notations if she doesn't play them the first few times?

What are these acronyms?

[autisticlalna]

🎶 stop the clocks, i'm killing time! i don't ever want this to end, and you say "that makes two of us"

⏯ NOW PLAYING: Stop the Clocks by Enter Shikari

for @mcyt-jukebox-bonanza, featuring Rubyco and VikingPilot from Twitch SMP!

ramblings under cut:

FINAL JUKEBOX!

i was talking to Viking about Enter Shikari (i'd gotten him to start listening to them via the PMV preview) and he mentioned this song in specific as one he's been listening to lately. and, like, i've mentioned before that Radiate is my favorite from this band, but Stop The Clocks was up there for a while. so... yeah! obviously i had to draw something.

this went through a LOT of revision. after my last jukebox i fell into an art slump and was struggling with ideas and what i felt capable of. i knew the main thing i wanted was to include TwitchCon SMP-- the entire thing is that they were only supposed to exist for three days. initially the middle panel was going to be another angle of the same scene, with Viking and Ruby looking out over the beet fields in the sunset, but i didn't feel like i'd have the time or energy for a detailed background.

after that idea got scrapped, i had the idea to lean into the contrast of where they started vs where they are now. this is the version i showed Viking:

..with the middle panel being a redraw of the first thing i drew for Twitch SMP, of Viking dangling Ruby over the cliff. when i started looping the song to start lining and coloring, though, it didn't really match the tone of the song so i scrapped it again, shuffled element positions, and returned to the first idea but with it being TSMP Viking and Ruby instead. still ended up being a bit of a redraw, but this time it's of the scene where Viking talks about his dreams and how they need to embrace whatever's happening to both of them.

and yet despite all of that, the parts i like best are the tiny panels of TCSMP Ruby and Viking. i like the rim lighting, i like the expressions, i like the palette i used for the background. it's just so nice. i wanted to capture a bittersweet fondness, because neither of them expected to continue past this. yknow?

while i'm here, i wanna talk a little bit about tcViking:

he has tViking's palette (hence his goggles being brown instead of black), and he has the scar next to his eye that i draw tViking with. the other scars he got after being lost in time, but i figured having some kind of identifying characteristic would help with Ruby seeing him as her Viking, and then that coming into doubt as she saw how different he was physically and mentally.

this was really fun to do <3 it feels poetic that my first and last pieces are tRuby-- TSMP got me through what otherwise would've been a rough start to the year, and Rubyco especially has been incredibly cool and making me feel more confident and comfortable with being very vocally active in fandom again :,)

back to work on the PMV!

[akkivee]

it was about time i typed out my thoughts on grateful cypher lol. i’m still processing it actually!!!! but i actually think this play is not for me lmao!!!! it was a genuinely fantastic play don’t get me wrong, like i was actually taken aback by how the play went down, depicted some of my fav relationship beats at their finest and had lots of banger moments, but the moment it became very tdd centric, i knew this was not the play for the type of fan i am lol

but whatever!!!! i’m used to feeling like sasara and kuukou are side pieces so here’s what i really enjoyed about grateful cypher!!!!!

legends era stage’s funniest song was that rosasa on live tv for how the actors took to that bit and were playing around with everyone lol like they were peak adlibs but i genuinely think ‘Sight-Seeing and Gambling and Partying and Adult’s Only Streets’ is now Thee funniest song hypstage has ever put out LOL

like the title alone was sending me but then the actual song made me laugh so hard, there were literally tears in my eyes and i had to go back to make sure i didn’t miss anything bc i was laughing so hard LOL

like that song literally put the power of music on display, when jyushi and hitoya got separated in tokyo and had their own little adventure bumping into the other divisions trying to find each other, the beat was literally

gendice to some pop dance music: shibuya entertainment~🎶 shibuya entertainment~🎶

jyushi to the beat of really aggressive rock: HITOYA-SAN HELP ME HITOYA-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANN 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

dohifu to that pop dance music: shinjuku party~🎶 shinjuku party~🎶

hitoya ft that fr aggressive rock: JYUSHI YOU FCKING IDIOT JYUSHI YOU BUFFOON HOW DID YOU GET LOST

LIKE I WAS DYING LMAOOO

and the song was wildin for making rei flirt with jyushi lmao!!!!!!

i wish i knew why but i actually found dice and jyushi’s interactions rly cute lol 🥺🥺🥺 maybe it was how plucky dice was next to how baby jyushi was lol

that rio juto dinner song also made me laugh lmao the moment juto started singing happily after rio’s dinner got wrecked bc he thought he got away with not eating rio’s food was so funny lmao except rio managed to save him a plate anyway 😭😭😭😭

that bat dish was neon coloured!!!!!!! like nahhhh bro run juto run!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭

ight so imma try to keep the nitpicking to a minimum as we get into the actual play lol but samatoki and ichiro just slugging sasara and kuukou for trying to break up their fight was actually insane lmao

it wasn’t something i particularly liked in canon, but the stage really highlighted how in the early days of the tdd manga, mcd and nb mirrored tf out of each other, as in, they physically showed their bond in the same way and it was stupid tbh but it was kinda cool to see in that throwback kinda sense lol

*crying* but that remorse ichiro had accidentally hurting kuukou in canon…… even tho it’s lowkey linked to ichiro not wanting to hurt anyone……… and then it was kuukou who instigated the fight bc of his penchant for violence………. uuuuuuuuuuuuu…………..

i am slightly mollified by the two of them being in each other’s faces in order to argue in a very stark contrast to the others lmao

THOSE MFS JUMPED SASARA!!!!!!!!!! THEY ACTUALLY JUMPED SASARA??????

AND THEN PULLED JYUSHI INTO THE BACKSTREETS TO KNOCK HIM OUT WHILE KUUKOU WASNT LOOKING?????

AND STABBED KUUKOU??????????? WHO OFC DIDNT GO DOWN SO THEY BASHED HIS HEAD IN???????

H…..HUH??????????????????????

*applauds* west end mafia everyone!!!! give it up for west end mafia!!!!! some hardcore mfs!!!!!!!

i liked them!!!!! they were scrappy as hell bc they were very aware of their weakness so they compensated in the worst way possible lmao

it was a bit of a missed opportunity to not have kuukou be a part of their final confrontation since he’s all about training to bc he thinks he’s weak but it’s all good lol ichiro’s same hat bro!!!!!

i got ahead of myself tho lol, that tdd confrontation scene after sasara, kuukou and jyushi got taken out was pretty neat actually lol. i am someone who agrees everyone made up a liiiiiiittle too quickly, and i always liked the stage exaggerated conflict so this was nice see lol

like stage ramuda has one hell of a stage presence, he carried that entire scene, from that nonchalance that made rosho accuse him of hurting🎋📿🌙, to his eventual descent into feeling betrayed but accepting bc it was his own actions that caused so much distrust in him

the hama fans were (rightfully) upset there wasn’t a single scene between mtc, and it’s very likely bc if samatoki had been with a single member of his team, much less the both of them, he would not have gotten taken out by west end mafia lmao

and more on hachiouji division!!!!!! ain’t they neat lol????? they’re so interesting, they all want to be praised and validated, like tokuma (kinda), yoshitsune, ranmaru and shion all turned to mahiru for that validation and west end mafia’s ultimate goal was mahiru’s way to gain that validation ITS SICK

and i really liked the way you could kinda tell mahiru and tokuma were like a boss and his right hand man 🥺🥺🥺

west end mafia still reminds me of the pet shop boy’s ‘west end girls’ and i still doubt that song was the inspiration behind their name but it’s a song marred in violence as they build a lasting foundation so it kinda sorta fits hachiouji lol

also mahiru has a uk button on his jacket and the song’s british lol 🤭🤭🤭

that rei and ichiro scene after ichiro lost his bros to hachiouji literally took my breath away lol

rei guiding him to slow down and think and the song was backed by some incredible vocals on rei’s part like bruh 😭😭😭😭

AND 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 WHEN ICHIRO ASKED HOW REI WASNT WORRIED ABOUT JIRO AND SABURO????

REI: YOU WANT ME TO SAVE THEM?

ICHIRO: NO BUT YOURE STILL—

THE WAY ICHIRO CUTS HIMSELF OFF FROM CALLING HIM THEIR FATHER

AND REI LAUGHS AND AGREES WITH THE UNSPOKEN THAT YEAH HES A DEADBEAT WITH NO RIGHT TO CALL HIMSELF THEIR FATHER

BUT ADMITS THAT IF JIRO AND SABURO ARE HIS KIDS THEN THEY WOULDNT BE TAKEN OUT SO EASILY HYPSTAGE NEVER MISSES WITH THE YAMADA DYNAMIC

i really really liked how by working together, those who were left were actually able to out manoeuvre hachiouji

but they went separate ways, jakurai and ichiro going to the hachiouji base just the two of them and got out manoeuvred by hachiouji’s teamwork like what a banging choice 😭😭😭

i did not like watching jiro and saburo in fear ☹️ it was looking pretty rough for them, thank god the rest of the leaders pulled up lol

ik i shouldn’t lol but i loved the way kuukou made sure to protect jiro and saburo and promised to carry on their rage for them 🥺🥺🥺 it directly mirrors ichiro taking on mahiru’s rage at the world on his back for them but again, i shouldn’t be making those connections lol

kuukou: *does a flying roundhouse kick on an enemy mid verse*

me: THAT WAS COOL SHIT BUT BBY YOU GOT STABBED IN THE BACK AND HAD YOUR HEAD BLUDGEONED CHILL OUT KUUKOU 😭😭😭😭😭😭

the way the beat and music actually stopped at this part was tough bro samatoki needs to share his peak with the rest of the crew bro tf 😭😭😭😭😭

kuukou’s a tsundere in this play btw lol

kuukou in the face of ichiro’s feelings in canon: hey don’t worry about it man!!!! 😅😆😅

kuukou in the face of ichiro’s feelings in gc: EW WHAT WAS THAT??? *turns away pouting*😤😳😤

LOL AND WHILE KUUKOU WAS SQUATTING AWAY FROM EVERYONE ELSE SAMATOKI AND ICHIRO DECIDED TO PICK A FIGHT WITH EACH OTHER AND HE LITERALLY LOOKED OVER HIS SHOULDER AT THEM WITH SHEER DISGUST

AND SASARA LITERALLY HAD TO DRAG HIM IN SO THEY COULD STOP THEM BRO WANTED NOTHING TO DO WITH SAMATOKI AND ICHIRO LMAO AND YOU KNOW WHAT???

MOOD

[enchantedchocolatebars]

A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human Chapter 1 : Our Story Begins

Written by 💕 enchantedchocolatebars 🍫 (me, lol).

Ao3 version.

Previous Chapter 1.

Commission cover art.

Cover art poll.

Chapter titles.

Fic playlist 🎵 💕 🎶 ✨️ <3

Cover redraw.

Enjoy!

Even though the Titan did enjoy watching his living son from the floating cubes that drifted around in the realm known as the In Between as doing so gave him the opportunity to watch his son grow up, he also liked spending time with his unhatched children.

Tonight was family game night.

"So," the Titan began, smiling what was a close approximation to a smile down at his three little titan eggs who were sitting in front of him in a pool of shallow water.

Egg number one wore a pink bow, egg number two wore a blue baseball cap, and egg number three wore an egg-sized 'Bad Girl Coven' t-shirt, which matched with the one its father wore.

Reaching behind his back, the Titan happily pulled out two board game boxes.

The box in his left hand had a picture of a checkerboard, while the other displayed the image of a black king chess piece.

"What game should we play tonight?" he asked his egglings, not expecting them to give him a verbal answer as he had the ability to comprehend them without verbalization.

He holds up the first option. "Checkers?" He lists off, shaking the box some before bringing it down and lifting up the second option, repeating the process. "Or chess?"

The eggs, of course, stayed silent about the choices, but still communicated to their papa.

"…,"

"…,"

"…,"

The Titan couldn't contain the buoyant laughter that decided to bubble up out of his chest when he heard them.

"Very well," he said with a second chuckle, stowing the checkers box behind his back once again before using a single beckoning gesture of his finger to raise a table from below the shallow surface of the water.

Once the Titan sets the chess box down on the table, he opens it and takes out the board before laying it out.

"We'll start with chess first and play checkers afterward. I'll even throw in an extra game just for the fun of it," he tells his eggs with a tender smile, placing the black and white chess pieces in their proper places.

He puts the pawns in front, then lines up the other pieces symmetrically with the king and queen in the middle.

Next, the Titan walks over and, with extra care and very gentle claws, picks up his little eggling in the blue baseball cap.

Heading over to its chair, he produces a plump white pillow from thin air onto it and carefully sets it down.

Two more plump pillows are conjured across from the table as the Titan picks up his other two eggs and settles them down on their seats.

They were going to watch their papa play against their sibling in a match.

Upon taking his seat at the table, the Titan casts a sunny smile across his scruffy face as he gazed at his child.

"I know this is your first time playing chess," he began in a kind and understanding voice before continuing.

"So I'll share with you what I know."

"…," went the egg to its father.

Such an innocently childlike response led to the Titan's soft chuckle, his bony smile reaching all the way up to his round, hollow eyes.

"Don't worry," he reassured to his unhatched egg softly.

"I'll explain all the basics to you, and we'll start slowly and take our time while playing."

Chess was a challenging and complex game, he knew that.

The Titan wasn't very fond of the classic board game at first when he first started playing it with a human man with blonde hair and a forelock.

However, as their games progressed and the man taught him the basics, his liking for it increased.

"…?" asked the egg.

The Titan nodded. "Promise," he said as their chess lesson began.

The two most crucial pieces in the game are reached for by clawed hands.

"See these two guys here?" The Titan asked his egg, holding the pieces in his hand before continuing.

"In chess, we call them kings. Each player only gets one, and they're the most important pieces in the game. You want to attack your opponent’s king while also keeping your own king safe and protected."

King.

Safe.

Protected.

The Titan's mind was filled with memories of his oldest son.

He sighs of bliss from the memories before continuing with his explanation.

"Once the king is captured, the game ends, so always remember to keep him shielded."

As the Titan lists off the other pieces, he points at them.

"Each player controls 16 pieces: 8 pawns, 2 bishops, 2 knights, 2 rooks, 1 king, and 1 queen."

"…?"

Papa Titan chuckles.

"The knights are the little horse heads, and the rooks are the little castle towers," he told his little one.

"Each chess piece has its own unique way of moving across the board and potentially capturing your opponent's pieces as it goes."

He points at the pawns.

"Pawns have the ability to move one square forward per turn, except for their first turn when they have the ability to move two squares forward. Pawns move diagonally forward by capturing other pieces diagonally. They cannot move backwards."

After explaining the other pieces to his egg in great detail, Papa Titan moves on to the gameplay and strategy.

…

"… And that's the game!" The Titan finishes his final statement with a grin.

Hands are placed on his hips.

"Sounds simple, right?"

"…," the egg said otherwise as a multitude of thoughts swirled inside its shell.

The Titan nodded with complete understanding of the overwhelming feeling.

"It's a lot to take in, but I think you can do it," he gently encouraged with a fatherly smile before continuing.

"Since you're just starting out, focus on always protecting your king, and you'll do just fine."

He gestures for the egg to make the first move.

As soon as he blinks, he observes that a white pawn has moved two spaces forward.

The Titan smiles, doing the same with his black one.

Upon the second blink, his eyes detect an advanced white king on the board, causing him to let out a jolly laugh.

"You're already a natural at this," he complimented, moving his knight.

Blinking, he notices that his child has pushed his king piece up a space.

In response, the Titan opened up a rook by pushing a pawn.

After more pieces are pushed, the Titan blinks again and sees that he’s been checkmated.

He gives a playful laugh. “Well, that was certainly fun! You win!”

A hand hovers over the egg, gently patting the top part of its shell. "Good job."

…

After family game night concluded, the three eggs, who were now wearing small night caps that fit them just right, were curled up in bed under a thick comforter together as their father entered their room with a light brown hardcover book tucked under his arm.

"I'm hope you're all ready for tonight's story," he began, his voice so soft and tender as he took a seat in the rocking chair in the middle of the room.

"Because it's one of my favorites," he reveals with a gentle chuckle, showing off the cute cover to his children.

It was adorned with a gold border as scatters of sparkles and hearts were displayed in the background.

A happy human dressed in a pink suit and a winsome witch dressed in a blue gown were in the foreground, their respective palismen on each of their shoulders.

Behind them was another human with a beard, angrily spying on them in a bush with a bird perched on his head.

"It's titled 'A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human'," The Titan read as he opened the book and turned to the first page.

"Our story begins in Bonesborough…"

[honkai-kin-rail]

Hello! Would you mind doing a bisexual Jing Yuan icon edits? Thank you in advance.

Sure thing! Sorry these took forever ;; you can find them here

[ihrtlix]

Angel Baby ☁️

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Fem!Reader

W/c: 733 (baby numbers)

Warnings: Car crash, Hospital, angst, Fluff.

Song rec:

It was a rainy tuesday night when you’d decided to take your dog Lucky out for a walk. You’d never really been a fan of the rain but as a pet owner, you knew that it was your responsibility to make sure that Lucky was kept fit and healthy. “Lucky come here buddy” you said as you slid his collar on. Lucky had sat himself by the door patiently waiting for you to finish sorting out what you were going to wear. You made sure to put on your most comfortable pair of trainers and threw on some joggers and a hoodie. Although you hate the rain, it was only going to be a quick walk… right?

🎶play me the classics.. something romantic🎶

Once you had made it to the exit of your apartment complex, you slid your headphones on and pressed play. The music sent shivers down your spine as the soft beats flew through the air around your head mixing in with the soft sound of rain in the distance. The walk was only 15 minutes in until the decision of heading back home had struck you. Lucky seemed tired and happily agreed when you both turned around and headed back in the direction you had previously walked from.

🎶you came out the blue on a rainy night🎶

You were quite tired due to the long day you had causing you to not check the road properly before crossing. A man runs over from across the road, luckily he was trained in first aid. He feels for a heartbeat and his body freezes.. where was your pulse? He does chest compressions until he hears a small breath leave your cold lips. As you regain consciousness, you feel a sharp pain shooting around your body as you open your eyes to find yourself on the wet, concrete floor. You hear shouting from beside you as you try to comprehend what’s just happened. As you slowly gather your surroundings, you see with tears staining his eyes, the most ethereal man you’ve ever seen and his name? Kim Seungmin.

🎶while your bringing me back to life🎶

He screams at his friends for help whilst he takes off his warm, thick jacket and places it delicately under your head. Tears slowly prick at his eyes. He holds you tightly while you hear him tell his friend ‘chan’ to call an ambulance. He tells you reassuring words such as: “shhh.. it’s alright i’m here” and “hold on for me love.. okay?” whilst he strokes your hair and wipes your stray tears off your frozen, rosy cheeks.

🎶now i’m in pieces, barely believe it..🎶

Panic strikes you suddenly. You start trying to get up whilst sobbing as you remember your dog Lucky. Seungmin looks around quickly trying to pinpoint where his other friends were until he spots them. He beckons them over and you take a breath of relief, allowing Seungmin to lay you back down in his lap, when you see the others giving attention to Lucky, who managed to come out with no injury whatsoever.

🎶starting to feel like you’ve lost all feeling🎶

Blinding lights and wailing sirens flood your mind when the ambulance appeared. The paramedics talk to Seungmin due to the fact that you were in and out of consciousness. The paramedics try to tell you that you were about to leave to go to the hospital when you started to mumble, “Seungmin.. where is he?”. He realised that you wanted him to accompany you to the hospital and he sat down next to you, keeping a hand on your arm all the way until you finished the journey there.

*time skip*

🎶until you gave up heaven so we could be together🎶

You wake up, body sore, limbs aching and you have the worst migraine ever. You hear soft snores coming from beside you. There he is, head on the edge of the bed, closest to your hand whilst he is in dreamland. You slowly reach your hand up and stroke his hair eventually making your way down to his soft cheek. He stirs in his sleep and opens his sleepy eyes to find you looking at him with adoration. Once he has fully woken up, he checks over you (as if the doctors wouldn’t have already). He tears up realising that he, Kim Seungmin, saved your life. “your my angel..” he said, voice laced with relief. “angel?” you said confused, “baby, angel.” he reassured you.

Thank you guys for interacting with my previous post!! This is the first time i’ve ever written anything like this and hope you guys like it! (this randomly came to mind whilst i was walking my dog) 🫶🏻

TAGLIST: @jinnie-ret @kaiso-woo @kaciidubs @surfinminho @seungminssangel @astayinwonderland @helloimnini @got-me-seein-stars @queen-in-the-shadows 💞

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

What is Gallifreyan music like? Do they have any traditional instruments?

What is Gallifreyan music like?

🎶 Traditional Instruments

Pianalaika: A complex string instrument, which reason tells us might combine elements of a piano and a balalaika. It produces a wide range of tones and is favoured for its versatility.

Harp: Harps are common on Gallifrey and are often associated with high-status individuals and formal occasions. Students learn to play them at the academy. Also very notable is the Harp of Rassilon. Situated in the High Council chambers, this harp is not just a musical instrument but also a key. It's associated with "Rassilon's Lament," a piece of music that opens a secret door when played correctly.

Unknown Bronze Spherical Instrument: This doesn't have a name that we know of, but is usually adorned with High Gallifreyan glyphs. When held, it emits music that represents the user's current emotional state, like a musical mood ring.

Perigosto Sticks: Used in a Time Lord juggling game, these sticks are also designed as musical wind instruments.

🎤 Musical Genres and Styles

White Noise Symphonies: Known for being very loud, these symphonies are a unique genre on Gallifrey. They may involve intricate layers of sound that create an immersive auditory experience or even be used as an aid to psionics to help them calm their minds.

Shobogan Folk Music: Energetic and rhythmic, this music accompanies Shobogan folk dancing, which is pretty common and involves vigorous, communal dance styles.

Foxtrot of Rassilon: A traditional Time Lord waltz.

📈 Music Chart

Gallifreyan society keeps track of popular music trends through a top twenty music chart. This chart reflects the tastes and preferences of the populace, blending traditional and contemporary sounds.

🎻 Cultural Practices

Musicians and Performers: Various plebeian classes include musicians who play an essential role in cultural and social events.

Shobogan Folk Dancing: This dance style is energetic and communal, often performed to the matching folk music.

🏫 So ...

Gallifreyan music is a kind of blend of traditional instruments, unique genres, and engrained cultural practices. Humans can definitely relate to a few of them, and others not so much. So next time your Time Lord sits down and listens to some white noise, remember that's basically them listening to Taylor Swift.

Related:

💬|⏰👽What does the Gallifreyan political and social environment look like?: Overview of the general structure of Gallifreyan society and politics.

💬|⏰🏪Do Gallifreyans have grocery stores?: Food and food technology on Gallifrey.

💬|⏰📺What’s on Time Lord TV?: Visual entertainment on Gallifrey

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[madamefluffnstuff]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @hircines-hunter and @sanza-17!

Ughhhh this week has been so hectic, I think I need a solid 72 straight hours of sleep 😩

I mentioned before my Ursalie is very shy and hates confrontation. But, with her status as "Hero of the Covenant", she usually finds herself stuck in their very tense meetings.

Ursalie's eyes glanced over the masked piece of her hooded cowl, her intense gaze flitted around the makeshift council room. Honey-colored irises darted from corner to corner like a trapped rabbit trying to plan an escape. In a practiced motion, the Breton mage pulled her hood closer to her face, mimicking an attempt to stave off the slight chill in the air.

Things were going... about as well as one would have expected; Skordo and Darien were standing on opposite ends of the big oak table in the center of the room, barking "ideas" for the next tactical push against Angof. And loudly disagreeing with each other. Jakarn somehow managed to sweet talk his way in, but wasn't exactly participating. Any time he spoke up, he played with a very shiny coin in his hand, expertly rolling it in and around his fingers while he talked.

No one was paying attention to the honeyed words leaving his lips, but they surely noticed when the gold was passing through his hands.

Ursalie jumped when the distinct noise of a gauntlet-covered fist slammed against the wooden surface, and she looked up to see Skordo's clenched fist and him gritting his teeth. "Gods damn it, Darien! How can you not see your plan- If you can call it that - is practically a suicide mission!?" He yelled.

"I never said it was a solidified plan, Skordo," Darien replied as he leaned over, hands planted on the war table to hold himself up.

🎶 Somebody's 'bout to get their ass beat 🎶

[batcavescolony]

Ok had to Buy TBOSAS to watch it but here we go!

I love Jessup helping Lucy Grey down from the train.

Tom Blyth is a good actor he almost ALMOST makes me feel bad for Coriolanus Snow. I did also just read SOTR so I do have his future actions fresh in my mind.

Rachel Zegler is good though.

the vibe is like old but modern.

I like Lucy Grey

If looks could kill Dean Highbottom would have killed Coriolanus Snow right then.

Lucy Grey full named Jessup.

Awww I'd almost feel bad for him if he wasn't Coriolanus Snow.

Shut up you old bag (grandma'am)

Poor Jessup, I like Reaper.

The snakes are pretty, horrify but pretty sucks to be Clemmie.

Jessup isn't doing so hot.

The explosion was a really cool shot.

Where did she get the guitar?

What's he doing? I don't remember this in the book.

Look at all the places to hide.

He put the rat poison in the compact.

Id think he was an ok person if I didn't know his thoughts from the book.

Are they playing real or not?

"Smile, it's why we have teeth"

WOVEY 😭 she went to hold Lucy Grey's hand.

I'm with Sejanus fuck yall.

REAPER IS PROTECTING DILL 😭

RUN LUCY GREY.

Oh poor Jessup.

"To the children watching that was violent horrific and disgusting" no shit Lucky

Marcus is down.

They flinch like... Yeah babe it is horrific.

"Party of 2 and a highchair" Caesar?

He could have hopped that turnstile, just saying.

Oh look a broken bow and arrow... No reason for that to have a close up shot.

Again if I didn't know his internal thoughts from the books I'd think he's getting a genuinely good person.

Poor Jessup 😭

They still haven't figured out the damn drones.

Now I imagined like actual beams not concrete.

Dill is Lucy Grey's firat kill.

Reaper is gathering the bodies 😭

Oh no everyone is pissed he took down the flag.... That's does represent anything at all.

I was wondering how they would make the jabberjays.

WOVEY😭 reaper was trying to help her.

The rest died by snakes?

The way Lucky keeps saying the mentors names instead of the tributes 🔪

Ahhhhhh The Old Therebefore 😭 I just finished SOTR

Look at her painting her poster.

Dill and other guy that ditched his district partner are her only kills?

"Coriolanus Snow is the victor of the 10th annual Hunger Games" actually that's Lucy Grey

Clemensia is never brought back? She not scally?

Sejanus is here!

Peacekeaper time for Coryo!

Looks guys a man they say murdered three!

The jabberjays!

Tom's roots are showing and the next scene they're not (his roots show through sometimes I understand it's hard to bleach his hair every day but funny to see)

Maude Ivory ❤

I like the feathers in Lucy Grey's hair

No one wants you here Billy Taupe.

Hey I know that song.

Damn it I'm seeing SOTR parallels and I don't like it. Get that White haired piece of shit out of their meadow!

Listen to Dean Highbottom Lucy Grey! Don't trust him.

We're not bringing Sejanus.

Finally! We get to see the lake and little house, It's about time. Only took five movies.

Clerk Carmine 😭

Lowercase katniss, she said Katniss and Coriolanus felt that ripple through the timeline.

The jabberjays are so interesting, I love them.

Coriolanus, she wrote you a song. You can at least listen to it. (Also this is so much more insane in the books cus she preforms it after Coriolanus kills Mayfair. So it's basically her seeing him kill Mayfair and going 'you're still pure as the driven snow')

Maude Ivory: 🎶keep on the sunny side🎶

Oh shit they played the recording so Sejanus knows Coriolanus was a rat.

SEJANUS 😭😭😭 NOOOOOOO. RIP you would have love the revolution that happens in 65 years.

Ok also this makes no sense, he knows to go to the hanging tree cus she sang it at the base commanders party after Pure as the driven Snow, but I digress.

Lucy Grey is suspicious, who's the third Coriolanus?

Run Lucy Grey Run, he's is going crazy.

Good snake, bite his stupid ass.

He took her ear ring from the forest floor? Will that come back in SOTR?

The Mockinjay's and Jabberjay's singing The Hanging Tree ❤

Morphling, did they show that in the og trilogy?

"I think you look just like you father, Coriolanus" oof. When do you think Tigris decided her cousin needed to be stopped? She was part of the rebellion in Mockinjay.

The beginning of Snow poisoning people.