#I’m so tired I might delete this when I can sleep today

[dont-blame-it-on-the-kids]

🫡 thank you for your service white tank top

[saetoshi]

reo is obsessed with sending you pictures of himself.

he sends you pictures for everything he does. from the very moment he wakes up to the moment he goes to sleep. it’s like he lives for it.

it was cute at first, but when your camera roll consists of rows and rows of images of the same shade of purple and varying backgrounds, it gets exhausting.

“don’t you ever get tired?” you yawn.

there’s a beat of silence. “of what?”

“of sending me pictures of your face every time you breathe.”

“why would i?” he grins, “i’ve been told i’m quite pretty.”

you give him a look through your screen. he simply laughs before scooping up a bite of veggies with his chopsticks.

“why?” he playfully glares at you, “got a problem with that?”

“no,” you sigh, “but i might grow sick of seeing your face spreading across my camera roll.”

he lets out an offended gasp, “excuse me?!”

you hum, “it’s like a disease.”

“what?!”

you burst out laughing at his reaction, tears pooling in your eyes. he glares at you, aggressively pointing his chopsticks at you through the screen.

“i’ll have you know,” he pouts, “i send you the best pictures of myself!”

“yeah?” you wipe your eyes, “so that one time you sent me that picture of you crying after you stubbed your toe was the best one you could send?”

a blush spreads through his cheeks. “i wasn’t thinking straight.”

“‘course not.”

he grabs another bite of stir-fried veggies, “i hope you’ve deleted it by now.”

“what do you take me for?” you cheekily smile at him, “it’s my wallpaper.” (it’s also your favorite picture of him ever.)

“i hate you.”

you stick your tongue out at him. “stop sending me so many pictures of your face then.”

he hums, “i don’t hate you that much.”

you drum your fingers against your desk. “you’re just obsessed with seeing your face aren’t you?”

he scoffs through a bite. “so obsessed.”

“i bet you’re checking yourself out through the camera as we speak.”

there’s a pause. your eyes widen when you see his cheeks slowly turn red.

“are you?”

he buries his face in his hands. “shut up.”

“reo!” you gasp in disbelief.

he lets out an embarrassingly high pitched squeal. “shut up!”

he sneaks a peek at you through his fingers. you snicker at him.

“why’re you getting shy on me now?” your voice is laced with mirth.

“i’m going to hang up on you.” you can practically hear the pout on his lips.

“no!” a laugh slips past your lips, “i’m sorry.”

“if you’re really sorry,” he lowers his hands from his face, pout on full display, “you’ll let me keep sending you pictures of me.”

“i take it back, i’m not sorry.”

he frowns, “do you really hate my pictures that much?”

“i never said i hated them,” you start, voice gentle, “i just don’t like having them taking up half of my camera roll.”

reo hums, slowly nodding in acknowledgement.

“plus,” you offer him a cheeky smile, “i’d much rather see it in person.”

a small, satisfied grin spreads through his lips, “you’re such a flatterer.”

“but, since you insist,” he sighs, “i suppose i could let you see me in person today.”

“you suppose?”

“you’ve been mean to me throughout most of this call,” he clicks his tongue, “if anything i’m being too nice to you.”

he lets out a soft sigh, gently shaking his head.

“anyway, just hurry up and get ready,” he smiles, “i’ll be at your place in an hour to pick you up.”

you perk up. “where are we going?”

“that’s for me to know and you to find out.”

you roll your eyes. he sticks his tongue out at you before quickly saying ‘see you soon,’ blows you a quick kiss goodbye, and hangs up.

you lazily get up from your desk, groaning as you stretch your arms.

you’re left looking forward to your date with reo, and the (not so) small hope that he won’t stop sending you pictures of himself. (even if it means you’ll have to figure what to get rid of in order to free up space on your phone for them.)

(you’ll never tell him that, though.)

[onestopfanficshop]

Take The Lead

carmen x f!reader

word count: 1.55k

warnings/author's note: mdni! unprotected p in v sex (y'all better wrap it irl), creampie, light teasing, established relationship. this is literally my first time writing smut of any kind and i am SCARED this could literally be complete hot dog water i hope it isn't and i lowkey might delete it okay enough rambling enjoy

gif isn't mine!

You hear the lock to your apartment click quietly, and the door hinges creak slightly as the door opens. The sound of non-slip shoe soles and heavy coat fabric fills your tired ears as you recognize the familiar sound of your boyfriend coming home. He pads over to the sofa where you’re lying with your eyes still closed, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and tilts his head as he watches you breathe softly for a few seconds.

“Carmy,” you mumble, making him flinch slightly. He had no idea you had been awake. “Staring at me while I'm half-asleep isn’t a proper way to say hello, y’know.”

You push yourself up to a sitting position on the sofa, blinking your eyes to adjust to brightness of your TV screen. The baking competition show you had put on hours ago was still running. You zone out for a second, staring at one of the contestants frosting a chocolate cake. Carmy’s eyes follow yours, and he furrows his brows after a second.

“That cake looks really fuckin' dry,” he says, folding his arms and looking back at you. You take him in, noting his disheveled hair and red, sunken eyes. Your gaze softens, and you pat the spot next to you on the sofa to motion him to sit down. He plops down next to you, throwing his head back and sighing loudly. You lean over and let your head rest on his shoulder.

“Long day?” you ask, playing with the fingers on his left hand. You pay extra attention to a gold signet ring you’d given him on his birthday that sat on his middle finger. Except for when he cooked, he had rarely taken it off since.

“Yeah, um… yeah. Really long,” he exhaled. “We, uh… started doing to-gos today,” he explained, looking at you.

You grimaced. You knew that he’d been nervous about it for days now, and from what you can tell, it hadn’t gone that well. “How was it?” you asked gently.

“It was… a completely and utter shitshow. God, babe, we were so fucked. I—” he paused, raking a hand through his hair haphazardly. “I raised my voice. I yelled. More than once,” he admits with a defeated shrug.

“I bet it was stressful, hon; don’t beat yourself up over it. You made it through, at least. I’m really proud of you, Carmy,” you say, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah?” he says, giving you a small smile. “Jesus, I’m just glad that shit’s over. I’m so goddamn tired. And I missed you. I need you,” he says, whispering the last sentence. Your heart jumps in response.

“You missed me?” you asked coyly.

“Always. Only thing I could think about was coming home to you. So I could do this…” he trails off, burying his nose into the crook of your neck. He plants a kiss on the skin where your neck and shoulder met, eliciting a sharp inhale from you.

“Carmy… you’re tired, you should— you should really go to sleep,” you struggle to say as he kisses the upper part of your neck.

“Shit, you’re right,” he mutters. “You’ll make it quick, yeah?”

You try to hide your grin. It was like this most nights. Carmy, usually too tired from his shifts, loved it when you were in control. You climbed over him on the sofa to straddle his spread knees, clasping your hands behind his neck and pulling his forehead into yours. You dipped down to plant a sweet kiss to his lips, but Carmy tightened his grip on your hips, willing you to deepen the kiss. Your hands left his neck in favor of playing with his hair, paying special attention to the hairs at the nape of his neck. One of your hands moves down to palm between his legs, causing him to moan.

“Baby, I dunno how long I’ll last. I’m so fuckin’— so fuckin’ tired,” he admits, murmmering against your lips.

“It’s okay, Carmy,” you breathe, the syllables of his name sickly sweet on your tongue. He groaned low in his throat. He fucking loved it when you said his name like that. He reached down underneath you to pull off his pants and boxers, noting the way your breath hitched when his hand brushed against your clothed sensitive spot.

“Did that feel good?” he asks, taunting you. You nod your head blissfully in response, and he bites back a smile.

“Yeah? Take ‘em off,” he says, tugging at the waistband of your shorts. You waste no time lifting yourself off his lap, pulling your shorts down, and tossing them off, not caring where they landed. His ringed middle finger hooks under the crotch of your underwear, and he flicks his calloused thumb over your clit. You give a ragged gasp, bracing your palms on his chest.

“Carmy—,” you whine.

“Hmm?” he replies, acting completely oblivious to the effect he was having on you.

“I thought— I thought this was supposed to be quick,” you breathed. He slips two fingers inside you and speeds up the pace at which he was playing with your clit, causing your face to crumple with pleasure.

“I know, baby. M’still gonna take care of you, though,” he said huskily. With his thumb still working your clit, he picks up the pace, angling his fingers to hit the spot inside of you that made you lose all your senses.

“Fuck, Carmy,” whisper out in a high pitched whine. Your fingernails dig into his muscular arms, and you throw your head back and shut your eyes in anticipation, feeling the knot in your stomach stretch tighter and tighter like a rubber band. You feel two fingers grab your jaw and tilt your face down.

“Look at me, honey, look at me,” Carmy whispers, his eyes roaming over your face. He takes in the sight of you— chest heaving, forehead glistening, jaw slack with pleasure— and makes a mental picture for later.

“Carm, I’m gonna- I’m so… so close,” you whisper frantically. You feel the band inside of you snap, and you dig your fingers even deeper into his skin as your eyes loll back and you reach your peak. Carmy’s name is the only word on your lips as your legs tremble while you ride out the aftershocks of your high. His fingers slow to a stop inside of you, and he tilts his head to the side, shooting you a lazy smile.

“Don’t tell me you’re all fucked out already,” he muses. “Are you?”

“No,” you say, knitting your eyebrows in defiance. “Absolutely not,” you add, running a hand up his hardened shaft as if to prove your point.

“Christ,” he says through his teeth. He reflexively throws his head back, causing you to smirk. You pump him a few times before you line his dick up to your entrance and slowly sink down.

“Oh, shit” Carmy hisses, watching his cock disappear into you. “You’re so- oh God, fuck,” he breathes. Both of his hands shoot up to grab your tits as he watched you ride him.

“You like seeing that dick slide in n’ outta ya, hmm?” he whispers. His words shoot straight down to your pussy, creating a familiar ache. You bite down hard on your bottom lip.

"Carmy," you breathe. "If you make me come again, I just might have to stop. You don't want me to stop, do you?" you finish, your tone deceptively sweet. You watch as his eyes shifts to something darker, more needy.

"No, don't— don't fuckin' stop," Carmy says through gritted teeth. He can feel your walls hugging him tighter and tighter, bringing him closer and closer to his peak. Carmy swears right then and there in that moment that you were made just for him. He digs his fingers deep into the flesh of your hips, and uses the strength in his arms to slam you down harder onto him, causing a strangled gasp to escape your lips.

"Fuck, Carm," you whine. "Are you close?"

Your question's answered seconds later when you feel his hot release into your core. You slow down to a stop, resting your palms on his chest as you both catch your breaths. Carmy gazes at you with heavy-lidded, lust blown eyes, and the sight makes you smile. You loved how he became completely and utterly undone by your touch.

"You made a fuckin' mess of yourself. Just look at the couch," Carmy teases, running his hands up and down the sides of your waist.

"I made a mess? You're the one who came in me," you shoot back, poking an accusatory finger into his chest. "And how are you gonna tease me while you're literally still inside me?" you say, fighting back a smile.

Carmy looked down between the two of you where you were still connected, then looked back at you, feigning surprise. "Shit. You might have a point, hon," he says, grinning lazily.

"Let's clean up, okay?" you giggle. "And then after that, we need to sleep. You need to sleep. Deal?" you continue, smoothing the hair from his face and holding his face in both of your hands.

He leans in to rest his forehead on yours, planting a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. "Deal."

[gav1whore9]

Omg this was actually a request for a cock warming smut but I accidentally deleted it so I’m very sorry but here it is.

(Also the Spanish part of the story is from Google translator so I’m sorry if I get anything wrong)

I also wanna say that I haven’t been aktiv since school just started but I will give my best and continue writing for our boyfriend😉. Enjoy 💕🧚🏼‍♂️

gavi was at an event today but i didn't really want to go plus I had to prepare a few things for work so i stayed at home

actually i had planned to stay awake and wait for gavi to come home so i laid down on the couch and continued watching my series. because of all the work and the stress i fell asleep on the couch after a while, it was around midnight so i gave up hope that gavi is still coming . i thought that he was too drunk to drive and that he is sleeping over at pedris (wouldn’t be the first time) and that was my last thought before I fell asleep.

Gavis pov:

It was around 1 in the morning when I came back home I didn’t actually planned on staying that long but the team wouldn’t let me leave. I fell a little bad though because I let y/n stay at home the whole night she was probably asleep already. Even though I’ve been with my team the whole night I just couldn’t stop thinking about her at after a bit I got really horny and that just by the thought of her so I was kind of hoping that she I still awake

Y/ns pov:

It was like an hour later when I heard the sound of keys at our apartment door but I immediately knew that it was him but I didn’t stand up I just pretended like I was still asleep and then I heard him come into our room, the first thing he said was “oh, mi niña bonita, siento mucho que hayas esperado tanto„

I wanted to answer because that was so cute but something said to me to just keep pretending like I was sleeping. After that I could hear that he started to undress him self since he was still wearing his outside clothes, but then he said something that shocked me and made me wish I wasn’t this tired

“you don't know how much i wished you were still awake my thoughts were with you the whole time, your body and the way you scream my name while i fuck you”

I can not wait for tomorrow because then I will give him what he was craving for this whole night

As he laid in bad with me he kissed me in the head I could feel his hard cock against my ass though. but then he pulled me even closer to him and I moaned on accident

“bonita, lo siento mucho, no quise despertarte„

“it’s okay Pablo I don’t mind, you know if it would help you sleep better you can put it in me„

He turned me around so he could look at me

“You mean like cock warming?”

“Yeah pablito but only if you want and with the rest I will help you tomorrow”

Of course hermosa you don’t even know I’m so hard for you that it’s starting to hurt”

“I know Pablo now just put it in in might help a little”

I only had a long tshirt and panties on I didn't have a bra

I then pulled down his boxers when his dick sprung up and hit his stomach.

I took my panties of and slid down on his dick

“Ahh shit hermosa i love you so much”

“I love you to bonito good night”

It felt so good having him inside of me I could fell his pulse in side of my pussy

Pablo sighed so few Times and then It didn’t took us long till we both had fallen asleep

[x3kristax3]

Eternal Love

A/N: here is your warning to be ready for the tears!

Chapter 1

I’m standing the spot he told me to be, today is six months since Hannah was found and we found out the truth about Richy. I've kept in touch with the gang but it's been different since Hannah was found expect with Jessy and Dan. 

I saw him in Duskwood but between the FBI, Hannah and Lilly we didn’t have much time alone. I knew that was going to happen. He stopped by my apartment three months ago and spent the night. We were curled up on my bed watching movies cuddling all night. I woke up to us tangled together and he took my breath away while he was still sleeping. I knew sleep wasn’t a luxury for him so the fact he felt safe enough with me to fall asleep even if it was just a little bit was all I needed to know our souls were interlocked.

I’m outside a motel, nothing fancy but it's where he told me to stand and wait for him. I’m looking at my phone but nothing new is coming through. I’m so focused I don’t realize someone came up until they wrap their arm around my waist. I fight until whoever is trying to take me until I hear his voice in my ear.

“It’s me, my love,” his voice soothes me like no other and I spin around looking into those ocean blue eyes full of love. I want to kiss him but he is wearing his mask so I nuzzle into his shoulder as I pull myself closer to him.

He grabs my hand and takes me inside the motel I had been standing outside of. He takes me to a room and unlocks it and I see this is where he’s been staying at last for a couple days and my heart breaks. His bags are always ready to go but he decided to let me see this side of him finally. He pulls me towards the bed and kisses me. I melt into his arms not wanting to break this kiss. I put my hands on his arms not wanting to let him go as I know every time with him is limited. We are so into the kiss that both jump when he computer goes off and he pulls away. He looks at his computer and it shows his pursuers location and I realize this might be even shorter than I expected it to be tonight. I sit on the bed and sigh.

“MC, I don’t have to leave yet” he grabs my face. “They are just close but not that close that I can’t spend a night with you.”

“Will you sleep tonight?” I ask as now I see the dark circles under his eyes and how tired he is.

He leans into me and whispers in my ear “ i don't think either of us will sleep tonight.’ he turns my head so my eyes are looking into his and my body melts. We kiss deep again and he lays me back on the bed.

As we lay in bed afterwards, I run my fingers along scars and he kisses me softly. I can see he’s tired but I know he won’t sleep with them being so close. He puts the TV on and I curl into him. My head on his chest not wanting to let him go, afraid of when I’ll see him again if I do. I feel my eyes getting heavy and I fall asleep.

I wake up to the sun coming in through the window which is weird because I remember them being closed last night. I sit up and see his stuff is all gone and my heart breaks. I feel the tears falling down my face but this is part of loving him.

I see a note on the nightstand by my phone.

MC,

I will always love you but I had to run. As you were sleeping they got even closer. This isn’t the life I wanted for you. While I love you with all my heart, please don’t wait anymore for me. Please move on with your life.

Jake

I look at my phone and see our last text message and my heart breaks because he deleted where to meet him so it's him telling me he loves me and will always be there. I want to text him but decide not to and I get dressed. I see the key for the room on the desk and I sigh. I hope the room is at least paid for. I head down and check out for him, thankfully it was paid for and head out to my car. As I get to my car I see the FBI and I sigh. I head back to Duskwood even though I have no idea why. I would rather go looking for him but I have no idea where to even start.

I pull up in front of the house I found and break down crying right in the car. I never expect him to do this to me. I knew what I was getting into but my heart loves him. My phone goes off and after I stop crying I look at it. 

Jake: Please don't be upset with me. I had to do this for your safety. I hope you got out before they showed up. I will always love you.

I don't answer him but I head into the house and Jessy is there taking care of my dog. She sees the tears on my face but instead of saying anything she just hugs me and I fall to pieces.

"It's gonna be okay. You will see him again and forget all about how it hurts when hea leaves," her voice is soothing but she doesn't know the reason for the tears.

I shake my head and head to my bedroom and curl up under the blanket with my dog and sob. I hear the front door open and I know she is leaving me alone. I  can't admit the truth to anyone right now.

[lovries]

LOVRIES 500 FOLLOWERS EVENT

How to participate / Rules

Send in a character (lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor, diavolo, barbatos, simeon, solomon).

And then choose up to two prompts below! (prompt credits: here, here, here, and here).

example: "Hi! May I have [character] with [fluff/angst] prompt [#]? Thank you!"

Also (optional) you can add any other notes to your request, such as specific au, trope, etc. I'll try to incorporate as much of your request into the writing as I can!

Remember to follow the basic rules of this blog, and to be kind and respectful as I work on this event! I'll only be accepting the first twenty to come, after that I won't be accepting anymore and any sent after will be deleted.

content warning, some prompts include: children, marriage, illness, cheating, general angst.

FLUFF/DOMESTIC PROMPTS

"Do I smell breakfast or is that the house burning down?"

"Honey, you look tired. Go sleep."

"So I was driving past a pet store the other day and couldn't help but wonder how cute an animal would be like in our home."

"I want to move in with you."

"Our son/daughter got sent to the principals office today."

"Babe, can you explain to me what this is doing here?"

"You look like you could use a massage."

"I want to take a shower so you should probably join me. It'll save water."

"I may have broken the dish washer."

"There's a spider in the shower!"

"I want to adopt a child."

"Think about it. The little patter of children in our home."

"I want to marry you."

"What do you think about this color wall for our room?"

"Why is the bathroom overfilling with water?"

"Did you eat all my oreos?"

"We live together. You can't blame this on anyone else."

"I've got a romantic surprise for you."

"Let's just stay in bed."

"Get back into bed."

"Can you call in sick today?"

"I just want to lie here all day with you."

"Oh, there's no need to put a shirt on."

"I'm sick of doing all the chores!"

"We can't afford this!"

"Don't mind me, just want to remember how beautiful you look in bed this morning."

"Your heartbeat’s really loud."

"You asleep?"

"I like this, being so close to you."

"Your hair keeps falling into your eyes, do you know that? Here, lemme just—"

"You’re so, so, so pretty."

"I just — I’m breathless, okay? Whenever I’m with you, it happens."

"You make my heart beat so quick."

"You always know how to make me smile."

"You’ll always be safe with me."

"I can’t imagine being anywhere but here with you."

"All my choices lead me to you."

"I’ll never give you up."

"I sleep better if you’re around."

"You snore in your sleep. But… it’s adorable, okay?"

"I like this. A quiet breakfast with you."

"There’re billions of people on this planet, and I love you. How incredible is that?"

"I trust you."

"You keep staring at me instead of watching the film. What’s up?"

"Let’s push all of these stuff away. I wanna dance here right now with you."

"Are we really doing this? Are we really slow-dancing?"

"When you laugh like that, it just — you’re so beautiful, you know that?"

"You haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like."

"I will never let you go."

"You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me."

"You’ve got a fever. Of course I’m not going anywhere."

"I just feel calmer. When I’m with you."

"You’re not in bed. I came looking for you."

"What are you doing up? Come to bed."

"It’s weird. I never thought I could feel like this, but you showed up. Now, it’s like I don’t wanna go on knowing I might lose the feeling."

"I don’t mind sharing the blankets with you."

"You’re cold. Come here."

"You always do that. You always warm me up."

"Stay."

"It’s getting crowded. Here, hold my hand."

"I’m so proud of you, you know that?"

ANGST PROMPTS

"I really, really hate you!"

"You mean nothing to me anymore."

"I don't trust you. Not anymore!"

"You disgust me."

"How can I believe you after everything you've done?"

"I should've known better than to trust a liar!"

"Do not touch me!"

"Get away from me!"  

"Touch me and it'll be the last thing you do!"  

"Just please shut up. I'm done with your excuses!"

"How long have you been cheating on me?"

"You know what? I'm done. I'm just done!"

"There's this new side of you and I don't like it!"

"I can't believe this is happening!"

"After all we've been through, you're just going to leave?"  

"Just pack up your things and leave!"

"Go on! Leave like you always leave!"

"When I look at you, I no longer see the person I fell in love with!"

"You really haven't changed huh?"

"So you're just going to leave?"

"It’s over between us. We are over!"

"Get away from me! I can’t even look at you right now."

"Please, look at me! Why won’t you even look at me?!"

"Wh-why did you do this?"

"How do you sleep at night, after all you’ve done?"

"You… You never really cared at all, did you?"

"That’s it then? you’re giving up, just like that?"

"Yeah, I’m a bastard. Tell me something I don’t know."

"You say you don’t love them, but you keep helping them. Why?"

"It doesn’t matter how much I try! They’re going to hate me anyway."

"How cute, you actually thought anyone cared?"

"What can I do to make it up to you?"

"It’s too late to fix it now!"

"You can’t just show up again and act like nothing’s wrong!"

"It’s not like we’re friends or anything, right?"

"We’re not friends, we never were."

"Goddamn it, I hate you so much! Just fuck off already!"

[babeczka415]

Eternal Love

Chapter 1

I’m standing the spot he told me to be, today is six months since Hannah was found and we found out the truth about Richy. I've kept in touch with the gang but it's been different since Hannah was found expect with Jessy and Dan. 

I saw him in Duskwood but between the FBI, Hannah and Lilly we didn’t have much time alone. I knew that was going to happen. He stopped by my apartment three months ago and spent the night. We were curled up on my bed watching movies cuddling all night. I woke up to us tangled together and he took my breath away while he was still sleeping. I knew sleep wasn’t a luxury for him so the fact he felt safe enough with me to fall asleep even if it was just a little bit was all I needed to know our souls were interlocked.

I’m outside a motel, nothing fancy but it's where he told me to stand and wait for him. I’m looking at my phone but nothing new is coming through. I’m so focused I don’t realize someone came up until they wrap their arm around my waist. I fight until whoever is trying to take me until I hear his voice in my ear.

“It’s me, my love,” his voice soothes me like no other and I spin around looking into those ocean blue eyes full of love. I want to kiss him but he is wearing his mask so I nuzzle into his shoulder as I pull myself closer to him.

He grabs my hand and takes me inside the motel I had been standing outside of. He takes me to a room and unlocks it and I see this is where he’s been staying at last for a couple days and my heart breaks. His bags are always ready to go but he decided to let me see this side of him finally. He pulls me towards the bed and kisses me. I melt into his arms not wanting to break this kiss. I put my hands on his arms not wanting to let him go as I know every time with him is limited. We are so into the kiss that both jump when he computer goes off and he pulls away. He looks at his computer and it shows his pursuers location and I realize this might be even shorter than I expected it to be tonight. I sit on the bed and sigh.

“MC, I don’t have to leave yet” he grabs my face. “They are just close but not that close that I can’t spend a night with you.”

“Will you sleep tonight?” I ask as now I see the dark circles under his eyes and how tired he is.

He leans into me and whispers in my ear “ i don't think either of us will sleep tonight.’ he turns my head so my eyes are looking into his and my body melts. We kiss deep again and he lays me back on the bed.

As we lay in bed afterwards, I run my fingers along scars and he kisses me softly. I can see he’s tired but I know he won’t sleep with them being so close. He puts the TV on and I curl into him. My head on his chest not wanting to let him go, afraid of when I’ll see him again if I do. I feel my eyes getting heavy and I fall asleep.

I wake up to the sun coming in through the window which is weird because I remember them being closed last night. I sit up and see his stuff is all gone and my heart breaks. I feel the tears falling down my face but this is part of loving him.

I see a note on the nightstand by my phone.

MC,

I will always love you but I had to run. As you were sleeping they got even closer. This isn’t the life I wanted for you. While I love you with all my heart, please don’t wait anymore for me. Please move on with your life.

Jake

I look at my phone and see our last text message and my heart breaks because he deleted where to meet him so it's him telling me he loves me and will always be there. I want to text him but decide not to and I get dressed. I see the key for the room on the desk and I sigh. I hope the room is at least paid for. I head down and check out for him, thankfully it was paid for and head out to my car. As I get to my car I see the FBI and I sigh. I head back to Duskwood even though I have no idea why. I would rather go looking for him but I have no idea where to even start.

I pull up in front of the house I found and break down crying right in the car. I never expect him to do this to me. I knew what I was getting into but my heart loves him. My phone goes off and after I stop crying I look at it. 

Jake: Please don't be upset with me. I had to do this for your safety. I hope you got out before they showed up. I will always love you.

I don't answer him but I head into the house and Jessy is there taking care of my dog. She sees the tears on my face but instead of saying anything she just hugs me and I fall to pieces.

"It's gonna be okay. You will see him again and forget all about how it hurts when hea leaves," her voice is soothing but she doesn't know the reason for the tears.

I shake my head and head to my bedroom and curl up under the blanket with my dog and sob. I hear the front door open and I know she is leaving me alone. I  can't admit the truth to anyone right now.

[yandecifi]

In a Way That Matters

bakugo/reader

~1000ish words

cw: derealization + depersonalization

idk made this one shot a bit ago bc felt dpdr wasn’t rlly anywhere and I very much use fanfic, reading, and writing to vent/cope/whatever so idk maybe some other ppl will relate and feel less bad?? might delete this later lol bc idk how tumblr works¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Shakespeare once said: “To be, or not to be, that is the question.”

That is, in fact, the question. That has been the question since it happened. Are you, or are you not? Are you awake, or are you not? Are you alive, or are you not? Are you in a coma, in a hospital, unable to wake up, dying, dreaming, sleeping, something, or are you not?

You have been on pause since it happened. Stuck. Time, life, the you that is not you has progressed without… you. What is you? Who is you? When is you? You are living through memories while at the same time realizing that you have no memories at all. You are alive but you are dead. You are here but you are not.

Bakugo shifts in his seat and asks if you’re there. You pull yourself to the present, whatever that is, and say yeah, sorry, bit spacy today, kinda tired, nice day, isn’t it?

He stares at you. He stares at you with the same look people give when they want to ask you about it, but aren’t sure where to start because what?

Is it happening again?

Is what happening again?

The thing, he responds, crossing his arms. In truth, you knew what he meant. You just wanted to hear somebody else say it for once.

Your eyes and hands find their way to your drink. You fiddle with the straw as you find your answer.

It’s always happening, is what you come up with.

Bakugo doesn’t respond directly. He never does, not really, the way his thoughts connect to his words is about as smooth and straight as his hair. This time, his response is a grunt just loud enough to let you know you’ve been heard. His arms are still crossed as he stares at the hand twisting your straw. You wish he would be as open as you force yourself to be.

Always, he states, though you guess he meant it as a question.

Yeah.

Y’know why?

Nah.

The silence after is one you’re familiar with. He’s probably thinking, I don’t get it, what do you mean it’s all the time, are you crazy, what even is it -

What’s it like?

You squeeze the neck of the straw between your fingers. Both of you are still focused on it, on the plastic tube you’ve been crushing and bending and rolling about, like a silent agreement to not make eye contact. Maybe it’s a way to make him feel less like he’s asking personal questions. Maybe it’s a way for you to feel less naked.

Sorta thing you don’t get unless you’ve experienced it, you say, but that doesn’t feel quite right so you tack on some stuff about dreams and weed and stuff, you know?

The way his eyes squint at the cup shows he doesn’t. You hurry to fix your description.

Like, okay, you say, pausing to flex your hands, watching the tendons writhe beneath your skin. It’s like nothing’s real. Like, imagine someone’s strapped VR goggles to your head and you’re trying to make your way through the place you’re seeing, but it doesn’t exist, so, like, you’re blind but you can see at the same time. Everything’s weird - there’s this sort of disconnect. There’s this gap between you and what you’re feeling. Y’can’t think straight, either, everything’s always foggy and, oh, that’s right, your memory’s shit too. Sometimes I think I’m getting dementia. Or that I’m schizophrenic. But I’m not, I’m not crazy or anything, so don’t worry. Not that you are, or anything. I’m just - I’m not crazy. I’m not. Okay?

Bakugo nods slowly, says yeah, but they always do that. They just nod along or agree with some monosyllable, they don’t - no, they can’t say it, they can’t say: no, you’re not crazy, you don’t sound crazy. Because you do, don’t you? To someone who doesn’t understand.

You’ve stopped fiddling with the straw, instead preferring to work a massage into the palm of your hand. Bakugo has sunk lower into his seat. His arms are still crossed as he stares at the crinkly tube.

He thinks you’re crazy. He does, doesn’t he? He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t have to say it - you can see it. You can see it in the way he won’t meet your eyes. You can see it in the crease of his brows, how they’re pinched together like they are when he’s taking an exam, trying to find the answer to some impossible question, you can see it in the way his adam’s apple bobs up and down, swallowing like he’s nervous, he’s nervous, he’s nervous, too. People always get nervous when you talk about it. They’re like, I had no idea, I didn’t know this about you, what else is she hiding, and then they treat you like a stranger because they feel like you’re one, you’re strange, you’re strange to them. You’ve become strange. He thinks you’re strange.

Bakugo, you say, though it comes out more of a mumble. He finally looks you in the eye again. He’s finally looking at you. God, he’s finally looking at you. Look at me, look at me, show I’m real. I’m real, right? He’s looking, right? Your head swims like TV static. Can static swim? Can heads?

Bakugo asks you what you were going to say. You shake your head. You blink. You blink again. Hey, he says, what were you going to say, but you don’t hear his voice, you can’t hear it, your brain can but you can’t.

Your vision’s like one of those old film reels - clack, you’re looking at his face that isn’t really a face anymore, clack, you’re looking at your hands, you can’t see the writhing anymore, clack, you look up, Bakugo’s gone.

Where is he, where is he, there’s a guy that looks like him next to you. He’s leaning down, about to sit in the cafe booth next to you, speaking words you understand yet can’t seem to hear.

It’s not Bakugo, though. He looks the same, but something inside screams he’s alien, he’s not him. But, that’s just how it is when it’s bad, isn’t it. People become objects, objects become people, and you become nothing.

Yeah, you’re fine.

Yeah, everything’s okay.

No, there’s nothing he can do.

No, you don’t need to go home.

You’re responding to questions you don’t even know are being asked. He’s holding your hand. You don’t know when his fingers first clenched around your hand, how long it’s been clenched around your fingers.

It’s bad, isn’t it, Bakugo.

It is. What is it?

You already said. He tried, he tried, didn’t he? Why keep asking? Why?

He wants you to know, he doesn’t want you to be alone.

You are alone, doesn’t he get it, you don’t want to be either, but he keeps asking and it’s so hard, Bakugo, it’s so hard. Stop asking. You can tell him what it’s like, hours, you can tell him what it’s like for hours but he will never know, he will never know what it is, he will never understand, it doesn’t matter how much you want him to, it doesn’t matter what he thinks, none of it matters.

You will never be able to explain this in a way that matters.

You tell him, that strange, invisible cushion wrapped around your head, that invisible cotton stuffed to the brim of your ears, that hand wrapped around yours.

[la-principessa-nuova]

So, I don’t know how it happened, but I ended up staying up all night. Honestly, my sleep schedule has not been good for more than a few days at a time since my egg cracked.

I was getting ready to read and go to bed on time, when suddenly I remembered that I’d been meaning to look up how to cover stubble with makeup since my last few attempts to wing it were unsuccessful. So I looked it up, and that made me want to try it.

So then I didn’t and it looked great, but then I didn’t want to just put it on and take it right off, so I decided to go upstairs and play a game. I’ve always recorded my playthroughs of games with the intention of maybe releasing it and never do, so I started using this as an excuse for voice feminization practice, just getting used to speaking at length in that voice.

I played for an hour and a half and decided to head downstairs to bed. But then I was thinking about things some more and I decided I wanted to record a video for posterity’s sake, going over everything so far and where I was at in terms of understanding my identity and what future steps I wanted to take to affirm it and when.

This is ended up being a much longer task than I thought, and there were so many things I wanted to vent about that suddenly my phone died at 4 AM. But I wanted to wrap up the video and say a couple more things I was planning on getting to, so after my phone was back on, I wrapped it up, which ended up taking me until just after 5.

Then I needed to move to videos off my phone to the location I’m storing all of my trans progress photos and stuff while I’m in the closet, but normally I move photos, whereas this was multiple hours or 4K60 video. So now it’s 6:30 and I’m still waiting for the files to transfer so I can delete the originals and go to bed, but I’m now on the fence whether it is better to go to sleep and sleep all day, or given that I’m off from work today, just be tired and feel bad all day and get on a better sleep schedule tomorrow.

Downside is I’m not able to stay up and feel mostly fine anymore like I did in college, so it will be a rough day with very poor focus, jitteriness, and possibly heartburn. The upside is that I will start the day in girl mode and it might be my first day fully in girl mode depending on whether I have to go outside at all.

Also I’m toying with the idea of my newname being either Alice or Lily. I was on the fence about changing it at all because my original name is allegedly gender neutral, but I’ve only heard it used for men, and it was a top 10 male name in my year of birth but not a top 1,000 female name. It feels masculine to me, but I also don’t hate it or anything.

The other day I practiced signatures for several ideas I had for a newname, and the two clear frontrunners were Alice and Lily. I really like both names, and it’s hard to pick which one. I am currently leaning more towards Alice because I feel like I identify with it more, but I think Lily might be the better name in general. I like that it can be shortened to Lil in speech better than Al, and I like how swoopy and curly it would be in my signature. But Alice feels more like me.

Anyway, this is sort of just a wall of text as I unload everything and kill time waiting for my files to transfer, so I’m just not gonna tag it.

I still have time to kill, so I’ll talk about one thing that’s been on my mind, which is all the questioning and doubt that still comes up around my identity. To be clear, I experience clear dysphoria around my maleness and clear euphoria around my femaleness that makes me overall confident that I am a trans woman, but every now and then I get these impulses of doubt, where it feels like I’ve woken up from a dream, and I see the man under the makeup and the wig and I feel like, “What the **** am I doing? I need to stop this and go back to my normal life.” And then I realize that yes, I see the man’s body under this stuff, but then why does the body feel less like me than the wig and the makeup?

And then sometimes I judge my masculine (or even non-feminine) traits too harshly, like surely this one trait being more in line with men than women means I must be nonbinary, or maybe I’m just a bit more feminine of a guy. But then I remember how many cis women I know with the same trait. Not every woman is the paragon of femininity, and I don’t need to be either.

Suddenly the tiredness is overwhelming. I will need a nap at the very least. Good night? Or maybe good morning? Hopefully this is intelligible because I am way too tired to proofread this.

[cuntcareless]

Big sad diary

14/06 - 4 days post breakup

16:10 - did sleep last night for the first time. Strangely it was in our bed. Haven’t cried yet today. First time and 4 days after. However big wave of sad has hit again. Still haven’t actually eaten.

18:12 - ate some chilli. Trying to no cry. Want to go home and for you to be waiting for me.

19:02 - cried all the way home.

21:27 - half way between wanting you back and wanting hot girl summer x

23:59 - I hate you how could you do this to me.

15/06 - day 5

7:34 - very tired

14:02 - haven’t cried, don’t feel like crying. Still sad but very much less sad, being dragged to brunch on Saturday and garnett is coming to see me. Still haven’t heard from jack.

15:01 - and now I’m straight back to missing you. I know I probably need to eat something because I feel very weak, I must eat tea tonight.

15:39 - we can sort this out man

22:24 - felt fine. But now I’ve text you and you haven’t text back. I feel like shit.

16/06 day 6

13:01 - I text you last night to told you Lauren and gaz don’t want the house and to not wait. But you still haven’t replied. Why are you stalling. If this is what you want you need to cut me free.

15:56 - just come home we can work this out

17/06 day 7

23:27 - we spoke on the phone yesterday. You sent the message to the estate agent. Today I felt less sad, I’ve eaten 3 meals.

We spoke again today on the phone. It was normal and adult and nice dare I say.

Jess wants to hot girl summer too but I don’t think she should. But I want her to.

Went to Lilly’s mum and dads. Felt fine. Felt like I had closure.

Had some wine and started to miss you. Or did I miss having someone to come home to. Text you when I got out of the taxi. Accidentally left the light on in the bedroom so thought you might be there. But I knew that if you was. You would have been in bed with the light off.

Oh god. I’m done with the waves now.

19/06 day 9.

7:58 - Went to brunch yesterday. I did feel better. But then I felt sad again. I don’t want to start all over again.

Haven’t texted you. I managed to leave it and not text you when I was drunk. I did put

Some pictures up of me feeling my self, but I wanted you to see them.

I’m at my mum and dads today and I don’t want to move back. I want you to come home.

20:32 - I archived my insta posts. And changed my profile picture and it fucked killed me to do it. But I couldn’t keep looking at us. At you. It hurts too much and fuck I think this is actually happening isn’t it.

22:24 - your dad care reacted my profile picture and I sobbed in the bath. You haven’t viewed my stories or liked my photos or been active on messenger for 10 hours. My heart actually hurts.

20/06 - day 10

00:28 it hurts.

21/06 - day 11

11:36 - I’m crying. I can’t do this. I need you to come home.

21:53 - I think I cried because I spoke to your dad. We spoke again today and it was pretty normal. I really don’t want you to hate me. Actually I don’t care if you hate me. I don’t want to hate you.

I will probably be ok. But it’s when I get late and you aren’t home and I have no one to talk to it kills me.

Day 13

00:34 - Parker must know because he has just liked my profile picture and tried to follow my private insta lol. Deleted him off Facebook and deleted the follow requested. He can fuck right off weirdo.

Oh and he also liked my instagra picture on my normal account

28 days after breakup: 1:44am

It’s been a while. I don’t know what to say to you most of the time to be honest. Most days for most of the day. I feel fine. And sometimes I don’t think about jack at all. My friends are always the best and trying to make me happy. And I am for the most part. But the other part feels like you’ve died. Nearly 6 years of my life have been about us. About jack. And I can’t sleep without him. It’s weird. I had a good weekend this weekend. Made so much progress. But I got sun burn on my back. And all night I have just been sad. Thinking about jack not being here to run after sun in my back. It’s warm. Too warm to sleep. And we used to stay up and chat shit. Or I used to chat shit to you. I mainly wonder what you are doing. If you think about me too. If you miss me. Wild.

Before you I couldn’t sleep and now after you I can’t sleep either. I think it was you that made me sleep.

Day 36: 22:31

It’s even warmer than last time. I had a great couple of days for Lauren’s grad. But you left the light on in the kitchen. And you told me to make sure to drink water whilst drinking in this heat. I took your advice. But you didn’t get me from the train station. And you never will again. I miss my jack. I miss being too hot to sleep and chatting shit.

I’ve got to move all my stuff and pack up and I don’t even know if I have the time or strength to do that. Why did you do this jack. Why.

I honestly never think anyone will accept me and love me for who I truly am.

I thought you did. But I guess you didn’t love me at all.

Day 42 -23:56

We had sex. Flipped a coin heads use our heads tails we get tail. We got tail. However not sure it was worth it for me. Dint regret it tho

Moved almost everything into my mum and dads house and have been cleaning the house.

Going to get some paint samples from b&q tomorrow hopefully can paint when the fam are on holiday.

Have a migraine but should be fine x

Day 45 - 22:39

We’ve nearly finished the house. Came home mum is wankered. She fell off the edge of the sofa and hit her head off the wall. Home sweet home.

Oh and we had sex again yesterday but not today. Sad I didn’t get to the finish the condoms.

68 days - 16/08 - 2:20

My parents hate me already. I thought I had done everything right. And it was going to be ok. I started smiling again. I started feeling ok. I was a car you would love, and it made me miss you I for the first time in forever.

My dad started screaming at Louis at 1am. And passively mentioned me. Now it’s 2am and I’m probably having a panic attack.

I really don’t know if I can do this without you. I don’t think I can do this at all. Do you think I would die if I jumped out of the window? I can’t do that.

It would traumatise Meredith.

Fuck. I hate my self. I hate it all.

[arandomnerdsrp358]

Kylo often imagined what he might say to his mother if he could. Beyond this even, there were times he typed it out. Of course he never sent them. He doubted she even used this old holo-mail address, but it wasn’t as though he would send it. Until he did— without any indication on his side it had gone through, somehow. He remained unaware that the message sent to Leia. Kylo set the data pad aside. The holo-mail read:

Today I apologized to Lieutenant Mitaka. You would be proud of that; it isn’t easy for me at all. But I never meant to hurt him. He’s an excellent comrade and we couldn’t possibly have a better man leading out IT department.

I haven’t slept in five days. Nothing helps.

When I can’t sleep I see and hear a lot of things.

Do you know how angry that always made my father? Can you imagine how it felt to try to talk about it only to be met with anger that I can’t be normal?

As if I would choose this. As if anyone would.

I’m so tired.

@disheveleddarkness

She was no stranger to bad things happening to her. Ever since she was young, she had become extremely good at compartmentalizing her grief and tampering it down lest she drown in it.

She couldn’t help but blame herself for the fact that her family had been irreparably torn apart. It was her family that carried the Force within them. Her family that had a history of leaning a little too far into the dark side. It was her that had ultimately driven their family apart.

It was all her fault.

With Luke gone off to who know s where, she had no family left.

So she did what any responsible person would do, she threw herself into her work. If she was busy enough she would be too tired to focus on the overwhelming feeling of sadness that threatened to crush her every single day.

Unfortunately that feeling was short lived. A Holomail has just come up on her data pad from the last person she ever expected to reach out to her.

She immediately sent everyone in her office home for the day. This was a moment she didn’t want anyone to be around for.

With watery eyes she slowly read the letter. Her heart ached. She had been cursed with so much empathy and being unable to help the ones she loved made her feel so useless.

Her fingers were shaking as she typed out a reply.

My little songbird,

Every day I am so sorry that I failed you as a mother. Watching you grow was the best thing that ever happened to me. I miss you every day.

If I cannot convince you to return home, know that my love for you transcends any distance between us.

I wish there was a way to go back and fix all of this. We can’t change the past, but I hope after all of this is over, we will still be a part of each other’s future.

Before she could delete what she had written she hit send.

[astaroth1357]

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer 

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty… 

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression*  “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan 

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was  literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too… 

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit?? 

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat… 

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus 

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub 

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup…. 

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…) 

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor 

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

[twinklelilstarkey]

Cuddles - Mathew Barzal

Words: 2.7k+

Type: Fluff

Summary: Every time Mat comes back from a roadie, he becomes the clingiest person known to Earth, which means that he will do absolutely anything to get your attention and his god damn cuddles.

Warnings: PDA - just Mat being really touchy and stuff. There isn’t a mention on reader’s gender.

Mathew is not really the type of person that constantly seeks affection. He just likes his own space from time to time. Especially outside of the house, he’ll hold your hand but he’s not one to hug you out of nowhere, unlike some couples in your friend group.

But, that is only when he hasn’t been away from you for some time. If, for example, you two go spend the holidays with your families (separated), Mathew is not leaving your side when you’re back together. He absolutely will not let you go to do anything. 

So you better take the week off work, every time, you got a man to cuddle. 

And now that you two have been dating for a longer time, officially living under the same roof and doing everything like a whole married couple, Mathew’s seeking for affection after being away is through the roof. Like, he’s out for 2 weeks for a roadie, expect that men to hug you by the bus and never let go of you until you need to pee.

You believe that it might be because he now gets so used to seeing you everywhere in the house that when he leaves, he has that silence and that person missing. 

Yet, still, you never, in a million years, expected him to take his hugs so seriously.

And that is exactly what’s happening right now. He went out for a long roadie, which he can’t complain much because the Islanders won a lot and he had a great time with his friends, but, god damn it, he hated that he had to spend such a long time away from you and just staring at you through a screen.

He came back home late at night, around 4 in the morning, and even though you two felt exhausted - and you were half asleep - he still hugged you and stayed with his arms around you for a good 5 minutes. That is even without closing the front door when he came in.

And when you did reach the bed, you two fell asleep in just a few seconds.

You were able to wake up, naturally, early and Mathew looked so peaceful when you woke up that you tried your best not to move too much and wake him on accident. That man needs rest, and you seriously can’t take that away from him. 

So, you used your silent Sunday morning to the best of your ability, did a lengthy morning routine, just to have that moment with yourself in calm days: take a long relaxing shower, and even do a mask and test new products on your face.

You’re honestly living your best life.

And even after those good 40-50 minutes in the bathroom, Mathew is still asleep when you walk out. 

So, you decide to go have breakfast and probably, just if you’re feeling like it, clean the apartment - an activity you’ve been hesitating to do for days, but, sooner or later, you do have to do it.

And you, like the brave soul that you are, started working on it as soon as you can. Literally downed your coffee like a shot, ate a granola bar, and cleaning you went.

The living room and bathrooms were fairly easy and quick, but as soon as you started with the kitchen, a wild sleepy Mathew makes an appearance.

“Morning.” You say with a smile.

With his eyes still half-closed yet a grin on his face, Mathew walks over to you, slowly starting to open his arms. You put down the rag onto the counter and meet him halfway to wrap your arms around his torso. His arms wrap around your shoulders and squeeze you close.

He leans his cheek onto your head and you close your eyes, feeling and enjoying Mathew’s warmth through the thin shirt you’re wearing.

“How did you sleep?” You ask him.

“Good. I was so tired.” He says while letting out a sigh.

You squeeze him one time and move your head back to stare up at him. He looks down to meet your gaze and gives you a quick kiss, almost as if he’s stealing one.

“What do you want to do today?” He asks you, and you can’t help but hold in a cringe.

“I don’t know if we can do anything exciting today.” You tell him slowly.

“Why?” He asks with a confused frown.

“I have a lot to do today.” You start, “I have to finish cleaning the house, probably go grocery shopping and do my meals for the week.”

A loud and long groan leaves Matthew’s mouth as he throws his head back dramatically and you unwrap your arms from around him to hold his sides.

“I’m sorry.” You try to make it better with a soft tone. “Were you planning on doing anything?”

He brings his head back up and shakes his head.

“Just wanted to spend time with you.” He says before pulling you into a hug again, “And cuddle.” He says against your neck.

You wrap your arms around him again and run your hand up and down his back comfortingly.

“I’m still going to be at home. I just won’t be able to cuddle until I’m done with everything.” You tell him and he sighs dramatically. “You can always help me? So I’m done with all of this quicker.”

Mathew stays silent, still snuggled into your neck, and doesn’t even move a muscle.

Accepting his silence as an answer of ‘no, thank you’ or even ‘let me wake up first and I’ll answer you’, you try to move away from him, laying your hands by his sides again and pushing him away ever so slightly. But, right as Mathew feels the pressure of you pulling him away, he stops you by squeezing you a bit closer.

“Nooo.” He whines, making you laugh, “Just a few more seconds.”

(...)

Mathew, surprisingly, after his long morning shower and eating his breakfast (over the table you just cleaned), actually offered to help. He ignored your surprised look, looked at you, and just asked “what do you need me to do?”.

And off Mat went to clean your room and make the bed. You just finished off with the kitchen and swept some floors, and, honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever got everything done so quickly.

With Mathew still in the bedroom, you decide to start working on the list of groceries. Opening every cabinet and the fridge multiple times, you typed into your phone’s notes what is missing and what you’ll eventually need in a space of a few hours after cooking.

While deep into your task, you don’t notice Mat coming back from the bedroom with the full dirty laundry basket - mostly because he just emptied his travel bag and just changed the sheets. He walks through the kitchen to the laundry room and yet you don’t blink an eye in his direction. 

You are so focused that Mat is starting to think that someone could rob the apartment, right now, and you wouldn’t even notice them.

When the laundry is separated and some of it is already on the machine, which is already on, Mat walks back out to the kitchen and notices you typing on your phone.

“Do you want to go to get the food before lunch?” He asks you, in hopes you would answer him.

You just nod, while scrolling through the list to see if you didn’t repeat anything.

Mat stares at you for a bit, taking a second or two to admire you - something he was unable to do for a good few days. He takes a few steps closer, almost as if testing the waters, and stands right beside you.

He acts as if he’s checking the list you’re writing, and leans in close to you. You, still in your own world, pay him no mind and continue to type and check at least 3 times in the row if anything is missing on the list.

His arms sneakily wrap around your hips and he pulls you closer to him to the point of completely having you against him. He lays a kiss on the side of your head and looks down at your phone again, not wanting to disrupt you too much.

Your vacant hand lays over his arm, caressing it unconsciously as you delete a few words and type some new ones.

“Want to go to the store with me?” You ask him.

You look up at him as Mat doesn’t say anything and when your eyes meet, he gives you a quick nod. You smile at him and he kisses your cheek.

(...)

“You know...” You start while looking at the shelves down the aisle, “You’re making it really hard to walk, babe.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that.”

You laugh at Mat and he smiles against your shoulder. He has been doing this every time the aisle you’re walking down is empty - which is almost every aisle. He has his arms around your waist and is holding you from behind close to him while you try to walk with the shopping cart right in front of you.

You don’t even know how many times you’ve tripped over each other’s feet, but Mat doesn’t seem to mind it at all.

You look down at your list and delete the name of another item as you throw it inside the cart.

“You look really beautiful today.” Mat says against your ear before pressing a kiss over the side of your head.

You look over at him and he leans his head back to look at you better, as well. A small grin lifts off the corners of your lips and he smiles before giving you a kiss.

As you two pull away, you turn your attention back to the aisle in front of you.

“Good to know I just look like that today.” You say to him in the most serious tone ever.

Mat giggles at your words beside your ear and soon your serious act lifts off. In your defense, it’s hard to do so when he’s that close to your ear, giggling his sanity away.

“You know what I mean.” He says while poking your side.

“You’re lucky I do.”

He smiles brightly and goes back to leaning his head over your shoulder. Good thing for him, the store is almost empty, so he can do that for most of the time you’re here.

You stop the cart once more and start, with the best of your ability, putting the things you need from the shelves into the center of the cart.

Soft humming is heard a few meters behind you, yet both you and Mat seem to ignore it. An old lady, with a little basket on her hand, walks down the aisle innocently, looking through the products on the shelves, and as she studies all the varieties, her eyes land on you.

Her view is quite interesting. You’re looking down at your phone, lifting your gaze to squint at what’s in front of you - what she assumes is the signs about each aisle - and a man, Mat, is with his dark hair mostly covered by his hoodie, even though some strands are falling to his forehead, hugging you close to him while peeking down at your phone.

If she wasn’t such a romantic person, she would’ve thought about and probably criticized - in her mind - how clingy you both looked. Yet she’s not one to turn her nose in disgust at such things, quite the opposite. She’s the one that smiles upon seeing them.

“Mat, can you pass me that bag?” She hears you ask the boy while giving him a pat on the head to get his attention.

He doesn’t verbally answer, but, right away, he stands upright and reaches up for the bag your pointing at the top of the shelves.

“Wait- Not that one.” You told him.

“Why not?” He frowns in confusion.

“It doesn’t look good.”

He gives you a look as if you’re going crazy and grabs your wished bag of sugar while listening to you giggle at his annoyance. When the bag reaches the center of the cart, he goes back to behind you and goes back to his warm, kind of, hiding place. 

And that’s when the lady decides to not stare for much longer, in hopes she wouldn’t spook anyone, and walks away to continue her shopping.

You, without even blinking at Mat’s actions, start moving forward out of the aisle and onto the next one. And that’s when your eyes land on the lady, who is walking by you now, at a way faster pace - you got to blame Mat for that one; you swear that a sloth moves faster than you two.

(...)

“Are you done, now?” Mat asks for probably the 100th time in the past hour.

You put down the rinsed pan on the washing machine and finally look back at Mat while closing it.

“Yes.”

“Really?” He asks with widened eyes, “Or are you joking?”

“I’m 100% serious.”

Mathew stands from the high chair of the island and walks over to you right away. He grabs onto your hand and starts pulling you towards the living room and couch, finally going after what he has been wishing all day long. His god damn cuddles.

You have been cooking for the past hour and some more minutes for your meals to eat during the week for work - a habit you’ve started having for a few months and can’t seem to not do it when there’s a big week incoming.

In other words, the restaurants around your work aren’t that great, you’re tired of sandwiches and you’ve been finding yourself too tired during the week to do lunch in the morning or on the night before. So, meal prepping, it is.

You and Mathew walk into the living room and he’s quick to snatch the largest blanket you had just folded this morning. He lets go of your hand before giving a look, almost as if to tell you, ‘don’t you dare move’.

You smile at him as he lays over the couch and motions you to come closer. He grabs onto the tv remote first, probably to get a movie going, just for background noise, and you lay with him.

Your face lays over Mat’s chest comfortably and you feel him shake the blanket around before draping it over the two of you. A little grin is planted over your face as he practically starts tucking you in, close to him.

As soon as the movie is chosen, Mat’s arms wrap around you and he pulls you even closer.

The both of you stare at the TV in silence. You’re just curious to see what movie he chose, while Mat just wants to see if the movie is any good. 

But then, suddenly, an uneasy feeling hits the end of your tummy.

Oh no, he’s going to absolutely hate you.

How are you even supposed to tell him this?

You try to focus on the screen and forget about all your needs. You just got to focus, Y/N, come on.

Not even five minutes later, you feel like you can’t hold it in anymore. Ugh, just do it.

“Hey, Mat?” You ask, tone a little hesitant.

“Yeah?” He asks, moving his hand up and down your back.

“I need to tell you something and, please, don’t be mad.”

Mathew frowns and looks away from the screen at you. He’s confused, you can tell. You can’t really blame him, you were just fine a few minutes ago, and now you sounded like you were about to unleash a bomb.

“Okay...?” He says almost as if to encourage you to talk, since you stayed very quiet.

“I might need to go pee.” You tell him.

His hand abruptly stops moving on your back and his expression of confusion falls into an expression of disbelief.

“Are you serious?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You say, biting your lips as if to keep in your giggles.

“How dare you?”

A giggle finally escapes your mouth and you notice his lips twitching slightly as he tries not to smile and continue his serious act.

“I’ll be right back, yeah?” You tell him as you start sitting up on your knees.

“Screw you.” He tells you and you laugh again.

You’re quick on standing back on your feet and make your way to the bathroom, very fast-paced.

“I love you too, Barzal!” You tell him as you walk out of the room.

Hope this is good!

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

��� ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

[peace-for-levi]

Isabel [Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader]

N.B: heya! if you're scrolling through the tags and thinking, "hey, i have read this before..." chances are you probably have! don't worry, this is not plagiarism. you read that on a - now - deleted blog (i had to restart for reasons i won't go into.) so i am reposting everything now!

synopsis: when levi's wife goes into labour, he has to drop the crude, cold façade he normally holds and be there in their time of need.

tw: possible inaccuracies as i have never been pregnant before LOL, reader is labouring, occasional use of she/her throughout, levi being soft ASF (self-indulgent all the way.)

--

You turned your head at the sound of the door and almost immediately, you felt the wintery gust flood through the narrow hallway of your house. You sucked in a breath, but you quickly smiled. After all, your husband had returned to your cosy cottage.

He shut the door behind him, and you saw him lean his head against it, heaving a great sigh. You frowned at how he almost always needed those few seconds to just process everything in his head before turning to face you. You instinctively brought a hand down to your swollen tummy - was this a good decision after all? Having a baby in these troubling, turbulent times?

But then he turned around again to face you and his face was illuminated by the amber-coloured light of the oil lamp. He saw you stirring the steaming pot of stew and his steely gaze softened immediately.

He smiled.

Don’t be silly, you chastised yourself for such thoughts, he’s happy with us.

Of course he was. He could calm down instantly looking at you. He walked over and shrugged off his forest green cloak and placed it on the counter next to you. War-torn hands reaching out and cupping your cheeks, he pressed his lips to your forehead. You felt his calloused thumbs rub against your temples and you leaned into his touch. Immediately his hands fell to your tummy and rubbed in circles.

“Dinner smells good,” he whispers softly against your lips, “how was your day?”

Dinner did smell good; nothing could beat some beef stew after a long day with your cast iron kettle hanging over the fire, right? He couldn’t wait until your bellies were filled and he could cosy up with you in front of the fire with a cup of black tea in his hand.

Your smile grew wider when he sank to his knees and nuzzled against your tummy. You were probably going to give birth in the next week or two. You lowered your right hand and allowed it to tread through his raven locks, your other hand still stirring to prevent any sticking to your pot.

“Eh…” you huffed out.

Levi pulled back for a bit. “Had an ‘eh’ day myself… What’s troubling you?”

“Just very crampy today and my back is killing me. Why did you have an ‘eh’ day?”

You almost laughed when you heard Levi’s heavy sigh, and it was a long sigh too. He closed his eyes as he recounted the disaster at HQ but… what with the amount of grief Levi had been through, there was very little that could faze him now.

Still, when he recounted to you that Hange accidentally launched one of their new projects - a thunder spear - into HQ and close to his office at that - while he was drinking his tea! - obviously he would be pretty livid. All that was destroyed in the fires of the aftermath were two bedrooms and a storage room, and thankfully no lives were lost, but he wasn’t going to forgive Hange for a while after this. You had to give him credit for his composure.

“I miss Hange, even in spite of these incidents.” You spoke.

You hadn’t seen Hange since you were discharged by Erwin at three months. Well, you had waved at her in the streets when you did your shopping for you and Levi and you might converse briefly, but she was always too busy to stop by for a chat. She did, however, say she’d be present for the birth.

“I bet he’d get along with Hange.”

“Still sure we’re having a boy?” your husband asked.

You yawned as exhaustion began to consume you more and more. “Yeah, he is giving me a lot of trouble like how his father used to.” You teased.

Levi only muttered something under his breath, and you weren’t quite sure what it was. He leaned back a bit and extended his index finger. “Oi, stop giving your mother a hard time. She’s tired.”

Another yawn. “I am, actually. I might pass on dinner tonight and just head to bed.”

Levi stood up again and eyed you curiously; wasn’t like you to skip dinner but he thought nothing of it. He mentioned he’d save some for you and with a chaste kiss to your lips, you made your way upstairs.

You opened the creaky, wooden door to your shared bedroom and when you disrobed, you rooted around for a clean nightgown in your drawers. You groaned as another sharp pain radiated around your lower back and pelvic area. You held onto the edge of the drawers with a white-knuckle grip. You had gotten cramps here and there before throughout your pregnancy, but these were just all-consuming. A few more whimpers and a few deep breaths though, and they subsided.

Hmm, weird, there’s no way it’s time already? I’m still a week or two early, you said to yourself. If he wants to come now, what will happen… would he be healthy?

You shook your head and made your way over to the bed, propping yourself up with a few pillows. It wasn’t long before Levi came into the room too with a candle in his hand before placing it down on his desk. As he removed his shirt, the dull light illuminated and highlighted his defined body. You smiled dozily at him and you were fast asleep before he could even climb into bed.

.

.

.

Awaking in the middle of the night with your husband’s arms wrapped around you was always a treat. He didn’t always sleep, and when he did, it was poor. But whenever his arms snaked around your chest with one hand resting on your tummy, you knew he was sleeping well. It gave you a chance to look at his unguarded and peaceful countenance.

You woke up with a feeling of heartburn that was hard to ignore so you decided a drink of water might be a good idea. You made your way downstairs, careful not to wake your sleeping husband. Leaning against the countertop once you reached the kitchen, you fetched yourself a glass of water and began to sip slowly.

Gulping the last bit down, you placed the glass in a sink and walked towards the stairs again… until you felt a gush of warm liquid flow down your legs.

Oh, crap!

You peered down at the pool of fluid between your legs that was now pooling in your hallway. Your mind froze and all you could do was stare for a few seconds.

“U-uh… Levi?!” you shrieked.

You heard a large thud from upstairs when he landed less than gracefully - unceremoniously, even - after jumping from your bed and he was quick to scurry down the stairs at the yell.

“What the hell?! Are you ok--?”

He stopped when his bare feet splashed against the pool of fluids between you both.

“Oh, my?” he questioned and peered down. “Is it that time already?”

You only blinked at his calmness at the situation. How was he not freaking out?! Your fingers moved to clench your soaking gown. He reached for your hands and walked you towards the front door. He stopped for a few seconds as he scratched his head in thought.

“Levi?!” you screeched at his silence.

He had to stay as calm as possible. It was something he was well used to, being a good captain and all. But it was so different in this situation. Seeing you panic like this and the gravity of the situation made him almost lose his composure. He was able to keep everything well hidden beneath his steely exterior and this was all because he was good at analysing typically abnormal situations.

This wasn’t a situation like this. All he had to do was be a supportive husband for you.

As he hurried down the stairs again, the realization dawned on him again.

Was this actually happening? Were you two going to be parents? Could you two do this?

Well, it was not like you had a choice now.

“Come, let’s get moving.” He said, holding you with one hand by the small of your back.

He assisted you back up the stairs as fast as your body would allow, but once you got to the bathroom just a few metres shy of your bedroom, that’s when you felt everything tighten and your breath became lodged in your throat. Your legs buckled as your hands gripped onto the architrave. Levi was quick to descend with you and hold your hand. A pained groan escaped your lips and you heard deep breaths beside you.

“Deep breaths, you can do it, [F/n]...” he said as he rubbed your back in circles. He tried to do deep breathing with you, taking long, exaggerated breaths. All to feel you a little less alone or too lost in your own pain.

It wasn’t the worst pain you had experienced - you were a former veteran of the Scouts after all - but that didn’t make the feeling pleasant either.

He propped up all the pillows to give you ample support and he placed a hand on your shin, gesturing you to keep your legs open. It seemed that the next contraction seemed to be taking its time, so he made the decision to alert the neighbours. This was a plan Levi had made with them a few months ago, that he’d call next door and ask them to go rush to the nurses and for Hange. Luckily for you two, HQ was no more than a five-minute walk away.

After slipping into a dress shirt and black slacks, he ran down the stairs and hopped over the wall to your neighbour. It was close to midnight now, but hopefully they’d be awake… If not, he’d have to leave you alone by yourself and that was not an option.

He rapped on the door and even called out to them, before knocking again. Thankfully, the middle-aged man and his wife seemed to be up and were quick to open the door.

Perhaps Levi looked a bit more flustered than he thought he did. Then again, as someone so composed all the time, any change in composure screamed out.

“Captain Levi? Is everything alright?” the wife asked.

Levi inhaled sharply. Damn, he was getting stressed already. If they were to shine the oil lamp up to his face, they would be able to see the sweat beading at his brows and how his pupils had narrowed from the intensity of the situation. “[F/n] has gone into labour, earlier than we expected. She needs the nurses a-and Hange--” Fuck, was he stuttering from it all? “I can’t leave her alone to get them and-”

The wife who was probably a good three inches shorter than him looked up at him and passed him a soft smile; a reassuring smile. She had been through all this before. She knew the chaos involved but knew the best thing he could be was a pillar of support for you. She placed her hands on his shoulders and got her to look at him. Normally he’d shrug off any physical contact from anyone that wasn’t you, but his mind was spiralling, and he was doing his best to hide it.

“Levi, it’s okay. Dear, you go get the nursing staff and Hange, okay?” she called out to her husband who had already saddled up in the meantime and taken off. “My husband will be back soon. Let me get you a few things.”

Levi tapped his foot impatiently as she pattered around the house for a bit. She came back with a bag of rags, towels and some knitted clothes.

“It’s important you stay calm, okay? What do you think you’ll have?”

Levi shrugged as he nodded his thanks. “I don’t know, of course, but [F/n] reckons we’ll have a boy.”

“Hmm… I think you’ll have a daughter!” she beamed.

Levi began to head out the door again. “Look, thank you so much for everything.”

“Best of luck, Levi,” she wished with a gleeful smile, “and congratulations.”

Levi nodded with the bag and headed back up the stairs of his home. He burst through the door of your bedroom and was immediately at your side again. He dropped the bag down at your bedside and reached for your hand. He caught you just in time for another contraction. You tried to steady yourself, but you cried out once more and gripped onto the blankets as another contraction overwhelmed you. You hastily grabbed a pillow and cried into it, trying to muffle your cries. Okay, it was official, this was the worst pain you had felt thus far, and all Levi could do was stare helplessly.

It’s not like he could do much. He couldn’t take away the pain from you, but by god, he wished he could. He’d deliver the child if biologically possible, anything to not see you in so much agony. But every time a contraction died away, you would re-emerge and tackle this again with an ungodly amount of strength.

And he couldn’t be prouder of you in these agonizing yet awe-inspiring moments.

You lowered your pillow when you vaguely heard the crowd of nurses patter into the room and everything kicked off. The lead nurse stated she’d be the main overseer to everything. At times, Levi’s mind flitted in and out of the conversation at hand from the nurses. His stare glossed over occasionally, and you couldn’t exactly decipher what it was he was feeling. Whatever it was he was feeling, he hid it well. He absent-mindedly rubbed the small of your back hoping you’d relax as the nurse checked your cervix. His ears perked up once he heard the number ‘three.’

“Three centimetres, seven to go, I reckon.”

“OOH, SEVEN?! HOW EXCITING!” a voice from outside screeched and Levi’s face fell flat. The bespectacled brunette burst through the door. “THAT’S SO FEW!”

“Hange.” Levi barked. He said nothing but his gaze said, be quiet now. “If you’re not gonna be helpful to [F/n], you can leave out the door you came in.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she aired as she rushed over to the other side of your bed and sat on top. “How are you doing, [f/n]? Anything I can do?” she asked. At first you shook your head, but when she mentioned that she brought a few scented candles to help soothe you - or at the very least, keep a gentle ambiance going - you perked up. “Okay, I’ll go light them. Levi, do you have any matches?”

“In the high cupboard left to the sink.” He said and she scurried down.

“Fuck… Levi, it’s happening again…” you groaned as you tossed your head back.

“I have you.” He reminded. He loosened his hand so you could squeeze it. With each contraction came a pain that dominated your entire being. In those moments, for those seconds that stretched into infinity, there was nothing else. Every contraction seemed to hurt more than before, and you would be left panting and almost delirious for a few seconds. Everything melted into the background when a contraction came; the nurses melted to nothing as did their encouraging cries.

But you remained grounded to Levi. He held your hand with every contraction and his lips were pressed to your sweaty temple. While you could only vaguely hear his encouraging words, he was still there and encouraging you to breathe deeply through it all, even if it hardly did anything to alleviate the pain.

“How much longer will this take?”

“She progressed quickly enough to get to the three so it may not take too long. Though it could just as easily be another few hours, or even well into tomorrow. I’m sorry, there’s no way of knowing.” The nurse replied.

Levi only nodded. He just wanted you to be okay and to make this as pain-free as possible. Hange came back in with the matches and began to light a few candles.

As time passed, your head fell. The contractions kept coming but you weren’t progressing as fast as you thought. By the time the second hour rolled by, you had only made it to four centimetres. You were reminded that you’d know when to push.

Levi couldn’t stand to see you in so much pain.

“Is there anything we can do?” he asked, now getting slightly panicked.

The nurse smiled sadly, knowing there was only so much they could do. “[F/n], how about a walk out in the fresh air?” she offered.

Levi peered over at you. Within the past two hours, he had acquired a basin and wet cloth, and was dabbing it occasionally on your forehead. “How about it?” he asked, repeating the motion of it as you lifted your head up again to receive his touch.

“If I walk down those stairs, I don’t think I’ll make it back up…” you huffed.

Hange had taken to holding your other hand too. Levi’s initial glare at her excitement seemed to do the trick and she was very helpful. Perhaps more proactive than the nurses. Then again, she was your best friend; she probably wanted to do everything under the sun.

“A bath may help?” Hange perked up. “Warm water and all?” to which you nodded.

Levi stood and pulled you up. Before you may have walked upright and with your back straight, but now you walked totally hunched over. He ordered for someone - anyone who could get there fastest - to draw a bath. A few stayed behind in the bedroom, taking turns supervising you.

Levi walked you towards the bathroom and unbuttoned your nightgown. With an ‘arms up’ command, he had it off you quickly and you were left in just your bra. He lowered you into the bath and you sat in the middle of the tub. He questioned why you weren’t going to lean back and that was when you asked him to come into the bath with you. He wasn’t going to fight you in the moment and rushed back to the bedroom and put on a pair of (swimming) shorts… or shorts he had no issue getting wet. Within mere seconds, he lowered himself into the bath and wrapped his legs loosely around your waist, his chest firm against your back. He began to rub your arms up and down and leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re doing so well.” He said. His tone lowered to a whisper when he heard you begin to weep. “Hey, hey, hey… What’s wrong? Ah-- Hange, can you go get us a basin?” he asked. Your face paled a little and he shouted for the Titan scientist to hurry as another contraction washed over you.

“L-Levi, I don’t feel right…”

“Hange!” he barked for the third time.

You brought a hand up to your mouth and expelled whatever food had been inside you from before. The pain of this contraction was so intense you had thrown up. Levi swept a thumb across your chin and Hange came in with a basin, and you spilled the rest into it. In fact, you threw up twice more. The bitter taste in your mouth left you feeling all disgusting and ‘icky’, and you let out a choked sob of frustration. Your body had you rocking back and forth on its own accord, trying to move with the pain so to speak, letting out pained groans through gnashed teeth.

Levi leaned you forward and began to rub your lower back. “Breathe. You gotta breathe, [f/n], come on.”

You shook your head as you wailed, almost sounding like you were giving in. “I can’t! It’s too much, Levi!”

“Hey,” he called gently. “Sniff the flowers,” he commanded and paused to breathe in, “and blow out the candles” and he exhaled. “You can do that for me?”

You weren’t sure about how the silly visual cue helped you at all, but you also knew Levi wasn’t going to quit saying it until you did what he told you to do. After a few deep breaths, you calmed down and your contraction died away. Levi continued to rub your lower back, offering whispered words of encouragement.

“Gosh, Shorty, aren’t you such a sweetie?” Hange jeered.

“Go away, Four Eyes.”

The contractions came and went, growing more and more intense. Levi sometimes opted to swish the water down and forth or turn on the tap, to give you something else to focus on. You weren’t sure how long you two stayed in the bath, but Levi helped lift you out once the water had gotten cold. Hange went to relight the candles, pillows were propped back up and you were moved back to your bedroom, to do the whole thing all over again.

And frankly, you weren’t sure how long you could hold on for. It was unbearable. As the hours ticked by until the wee morning, you were losing your strength.

“I’m sorry.” Levi mumbled as he kissed your matted hair.

“It hurts so much. I’m so tired.” You whispered, your voice dry and hoarse.

Levi looked up at the nurse and then over at the small clock on your bedside lock. Seven in the morning, so you had been labouring for seven hours, if not more if you were experiencing smaller contractions before your water broke.

How he ached to take all your pain away from you; to shoulder it all and save you from this agony. You both knew it would be worth it at the end, but the process of getting there was no doubt painful.

“You’re doing well. It’ll all be over soon, won’t it?” he asked and looked at the nurse.

“I’ll go see how far you are,” she said, softly. You let your legs widen as she did another cervical exam. You flinched a bit as you felt her gloved fingers inside. She gasped. “My, you’re almost there. Easily nine centimetres!”

For the first time in a couple hours, you felt genuine relief amidst all the chaos and pain.

.

.

.

Levi had sent the nurses and Hange downstairs an hour later, telling them they were free to help themselves to food stored in your cupboards. They had been crowding around you both for over eight hours now, they deserved a break too. You were fine with your husband sitting through your contractions with you, especially when you only had a centimetre or two left.

That was when you felt an excruciating pain down below, unlike anything you had felt all evening. Levi was at your side in seconds.

“What is it?”

“Hnnn!” you groaned out. This was it. This had to be it, the feeling the nurses told you about. An overwhelming amount of pressure was building between your legs and you let out a guttural noise. “Get Hange and the nurses.”

“Wait, is time? Now-”

“Get the fucking nurse, Levi!” you yelled, and he ran down to fetch them.

The pressure had your hips swaying into position, it was almost unbearable to refrain from pushing. The pain had your whole body trembling. Levi arrived back in with the nurses and you opened your legs at the lead nurse’s command. Your husband was sitting by your side once more, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I see a head! And plenty of hair too! The baby has moved into the birth canal. I need you to push on the next contraction.” She explained.

You heaved in massive strokes, starting to lose your breath. You were completely worn out now, body and mind. You all waited with bated breaths for the next contraction to hit. You took in a massive breath when you felt that familiar pain come back again. Your stomach tightened - everything tightened - as a scream ripped out from your throat.

“You have got to push harder, [f/n].” The nurse urged. Hange came in, sitting on the bed and shuffled onto the bed to hold your other hand.

You shook your head. There was no way you could, you were so depleted of energy.

“You can do this.” Your husband said.

“I can’t! You have to do it for me!” you wept into his arms.

“I would if I could.” He assured you.

The nurse called for your attention. “The next time you push, tuck your chin into your chest and push as though you got to do a number two. But push very hard.”

You blinked frantically. “Wait, what if I do poop?”

“That means you’re pushing right!” Hange cheered.

This entire conversation made Levi grimace, and it took every ounce of self-control to not cringe.

The final contraction hit and with whatever strength you could muster, you pushed through with a shrill cry. The baby began to crown, the hot stretching of flesh almost making you want to stop but you had to keep pushing through. You felt the head leave your body and you pushed through the rest of your contraction. You held onto Levi’s hand with such force he was pretty sure you could have broken it. And he would have taken it.

And then the pain left your body finally.

Tiny cries pierced the air.

Levi tilted your head back and his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that carried so many emotions with it; love, adoration, pride, elation and gratitude. He kissed you again and once more while your baby was being wrapped up. One of the extra nurses moved to clean you up and help deliver the placenta.

“A girl, congratulations.” The nurse whispered. Hange cracked a toothy grin, but she knew to step back and leave you two to have your moment.

You looked down at your wrapped-up little miracle, falling in-love instantly. Had her father’s hair and gunmetal eyes, but your eye shape and complexion. She also had your chin too. Your index finger rubbed against her plump cheeks and almost began to whimper again but with a few gentle hushes from you, she settled down once more. She was probably hungry too.

“She looks so much like you…” you whispered, looking up at your husband. The nurses and Hange took this as their cue to leave. Levi’s eyes had completely glossed over with a newfound vulnerable expression that you had never seen before. You could tell he was just itching to hold her, so as gently as you could, you shuffled over to the side to allow Levi to relax into the headrest. “Here, Levi.”

Your little girl was placed into his arms and a calloused thumb immediately went to trace under her eyes and around her cheeks, her forehead; everywhere. A swell of emotions overcame him like a tsunami crashing against the shoreline and he shut his eyes, tears flowing down his pallid cheeks and he made no effort to stop them. His lower lips trembled, and minute whimpers escaped his lips, but he was desperately clawing at whatever composure he had left to try to piece himself back together.

But he could cry, his daughter was here. He was a father now; he could be as emotional as he liked, and no one would care.

“Isabel.” You said, gently, and Levi nodded at the suggestion.

Levi’s thumb moved to his daughter’s fist and her fingers latched around it instantly, bringing his thumb to her mouth and began to suck. He let out a soft chuckle. “I think she’s hungry.”

“I bet she is.” You said, reaching out and taking a hold of her once more. The baby began to wriggle, and her arms broke free from the blanket, beginning to fuss. You lowered one side of your nightgown and held your daughter against your breast. She latched after a few seconds and by god was it uncomfortable. The feeling had you biting your lower lip in discomfort, but you just had to grin and bear it.

The three of you sat in silence for another half hour or so as you nursed your baby when you heard a knock on the door. Hange peeked her head around and smiled widely at you both.

“Shhh.” Levi was quick to say.

Hange tiptoed in. “I may have bought a few visitors…”

The raven-haired man’s face fell flat. “How many?”

And in came all of Levi’s newest squad and Erwin. He face-palmed at the noise and shrugged off his blazer to cover you and your daughter.

“Is this a bad time, Levi?”

“Yes, it’s a bad time. She’s barely been born a half hour and--”

“I KNEW IT WOULD BE A GIRL! TAKE THAT, MISTER DEATH WISH!” you heard come from outside the room. You only sighed softly.

“I tried to keep those two out of this,” Erwin mentioned as he walked over to the two of you. You removed your baby from your breast and buttoned up your nightgown again. The blonde smiled in pure adoration. “She’s so precious. Congratulations, Levi, [F/n].”

“Thank you, Erwin.” He replied and you nodded your thanks.

In your half-asleep state, you began to nurse again in front of everyone, not bothering to cover up. Levi sighed heavily and moved to cover you up again before you came through.

“Sir, we can call back later if you want.” Eren piped up, walking over to stand by his superior.

“It’s okay, Eren, this is natural. I don’t mind, provided you don’t stare too much.”

“I mind?!” Levi cried. With your free hand, you rested it on his hand. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Fine. You can stay, Jaeger. All of you can.”

Sasha and Connie were next to try to squeeze onto your too small bed for nine extra people.

“I brought her some potatoes!” she chimed and handed one to you. You had to politely explain that babies probably won’t eat until four months at the earliest. And even then, it would only be baby gloop and mushy foods. Not steamed potatoes.

Connie peaked over Levi’s shoulder. “Do you mind?” Levi asked him rhetorically.

“Nope,” he answered swiftly and saluted. On the wrong side. “Sir, why does it look squishy and ugly?”

And then ensued a fiery debate from everyone in the room (apart from Erwin) on why you shouldn’t call babies squishy and ugly, especially in front of their parents. Especially if one of those parents was one Levi Ackerman. But amidst all the commotion, both you and your baby were tuckered out. Levi was surprised that he saw you dozing off in spite of all the ruckus and that your baby was suckling away on nothing.

The short man may have had his doubts before Isabel was born but looking at everyone around here right now - being so chaotic and noisy, but so full of happiness and pride for you both - made all those negative thoughts wash away.

It took a bit of shuffling and squeaking of military boots, but eventually everyone was kicked out by Levi. He looked back fondly at you two, both of you sound asleep.

He would promise you both a normal, peaceful, family life one day. Even if he had to lay down his life doing it.

Because every doubt, struggle, emotional outburst, hormonal-fuelled argument led you both to this, and he would not trade it for the world.

This was his purpose; protect his beautiful wife and precious daughter.

And maybe one day, in the distant future, he would be able to spend more time with you two. In a world without Titans. In a world that was peaceful.

But for now, he had a small serving - a slice - of peace at home and he couldn’t wait to navigate this new chapter of his life with you.

[missblissy]

Hi!! I want some pain so the Hurt/comfort post, about Alastor x reader with 1, 2, 4, 12??

((Of course Nonny!! Sorry for such a wait!! I've got a lot of these to work on lol. REMEMBER!! REQUEST ARE CLOSED RIGHT NOW, EVERYONE!! IF YOU SEND ONE IN I WILL NOT DO IT! I've had a few other people send some in and I'm sorry to say I have to delete them. I do not have any more room to take any more prompt requests. Thank you everyone for understanding! NOW.... Enjoy the Modern!AU Angst >:D))

1: “We need to stop the bleeding – now!” 2: “I hate to see you hurt like this.” 4: “I want to help you, so please let me.” 12: “You’re normally the tough guy. Today, let me be tough for the both of us.”

Something about today had felt off. Ever since you woke up, it just felt... not right. As if your mind already knew what was going to happen before it actually did. But no one can really know that for sure. That's why it's called a gut feeling. And that feeling told you that today... You might just die.

You've tasted blood before. But for some reason this time it tasted sweet, rather than bitter, and full of iron. There wasn't much for you to focus on other than the lights from the ceiling flickering over your head. You faintly heard a doctor screaming, "We need to stop the bleeding! BP is dropping- Let's go! Now!"

How did you end up here again, violently broken and bleeding out? Oh, that's right... You were driving home after work. It was another late shift during the dead hours of the night. Drunk drivers were often out during these hours of the night. One just so happened to hit you, and now you're here in a hospital.

You just wanted to go home and sleep. You wanted to lay beside your husband and not have to worry about anything. That was not your case, however. And instead, you tried your best to speak. A nurse who was pushing you along the gurney said, "It's alright, we'll help you, you're safe now." But all you wanted to do was ask about your husband. For someone to tell him what was going on. You were sure he was at home, sleeping soundly and without a clue what had happened.

And Alastor wouldn't find out until the next morning. He'd wake up to several missed calls from dozens of people and some he didn't even know. This man didn't even get dressed. He ran out of the house still in his pajamas and floored it to the hospital. Along the way there, Alastor would throw a massive fit. He'd smash his hands on the steering wheel, beating himself up over not getting there sooner.

He'd curse and swear and honestly drive like a maniac. Every red light he got caught at only made him angrier with the world. His tires would spin and shoot smoke the second the light flickered green and off he rushed again.

Luckily, you were out of surgery long before Alastor got to the hospital. A nurse walked him to your room, and he found himself staring at a sight he'd never imagine. You were broken beyond belief. The nurse gave Alastor a sorry look, "Everything's stable, for now," The nurse said, "But...." She shook her head, "It was one of the worse car accidents we've ever seen. We did everything we could-"

"Coma..." Alastor said the single word, "Induced or?" The nurse shook her head.

"Brain damage, though there is still plenty of brain activity," That was good to hear. It meant you weren't brain dead... yet. The nurse gave him a sorry look, then with a nod of her head, she left him there. Alastor slowly walked into your room and closed the door behind him. He even turned all the blinds so no one could see in the little windows from the hallways. Everything felt wrong.

He stood at your bedside. Taking in everything. The tubes, the machines, the wires. Almost immediately he felt his eyes burn with the threat of tears. And when he placed a hand on your cheek he couldn't stop the waves of them rushing down his face.

The sheer pain of the situation made Alastor sob like a child for the first time in his adult life. He sat down beside you and grabbed your hand, "Dammit..." He squeezed tightly, "Dammit!" He let out a little shout and brought your hand to his cheek, "I hate this-" He let out a small cry, "I hate to see you like this, my poor dear-"

He couldn't stop the waves of tears sobbing from his eyes. He'd never let himself cry like this before, but he felt like if he didn't cry, he wouldn't have the chance to later. With anger, he ran a hand over his face, aggressively wiping his tears. He threw his glasses off his face and they clinked to the floor. Alastor's fingers ringed into his hair as he let out another sob and pushed his bangs out of his face. He had completely lost all of his composure. Every part of him was breaking down.

Alastor sat down in the chair by your bedside and buried his head in one of his hands. With his other hand, he still held firm to yours. His fingers dug into your skin as let out another sob, "Please-" He hiccuped, "Please...!" He looked up at your unconscious face with watery dark eyes, "Please be okay," He whispered the words out quickly as he brought your hand to his lips, "Please let me help you-" He spoke the words against your skin, "I want to help you- Please let me... Just!" He paused for another quick sob, "Please just give me a sign your still in there..."

He was never a man to pray to any kind of god. He didn't believe there was one, to begin with. But Alastor found himself praying, hoping that anything would happen. He couldn't lose you, and certainly not like this. You never sign any DNR papers or made it clear to your doctors that you didn't want to be resuscitated. But you did tell Alastor if there ever came a day that you needed machines to keep you alive, you had asked him to pull the plug.

With the weight of what was once just a silly conversation that had now come true, Alastor found himself drowning in misery. He rested his head on the back of your hand as sat in his chair. He looked at his glasses on the ground as tears splattered around them, "I don't want to kill you," He whispered with a cry, "I don't want to unplug you if there is a chance you'll come out of this."

The stone-cold silence lasted only a second between the beats of your heart monitor. A beep, then silence. Another beep, then silence again. Alastor found himself swelling with rage and anger, but mostly sadness. He shook his head slowly as he stared at the ground. This can't be happening... He thought This has to be a dream... This-

Something sounded off. The beeps were getting... faster? Alastor looked up and stared at the monitors. He didn't understand any of them, there were so many, but something was happening. He watched numbers flicker and change when suddenly he felt a tug at his hand.

You didn't make a sound or hardly move but you're squeezed his hand. Alastor had never been so hopeful for something so small. He shot out of his chair with enough force to tip it over behind him.

"Darling!?" Alastor firmly gripped your hand and leaned over you. He let his free hand brush your hair out of your face as he asked, "Darling, please, for the love of god- Can you hear me?"

He waited, and waited some more. Suddenly her felt your hand squeeze him again while he searched your face for any signs, "oh my god-" He whispered to himself as he watched your face twitch with pain before your eyes flickered open. With lightning speed Alastor ran to the door of your room and swung it open, "Someone get a nurse!" He shouted into the hallway, "Please!" He ignored most of the odd stares he was getting.

It wasn't a second later that a small team of nurses rushed in to check on you. You had certainly woken up and the tubes down your throat were not comfortable at all. The intubation tubes were removed, along with the feeding tubes, while others updated your stats. Alastor waited nervously in the corner of the room as he watched a team of people work over you. He felt so helpless that he couldn't watch for long. He'd leave the room and wait in the hallway, trying his best to ignore the painful coughs and groans as tubes were pulled out of your throat.

When the nurses left, Alastor quickly went back into the room and to your side. You had only just started breathing on your own again. It was much harder to breathe than ever before, but you still managed. You were still groggy, swore, and very much in pain. Despite this, you still let the smallest and weakest smile crawl along your lips, "Hey..." Was the first thing you said to your husband.

You watched as Alastor's eyes flickered all over your form. From the casts, the pins, the cuts, and bruises. He searched your face for serval minutes than began a weak laugh that sounded similar to a cry, "H-hey..." He said with a long sigh, he even tried to wear a smile that just didn't sit right on his face.

"Al..." You raised a weak and tired hand to his face. He immediately pressed his cheek into the palm of your hand and shook his head, "I'm sorry," You said. But you had nothing to be sorry for, you didn't cause this or intend for it to happen.

He couldn't say anything, Alastor was too caught up with his feelings. You watched him break down all over again as if he was still living with the fear that you might die, "Hey- hey," You raised your hand slightly and made him look at you, "I'm alright," It was hard to see him so broken down like this, "I'm okay, I'm here." You reassured him, "I'm not going anywhere."

Alastor shook his head quickly as if he didn't want to bother you with his feelings. He sucked in a quick gasp for air then sobbed out, "I'm not strong enough to deal with something like this- Ever-.... I can't lose you." He said quickly.

You couldn't really scoot over but thankfully the bed was rather large. You gave Alastor's arm a tug and he quickly climb in and curled up beside you. He was careful to stay clear of any broken bones as he made himself comfortable.

You stared at the ceiling while Alastor shut his eyes and buried himself into the crook of your neck, you used your free hand to comb his hair despite the pain it caused you to move, "That's alright," You finally told him, "No one is strong enough to deal with something like this. You're normally so tough and good at hiding your emotions. But you don't have to do that. I'm alive, I lived, I can be tough enough for the both of us, even if it's just for today."

Alastor curled himself as close as he could beside you. He wanted nothing more than to hide and forget about this day, he knew how impossible that was but he still wanted it. You could feel his tears running from his face and onto your skin. He couldn't stop crying when normally he never cried. He didn't even cry at his mother's funeral. Even though you were the one in the car accident, somehow you felt that Alastor was in the most pain.

"Please don't ever leave me," His voice was raspy and broken as he spoke against the skin of your neck.

With a sad and sorry look on your face, you did your best to pull him closer and wrap your arm around him. You pressed your forehead against his and you felt a set of tears drop from your eyes. You did your best to smile as you spoke, "I won't," You promised, "I'll never leave you, I'll always be here."