#I drafted a few things but my job tires me out :(

[minhyungsluvr]

MARK + 00' LINE | FIGHTS WITH THEM

a/n: would you believe this has been in the drafts for a year now!!! The dialogue kicked my ass, but alas I prevailed

MARK: NOT TAKING CARE OF HIMSELF

He had texted you, saying it was another late practice. For the past week he had left earlier in the morning, and came back late at night barely able to keep his eyes open long enough to slip into bed beside you. You had brought it up before, or tried to, and he brushed you off. Saying it was apart of his job, he doesn't need a break, he feels fine. You not even sure if he's eating properly. The final straw was when he came home late again, this time you were away waiting on him. Like clock work, he comes through the door sluggishly. Movements slow, eyes heavy from lack of sleep. It almost pained you to bring it up now when the last thing he probably wanted was to hear you fuss over him again. But if you didn't bring it up now, then would you be able to again. "Mark, this really isn't healthy. You're not sleeping, I'm not sure your even eating meals. I'm sure you can afford a couple of days to relax." You spoke softly, hoping that keeping your voice soft would slim the chances of a fight starting. That didn't work. "Baby..." he started with a sigh. " I really don't want get into this tonight, I'm tired" he said as he walked past you to get to the bedroom. You followed him, still trying to make your point. "I'm not trying to nag or anything, but I just want you to start taking better care of yourself". He's still not listening to you, he to busy chaning into his pajamas. "Are you listening to me", you ask, now feeling frustrated. "I am, and I mean it when I say I'm fine. So can you please drop it so we cam go sleep." He turns to you as he speaks, waiting for you to say something else before moving. You nod once, "okay, fine." You slip under the covers, back towards him, you don't say goodnight and neither does he.

RENJUN: NOT WANTING TO MEET YOUR FRIENDS

Renjun was your first serious relationship, and you had hoped he'd be your last. He was everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. He was caring, you had similar interests, and be made time for you despite his busy schedule. You've met a lot of the members of his group, you loved their dynamic. The way they were like family, how they were able to joke with each other like brothers. Your relationship was moving beautifully, until you invited him to brunch with some of your friends. When you asked, he Immediately froze up. Stumbling over his words to give you a quick, barely thought out excuse of why he would be busy during that time. You asked him again a week later, this time it was bowling. And again, he suddenly had to go do something with his members that he just thought about. It had been a month of bad excuses and dodging ever attempt at trying to meet your friends. They were starting to think you were making it up. It came to the point where you had to confront his about it. On a day where he was most definitely not bust you asked him again, "do you want to come with me a few friends for lunch"? You could feel him tense from his position on you as you both were stretched across the couch. "Ummm....." he started, beginning to sit up. "Why don't you want to meet my friends? I've met yours, and it was a lot of them." You spoke, exasperated. He starts looked around, like he's trying to find another excuse. "Stop" You saying, now also sitting up, "be honest with me Renjun. Why do you keep lying?" He hears your voice wobble, see your eyes get glossy. "I just don't understand, I've told how important my friends are to me and you won't even try to meet them." He's quick to console you as a tesr finally makes its way down your cheek. "It's not that I don't want to, I'm just nervous. I know how much they mean to you, and-" You cut him off, " I really like Renjun, and for us to get build our relationship your going to have to meet the important people in my life like I've met yours." You had taken his hand in yours, giving reassuring squeezes every now and then as he let your words sink in.

HEACHAN: DOESN'T TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY

This problem has been festering for a minute, and it’s probably your fault the situation is as big as it is. You should’ve brought it up when it was only a small issue, not when you came home from work later than usual with an attitude because your boss is a jerk. All you wanted was to come home to a clean and quiet home, instead you walk through the door to hear your boyfriend yelling through from the bedroom. All the dirty dishes were piled up in the sink, including the ones from the morning that you asked him to clean before you got home. When you walked in the room to ask him about the mess that was your kitchen, you didn’t want it to turn into a fight. It started with you asking him why he didn’t wash the dishes like you asked, especially since he was home all day. Then it ended with you accusing him of never taking you seriously. “What do you mean I don’t take you seriously?” he asked, no longer shouting. “I mean exactly what I said, you don’t take me seriously. When I tell you something you only joke about it.” The frustration was on your face and his as you started listing instances where he turned what you were feeling or what you said into a joke. Hot tears welled up in your eyes as you kept talking, anger building up from the long day you had and the argument you were having with Haechan. Seeing your face, how tired you looked, he calmed down. “Gorgeous, why have you never brought this up earlier?” You shrugged,feeling all the fight leave at his quiet tone. "Look, I promise to start listening better if start telling me how your feeling before it blows up." He stands in front of you, head tilting down to meet your teary eyes. He's only given a single nod, but the small, barely there smile on your face tells him everything will be alright.

JENO: FORGETTING IMPORTANT DATES

It's embarrassing, humiliating! You sit alone, at a table for two, in a restaurant with fancy lights, all by yourself. Looks of pity are being thrown from across the restaurant as you check the time of your phone for the fourt time that minute. Nope, still no text from Jeno. No text saying he's late, no text telling you why he hadn't shown up yet, not even a text to cancel. You could feel your face heat up as other couples walked past to get to their tables. Finally you gave up, you've waited thirty minutes too long. Walking out the restaurant, you call him, eager to see what held him up. "Hello" he answers on the first ring, "y/n..... are you there"? You had froze, he didn't show up to dinner because he was sleep! Not because he was in some life threatening situation. After the last time he had missed a date, he promised that he wouldn't miss another. Or at the very least let you know ahead of time why he couldn't come. You held the phone for another second before answering. "Did you forget about out plans" you ask. You hear him cuss quietly on the phone, before there is a rustling sound. Probably him fighting with his sheets to get out the bed. "I'm so sorry", he starts, "tell me where you are and I'll meet you there, ok sweetheart." He throws the pet name on at the end, knowing what it does to you. But it doesn't have the same effect this time. "Don't worry about it Jeno, I'm going home." You hung up before he was able to answer. He wasted no time calling you back while getting dressed, each called went ignored and only fueled him to move faster to meet you. By the time he showed up at your door, all his calls and texts still went unanswered. He could only hope you'd answer the door so he could try and make it right.

JAEMIN: NOT MAKING TIME FOR YOU

Of course you knew how busy he was before you even started dating. But if he was able to make time for you when you were just friends, you assumed that wouldn't change when he became your boyfriend. You'd spend weekends together watching romcoms, going out to eat, and now your lucky if you see him at least once a month. At first you blamed it on comeback season. Then of course there was the tour. But now he was back, and the most he done is respond to your texts telling you he's made it back home, or to laugh at a meme you've sent. You'd ask if he was free one day to come over, to hang out, he says he can't because he's playing games with Jeno. A new movie with your favorite actress just came out, and he can't see it with you because he's already getting lunch with the members. This goes on for a while, you trying to set dates up and him declining because he already has plans. You and your relationship have been pushed aside for a while, and you were sick of it. You called him on night, to ask him when he'd be free next. "I'm not really sure, I was going to spend some time just relaxing." Normally, he would've invited you over, but your not sure whats going on with him now. "Jaemin, are you tired of me?" He makes a noise of surprise over the phone, "What makes you say that, you know I'm crazy about you". You sigh, "It's like you don't want to be around me anymore. You're always busy, but not to busy for everyone else." It's a hot minute before he answers, "I didn't realize I was making you feel like that, I didn't even realize I was pulling away from you". "I understand that your busy, but I don't know...." you trail off. "No, I get it, I do. And I'm sorry", he says, "I just need to find balance is all. But don't think you're not important to me". His reassuring words bring a smile back to your face, "so are you going to be free soon" you ask hoping his answer would be different from earlier.

[bakersgrief]

A/n: I know I promised a history lesson, but I hated the first draft and scrapped it. My sources ended up being from Edo period Japan anyway, so. Eh. Whatever! Hope you like <3

WARNINGS: Pegging, a bit of spanking, gn reader, top reader

Kenshin was skeptical when they first brought it up.

"But... why would you want to do those kinds of things with me?"

He shook his head.

"Surely it would bring you no pleasure."

His lover huffed in amusement.

"It's not like that, exactly." They thought for a moment, thinking of the best way to explain it.

"I get my pleasure from your pleasure."

They moved closer to him, putting a hand on his arm. Kenshin seemed dubious.

"Surely you feel the same way, right?" They asked.

"...You aren't wrong," Kenshin still looked skeptical. "But isn't it my job to pleasure you? Not the other way around."

They nearly buried their face in his shoulder to hide their exasperation. Of course he would be worried about something like that at a time like this.

Deciding to use their trump card, Kenshin's lover gave him their best puppy dog eyes and pouted.

"Please?"

Kenshin nearly melted.

"...If it is truly your wish, I will not deny you. Even if I would rather spend our time together seeing you in the throes of ecstasy rather than myself."

His lover had to hide their blush at that. This time they really did bury their face in his shoulder, wrapping their arms around his muscular chest.

A few days later (with some help from Shingen, because of course he knew where to find these kinds things) Kenshin and his dearly beloved found themselves in their shared room, preparing themselves for a new experience as a couple.

Kenshin could barely pull himself away from their passionate kisses, nearly pinning his love under him and proceeding with their usual frenzied lovemaking.

However, his lover managed to push him off of them and stood up, carefully winding the straps of the necessary implement around their waist, hips, and thighs.

Kenshin watched, mesmerized. He could never grow tired of the sight of the moonlight on their bare skin. The way the shadows caressed their curves.

In moments like these he was no longer The God of War, but a mere man worshipping a diety, his diety, a diety of love and beauty. Kenshin knelt at their feet, cupping their backside as he reverently kissed their hips and waist.

His lover chuckled above him, petting his hair.

"I'm going to need you to lie on your stomach for me. Okay?" They asked.

Kenshin did as he was instructed, laying his head on his crossed arms and frowning at the feeling of his naked body splayed out in such a manner. It was... different. A vulnerable position. However, it was only Them seeing him like this. His moon and stars. So he forced himself to relax in order to please the person he loved most.

They kissed the back of his shoulders reassuringly, trailing their slender fingers down the planes of his back and spine. It earned a pleased sigh from the man.

"This will be the best position, I think." They murmured.

Kenshin nodded, starting to get impatient. He was already hard from their kissing and petting- of course he was. How could he not be aroused after even a simple kiss from his reason for existence?

Said reason knelt behind him, between his legs, spreading his muscular ass and reaching down to rub his taint.

"Hmmm. Mmm, haaaaa..."

Kenshin sighed at the sensation. His lover continued rubbing him, eventually moving their fingers to rub at his tight hole.

His body slowly relaxed, becoming more and more pliable under their sensual caresses until they pulled away to apply oil to their digits. They rubbed some along his entrance before very slowly pushing a fingertip inside.

Kenshin's breath hitched. He opened his eyes to watch his darling, who just so happened to be watching him for a reaction at the same time. The two smiled softly at each other before Kenshin's lover pushed their finger all the way in, causing Kenshin to bury his face in his arms to hide the embarrassing noise he had let out at the sensation.

"Shhh. Don't tense up, my love. Relax." They whispered.

Kenshin's breathing grew heavy, but he did his best to let all the expectant tension ease out of him.

After a few thrusts another finger joined the first, stretching him out. Kenshin buried his face deeper in his arms, unconsciously wiggling his hips a bit.

"MmmmmMMM! Ahhhh..." Kenshin gasped as a third finger joined, feeling his muscles contract as his body adjusted to the intrusion. Being stretched like this was new, indeed. But his heart was racing and his impatience for the promised pleasure grew.

The God of War had never been a patient man to begin with, after all.

"Are you quite ready yet?" He mumbled over his shoulder.

His lover laughed their adorable, charming laugh, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips.

"Are you ready, my love?" They asked.

"Of course I am ready." Was his reply.

Leaning back, Kenshin's partner oiled their fake cock liberally, letting out a pleased hum upon seeing him watching them with half lidded eyes.

Firmly grasping his asscheeks, they spread them open and pushed the head of the toy against his opening, using a hand to guide it in.

"Hng, hrg!" Kenshin grunted. It was thicker and longer than their fingers, stretching him out even more. And there was a ridge near the tip of the toy that was scraping his insides in a way that had him shuddering.

Behind him, Kenshin's lover leaned over him, pressing hot kisses to the back of his neck. As they bottomed out, their kisses turned into biting and sucking.

"Ahh, haa... haa..."

"Mmm, haaa... hnn..."

Their heated moans and gasps intermingled in the steamy air of their bedroom.

Kenshin's love chuckled lowly in his ear.

"Ahhh, I wish I had you on your back right now."

Thrust

"AAH!"

Kenshin moaned loudly in surprise at the first harsh thrust. He could feel his lover trembling in excitement as they pressed themselves against his back.

"I wanna watch your cock bounce and twitch while I fuck you, my love."

Thrust

"HNN!" Kenshin gasped and panted. Was this the prostate? The sweet spot inside a man they had mentioned?

"I wish I had you folded in half-"

Thrust

"Ah!"

"So I could see your pretty face-"

Thrust

"And watch you cum-"

Thrust

"All over-"

Thrust

"Yourself-"

Thrust

"When you-"

Thrust

"Orgasm!"

Kenshin was whimpering into his arms now as he was being pounded from behind. He knew his lover could get rough but this- all of it- was so new, and different, and overwhelming-

Kenshin shuddered in ecstasy as every thrust felt as if it knocked the breath out of his body.

"Hm, mm! Ahh, ahh, haa..."

Fuck. Was he drooling? Probably. Everything was just so delicious.

Kenshin felt his stomach tighten, his cock twitch. Was he going to cum? So soon?

Having the sensitive spot inside him abused in such a way had him careening toward an orgasm. Kenshin toppled over the edge, mewling and squirming in an utterly undignified way as the futon beneath him was painted white.

"Haa... haha... was that good, my dear? Did you like that?"

Kenshin whimpered. They were, they were still- fuck- going-!

"Hnnn, guh, uhn-" Kenshin's words failed him. His brain felt as if it had melted into a puddle of mush as his lover kept their merciless pace.

Behind him, his lover was sucking and biting his shoulders as if to claim him as their own. He already was.

"Sounds like you liked it, my love. You make, haa, such pretty noises like this. How about- since you like it so much- haa, I- fuck- milk you for all you're worth, huh?"

Slap! Slap! Slap!

The sound of hips slapping against Kenshin's ass rang throughout the room as he mumbled incoherently in response.

"I'm so lucky." They whispered.

"So lucky I get to see you like this, my dear. I don't think, haa, I'm going to be done any time soon. Just, uhnn, hang on for me, my love. All right?"

Slap! Slap! Slap!

"MMMMMMMMM uhn!"

Taglist: @shadowylakes @floydsteeth @sh0jun @rou-luxe @mxrmaid-poet @anonymousnamedhera @kanatashinkaifr @rookkunt

@oda-princess this was your request right :3

Kenshin: @cherrykasugayama

[narizaki]

spring's  in  your  blood  ―  h. shoyo

tags   4+1,   gn!reader,   very light angst i think?,   fluff

notes   the four seasons that pass in shoyo's absence and the one that doesn't,   wc 2.4k,   this has been rotting in my drafts for like 3 weeks

spring 2016

spring represents many things.

come the new season, spring marks the end of winter. it greets you with blooming flowers and budding trees and animals awakening from their slumber. it rewards you for surviving the desolate season just a month before; the one that was full of powdery snow and gray clouds and the seemingly bottomless pit in your gut. 

it signifies the beginning of many things. like the new school year, where you meet dozens of new people and get lost in the hallways and try to keep up with your work. or a new job, where you (once again) have to acclimatize to a new environment in addition to the endless list of demands. 

spring symbolizes hope — the birth of something new and shiny and ready for taking. 

what people forget, though, is that loss waits for no one. it comes when it wants to; all at once or one at a time, until you’re so full of it that you’re not sure what to do anymore. it forces you to curl into a ball at the end of your bed, your breath the only thing keeping you warm.

you lost many things during spring. 

your youth, for one. graduations are meant to be happy ceremonies — celebrating the student for their years of hard work, and wishing them good luck in their future endeavors. 

to you, graduation was only a bitter reminder that you and your friends were going separate ways. that you were growing up.

the loss of your relationships followed your youth. even if the majority of your friends weren’t moving far, if at all, there was a mutual understanding that your relationships would drift. it was only natural — balancing friendships with work and school became tiring after a while. when you had sulked over the change of pace, tsukishima had called you stupid and dramatic. 

but when you both stood next to each other in the chill of the airport, you knew he understood. 

hinata shoyo was someone important to both of you, even if the blonde would rather die than agree. that’s okay — you’d rather have shoyo to yourself.

spring is when you lost shoyo. when he flew across the world to pursue his dreams and to get better so he could continue doing something he loved. you understood; shoyo had been headstrong and put his all into everything he did, even the most mundane. he would go to the ends of the earth if it meant he could keep playing volleyball, and that’s exactly what he did.

it was why you fell in love with him, so you let him go.

summer 2016

you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the summer heat, in the same way you don’t think you’ll ever get used to shoyo being across the world. 

tsukishima might’ve been right when he called you dramatic — it’s only been a few months and you think you’ve already been depleted of shoyo, with his bright orange hair and his endless amount of stamina and the positive energy he radiated no matter the circumstances.

he’s kept steady contact with you since his departure, much to your surprise. you’d thought the boy would get too caught up in his head admiring the new scenery and people — so when the first phone call you get is at 3 in the morning the day after he leaves, you’re equally surprised as you are confused. 

“ah, sorry!” he exclaimed, having heard you yawn into the phone. “i can call you back later. i forgot what time it was over there. i’m sorry!” 

you could only let out a small, tired laugh, telling him it was fine and that any contact was better than none.

neither of you get used to the time difference. shoyo still calls you at ungodly hours in the morning, profusely apologizing when you wake up bleary-eyed with a raspy voice because it’s the middle of the afternoon in brazil. you still call him at the start of each day, when it’s far too late for an athlete to be awake. 

he always picks up.

you don't mention it, nor do you allow yourself to think too deeply about it.

the two of you talk about everything and nothing at once. shoyo tells you of his introverted roommate and his new job as a delivery boy — you think the way he gushes over the bike he uses to commute is cute. you talk about your job, and how he should be glad he decided to not go to college because fuck does it suck. you’ve pulled more all-nighters than you have in your entire life within the few months that have passed. 

“did you ever find your wallet?” you ask. shoyo had texted you a week ago, sulking over how someone plucked his wallet from his back pocket when he got lost. you knew it was special to him — natsu had gotten him it, after all. 

“no, i didn’t,” he sighs, and you frown. “but! i did run into oikawa!” 

“ah, yeah,” you giggle, “saw the photo you sent. did you send it to kageyama?” 

“sure did! had to show off to him,” he bragged, “oikawa and i went to one of my favorite restaurants. think he helped me out of my slump from losing my wallet. hey, if you ever come to brazil, i’ll be sure to bring you there!” 

“i’ll be waiting. and, slump?” you question. you knew losing something valuable would suck for anyone, but you weren’t aware it’d pulled the spiker into a depressed state. it wasn't in shoyo’s nature to be depressed, you mused. typically, he was the one pulling people out of their slumps. 

“yeah, i got all homesick and stuff when i found out i lost it,” shoyo replies, much quieter. “it was like i lost a piece of home, y’know. i miss you guys.” his voice trails off at the end, an almost melancholy hint to it. 

you’re unsure what to say — in your few years of knowing him, you can count the number of times you've seen shoyo genuinely upset on one hand. you hope your hum of understanding comforts him. 

“well, if it makes you feel any better, everyone back here misses you too.” 

you resist the urge to say that you miss him.

“i’d hope so,” is his reply.

fall 2017

fall welcomes you kindly. you become better-accustomed with managing your time, and school no longer has as harsh of a hold on you as it did during the blazing months of summer in your first year of college. a soothing chill has settled along the city — not cold enough to make your nose twitch and turn red, but you’ve started wearing an extra layer and covering your neck with the scarf you bought with shoyo when you were second years. 

you and shoyo still talk rather often — although the phone calls have noticeably slowed, as he’s found himself a solid partner for beach volleyball. heitor, if you recall correctly. you suppose it’s your fault as much as it is his, even if you know you could never truly blame him. while you have gotten better at balancing schoolwork, it’s only diminished the small amount of free time you already had. 

you’re not mad. you don’t think you could even feel upset at shoyo for something you should’ve seen coming from the start. what were you expecting? you should’ve known that you would drift away from him, because you knew that was what happened to almost everyone after they graduate highschool. you knew this — it was the first thought you had when you had received the slip of paper that signified the end of your youth. 

you suppose you’d grown too used to shoyo’s presence to notice the change earlier.

you try to talk to shoyo as much as he talks to you, but he’d always been better at it. it was in his nature to be social more than it had been yours, if his endless number of friends were to tell you anything. you’re sure he’s made good relations in brazil, even as a foreigner.

sometimes, you’ll see his occasional posts online of his endeavors — photos of the beach when the sun has barely risen, the ocean sparkling in the light, or they’ll be of the food he’s made, usually a homely japanese dish. you’ve even seen a picture or two of him watching one piece on a dinky t.v., and you distantly remember shoyo telling you about how he was able to bond with his roommate over the show.

you hope he’s doing well — conquering his dreams, that is.

winter 2017

winter does, as expected, not treat you nicely. 

the chill it brings engulfs your entire figure, forcing you to wear layer upon layer and keep a few extra heat packets in the pockets of your backpack. even if fall gave you time to prepare, it will never be enough with the way winter comes at you with full force.

you suppose that’s why so many holidays occur during winter — christmas, new years, valentines day…the list goes on. people need a reason to distract themselves from the biting cold that forces a hole open in their hearts, only to close when the weather warms once again.

winter only widens the ever-present one in yours.

you can feel the pit in your stomach open more and more as the days pass. despite school not being in session, your time is filled to the brim with work and other priorities, leaving little to no space for your loved ones. you managed to find time to see your friends from high school — everyone but shoyo. even while karasuno’s old volleyball team is bundled together, complete with coach ukai and takeda, there’s still a space where you know he should be. 

and if you look upset staring at an empty space in the wall, no one mentions it.

the holidays pass by with little notice. you join your family in celebrations, greet your high school and college friends alike when they arrive. 

you send shoyo the same greetings — albeit with the timing likely off due to the time difference. regardless, he greets you back with the same fervor he’s had since the moment you met him. you like his message, planning on continuing on with your day by staying in bed watching the same three cheesy holiday movies they play every winter. you have work tomorrow, so you hope to savor the small amount of free time you have left, even if it’s spent rotting in bed. 

your phone buzzes from next to you, and you’re half-expecting it to be a spam call. when you read the id, you’re surprised to see shoyo’s name — there’d been long enough gaps between calls that you had lost the habit of expecting them, and you recall the most recent one being maybe a month ago. 

(the calls have slowed even more. you try to not think about it — try not to let yourself be hurt by it.)

you press accept and bring the device to your ear. 

“happy holidays!” shoyo exclaims over the static. even if it’s been over a year since you've last seen him, his energy is still contagious as ever. the corners of your lips quirk up in a nostalgic smile. 

“happy holidays, shoyo,” you reply, much calmer than your companion. 

conversation comes easily from there — the once empty air around you is filled with the stories shoyo has and your amused giggles. you tell him about his old teammates, and he whines over his and kageyama’s childish scores. for reasons that don't surprise you, they’ve managed to keep track of scores regarding anything they could consider a competition despite shoyo being in another country.

there’s a moment of silence that beats on for a second too long — you’re about to say your goodbyes and hang up, but shoyo takes it as a chance to tell you why he called you.

“i’m coming back this spring,” he says, voice softer than what you’d grown accustomed to. your grip tightens against the pillow you're hugging against your frame, eyes widening. 

“really?” you gasp, shocked. 

“really.” he repeats, and you know he’s smiling, even if you can't see him. 

spring 2018

over the past two years shoyo has spent in brazil, patience is truly a virtue he has learned. mastered, dare he say. 

everything took time. cleaning his room. his roommate warming up to him. learning how to play beach volleyball. speaking a new language. maintaining a routine. learning how to fly again. 

sometimes, though, he wonders what his life would’ve been like had he stayed in japan. would he still be as strong as he is now, without having to leave his life behind? shoyo knew that his departure was sudden — nobody expects a high schooler to up and leave the country the second they graduate, after all. even kageyama stayed in japan, going to the olympics shortly after they had completed high school.

shoyo knows what he left back in japan when he stood in the airport two years ago. that day, he left everything he knew — his mom, his sister, his friends, volleyball as he knew it, and  you.

he’s waited for you for the past two years. 

brazil taught him how to be a better volleyball player — showed him the importance of routine and training your body. it taught him to not rush into things, and that everything would come to him in due time. 

so, in the same chill of the airport he left you in, shoyo meets you again. you’re staring at him, and it feels as if you are the only people in the building. he knows that his friends are waiting just by the two of you, but all he can focus on is you and the way your lips are slightly parted in awe and how much you’ve grown while he was gone and how much he wants to kiss you.

shoyo takes careful steps towards you, the same boyish grin you’d grown to love adorning his face. you’re frozen in place, but he figures that it’s okay because he’ll come to you. it’s the least he could do after leaving you in his wake just a few years back. 

when he’s finally face-to-face with you, you’re still star-struck.

“you’re back,” you breathe. 

“i’m back,” shoyo replies. he presses forward, cups your face in his hands, and kisses you, just how he wanted to all those years ago.

he can taste the salty flavor of your tears, and he nearly pulls back in concern, but you stop him. your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. there’s an equal mix of cheers as there are sounds of disgust, but neither of you pay any mind.

the only thing that either of you are focused on is the fact that shoyo’s here, and he’s here to stay. 

[moonflvver]

Starlight

character: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

warnings: angst (with fluff)

a/n: This is probably one of my favorite pieces about Bakugou that I've written. Also, I'm clearing out my drafts so expect an influx of posts over the next few days. And I'm getting back into mha so trust that there will be lots of Katsuki content in the future lol.

w/c: 1297

He was running his fingers through his hair as his jaw clenched. “What the fuck do you want from me then? What do you want? Because I just can’t figure it out. No matter what I do for you it’s never enough.”

You sighed, you were getting tired of having the same argument with him over and over again. And now of course he was turning this on you. Of course Bakugou Katsuki just couldn’t fucking admit that he was in the wrong for once. 

“What I want is for you to care about yourself Katsuki. I want you to stop overexerting yourself and coming home with an injury every other night. I want to trust that you’ll be safe when you’re out there.” You were trying your hardest not to let him hear your voice shake but it cracked mid-sentence nonetheless. 

It was just too much. God you loved him, of course you did. But he was too stubborn for his own good and he refused to stop pushing himself to the very edge of his limits. But that’s the thing about Bakugou, he’s a star. I mean it sounds silly to say but it’s true. 

He’s not just good at what he does, he’s great. But there’s something in him that refuses to let him enjoy what he has at any given moment and that’s the problem. They say that the stars that shine the brightest burn out the fastest and you know Katsuki better than anyone, so it’s clear to you that he’s just one mission away from crashing and burning. Which is why you can’t stop. If he won’t care for himself then you have to do it for him. 

“You don’t get it do you? I can’t just stop doing my job. People need me, people depend on me. I keep this city safe. I won’t drop it all just for you.” He shouted back. 

“Just for me, are you serious? Do I really mean that little to you, that you’d choose your own self destructive tendencies over me?” You’re crying now, tears are running down your face as you look at him. “I need you too, Katsuki.” You mumble, looking up at him.

Fuck. He looks exhausted and you’re sure that you don’t look any better, especially not after all of the crying you’ve been doing. But it’s clear that the long hours he’s been working have taken a serious toll on him and it makes you sob just a bit harder. 

His head is in his hands now as he says, “Shit y/n I didn’t mean that. I just-” But before he can finish you stop him. 

“I can’t watch you implode like this, I can’t stand by while you do this to yourself. I was so stupid to think that you’d actually change. But it doesn’t matter. You’re still that same impulsive, stubborn little kid that you were in highschool.” He knows you don’t mean it, he can tell by the fatigue that’s evident in your voice. You’re done. You’re clearly just grasping for straws at this point. There’s no fight left in you anymore and it’s all his fault. Fuck, of course he ended up pushing away the one person who’s remained consistently by his side.

The person who makes him lunch, who reminds him to take care of himself. Who always texts him on patrol asking him how he is no matter how late it is. He can’t let you leave, he just can’t. He wants to scream, he wants to fucking cry, he wants to let himself crash and burn and he doesn’t want you picking up the pieces. He just wants to be left alone but there’s a part of him that needs you more than the air that he breathes. And that part of him just can’t allow you to go. 

He’s taken you for granted, he knows that. He knew that his rise to the top would put a strain on your relationship but he had convinced himself that he would be able to figure it out. I mean of course he would, Bakugo Katsuki can do anything. Right? Anything except for preventing himself from getting completely and utterly blindsided by his own goals apparently. 

You’re grabbing your keys to walk out and take a breather but then he stands up, abruptly grabbing your arm.

You look up at him in mild shock. “Bakugou what are you-” 

“Don’t go.” He says, and it comes out as a quiet whisper. “Please don’t go, I’m sorry. Okay? I am so fucking sorry, just please don’t leave.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so desperate.

He looks down, lets your wrist drop. And now he’s just waiting for you to say anything, anything at all. You sigh, dropping your keys back down onto the table. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” He echoes back as his head comes up and you see that his eyes are full of tears. 

You step forward taking him into your arms and he buries himself into your chest as you stroke his back. You inhale that familiar caramel scent that always seems to linger around him, a scent that reminds you of home, a scent that never fails to make you melt into his arms. He makes you feel so at home whenever you’re near him, you just want to hold onto him forever. You open your mouth and just as you’re about to say something to him he pulls away, pausing for a moment.

“I know.” He says quietly. “I know that it’s been hard for you. It’s just that no matter what I do, no matter how much I achieve it’s just that. Fuck. It’s never enough.” There are tears falling from his eyes. His long lashes are coated in the salty drops of water that won’t stop cascading down his face as he continues, “I get into this insane mindset that I could just be doing everything better, that I could be stronger, that I need to try harder. And I end up pushing you away. I end up hurting you and it’s not fair to you and I’m just really tired.” His voice cracks as he finishes and all you want right now is to take away everything that’s weighing on him and put the burden on yourself. 

Really that’s all you’ve ever wanted, just to make him hurt a little less. Because seeing him like this makes your heart ache. How could he ever think that he was anything less than good enough? Katsuki Bakugou is a star. And sometimes his light is blinding and it overwhelms you. But he’s also capable of illuminating everyone and everything around him. And he needs to know how important he is. 

You close the distance between the two of you and you swipe your thumb under his eyes hoping to clear away his tears. Your hand lingers for a moment and then you cup his face. “You are good enough. I get that it’s hard, I know how much pressure you put on yourself. But I need you to know that I see it. Even if no one else does. I see how much of yourself you’re putting into your job, I see how deeply you care.”

 He’s staring at you, practically dumbfounded. But then his eyes soften, “Thank you. Thank you for seeing me.” It comes out almost as a sigh, like he’s finally able to let go of the air that his lungs have been holding in for the past half-hour. His shoulders relax and your hands find their way into his hair as you bring him into your chest once again, mumbling into his hair. “How could I not see you? You’re too bright to ignore.”

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

for those of you asking for the garden scene (tumblr's search function is off the shits) it's below the cut. remember, the Princeton draft is from 1924-25, and it came before Trimalchio. It's handwritten and I'm still. trying to transcribe it. while working a full time job and still providing fic. it's coming. i promise.

After that I watched for Gatsby, and found him several evenings later, coming across my own lawn. He had lost a little of his ruddy tan and his eyes were bright and tired. We sat down on a bench in the yard.

“Going away?” I asked.

“No, old man. Why do you ask me that?”

“I hear you fired all your servants.”

“I had to have somebody that could keep their mouths shut,” he replied after a minute. “These two towns are pretty close together.”

“Where’d you find these?” I inquired, a little startled by the romantic revelation.

“They’re some of Wolfshiem’s people.” He broke off. “Can you come to lunch at Daisy’s house next Saturday?”

“All right.”

We sat for a few minutes in silence. Then he asked me if he could tell me about something that was on his mind, something that had happened to him when he first knew Daisy several years ago.

“Will I bore you?” He looked up quickly. “For God’s sake tell me if it’ll bore you.”

“It won’t bore me.”

They had been walking together down the street one autumn night when the leaves were falling, and they came to a place where there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight. They stopped here and turned toward each other. Now it was a cool night with that mysterious excitement in it which comes at the two changes of the year and Gatsby became aware that everything was alive. The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the darkness and there was a stir and a bustle among the stars. He took a step toward her, perceiving out of the corner of his eye that the blocks of the sidewalk formed a ladder and mounted to a roof garden above the trees where one could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.

His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the humming and the song. Then he kissed her. At his lips touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

…He didn’t really say any of this. What he said was that she had been an “ideal” of his, and that he’d never have such ideals about things or girls anymore.

“Well, you have Daisy,” I said. “After all she ought to be a pretty satisfactory incarnation of anything.”

“She is,” he answered without conviction. “But it’s a little like loving a place where you’ve once been happy.”

“You don’t know what you want,” I told him impatiently. “You wait three years and then after three weeks you’re tired.”

“We all grow old,” I told him. “It seems to me you’ve come pretty close to getting all your desires.”

“I haven’t got anything,” he said simply. “I thought for a while I had a lot of things, my house—“ He looked up at it for an instant— “and things like that. But the truth is I’m empty and I guess people feel it. That must be why they keep on making up things about me, so I won’t be so empty. Why,— Daisy’s all I’ve got left of a world that was so wonderful that when I think of it I feel sick all over.” He looked around with wild regret. “Let me sing you a song—I want to sing you a song!”

He began to sing a song in a low unmusical baritone. The tune seemed to be a rough compendium of all the tunes of twenty years ago. It went about like this:

“We hear the tinkle of the gay guitars We see the shining Southern moon; Where the fire-flies flit And the June bugs sit Drones the cricket’s single tune. We hear the lapping of the wavelets Where the lonesome nightbirds sing And the soft warm breeze Tell the tall palm trees The Dreamy Song of Spring”

“I made it up when I was fourteen,” he said eagerly, “and the sound of it always makes me perfectly happy. But I don’t sing it often now because I’m afraid I’ll use it up.”

Through all he said, even through the doggerel of the song, I was reminded of something that I had heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man’s, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound and what it was that I had almost remembered was incommunicable forever.

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - You And Me

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning(s): Internet hate, emotional struggle, lack of communication.

Proofread while I was tired and delusional :)

—————————————

We were both young and distracted. Both on top of the world with our new occupations and the luck increasingly coming our way. Jack got drafted and I got my dream job in New York. We shared our excitement with one another simply because of our eventual close proximity.

I grew up going to school with the Hughes boys. I knew them well. I knew Luke the best, mostly because my little brother was friends with him. Which was really how I met Jack and Quinn in the first place. I gravitated toward Jack the most, due to his outgoing attitude and love for most things. We were always best friends. Strictly best friends.

It came as a shock to none when we got together. People were expecting it. Anticipating it. Jack and I dated, and at first we loved that, but eventually we saw through the cracks in our facades. We were playing “glorified friendship.” Jack didn’t love me like that, and I didn’t love him like that either. Sure, the fans and those on social media loved us, but they really only saw what we considered a best friendship. We may have kissed in a few photos and held hands, but Jack and I agreed that it just never felt right.

To say the least, we were both relieved and happy to have it over and done with when we broke up. We went back to fake gagging at each other and often teasing one another with comments about, “oh I can’t believe I ever kissed you,” and “why did we ever do that?”

Those comments though, had to be put on the back burner, when I met Trevor. Luke invited my brother and me out to the lake house one summer for a time. I almost turned down the offer, but my brother insisted, and I knew Jack would be there.

What I didn’t anticipate, was all of his friends being there too.

When Jack was too busy, I usually gravitated toward Trevor. Who always seemed to find me as well. He liked to ask what I was doing, drinking, eating, reading, watching.. god he just always wanted to know what I was up to. I thought it was nice.

I especially liked it when I would slip out on the back deck in the mornings to relax in the chill air, and Trevor would bee-bop out not long after, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt pouch and glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He was often the least talkative, and I’d even venture to say shy, in the mornings.

Trevor and I became close after that. I could tell it made Jack nervous, but in the end when I asked him about dating Trevor, the middle Hughes gave his blessing.

The next summer, Trevor and I spent most of our time together at the lake house. And away from it. I took him on midnight drives. Introduced him to the wonders of rolling the windows down and screaming. He took me to his favorite mini-golf places and ice cream shops. We shared our hopes and dreams, and eventually our feelings.

Then I moved back to New York.

Long distance was shit, but Trevor visited whenever he was close enough to do so, and I visited whenever my schedule permitted. Then the second year of our relationship came, and after much discussion with my boyfriend, I made the decision to move to Anaheim.

Which was how we were eventually outed as well. People got photos of Trevor and I moving my things in just down the block from his and Jamie’s place. Which might not have looked overly suspicious, if those photos weren’t accompanied by one of us kissing too.

At first, people were happy. At first meaning maybe two days. Then I started getting comments on my social media. I started seeing people making videos and posts about how I’d dated Jack previously. People compared photos of me kissing Jack, to the one they had of me kissing Trevor.

Each new piece of content made me feel sick. Then it made me angry. Angry at Trevor’s fans, angry at jealous girls, angry at myself. Because in what world did I think this would slide by without having any issues? I was dating my exes best friend.

“Can they just shut up about it?”

I knew it hurt Trevor too, because the crazy fan girls called me a slut, but the other boy obsessed fan girls called Trevor a horrible friend. Everybody was choosing sides online. It was either;

Team Jack; which included shitting on Trevor for breaking bro-code

Team Trevor; which meant tearing Jack down for supposedly, ‘hurting me’ or ‘treating me wrong.’

Then there was simply Team Puck Bunny; where everybody attacked and berated me for jumping from guy to guy.

I wouldn’t consider it a team, more like an angry mob.

I often responded with,

“I’m sick of it too, bud. You’re not the only one.”

We went for days being frustrated, weeks even. Things simmered and simmered, then they came to a boil when I got publicly insulted in a book store.

“This is it?” I could tell the young woman had a tone in her voice, but I’d worked retail before. I knew some days just required a little bit of a hard attitude. It wasn’t until she looked up at me for the second time, that she decided to pop off.

“Did we bring Trevor’s card today?”

I was shocked. My expression spoke volumes, not to mention the way my posture quickly changed.

“What does that mean exactly?” The people behind me grew impatient, and usually I wasn’t one to cause a scene, but this girl wasn’t going to get away with such words.

“Means yours probably ran out of money after you and Jack broke up. Had to hop along to the next hockey player.”

Hop along. What a fucking joke.

I pulled my credit card back into my purse. I’d dealt with the hate for so long that at some point, I began to wonder if I did use Trevor’s money too much.

Did I talk about him too much? Mention his name too much at work? Did I get friends just because of him? How often was I really buying things and not arguing more about him handing his own card over? Was I really using him? Was Jack really upset with me?

I tried my hardest to hold back the tears as I abandoned my books at the counter. I climbed into my car, put on a pair of sunglasses, and finally let it out as I drove back to my place. It felt like I was trapped. Trapped under a microscope I didn’t want to be under. So alone. Put on a pedestal only to be laughed at. I knew Trevor was experiencing the same thing to some degree, but it wasn’t the same. The hate on him had calmed. People got over it. When would they get over me? Why couldn’t they just understand that Jack and I wanted to be friends? That we’d never been in love.

The second I got into my home, I discarded every piece of technology I had on myself. My phone, my watch, I ignored the tv and my iPad- my laptop. I made a straight line for my back deck. And when I got outside, I slammed the sliding door as hard as I could. And I cried.

I was using Trevor. Maybe people were right. Maybe I needed a normal boyfriend, with a nine to five job. Somebody who I couldn’t use and take advantage of. Somebody in my league. I just needed to hop my way out of his life and forget about him. I lowered myself into one of my deck chairs, leaning back and raising a hand to wipe at the tears on my cheeks.

Trevor needed a girl who wouldn’t accept his card. Who wouldn’t let him pay for things or gift give so much. He needed a girl who’d take care of him as much as he took care of her. That couldn’t be me. It wasn’t me. Everybody said so.

I focused in when I heard the sound of a door opening, my thoughts forgotten in a flash as I grew concerned about somebody being in my home. I sat still, and waited patiently, until I heard the glass door open. I whipped around, only to relax at the sight of Trevor. He was supposed to make things better.. did I ever make things better for him?

“Hey! I saw you pull in.. I was waiting for you to get back from the book store.” His bashful smile was one I always loved. He hated admitting that he waited for me sometimes.

Trevor quickly presented me with a small box. My face fell.

“I got you something.”

“Trevor.” I sighed out, my hand pinched the bridge of my nose. “You can’t keep buying me things.”

I turned my gaze up to him, frustrated and exhausted.

“It’s just something small. Open it.” He quickly sat down next to me, and when he held the box out, I pushed it away.

“This is the shit they hate me for, Trevor!” I shouted, I quickly took note of the hurt look on his face. “They can’t stand me-“ my voice broke. “Because they think I use you. I don’t use you!” I couldn’t tell if I was trying to convince myself at this point, or the entirety of his fan base.

Tears quickly fell down my cheeks, my face red as I tried to hold in my sobs.

“Hey, hey-“ Trevor set the box aside and pulled me into his side. “I know you don’t use me.” He cooed, his hand rubbing my back while the other grasped my thigh.

“I do. You always pay for things- and.. and I used Jack to get to you.. and I hurt Jack- I hurt Jack because we’re together,” my hysterical bumbling was nonsense. Lies I began to believe because they’d been preached too much. Trevor let me go. He let me go and get it out for as long as I needed to, listening to any and every insecurity and concern. He listened well after the tears settled and I found my composure.

I eventually turned my body to face his own, and buried my head into his shoulder.

“I don’t wanna use you, Trevor,” I choked out. “I love you so much.” He was careful in pulling me into his lap.

“You don’t, baby.. I promise you don’t use me. I love buying you things. And Jack is always telling me about how much you talk about me when he calls. He always tells me it’s nonstop. He’s happy for us. And my team is happy. Hell.. Gibby loves you.”

“Because I’m with you.”

“No. Because you’re so sweet to everybody. Because you treat them all like family, and they love having you around when we have events.”

I gripped the back of Trevor’s t-shirt with one of my hands.

“Why do you love me?” I sniffled, and lifted my face to wipe my tears on my arm. I was certain I looked like shit, but Trevor still lifted my chin to look at me.

“Because there’s nothing to hate.” It sounded extremely cheesy and cliche, but in the moment it calmed me. Nothing worked better than hearing my boyfriend say such kind things.

“There’s a few things,” I argued softly, sniffing again. Trevor cupped my cheeks and wiped the excess tears away with his thumbs.

“Nothing worth hating. Maybe disliking, but not hating.” Trevor stood his ground with a teasing tone. “I couldn’t hate a single piece of you.”

“What about the money?” I lifted my hands to grip his wrists, prying his hands from my face. Trevor sighed.

“It was never about the money until they made it like that. Why’d you start liking me?”

I paused to think, my gaze flickering around the back yard.

“Because you were easy to talk to. And eccentric.” Trevor chuckled.

“Exactly. You never cared. We’ve never even had a discussion on how much I make. I just offer to buy, and you give me such a hassle about it before I win, and I pay.” Trevor paused and smirked. “Most of the time.” My expression softened.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” I released his hands, and Trevor brushed my hair aside with one, while the other went back to wiping away my tears. “We can just ignore all the shit for a while. Try and do one of those social media breaks or something?”

“I think I can do that.” Who was I kidding? I knew I could do that. A social media cleanse with Trevor didn’t sound like such a bad thing. Time to forget about all the stress and focus solely on one another.

“There’s only two of us in this relationship. It’s not me, you, and the world. Yeah?” I never thought of it that way. I quickly nodded.

“When did you get so wise, Zig?” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the bridge of my nose.

“Since I started dating a book worm. You learn a lot from books.”

Who would have thought you could learn from books?

“So..” I sighed out. “One big social media cleanse?”

“You betcha.”

“All apps?”

“All apps.”

“Just me and you.” That wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A newfound relief.

“Just you and me.” Trevor responded as he leaned in and kissed me. After a moment, we pulled away.

I nodded, leaned into him once again, and sighed. Just us. Only us.

“This might be a weird time to ask, but what did you get me?”

“Oh.. yeah it was nothin’ big. Just a Ring Pop in a box. I thought it would be funny.” I stared him down. I narrowed my eyes.

“Fuck you. I want the Ring Pop!”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[dulcewrites]

Fire & Desire

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (mentioned) , Aegon ii Targaryen x reader (wc: 2.2k)

Summary: Many sacrifices have been made to get Aegon on the throne. Including ones made by you

A/N: this had been sitting in my drafts for sooo long. I thought I’d revise it a bit, give me a bit of a break from fool me once. Hope y’all like it 🫶🏽🫶🏽. Sorry if there is lots of typos this was sort of posted on a whim

When Aegon becomes King, it is up to us to guild him in the right direction. To have the ear of your husband is ever important…. That may mean giving things up in return.

The words had been ringing in your head all night. Along with the image of Alicent’s uncomfortable grimace. Your instinct was the ask her what she meant by that; play silly and confused. Easily moldable and docile, the way most people like.

But you know your good mother too well for that. She knows all. You should have seen this moment coming.

The next thing you wanted to do was apologize. Tell her that you do not know how you got yourself in this predicament. But Aegon has never been one to apologize for his indiscretions, so why should you. All you can give her a curt nod.

You know she advices you without any malice. The bolstering hate you sometimes saw in Queen Alicent, the kind you see in all her children in different dosages, had cooled to a melancholy resentment over the years. She’s grown older, a bit wiser. Or maybe she is just tired.

The type of debilitating exhaustion that only women would get. Women forced to do the bidding of those around them.

It was never going to be simple. It is never easy with this family. An heir that is never around, a dead King that was never suited from the job, and a circle of scheming noblemen. Recipe for chaos and destruction.

Alicent does not have the hope to be disappointed anymore. Everything is for survival now. So much has been given up for this, and now comes your time to pay the price. Just like Alicent has.

If she knows, you can assume that means Aegon does too. He is more observant than anyone would give him for.

There are days he looks at you, and you think he can tell what you have been up to. He can look right through you and see what his brother did to you that morning, or late the night before.

Does he wonder where you run off to, the way you did with him at the beginning of your marriage. When there was a blinding and painful need to make it work. If he does know, you are surprised he has not said anything to do… or to Aemond. Aegon’s emotions flow hot and wild. Being on the opposite end of it is a sight. But then he levels off, normally numbs whatever he feels with wine or whores. He is simple in a complicated way.

If he has any inkling about what you have been doing, he has not made it known. You don’t know if that is a relief or if it hurts. None of that Targaryen madness dealt out for his wife.

Your thoughts are broken when he stalks in. Freshly washed, slight bruises on his face, and wrapped in despair.

He does now acknowledge for presence, just climbs into bed after blowing out the few candles on his side of the room. The two of you lay in silence before you feel like you will crawl out of your skin if you do not say anything.

“I will stop seeing him… in that way,” you say into the darkness, voice stronger than you thought it would be. “If that pleases you.”

You turn from your back to your side to face him; you are greeted with a eyeful of silvery hair that seems to glow in the dark. His back facing you, rigid and uncomfortable.

“Aegon, did yo-“

“I heard you the first time,” he sighs, interrupting you.

There is more silence. You continue to stare at his back, till he slowly turns to face you. Even in the dark you can see the frown on his face. The moonlight illuminating him It is like speaking with his mother all over again. Does Alicent look at Aegon and get frightened? To give birth to someone who looks so much like you but disappoints you so deeply must be haunting. A terrible mirror to have.

“I am surprised you are even admitting it,” he mutters.

You decide not to tell him that the admission comes at the behest of his mother. There is no need to add to the list of things that splitter that relationship.

“We are going to need each other, now more than never. I am willing to admit… wrongdoing and repent for it. But we both have to do that for it to work.”

Your tongue feels heavy calling whatever Aemond, and you have wrongdoing. The proper term for it does not come because you don’t know what you two are. Lovers, confidants, prisoners. It’s all the same.

The frown deep softens a bit.

“Aenar is mine.”

It comes out like statement, but you suppose it is meant to be a question. Aenar is all Aegon is best and worst ways. Sweet cherubic features and a rambunctious spirit. They even pout in the same way when they do not get what they want. They are so alike that it stupidly makes you wonder at what age he will let you down. The way his father has before him.

“He is yours,” you whisper. “A tiny terror.”

Aegon lets out a short fit of playful laughter. The affection Aegon has towards the kids is something you were constantly taken aback by. When he was around, and in his right mind, he is electric with them. It made you a bit jealous. You pushed your body to the max, and Aenar follows him like he is a god. A Targaryen God.

“But Valaena…” he trials off bitterly.

You do not answer immediately. While Aemond barely even looked at you by the time you became pregnant with Aenar, things were different by the time you had your little girl. Your relationship with Aemond sweet and syrupy. The glow of intimacy neither of you had experienced before.

“No, she is yours.”

It is easier to say that, her features still soft and indiscernible. You think she is his. You hope for his sake she is. Aegon becomes extra warm around her. Baby talk and soft looks of love.

Perhaps you hope he is for her sake as well. If Aemond thinks Valaena is his daughter, he makes no effort to show it. At first, you thought it was him being smart. Knowing that taking too much of a liking would be suspicious. Then you quickly learned he just has no interest in that part of you. Sometimes you fear he sees that extension of you, your kids, as obstacles instead.

Living and breathing embodiments of the duty you put first.

“You would really stop,” Aegon rips you from his thoughts. “Tell Aemond that it is done?”

His voice lifts intrigued. A different conversation you had with Alicent floats in your mind.

Their want for different things keeps them from expressing their love, but it is there.

“Will you stop fathering flea bottom bastards?”

Aegon scoffs at your question, but nonetheless shuffles closer to you. He smells like lemon and roses.

“This is going to be so bad,” his voice wobbles a bit.

You want to agree, because it will; it is going to be blood spilling amounts of terrible. Instead of expressing that you lean forward too.

It is how the two of you fall asleep. Foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, and slow breathes mangled together.

Is that what having your husband’s ear is like?

You know you are staring, unabashedly and grotesquely.

The only saving grace being that you are not the only one. Everyone in the dragon pit has their gaze on Aegon. Small folk watch on in confusion or admiration. Everyone on the stage hold more somber or stoic faces. Everyone accept Otto that is, who looks as pleased as you have ever seen him.

Alicent’s face is serenely flat. Helaena cannot look at her brother for too long, looking away at times. You do not dare turn to see Aemond’s reaction. Especially not after avoiding him all morning. There was a sinking feeling you got when your lady in waiting told he was outside of the door. Cowardly, you told her to tell him you were occupied. You did not know what to say to him yet.

Now all you can do if stare, and fiddle with the crisp fabric of your mute pink and gardenia dress.

It is terribly quiet in the pit. It only makes the affair even more uneasy.

There is something so devastatingly beautiful about his tear-stained face. You enjoy Aegon like this. Needy, helpless, and metaphorically flat on his back with shock and despair.

When he finally rises, Conqueror’s crown on his head, his eyes darts to everyone on stage. When his large, watery eyes finally get to you, you try to give him an encouraging smile. You are sure it reads more painful than reassuring or comforting. You bow your head expectedly.

King Aegon, Second of His Name. Gods helps you all.

The tides change once he turns to face the crowd. When the cheers start, there goes your meek Aegon. He lifts Blackfyre with a vigor you have never seen from your husband. There is a satisfaction that radiates off him. It’s stunning and terrifying to watch.

Despite everything, your eyes tear themselves away long enough to briefly glance at Aemond. If Aegon’s feeling burn fast and dissipate to light fizzles of hate, then Aemond’s resentment simmers for years, and flares when the flames are fanned.

His eyes never leave his brother’s back. Everyone enraptured by Aegon’s attitude change for different reasons.

The cheers reach their peak, and foolishly you think maybe things will be alright.

Then everything goes black.

This is going to be so bad

It is only in the comfort of his own chambers, where Aemond feels like he can finally let out the breath he has been holding in for days.

His stomach has been in knots for days, waves nausea fluttering in certain moments. It reminds him of after he first lost his eye. He would get such painful headaches that it made sick. 

Now it is not his lack of an eye ailing him, it is you.

He should have known something was wrong when you would not allow him to see you. The necklace was missing too. The sterling silver locket with a sparkling sapphire in the middle of it. You had not taken it off since he gifted it to you… till today.

Aemond knows what it means.

You could barely meet his eye, as if you think your rejection would break him. He would rather gouge his other eye out than give Aegon the satisfaction of that.

The only time you seemed aware of his presence is when you squeezed his arm when they were all face to face with Meleys. The squeeze was surprisingly strong. Though it was not a scared squeeze, it was almost reassuring. You were ready to die. You had told him one night; whispered it in the dark. You knew it would be coming, and sooner than you wanted.

“Of course, we are going to die young,” you smile with little mirth. “Think of family we are in.” 

You had only expressed sadness for your children. That you hope when that time comes someone kind will take care of them and prayed, they would remember you as a gentle mother.

What a way it would’ve been to die at the fire of dragon. You, him, his siblings, and his mother… one big happy family.

Aemond decides not to tell you that sometimes he goes in Valaena’s room and just looks. He waits for the paternal instincts to kick in. One day he expects to look and see flashes of himself. As of now all he sees is your eyes. He supposes that is the next best thing. He already must see his brother, and mini version of him that hides behind your skirts.

He has no desire to take care a child right now, and he is not even sure she is his. But to be bound to you another way would be so lovely. So many parts of him are now yours, and vice versa. What is one more?

Aemond is not mad. He finds the whole idea of a mad Targaryen a bit macabre, even for his taste.

But he sees visions of Aegon sitting the throne with you at his side as queen and thinks it would be ok to see King’s Landing up in flames. Even better if he is the one to light the fire.

He saw the way your demeanor instantly shifted. Tending to hurt small folk, telling guards where to go and what to do. There was not a lick of fear in your eyes when someone addressed you as the queen. In fact, Aemond was sure he saw a flicker of glee run through your eyes. He cannot fault the self-serving side of you. He wishes to devour it the way he wishes to devour every other part of you.

You would have never agreed to marry Aegon if this outcome was not a possibility. Giving up a chance to have your name in the history books as Queen and your son as future heir is not an opportunity you would give up. Certainly not for him. Aemond knows Rhaenyra is coming. If not his half-sister, then his uncle will be plotting and planning. So, he will do what he always does. Sit and wait. One eye firmly on his clever girl.

When the spark is finally set, he hopes you two will burn together.

[eeveleon]

something like inemuri

and so it starts hehe this event rlly is so motivating ShikatemaMonth24 - Daydream + Family Bonds

Read here on AO3

Temari turned the lights on to her room and immediately groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re still sleeping.” 

Her husband didn’t even bother opening his eyes. “Maybe I’m still tired.”

She sat down heavily next to him. “That doesn’t matter. You’re always tired. If I waited around for you to not be tired, I would literally be wasting my life here.”

“Tch.” Shikamaru scoffed. “You’re getting dramatic - spending too much time with Ino.” He blindly reached a hand out, trying to pull her closer. 

“You’re getting dramatic.” Temari retorted half-heartedly. 

Though there wasn’t really anything else for her to do until dinner time, so she let him drag her onto the bed and push her down on a pillow. Temari draped an arm around his chest, settling in. 

For a few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing resonating in the room.

Temari played with some hair that had gotten loose from his ponytail. “How was your week?” 

She was answered with a low, drawn-out groan.

“Troublesome.”

Shikamaru reached up to rub his eyes, moving his fists in slow circles. He took a deep breath as he began to recount his week. “The office is always behind on paperwork, but it went from bad to worse when some idiot submitted an unfinished draft for our trade policy with the Land of Calm Seas. Meetings delayed, discussions interrupted, all to track down and replace it with the real thing. But that was still shit, so I had to rewrite the entire damn thing, and then apologize to the Nagi officials for the inconvenience.” 

He let out a long-suffering sigh, as if even thinking about work on the weekend was exhausting - which for him, it probably was. “And this was on top of all the usual rubbish that goes on in the Tower.”

Temari hummed in response, using her fingernails to scratch lightly at his scalp, a favored act of his, from his frequent naps on her lap. Though, thinking about it, they hadn’t lounged on their back porch for a while now. She was busy with their family, home, and special jounin trainees, and his work days had long since bled into nights.

“Sounds like you need a real vacation then, huh.” Temari said as she got up, resting on her elbow. 

“Yeah, but with Naruto’s never-ending drama, I’m going to have to leave the village if I want a break.” He only half-joked.

“I’ve always thought that, once you retire from being the advisor, we’d move to Suna.”

“Retire?” Shikamaru snorted, a little sadly, folding an arm behind his head on his pillow. “Who's gonna let me retire?” He muttered bitterly.

Temari leaned closer to him. “I am.” 

Shikamaru gave her an odd look. Why would she be the one letting him retire? Temari was the last person on earth who would let him laze his life away - she wouldn’t even let him do it for a weekend. 

She covered his eyes with her hand and sighed dramatically. “Close your eyes, and imagine this.” She started, her voice lowering almost seductively. 

“We wake up in our room in Suna, around eight, eight-thirty-”

Eyes dutifully closed, Shikamaru made a noise of complaint. 

“- we have sex -”

He hummed, satisfied. 

“- and you go back to sleep.”

Cue a much more pleased sound. 

Temari tapped her fingers on his chest. “Meanwhile, I go back to work at my old job at the political diplomacy training office, yelling at and bossing around my subordinates. Once I’m done giving them a good scare, it’s twelve o’ clock and I come back to wake you up for lunch.” 

Shikamaru’s brow furrowed at the thought of getting up in Suna’s midday heat, but stayed silent. He’d gotten more than his usual amount of sleep. 

But Temari wasn’t done. She dug her nails into him lightly, scratching circles in his skin through his shirt. “First, we have more sex, then you make me lunch as I shower.” 

And Shikamaru couldn’t see anything wrong with that. Sleep and sex was a very enticing combination, and he could definitely make his wife some food after that. “Temari,” he mumbled. “That sounds really good.”

“Quiet, I’m not done.” She shushed him. “After lunch, I go back to work and you let Gaara pick your brain for solutions to the problem of the day. Don’t make a face,” she scolded. “It’s how we live for free - and you like having discussions with Gaara.”

That was true, he did like talking to his younger brother-in-law, as Gaara was harder to rile up than his sister yet more serious than his brother. They had had many thoughtful conversations over the years, both for work and just for their own entertainment. And Gaara was certainly a more reasonable Kage than Naruto. 

Also, living for free? That was a perk on its own. 

“Besides,” Temari continued. “I can’t let your intelligence rust away like that. Or do you think I’m with you for your body?”

“Definitely my body.” Shikamaru chuckled, followed by a laugh from Temari. 

“Yeah, maybe twenty years ago.” She punctuated her tease with a light slap to his stomach.

“Hey!”

She didn’t give him any more time to complain about that comment. “Shut up now, this is only half our day. Once work is over, I go and train with Kankuro for a few hours, maybe bully him and beat him up while I’m at it, the usual.” 

Shikamaru nodded, waiting for her to tell him what he would be doing during that time. He wasn’t at all surprised with her choice of activity. It seemed like the older she and Kankuro got, the more childishly competitive they got with each other. 

“Meanwhile, you go to that little park near the Council’s hall - you know, the one with the training ground? They have these tables set up for old people like you to play shogi on, so you camp out there and play a few games against your fellow elderly men as they leave their musty offices.”

“All this talk about my age.” He groaned, though there was no real aggravation in it, he’s still too pleased with the idea of spending half his day in bed followed by a late afternoon full of shogi. “Which one of us is older here?”

Temari pinches the side of his stomach, jiggling it a bit. “Remember when there was no fat here?” She retorted.

“Hey!”

“Anyways,” She went on without a care. “I come pick you up at around six. We take a nice walk through the town market - I can’t have you get too out of shape - and then go out for dinner at a different place than the day before.”

After a minute, when Temari didn’t say anything else, Shikamaru peeked an eye open. His wife was staring off into space, an unusually soft look on her face. 

“Temari,” he called quietly. “What next?”

She blinked and turned to look at him, the small smile growing into his favorite toothy grin. “Next? We take a much slower, long walk through the dunes on the east side of the village.” She laced her fingers through his. “We hold hands, talk about our day, make fun of each other, reminisce about when we were younger... then go home.”

“And then we sleep?” Shikamaru asked, closing his eyes again as he imagined this perfect scenario. 

All the day-dreaming was lulling him to sleep, and wife’s soothingly husky voice wasn’t helping for that matter. 

He felt Temari settle closer to him. “Well. First we have great sex again, and then we sleep.”

Shikamaru laughed, his eyes shooting open. Sleep, shogi, and sex. His wife really did love him.

Temari was smiling down at him, her loose hair obscuring some of his sight. “And the next day we do it all over again.” She finished, and closed the distance between them with a kiss. 

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body half on his. He sighed happily, murmuring in her ear. “It would be... amazing, to live like that. With you.” 

“It will be.” Temari corrected him, leaning above him again. “That’s going to be our future; I’ll make sure of it.” 

He loved the determination and commitment in her words. While he was more than happy with how their life was now, it felt good to know that she was planning for the rest of their lives already. 

“Of course, it’s going to be a looong while before it becomes a reality. And not just because of your duty to our dear Hokage.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Wanna know why?” 

Shikamaru blinked at her. He wasn’t sure if he liked that look in her eyes. In fact, he was hoping she would join him for the nap he was about to take - all the thinking and imagining had really tired him out. Still, he played along a little longer. “...Why?”

Temari pressed a finger to his lips. “Just wait and listen.” She rested her head next to his, and they lay in silence for 3, 2, 1...

“Mom! Ayuna is being a little brat again!”

“No I’m not! Dad!”

Temari shook her head at their children’s yells. “That’s why.” The fondness in her voice gave away her true feelings on the interruption, though. 

Shikamaru groaned, trying to sink deeper into his pillow. He should have known. His life had been going peacefully for far too long. 

His wife noticed his discomfort and just laughed. She patted his arm. “And who wanted to be a father?” She said mockingly.

“Temari, I love our kids. Very much.” He sighed loudly. “But you practically had me in a genjutsu for the past half hour, so I’m going to need a minute.” 

Temari threw her head back and laughed, obviously pleased with herself. She sat up and started to slide off the bed. 

“Take your time. I know I’m pretty powerful.” She shot over her shoulder, her hand trailing on the doorframe as she disappeared down the hall. 

Shikamaru stayed where he was sinking into the mattress, just listening to the distant sounds of his family’s chatter. He heard the back door to the porch slide open and closed as the laughter faded. 

All of a sudden, the urge to sleep for the next couple days wasn’t that strong anymore. 

Those dreams of a simple life weren’t so far away - they were just outside.

Shikamaru set his feet on the floor and got out of bed.

[bloodlustngore]

Catch me! ~ Vanessa A

Hiiii so here’s the Vanessa x reader that won the vote (I’ll still upload the Amanda Young one dw) this has been in my drafts for days bcos I haven’t proofread it & I wrote it whilst I was tired, so of it doesn’t make sense you know why. Anyway…

This one is more like Security Breach so not really movie Vanessa!

Summary: Y/n ends up staying behind at the Pizza-plex with Vanessa, the blonde tries to tell her that she has to leave because the place gets 'weird' during the night. Y/n finds it funny to Make Vanessa chase her.

(Vanessa & reader are friends) it’s like not really mentioned much.

Word count: 1300 (ish)

Vanessa had tried to tell Y/n that she must leave, the main entrance to the Pizza-plex had closed until six a.m and now there wasn't really anyway for Y/n to leave until six in the morning. The blonde had warned Y/n that strange things happen here when everyone leaves...but Y/n knows that, she knows the rumors of this place.

But that didn't stop Y/n from wanting to know Vanessa more...they'd been close for a few months now, ever since Y/n bumped into her a few times here. "What did I tell you Y/n?! Now you can't leave until six and I have to make sure you stay put!" Vanessa argued as she dragged Y/n back into her office with her. "You're a grown woman and you're acting like a child!" Vanessa then added. Y/n rolled her eyes at the blonde, she wasn't fussed about her yelling, Y/n found that hot...she just stood and admired the blonde.

"Are you even listening?!"

"Blah blah...yeah Vanessa I know this place is strange when everyone leaves. I know that the animatronics are alive. And I also know you, I'm not afraid of any of them...or Vanny." Y/n knew not to really bring up Vanny...Vanny was her alter, not to be messed with, then again Vanessa wasn't really to be messed with.

"I just...don't want anything to happen to you Y/n. I don't want to harm you." Vanessa added. That was genuine, the blonde woman really cared for Y/n and if she ever hurt her she wouldn't know how to live with herself. "You won't. If Vanny makes an appearance I know how to occupy her."

Vanessa sighed, she knew that she wasn't going to win this; Y/n was just as stubborn as anything but she secretly loved that about her. Not to mention Vanessa had no energy to argue with her right now, she had a job to do. "Just stay here."

Y/n rolled her eyes "until six in the morning? No chance." She shrugged, Vanessa was too busy wondering what Y/n was thinking until she saw the woman take off towards her office door and outside it. "You gotta catch me first!"

"Ugh! Y/n this isn't a game!" Vanessa yelled as she began to chase after Y/n. She didn't have time for this, and Y/n was a grown woman. Not that Vanessa wasn't opposed to having any fun but this was her job and she needed to make sure that everything was in check whilst making sure Y/n doesn't run into something she would regret.

Eventually Y/n had stopped in front of a lot of arcade games. This was one of Y/n' favourites when she was a kid. "Hey Nessa! Wanna try and beat me at the bowling?" Y/n chuckled. The blonde stopped in her tracks and sighed. "Y/n...can you please just go back to my office. I can't do my job with a pretty woman running around. I will get into trouble." Vanessa hoped that Y/n didn't just hear the part where she called her pretty.

But Y/n did...she blushed a little bit but didn't bring it up, pretending like she didn't hear the pretty blonde. "Oh c'mon, no one else is around. Freddy and the others are in their rooms. The other bots don't care..." Y/n paused for a moment, giving Vanessa a small smile.

"Please."

"I said no."

"You're so boring, Vanessa"

They went silent for a moment, Vanessa let out a sigh, taking that 'boring' comment a little to heart. She approached Y/n and leaned in a bit towards her, their lips ghosted over each other's. "I'm not boring, I'll prove it."

"Yes! Let's start up the game."

on Vanessa started up the mini bowling game, typing in their names for the board. The music for it started playing. "I'm so gonna beat you" Y/n chuckled.

"Oh yeah, you wanna bet Y/n?" Vanessa added, amused by Y/n' enthusiasm. "Oh I bet Nessa."

Y/n went first but it didn't go to plan, she barely knocked any of the pins down, but when Vanessa went up she got a strike first go. Turning around and smirking at Y/n. "You're smug now just wait!" Y/n chuckled.

Y/n didn't win the round...Vanessa did altogether. "I won so what did we bet?" Vanessa asked, with a chuckle. She smirked at the woman who looked so defeated. "We didn't really bet anything..." Y/n muttered, still annoyed with herself.

Vanessa was about to say something until she changed her mind, a rock song had started playing and this was one of her favorites. "Wanna dance?"

"Of course you like rock! It is a good genre..." Y/n added. Vanessa grabbed Y/n' hand and the two women danced close to each other, laughing and sometimes spinning each other around. Vanessa had completely lost track of what she was meant to be doing, too in the moment of dancing with Y/n...even if the blonde suggested dancing in the first place. The two women had to stop a moment to catch their breaths. But it was short lived, Vanessa kept glancing at Y/n' lips every few seconds.

The blonde didn't waste any time when she grabbed Y/n by the waist and pulled her closer to her once again. Y/n didn't even get time to question her, as Vanessa pulled her in for a kiss, Y/n was shocked at first but she didn't pull away, she didn't want to. Instead she kissed Vanessa back with just as much need the first time the blonde kissed her. Vanessa wrapped her arms around Y/n' waist even more, pulling her as closer as she could, Y/n' around the back of the blonde security guards neck.

The kiss had become deeper when Vanessa backed Y/n up against an arcade machine, and as soon as Y/n let out a gasp Vanessa slipped her tongue into her mouth. They had completely forgotten where they were, and whilst nobody else was around apart from a few bots and also the main animatronics...this was still Vanessa' job. The sounds of heavy breathing, Vanessa was about to take this further until the lights suddenly turned off.

Vanessa pulled away, a very serious look on her face. Which concerned Y/n as well. "Shit. Y/n I need you to go back to my office and stay there, okay?" Vanessa added. "We can talk about this...later" she pointed out.

"Did the breaker trip? In this area?" Y/n questioned.

"I'm gonna see if its only this area...you go back to the office” Vanessa added. "I'd feel safer with you then alone in your place.”

"No."

"I'm sticking with you Nessa."

Vanessa rolled her eyes she was about to groan but stopped herself, Y/n has always been stubborn since they first met. And although Vanessa loved that about her...she also didn't want anything horrible to happen to her. "You're so fucking stubborn Y/n. Fine, here' a spare flashlight. Stay near me."

"Yes ma'am" Y/n chuckled. Vanessa couldn't help herself, she grabbed Y/n and kissed her once more, leaving Y/n even more speechless than she already was after their make out session that was rudely interrupted. "Lets go and get this over with." Vanessa added. Y/n staying next to her.

[sooinbloom]

Bookstore Kisses

pairing: kyungsoo x you

genre: established relationship, married couple, fluff

word count: 1,804

description: wednesday night is date night for you and kyungsoo. tonight, after you beg him to venture into a bookstore, he decides to show you his affection in a way he never has before.

author’s note: hi! this is just a random idea I got while in a bookstore a few months ago. I found it hanging around in my drafts and decided to publish it. also, the photo above inspired the rest… the man looks so good in a cap and glasses. what can I say?! i’m trying out a new writing style, so I hope you enjoy it. sorry, this isnt edited lol (:

- Aria

“Hey, love.” Kyungsoo says as he shuffles into the room, leaving a kiss on my forehead. “How was your day?”

“It was good, a lot of meetings but I’m very happy the day is over. How was your day?” I ask, looking up at my husband.

“Same stuff, different day. I had to tear Baekhyun away from our boss again. Something about the London account again.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and loosens his tie, “at least today is my favorite day of the week.”

“Date night!” I nod excitedly.

“Yes, baby. How about we go see a movie? We can see that one you’ve been telling me about… The cheesy romcom that you won’t shut up about with your friends?”

“Hey! Hey! Do I call your movies cheesy?” I poke Kyungsoo’s chest as he chuckles to himself.

“No, because I have actual taste.”

“Wooooow this is how you want to start date night? I see how it is!” We laugh together, one thing we never agreed on is our movie tastes. Sometimes we just enjoy the banter, other times it gets serious and hours long debates ensue over which franchise was better or which classic film was better than the other. Tonight was a bantering kind of night.

 “Oh, baby, you’re lucky I’m tired tonight. Let’s go watch the movie and then grab some dinner afterward at the Thai place we like?”

“Sounds like a plan! Let me get ready.” I get up from my chair and walk over to my closet, trying to find a cute, yet practical outfit.

Wednesday nights became my favorite night of the week. We regarded Wednesday nights as almost sacred because it was the only day of the week that we weren’t exhausted from our bleak, demanding corporate jobs. The day of the week where phone gets tucked away and the only communication we have is with each other.

Fridays were too busy for Kyungsoo, given he’s now an executive as his firm. Mondays and Tuesdays were my long days because no one can get their shit together in my office at the beginning of the week. Thursdays just weren’t good for either of us because one of us ended up working overtime and weekends were reserved for decompressing, binge watching TV and much needed naps from being exhausted throughout the week.

Wednesday became special. Wednesday became ours.

After deciding on a casual outfit, I get dressed and meet my husband in the living room as he checks showtimes on his phone. I smile to myself, he’s looking rather comfy in his joggers, hoodie and sneakers, in all black of course. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and grabs his All England Techno Club cap, standing and looking in my direction.

“Beautiful.” He manages between his smile, “ready?”

“Let’s go!” I take his hand and grab my purse from the hook by the door. It’s amazing how to this day, every Wednesday feels like our first date.

Kyungsoo cried during the movie.

I didn’t say a word, but I’ll definitely keep this in my back pocket for a more convenient time. We talked about the plot over the best Thai food in town, the same place we’ve gone since we started dating. Years have past and the owners still remember our really awkward first date. Sitting in the restaurant made me smile, all of the memories that were contained in this place, it’s special.

Once we’re done eating, we start strolling downtown, hand in hand. A certain building captures my attention and I stop walking.

“Oooo! Let’s go in the bookstore!”

“Mmmm.” Kyungsoo whines. I stop and turn to face him, pouting my lip.

“Please, please, please?” I beg.

“Okay, love, let’s go.”

“Yes!” I giddily reply.

“How lucky you are that I can’t say no to you, love.” Kyungsoo mutters in my ear as we enter the store.

I walk through the fiction section and glance across the aisle to the culinary section. My heart melted seeing my adorable husband in his cap and glasses reading an Italian cookbook. He never understood why I called him cute, but this is exactly why. His small pout as he studied the contents of the book and flipped the pages excitedly. His silver ring caught the light just so, little moments like this remind me why I married him. He’s my calm, my center of gravity, my home. I turn and pick a book up from the shelf, reading the summary on the back.

“Anything interest you, babe?” Kyungsoo appears next to me. I grin happily and nod my head.

“It’s a novel I’ve been wanting for awhile. O Beautiful by Jung Yun.” Kyungsoo opens his hands and motions his fingers toward me. I slide the book in his hand and he places it at his side. Kyungsoo takes my hand and laces our fingers together, staring intently at the shelf in front of us. He turns toward me and nods, returning his gaze to the shelf. He’d been working hard and his way of spoiling me was buying me books. He never allowed me to protest or say no. He’d just grab the book, keep it at his side and not allow me to argue that he was buying it for me. His wide eyes scan the shelves, not once did he seem remotely interested in a novel.

“Anything interest you?” I ask.

“Not one thing.” We chuckle softly and Kyungsoo pulls me to the corner of the book section. His shy gaze meets mine and he covers our faces with the book, brushing his lips on mine.

“What was that for?” I blush.

“Do I need a reason to kiss you?” He smirks. This isn’t like Kyungsoo, he’s not the kind of guy that likes PDA. Just the thought of getting caught doing something more than holding hands in public deterred him. We walked the shelves full of colorful book spines, venturing to the mid section of the store where the biographies sat. A David Sedaris novel I read in university sticks out to me. Kyungsoo tilts his head with squinted eyes. “Me Talk Pretty One Day? That doesn’t make sense.”

I giggle to myself and skim through the pages, “That’s the point, the author had a speech impediment and these essays are from his experiences going to speech therapy; and what life was like when he was a child. It truly is hilarious. Sad, but hilarious.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head and shoots me a playful look as he disappears in the romance section. I put the book back and shuffle after him, in his hands the novel Twisted Games by Ana Huang. He skims the pages quickly and eyes me carefully.

Oh no.

He’s on chapter 36.

The spiciest chapter in the whole book.

His cheeks bloom a soft pink, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“I understand why you were so flushed when I saw reading this.” He mutters. “Is this what you want?”

“H-Huh?”

“This book. Is this what you want?” Kyungsoo asks lowly.

“I own this book, Soo.” I reply carefully. He walks behind me and brings his arms around me, the book in front of me. His finger points out a sentence that makes me embarrassed to know that he saw with his own eyes.

“That wasn’t what I’m asking. Do you want what’s in this book?” Oh, boy. I fumble over my words and try to answer in the most in-public appropriate way. Kyungsoo closes the book with a laugh and hugs me close as he places it back on the shelf. “You’re so cute, Jagi.”

I turn and push his shoulder. “Kyungsoo! How is embarrassing your wife in public funny! You…” He pulls me in for a kiss with his laugh still trailing on his lips. We’re tucked away in a corner, only the books on the shelves can see what we’re doing. Kyungsoo proudly steps back and leaves a kiss on my cheek.

“You’re so cruel, Mrs. Doh. Hitting your poor, hardworking, defenseless husband like that.”

I shake my head and allow Kyungsoo to lead me upstairs to the travel section. He busies himself with a book on European travel, occasionally gazing up at me. A book on Korea caught my attention and I thumb through the pages of beautiful scenery, places Kyungsoo had told me about so often. Our jobs both had us leave our beloved countries in favor of job promotions, but The US never felt like home for either of us.

“Soo?” I whisper. His curious eyes always get bigger at the sound of his name being called, standing at full attention. I show him the pages of Seoul and his whole face lights up. “I think we should save to go to Korea. You’ve been missing home, and your mom has been begging us for months now.”

“Really? You want to go to Korea?”

“Of course, baby. It’s where you’re from. It’s part of who you are. Plus, my Korean could use some work.”

“Let’s do it, we’ll go in the spring. It will be nice to show you where I’m from.” Kyungsoo closes his book and kisses my free hand. “Every day you remind me why I’m so happy to be married to you. Even after all this time.”

“I still have no idea why you wanted to marry me.” I chuckle as Kyungsoo takes the book, holds it in front of our faces and leaves a few gentle kisses on my cheeks, nose and lips.

“Because you are like your favorite books. Beautiful on the outside, intriguing and intricately gorgeous with passion between each line. You keep my attention. You soothe me. You make me smile at the end of every day. That’s a big deal.” He softly replies, leaving a needy kiss on my lips. “You make me do things I would’ve never done with anyone else.”

“Like kissing me in corners of a bookstore?” I smirk. Kyungsoo nods and presses himself against the wall, his arms pulling me against his chest.

“Yes. Like kissing you in corners of a bookstore.” Once I feel the temperature heat up between us, I snatch the novel he’s holding from his hands and grab his hand to drag him toward the checkout counter. “Babe! Slow down!”

“After you said all that? No way. Buy me this novel and let’s go home. We have… Things to do.” I stumble through my sentence and narrow my eyes at my hysterical husband. “What?!”

“Nothing. I just love you. And all of the things we need to do.” Kyungsoo emphasizes “things” and takes his wallet out of his pocket. He purchases the book and we dart out of the store, laughing together. The workers must think we’re crazy, but we don’t care.

Wednesdays are our nights.

[goodluckclove]

How Clove Gardener Writes (an Overview)

I definitely told myself when I started this blog a billion years ago, at the dawn of human civilization, that I wouldn't make any attempt to tell you how to write. You know - other than saying just do it do the thing write it close the blog open the document type type three sentences bam look you did it good job i love you now go get yourself a treat.

But I've spoken to a few writers who seem to benefit from the insight of me just explaining how I write. So I thought I'd give a little peek into my own mindset. I cannot stress enough that this is what works for me. It's a methodology that I've built up over the course of like fifteen years of trying different things, keeping what works, and throwing the rest right out the goddamned window.

If any of this seems new and appealing give it a try. If it doesn't help I'm wrong and bad as a person (no I'm kidding but seriously if it doesn't work that's fine and we're both fine). If it helps you owe me a picture of a frog drawn from memory.

Let's see how long I ramble. Follow me under the read more!

Okay, so let's get this out of the way. I've never taken a writing class. No, that's not true. I took one when I was thirteen and another one in high school and I don't remember anything either of them taught me. Oh and I took an online creative writing class in college, but I also didn't retain anything and the next year I dropped out of college. So I also don't have a degree in jack shit.

What else? I don't outline. I've written upwards of 15 novels (13-15, I honestly can't remember) and I did not outline any of them. This includes character sheets and worldbuilding lore. My first published novel Blind Trust was born from the concept of the Lover's Knot, which is just like some witchy magic lore. I thought it would be cool so I was like "who could maybe be some guys" and then I introduced some guys and then bam 180k later it was Scott and Edgar.

I do virtually no preparation to write a novel other than the vaguest premise and maybe like one cool scene. I did not have a cool scene for Blind Trust, but I do have one for Migration Patterns. What I don't have is an ending. I don't think I've ever written a novel knowing how it ends.

Literally here's what I do. This is all I do. I sit down and I write until I don't know what's going to happen next, at which point I step away and I listen to some music or I go to the museum or I take a nap until I decide how to continue. That's it.

For me it's going to the zoo every day and seeing the monkeys. And every day they're doing something different. Sometimes they're sleeping, or they're pawing at each other, or they're gathering sticks. I can call out to them and offer to show them a card trick or share my Bugles with them, and they might come up to the wall of the enclosure to see what I'm doing. Or they might not. I do not really have control of the situation, but it doesn't matter because they aren't fully aware of me.

At some point either I have to leave the zoo for some reason. Maybe I'm tired, or maybe the monkeys have been pulled in to be fed their lunch (it's bananas and peanuts). Either way I add that day's behavior to the pile and then come back tomorrow.

Once I find an ending I go back and I read through the book again and trim any fat that's in the wrong places while adding flesh to some naked bones. Then I wait a week or more (usually I can only wait a week) and go back and do it again. By that point it's ready to hopefully have someone read it, after which I make small edits and tweaks.

That's how I do it. Or at least, that's how I do it for longform prose projects that I plan to publish. I've written plenty of novels that just stayed first drafts because I didn't feel like revising them and then I moved on to the next one. I don't regret that. I don't consider it a waste of time.

I would never consider a trip to the zoo a waste of time.

Anyways, that's what works for me. I don't know if all of this will apply to other brains. I don't know if any of it will. I figure it might just be useful to get an in-depth look at what I personally vibe with.

I'm so down to talk writing at any time, by the way. I love to do it. Tell me why you aren't writing and I would be happy to listen and try to help. Or just brainstorm. Seriously, my DMs and inbox are perpetually open. Talking about writing is one of my favorite things to do.

Let's go look at some monkeys together.

[ghostoffuturespast]

WIP Whenever

*takes a deep breath* Tagged by @streetkid-named-desire @wanderingaldecaldo (you two I think at least twice lol) @seeker-of-truth

@baublekute @scarlettspectra @aggravateddurian. Thank you all very much for thinking of me! 🧡

Tag backs for everyone above 😘 and @luvwich @merge-conflict @shimmer-like-agirl @mynonsenseistingling

@fly-amanitaa @dani-the-goblin @tarmac-rat @lavnderkiwi @morganlefaye79

Cash your tag in now or later and feel free to do whatever creative projects you're working on! Doesn't even have to be fandom related.

It's been a minute. This one got long.

I largely haven't been doing any fandom stuff other than VP because my work schedule has been insane the past two months. And the only reason I have VP to post is because I'm generous about snapping pics and the vast majority of photos y'all are seeing are ones I took back in March/April/May.

Things at work are starting to be slightly less hectic though, so hopefully I can get back into the swing of things. I'm trying to be gentle with myself about the time and energy I do have but it's been frustrating wanting to do things and not having the beans to do them. Spending most of my workdays outside for extended periods of time means I'm bone tired when I get home. And then I have more work to do outside...

Gardening

My garden is gonna be very scraggly looking for the rest of the year, but if I can keep it alive, in theory, the plants should come back bigger and bolder next year. Shortgrass prairie plants spend the bulk of their first few growing seasons establishing their root systems since water is often in short supply, so the tops of the plants are very unimpressive rn. Most of them probably won't get much bigger than this or even flower this year.

I've gotten a good chunk of the plants in the ground, have irrigation lines going to all of them, and did the lil concrete paver patio. I still need to finish planting the plants that have been languishing in their pots for over a month, bury the irrigation lines, and do a bunch of other random things, but we're getting there. Not planning on covering the bare dirt with mulch because I'm doing fall and spring seeding and I want the plants to self-sow. Going for wild pocket prairie and I'm gonna let it go absolutely feral. I'd eventually like to get rid of the river rocks too but baby steps.

What's really funny is all my native plants seem to be doing reasonable well. My vegetable garden on the other hand... It's sad. I know where I fucked up though (I should not have done that soil experiment lol and attack of the cutworm catepillars), so I'll just have to cut my loses this year and reevaluate for next. The worm composter is doing good though 🪱

Drawing

Attempting to get back into drawing. Again, it's been slow. Have been doodling some mutual's CP2077 OCs when I have the time and still have a ways to get through my list. I'm surprised by how much fan art of Grandpa I've received so I figured I'd return the favor for some folks. It's always a pleasant surprise getting some lovely art in your inbox. Probably won't be coloring most of these from here on out. I have a love hate relationship with coloring. Sorry, I just find lines more interesting. All of these were done with dip pen, ink, and watercolor.

I've got another more formal piece I need to work on as well and get done by the end of the month. Keep forgetting to do the layout sketches...

Writing

The slowest of them all. Been working on the same damn short fic (No. 1 of Les Preludes) and then brainstorming for about fifty other projects that are waiting their turn in line. Plus, I'm still trying to read too. But when I can only manage a chapter of a fic about every two weeks...

Most of my writing efforts have been bopping into my drafts now and then and pecking out a sentence or two. However, I did manage to spend 45 minutes detangling a section of about 200 words 🐢:

Have you or a loved one been in an accident or injured on the job?  Are you missing your former quality of life?  Holed up in the bathroom, Robert winced at his reflection in the mirror and at the crusted blood he picked at underneath his nostrils.  Then consider Arasaka Cybernetic Implants!  Fully functional prostheses are capable of replicating the full range of human motion and more!  Available in a range of sizes and styles to suit all your lifestyle needs.  The body of the future is NOW. The corners of his mouth tugged on a bruised eye and what former experience had taught him was a broken nose. Call 1-800-IMPLANT today for a free consultation! Low-interest financing and payment plans available. A rapid fire of unintelligible fine print was drowned out by the sputter of the faucet. Robert cupped his hands and scrubbed at his face, the pain disappearing for the briefest moments with the black of shut eyes and splashes of cold water.      Arasaka Corporation.  What can we do for you? Dry flecks of red decorated the sides of the sink before rehydrating into inky swirls of blood that slipped down the sides of imitation porcelain. Yellowed, cracked, and starting to chip. The plastic hadn’t aged well.

This snippet gives me the hardest war flashbacks to those late 90s/early 00s TV phone ads. Anyone else old enough to remember these things?

[bellaxgiornata]

Do you have any tips for fast and efficient writing? I’m always impressed with how quickly and consistently you seem to churn out good quality chapters. Occasionally, I get “in the zone” and manage to really stay on top of my updates, but other times, it feels like pulling teeth. I worry that I sometimes sacrifice quality just to be able to put out an update. I want to stay consist for my readers, but that requires about 4000 to 5000 words a week, which is tough for me on top of a full time job! Any suggestions?

Oh, this is a good question! And thank you, I'm glad to hear you think my stories are consistent and of good quality! I will say that what works for me probably isn't always going to work for others, and I'm also aware that I'm in a unique position of being a stay at home mom. So when kids nap, I get free time to write. When my toddler starts preschool next week and the baby naps, if I've finished my adulting chores for the day, I get to write. Usually y'all don't have those opportunities at work--especially not daily. I'll also sometimes write in the evening before bed if I'm really feeling it (though while pregnant I had been too tired to do that for months). Honestly a lot of it depends on how much time you are able to write, and for me, I do actually spend quite a few hours a week writing and editing. Probably a lot more than people realize...

I'll put the rest of my response below the cut though because I know this is going to be long!

The first thing I did that really helped me keep churning out updates was to stop requiring myself to reach a minimum word count for them. I don't write with the pressure of needing to reach a specific amount per chapter, rather I focus on what needs to happen in an update. If the draft seemed a bit short, I'd come back later and edit in more detail or dialogue or another scene or something that fit and it usually filled things a little more without seeming unnecessary. Removing that pressure of reaching a specific word count really helps I think. And 4,000-5,000 words a week with a full time job is honestly a lot to plan out, write, and then edit consistently!

Secondly, I have multiple stories to work on. Now I definitely don't recommend this because then you'll get overwhelmed, but I do often hit a block in a fic sometimes and instead of just writing something I don't like and posting it or completely stepping away and not writing, I write something else. It keeps me in the habit of doing it so that I don't just suddenly stop. But obviously, I can't consistently update the same fics over and over, I tend to jump around. I think what might be better is maybe taking a step away and working on a one shot or something if you're struggling with a scene or a chapter. For me, sometimes what I need to write in a story is not what I'm feeling at the moment--angst, fluff, smut, whatever--and so I go write something I am feeling instead. Usually that helps unblock what's in my head, especially if I want to write smut for example, but the characters in the story I'm writing cannot realistically have me throw that in at that point.

Lastly, I think taking the pressure off of yourself to update on a schedule might be helpful. I know, it's hard to not update regularly and you might feel like you're disappointing readers, but we aren't getting paid for this. If you start pressuring yourself, you're going to burn yourself out and fanfic won't be fun anymore. It'll feel like work. And who wants to spend their free time working with no pay? So if you can get a nice long chapter up every week for a bit, but then suddenly you're struggling and it takes a few weeks for an update? That's okay. Your readers will still be here. And new ones will always appear if some have moved on.

Honestly I think as writers we put a lot of pressure on ourselves to consistently post, but it's not realistic. Like I said, I'm in a unique position of often finding moments to write because of what I do for work. That's not the norm for everyone. I struggle to update fics sometimes myself, which is why you might see some stories go months without an update, but I just update other things in the meantime. But if I only had one story, you'd definitely see me having weeks where nothing comes out because the words for that just aren't coming or they're not coming out right.

Hopefully some of this helped at all! But really, I think removing the pressure of writing is the biggest issue to tackle. Whether its your posting schedule or your word count, the pressure really gets to you. Especially if you're reaching the day you might usually post and you don't have something you feel is ready, then maybe you start to stress or panic and are rushing to get something done. That's just not fun though! Fanfic should be fun!

[anananass]

Wriothesley x Fem! Reader ~ Weakness

warning: none, maybe a little suggestive at the end of it

Tags: Wrio being a mess, so much love, feelings of being undeserving, slightly angsty?? But just really affectionate, him being showered with love, seeing a different side of the Duke, weaknesses

note: i love how he is such a mess, a bold mess of a man (i kinda wanna write a spicy continuation, dear god) also this stayed in my drafts for far too long

wc: 2,2k

“You look tired. It’s getting late, maybe you should call it a night.” you pointed out in a soft whisper that seemed to snatch his attention almost immediately.

Wriothesley lifted his eyes from the stack of papers he had been buried in for the past few hours. Just how much did he stay like that? He swore his preparations began not too long ago, but given the circumstances of your interruption and the dripping saliva running down his jaw, things seemed far clearer.

Curious but unresponsive, he checked the time only to see that it had been 7 hours since he started working. 7 hours? World record, he told himself as heavy eyes followed each scattered page until finally deciding to lift back onto yours.

“Awh, fuck.” the scoff vibrated from within his throat, coming out sounding more guttural than anything else. You watched him lean back against his chair, and couldn't help but wonder how tense his muscles must feel after sitting in that position for so long.

Truth be told, he almost fell asleep on the desk right before you came. If it weren’t for you, god knows how much time he would have wasted dozing off instead of finishing his tasks. But would he be able to finish everything without another sleep accident? For some reason, he felt more exhausted than usual, yet he couldn’t just leave everything piled up into a mess, although it wasn’t.

Despite all these cues, his train of thought persisted, as if he wasn’t allowing himself to catch a breath even for a second. That didn’t mean you had to follow in his steps. Your own need mattered more than his, thus he had to ensure you'd fulfill this necessity of getting rested.

Oh, how he wished to be able to stay by your side though. How much he wished to be able to embrace you from behind and feel your warmth surge through his nerves until his boiling blood would match yours. Nothing but a desire.

“If you need to go to bed, it’s fine. Go ahead.” Wrio replied with an equally soft voice to yours, but as soon as he finished, a wide grin rose on his face. Icy eyes watched you longingly. “Unless you can’t fall asleep without me by your side.” The yearning in his voice sent bits of shivers down your spine, but the whiff his words gave off was something different. You couldn't read his motions, but no matter what, you just wanted to push him to come with you even more.

His tentative comment amused you a little, he wasn’t wrong, but the exhaustion he held in his gaze only drove you to pursue him into resting. You approached him at a steady pace, sitting right beside him. Wriothesley eyed you intently, a little excited to see just what you were about to do but as soon as you placed your hand on his chin and held him tightly, his eyes weakened with pleasant surprise. He could barely process the emotions flowing down his throbbing heart. Just… Why does he feel this way?

“Maybe I do, but also maybe you’re in too deep and need a break.” your mouthed words seemed to have mesmerized him momentarily. Maybe it was also the fact that your loving embrace placed his heart in such a tough spot that at this point he couldn’t just say no. It was an odd feeling not even he could understand. “Do you really think you can finish this whole thing without a few hours of sleep?”

You were right, of course you were. If he were to push himself any further, he would only end up putting in more work later on, so maybe a little pause wouldn’t be that bad. But, things couldn't be left like that. He had to carry his job just for a little longer.

In response to you, you had to watch his grace slowly reach for your hand to hold it firmly. Heavy eyes looked up at you, weighing a mass of desire to give up and just follow your lead. Wriothesley slowly narrowed the distancing gap between his partly open lips and your hand. Yet, as soon as there was nothing to divide them, you felt his lips run down against your skin, dragging soft kisses behind each touch. This action made you wonder just how much his heart fluttered, but it was so obvious with the way he just wouldn't stop.

What a romantic he is, nothing but a sweet man who enjoys the sensation of being loved and cared for. One so desperate for something but the only obstacle in front of him is he himself.

“Whatever shall I do with you, Y/N?” the Duke spoke at last, sounding like he was dying to just give up on it and come follow your sweet scent. You saw his eyes thin in discontent and his throat shake upon letting out a displeased sigh, signaling that he wanted it so badly but just wouldn't crack. And you meant to say something more, to convince him, but he seemingly continued his idea. “I feel like it’d be better to finish these now, I don’t know. But I promise I’ll come lay next to you as soon as possible.”

What could you possibly do to break his composure? You still held an ace under your sleeve but… no, it was the case for it.

You allowed him to watch you let out a muffled hum, after which you spared no time to lean down and kiss him on his lips. You made sure to apply enough pressure to get out a hoarse gasp outta that pretty mouth of his, and as soon as you deemed your action to suffice, you parted away and gazed deeply into his cold eyes.

“Why can’t you just be a good boy and listen? It’ll do you and your work so much good, I promise.” your voice slipped barely above a whisper, filling the air with an odd fragrance that drew him in closer.

You… what did you just do? The question repeated over and over again inside his head.

Why did those two words, that pair of words, make his heart skip a beat? Why does he feel his chest tightening the more he thinks about the way you pronounced them? And more importantly, why is there a glimmer in his eyes?

Why does he feel this way, like his blood is boiling and his chest could be exploding at any time? The complexity of figuring out this behavior you brought up was too much to withstand for him. So much so that he just kept silent for a little while, doing nothing but watching that gentle smile of yours appear to grow larger.

‘Good boy’ he repeated it again… and again… until he felt nothing but a need for submission. His body melted against the rigid chair that once served to bring him even more discomfort, but at this point, he just didn't feel a thing, not an ounce of physical pain.

He couldn’t allow himself to keep you in the shadows for any longer. As such, in an attempt to collect all his shattered pieces, he frowned and smiled at you. You even heard him chuckle faintly, which he often did when you hit a weak spot of his.

“Alright, but I’ll have to tend to it in the morning.” He finally agreed and, with a nod, lifted his rigid body, which felt far heavier than usual. It felt terrible, far worse than he imagined, but he chose to ignore it and instead found comfort in kissing you once more, not that you made him long for more.

“No worries, I’ll make sure you wake up.” in some way, your reassurance melted his icy heart.

What did he even do to deserve someone so caring for his needs? He wasn’t special in any way, and his duties didn’t make him as incredible as everyone considered him to be. Nonetheless, he simply couldn’t grasp why he was given so much credit for fulfilling his job. He was nothing but a man who lived every day like it would be the last, yet with you… he felt like he gained so much more meaning than that. It was inexplicable. But now was not the time to surrender himself to his own battles, not when you were there by his side.

You took his hand into yours and patiently led him to his dorm, and the moment you both made your way, you took off your jacket fast enough to tend to him. Wriothesley on the other hand, took off his boots, followed by bits of his clothes after which you came along to help him. It took him off guard just how fast you reached and he meant to assure you that he got it, but the tentative smile you held on your face persuaded him to let you spoil him a little longer.

He didn’t feel deserving of something so little, but if you wanted to help him prepare himself for a comforting night, he had no chance of making you change your mind. Instead, it filled him with a feeling of odd security, something he hardly ever felt before. It was infatuating.

Feeling your hands wrap around his frame with a swift touch, one that hardly pressed against his sensitive bundles of nerves, caused him to flinch. It felt lightweight really, but in some way, the heaviness of your means caused your embrace to inflict a sense of deeper love within his walls and the more you ran your hands down his sides, the more these feelings intensified to the point where he froze in place.

Of course, you were quick to take notice of how much such a miniature gesture caused such a big fuss for him, but instead of considering dropping it down, you just felt even more courageous to do it.

Yet when you finally unbuttoned his vest, took it off, and got to his shirt, you felt the sensation of his eyes following every single motion you exerted. Instead of being overwhelmed by it, it enforced your desire to pamper him, so you nonchalantly began taking off the textile bound around his toned muscles.

Each inch of exposed skin made you wonder how much effort he put in all his life to get this chiseled, but now was not the time to froth after how good-looking he was. He did observe your vast interest in his body though, and chuckled mischievously. It was adorable to see you squirm so cutely at the sight of his beefy build, so much that it distracted him momentarily from all the tension you put into him.

“You really like what you’re seeing, ehh?” The duke chuckled in amusement mixed with slight confidence. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. You got me all for you, don’t worry. Take your time.” You could feel the boldness in his boisterous words, and had to get back at him.

“Funny how moments ago you were but a puddle of weakness.” You responded equally, if not more amused, so much that he stared at you for a few seconds to take in what you just said. To make things worse, you lifted your eyes to look intently into his as smugness slowly grew all over your face.

“Of course I was.” Wriothesley paused for a second just to come closer to you. His towering figure accompanied by the enlargement of his curling lips had you feeling a little on the edge. It made you feel as if you wanted to jump on him. “You always make me weak, it’s a common thing at this point.” Upon finishing, he leaned lower to press a kiss against your forehead, to which you replied with a surprised gasp.

The Duke chuckled once more and allowed you to finish your business, holding an innocent smile to show off. He sure was feeling almighty after everything you did to him.

In the meantime, you quickly finished taking off his shirt so all that was left for him was to take off his garments. You on the other hand? You just needed to put on your nightgown, something that’d be done in a matter of seconds. But honestly, you kind of just wanted to finish getting prepared so you could keep watching him finish.

After a little more time, you were finally able to direct your attention his way once more, but when you peeked at him… you were greeted by the view of him unbuttoning his trousers. His digits were so delicate and paid so much focus to taking the texture off, was he doing this intentionally, or was he so exhausted that his motions got slower? You couldn't figure it out, but it was enjoyable.

Upon seeing him be finished, his grace flashed you a gentle glimpse and reached for your hand. He stood behind, waiting for you to lead him toward the bed frame so you two could rest together.

His eyes frayed a tint of intrigue mixed with suggestions. Regardless, you brushed it off since you didn't want him to remain awake any longer, although this temptation surging down your spine kind of made you feel some way for sure. It frustrated you a little, but his health was more of a priority than anything else.

[hanamgi]

Autoshop

┈➤ Summary:  He was the sun in your universe, you just wished you were a fraction of that for his.

◦ Strangers/friends to….

◦ 17k+ words 

◦ Rating: 18+

◦ Pairing: mehcanicJKxFemReader

➤ Warnings: ┃ Swearing, DomJK, face sitting/riding, lustful makeout, they have sex in the shop, seggs on the car lol, teasing, dirty talk, grinding, he spits on it, sloppy eating out, ┃Mutual pining, Jungkook is an assho*le lowkey, reader is very much naive, frustration between the two, emotionally constipated Koo, implied traumatic past relationships, Jimin is the best friend JK needs, Hoseok also a good friend, idk I wrote this during a time I was frustrated with someone, and in essence this kinda bout how she did me dirty but obviously this is 100 more dramticized for the audience hehe

HELLO: I really wanted to release it's his first time MONTHS back but literally uni has hit me like a truck I can't seem to escape exam szn at all (pls help) but the hype is dying down im in my final semster of first year (more exams yay) but ill get to have a long break after. That being said I hope you enjoy this, it was in my draft for almost 11 months now, so lmk what you think don't be shy and please like, share, reblog <3

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Finally it was time.

You were beyond ecstatic to go and visit the shop again, the oil in your car finally signalling that it needed a refill, so why not bring it to your favourite mechanic? It was last summer that your car had broken down on the highway, needing a whole new engine and it ended up getting towed into a mechanic shop just off the 406. You were tired, exhausted, just trying to get back to your apartment from spending the weekend at your parent's house.

Your parents missed you but you missed the little growly cat you had at home, -Mr. Snuggles fur- (the most fluffiest, cutest, grumpy, old, ginger cat you had waiting to welcome you home) if it wasn’t for him you probably would have ended up jumping off the bridge near the highway from embarrassment. The tow trucker guy had managed to crack in a few not subtle jabs on the old thing, but seriously it isn’t your fault that you can’t afford a 2020 mercedes benz Sue you! besides you knew jack shit about cars, it wasn't your problem. But that wasn’t even the good part, the mechanic fixing it was a very attractive, very handsome man. Pretty privilege really does exist because you let the shit he said slide, to focus on his handsome figure.

Frankly, you had bigger problems to deal with, like; your job: when the sketches for the new Facebook advertisement were due, what colours would be more appealing to people, how the advertisement should be perceived as funny rather then serious, the difference between maroon and burgundy-god you really had bigger problems. You really hadn’t thought about your engine at all, you just filled your car with gas and drove it to where you needed to throughout the years. When you look back to when you bought it, you grimace,  the whole process was really sketchy. DAMMIT!! You should have taken your dad or hired someone to help you find a suitable low-maintenance car. Yet here you were again, it’s been six months since the first night you got your car towed here and kept coming back whenever there was a slight squeak to it. Some may think you're very passionate and caring for your car, maybe well off since you keep coming in to get unnecessary shit fixed. But that's not the case at all, the secret was…..you were totally, (and delusionally) utterly, in love with the mechanic you’ve seemed to befriend over the months coming here. 

Currently sitting on the stool he pulled out for you, you watch him tweak the engine's air pump while you sigh dreamily. 

He wore denim overalls and a wife-beater underneath, the top of it tied around his tiny waist. You could see the beautiful glaze of his honey muscles, –sinewy lean, and big—skin that glimmered from his sweat. Your imagination grows fast when he squats and the muscles of his thighs bulge slightly, god you were drooling. He was so handsome, tall, muscular, and- “..... Hello?” he called for your attention, the fourth time now..apparently and you blink embarrassed. Slightly jumping at his soft voice, sitting upright, you rise from the stool. “Oh- s- sorry I didn’t hear you” you blushed lightly, feeling your face heat up. 

“Seemed like you were out there” he refers to you dozing off, you chuckle lightly. 

“Something like that” you mumbled, pushing some strands of hair behind your back. He turns to you with a charming smile, a wrench in his veiny grip and you gulp. Your gaze slowly lingers from his tight grip to his face, soft lips pulled upwards into a cute pout, such sweet eyes forming crescents from the effects of his smile, your favourite type of smile. You’ve always wondered how it would feel to poke the little moles underneath his chin, or on top of his lip, maybe stick a finger into his cute dimple. Your fantasies run faster and faster and you almost miss what he says again. 

“I changed the oil and fixed the squeaking, it’s probably gonna happen again and I don't want you to keep coming down here to pay ridiculous money to get it fixed so let me show you,” he waved you over. You frowned,- did he not want to see you anymore?

“Aren’t you supposed to advertise your business and not push away the customers?” You lightheartedly joke while he snorts.

Walking over you stop right in front of him, he was a mere 5 inches taller than you and the smell of oil and cologne wafted up your nose. It was a weird combination but it smelled so good, a little rusty but it was divinely masculine, the type of scent you would want to bury your face into, and sleep and bask in all night. The kind of scent that gives enough comfort and warmth. The scent is laced with maybe Dior perfume, metal rust, and the leftover remnants of cigarettes buds– that he smokes on his breaks.

“Okay see right here this little tube wrapped in the tin?” he asked, gesturing to the engine, you nodded. “You're going to take a wrench and twist it clockwise,” he demonstrates.

“I don't own a wrench,” you deadpan and Jungkook chuckles, he’s very amused to say the least, light airy laughter leaving his lips.

“You can have this one, I have plenty” he smiles cheekily and you almost groan. It was like he was trying to get rid of you, you swear. 

“And then you're done, if it doesn't budge, grease it with the oil you bought last week,” he says and you nod, wanting to stay near his body warmth. He looks down at your pouty lips and places a hand underneath your chin.

“ ‘.....’ this is going to save you money trust me” he reassures–it wasn’t a way of shooing you out he assures. Jungkook was just concerned with your superfluous way of spending your money. He lifts your head up and your heart races a million times faster, breath hitching inside your throat. 

“I know but you would do it for free if I came in, right?” you ask and he giggles, you swore your heart stopped at the airy- supple sound, it was adorable. 

“Yeah, but what if you come in and I'm not here? Then what….. plus coming all this way is a lot,” he reasons and you sigh nodding your head. He was right, it was a lot of time, a lot of money to spend too. Your ulterior motives were not really a subtle secret anymore either, you're sure he is aware of your crush on him. You did spend so much gas money coming here and then money for getting random shit that didn't need fixing to be repaired.

“C’mon don't sulk,” he taps your nose and you finally crack a smile. You loved it when he played with you, cradled your face for any injuries he suspects whenever you come in with a busted mirror or a dented corner of the car. His light touches on your elbow guiding you, or the hovering arm over your lower back that does not creep down in a way to respect you. You want to see him more though, see him watch you, or how your gaze shows twinkles and stars when looking at him, and you know you are not subtle, he even teases you about it from time to time. You want to feel his skin under your palms, on you, under him over him–you're getting carried away.

“Okay but you should come get some lunch with me, if you aren't busy of course, maybe during your break or when your shift is done, or another day if you really busy I don't mind honestly-” you stop rambling to check his reaction, he has a stupid bunny grin on his face, eyes on yours while you heat up from embarrassment. 

You weren't asking him out, you were only asking him to lunch. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable, you knew he was not interested in you with the way he approaches you’re mild confessions, or how he ignores the obvious yearning and longing in your gaze. You know he ignored the little twinkles and fairy dust shooting out of your orbs to him because you are so sure that the energy from the power of falling for this man has created this fiery light in your eyes– you can see it yourself. You can feel the weird tension, or maybe it’s just you or he just ignores it really well. Hopefully.

“I finish my shift in an hour, I have a few cars to wrap up and send off…..” He trails off, eyes shifting down to yours. 

He watches the way your face falls, and your body sulk into a frown–he doesn’t want to disappoint you after all, you were so fragile he was afraid of hurting you. “Do you wanna help me and we can go out after?” he asks with a smirk and you feel your heart tug at some strings, the light coming back into your face. You nod eagerly and he mumbles a ‘great’ under his breath.

—

An hour later after helping Jungkook with the cars, (mainly passing him tools and getting him water, when he needed it) you both sit in a little diner near your apartment. It was an 80’s themed diner that had chequered floors and race car seats, funky colours and lighting. Jeon fit right in with his mechanic outfit, but you on the other hand had basic light-washed flare jeans and a basic tube top. You both ordered and talked randomly with one another, it wasn’t your first time going out for a friendly lunch with him, at least that’s what he thought. You both were on a friendly lunch date until one of the waitresses mistakes you both for a couple and Jeon was quick to correct her. You sigh mentally, wishing you could just tell him how you feel, yet another part of you thinks that he knows and that he’s just been ignoring your shameless flirtation. You would never be able to recover from the humiliation of him rejecting you, nor would your heart be able to take the defeat so you settle with being friends, for now—

You behave yourself and eat the food you both ordered in peace, you’d never allow yourself to cross that line; because real life isn’t like the books you read, the images and dreams you have, and people aren't what you make them out to be. You knew this. 

You always looked at the people in your life as the potential they can be, and not for who they truly are. You’ve learned the hard way when you’ve been met with disappointment and a broken heart one too many times. But you couldn't help it, you couldn't help but see people for what they could be, and that in itself shows just how vulnerable you are. You were susceptible when it came to someone else’s feelings and always tried to be as thoughtful and empathic to how someone feels and why they are the way they are, thus making excuses as to their actions.

But then again, you did set up that unrealistic expectation of him long before you had even had a conversation with him. The inner hopeless romantic in you who thinks of life as the galaxy, people as balls of sunshine, and earth as a huge ball of fluff with people who have the potential to be the sun, and the stars. 

The man right in front of you….

Man

Slopingly eating away at his burger, he was the sun in your solar system. You’d like to think he has his own planet, beautiful and soft like him. Maybe on his planet lived cats like Mr. Snuggle Fur and had tulip fields every couple miles you’d walk down it. Water as clear as glass, blueish-green colour, and maybe people as cute and kind-hearted as Jungkook, that resided on that planet. Even though the way he usually dressed was the entire opposite of how he was, you hoped that at least the way you imagined him was just as beautiful as his plant

“Are you gonna finish that?” Jeon asks, pointing to the half-eaten burger you were gonna end up taking home, but with one look at his big doe-eyes you end up pushing the plate towards him. His face instantly brightens, taking a bite out of the burger with a grin on his face.

 He was your favourite planet you’ve decided.

“Thanks,” he smiles, mouth stuffed full of food, you giggle dismissing him with a hand wave. You get the waiter to bring back the check and you see Jungkook’s eyes widen when you pass the card over.

“What are you doing?” his voice is surprised, loud. You grin at him.

“You’ll get the next one,” you simply reply, paying and packing the leftovers. Jeon scoffs, giving you a pout. “I don’t mind paying when it comes to you, as you’ve noticed” you tease and he gives you a playful glare.

A stare that tells you not to go there, and your heart squeezing tightly in your ribcage.

“Let’s get you home, it’s getting late” He walks out, and you trail behind him with a soft smile. Your hearts hurting already.

—

Now back home you decide on a quick shower and to sleep in a t-shirt 4 sizes too big, courtesy of the cheap Walmart men's section. You sigh on your bed, scrolling through the contacts on your phone until you decide to stalk Jeon on Instagram. It was something that you did often, something that was a part of your nightly routine actually- before you would go to bed you would stalk his Instagram account. It was aesthetically pleasing, pictures of him on his motorcycle, or in his garage fixing cars. It was mainly black or white themed–that bad boy dark aesthetic. Occasional pictures of his Doberman running through the grass, and him kissing his mom on the cheek in what looks like a Christmas dinner, with the table set, and a tree in the background.

You smile, the warmth of bubbles brew up in the pit of your stomach, and butterflies erupt inside you tugging on the veins that pump the blood into your heart and down your body. You had such hopeless feelings, ever since he fixed your car at the mechanic shop that night back from your parent's house- you’ve always come back to him. That night he had given you food and his large grey denim jacket to keep you warm while he fixed the boot crack of an engine that you had. You felt oddly warm and safe, even though he was a complete stranger at the time. He joked and talked to you, even drove you home that night in his car because he needed to order some parts for your engine. 

Not to mention he was also completely and utterly hot, so handsome to the point that you think you would die from staring at him for too long, and oh god- oh god his smile was the most divine, heartwarming, pussy clenching, adorable thing in the world. Little bunny teeth, plump bottom lip, faint red-tinted lips stretched into an up-pull direction. God, you were down bad.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

You were back at the auto shop, much to Jungkook’s and your bank account's dismay. Only because he didn’t like you spending money on unnecessary fixes, he knows how anxious you get when your car so much as makes a squeak— scared of getting into an accident with the old junk. Jeon was always expecting you to come by the shop at least once a week, this time complaining about how the wrench he let you borrow wasn’t turning the tinned-covered canister in the engine. Helping you replace it again, he sends you off—curtly nodding his head while you wave, your wide eyes, starry.

They were two brown orbs that he has grown accustomed to, grown used to watching his every move and sometimes let it slip down his body on a hot summer day when he has his frame out of his tank top, or his legs free from the confinements of his overalls. He likes teasing you most times when he invites you to sit on a stool and talk to him while he fixes parts–manoeuvres around the car to assemble, and dismantle. Sometimes he curls his biceps slightly in front of you, tightly wrapping his hand around a wrench that did not need that much force whatsoever. You got flustered easily and he loved to see you pat down the warmth of your hue-tinted cheeks, or hum along to the song all of a sudden—all an act to calm down your beating heart he thinks.

He knows your act of coming here to the shop is to secretly ogle at him, you shamelessly letting out the crush you have on him in other forms—which is pretty obvious anyways—but Jungkook doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t want to embarrass you. Plus he loves your company, and your rambling about your co-workers, the food you bring in, and Mr snuggle Paws or whatever the name of your cat was—he appreciated it all. He valued the friendship you both have seemed to build throughout the months. You were a very wise, smart, beautiful woman—and he’d be damned to think he’s never seen you in that light. You were sexy, yes. But he’s never let his imagination broaden outside the area of this auto shop, the barricades on his heart work extra hard to block out the cute sounds of your giggles, or the way your hand comes up to part your soft curls behind your ear— and the way you ramble about random things in hopes to entertain Jungkook while he works— he found all of these things about you endearing and adorable. This is part of the reason why Jungkook had not tried to initiate a move, a hangout, or anything more than the friendly and respectful hug he parts you with whenever you leave the shop, or whatever restaurant you both choose to eat at once in a while. 

You were dangerous for his heart, he can feel the barbed wires he put on them years ago-loosen from time to time and it only happens in your presence, and the only time he felt the flutters in his stomach and the pulse in his heart quicken was with his ex. The one who has humiliated him broke him and made him barb up his heart to be a clueless fucker who has no hope, no expectation, no interest in love anymore. He didn’t believe that loving someone was enough for anyone, just love is never enough. No one in his eyes had the potential to be worthy of him, but there’s you. You who he thinks may have the potential, maybe. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t want to discover it. He doesn’t want to expect anything from you because he thinks you’ll disappoint him, he thinks that there’s no point if it’s all going to end in the grand scheme of all things. 

Jungkook only fucks, that’s what allows him to satisfy himself and protect his heart, it works for him. Clearly, you are not looking for that, you’re not looking for a quick fuck and he’d rather keep you as a friend than lose you, it is comfortable the way things are now. He knew eventually that you would crack and tell him your feelings, but he only hoped it wasn’t going to be anytime soon. Plus, you deserve better, you deserve better than Jungkook who is 1) a pessimist; he sees the negatives of life, and his thinking is cynical, very opposite from yours. You’re a better person than Jungkook, you see the good in people and think that anyone “bad” can change, and can be “fixed”. But Jungkook didn't want to change, nor did he want to be fixed. Jungkook wanted to be Jungkook…unguarded and free. He didn’t like all that vulnerability shit, he didn't want any of that soft stuff, and he did not want that level of emotional intimacy with anyone ever again. No, he didn’t want that, no one nor you or anyone else can change his mind. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Oh,” you're dejected, nodding your head at Jimin, Jungkook’s coworker. He told you that Jungkook wasn’t working for the rest of the week, and you now regret not texting him first rather than showing up unannounced and as much as you claim that any amount of money that you spend on Jungkook is worth coming to see him for, you should’ve thought rationally—the gas money it took you to get here from the office was at least worth a brand new pair of work pants from Zara. Smiling softly at Jimin, you bid him a farewell, walking out feeling your embarrassment from your heated skin, almost tripping on your feet on the way out with your head hung low from disappointment. 

“…” You hear your name, the gentle voice had a slight rasp to it this time and slowly your heartbeat quickens as your eyes look up from his combat boots to his face. He was fitted in black cargo pants and a black tee, the black ink also standing out with a new print behind his elbow. You don’t comment on it yet though, your eyes swell up from smiling real hard and at him. The bag you had in your hand came into view and you saw his eyes flick down to the greasy takeout boxes from his favourite restaurant. 

“Jeon, Hi!” you chirp a little loudly, after a beat of silence he breaks into a smile. But his eyes widened again, a little look of guilt, or was it confusion you didn’t know but you broke the awkward silence by holding up the bag again. 

“I thought you were working today and brought some food, I-i’m sorry I probably should have texted you first, but I didn’t want to-” you stop, huffing at your own ramble and Jungkook’s eyes seem to puff up, his grin widening from ear to ear and that seems to calm you down, it brought some sort of comfort to your erratic heartbeat. Oh god, it was beating so hard you just wished he didn’t see it beating out from your chest. Because for one he looks extremely beautiful outside of his work outfit, and two his smile just seems to always brighten up your days. After all, he was a whole beautiful galaxy in your eyes.

“Ahh I wish you texted me I-” he stuttered, walking past you to reach the little cupboards in front of the office you just bided Jimin goodbye from. His voice was a little rushed as he grabbed his forgotten wallet from his desk and stood back in front of you. 

“I- I’m going out right now and” 

“Jungkookie” a voice interrupts him and you can see the look of horror in his eyes flashing with shame and terror. You give him a confused look, you didn’t know why you read that frenzy expression on his face, and why it was there.  Until a girl appears through the doors of the garage and you see him shut his eyes when she grabs onto his bicep, looking over at you. 

“Did you find your wallet?” she asks and you blink up, your heart clenching at the tight grip she has on his arm. You don’t let it show though, you knew that deep down Jungkook had girls lining up for him, he was just that kind of guy. You twist the bag back behind your frame and Jungkook’s eyes flick from your hands to your eyes, he’s watching you carefully as if he was concerned about you.

“Yeah, yeah I did,” he says, clearing his throat awkwardly. The woman was beautiful, she had long blonde hair, clad in a cute red sundress that showed off her well-built long legs, and her bright smile that could probably light up anyone's world, maybe it already lit up Jungkook’s world, just like his own smile did to yours.

“Oh hi, Celeste” she introduces herself, and outstretches her hand, you shake it, giving her a wide smile. You didn’t want Jungkook to know that slowly your heart was tugging apart inside, and that bile was probably rising up and had the sudden urge to vomit out your stomach's contents of breakfast and coffee. 

“…” you introduce yourself and Jungkook gives you a tight lip smile his nystagmic eyes missed nothing, but you also avoid them, avoid his being while Celeste beams about the garage and the random Corvette that’s being fixed up. Easing into some easy-going conversations, and more small talk about the party they're going to attend after, meanwhile, your heart clenched and twisted with a wicked feeling of jealousy, eyes zeroing in on her hand on Jungkook’s bicep. It looked natural like it was the millionth time she was doing this and you didn’t how much longer you could take it, seeing him with someone else. 

“I- ’m going to go now, I hope you guys have a good time at the party,” you uttered after you all chatted for a while, and Jungkook’s eyes softened at the tight expression on your face–a lacklustre smile on your lips, he can see right through you, he knows you're disappointed, upset- but not angry. 

“Wait, you should totally come, it’ll be a good time,” she suggests and you flinch slightly, looking over at Jungkook who gives you a tight smile, almost as if he was uncomfortable with the idea because his lips primed, and his brows knitted into a frown. You chuckle uneasily, waving your hand in a dismissive way before turning your head away from them a moment.

“Oh c’mon, it’ll be fun and if you know Jungkookie here im sure you’ll get along with the others at the party” You almost vomit from the nickname, the very cute and intimate nickname that falls from her mouth naturally, her hand rubbing his bicep in a soothing manner. Your face heats up from frustration and embarrassment because Jungkook clearly did not want you to accept yet you open your mouth to accept, giving Jungkook one last glance that has you nervously nipping at the bottom of your lip. 

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

You're on the sidewalk, nervous and jittery from entering the three-story home overflowing with people inside and out, bobbleheads scattered all over the top terrace to the front yard. Red cups are held in everybody’s hand, either filled with alcohol or any pop of their choice, but the way drunken bodies move and shout has you thinking of the latter option. Your bottom lip is tucked underneath your teeth, bare legs stuck to the ground as you contemplate the house, you didn't know what you were doing here, to be honest. 

Jungkook definitely did not want you there, you were absolutely terrified of entering this stranger's party, and Celeste was probably just trying to be nice by inviting you yet you had bitter feelings towards her. What were you trying to prove? Show Jungkook that you were better than her, dressed into a tight crochet dress you’ve decided to borrow from your friend, about to step into a sea of people you didn't know and the only person that did– clearly showed his disinterest in wanting you there. 

The look on his face showed his frustration and apprehension in not wanting you at the party as if he had something to hide, but that gave you all the push to come, maybe prove to him that you are as cool and as beautiful as Celeste. You wanted to mingle with his friends and converse with others to show Jungkook that you could fall in with his crowd.

Underneath all the nervousness and stress you are feeling, you feel a little brave and confident in the quite revealing, short dress, hair locks cascading down your back with glittery makeup on to emphasize your features. You hoped that if you were to approach Jungkook tonight that he would drop his mouth open, maybe discreetly look you up while you talk and enjoy yourself. You just want to show Jungkook how cool you could be, you could show him what he could have instead and in a perfect world, he would finally realize his feelings for you and come running to hug your waist and bury his boyish face into your neck, telling you how much he loves you.

 But this isn’t a perfect world, clearly when the first thing you see is a girl sitting on Jungkook’s lap on the couch when you walk in, and that girl was not Celeste but rather a brunette wearing a backless top. 

Your blink back pathetic tears, as you shift from one foot to the other. You were at a safe enough distance for them not to notice you but you also felt like throwing up, felt your heart shatter even harder than before because of one thing you never thought Of course Jungkook would turn out to be a fuck boy. A boy who flies through girls easily, bedding and dipping fast. What did you expect?

You figured that out by deciding to stay unnoticed at the party for a couple of hours, waiting for a time that he wasn’t occupied with shoving his tongue down someone’s throat. You counted at least 3, 4, maybe 5 women who had successfully approached him to share spit, your breaking point was when he decided to take the last girl upstairs, where the rooms were and you swore you could have met his eyes for a second as well, but you were quick to rush out that door and back into your car, steadying your breathing.

Pathetic of you to think that Jungkook was the soft and sweet boy you thought, you saw him smirk your way when he had the last girl on his lap, probably sensing your gaze on him finally he decided to hook her legs up to his waist and carry her up the stairs, putting a show on for you, it's as if he was mocking you. You could feel your heart detach itself from your chest, tears streaming down the face that you spent beating up the last two hours. 

A tiny scoff leaves your lips, mind replaying that stupid devilish smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

He knew what he was doing, clearly.

How naive and in your head, you were to think that maybe just maybe Jungkook would have feelings for you and surely you thought that his actions and kind-heartedness towards you were special but seeing the way he held and softly caressed other girls, playing with their hair–showed that you would never be one of those girls. You want to be more than that though. 

He was a good man, he would never intentionally hurt you and you blame yourself for your tears–if only you told him if only you sat him down and talked to him about your undying love. But then again, it’s been months of dropping hints and months of flirting with him surely he would know you had feelings for him? Would he really deliberately hurt you like this?

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Jungkook couldn’t believe that when he woke up the next morning he was still at the party, sweat running down his back and neck making his skin sticky and gross. As he looked around he was all alone in the bed groaning when he saw the pair of panties on the nightstand with a little handwritten note beside him (Call me sometime ;)!) a phone number attached. Grudgingly he got up and threw out the note, grumbling in disgust, he managed to make it out the front door fully dressed, with his car perfectly intact and parked in the driveway. Looking back at the house small memories started coming back to him and your face flashed right through his mind, in that pretty little skimpy dress. Short that it almost flashed your ass with every step you took, catching the attention of all the boys at the party. 

He scoffed at the memory, especially when he remembered the way your face broke out into horror every time you saw him with a different girl each time that night. Honestly, he was hoping you hadn’t come to the party just so you didn’t see that side of him. That side of him that he hasn’t matured and grown out of.  You were probably hurt you weren't one of them, probably jealous of the girls he had kissed and fucked but he’s glad you weren’t one of them.

He would never disrespect you like that, if he was going to do things with you he would do it right. He would do it right as in take you out on several dates, confessing his love, and hopefully make you his girlfriend by the end of it. That’s the right way, the morally good and safe way to do things. He thinks that’s what you would have wanted, that's what you would have expected from him. But Jungkook doesn’t want that, he doesn’t like pre-planned things, he doesn’t like expectations, nor does he like the idea of being tied down. 

But above all Jungkook doesn’t want to hurt you, hurt the fragile soul of yours that preplans and expects and sees the world in all shades of rainbows and unicorns. Call him a little cynical, a pessimist, (he is) but Jungkook likes the unexpected spontaneous nature of life that randomly brang what belonged to him when he needed it. He liked for things to fall in place and although to a certain extent, he should put in some work for what he wanted he knew that he didn’t want anything romantic to do with anyone right now. Maybe he should let you know then to keep letting your hopes up, but something so gut-wrenching and heart-shattering about seeing you hurt that Jungkook didn’t like. He lived to see the colour in your face, your enthusiasm and the way you’d go hours and hours talking about everything and anything.

And since Jungkook is so convinced that you both would be better off as friends than romantic lovers, why does he have this terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach when he doesn’t see you for the next month? He doesn’t get the bubbly feeling and breath knocked out of him when he sees you walk in with one of your sundresses, only disappointment and beer bellies walking into his shop. He sighs, frustration clear on his face while he tightens the bolts on the bottom of the engine.

Jimin takes cautious notice of his mood throughout the weeks, he watched his eyes always flicker to the door whenever the bell chimes and the disappointment that settled into his eyes after, tells Jimin that maybe he’s looking out for a special chatty bird.

“What’s with you?” Jimin asks, nudging him on the shoulder.

“What’s with what?” faux disinterest laced in his tone.

“You have this sadness oozing out of you and I think it may have something to do with our favourite little customer huh?” he says with a grin and Jungkook chuckles.

“Is it that obvious?” he scoffs and Jimin shrugs.

“Yeah I mean, she hasn’t come in a while and your eyes practically jump to the door every time it chimes,” he treads, and Jungkook groans.

“She won’t answer my texts either, nothing” Jungkook sighs, wiping his oiled hands on his overalls.

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing”

“What’d you do Jungkook.”

“Seriously I don’t know, I’m confused myself,” Jungkook sighs.

“Managed to already hurt her feelings?” Jimin treads around the topic, not wanting to anger Jungkook but also get it out of him. 

He knows your little innocent crush on his friend here, he knows you come in to fix every little thing (although unnecessary really) just to see Jungkook. He knows how Jungkook rolls, he wouldn’t be into the stuff where you date and do all the sappy shit— he didn’t like expected romance, he was more into hookups and spontaneous fucks something you obviously weren’t made for.

“What you think I did something?” He scoffs and Jimin sighs. “She’s just sensitive, she probably saw me with someone at the party, and I didn’t want her to come in the first place but she did and she ended up seeing shit she didn’t like” Jungkook blurts and Jimin hums.

The truth summarised. 

“So really I did nothing, she showed up and she didn’t like what she saw” he shrugs, and Jimin scoffs.

“Why didn’t you want her there?” Jimin asks and Jungkook really wishes he didn’t ask that because he knew the answer. He knew he didn’t want you there because he had a fear of disappointing you and showing you the side of him that he secretly hates, the side where he made out with multiple women and fucked carelessly and to make matters worse he made sure it was in front of you.

Why did he care what you think of him? He doesn’t know and quite frankly he didn’t want to get into that variegated emotions and thoughts because now was not the time. He really thought that the best way of getting you away from him was to hurt you and he knows he did because he saw all the tears slip out of your eyes when you hastily wiped them away at the sight of Jungkook taking another woman upstairs to fuck, he knew by the way you hurriedly scurried out the door in the skimpy little adorable dress that you probably wore just for him. 

Jungkook knew what you felt in your heart, you were very easy to read and he wasn’t dumb. You're pretty predictable and now he regrets not walking up to you normally instead of forcing his tongue down a random woman's throat to purposely hurt you.

Why? He couldn't tell you.

You deserved more, he wanted you to know you deserved more and maybe you finally realized that Jungkook was horrible and that it wasn't worthwhile having a crush on him but why does the lack of you in his life sting his heart. Why does it leave a bitter taste on the back of his tongue, and he can’t shake you out of his mind? 

Jesus

He knew he grew accustomed to your company, he knew that much was true yet when you didn’t show up to the shop as your bubbly old self and did not answer his texts…. has him feeling like shit.

“I didn’t want her there because that wasn’t her type of thing” he answers after a long pause and Jimin gets busy with his task in hand, screwing up the tire in place.

“Uh-huh,” he said off-puttingly and Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Oh nothing…it’s just that—-You’re a shitty fucking person Jungkook” Jimin chuckles.

“How?” he asks

“Because you’re not honest with yourself, so you end up hurting people for no reason” he shrugs and his shoulder slump.

“You know she likes you, she’s harboured harmless feelings for you over a course of months and she cares for you, yet you end up treating her like shit when she dresses up for you and shows up to a party only to see you deliberately shove your tongue down throats in front of her because you wanted her to ‘back off,” Jimin huffs, air quoting “back-off” with his fingers and Jungkook suddenly feels exposed. A chilling and unsettling feeling rumbled from his chest.

“You don’t even want her to back off, I know you like her back just as much but you just self-sabotage because of your past but guess what Jungkook,” Jimin pauses, hands up to show his frustration.

“ ‘...’ isn’t Sora. You don’t always have to have this facade of smugness and nonchalance. It isn't attractive anymore,” Jimin spat when he finished his job, rubbing his hands with the towel as he walked back into the break room, leaving Jungkook to simmer inside his thoughts.

Damn

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

There is a foundation; eating, sleeping, and the occasional exercise that science proves helps our quality of life. Physically, these are all fundamental elements that help us live a long and fulfilling life (mostly), yet as you grow older and older you no longer depend on your parents to tie your shoes for you and start to form your own perspective on life, and what is most important to you. You realise there is more to life than just being, you no longer want to live for the purpose of living so you go out and find it. 

You go out and seek the purpose for what you’ve been placed in this cruel world for, and somewhere along the journey, you start longing and yearning for something that is out of your reach. You create an unrealistic romanticized version of life in your subconscious mind. Outlets such as books, poetry, and movies may portray these very impractical ways of life in such beautiful and, again, (unrealistic) perspectives, which in the end can conflict with your conscious mind when you come face to face with these scenarios in reality and you’re left unsatisfied.

You expect and set life on this high pedestal to only then realize…. that life is much more complicated and disappointing. Depressing even to comprehend just how hard it is to live, just how hard it is to show vulnerability, to talk about feelings–to show them, to love, to accept, to forgive, to grieve.

It’s hard, truly.

That’s what Jungkook thinks you do, he thinks you’re so bubbly and energetic– so hopeful because you think of life as this big cloud of unicorn dust and stars that shine brighter than the sun.

He sees the hopefulness in the roundness of your eyes, and the adoration that they carry; so much adoration. Especially for him, and it scares the absolute shit out of him. He wishes he didn’t see life from a more cynical view, call him pessimistic but Jungkook would rather already have disappointment set into him like a wired robot and expect the worst of every situation than have that hopeful naive stare you have in your shimmery eyes, expecting everything to go the way you make things out to be only to be left pained in the end.

Yeah…hurt and pained.

Jungkook was always hyper-fixated on being disappointed in the grand scheme of all things, and he only believed that he could feel this way. He could only be the one disappointed but when he sees your lone self sitting in the diner you brought him over for lunch a couple of months ago, chewing on a lame piece of fry, eyes tired and looking down into your milkshake he stiffens.

Visibly, Jimin notices and follows his line of vision, eyes landing on your form that carelessly runs through fries and the book you have on your lap. You seem tranquil, a vibe that neither Jimin nor Jungkook can wrap their heads around but when your head lifts up and your eyes scan the room you finally find his eyes. And Jungkook winces at the loss of joy and passion in them for him. It’s like the fire that kept burning in them full of love and hope was lit out. He half expects you to look back down at your book and avoid him, forgetting that you ever saw him but when you shyly wave and shoot him a smile Jungkook doesn’t think but walks towards your booth–which he now realises is the very same one you both sat in the last time.

“Hey,” you greet, voice hoarse and still soft. Jungkook was lost just staring at you, his eyes dancing across your dainty figure and locking in on the new tattoo on your forearm. It wasn’t big but it was big enough to notice right away, a cute star with a soft circle ringing around it.

“Hey babe, how’s it going?” Jimin asks concern laced in his voice as your eyes softly crinkle from smiling too hard at the pet name. Jungkook stares, heart beating faster as he hears the tired strain in your voice, you seem sunken and look smaller than before. Your eyes don't shine as bright and the glee in your voice was gone.

“Oh I got my car broken into, and my phone was stolen so sorry I didn’t see any of your messages” You blush lightly, your voice growing softer at the end. That explains why you haven’t answered any of his texts and why you didn’t return any of his calls. But he was still trying to figure out what had happened to your energy.

“You taking care of yourself?” Jungkook finally speaks up and your eyes look back and forth,` unable to hold the contact as you clear your voice and look away.

“Yeah, im doing well” You muster a smile and gesture for both of them to join you in the booth.

….

You exchanged your new number with Jimin and Jungkook, walking out of the booth after catching up. You decided to sell your car and invest in another you told them.

The cold breeze of the air kicks in as the moon farewells the sun— and darkness completely takes over the swirl of orange and pink that has painted the sky. Jimin wishes you both a good night and Jungkook lingers a bit longer by your car, looking at you.

“Let me drive you back home” he suggests with a small smile, “You’ve had some drinks” he explains and you chuckle lightly.

“Uhh it’s pretty far Jungkook, how would you get back?” you ask and Jungkook takes the keys from your hand.

“I'll bus back” He smiles and you nod, heart fluttering a million times harder inside the tight confinement of your chest.

Missing Jungkook was an understatement, you’ve done nothing but flaunter your interest in him and shower him with all your attention and love in the past. All you wanted was for him to either reject you or accept you. He was confusing, and although deep down your love for him rapidly grew like wildfire in your heart, the same love that he had shrugged off. The same love that he takes advantage of and deliberately strung along just for his own vile entertainment and pleasure, just for his ego to be nourished from time to time again is the same love…… that realized that you deserved better.

In the grand scheme of all things you had realized that Jungkook could never give you want and need, he won't ease your heart by reassuring you nor would he give you the love you deserve, the stability you deserve. 

And instead of wasting your time chasing after him, who clearly has different motives and different goals for his future, you decided to finally set him free, take a step back, and explore other options in your life.

The least you could do to guard your heart against his cruel ways.

When you’re cute coworker started taking interest in you, you decided to go on a few dates with him over the past month. You weren’t official yet but he made you happy, he truly did. He was the softest most kind-hearted boy, that’s what you used to think Jungkook was or wished he was like.

You idealized Jungkook, you’ve built such unrealistic standards of him and put him on the highest pedestal that you could possibly find. The tattoos, his body, and luscious raven hair were all a blinding vision, all romanticization.

And you feel guilty for doing that, which is why you had stopped coming to see him for a while. You had to clear your mind and stop being a delusional little 13-year-old. You’re a grown 25-year-old woman who has a career, and a promising future. You wanted to get married have children and do the unimaginable most basic cliche things in between. You realized that waiting around for Jungkook would set you back. 

This doesn’t mean you regret the past year of pinning and being whipped after him, you genuinely had a fun time but the sooner you realized the harsh reality, the softer the blow would be, and you wouldn't have to go through a traumatic heartbreak. Or you hoped.

The ride to your house is ghost quiet, only the bustling horns of cars and skyline and street lights illuminate the car, casting a beautiful shimmer onto his face. The soft tune of Sabrina Claudio playing on the radio, humming along quietly as you look out the window.

“Time will be frozen….for us” you sing lowly, and Jungkook takes a second to look at your side profile, a smile growing on his lips.

“You have a nice voice,” he compliments and you giggle shyly, staying quiet and humming along some more. 

You soon arrive at your condo, he parked your car in the garage. You invite him over for some food and made some pasta for the both of you silently eating on your kitchen island, conversation flowing slightly awkwardly with little pauses in between to rack your brain for topics. You could tell he was treading carefully, tentatively and hyperaware. You can see it in the way he speaks between pauses, and actions so timid it’s so unlike him.

“This dress is really pretty,” his hands tug lightly at the laces on the end, skimming your upper thigh lightly. You smile, patting the short piece of fabric down your thighs and Jungkook licks his lips. Eyes land on the white lace garter around your left thigh, catching a sight of it by accident when you hike it up your thigh.

He raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat as you lightly smirk. Suddenly the tensions in the air change, and you lean in closer.

“Thanks, I got it as a gift last week,” you smile, absentmindedly sighing at the way Yoongi bought you the dress to wear for their date, he was supposed to come over later tonight, so you desperately wished to get rid of Jungkook as soon as possible. 

“Are you going to bus back soon, it’s getting late,” you move your body away from his, taking the opportunity to clean the dishes while putting space between the two of you. He lingered confused, staring at you intently as if in deep thought, you can see from your peripheral vision. All of a sudden the air around the both of you got thick, and your heartbeat picked up as soon as he came around beside you, helping you dry the dishes.

“Why am I not welcome anymore?” He jokes, setting the plates down on the drying rack. He slowly trails behind you, trapping both of his arms on either side of your body, leaning his head in slowly and you anticipate the feeling of his body flushed against you but it never comes. Jungkook paused, too busy staring at the bruising mark on your neck, his heart twisting uncomfortably.

Were you seeing someone? Is that why you stopped coming to see him for the past couple of months? He feels anger rising but subdued when you turn around, face inches away from him.

“What are you doing?” You ask and Jungkook scoffs, a bitter chuckle escaping his mouth as he takes a step back.

“If you want me to leave because your little boyfriend’s coming soon, you could’ve just said so” he tuts, and your eyes widen.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you say defensively, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Jungkook crosses his arms, mockingly mirroring your pouty lips, “You don’t have to be so coy, just tell me to leave,” he says, and your eyes widen, your patience running thin as your blood boils in anger.

Who did he think he is?

Jungkook wanted you to tell him to leave, he wanted to prove a point. Show yourself that you still like him still. But what surprised him was the little smirk on your face, your arms suddenly crossing over to mirror his own and the way you gesture to the door with a tilt of your head.

This was it? Had you truly moved on…? Isn’t this what Jungkook wanted all along though? Why was his heart shattering inside his chest and the air suddenly felt warmer and thin around him? 

Why was the new glint of realization and unhinged gleam in your eyes bothering the fuck out of him. God damn it your eyes shined so much brighter and glowed a thousand times shinier than the moon could have whenever you saw him.

That used to always put his heart at ease, feeling wanted, he loved being desired. Especially when you would stare at him for hours and trace the tattoos along his arms, buy him food and talk his ear off. 

Why was that all gone from the look in your eyes, he felt the coldness in your stare probably caught on to the arrogance his words held, and the smugness he carried himself with.

So he’s surprised when he hears what he hears next.

“Please leave Jungkook, I have someone coming over,” you smile.

You didn’t let him get what he came for, you didn’t let him shatter your self-confidence, nor did you let him fill you with self-doubt. You're a changed woman….

——

Min Yoongi was a special man, a special man that held a special part in your heart. You’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months, and ever since he asked you to be his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago you’ve been head over heels. 

Driving him crazy by drowning him in kisses, and hugs, making him food at unprecedented times of the day and taking it over to him at the university he teaches at.

He was a physics professor, at the age of 30 living in a downtown complex just half an hour away from you(depending on traffic) and although the way you met was kind of unconventional you both had hit it off quite well.

He was the kindest, sweetest man ever, always so thoughtful of you, always treating you with the utmost respect and kindness you deserve. Ever since the last night you’ve seen Jungkook a month ago, the memory of him started fading away slowly, your heart healing and filling your mind with new and fonder memories. 

Like right now, sitting on Yoongi’s lap while he inspects your broken laptop, trying to fix the crashed document for you.

Smiling at him you hear him groan and you coo, kissing his cheek multiple times while he shuts down your computer again to refresh it.

“Baby, I think you need a new computer,” he sighs, taking off his glasses and finally giving you the attention you’ve asked for all night.

You kiss his lips, holding the sides of his face gently while he giggles. “It’s okay, as long as I have you,” you smile stupidly and Yoongi feels his chest tightening with love, butterflies pooling at the bottom of his stomach.

“Plus you can just use my computer for the time being,” he suggests and you nod, burying your head in the solace that was his neck, relaxing the rest of the afternoon in his embrace.

——

“Jimin, your customer is here to pick up his Audi,” Jungkook calls in from the reception area, sharing a brief smile with the young man dressed in a sharply tailored suit, raven hair and mullet cut. He was shorter than him and scrawnier but nonetheless, you could see his biceps buff and curl into the stretched material of his dress shirt. 

Jimin wipes the grease off his hands and onto his jumper, breaking out into a big grin as he shakes his hand. “Ahh Yoongi, good to see you,” he beams and Yoongi bows politely.

“Enough is my car fixed? No more leakage diarrhea?” He jokes with a quizzed eyebrow, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Nah no more liquid shit, let me show you,” he takes him to his car and Jungkook shakes his head with a smile on his lips. He had helped fix the diarrhea problem in the Audi, almost in the shop for a month as they had to wait for a piece they ordered to come. Apparently, his girlfriend has been giving him rides to work and back for the past couple of weeks.

Jungkook washed his hands, running a hand through his now short hair, and eyes trained on his phone, checking out the new sneaker shop downtown to try and visit and get Jimin a gift for his upcoming birthday.

He’s throwing a pool party at his parent's mansion, them being gone for the next couple of weeks. He booked a dj, and bartender and Invited a shit ton of people because according to his own words:

“You only turn 25 once, that’s halfway to the 50 and wrinkly old man that I’ll be” He justified his expensive irrational blow of money.

“Yoongi!” Jungkook hears, he knows this voice way too well. Familiar with the soft rasp to it, and the kindness of every syllable, he regrets it but he looks up. Finding you clad in a beautiful yellow sundress, the one that you wore that one time you came to visit and bring  him lunch, ready to spill about the contents of your day to him.

Your eyes hold a little surprise to them when you spot him and Jungkook wished the whole world swallowed him whole while he stared at you his heart started wildly beating, a specific clench on the left side as he regards your beautiful self. 

You have a life back in your eyes, a certain light and beam in the shines of your irises and his mind switches into a hopeful thought before he sees you look behind him and wave at the young gentlemen through the glass, talking to Jimin.

You look back at him, a certain softness to your eyes as you regard him and walk up closer. “It’s been so long Jeon, Hi,” you say, and Jungkook gulps when he waits for a beat longer to respond; stunned that you are really here, standing here talking to him, especially after the last time you both spoke.

“I’m good,” he responds, eyes glancing between your eyes and lips, then at the tattoo on your forearm. The little star with the winged circle, he assesses it, never had a chance to ask you about it. You slipped through his fingers faster than he would’ve liked. 

You nod, a frown replacing your face when he looks back at his phone, trying to ignore your presence. But really his heart was beating way too fast for his liking, heart clenching in pain and longing….regret.

You disappointedly turn away, a smile right back on your face when Yoongi comes back out with his car keys, he pulls you into his embrace, lingering a kiss on the top of your head.

Jungkook notices this and blinks owlishly.

What did he fucking miss?

“‘….’” Jimin says your name, a surprised gasp leaving his lips when he sees the interaction and in a split second he sends a knowing look to Jungkook, a smirk attached to his gaze.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and continues to watch you catch up with Jimin, blabbering about life and decisions and thinking of moving into the city. He didn’t really hear much because his gaze was on the way your handheld Yoongi’s thumb, squeezing it lightly in nervousness he thinks because you used to do that with him a lot. He grows more irritated when he sees the way you subtly lean your head onto his bicep and seek warmth and comfort in his embrace. Your eyes look everywhere and when they meet him again Jungkook decides to not look away holding your gaze with a pained look on his face you decide to send him a small smile and look away, leaning into Yoongi even further which makes Jungkook furious.

“I’ll send you the address, and don’t bring gifts, it's a no-gift birthday party,” he raised a finger in a warning and you giggled with a roll of your eyes.

“Whatever you say,” you sing, and leave hand in hand with Yoongi once you all exchange goodbyes.

Silence overtakes the garage, Jungkook’s eyes stay on the door that you just left from and finally looks away when Jimin chuckles—throwing an arm over Jungkook’s shoulder.

He sighs dreamily, rather dramatically Jungkook thinks, “If only you weren’t a fucking asshole that could’ve been you, lover boy,” he slaps his shoulder and Jungkook raises his arm, pushing Jimin off but he runs away with a squeal before Jungkook could slap him.

He comes back after a fit of giggles, “But man I hope you're okay,” he says more seriously giving Jungkook a sad smile.

“I’m fine,” he shrugs, showing indifference but the beating of his heart and the croak in his voice betray his words.

——

A beer in hand and other on his phone as he mindlessly scrolls through his feed, he enjoys the bustle outside of the party and the serene calm sound of waves crashing against each other at the terrace of Jimin’s parent's room. 

The party had started a couple of hours ago, not even halfway there as people mingle and talk. He even spotted you, a cute little two-piece clad on your curves. They had little sunflowers on them, small pathetic excuses of triangles covering your nipples but he could imagine the perky pebbles in his face as they erected through the material. The bottom half had a cute see-through mini skirt as a cover-up that covered the bikini yet exposed everything at the same time. 

You looked really good, and when you found his gaze you had sent him a small smile waving a little. But he had looked away escaping out to the terrace to stop himself from thinking about you. To bask in his own misery.

He couldn’t take the sight of you lovingly sitting on Yoongi’s lap, playing with his hair while he conversed around, a beer in his hand while he sat sprawled out on one of the lawn chairs. You had those love-sick eyes that he loved seeing yet he only realized he loved them when they were on him.

You whispered and kissed him lovingly, giggling into his neck as his hands held your hips.

Was he really that fucking funny?

He watched the way he teasingly released the strings on the side of your bathing suit and you gasped and slapped his arm away, quick to tie it back up.

He wished it were him.

Fuck,

He wished he didn’t fuck up, yet here he is fucking up even the friendship you possibly could have had but he cold-shouldered you every time you try and show any kindness, or start a conversation.

He sighs laying on his back while his bicep covers his eyes from the blaring sun, trying to clear his thoughts away from you. He needed to stop thinking of you before he tried to jump off the terrace…

It was indeed an enticing idea at this moment.

Limbs barely contained himself at the mere thought of you having him wanting to torture himself in all kinds of ways. And when he feels the weight of the door to the terrace close shut, a heavy sigh escapes him ready to tell the person occupying his peace to fuck off.

But the words die inside his throat and shove back down into his esophagus when he sees you standing there with a credulous look on your face. Your dainty bikini and mesh skirt that barely covers anything flows with the wind, and your hair also blows in the direction the gust is coming from. 

You look ethereal Jungkook thinks, standing there all meek with a guilty look on your face, looking prettier than ever and that’s when he catches himself slipping, a smile almost etched himself onto his lips and he’s quick to turn away and clear his throat. 

A practiced scowl takes over and he looks back at you again. 

“What?” He asks, he even grimaces when it comes out a bit more aggressively than he intended to, and he feels his heart tug at the pained expression on your face. 

He was angered all of a sudden, it was because of your presence that he was escaping the pool and when he finds you here again it just did something to him.

All the feelings and constant regret, the doubts and fears, what if’s all clouding his mind in an array of emotions either through sadness and agony, or jealousy and anger.

He decided that he feels both when it comes to you, he feels everything when it comes to you and he hates himself for the wrong timing of his realization because Jungkook is beyond repair, and damaged the foundations of your friends so easily, what makes him think he had a chance to get to any level of a relationship with you now that he’s acted like such an asshole towards you?

Jeon Jungkook, ladies and gentlemen.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt I just wanted to get the donut floaty…” you trail off and your face suddenly starts getting warm from the embarrassment you feel from the exaggerated bored expression on his face. If a look could make you cry, it would be the one on his face right now.

“Or never mind I’ll come back for it-” You turn around and roll your eyes.

“You can grab it, I don’t care,” he says, laying back down on his back, glancing up at the clear sky.

You mutter out a weak ‘okay’ and quickly dig through the pile of junk in the corner near Jungkook’s chair. 

Fuck, Jungkook thinks taking a glance at you only to see you bent down, ass puckered out, bikini barely covering your nether region and he uses all the strength in him to look away.

“Can you find it any faster?” He grumbles, getting up to help you search for the damn floaty just so you can get out of here and he doesn’t have your presence interrupting his sulking thoughts…. of well…..you.

“I got it Jungkook you can sit back down,” you sigh, and he mutters curse words underneath his breath cursing whichever wicked person decided to let the fucking universe let this moment happen. 

Once you find the floaty Jungkook also realized he’s also grabbed a part of it, bringing it up at the same time as you, and it’s when you face him that he notices the close proximity between the both of you. You have a sharp stare aimed right at him and Jungkook moves in closer, eyes challenging yours while he slowly bends down to your level.

You breathe out a scoff when he’s near and Jungkook licks his lips, and it’s as if time freezes when he sees the same action of your tongue darting out that he has a small spark of hope lit off inside of him. The hurtful want in his heart tugging him towards you until he’s breathing you in, eyes casting down your face until the worst thing he deemed to be in the ENTIRE WORLD happens.

“Baby did you find the float!” 

Your boyfriend calls out, voice closer to the terrace and you scramble away from Jungkook, pushing at his chest gently while you manage to grasp the floaty in your hands.

“Yes Yoongi I’m coming,” you yell back, pausing at the door for a moment and Jungkook hopes with his whole heart that you turn around. Because if you do then the spark of hope in him…will ignite, it will give him the courage to try again.

But when you linger around longer than usual he sees you walk off without turning back for a single glance his way.

Damn.

———

Jungkook doesn’t see you for the next couple of months, randomly only getting updates from you on your Instagram that he stalks way too often than he should be. It was a guilty pleasure of his reality, it was his way of checking in on you without having to text you and he thought it was safer that way.

It was safer for his heart, and to save himself from embarrassment. But when Jungkook got off the clock today, showered and ready in bed to continue with his daily stalking, he noticed something different on your page. Something was missing and after staring at it for so long he realized the annoying lovesick hand-holding and disgustingly cute couple picture you had up of you and Yoongi—we’re all gone. Not even that you had taken down all your selfie picture he would stare at for hours, but that didn’t kill his mood. 

He was so beyond happy to see that maybe- just maybe you and Yoongi had broken up. Why else would you take down those photos? And every other selfie you had posted between the time period of you two dating. He wonders what’s changed, eager to know what had happened but Jungkook takes this as a sign from god and decides to send you a simple text, something not out of the ordinary. Maybe he shouldn’t consider how things went the last couple of encounters he’s had with you but what can he do?

The only girl he’s ever truly loved and cared for had finally learned her worth and moved on from him.

Ironic of him, truly

Wow he really was a shitty person.

To put things in that perspective Jungkook winces at the way he treated you, he strung you along, embarrassed you, and you took a strike to your dignity because of him.

He claimed that was because he wasn’t ready, or that his past relationship had haunted him, but really…Jungkook loved the attention. He loved it so he sometimes indulged in it, not really thinking about how it would have affected you in the long run.

You: ‘Sorry who is this?’

Had you really deleted his number?

JayKay: ‘It’s Jungkook’

You: ‘Oh uhh… sure we can meet up

His heart races in his chest, cheeks blazing as he finally gets to see you again. Maybe he’d apologize.

Hopefully.

JayKay: ‘Tomorrow I get off at noon, come by and we’ll grab some lunch :)?’

You: ‘Sure’

Jungkook can only hope that you accept the apology that he provides and hopefully his heart.

——

How Jungkook finds himself buried between your legs, your hands wrapped into his black locks while he madly eats at your cunt, he has no idea. But he sure does love the way you whine and sing soft moans out for him, head thrown back while you try and stay seated on the passenger seat of the car he was currently fixing, kneeling on the floor, legs half out the door and on his shoulders.

Shit, he didn’t know his form of apology would come in this way. 

But it just happened.

He holds your thighs open, tongue dipping out to softly lick and tease your folds, come back up to see your cunt spread open, flushed and glistening with his saliva spread so good, he groans.

“God I’ve been wanting to know what you tasted like for so long,” he groans, eyes still admiring his coat of spit on your warm cunt.

“Oh please Jungkook,” you moan, and he smiles coming up to quickly peck you as he gathers the saliva around his teeth, mouth pouting out a spike of spit and it lands straight onto your clit.

“Oh yes!” you pant, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel the spit run down your cunt and onto your ass. Jungkook dives right back in, taking both his hands to spread open your folds and nudge his tongue in, shaking his head to also nose at your clit. Your legs shake at the intense pleasure and all of a sudden you feel the sudden knot in your lower stomach form. 

“Oh fuck yes!” You moan out loud, and Jungkook takes this opportunity to come up for air and latch onto your clit, deeming you wet enough to plunge two fingers in. He moved in vampire speed, the soft moans and loud strings of his name only spurring him on, feeling your cunt gush and flutter every few seconds has him riled up in his overalls.

“Needed you for so long, now you're falling apart all over my tongue,” he moans into your cunt, indulging in your taste a little longer until he pulls his fingers out and detaches his mouth from your cunt with one last kiss to it.

“Fuck, stand up”  he says with a grin and disheaveled hair, you got up wobbling on your feet and Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist.

He tugs you closer and cups his other hand around your jaw, kissing your lips with a fierce passion that has your stomach turning and aching with want, butterflies fly throughout your bodies and onto each other clashing with the lacklustre of unsaid emotions between you two: ultimately making this moment even more passionate.

Fuck Jungkook thinks, hands now gripping your waist in an attempt to pull you flush against his pelvis and when you whimper into the kiss he detached himself with one final suck on your tongue and a slow bite on your bottom lip, eyes fiercely gazing down into your own. 

“Fuckkk you're so pretty,” he whispers, eyes skimming down your face, swollen lips, puffy cheeks and you smile coyly, shyly shoving at his chest for the compliment. 

“Come here,” he grins sitting inside the passenger seat of the car, reclining the chair all the way down before he gestures for you to come sit on him.

You throw your legs around his body, straddling him as his hands travel down and grab the flesh of your ass to scoot you closer.

“I didn’t mean my lap babe,” he smirks, and you quirk an eyebrow in confusement, when he manhandles you and drives your legs up higher his body, that’s when you understand and gasp softly.

“A-are you sure?” you ask, concern laced your voice and Jungkook grins, licking his lip as he aligns you over his face, your knees digging into the headrest space that’s available, arms grabbing the ceilings of the 4x4. When he nods in encouragement and you hesitate he delivers a slight smack to your clit making you jolt forwards but he knew you like it when a gush of arousal seeps out of you.

“Mmm okay ok, please tell me if I hurt you, I don’t wanna kill you,” you murmur the last part and Jungkook chuckles. 

“I’d die a happy man,” he smirk before spreading open your lips with his fingers, tongue darting out to lick and suck at your clit with a surprising pressure and Jungkook chuckles when you jolt forwards.

He buries his hand around the flesh of your thighs and holds you down so you don’t run away. “Ride my fucking face,” he grunts, and you don’t hesitate this time, sitting done properly on his face so that his nose aligns with your clit and your folds aim for his tongue. You breathlessly moan when you start moving up and down, and letting Jungkook bring you closer to your high.

“Feels so good,” you whine and Jungkook continues slurping up your cunt juices making sure to help you grind down on his face to get off. 

“Taste”, kiss, “So”, kiss, “Good” he says in between dipping his tongue into your cunt, feeling you pulse and flutter around him and he knows you're close.

“Gonna cum?” he asks and you whine, nodding your head eagerly. You place your fingers in between strands of his hair and slightly angle his face deeper into your clit so he can get you to your end.

Jungkook absolutely loves that you're using him, mouth open wide as he stares into your eyes, stains of tears running down your cheek at the intense pleasure, fuck.

He bucks his hip up to search for any type of release, and then suddenly he feels your legs shake in his grasp, and your head lolling back.

“Oh my god! Yes!” you moan out, riding his face faster and Jungkook braces himself for a couple of seconds to get you off, feeling himself suffocating underneath you, but he lets it happen. His arms loosen around your thighs as you bury yourself deeper into his face.

“Ahh, yes, ohhhh,” you drag out your moans and Jungkook groans against you, hand coming up to smooth over the skin of your thigh in an attempt to lift you off him.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” you flush from embarrassment, feeling the heat on your cheeks sore throughout your whole body. You raise yourself up for a moment, cheekily grinning down at his glistened face. You gasp, flying to gather your shirt that had flown off in the process of this, grabbing it to wipe his face meekly, softly dabbing it onto his skin.

“What are you doing?” he chuckles and you wiggle back down to straddle his thighs, softly placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

You’ve missed him so much.

You let your eyes linger on his features, the same ones that you had imprinted into your own head for months, the same bubbly nose, thick eyebrows, and doe eyes that hadn’t been able to leave your mind for the past year. Even when you were in a committed relationship you couldn’t shake them away, even if you were happy with Yoongi you couldn’t shake him away. 

He was one of the reasons why your relationship with Yoongi didn’t work out, amongst others. The guilt was too much, committing to Yoongi when you knew that your heart yearned for another, your mind had that bunny smile plastered in every corner of your mind. 

The same pearly whites that he flashes at your curious eyes gazing down his face, and into his eyes.

“What?” he asks and you shake away from your daze, shyly grinning as you hop off his lap to adjust your skirt.

No.

You don’t want to put your heart through the torture of not knowing where you stand with Jungkook, again. You don’t want the uncertainty and all the doubt it comes with being involved with him.

So you take this time to collect yourself and ask him why he had texted you to come over, surely getting sidetracked this way wasn’t on the agenda that much you can tell by the surprised expression on his face and the initial shock on his tongue meeting your own in a fiery kiss when you first came in.

You cross your arms and smooth down your shirt and skirt, “Why did you text me last night?” you asked.

Jungkook properly wipes his mouth and sits up at the edge of the car to face you, eyes blinking cowardly while he racks his brains for a reason, you think. A reason to mask the truth of course because you know him. This is what he does, leading you into the mud until he doesn't need you.

But you want your answer now and you want it fast. You're tired of playing games with him.

After a prolonged silence, you start to sigh heavily and turn away from him making sure to hide away your broken heart and tear welding eyes from his own.

“I missed you alright, I really did” Jungkook blurts, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn around to face him, an expecting look on your face for him to continue, he blinks doe eyes absolutely lost and your brain moving 200km/hour, you can tell.

Chuckling you throw your head back and scoff, “Is it really that hard for you to tell me you like me?” you ask.

Jungkook’s face goes red, not denying or adding to your statement simply standing up to dust his overalls. You cross your arms over each other raising a brow at his silence.

He doesn’t say anything. After a beat of silence, you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief as you walk out of the garage, without a look back and Jungkook gulps back the lump in his throat. Distracting himself with the car he was working on, the car he had just eaten you out on top of, and his heart clenches repeatedly at your expression of disappointment from him. 

Forever printed into his mind.

—

“I thought you said this was a frat party, not a crack house” you complain, pulling the bottom of your short dress down with every step you take into the house. Hoseok snorts, hand reaching out for yours and you slip your fingers together.

“Do me a favour and shut up for a minute.” he rolls his eyes, eyes teasingly glaring at you. Reaching the living room, Hoseok finally lets go of your hand, calling over his shoulder that he’s getting drinks for the both of you. 

You huff, sitting down on one of the love seats, pulling your phone out. A bunch of hollers and whistles are heard throughout the house but one side of the room drives your attention, glancing at the other side of the huge living space you notice the ping pong games going on. Your eyes curiously dance over to the corner and see a familiar build, he’s shoving his tongue down a girl's throat, a circle of people surrounding them. 

You scoff, of course. When said man winks at her and tries to crane his neck, his eyes meet your own briefly, and you look away quickly. You are not surprised that Jungkook’s getting turnt at a random party with yet another woman. Unaffected anymore you look away, Hoseok finally coming back with drinks and you mumble thanks as he sits beside you, and starts conversations with the people around him. 

Your eyes lift once more and an even more shocking pair of eyes meet yours and at this, your heart leaps a little, it’s Yoongi looking even more handsome with long jet-black hair, his arms and chest looking buffer than normal. He sports a black button-up opened up with a white tank top, baggy cargo and a chain so shiny you can see your reflection.

“Oh ‘....’, Hello” he smiles, a shaky breath escaping him, you smile so wide, immediately jumping up on your feet to greet him, arms wrapping around his neck and his arms around your frame, pulling you so close to him your feet lift off the floor.

“How’s it going,” You sigh, pulling away.

“Good, calm and peaceful,” he lets you go and you smile.

“Just how you like it huh,” and he chuckles.

 “So what, you’re done your placement in New York?” you ask about his job that had stationed him there for a few months, right after your breakup.

“Yeah I finally got a permanent placement here,” he trails off, his arms itching towards you but he wraps them around his biceps instead, crossing them. The obvious instinct to reach out to each other is still fresh, muscles twitching into comfort soothing touches on each other's warm skin. You felt it too, felt your arms reach for his dark locks but had half a mind to control yourself, instead you smile so fondly that your heart squeezes so tightly. 

Two lovers who star gazed, spent hours upon hours in each other’s bed, body intertwined, souls intertwined. It’s a bittersweet moment, and you think Yoongi can feel it too, with the way his smile matches your own. 

You’ve always appreciated Yoongi, and always will. He was the first person that taught you what love meant, the first person to show you how you should be loved. Perhaps in another lifetime, you two would have been end-game, you think you’d be in love with him so hard. You don’t believe in the right person wrong time, but you sure do believe that Yoongi and you were meant to be in another universe, another era of your life…..if your heart wasn’t already struggling with the feelings of another man, you’d think that Yoongi would've been for you. 

—

Jungkook’s eyes stay glued to the way you smile and the way your hands naturally intertwine with Yoongi’s, animatedly talking. Yoongi matched the smile you sport, a gummy smile he reserved for you, otherwise, his eyes were stern, a look so means that people could think he was killing em with it. 

The dynamic between you two was weird, you guys seemed as if you have nothing in common, you are so bubbly and outgoing and Yoongi just seems so- unbothered and low energy. Jungkook guesses that you both mesh perfectly despite the differences like you both were end-game even broken up and it has him discouraged. 

You looked so happy, and Jungkook cursed under his breath, insecurity and jealousy bubbling inside of him. 

“We shouldn’t,” you say, and Jungkook’s ear perks up nicely looking at the way your gaze softly cracks its calm facade, distress clearly on your face as you turn and find his gaze. Yoongi’s head turns his way as well and he has half a brain to look away. You must have said something about him because what is the coincidence of the both of you looking his way at the same time? 

He notices Yoongi is not by your side by the end of the night. You get out at the same time as him.

“You good?” he asks, eyes watching the way your frame sways side to side, eyes slightly puffy and glossy, but you still have a smile on your face. Maybe you’re a bit tipsy.

“Yes Jungkook, im good” you sigh, and he doesn’t miss the slight irritation in your voice.

“Good….. that's, good” it falls silent between you both and Jungkook lingers around, staring at your side profile as you type away on your phone. He doesn’t know why he stays around for longer but he talks again, to get the conversation going.

“I was thinking about what you said last time…” he trails off, he wasn’t lying he was thinking about the last conversation you both had, but he didn’t mean to tell because he has no idea where he is going with this.

“Okay,” you respond, eyes trained on your phone as if you didn’t believe him.

“So…yeah” he concludes, sighing deeply when he fails you yet again.

“What did I say last time?” you ask, putting your phone back into your purse.

“I don’t remember saying much for you to think about,” you chuckle, crossing your arms, mirroring him.

“Im sorry,” he swallows and he watches your face break out into an amusing one, scoffing lightly.

“Ok” you blink, and Jungkook’s eyes almost tear up from frustration. He’s good at reading people, and he’s taking your disinterest in this conversation badly. He really knows he’s fucked up, beyond repair.

“Well if you don’t know what you want still,” you pull out your phone, “I’ll be on my way”.

“How are you getting home?” he asks in panic, he needs to have this conversation with you.

“Uber.”

“Let me take you, we can stop by and grab some burgers from-”

“Jungkook,” you sigh defeatedly. Raising an accusatory finger up at his chest you step closer.

“I don't have time for you anymore, you’ve wasted my time over and over again and Im tired of this back and forth between us. You made it very clear you don't want me like that, and I’ve learned to accept it. But you keep hanging on to me, you keep….keep– hurting me.” You whisper the last part and that has Jungkook grabbing your wrist.

“That’s not it, I do want you ‘....’” he sighs and his eyes are teary now, watching you trying to wiggle away from his grip on you.

“You never let me finish talking, there's so much I want to tell you” he sighs, you wipe your tears with your sleeve, pliant in his hold now.

“My intentions were never meant to hurt you, I never meant to make you suffer. I struggled at first, and then you got into a relationship, and now you’re single, I had and still have to respect that.” He takes in a deep breath.

“You wanna know why I broke up with Yoongi Jungkook, you want to know why I’ve left possibly one of the most loving people I’ve met in my life……hmm?” you press, jabbing your finger into his chest and Jungkook stumbles back.

“Because I was in love with a coward! a stupid fucking coward, who couldn't confess back to me all because he wanted to keep fucking around” you yell, voice breaking out at the end, and his fucking heart aches.

Aches cause it’s now that it really hits him how much he has hurt you. 

He never intended that, ever.

Fuck.

“‘…’ I-” he says your name but you scoff sharply, chuckling but no humour is found in your tone.

“I thought loving you was supposed to be the best thing ever, but all it’s done is hurt me and I guess it’s my fault for springing my feelings onto a man that doesn’t want them,” you sniff, a weakened smile on your exhausted face and Jungkook breaks.

He grabs your arms to wrap around him, hard tears falling off his own eyes when you bury your head into his chest. It’s like letting a dam go, all this time he’s been keeping you at arm's length for what? Because he’s scared? Scared of committing, scared of disappointing you.

Scared, Scared, Scared.

What a coward.

What a coward Jungkook is.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby I never wanted to hurt you, it was never supposed to be like this….” he says. And all of a sudden he’s angered, frustrated at you. Why did you have to love him of all people, 

And why did he have to love you back?

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

3 Years Later

Spring is such a love-hate season. You either enjoy the wildlife and plants, or resent them very, very, much. You're in between the two right now, trying to enjoy the beautiful flowers that grow in your garden, and keeping up with your plant shop that has different lilies and sunflowers sprouting, beautifully— you may add. But as you fail to control your sneezing and red eyes, you decide to pop another allergy pill that may do the trick, you think.

You're just glad that the weather isn't so wet and dull, and well on its way into the warmer season and bikini tops. Sighing lightly you manage to finish your watering and inventory for today, deciding to take your lunch around noon, you lock the shop and put up the lunch sign. There’s a cafe that has just opened down the road and you’ve been wanting to check it out for a while, it keeps coming up on your feed and Hoseok has been bugging you to try it out. 

Walking in you take a look around the beautiful shop, it was wooden and green themed, with lots of plants and high ceilings that showcase the sun beaming on the customer's faces. It smelled even more divine as you took in all of the blueberry and raspberry scones on display, chocolate croissants, and the smell of all types of coffee roasts. You are probably the biggest coffee fiend, being able to tell the difference between dark, blonde, and regular roast coffee. It was a gift, but it was also the skills that come along with being an addict.

The man in front smiles at you, “What can I get for you?” he asks and you can't help but beam, ordering every flavour of scones and a matcha latte, your heart already full of happiness from the beautiful array of desserts, making sure to snap a picture at one of the tables and sending it to Hoseok and your mom.

You enjoy your little scones and latte, getting up to grab some napkins at the register-

“Hyung it’s been a while,” you hear the barista address the man at the counter, with a mouth full of the blueberry scone and napkins midway to wiping your lips you take a glance at who he is addressing.

No-

You chuckle lightly to yourself, blinking a couple of times to confirm the face you see and it's more than enough evidence when he speaks, ordering two drinks.

Fuck

You quickly swallow the scone, moving back to your seat and accidentally make eye contact with him on the way of you rush out. You see a flash of recognition twinkle in his eyes yet you fleet fast, and far away back into your shop, basically running down the block like a mad woman.

You don't know why you reacted that way. Maybe it was because you haven't seen him in so long or maybe it was the woman that he had tucked in between him and his arms, a fond smile on his face as he regards her, ordering drinks for the two.

Your heart starts to clench uncomfortably, the night you last saw him replying in your mind.

“I think it’ll be best for the both of us to go our separate ways, Jungkook” You smiled sadly, unravelling from his embrace. You saw the stain on Jungkook’s shirt, salty tears from you seeping onto his skin.

“You should learn to love someone the right way, and when you find that person I hope you’ll treat them the way I would've liked to be treated,” You say, watching the Uber arrive. You reached up on your tiptoes to leave a kiss on his cheek, one that prolonged longer than it needed to and Jungkook can feel the depth of it in his soul, in his heart….slicing through it.

“I will, ‘...’ I will baby,” he swallowed.

That was how you both had ended things over three years ago, you finally grew the balls to  block him on all social media, his number, and his face from your mind years ago…. until today. You know you’ve moved on. You have, you have moved into the city finally, opened up your little floral shop with whatever savings you’d have left and fled your boring office job. You loved life, you loved being alone and cropping all day long. 

You had developed a new routine, new habits, new crushes, new experiences, new feelings, new friends, and most importantly a new mechanic in all those three years alone. Technically Jimin wasn’t new but you both had gotten closer, common interests and the building you both had lived in had brought you both together. He has become one of the most important people in your life today, and rather than bombarding you with everything that went down with his buddy, he has managed to successfully divert you from the pain. And it was like you didn’t know a Jeon Jungkook. 

He had disappeared from the face of the earth because you had forced yourself to forget his existence, and it worked. Until today, until you had to see him today so happy with his girlfriend. Although that makes you happy that he has found someone, that he has matured enough to develop a relationship like that, the feeling had a bittersweet taste on your tongue.

—

“Don’t bring any more pies because I currently have like five of them sitting on my kitchen counter, I beg,” Namjoon complains through the phone. 

You chuckle, carefully placing the blueberry pie onto your lap on the passenger seat, “Well that’s what happens when you host a dinner party, Jimin and I are gonna be there in 20 minutes,” you make a kissy sound into the phone before putting it down.

“I bet he doesn’t have a blueberry pie yet,” Jimin chuckles, reversing out of the parking spot and you shrug.

“He said there’s already five pies, three out of those five are probably apple, and the other two are pumpkin” You shrug and Jimin chuckles at your blurt.

“Perhaps,” he says. A frown settles deep onto his face while he drives and you notice it but don't say anything, humming along to the radio.

“I would much rather ditch this for a movie and a greasy burger,” Jimin winks and you roll your eyes.

“Hey, we can’t be rude he prepared dinner and plus I thought it would be nice for us to interact and make new friends.” You pout and Jimin chuckles, a little nervously but you brush it off.

“Okayyyy…. But if you change your mind just let me know we still got a block left” and you giggle slapping his arms playfully.

—

Well fuck….

Grabbing Jimin’s arms before he can zoom past you and into the living room, you hiss into his ear, “Why is he here?” you say interrogatively, and Jimin blushes lightly, wincing from the hold you have on his ear.

“Fuck, im sorry ‘..’ I tried to get you to bail,” he shrugs and you huff, taking your heels off as you scramble past him to greet Namjoon.

Jungkook and his partner are here and you do your absolute best to not get their attention in the huge living room Namjoon has, constantly keeping yourself ten feet away you think you're successful until Namjoon asks, “Oh have you met Jungkook and his fiance?” he pulls you towards them.

The air is knocked out of you as you hear the word fiance, but you collect yourself, your heart weirdly clenching as you make eye contact with them. Namjoon introduces you both and you shake her hand, watching as the beautiful petite woman shyly greets you and makes conversation. You have half a mind to nod and answer vaguely, eyes roaming her small face, plump lips, red hair, dress tightly fitted around her hips and waist perfectly. 

“Nice to meet you kyomo” you tightly smile, you can feel the obvious gaze of Jungkook eyes on your face so you turn and greet him as well.

“Jeon,” you nod, and he pronounces your name back.

Namjoon looks between you both, your hand sliding into his smooth one softly as he shakes it slowly. He seems to never look away and you find yourself not being able to do the same.

His hair is short now, and his lips sport a silver ring. He’s wearing a plain black shirt and slacks that make him look mature and put together. You think you can smell his signature cologne on him still, strong and musky, yet soft and gentle just like his face. He’s bigger, broader than you remember and he still has brown doe eyes that expand and sparkle, you always loved to say he wore his emotions in his eyes. You could always just tell from them.

“It’s been a while, how are you?” He asks and you slide your hand from him, taking a step back, glancing away.

“Good, I'm gonna go find Jimin Joon, enjoy your night guys,” You're quick to retreat out of the situation, heading right for the bathroom upstairs and turning on the water. Your lips tremble slightly and your eyes are welled up with tears, why? You don’t know because you have been over him for years now.

You can’t breathe, and you can’t seem to shake away the painful ache in your heart that seems to beat faster and harder just thinking about him now, him getting married, him getting mature, him moving on from you so fast.

He’s getting married, Jungkook is getting married.

“You in here,” you hear your name being called from the other side of the bathroom door, you open it immediately getting pulled into an embrace. Jimin’s arms wrap around your frame as you quietly sob into his shoulder, he knows. He doesn’t ask because he knows.

They always said distance made the heart grow fonder, but you just think that your heart likes to set you up for the worst.

—

The party goes on, roasted dinner praised by everyone and you watch as Joon blushes, telling everyone to keep their voice down. Once finished, everyone heads over to the patio for some drinks and desserts. You offer to clean up, and after much protest Namjoon lets you, and you pat his back in appreciation.

 “You already did so much tonight it’s the least I could do.”

Gathering the dishes and throwing out plastic utensils and cups you manage to clear the dining table, you look through the cabinets for a pair of gloves to get started on the dishes, rummaging through cupboards and cupboards.

“I think he keeps them above the stove,” You recognize that voice, and you muster a tight-lipped smile, reaching up to grab it but failing to do so with how high it is.

“Here,” he offers, coming up behind you to open the cupboard and grab them. You shut your eyes tightly and manage a calm facade when he hands it to you, thanking him with a mumble before you put them on.

“You gonna need help?” he asks after a moment of you gathering dishes. Help would be nice, but you wouldn't prefer it from him.

“Nah im good, thanks” you smile, getting to work.

Jungkook chuckles, grabbing a pair of gloves for himself, “Scoot over, I'm helping” he says and you momentarily meet his gaze and look away without a word as he helps you soak and put dishes into the dishwasher.

It’s quiet for a while, successfully cleaning the dishes and loading the bigger pots in the dishwasher.  

Jungkook’s staring again, a little awkward so you speak up.

“How long have you been together?” you ask, and you can see Jungkook visibly stiffen.

“Over 2 years now,” he says, and you nod. You make a move to wipe the tables and Jungkook’s coming to help you again.

“I think I’ve got this, you can go and join everyone outside” You turn around abruptly, stopping him in his tracks. 

“I thought we could catch up,” he smiles. And you almost scoff out loud, whether you're bitter because of Jungkook’s marriage announcement or the fact that he has the audacity to try and keep things natural between the two of you as if he didn’t break your heart in two….

Maybe the latter but it still hurts. And all of a sudden everything feels fresh like he just left you a day ago, broke you a day ago. 

There’s a reason why you both didn’t work out? Was it because of Jungkook incapabilities to communicate or his lack of feelings for you? You don’t know but one thing you do know is that Jungkook never really loved you like he said he did if he wasn’t able to work on his problems for you. 

Jungkook never loved you enough 

Enough enough enough 

You weren’t enough for him and the thought has bile rising up your stomach. It has your heart skipping beats and incredible hurt seizing through you. 

You were never enough.

“There’s nothing much to catch up on really, I-”

“I’m sorry for the way things ended,” he sighs, your name slipping past his tongue so tiredly.

“Look, can we just look past this and- and be friends again?” he’s hopeful, he looks hopeful. His eyes are tender and his body language screams frustration.

Perhaps

“Of course” You reach a hand out to him, he’s smiling, putting his bigger hand with yours for a handshake. You feel….okay. This feels okay now, your heart doesn’t feel like it’s ripping in two and for once you're not reminiscing about the past. 

Your content, you’ve moved on.

“Let’s work on our friendship this new year, let’s not look back anymore Jungkook,” you say and Jungkook nods eagerly. 

“I agree.” 

There was no hatred, no passive tone, no hidden anger or jealousy in your words. You truly meant it, and you hope he understands.

“Baby, are you coming?” Kyomo calls and Jungkook’s eyes leave your face to his fiancés on the patio. His beautiful wife stands, reaching a hand out for him to grab. He looks back at you, but you encourage him with one last nod and divert your attention back to the counter.

“Yeah, yeah I am….” he trails off, you think you see him send a small smile your way before he goes out but you don’t care anymore. 

You're just happy you're free now.

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

65+87 please?

this has been sitting in my drafts for almost a month lol, i hated it when i wrote it but i just stumbled upon it again and realized it was sad to leave it sitting unread even if its not my favorite - so i hope someone enjoys my slightly angsty take on the prompt

65 First Kiss/Date + 87 Unresolved Sexual Tension

If it were anyone else calling Mickey ‘patient’, he’d laugh in their face.

But Ian had brought out much more outlandish qualities in him over the last few months, so it's no surprise that when it comes to him Mickey could find nearly endless patience. 

Three months ago, standing in front of Ian with his lungs screaming from the cold air he listened to Ian tell him that yes, this was him breaking up with Mickey. 

Mickey looked at Ian for a second. Looked at his pale, shivering form and couldn't find any anger for him. He was fucking heartbroken, and had to turn and look down the street just to take his eyes away.

“Take your meds, Ian” he simply. “Break up with me, sure. I can’t make you love me, I don’t want to. But you have what it takes to get control of this thing, with the meds or therapy or whatever and you’re really, really going to regret it if you don’t just because you were too busy being a mopey asshole to try.”

 “Fuck you, Mickey. I’m doing this because I love you, I’m letting you go, you don’t fucking owe me anything.”

Mickey shook his head, indignation finally welling up in his chest. He pushed the gate open harshly and stomped up to stand toe to toe with Ian “you’re doing this for you, because you want it to hurt. You think you deserve it, and you think I deserve it too.”

Ian looked so tired, like he wanted to cry. So Mickey just huffed a sigh, bringing a hand up to his cheek, patting it once before turning to walk away. 

“I can’t do it with you watching” Ian said suddenly. “I can't make any promises but if I’m going to try to make it work with the meds and get myself back on track, I need to do it alone.”

Mickey looked back with a huff, he knows that Ian wasn’t trying to be mean, but he couldn’t help but feel like Ian was blaming him. And maybe Mickey was the problem, Fiona and Lip and even little fucking Debbie had told him enough times that Ian needed to be in the hospital. 

“But if I can get to a better place, can I come find you?” Ian asked hopefully.

It was like their moods had swapped in a matter of seconds, Mickey just drew his mouth into a tight line, shaking his head slightly. “Let’s not make any promises to each other,” was what he decided on before walking away, back the way he came to crawl back into the den of misplace objects that had taken over his home and get drunk.

The next morning Mickey called over some guys he knew from the moving business that went bust to buy all the suitcase shit and haul it away. He took all the baby stuff Svetlana left behind and shoved it in the attic, working away at a bottle of whiskey as he went. 

It was like doing an autopsy to see how fucked up his life had become over the last couple of years. Unearth a condom here, a little baby sock here, Mandy’s blonde hair dye-

Mandy, Mickey realized with a pang of horror. Mandy left and he’d hardly even noticed. He spent the rest of the afternoon calling (almost) everyone Mandy knew and narrowed down where she moved to. He woke up the next day before the sun was completely over the horizon and started driving South East. 

Kenyatta might not have seen it in the moment, but he got very lucky that all it took was a bullet in the leg to get Mandy into Mickey’s car. 

She got a job at a high end restaurant, as hostess and then quickly moving up to waitress. Mickey started small time dealing again, making just enough cash to cover his meager expenses. They didn’t really hang out for a while, both siblings holed up in their rooms, licking their wounds. 

Mandy left him alone until he came home with a busted up face after he missed off the wrong supplier with his big fucking mouth. She hounded him after that, about getting his GED with her, going to community college.

“What are you going to do when dad gets out?” she asked, following him to the kitchen.

“Hope that this stint of fucking guys for a few months liberalized his views on same sex relationships” Mickey snarked back.

“Mickey, come on.”

“Or claim there was a gas leak that made me crazy for dick” he continued sarcastically reaching into the fridge.  

“Look Mickey, you’re twenty years old, you have no record as an adult and you should be making an effort to keep it that way unless you want to end up in and out of prison like dad” Mandy said testily, snatching a beer out of his hand.

“What the fuck do you want me to do Mandy?”

“Jesus!” she exploded. “The only thing I’ve ever seen you give a shit about was your stupid fucking boyfriend. You’re worse than me!”

Mickey just stared her down with a brusque fuck you and started walking away. 

“He’s getting out in less than a year Mickey,” she warned. “I’m saving up to rent my own place until then, and I suggest you do the same.”

She was right, he knew that and he just wanted to be a pigheaded asshole for a little while longer so he started scrolling through craigslist ads for security until something caught his eye. 

He lied through the interview, surprisingly at ease as long as he was able to be pulling a con in some way, even if he was just lying about who he was. He was armed with the knowledge that he’d bribed Linda Karib into saying that he was a valued member of the security staff at her large, upscale market and that Mandy would pick up the phone and follow any lie he’d told them.

“You got a job where?” Mandy asked incredulously, picking up the two suits he’d been given as a uniform from where he’d tossed them on the couch after he was hired.

“The Art Institute” He said around a mouthful of cereal. “You know, the big building on Michigan Ave with the Lions out front.”

“Why the hell did you want to work there?” Mandy asked incredulously. 

“It pays more than any other security gig I could get without a GED,” Mickey said. “And it’s like really cool, I’ll be guarding fucking Van Gogh and Michelangelo.”

“Yeah, guarding them from fifth grade class trips,” Mandy teased. “There’s a Michelangelo in Chicago?”

Mickey scowled and sucked his teeth, “you know what I mean.”

Against all odds, Mickey loved his job. He was vigilant enough to keep kids and entitled adults from touching anything they weren’t supposed to, but mostly spent his time rotating with the shift changes, getting exposed to something new and beautiful. Ancient Korean pottery, massive modern canvases, baroque paintings applied to wooden triptychs, and he had a front row seat to all of it.

He had nothing but time to think, he’d start his shift hating the painting across from him, and after a few hours he’d come to understand it, if not like it. 

It kept his mind off of Ian, which was important. He’d be reminded of his ex-boyfriend in a particularly golden shade of red, or the odd bright splash of green, but after a while he’d learned to let those thoughts come and then quietly escort them out without any anger or resentment. 

In short, four months after Ian broke up with him, Mickey was relatively happy and fulfilled. He had a good relationship with his family (the only member that mattered anyways), a job he liked (well, didn’t totally despise), and modern technology took care of everything else (grindr).

He was getting ready to meet up with a guy from the app when a wrench got thrown into the whole machine. He had showered and gelled his hair, putting on a clean shirt that showed off his arms, he was grabbing his wallet from the kitchen table when he noticed the shock of red hair contrasting with the grey of his living room. 

Ian turned around once he’d realized Mickey had come out of his room. Mandy must have let him in, seating him on the couch and leaving him like a sadistic little gift for Mickey to find, the fucking bitch. 

Mickey froze, hand outstretched as Ian turned to face him, scrambling up off the couch. 

“Hi Mickey,” Ian said breathily, attempting a grin. He looked good, healthy and normal. He looked like the Ian that left Mickey in his room to run off to the army, just a little older. 

“Uh” Mickey said, unhelpfully. “What are you doing here?”

Ian surveyed him up and down hesitantly. “Your sister let me in,” he said lamely.

Mickey raised his brows to say not the question I asked, fuckhead.

“Do you want to go get something to eat?” Ian asked nervously. 

“I’m not really hungry” Mickey said stupidly, not understanding why Ian was standing in his living room.

Ian deflated slightly “we could get a drink, or just go for a walk or something.”

“What are you getting at, Gallagher?” Mickey asked tiredly.

“I’m trying to ask you on a date” Ian said with a halfhearted smile. “I’ve been on my meds consistently for three months now so I thought-”

“Congrats, Ian that’s really great” Mickey said, bittersweet. “But if you got your shit together because I was gone, I should probably stay away.”

“No!” Ian blurted out. “No, I got better so I could see you again. I wasn’t going to put you through anymore than I already had.”

Mickey didn’t say anything to that, so Ian continued. “I know that I hurt you when I said that I needed to do this alone. But I’ve been working for the past few months to try and become someone I was proud of, so I wouldn’t feel so fucking sick every time you looked at me.”

Taking a deep breath, Mickey tried to calm down. He wanted to yell, he wanted to hug Ian, he wanted to leave and never see him again. But most of all he saw that he was being given the chance to start over, and he wanted to take it. 

“Fuck it, yeah, let's go to dinner” he agreed. 

“I thought you said you weren’t hungry,” Ian asked curiously, grinning wildly. 

“I can always eat,” Mickey said, finally sliding his wallet into his back pocket. “Can we get pancakes?”

“Yeah, hell yeah. Let’s go get some flapjacks” Ian agreed excitedly. “Wait-were you going somewhere?”

“Nah” Mickey dismissed. “Faceless Jonny can murder some other twink tonight.”

Ian laughed. It didn’t have that hyper, nasty quality Mickey had grown to flinch away from. 

It seemed like they agreed to set any uneasiness aside for the night so they could sit together and share a stack of pancakes. 

He told Ian all about the rescue mission to Indiana, the way Kenyatta charged at him in the living room before he could get his gun out and had to hold his own against the absolute mountain of a man before he managed to get his gun out. He told him about the spring he’d mostly shared with his sister, about the museum.  

“You do what?” Ian said, letting out a stalling laugh, nearly choking around a mouthful of bacon. 

“Stop laughing, it’s fun and I make good money” Mickey grumbled. “We can’t all be training to save lives.”

“Do you wear the little suit?” Ian asked, ignoring him. 

“Do you?” Mickey shot back. 

“Not yet but I will,” Ian said proudly. 

Ian didn’t share very much about what he’d been doing. Mickey managed to figure out that he was working working at Patsy’s for a while, before he started EMT training, he talked a lot about his family, Debbie getting pregnant and Carl going to juvie, but he had this was of talking around himself that made Mickey realize he probably spent a lot of the last few months pretty miserable. 

“So, I mean-this is our first date, right?” Ian asked with a grin, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Yeah, I guess so” Mickey said hesitantly.

“So, tell me stuff I don’t know” Ian said like it was obvious. “You know, siblings, childhood, likes and dislikes.”

Mickey snickered sarcastically leaning back with his arms crossed “number of siblings unknown, childhood was horrific. Likes; guns, redheads, tattoos, dutch renaissance painting, italian futurist sculpture, Bon Jovi, high fructose corn syrup. Dislikes; boston accents, bostson sports teams, men who can’t fight, vegetables that aren’t fried, and any pop song on the top 100.”

Ian grinned wildly, giddy and joyful “That is a very comprehensive run down, A+.”

Mickey chuckled a little, leaning forward and letting out a quick thanks. He turned to Ian and motioned for him to start talking.

“Five siblings. Mixed childhood, mostly good. Likes summer, professional hockey, pop music, thin highlighters, bad boys-hey, don’t kick me!-call of duty, and these days green tea. Dislikes Romantic comedies, football, mood stabilizers, menthol cigarettes, and hoodies without zippers.”

Mickey grinned at his stupid list, and his stupid smiling face. He felt himself getting sucked back into Ian’s magnetic orbit. 

“Would you let me take you out again?” Ian asked eagerly. “This was a pretty good first date.”

Reality came crashing down on Mickey again, and he remembered that this wasn’t really their first date, that nothing was normal between them “are you sure you’re ready for-whatever if is you’re trying to get out of this?”

Ian’s face fell, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I’ve spent the last few months trying to get to this point so I could come back to you.”

Mickey leaned forward to make eye contact with him, trying to decide wether or not to trust him. His eyes were wide and anxious but steady. Taking a deep breath and praying that it wasn’t a mistake. 

“Yeah, okay. I believe you,” Mickey agreed. “But I’m not doing this again, if we break up again it’s fucking over, I’m not going to spend the rest of my life running around in circles with you.”

Ian nodded enthusiastically “yeah, no, that makes sense. I don't want to do that either.”

He paid the check and they left together, when they got back to Mickey’s house he nodded up at it with a grin, “come in, Mandy won’t be back until later.”

Hesitating slightly, Ian took a deep breath and paused. “So, I’m totally ready to start dating you, totally ready. And I’ll come up to watch a movie or play video games or just hang out, but I don’t to have sex tonight, or for a little while.”

Looking down at his crotch automatically, Mickey pulled a questioning face. 

“It works,” Ian supplied with a blush. “It’s back up and running and everything. I just-once I could finally think clearly, I started getting this really uncomfortable feeling like my body isn’t mine, because I didn’t make choices I’m proud of, all the time. I’m still kind of struggling with that so if we can just go out and not fuck for a while that would be great for me, but-”

“Ian chill out. That’s fine, we can hang out.” Mickey said urgently. “You’ll want to eventually though, right? ‘Cause if this is a never again thing we'll need to figure-”

“No! No, definitely not never again, just like give me a couple weeks” Ian amended.

“Yeah, that’s fine. However long you need” Mickey agreed, walking up the stairs, “come on, I’m gonna’ kick your ass at the new grand theft auto just as bad as all the others.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ian groaned and flopped down on Mandy’s purple comforter.

“What’s got you all moody?” Mandy asked, uncapping a bottle of nail polish. 

“Your fucking brother won’t get naked for me” Ian whined.

“Ew! Jesus Ian” Mandy shrieked. “Just apologize for whatever he’s pissed about.”

“He’s not pissed,” Ian insisted. “Why would he be pissed?”

“I don’t know, why else would he be holding out on you?”

“On first date after we broke up, I mean-I guess that was our first date period, I told him I wanted to take it slow, at least with sex. After everything I’d done before getting diagnosed I just-didn’t want to jump into a physical relationship right away” Ian explained. 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Mandy agreed. 

“Yeah but that was almost three months ago and I have been very ready for a while and making it very fucking clear, but every time he shuts me down.”

“Shuts you down how?” She asked noncommittally, carefully painting her big toe. 

“The other night we were making out on the couch so I was trying to take his shirt off and he just pulled it down and looked at me like I was trying to fucking deflower him.”

Mandy let out a laugh, moving on to her other foot “have you tried telling him point blank that you wanna’ bang?”

“Kind of, not in so many words but I’ve tried to imply, in a seductive way, that I am really, really beyond ready and that by balls are starting to hurt.”

“You’re just being dramatic,” Mandy dismissed. “Just tell him what you’re telling me, which is what you should have done a week ago.”

“Yeah, I should have just told him. But now it’s like, weird. Like it’s weird that he’s purposely ignoring the like, big neon sign stuck to my forehead that basically screams I’m horny.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” she said disinterestedly.

“He was three months ago,” Ian said, eye brows drawn. “So you think I’ve like, turned him off?”

“I have no idea, Ian!” She exclaimed. “I’ve already talked about my brother’s sex life way more than I wanted to this afternoon, it’s weird that you guys sleep in the same bed every other night but don’t have sex. And if you’re not the one with the problem, maybe he is.”

Ian laid back, deep in thought until Mandy kicked him out so she could get ready to work. Mickey got back an hour later, dressed in his dark suit. It didn’t fit him perfectly, but it made the darkness of his hair and eyelashes stand out even more. 

He said hi to Ian quickly before disappearing into his bedroom, unaware of Ian perking up and following him. “Mickey?” He asked curiously through the door. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hold on,” came a muffled reply.

“Can I just come in?” Ian asked impatiently. 

He waited a beat, then Mickey came out fully dressed in jeans and a teeshirt “jesus, where’s  the fire?”

“Why won’t you have sex with me?” Ian blurted out. “I mean, we both want to, unless I’m reading the signs wrong but the sexual tension feels pretty fuckin’ intense.”

Mickey licked his lips and looked away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Ian asked incredulously. “So you’re going to pretend that I haven't been basically practically jumping you every night for the last few weeks?”

“Whatever, you’re the one who didn’t want to have sex” Mickey shot back defensively. “You haven't said anything else since and I know I can be-y'know a little pushy, so I backed the fuck off.”

Ian moved forward quickly, moving to bring both hands up to Mickey’s cheeks and pulling him close before allowing his hands to travel downward slowly until he could tuck his hands comfortably into the back pockets of his jeans. “I get that it’s been weird not having sex, and I really appreciate you being so considerate, but if it’s alright with you I’d like to to back into your bedroom and suck your dick to say thank you for your extraordinary patience.”

From this close, Ian got to actually feel the affect this words had on his boyfriend and watch as his cheeks flushed and pupils dilated sightly. “Yeah,” Mickey nodded, nonchalant like his voice didn’t pitch up a couple octaves. “Yeah, I mean you can do that, if you want.”

Smiling, Ian ran a hand up his back so that he could lead Mickey back through the doorway by the back of his head, rubbing and rocking it lightly, stomach flipping in excitement.  

Believe me - I will be revisiting museum security guard mickey again, taking down heists, helping lost kids, and knowing where all the major pieces are so when wimpy little art students like me come in looking for specific pieces he can give directions -the possibilities are endless.

link to AO3