#and all preparations count for Glitter Points

[inkskinned]

i couldn't really do optimism, it felt stupid to me. i am hopeful by nature, but not optimistic. optimism feels like closing my eyes. it feels like doing subtraction and calling it multiplication. it feels like the type of romantic even poets can't be.

but how are you supposed to recover without optimism? without that sense - eventually, good things will happen for me. i couldn't even type that sentence without hissing through my teeth. it feels so - sorry, holden caulfield - fucking phony.

i like cautious optimism. i like testing the ice. i have this thing where i can't really picture a "best case" scenario without knowing i'm jinxing the outcome, so instead i think - what is something i would like to happen, and how would i get there?

that's the thing i feel control over - doing something to get there. it's easier to picture myself, deer-legged and balancing; rather than having fate scoop love and virtue onto a plate and feed it to me like grapes. it's easier to picture a world that's still-pretty-bleak, but one that i am trying to be good in. one where the actions are mine to complete.

i would say i'm realistic about the world. i almost never find myself saying this is going to be amazing. i am often instead planning for the worst situation, and saying; well, as long as we're all surviving. i don't push myself towards any specific goal or dream. i am swinging from branch to branch, quietly enjoying the trees. i have never pictured that there's an end to the jungle. mostly i'm just glad i spend less and less time picturing falling.

the thing about cautious optimism is that it's also more forgiving. i don't assume i'll always have the energy to brush my teeth. optimism is buying the planner and making new friends and signing up for a thousand activities and redecorating. optimism peters out after a week. instead, i give myself the credit for just-doing-the-little-things. despite having no time for failure, i spent wednesday on the ground, staring at nothing. but while i wasn't hungry, i did make sure to eat something.

how many times have i said "recovery isn't pretty". most of the time it does feel fucking ugly. but there's this little glitter about cautious optimism - she says well, but you did try. and maybe tomorrow we can do 1 more beautiful thing. she sees me sitting on the bare floor in dirty clothes and she says you're resting. she sees me eating 3 cookies for dinner and says aren't they tasty? she tells me to view the things in my life not half-full, not half-empty. instead, she says. the glass is neither empty nor full, but at least you're drinking :)

[hoseoksluna]

A CELEBRATION OF 2K FOLLOWERS — PLEASANT, GOOD AND MERCIFUL | jjk

pairing: non-idol!boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader 

genre: smut, angst, fluff — the whole package

word count: 8.9k

summary: jungkook wanted to make the night better for you—but what he didn't expect is that he would come across his true, unabashed self while doing so.

taglist: join | cp: wattpad, ao3

warnings: jungkook, physical violence, jungkook is wearing that mesh top and that exact outfit (god, help me) and he's horny (god, help me again), abandonment issues, dissociation, panic mode, fear, swear words, dom/sub dynamics, protected sex, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), deepthroat:), teasing, pda, jungkook smokes and jungkook uses his busan accent (you have been warned), religion, praying, anxiety, hyper-independence, trust issues, begging, a little bit of a praise kink — barely, cowgirl:).

note: because we hit 2k incredible followers, i prepared this for you, my babies. a full fucking package of drama, smut, angst and fluff—all from jungkook's own pov!!!!! this is all for you bc i love you sm. thank you, guys, so much for being here with me, sticking around and reading my stupid fics. enjoy this one shot and let me know what you think. i'm sending you so many kisses until you get sick of me. seriously. i won't stop. i love you. MWAHMWAHMWAHMWAHMHWA.

It is a lucid dream, really, the way the lustrous colors of the fireworks bloom across the charcoal sky. They intertwine with the darkened clouds, like vines of wild flowers, that try and fail to remain hidden and Jungkook thinks you burst with even richer, emotive colors. 

With your kaleidoscopic glitter on the high points of your cheeks, and the tiny stars that you stuck on each arch of your brow. 

He can feel the vibration of the deep bass, belonging to the music, coursing down your chest as he stands behind you, drifting his hands down the upper half of your body while the rest of the strangers are hypnotized by the rapper on stage that he has very little knowledge of. The reason why he paid for the tickets, pumped a full tank of gas, drove you all the way to the countryside outside of the normality of your daily life and never let go of your hand—despite the fact they grew uncomfortably clammy due to the stifling heat—was because you loved the man. The vulgar headliner, whose lyrics nearly made his eyes fall out of his sockets once he fully and consciously listened to the songs that you always sing when you do your makeup or hum at random times when you’re doing your own thing. 

And what’s worse, it made his dick hard when he heard you scream out the swear words and the filthy imagery painted in the vivaciousness of the songs.

You, who scarcely cursed. 

Who omitted the vulgarity when rapping along. 

He doesn’t think he ever caught those words coming out of your mouth. Not even when he was balls-deep in you. 

Multiple times. 

It had only been four months ago when he found you and his long silent heart gained your voice. It was the sweetest, most languid sound that ever graced his ears and in an instant, you became a fleshly sanctuary of serenity. One he would find himself needing more often than he liked because the truth is—Jungkook doesn’t date. 

He considers relationships an unnecessary house of pain. If he spends a long time there, he forgets what the outside world looks like. Forgets how to get home. Forgets the roads and the rules and moralities of life and society because, deep down, he lets go of himself for the girl. 

He would kill a soul if she found herself needing it. Or at least destroy one so she would have a peace of mind. 

Break hands and break noses of people who looked at her wrong. 

That’s who he is and as much as he tried to change it, he failed every time. Failed like the clouds up above. His effort to stay hidden from you vanished into thin air because you would invariably find him and his heart would start praying with your voice. The pathetic thing would beg for mercy from the world. His knees would wobble and he’d let them sink right in front of you—all because of your deeply inert calmness and briskness that would, strangely, pour the nectar of mollification over his bloodstream. 

And he gave in to you because you didn’t ask, nor expect, anything from him. 

You didn’t do what the others did. 

You were independent and so full of life, of a different world, one he wanted to take a peek inside. 

And what he didn’t predict was that the road would be molded for his feet. And once he kissed you and learned the ins and outs of your intellect and the chambers of your heart, he still remembered the streets that line the outside world—its names, even. He remembered the address of his own apartment building, the number to his door and to the pass code. 

And so did you. 

You didn’t ask him to kill for you. And you didn’t ask him for tickets to see your favorite artists. 

He did it because he unreservedly loved you. 

And here you are, giggling, rubbing your little ass up against his groin and he detects happiness prickling his nerve endings. His hands are enveloped, snugly, as if no one was around and the artists traveled across the country for you, around your waist while your hands are up in the air, pointed fingers erect, dipping up and down to the rhythm of the music. 

And what he could never predict, not even in a million years—he’s enjoying himself. Feels the traces of the same vibrations ricocheting off your back into his chest, where the song enlivens him. 

He’s enjoying himself because you are enjoying yourself, brimming with elation and the radiance of your smile as you laugh, dance and scream out curse words that he’s equally enjoying hearing. 

Jungkook makes a mental note to pull those sounds out of you later in the early hours. 

And then you turn around, surprising him. You cup the side of his neck while you point that index finger in his face, screaming out the lyrics. And Jungkook regards it so overwhelming that he can only stare. Doesn’t know the lyrics to scream them back at you and make your experience better, but he’s learning them as he’s consuming them from you, his eyes tracing over each movement of your mouth that engraves them in his brain. He feels your hips moving under his palm at the bottom of your spine and when you roll your body forward, colliding into his like a star that meets its lover once only to never see it again, and brush your lips against his—he’s so horny and so in love with you that his eyes wet, his emotions rushing in and clouding his sight. 

The background fades out, fully, into the charcoal of the night, the colored lights softening and it’s just you that is the distribution of incandescence for the people present—and for him. And then you go down, dragging your hands down his stomach and his thighs, only to spring right up, grab his hips and make that collision happen—against the laws of the universe. 

A different star. A special one. 

Out of his darkened peripheral view, he can sense the audience having a way better time than they did before you turned around to face him. But Jungkook doesn’t give a fuck. 

Not when his cock is so tight in his pants. 

Thankfully, you’re obscuring it with the shape of your delightful body. He thinks he’s going to run with you to his car, pump more adrenaline into your body, so you can refresh the drowsy grass with a pristine layer of dew through the sound of your laughter. He also wonders if you’re wet yourself underneath that gray dress of yours and just as he’s about to lean over and yell that question into your ear, you turn around and get ready for the next song. 

And catch the glance of some guy to your right as you do. Jungkook grits his jaw because you linger for a second longer that he doesn’t particularly like.

A certain fever poisons his veins, but at the same time he feels the pinpricks of a cold sweat at the top of his spine. Who the fuck does he think he is, staring at his girl like that? 

But when he follows that line of the half broken gaze, he finds the guy’s slender face scrunched up in disgust. 

Oh, Jungkook might be ready to throw some hands and get him kicked out of this place, tell the cops it was all him so you can continue enjoying yourself in his arms. He’s seen some people sticking their tongues down their partner’s throat and he’s giving you a dirty look for dancing? 

This can easily be his very last night alive. 

Instinctively, Jungkook bunches up his fists and he’s ready to go after him, but you scream out and emit out your excitement, taking a deep breath to go absolutely mad as the rapper begins to perform the song that he’s heard you jamming out to the most. You take his hands, beaming at him from behind, and uncurl them on your tummy. Your glance was too brief and there’s still a furrow to his brows and now he worries you think he’s being a buzzkill. He doesn’t want to ruin the night for you, so he draws in closer to the crook of your neck and begins to dance, softly, with you. Your hands intertwine with his and you bang them in the air, jumping up and down at the bridge of the song that the headliner hypes up. 

And then you’re singing in a different language and he’s done for, his heart tightening in his chest. The one he’s heard your mother talk in over the phone while you replied in English. Jungkook squeezes you so hard and you let him, your smile growing. Your voice is more throatier and low-pitched and Jungkook senses your foreignness swathing his cock and he knows there’s a bigger tent in his pants. He presses it against you, makes you feel it and you throw your delicious ass. 

His eyes nearly go cross-eyed as he rolls them back, tilting his head. The wind sweeps across the sweat of his exposed forehead, sifting through his hair and he can’t wait any longer. Desire has overpowered the poison in his veins in such a mighty way and he begins to stand in the middle of a crossroad. 

Wait forty five minutes until the rapper finishes the show and then get stuck in the crowd as everyone tries to leave at once. 

Or wait two more minutes and then bolt to the car to fuck your brains out. There’s a higher chance you and him won’t be caught sinning in the backseat. It’s midnight and the villagers are asleep. And in the forty minutes, while everyone enjoys the last show, he can make you come so many times and ascertain that your experience will be heightened and ultimately better. 

He’s also sure you’ll be able to hear him—if he leaves the window open a little bit. 

He’s ready to turn you around, the decision throbbing in his sternum, but you make the move first. Swiveling on your feet, your body faces him, though your head doesn’t. Once again, he follows your gaze. You scowl at the guy, your brows knitting and your glossy mouth rounding before moving into the shape of the lyrics. You throw a dirty look his way one last time and Jungkook laughs in pride, his heart constricting in the love he bears for you, and he pulls you in, disposed to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck and open your mouth just as he kisses you—and it’s you who darts out their tongue, rolling it against his. Jungkook squeezes your bum, slapping it gently—and it’s simultaneous the way you and him both peek at the guy’s reaction. 

The fucker is grinning. 

You give him a vulgar gesture, the moonless blue light enveloping around your middle finger. 

Jungkook laughs so hard that heads turn in his direction and he’s fucking delighted. You devour it with your mouth, sucking his lips so intensely that he stops breathing. He senses you sealing it in him and he can’t wait any longer. 

He needs you and he tells you. 

Breaking the lip lock, he peppers kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear, wafting his hot breath there. He feels the gooseflesh on your arm right upon his ear, too, and electricity courses down his stomach. Fuck, he loves it so much. Thinks you’re so incredible and he wants to fuck that fact into your guts. 

“Let’s get out of here. I want you,” he rasps, drifting his hand up your bum to the ends of your hair, bunching them in his fist. “I want to give you this dick. You deserve it.” 

You suck in a harsh breath and withdraw to look at him. He bites his lip at the way his words painted a palette of such flushed beauty on your face, using colors this festival has never fucking seen. And his mouth ends rise in a prideful smile, not for his ability, but for your body. For the way it’s able to react to him so wonderfully. 

And he blushes when you begin to mouth the lyrics again while dipping to the seat of the amphitheater and sliding his blazer over his shoulders. 

He knows why you did that. 

And you validate his knowledge when you take his hand and lead him away from the concert, keeping close to him just to be cautious. 

You did it to camouflage the evidence of his arousal for you. 

And when you walk by the guy, you let go of his hand. Throw both middle fingers in his face. “You wish you had someone to leave with, huh?” 

The fucker puts his dirty hand on you, stopping you from walking away, and Jungkook doesn’t fucking hesitate. Like a bolt of lightning, he grabs his collar and fumes in his face. 

“What makes you fucking think you can touch my girl, huh? Juk go sip na?” he snarls, shaking him, his Busan dialect impulsively spilling out, darkening his voice and the latter question—‘Do you want to die?’ He watches a tendril of challenge line his eyes with murkiness and what happens next is too fast. 

Too fast for his liking. 

Knuckles collide with his cheek and at the rapid, unexpected and jarring contact, his lip ring cuts his gums. Jungkook grunts at the twinge that overpowers the throbbing on the side of his face, metal percolating through the aftertaste in his mouth, but he doesn’t let go of the guy’s shirt. In fact, he tightens his hold. Seethes. Is about to push him off and leave before things get even uglier, but then he feels your hands on his back and his heart stops, your voice mute, despite the fact your whole face twists in fear and is smeared with harrowing emotions that he’s never seen on you. Shrinks at the sight of your wet, bulging eyes. Of one singular tear grazing your lower lashes in a caress before plopping onto the wildflower meadow of the glitter on your cheek. 

“Get back,” he tells you, despite the swelling of his own emotions at your state of mind. But you don’t comply in time, unclench your fist and step back because far too soon, in the middle of the distraction, another collision bursts in this impenetrable darkness. 

Falling into you or falling for you even deeper, he can’t tell the difference within the numbing pain and his temper coaxes his exceedingly too easy tears to blur his vision. You don’t topple back on your hands, for Jungkook catches you in time with a strength that you somehow help him remember that he possesses. From the force of the guy’s jab, he was only pushed into you, but it doesn’t diminish the grave mistake he made. 

One he will pay for. 

Straightening you, Jungkook guides you towards the edge of the amphitheater and you step back, at last, startled. Turning around, he swings his fist into the guy’s face and he whimpers like a little bitch. 

One hit for your dignity. 

A second one for your tears. 

And the guy would’ve received a third and a fourth one had he not been held back by different pairs of arms all of a sudden. But he shakes them off. Pushes the guy back to his seat. He lands awkwardly on his tailbone with a hard thud and moans in pain. Suits him right for thinking he’s allowed to touch you, make you cry and remain unharmed. 

Jungkook shakes his head, his chest rising with heavy breaths and numbing, adrenaline-infused fury. “Sit here and keep your fucking hands to yourself, gaesaekki. Who the fuck do you think you are, making my girl cry by hitting me?” 

The music cuts out and the rapper hollers. Jungkook turns around and finds all of the attention of the audience and the headliner on him. Doesn’t want to put you on the spot like that, so he rolls his eyes in annoyance, finds your rounded ones and tips his chin further towards the exit, signaling to you to walk that way, so no one gets to look at you. You’re still standing by the edge of the amphitheater with your tear-stained cheeks and his heart aches, though once he sees that you’re covered by the shadows, he lifts a palm towards the stage and strides off, placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you towards the grassy hill. 

People are fucking testing him and he’s not in the mood. Not in the slightest. 

He’d go with his original plan—take your hand and run with you to his car, but he needs to cool off. His anger is sapping all the delight he gained from your microcosm of joy and he doesn’t want to ruin the night more than he already has. Jungkook curls an arm around your neck, tugging you flush to his side as you strut together with no one around. Lifts your chin so he can inspect how you’re feeling on your face. 

Your cheeks are glimmering, damply, carmine in the yellow light, accompanied by the faint burn of the stars up above, but your eyes have lost their great spark and you’re no longer beaming. They trace over his deadened cheek and mouth and you whimper, stopping dead in your tracks and burying your face in his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, a hand stroking his back—and Jungkook feels himself drifting to a state of coma. The rapper’s lines decline the harder you nuzzle your face in his mesh-clad pecs and he can’t move his own hands, can’t hug you back, his panic cascading down his sternum, which he senses your warm weight upon. A ringing noise fills his ears, but he can’t wilt. He has to put you first and make things right. 

But his body doesn’t listen. 

He wills strength into his muscles, lifting his head towards the unmerciful heavens and letting your voice sound out his prayer. You evidently need physical support and emotional reassurement and he can’t give that to you out of his own weakened will. Not when he needs it so despairingly and eminently because he’s hollowed out on the inside. Not when he can’t hear a damn thing owing to the ringing in his ears. 

He can’t ask you for help, so he lets you pray through his heart to his father’s God. 

But nothing happens.

Radio silence. 

White noise. 

A feeble, miniature whine loosens from him. He’s not sure if you heard it and he hopes you didn’t, and for that sole reason—he does the unthinkable. 

He begins to pray with his own voice. 

Because there’s nothing else to do. 

Give me strength. To be there for her and not mess this up more than I already have. Fix me for her and help me make this night better for her. 

The tiniest of lights against your face unbolts ajar in him, vines of the flowers of mitigation blooming from that sliver of open space—right into his arms that abruptly lift and wrap around your shoulders, pulling you as close as humanly possible. 

The ringing lessens. 

And then his lips move. 

He kisses your forehead, dwelling there for a moment, basking in the fact that his prayer worked, and mentally, he ejects the trepidation and agitation away and out of his system, though the fear loiters in his ribcage. The fear that the mistake he made is unfixable. And there’s no thrumming of the bass to distract it. 

What’s worse, his lower regions still ask for a release. He might not be as hard as he was, but the pressure of an ungratified arousal still palpitates in his groin. The unlit disorder of his feelings encourages the blood to pump his cock erect, slowly, and his breath quivers—as well as his body. 

The shakes are back. He knows them, intimately, from his past relationships. Feels the long-gone ghost of abandonment catching up to him—and he fears, terribly, that you’ve somehow learned its ways and you’re about to use them on him because of the way he ruined your night. Cover him from head to toe until his mind numbs and he forgets, foolishly, the direction to his home. 

To solitude. 

He lets go of you and nudges you towards his car. Lets you walk the rest of the short way. But he notices that your forehead, the place he poured his frail love upon, is smudged with blots of blood, the little stars on the arches of your brows crooked and devalued. He’s barely able to get out a cigarette out of his pack and place it in the center of his parted lips, his heart cracking and turning painfully. Though, somehow he does it—he gnites it to life, takes a big drag and hides his hands behind his back. Hides his shakes away from you. Because it’s easier to ruin yourself than it is to give. 

You don’t know about them. And in the four months he’s been dating you, he didn’t have a reason to tell you about them. Thought they were lost for all eternity, the tables turned—them forgetting about him. 

But now he realizes how naive he was. Begs his shoulder to stop trembling from the impact of his deeply-embossed issues. Wishes they were as beautiful as you when you gaze back at him with the weight of your love and he feels it, swiveling to lean against the side of his car. 

It’s a life jacket that straps him down. Abates his shakes. And he’s able to take another drag, pursing his lips in a small ‘O’ when he exhales the smoke, so it doesn’t get near you. 

Your hands are behind your back, too. They support your tailbone against the solidness of the vehicle. It reminds him that he’s glad he hurt the guy, but now he wishes that you weren’t such a delicious brat because he could’ve made you happier and pinker with the amount of orgasms he would’ve given you. Would’ve driven you home and washed you clean. Would’ve made you a late night snack to bed and held you while you replayed the songs in your head. 

Nevertheless, it’s him who needs to be held. 

Foolish, his sensitivity. Another thing you don’t know about. And he’s not too sure, at this very moment, if he’s able to let you in this closely. Let you hold him and stop, ultimately, his shakes. The fear of possibly letting that happen, only to get left behind after, paralyzes him on the spot and even though he can’t breathe, he still manages to flick the ash off his cigarette and puff on it, desperately. Needs the smoke to hold him down, mollify the raging disorder in him—the macrocosm that is too gritty and stony for your delicate feet. 

He allows a full, audible sigh to leave him and he hangs his head, but he shouldn’t have done that. 

Because he divulged to you how fucked up he is. 

You lift a hand to him. “Come here, Oppa.” 

But he can’t. He can’t get close. His legs are numb and the thick-soled boots his feet are shod in are too heavy. His fear keeps them planted that safe distance apart. And Jungkook plays it cool. Licks his lips, lifts his head and sucks on his cigarette. Feels something dripping down his jaw and he wipes his hand on the bone. His cheeks hollow out and the smoke gets in his eyes, stinging them, blurring the spots of blood on his fingers

A different type of wetness coats them now. 

“You wanna go home?” he asks, then cringes at his stupid words. The smoke makes zig zag patterns in the air as his hands shake harder. And then the breath he takes is too difficult. His chin wobbles, the tears rush in and he can’t stop it. “They’re still—” A soft sigh, a whimper. His breathing speeds up because it seems as though his lungs ask for too much air and he can’t inhale enough of it. The tears threaten to pour out and crown his fear. Ruin his life. But he keeps going as if nothing is happening. “Making hot dogs in that food stand over there. The night’s not over.”

And then he’s sobbing, sinking to his knees as his legs give out under all that weight of his issues compressing him. The cigarette burns on the concrete, as abandoned as he soon will be. And his hands feel the rough material of his jeans, needing something to bring him back to a painless reality. He’s tasting blood and the fumes of the smoke and then he sees your sneakers in front of his knees, the pink Calvin Klein shoes that he bought you last week, and he sits back, feels his head being lifted, feels himself being pushed to a point of absolute submission. 

And that’s not something he’s able to stop either. 

You sit down on his thighs, sinking your fingers behind his ears and into his hair, forcing him to look at you and he has to blink multiple times in order for his sight to clear up. Sees, while he whimpers pathetically, his bloodstained, fearful girl seeing him. The real him. The flawed, broken him. 

“Gguk, Ggukie, what’s happening? Talk to me, baby, please.” 

He only sobs. Can’t get a word out. Because you’re here and you’re going to leave him—now that you’ve seen that he’s not a half of the man you pertain him to be. That he’s weak, pathetic and emotional. That he has problems that he doesn’t like to talk about. Unresolved issues that will affect you and guide you out of his life. 

You press him to your neck, holding him to you, and you shush him, gently, rocking him from side to side. Run your wet hand up his hair on the back of his head while the other one rubs large circles on his back. The light opens wider in him—and as he listens to the lullaby of your voice, it distracts him from the fear. It stills the ringing in his ears and blesses his arms with strength that he uses, without thinking, to wrap around you. 

Something lukewarm plops onto the side of his aching cheek as he, little by little, calms down, and he realizes it’s your precious tears. The salt to his wound. 

You’ve cried too much when you should’ve been laughing so hard that you’d be sick from it. 

“What happened? Tell me.” 

Your hand caresses his bad cheek, careful around the bump that your feather-light touch traces, and it’s how he finds out it’s even there. He finds out his bleeding is from his mouth because you wipe at it and clean your fingers on your dress. And then you’re back to stroking his hair, your long fingernails scratching, tenderly, his scalp, spreading alleviation down his body. 

You’re patient and gentle, tolerant and kind, despite the fact you deserve an explanation and he’s unable to give it to you. 

It’s what makes his rationality snap back to normalcy and he tugs your dress down, withdrawing from you and helping you stand to your feet. He’s here to make your night better, not unleash his problems at you. He takes your purse dangling from your hand, replacing it with his palm, and hauls you towards his car. 

But you stay put and he bounces back to you as if he were on a leash. 

And maybe he is—because you stayed at the horrendous scene of his worst. Bound to you in a way that he’s too drowsy to comprehend. Even his fear is tired, scurrying away to some shadowed corner of his soul, instead of attacking him and remaking the scene. 

“Give me my purse back and let me buy you that hot dog,” you say, with a hint of a remarkable harshness that makes him submit to you on a higher level. Something positive that he can’t pinpoint breezes through his clavicles and he wipes his knuckles across his eyes, shyness encasing him like steel—like a shield, giving him the hope that maybe, just maybe, he can overcome this with you. 

You didn’t leave. You didn’t disappear. You didn’t wrinkle your nose. 

You held him. Cleaned the blood off his mouth. Put him, somehow, back together like a puzzle piece. Knew how to do it without needing to look at the full picture. 

He hands you the chain strap of your purse—and it’s more of a symbol of his submission to you. Of the acquiescence and the meekness that you seeped into his pores by your touch. And, oddly, he feels whole. 

His walls are broken down, but he feels whole. Confident, soft, and manly. 

Because he has you and you’re here to take care of him. 

You’re quick on your feet as you yank him by the two of his fingers. He follows behind you, but all he can look at is your pendulous, brown, leather purse, suspended from your small hand, and how that shift of the dynamic in yours and his relationship occurred by that exchange. How it’s felicitous, pretty and sturdy. How he can come back to it and remember it—if he ever wavers. Remember that it’s the cure to his shakes. 

Letting himself be taken care of by you. 

The festival has ended and the ladies at the food stand are packing up to leave. It overwhelms him how much time his issues have stolen, but when he watches you go from nice to bratty in a millisecond, convincing them to make that last hot dog from him because he feels faint and needs some greasy food in order to get home and they comply, his love for you rises sky-high. Your own expression of love for him tidies up the debris from his broken walls and he’s so warm all over that he feels as though he’ll explode. 

You pay for the hot dog and leave a huge tip, thanking them with a smile that makes his heart quiver in a way that is pleasant, good and merciful. You hand it to him and it’s another exchange that wets his eyes, that makes him dip to your mouth and give you a chaste kiss that you more than deserve. You coo, deeply, into the kiss, and it’s a sound that he’s never heard from you. A dominant, prideful sound that stirs the butterflies in his stomach that carry your name on their wings to beat so ferociously that he can’t breathe. 

In a different way now. Pleasant, good and merciful. 

You walk away from the stand and sit with him on the sidewalk. Jungkook lets you have the first bite, sliding your leg over his as he holds the hot dog to your mouth. People are exiting the amphitheater in hefty crowds, but he doesn’t care. Can’t peel his eyes off of you as you open your mouth as wide as you can and take a big bite, whining and fanning your mouth due to how boiling hot it is. He can see the half chewed up sausage on your tongue and if he didn’t love you, he’d look away now, but he can’t because he does love you and your secret, indecent ways enthrall him enough that he can’t help but to kiss you again. Kiss the ketchup and mustard off of your upper lip. Clean you up like you cleaned up his debris. Blow on the sausage in your mouth a little to make you laugh and you do more than that. You chortle so hard that you nearly choke on it and he laughs, too, strangely. 

Thinks the hot dog is the best one he has had in a long time solely because you had that first bite. 

It fuels him with energy, yet he feels lightweight. Feels as though everything’s going to be okay, despite the fact those issues in him are a persisting threat and they can be triggered anytime. But something tells him you can handle it. 

You weren’t afraid to throw your middle fingers in a guy’s face because he had a problem with your public display of affection. Weren’t afraid of Jungkook’s ugliness. Weren’t afraid to fight the ladies so you could fill up his stomach with his favorite food. 

You can handle it. 

It’s all he thinks about as he drives you to his apartment with his hand on your thigh. 

And it’s all he thinks about when he kneels before you while he takes off your sneakers and lingers there, scattering kisses just below the hem of your dress. And you know where this is going because you pull him back by his hair and as he looks up at you like this, a peasant to a queen, his heart hammers so intensively that all he wants to do is cry while he makes love to you. 

He came across his salvation—in the worst of it all. 

“Let me clean you up,” you hush out, and Jungkook doesn’t understand because you already have. Internally. And outwardly all the same. He can’t postpone this any longer. He has to give back to you, give you his gratitude on a silver platter. He needs to do it because if he doesn’t, he’ll crumble. 

“No,” he rasps in a whisper, closing his mouth over the inner of your thigh, placing a singular kiss there before he returns his gaze back to you. “Let me, please.” 

Maybe you can see his desperation in the glossiness of his eyes and it awakens your pity for him, for in a blink you nod, and for the second time today—he doesn’t hesitate to do the next thing. He fists the fabric of your dress and yanks it up over your tummy, nuzzling his nose into your clothed mound. Pink, like your sneakers. 

He inhales you. Inhales the beginning of your arousal—and the beginning of a brand new scene that will color his life in a soft manner. 

Dragging the waistband of your panties down your legs, he tosses them on top of your shoes. Yearns for your legs to part your royalty for him and in order for that to happen, he carries you, bridal-style, over to the white of his bedding. Pretends it’s clouds that he’s laying you down upon because he’s about to make sure he’ll bring heaven down to you. 

The heaven that helped him give back to you earlier in his worst. 

He hooks his fingers under your socks and slides them off, one by one. Makes you sit up to rid you of your dress. Ruins your ponytail in the process, but he quickly fixes it by lugging your hair tie down your length, rubbing his blood away on your forehead with his saliva-coated thumb once he places you back down. 

And it’s not an expression of his dominance, the way he disburdened you from the daytime. That has long ceased to exist in him since that exchange. 

It’s an expression of his servitude to you. 

Of his lessening and your heightening. 

And it’s pleasant, good and merciful. It doesn’t feel as though he’s giving all of himself. On the contrary, it feels as though he has just discovered his true self. 

He won’t forget the address of his home because he’s not staying over anywhere. 

He is at home. 

And your folds revealing your royalty as he spreads your legs is the feeling of homeliness. His mouth on your warm, swollen clit is the epitome of all domesticity and the only thing he can fear at this very moment is his future homesickness if he rips his mouth off your cunt. 

And you getting wet so easily just from being taken care of like a queen confirms and validates all that he’s feeling. 

And he lets you know. 

Peasants are savages and he eats your pussy like it. Sucks on your clit with a verve that surprises him and makes his cock tight uncomfortably in his pants, especially when you make those deep, guttural noises of yours. You’re not the soft girl he knew that omitted swear words in her favorite filthy songs. You’re a vulgar woman, rolling her hips into his mouth as he lets you use his tongue. 

And he stops—just to beg for those words. 

“Let me hear you swear for me, please.” 

You whimper, flopping into the mattress, only to raise your torso using your elbows. You grip the hair on the back of his neck and hump his mouth, but then you suck in a breath and draw back, sobered up all of a sudden. 

“Does your lip hurt?” you ask, rounding your brows in pity and Jungkook’s heart quickens at the portrayal of your care towards him. His senses flick to that faint throbbing on the side of his pierced lip and he perceives that he forgot about his physical pain. His cheek throbs as well, but it’s all bearable. 

You help him remember. 

“It doesn’t hurt, baby.” 

But the hand that gripped his hair slides over to his lip, caressing it with a thumb. “But it’s swollen. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

He also remembers that he was bleeding from the same place and he checks your folds if he spattered them. With the same digit, he runs it over them, finding no taints of it. Sends a quick, internal thank you to God. 

You’re pure—he doesn’t want to mar you. 

“You’re not hurting me. You’re saving me,” he utters without a breath, the words more raw than anything he’s ever said to you, alongside his first, secretly sensitive I love you. And while he doesn’t let his lungs lift, you inhale all of the air for him, wafting it over him as you pout ever so slightly. And then you caress him—the good side of his face and he does something he’s never expected to do. 

He invites you in. 

Rests his head on the apex of your thigh while you continue to brush your hand in circles. Over his cheekbone, his temple, long strands of hair and ear. An ouroboros of love so unsullied and intact that the world’s upcoming destruction could never afflict it, never even come near it. Jungkook pushes your leg back and darts out his tongue. Mirrors your circles over your clit and the gentleness he uses to do it with pull such alluring moans from the bottom of your throat that he’s nearly at the peak of his own orgasm. 

And it just makes him hungrier. 

He turns you over to your side and closes that leg of yours over his head. Flattens his tongue over your clit and eats it like his life depends on it, one hand holding yours while the other slips to your heat, rubbing the hole until you go mad. And he’s not holding your hand to keep you bound. He’s holding your hand to keep his sanity and not come in his pants like a boy. 

You move your hips so his fingers enter you and you scream out at the sudden fullness. Jungkook drips in sweat, your walls slowly stretching around him sending tingles down his spine, and he’s moaning when you fuck yourself on his digits. 

It doesn’t take long for you to come. 

It is the final piece to your own puzzle and your orgasm thunders through you, the swear words tumbling out of your mouth like refreshing raindrops. You interweave them into his name, adorning it, making it prettier, and Jungkook is so overwhelmed with pleasure that all he can do is suck on your clit until you convulse so hard that you can’t take it anymore.

You may have lost your spark earlier, but now that you’ve come so magnificently, you’ve become it. The star of light isn’t something that gets attached to your eyes whenever you’re happy anymore. 

You’re the queen of all firelights and constellations. 

He lets you lie on your side as he hauls himself up to face you. He touches your skin besprinkled with the beads of perspiration, kneading the fleshy parts and ending up at your neck. Your eyes are closed when he reposes his head on his pillow besides yours and he detects his pleasure creating a new kind of joy within him, one that etches a lopsided smile on his face. 

You said the words for him while your orgasm coursed through your body. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Thank you,” he whispers against your lips, kissing you with a certain roughness that makes you whine and withdraw. You give him a playful dirty look, fragrant with your love, and Jungkook’s smile deepens. 

“Gentle,” you reprimand, fluttering your eyes back shut. “Don’t be a masochist.” 

He laughs through his nose, his heart constricting, and he kisses you with the gentleness you spoke of just to show you he can do it. 

You hum in appreciation and Jungkook thinks this must be the best day of his life, despite all. 

“There we go,” you praise, sleepily. “Gentle, so your boo-boo doesn’t hurt.” 

He caresses your face in circles in your fashion, watches you visibly relax and your eyes close all the way, your eyelashes brushing against him. His sleep-kissed queen. 

“You wanna sleep?” he asks, fondling the shell of your ear. He doesn’t mind if you’re too tired to take him; he’s willing to study the way your mouth parts and lets out long, restful breaths as you drift off to dreamland. 

He thinks it would be an honor. 

Everything had changed. The way he sees you, the way he loves you, the way he senses yours and his connection. The pupils of his eyes have been purified and he’s acknowledging himself with the ins and outs of his own relationship. 

Everything is new. 

You shake your head, humming out a sound of disagreement. “No, give me a second. You made me come really hard.” 

He nods, even though you can’t see him, and he sifts his fingers through your hair. Trails his kisses from your cheek to your neck and shoulder, dwelling there as you recuperate from your intense orgasm.

And then you’re swinging your leg over and straddling him. Your lids are so heavy from your little eye-shut that he silently coos at you, but your tiredness doesn’t stop you from mouthing kisses down his mesh-clad chest. From unbuckling his belt and freeing him from his pants. The mesh shirt is the only thing you keep on him. You bunch up its hem in your fist, stabilize his cock with your other and you swallow him. 

Not all the way, though. 

You rid him of his sanity because you pop your mouth, over and over, on the tip of his manhood. He feels the sound deep in his groin, right beneath your hand, and his chest can’t help but to shudder with each suction, his face scrunching. He unabashedly whimpers for you and you like his noises so much that you give him what he never asked you for. 

You do take him all the way. 

And your throat is your scent floating through the air of yours and his home. 

Heady, oriental and feminine. 

You slobber all over him, running your tongue sideways upon the veins along his length and Jungkook slinks in and out of his conscience. The pleasure you’re blessing him with brings him to a rose garden when you gag around him. The pink petals tickle his stomach, encouraging his shudders, and all he sees is you in the middle of that garden. A mighty statue of its queen—with a mouthful of cock. 

And then he has to physically pull you away from him because if he felt the tightness of your throat one more time, he’d be spurting ropes of cum down your esophagus. 

You’re feral, staring him down with a maddened smile, returning to your original position on his hips. And as delighted as he is to have you be in charge, he remembers something. 

He hasn’t put a condom on. 

“Wait.” 

Jungkook holds your waist as he rummages in his bedside table and once he finds the package he was looking for and rattles it, he finds it empty. Cold sweat trickles down the back of his neck, but he remembers something else as well. 

“Did you not put it in your purse?” he asks, the scene where he hands you the last square of the rubber for you to keep in your purse in case you get in the mood during the festival shooting out before his eyes. 

You nod. “Yeah, I think so. Can you go get it?” 

He sits up with you and kisses you, gently, prolonging the kiss until you whine and he thinks twice before provoking you. He can’t help it—you just keep saving him. 

Walking through your corridor, he sees your pink sneakers first, embellished with your panties of the same color. A smile tugs at the aching corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t mind. Thinks it heightens the experience. Bending to pick up your brown purse that he set beside your shoes, the time seems to slow down as he’s reminded of the exchange out there in the countryside. The shift of dynamics that liberated him. Jungkook grows emotional, his feelings liquifying and prickling his eyes. 

And it’s automatic and absolutely instinctual—the way he dips his mouth and kisses the leather material. 

Gently. 

Opening it, he fishes out the white square and hangs your purse on the hook among his jackets. Gives it a long, meaningful look before he returns to you. 

And you’re the one who wants to put it on him. You’re so diligent, tugging the peak of the rubber multiple times so you’re unequivocally certain that you did it right. And when you tug him, he whimpers so inferiorly that you emulate his hunger. 

You depict it so eloquently when you fight through your residual overstimulation and sink down on him, little by little. And the more inches your walls squeeze around, the more his new role settles within him. 

Peasant with his queen. 

You ride him like it. 

You bounce on him with such hard thuds that it provokes the pressure in his groin. His balls tighten so rapidly and the cinematic view of your breasts slapping against each other doesn’t really help slow down the incoming explosion of his orgasm. A glistening ring forms around his cock from your slick—and Jungkook genuinely considers, right here, right now, buying you a promise ring that will be an eternal reminder of this sublime salvation. 

And you’re as aware of the shift as he is because once you reposition your weight onto your feet, you pin his hands back and use them as leverage. Intertwine your fingers with his. His vision gets filled with spots of white. You clamp down on him with each stroke and even though he can’t move, he feels unshackled. There’s no ending to his moans. He’s so close, the pressure deepens in his groin, and he needs one more thing. 

One more thing and he’s done. 

“Kiss me,” he rasps, and you slow down, crying out, your orgasm catching up to you just the same, but he needs your attention, so he begs. “Please, baby. Kiss me.” 

Lowering yourself onto your knees, you lean forward. “Fuck, I love it when you beg. I’d give you anything you ever wanted.” 

His stomach spasms. Your nipples sail over his chest and you shudder, the mesh fabric stimulating you, and then you’re swirling your tongue around the arc of his open mouth. 

Teasing him, like the vulgar, bratty woman you are. 

Extra careful around the lip ring and his swollen flesh, healing it in a way. 

Jungkook whines your name. “Please.” 

You kiss him just once, but he needs more. Lifts his head off the pillow, chasing your mouth. You begin to swirl your hips in circles on the tip of his cock, just like your tongue, and the intense pleasure he gets from it forces him to bang his head back. 

You go for his neck. His collarbone. His nipple. 

And Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. 

His orgasm bursts in his groin and all the roses in the garden swell with freshness. He imagines he’s filling you up, instead of the condom and it elevates the momentous shocks of the explosion descending down all of his nerve endings. He hiccups and that’s it for you. You let go of his hands to massage your clit and you follow him out into that garden, his name and curse words trickling out of your mouth that lowers to his in a final, years-long kiss. 

His last rope oozes out of him at the feeling of your soft, wary tongue and he wants to weep due to the density of your care. More shrubs of roses bloom around your statue in that garden—and once again, he can’t peel his eyes off of you. 

Can’t stop brushing your hair back to see more of you. More of your rose-flushed complexion. More of the spark of your being that irradiates you from within. More of your care and love. 

And you give it to him. 

You wash out the dried blood on his face in the shower. Brush his teeth with extra care, which makes it more than difficult for him to stifle his tears. He lets you be a witness to his sensitivity and you welcome it, cradle it, hold him while the toothpaste foam numbs his achy lip. And it scares his fear away, most peculiarly. 

You hold him in bed, too, amidst the crisp, flower-scented linen of his fresh bed sheets, and you apologize. 

“I’m sorry for what happened tonight. If I hadn’t said a thing, you wouldn’t have ended up bruised and swollen,” you croak out, shifting the cold compress lower on his face, and you break into tears that trigger his. He had wished you weren’t a brat, but for a far different reason, and he tells you. 

“It’s an honor to get punched in the face for you.” He smiles through his tears and you sigh, removing the cold compress. “But I did wish things ended differently. I wanted to fuck you in my car. Keep the window open so you would hear your favorite rapper. But if things went according to my plan, you wouldn’t have healed me.” 

You sniffle, your eyes rounding at the onrush of your tender emotions, and Jungkook watches the waterfall of your tears. His own flows and mingles with yours, joining in unity. 

“What happened to you when we left?” you ask and Jungkook knows he wouldn’t avoid this question for long. Deems you deserve to know because of all what you’ve done for him. And he readies himself, pausing before he bares himself, fully, to you. 

“I got into panic mode because I blamed myself for ruining your night and…” he trails off, aware of the fact he needs to be more specific, and he takes a deep breath, wiping his tears with one hand before slapping it back on the duvet. “I have a constant fear that the people I care for will eventually leave me,” he explains and a wisp of pride envelops his bones for managing to get those words out for the first time in his life. You snuggle closer to his side, placing your head on his shoulder, and he gazes down at you. His fingers find your ear on their own and it comforts him enough, to touch you like that, that he’s able to continue. “I got left behind a lot of times in my past, which is why I swore off love. It just hurt too much and I stopped having the capacity for it. And when we left the concert, I thought you’d leave me, too, after what I’d done.” 

You press the cold compress back to his cheek. “I could never leave you, you’re mine,” you whisper, and another stream of tears soaks through the dish towel wrapped around frozen vegetables. Jungkook doesn’t take your words for granted. He puts great meaning to them and hides them, safely, in his sternum. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t ruin my night. It was all me and for that I’m sorry.” 

He squeezes your arm. “Don’t be sorry,” he says and means it. Lifts his head and plants a cold kiss to your lips. 

Gentle. 

“I love you, Ggukie. It’s me who should be fighting for you now.” 

Jungkook laughs through his nose. “No, I’ll keep protecting my queen.” One more kiss, gentler. “I love you,” he adds and means it. 

And he falls asleep like this. With you clinging to the side of his body while keeping the cold compress intact and unmoving with your forehead. One that he removes in the middle of the night and warms up the iciness of your skin by smothering it with his body heat. 

Returns to the rose garden and gapes at the statue of you, hand in hand with you—as a changed person, a sensitive, flawed and submissive person that is loved and accepted. 

Finds it hard to believe even in his dream. 

And you’re there when he wakes up. 

Drooling, indecent and vulgar as you are. And he wouldn’t want anyone else.

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff, @kam9404.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[theautisticwriter]

Love Letters: Yandere! Helluva Boss characters X G/N Reader

Characters- Blitzø, Moxxie, Millie, Loona, Stolas, Asmodeus, Fizzarolli

Show- Helluva Boss

Genre- romantic, yandere

Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!

Warnings- swearing, pet names, yandere themes, mentions of planned kidnapping, stalking, delusional characters, unwanted attention

Word count- 1.5K

Extra notes- I have a Hazbin Hotel version of this uploaded as well!

key: f/l = first letter of your name, y/n = your name, n/n = your nickname

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By this point you know who it is y/n, I’m the only person COOL enough to send u romantic as fuck letters like the old people do

Sorry for eating the food u made last night, when i was raiding ur fridge it looked so fucking good (and it was, who knew u could cook :P). i left u a pony as a replacement, u can’t eat it but it’ll make u think of me ;) and that pony cost me a FUCK ton of money, collectors addition and shit. i know, bad fucking ass right??

the stupid shitty loud alarm u installed didn’t work when i came in, ud be much safer with me and loony. that’s the plan anyways babe, u have NO idea the fucking creeps that live down here, they’re all fucking animals and ur…not, a fucking asshole i guess.

i drew you smth (it’s the thing stuck on the back of the envelope with the glitter glu)

^glue

it’s me and u holding hands, like other couples do. we’re better than those corny fuckers tho, hence the crowns on our heads.

ignoring my texts, BLOCKING ME (still upset about this BY THE WAY) and then ignoring my very nice letters is kinda a dick move f/l, but it’s whatevs. everything is almost ready for ur move in. i cleaned up n everything :D

from the only bitch worth ur time,

blitzø

<3 (ignore that, moxxie threw a gun at me and my hand slipped, might fire him)

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Hiya sweet cheeks!!!

It’s Mills here, just checking in! Via letter! Ain’t that just the fanciest little thing? Mox said it’s the best way to show thought and care to someone, so here’s all my thoughts and care, just for you!

How’ve you been? Good I hope, I’ve been just peachy thanks for asking! My Ma and Pa are super excited to meet ya one day, they’ve even started planning the wedding! Now I told them to slow their horses down, and not the overwhelm ya, we’ll get to that don’t you worry darlin.

Im just so excited to write this letter for you! Ain’t it so romantic?? I’m practically squealing in delight at the thought of you opening this and swoonin’, that’s what you’re doing, right?

Now i’m writing this on my break, and my boss really needs me back in the game! I got employ of the month! Most amount of kills, with the best and bloodiest results baby!

Until next time sweetheart,

Your Mills! ♡

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Hi y/n,

It’s Moxxie here, I was a little nervous to send this letter to you, but I always try to follow my heart, and my heart was telling me to communicate with you in the most romantic way I know how due to our current circumstances of being so far away. It’s hard, for the both of us i’m sure, but we’ll be okay y/n.

As much as I don’t get along with my father, he has been helpful with my preparations for your arrival. It’s a big deal, moving in together. I’m sure your anxious, I am too, but in the best way possible. Love is pure, and can make somebody feel whole, it’s a wonderful feeling. I never want that to be taken away from me, and you are the source of all my love. That’s why we need to be together, being only half a demon isn’t good for the soul.

We can do lots of fun things together as well, like go to the opera, or to musicals, or I can show you my shooting skills. My boss says that I have a pretty good shot, which is the biggest compliment he’s ever given me. And we can do things you like too, marriage is equal of course. Obviously, this will all happen later done the line, you’ll need time to adjust, and I understand that. I understand you.

I’m running out of room on my page, but I will write to you again tomorrow. Please respond? Just once, y/n? It’d be nice, to hold something from you since I can’t hold you yet.

All my love,

Your Moxxie <3

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Uh, hi?

Wait, you don’t put ‘uh’ in letters do you? Or put wait whilst you think, fuck shit fuck

Sorry, I’m new to this. Normally I just send a text to people but, your phone is off at the moment I think? Or you lost it? Or you blocked me?

Either way, I’ll send you these stupid letter things until it’s back on. So, uh, what are you up to? Blitz has been up my ass about meeting you, heads up, when I come get you and bring you to our room he’s gonna go all psycho dad mode and integrate you, but he’ll back off after a while. He’s a dick sure, but he does want me to be happy. And your, likeable or whatever, so i’m sure you’ll get along.

Once you get comfortable at home with me, Blitz said you could work with me at I.M.P. You’ll be like the co-secretary or something. You won’t be put in danger, I won’t let that happen, you’ll just get to sit with me. We can watch things together, if you wanted.

I guess i’ll see you soon, how do you end these?

See you,

Love from,

Regards?

Bye y/n,

Loona.

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My dearest y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I yearn for your presence here, besides me. It’s quite lonely without you, I will admit my dear. It would be oh so wonderful if you could write back. I understand you may be preoccupied with your current activities, but I can’t help myself from desiring a response. I know, it’s selfish of me to expect you to reply to my letters when you’ll be here with me shortly, but I can’t keep my thoughts at bay at the moment.

Your face is a constant in my mind, night and day, asleep and awake, your voice in my mind calms me when I need it most, your smile brightens the bleariest of moments and so on. You can imagine the difficulties I’m facing with no response from you, but that’s alright. If you can’t write back to me dear, I won’t pressure you. Your time is precious, and we will have all the time in hell quite soon. Isn’t that exciting?

I can give you the life you deserve n/n, any luxuries or mundanities you wish for will be handed to you on a silver platter. Or a golden one, if that’s more to your liking? We can properly discuss the specifics once we are together. How thrilling, the though of you and I together at last.

We truly are written in the stars!

Yours until the end of the sky and then some,

Stolas.

———————————————————

Hey there baby,

It’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry if you feel neglected babe, it’s so hard keeping in contact with you when you’re so far away hun. Wouldn’t it be so much better if you were here with me? Sure I’ve got a lot of meetings, being a sin and all, but I’d be at your beck and call n/n, you could even be my new excuse to leave those awful “business” discussions. They barely talk business with me, it’s just complete bullshit babe.

I know the lust ring can be intimidating, we have quite the reputation, but I assure you, love is not a foreign concept to me. Romance is one of my most favourite things! Though that’s a secret, let’s keep that between us, yeah? That side of me is reserved for you n/n.

It’s so boring over here without you, I feel like i’m just lounging around and last time I checked, I was the lust sin, not the sloth sin. We’d have so much fun together babe! Can’t you picture it? Even if you can’t yet, I can wait. Having you near me will be enough, you are enough just as you are.

Sincerely yours,

Asmodeus (Ozzie) xoxo

———————————————————

Heya cutie!

Letters are a lot harder to write than I thought they’d be y’know? I’ve rewritten this like 16 times already, sheesh. It just feels so awkward, I can’t see your reaction to my words which means I can’t fix any mistakes I’ve made :(. I’m sure I haven’t made any though! Right? This letters going really well so far and is definitely wooing you, right, y/n?

Hah, I’m asking questions as if you can reply right away. Silly old me, I don’t know what i’m worrying about! We’re meant to be together. I know it’s super sappy, but we’re like soulmates. Soulmates are bound to be together! That’s why I’m bringing you home soon, I can’t wait! I’ve got sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many awesome tricks to show you!

And, the best news, I quit my job!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ ༘⋆-ˋˏ This means, we will have a LOT more time with each other, and you don’t have to worry about Mammon being possessive over me, because fuck him! I’m my own clown! Or, well, your clown.

I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be great for us, I pinky promise :P

Love from,

Fizzarolli !!!! ༘⋆!!,-!ˋˏ!!!

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[hargreeves-duncan]

Hello! I know that you’ve been getting a lot of Five requests, so I hope this isn’t over doing it, but can I request Five x reader where they get to Hotel Oblivion (s3), reader gives him like, a spa day? Just because reader knows he bf went through so much to make sure they’re all safe and wanted to make sure he’s okay and well taken care of

a/n: anon, i love you for requesting this, you’re not overdoing it at all! this was super sweet to write!! hope you all enjoy some piping fresh (and not very well proof-read) content😚

summary: self-care at the end of the world

warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, swearing

word count: 2.6k

The end of the world as you know it is no easy pill to swallow, and for a man who had spent his entire life trying to put a stop to it, it’s even less so. Since the identification of the Kugelblitz, Five hadn’t stopped running around, searching for every solution to prevent the apocalypse. So far, he had found nothing.

Lately, he had been shorter with everyone, and you were determined to do something to help him relax. After all, he had put so much into keeping you and his siblings safe all these years, most of the time at his own expense. You wanted to find the perfect way to comfort him, and you had just the plan to do so.

That morning, you came downstairs to the lobby, bright and early. Despite this fact, Five was already up and ready - perched at the bar with a cup of coffee.

You approached him with a warm smile on your face, “Good morning!”

He looked up, and his face softened almost immediately, “Good morning to you too.”

Just before you hopped onto the stool beside him, he tugged it closer to his own. He looked you up and down with an amused smile, “You look extremely chipper this morning.”

“That’s because I am.” You smiled proudly as you placed a keycard on the table.

He raised an eyebrow, sceptically, examining the keycard, “417? What exactly is this for?”

“For a room here.” You continued and he smirked slightly.

“Love, you do realise that we already have a room here? One that we’ve been sleeping in for the last four days?” He said, gently tapping the corner of the keycard on the table to justify his point.

“No, well, yeah, but this room is different. It’s the spa.” You said, eyes flickering up to meet his nervously. You couldn’t help but fear that he would think you an idiot for even suggesting it.

“I suppose, one day of relaxation couldn’t hurt.” Five mused, sitting up. He looked down at you, noticing how increasingly excited you grew as he spoke.

He sighed, smiling to himself, “Alright, I’m in. Should be a nice break for the two of us.” He said, leaning down to peck your cheek.

You grinned excitedly, biting your lip, “Okay, you keep that.” You said, pointing at the keycard still grasped between Five’s fingers, “I’m going to go set everything up, so, come up in like… twenty minutes?”

He watched as you got down, hurrying away hastily to prepare. He nodded, chuckling, “Alright, twenty minutes. Got it.”

**************************************************

Twenty minutes later, the door to the spa opened, and Five found you standing, looking like a proud child beside their science fair project, in the totally transformed room.

You had decorated it with sprinkles of confetti and tiny, heart-shaped specks of glitter. It looked like something out of a rom-com, but since you were the one who put it together, Five couldn’t care less how cliche it was.

The wooden table beside you had a red tablecloth placed over it, and on top of that, a wooden tray with two porcelain mugs, a teapot, two champagne flutes, a rather expensive-looking bottle of champagne, and a little note.

Five was almost sure that you had written some sweet notion on it.

Or, better yet, perhaps it was a quote from the latest book you had been reading. He had been the one to recommend it to you, of course. It was a collection of translated French poetry. Some might say pretentious, he said romantic.

Peering into the neighbouring rooms, Five could see the equipment you had carefully prepared for the day’s spa treatments. He knew you must have put a lot of thought into what would be on your itinerary.

As he took everything in the room in, his heart swelled with affection for you. For his entire life, he had tried so hard to make sure that everyone was cared for all the time, especially you, and seeing you put in all this effort just for him had him feeling more grateful than ever that he had you by his side.

“Thank you,” he said gently as he took your hands into his, fingers tracing over your knuckles.

“You’re welcome.” You beamed up at him. He brushed your hair away from the side of your face to cup it with one hand. He pressed a delicate kiss to your lips, and as he slipped his hand down, reaching for your hip, he instead met cloth.

He pulled back, raising an eyebrow, and then glanced down at the bathrobe in your hands that you were holding up to him, like an offering, as you grinned, “Here, you have to have the whole spa treatment.”

“Oh? The whole spa treatment, huh? Okay.” He chuckled fondly, taking the robe from you, “And will you be joining me in wearing this get-up?” He asked with a sly smile as he began to get changed into the robe.

“Of course.” You hummed, sliding your shirt off and slipping into a robe of your own. When Five turned back around, the two of you were matching in your fluffy white gowns. The sight of you was, certainly, a pleasant one.

“What’s first on the agenda then, oh, wife of mine?” Five smiled, hands slipping around your waist.

“Mm…” You paused, thinking about it, your mind a little hazy under his touch. Your gaze drifted back to the table, “Drinks.” You said decisively, making your way to them.

“What do we have here then?” He didn’t truly need to ask; you had told him more times than he could count about the herbal tea they served at your local spa, but he loved listening to you talk, so he asked anyway.

“This is that herbal tea I was telling you about! I didn’t think that I would be able to find any, but they had a bunch of it stocked up in the back room!” You gushed.

“Well, isn’t that just perfect?” Five smiled, pecking your lips again as he slung an arm around your shoulder, “And the champagne?”

“I don’t know, it just felt like a spa-y drink.” You laughed softly, and he chuckled, pulling you closer.

“I see….” He smirked fondly, pecking your cheek. You rolled your eyes, smiling.

“You know what I mean, though, don’t you?” You asked him, noticing his condescending tone.

He nodded, smiling, “I do.”

You nodded approvingly and poured a glass for each of you. You slipped a flute into his hand.

Five took a sip of his champagne, savouring the taste. Then, he looked down at you, mischief swirling in his eyes, “There is something I have to ask about.” He took another sip, “In terms of spa treatments, that is.”

You hummed as you sipped your own drink, tilting your head to the side. His thumb rubbed your shoulder, voice lowering an octave as he leaned closer, “The sauna. Is that set up, or…?”

You nodded, smiling shyly as you leaned into him, “It is set up. No spa day is complete without the sauna.”

“Of course not.” He smiled, kissing your jaw gently. He stood up slightly and adjusted his robe, “Shall we?”

“We shall.” You nodded, walking beside him into the room. He closed the door behind you, and the warm steam encompassed you instantly. You hummed pleasantly and slipped off your bathrobe; Five did the same.

You took one of the towels and slipped it over your body, sitting down. Five watched you do so and soon joined you.

You closed your eyes and felt the heat begin to seep into your muscles, melting away the tension and stress. You could only hope that it was doing the same for Five.

He sat down next to you, his thigh brushing against yours. He stretched his arms above his head, sighing deeply. "This is exactly what I needed," he muttered, closing his own eyes.

You hummed in agreement, leaning your head back against the wall. "It's nice, right? Relaxing?”

Five opened his eyes and glanced at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

"It is," he murmured, his gaze roaming over your figure, covered only by the towel. He slipped his hand into yours.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while. You stole a glance at Five, his skin glistening with sweat, chest rising and falling with steady breaths.

He caught you looking, and a small smirk tugged at his lips, “Enjoying the view?"

You rolled your eyes, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks. "Just enjoying the moment," you replied nonchalantly.

He chuckled, sarcasm creeping into his voice, "Of course," his voice became softer, "Completely innocent enjoyment."

“Mhm.” You nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder. Five put his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His hand began to rub soothing circles on your back.

His touch sparked an idea in your mind, and you sat up straighter. You pushed his hands away and smiled at him, “Turn around.”

“What exactly do you plan on doing back there, love?” He asked, with a grin, as he turned.

You watched the ripple in the muscles of his back, strained. You reached up, hands gliding over his skin comfortingly.

“…’m going to give you a massage.” You simpered, pressing your hands deeper into his back. Five groaned appreciatively, practically melting under your touch.

“Lean forward a bit for me.” You gently tapped his back and he obliged instantaneously, with a soft groan.

You saw the tension in his shoulders lessen as your hands dug into the tight muscles, finding the right pressure to soothe the knots.

"You're really tight right here," you murmured, your hands pressing more forcefully into his back.

He inhaled sharply as his shoulders released their tension, “Yeah, well, that comes with trying to stop the apocalypse for two weeks straight,” he grumbled.

You pressed a gentle kiss to the centre of his back, “You shouldn’t push yourself so much,” you chided gently, continuing to work out the knots in his back.

Five let out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a sigh. “Easier said than done, love. There is always something that requires me to push myself with this family.”

“I know.” You soothed softly, moving your hands to a particularly tense muscle near his shoulder blades. “I still wish you would, at least, try to take better care of yourself, though.”

He hummed noncommittally, lost in the sensation of your delicate touches, “I take care of myself just fine…” he muttered, relaxing further under your touch.

“Five.” You said pointedly, pressing down on his back. He hissed.

“Fine, fine… maybe I don’t always take the best care of myself…” He admitted under his breath. His head lolled back with another sigh of pleasure at your touch.

You pecked his shoulder gently. You sat forward and your hands slipped away from his aching muscles and around him in a hug from behind, “You need to be more careful with yourself.”

“The fate of the world shouldn’t be resting on your shoulders.”

Five looked at you over his shoulder, eyes softening. He turned around and pulled you close, his forehead coming to rest against yours in a self-soothing gesture. He was quiet for a moment, contemplating your words.

He knew that you were right, but it was hard to accept that this shouldn’t have been the way things were when it’s how they’d been for as long as he could remember.

He sighed again, his breath warm against your cheek. “It feels like it’s been my responsibility for so long that I don’t know how to let it go.”

You held him closer, wrapping your arms around him affectionately. You pressed another gentle kiss to his shoulder.

“I’m not asking you to let it go, Five.” You murmured quietly, shaking your head. “I’m asking you to let yourself share that burden. You can suffer but you don’t have to do it alone.”

"I’ll try,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t promise it will be easy, but I'll try.” He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“Trying is all I could ever ask for.” You smiled gently, pecking his lips and cradling his face between your hands. Your eyes searched his and suddenly you were all too aware of how long you’d been in the sauna.

Five closed his eyes briefly, relishing the feel of your hands caressing his face.

The steam had made his skin glistening and warm and you could feel the heat in his cheeks, “We should probably get out… we’ve been in here for quite a while.”

Five nodded, smiling to himself, “Good call.” He said, gently helping you up with a pat to your hip.

You gathered your things and stepped out of the sauna. You glanced back over at Five as he pushed his hair out of his eyes, “We can always go in the pool, cool off for a bit.”

Five looked over at you, his eyes still soft from your comfort. He nodded at your suggestion, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Lead the way, love.”

You padded softly across the room and to the pool. You placed everything at its side and eagerly stepped in, becoming embraced by cool, crystal water.

The contrast from the sweltering confinement of the sauna to the pool made you sigh pleasurably.

Five followed shortly after you, wading into the pool with you, the water lapping softly at his chest. He let out a sigh of relief as the water soothed his skin.

“You were right,” he noted as he swam closer to you. “This was definitely the right call.”

“Nice and cool.” You nodded in agreement, swimming over to his side.

“Mm…” Five pulled you closer to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist so that his chest was flush with yours.

He leaned down, his lips finding their way to your neck and placing a few stray kisses there. You leaned into his touch, gratefully, feeling your body grow sleepy under his affections.

His arm around your waist tightened, as he pulled you even closer to him. His voice was low as he spoke, "You look so relaxed, love," he purred, his fingers tracing lazy patterns up and down your back.

“Well, that is the point of going to a spa.” You hummed with a smirk. Five held you against him, leaning his back against the wall of the pool behind him.

Five chuckled, relishing the feeling of your warmth against him, and the cool water now enveloping you both, "Indeed it is..." he agreed, "And it seems to have worked on the both of us."

“Good. I’m glad.” You smiled fondly, pecking his lips twice over.

He returned your smile, his lips finding yours again… and again. Each kiss was more eager than the last. He tightened his hold on you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him.

You felt your cheeks going warm as you clutched his shoulder for support.

A thundering crash sounded from the corridor. Five pulled back, immediately wary. He squinted at the doorway.

It was silent for a few moments, when the door flew open and Luther stumbled in, out of breath from his haste.

“Jesus! Luther!” Five cursed, turning you around and shielding you from view with his body. Your hands wrapped tighter around him in embarrassment.

“Woah… uh… sorry. Family meeting. It’s important so… you know… if you could both meet us in the bar as quickly as possible...” Luther said, casting a cautious glance between the two of you, cuddled up in the pool.

“Yeah, alright, amazing, thank you, Luther.” Five said, sounding entirely unamused.

When Luther made no attempt to leave, Five raised an expectant eyebrow at him, "Do you mind?" he said.

"Oh! Right, sorry, yeah." Luther smiled awkwardly, excusing himself and walking out of the room. Once his footsteps receded, Five groaned.

"Can't I get one fucking day off?" he sighed, head dropping against your shoulder.

[shdysders]

insecurities

pairing: vada cavell & female reader

summary: in which vada makes an offensive comment about your appearance, knowing you already hated it.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: serious topics, body image, body shaming comment, alcohol poisoning.

author’s note: remember that words don’t define you, you’re beautiful just the way you are and do not need to change yourself.

the ending on this one is rushed, i’m sorry about that. also sorry if you guys don’t like this idea, it was just smth that popped into my mind.

Shopping with Vada was absolutely pointless.

She would complain about everything and nothing. About her feet hurting, about how she didn't have enough money for new things, or how she found it completely unnecessary to buy clothes when she already had enough.

You had spent multiple times with Vada in countless malls, walking through different stores, listening to her complaining all the time, whining like a child and nag about it being boring.

This time you had suggested for Vada to bring Mia along, for company while you tried things on. You thought it would make things easier for you; not having to deal with your child like girlfriend.

However you were wrong.

You were at the local mall alongside Mia and Vada, shopping for dresses who would be appropriate for your birthday party. You were really excited; two people were there to help you pick.

Although they didn't help. They were too busy talking and gossiping about losers at school to even notice the dresses you were showing.

You could understand that this probably wasn't the most exciting thing to do, but you thought they would at least pay attention, considering Vada was your girlfriend, and Mia was one of your closest friends.

You had been gushing about this party for months, so you didn't understand why they were suddenly so uninterested.

"What about this one?" You spoke, trying to drown out their loud conversation with your own voice.

Vada didn't listen for one bit. She only turned her head when Mia did so, only because it ended their dialogue.

"That one's pretty." Mia said, adoring gaze scanning the dress.

The dress was black with floral design that covered the whole fabric. The fabric was lightweight and flowy. You felt pretty, it suited you very well.

"It's alright." Vada said not long after, her lips formed in a thin line, there was frustration in her voice, like she was mad at you for interrupting their talk.

This was the second dress you tried on and Vada was already bored and frustrated, you could tell. She wasn't exactly hiding it.

You decided it'd be for the better to just hurry up, even though that wasn't what you had planned. You didn't want to waste their time.

Nodding your head, taking their answers into consideration, before turning around to get into the next dress.

This one was your favorite.

Navy blue with an open back, glitter decorating the whole dress. It was tight, rather short as well, but you felt sophisticated in it. Pretty. Gorgeous in fact. Which was rare for you.

You smiled to yourself in the mirror, prepared for Vada and Mia to liking just as much as you.

However, when you pull the dressing room curtain to the side, they didn’t even bother to turn their heads to look at you. They were way too busy talking yet again.

They were laughing about something. And a strange feeling in you were saying that it was either about you or the dresses you were showing. 

You stood there dumbfounded for a minute, waiting for them to turn their attention to the clothing piece. But they didn't.

"Vada?" You called out, since her opinion was the one that really mattered. 

She still didn't turn her head, although you knew she heard you. You could tell by the way her head slightly turned, her eyes not leaving Mia as she talked. You couldn't even bother to listen to what they were saying.

Seconds later she put her hand up, signaling for you to wait for her to finish listening, and for Mia to stop talking. Which at this point, could take ages.

You were starting to grow tired of her ignorance. She always did this whenever Mia was around. Sometimes she would find subjects to talk about that you couldn't be included in on purpose, either that or you just couldn't relate.

Her name fell from your lips again, and this time her head snapped in your direction, nothing but exasperation painting her face. "What?"

The previous smile on your face fell once you heard the harsh tone in her voice. "Could you at least look at it?"

Vada's gaze was burning onto your skin, she was looking at you as if you just told her that she had to be quiet for the rest of the year.

You couldn't put a finger on the reason for why she had gotten this angry, she used to get like this, but when she did there would at least be some kind of motive for it. Now there wasn't.

It was like steam was coming out of her ears. All you did was ask her to look at the dress for like what? One second? And she looked furious.

Vada didn't know what had gotten into her either. She didn't like being interrupted, but when it was you, she didn't care. Now she did.

She cast a discerning gaze over the dress, her eyes revealing a clear hint of annoyance. "It makes you look big. I don't like it." She spat out before she could process her words.

The confidence in the dress was quickly drained away by Vada's comment. It was like a punch to the gut, a lump beginning to form in your throat.

You suddenly felt embarrassed, for even thinking she would like the dress in the first place. Of course she didn't like it. What did you except?

"Oh." You bit your lip, trying to the prevent the layer of tears from falling, which you felt was beginning to coat your irises. "Okay"

You didn't think twice before hurrying back to the dressing room, being quick to pull the curtain back so it covered you. Mumbles from Vada and Mia could be heard, but they were shut out as the ringing in your ears took over, quiet sobs falling from your mouth.

Checking the dress in the mirror one last time, you saw what Vada might've seen. Now all you could see was the body that you used to see back in sophomore year, back to when you used to stand in front of the mirror in tears and panic every day.

There was a few more dresses you had yet to try on, however, you had lost interest in pursuing that particular topic. All because of what Vada said.

You rushed yourself out of the dress, not standing the sight of it in the mirror.

And while you were about to get into your regular clothes, you heard Vada's voice right outside the changing room.

"Y/n, I'm sorry.. I didn't mean it." She sounded regretful. "You looked beautiful in it.. I don't know why I said that."

It was true. Vada had no clue why she said what she said and did what she did. She felt like she had absolute no control over what her mouth was doing. Like always. She always ended up saying something she didn't mean or stuff that was completely inappropriate.

She knew you'd had problems with confidence and self esteem before, which only made the guilt in her chest grow stronger and bigger.

You didn't care for Vada's attempt at solving the problem she caused. Instead you rapidly grabbed all of the dresses on their hangers and rushed out, not bothering to look at Vada's sad expression, filled with remorse and guilt.

You rushed past her, not even glancing at Mia who was standing further away, looking at you in the same way.

"Aren't you going to try the rest?" Vada rushed behind you, almost stepping on your heels for walking so closely behind.

"No." You answered harshly before the full question had time to exit her mouth.

She didn't ask why; because she knew the reason. The reason was her. And her too big of a mouth.

All of the dresses you were carrying were put onto the return racks before you walked out of the store.

You could feel Vada hot on your trails, Mia walking further away, surely not wanting to get into the middle of the situation.

"You should, they would all look pretty." She tried. But it was unclear if you heard her.

Vada's short legs couldn't keep up with your rapid speed, making her groan in frustration. You pushed through people, your only goal being to get out of the mall.

All you wanted to do was crawl into your bed and melt away.

Which was what you did.

***

The party was set two days later. Which felt sooner than expected.

You didn't want to have the party anymore.

That's why you had half a mind to just drink all of the punch and alcohol you had bought for the guests, and tell everyone the party was cancelled. Although it was too late for that.

You weren't sure if Vada was still coming, you hadn't contacted her ever since you left her a good night text the day of the mall 'accident'. She probably was coming though, she probably thought nothing of it.

However, it was everything Vada could think about. Her mind had been clouded by the look on your face when she told you that you looked big in that dress. Her words were echoing in her head.

She hadn't reached out to you because she thought it was for the best to give you space. Also because she didn't know what she would say. Of course she would pour out apologies and excuses, but she knew that wouldn't mean anything. But it hurt her to pieces knowing she had done something so incredibly wrong, to you of all people.

Which is why Vada was now placed on your living room couch, watching dozens of people dancing with drinks in their hands, scanning the people in case her eyes would get in contact with your figure.

She hadn't seen you all night, and it was starting to worry her. You used to run towards Vada the second you knew she arrived, now you hadn't.

The music was so loud the whole house was basically shaking of the vibrations from the speakers.

Vada was about to give up looking for you, when all of a sudden, she saw the top of your head not too far away from the dance floor.

She immediately forced herself up from her position on the couch, leaving her red solo cup in the living room table to approach you. Pushing through all the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to get to you.

You stood at the kitchen island with a beer in your hand, a big smile on your face as you spoke to one of your friends.

You hated beer. Vada knew that.

"Y/n?" Vada called out, almost screaming to be heard over the loud music and chattering.

Your head slowly turned to her, and just by looking at you for two seconds, she could tell you were drunk out of your mind.

Your eyes were almost bloodshot and glassy, your movements were unsteady and your face was flushed. "Hi Vada." And your breath reeked alcohol.

"Didn't think you were coming." You slurred, bringing the drink up to your mouth.

The girl who stood in front of you quickly slipped away from the two of you, joining the others on the dance floor.

As Vada's eyes scanned your figure, she could see you weren't wearing any of the dresses you tried on, the dress you were wearing was one of your old ones, it was loosely fitting so she couldn't see your figure that she admired. But it was her fault, she reminded herself.

"Don't you think you've had enough of those?" Vada asked, about to take the beer bottle out of your hand, but you moved it away so she was unable to.

"Probably" You laughed, putting your free hand on the table behind for support and prevent yourself from falling backwards. Taking another sip of the drink, your face scrunching up in disgust from the bitter taste.

This had been your plan for the whole night. Drinking more than you could handle, so you wouldn't feel like yourself.

You had spent the whole afternoon standing in front of the mirror, understanding what Vada had meant by the comment, understand that she was right. That's what you told yourself.

Vada hated seeing you like this. She was used to having to take care of you when you went to parties together, however she had never seen you this affected.

Hence to why she thought it was a good idea to bring you somewhere where you could be alone.

"Should we go outside?" Vada asked close to your ear, so she knew for certain that you heard.

You let out a scoff, "Why? So you could push me into the pool and tell me how big the big splash was?"

Vada flinched at your remark, and even though she knew the comeback was something you'd make without alcohol in your blood, she tried to tell herself it was just your fogged mind speaking.

She knew you wouldn't come with her just because she asked, you never did when drunk. Hence to why she grabbed your forearm with a firm grip, but not too hard for it to hurt you.

She pulled you through the dance floor, ignoring people cursing at her for pushing through them with her body. She walked you outside to the backyard, and luckily enough, nobody was there.

You didn't protest when she sat you down onto one of the pool chairs, mostly because you couldn't think straight and didn't know what was going on. Your head was spinning from all the punch and alcohol.

Vada sat down on the chair next to you, inspecting your features and how your lips were shaped like a frown.

She was completely aware that you probably wouldn't remember this tomorrow, but she felt like she had to apologize to you at that moment, even though she likely had to do it again when you were clear-headed.

"Y/n." Vada started, not knowing how to continue when your eyes met hers.

"Yes?" You replied quick, voice sounding even more slurry than before.

She let out a sigh, thinking how to form her apology without it sounding forced or sarcastic. "I-I'm so sorry for saying you looked big." She began, her voice feeling shaky; filled with regret from what she'd done.

You looked up at her, eyes sad and hollow with tears starting to form.

"I don't know why I said tha- I was so passionate about talking. I didn't even pay attention to you- You're the prettiest girl I know and I just-...I don't know why I said that." Vada rambled, her hands flying all over the place.

Normally you would smile at Vada's rambling, but now you didn't. And she noticed that.

She exhaled deeply before continuing, trying to think her words through even harder this time, since it clearly didn't work the first.

"I didn't mean what I said. And I'm sorry." Vada spoke up again, trying to sound calmer than she actually was.

You didn't answer, just staring back at her with your beautiful eyes. It was making Vada nervous, her hands starting to sweat. Were you about to break up with her? Oh god, if you did she would never forgive herself.

You licked your lips, looking like you were about to say something, and you did. "Why did you say it then?"

The question made Vada furrow her brows, didn't you listen to her rambling? Were you too drunk to even notice she had been talking this whole time?

"I don't know." Vada sighed, getting frustrated with herself for being such a blabbermouth.

She scooted herself to the edge of the beach bed, taking your hands in hers. Vada had never been great with the physical touch thing, she loved when you would take her hands or touch her face, but she felt like she did it awkward. She thought she made everything awkward.

"You looked great in that dress.. all of the other ones too.. I'll buy them all for you if you ever forgive me." Vada spoke softly, gently rubbing her thumb over your hand.

"Serious?" You grinned.

Vada nodded. "Promise." Putting up her pinky for you to link with.

"You're forgiven then." Your finger joined hers, solidifying the promise.

You knew you weren't sober or in the right mindset, but you did know that you did want those dresses.

Drunk or not.

[fullsunstrawberry]

Singles Fest

genre: friends to lovers, very fluffy (extremely)

synopsis: Valentine's Day has always been a sore spot for you, never having a Valentine. This year, Haechan proposes a gift exchange among single friends. You find yourself paired with Chenle, reluctantly at first, but as you prepare your gifts, you start to look forward to it. Back at his apartment, an innocent gift exchange takes a turn.

warnings: Mature content, strong language, vanilla sex, no condom mentioned…(oops)

word count: 4.5k

a/n: my english class has been assigning poetry so sorry if this is a little too much 💀

a/n(2): also gift for @lowkeyjaemle <3 happy valentine’s day >_-

"Valentine's Day has always been a sore spot for you, never having a Valentine. Sure, friends have offered tokens of affection like chocolates or stuffed animals, but it never quite fills the void. This year seems to be heading in the same direction.

Which leads to Haechan, equally disappointed with the lack of romantic gestures in his life. He proposes a solution: a gift exchange among the single members of your friend group, mirroring the Christmas tradition you all do every year. Jeno, Jaemin, and Jisung all agree without any protests, while Chenle needs a bit more persuasion. Mark and Renjun, both already in relationships, found this all amusing.

₊˚⊹₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ˚ ₊ ⊹ ˚ ₊

The weekend before Valentines, you're rudely awakened by Haechan's loud pleas.

"PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!" he begs, shaking you awake.

You groan, not entirely sold on the concept. "I'm not exactly keen on being someone's Valentine, especially not a friend. It feels a bit... strange."

"Come on!" Haechan persists, undeterred. "Fine, I'll pair you with Chenle."

You scoff, tossing a pillow in his direction. "And why on earth would I want that?"

"He's loaded!" Haechan retorts with a mischievous grin. "You won't be getting cheap chocolates, that's for sure."

Well, he does have a point. You find yourself considering. "You know what? You've sold me. I'm in."

Your plans of having a pity party are now over. But at least you’ll have some expensive chocolate to get you through the day. Maybe you can still watch romcoms afterwards.

₊˚⊹₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ˚ ₊ ⊹ ˚ ₊

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Haechan's voice echoed through the room, prompting immediate silence. Not out of respect, mind you, but everyone knew he would get even more annoying if they didn’t.

"For this year's singles fest, I've gone ahead and randomly paired you all up," Haechan declared, his enthusiasm bordering on excessive.

As the collective groans of the guys filled the room, Haechan shot you a sly wink. You exchange an amused glance with Haechan, wondering what kind of mischief he's cooked up this time.

Haechan dramatically produces a hat from behind his back, adorned with hearts and glitter, and swirls it around dramatically before dramatically plucking out slips of paper bearing the names of each participant's assigned gift exchange partner.

Jeno's eyes widen as he unfolds his slip, revealing he's been paired with Jaemin, while Jaemin's face lights up with a mischievous grin. Jisung lets out a resigned sigh upon discovering he's partnered with Haechan, who looks a little too excited.

Chenle, who had been reluctantly dragged into all of this, reluctantly opens his slip and discovers he's been matched with you. He raises his eyebrows in shock. You shoot Haechan a playful smirk, knowing that he's probably rigged the pairs for maximum entertainment value.

Haechan flashes you a devilish grin in return, clearly pleased with the chaos he's created.

As everyone breaks up into pairs to plan what they are going to do, you find yourself warming up to the idea of participating in the gift exchange with Chenle. Despite his initial reluctance, Chenle seems open to the idea of making the best of everything.

₊˚⊹₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ˚ ₊ ⊹ ˚ ₊

The night before Valentine's Day, you couldn't help but feel butterflies as you prepared your gift for Chenle. You had settled on a handmade scrapbook, filled with memories and inside jokes that the two of you had shared throughout the years. Yeah, it was very heartfelt but you knew you couldn’t buy him anything he didn’t already have. Regretting that one time you bought him a sweater that he already had, in secret santa.

On Valentine's Day morning, you woke up actually excited. As you got ready, thoughts of Chenle's reaction danced in your mind. Would he appreciate the effort you had put into the gift? Would he like it?

You and Chenle had agreed on meeting at a cute little café in town, where you would exchange your gifts over a cup of hot chocolate.

As you step into the warm café, your eyes search for Chenle. Spotting him in the corner, you made your way to the table where he's already sitting, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. He stands up to greet you with a warm smile, and you can't help but notice how his cheeks turn a subtle shade of pink.

"Hey," Chenle says, his voice filled with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day," you reply, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Despite this being a casual gift exchange among friends, the environment felt a little too romantic.

With trembling hands, Chenle pushes the gift bag towards you. "I hope you like it," he says, his voice filled with nervousness.

You reach into the bag and pull out a small box wrapped in colorful paper. Carefully, you untie the ribbon and lift the lid, revealing a delicate necklace adorned with a charm shaped like a music note. It's simple yet elegant, a perfect reflection of your shared love for music.

Your breath catches in your throat as you realize the thoughtfulness behind Chenle's gift. You look up at him, speechless, and he blushes under your gaze. "I know how much music means to you," he says softly. "And I wanted to give you something that represents our friendship."

Touched beyond words, you feel tears welling up in your eyes. This gift exchange has far exceeded your expectations; you expected silly pranks or meaningless gestures from Chenle, not this.

As you wipe away a stray tear, all your initial reservations about Valentine's Day fade away. Haechan's mischievous plan may have kickstarted this gift exchange, but Chenle has truly made it special. At that moment, you realize that this Valentine's Day will forever hold a special place in your heart. Even if he views you two as just friends and nothing more.

Grateful for the beautiful necklace and touched by the sentiment behind it, you reach into your bag and retrieve the scrapbook you've created for Chenle. Handing it to him with a shy smile, you watch as his eyes widen in surprise. He flips through the pages, laughter and nostalgia mixing in the air as he rediscovers precious moments you've shared together.

"Oh wow," Chenle breathes out, his voice filled with emotion. "You put so much thought into this."

"I wanted to capture all the incredible memories we've made," you reply, your voice filled with warmth. "Our friendship means the world to me, Chenle, and I wanted to show you just how much."

Chenle's eyes shimmer with unshed tears as he closes the scrapbook gently, holding it against his chest. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude. "I couldn't have asked for a better gift."

As you sit there, basking in each other’s presence, the café fades into the background. It feels as though it's just the two of you at this moment.

With a sudden burst of courage, Chenle leans forward, his hand reaching out to brush against yours. The touch is electric, sending a jolt of excitement through both of you. And in that split second, something shifts in the air between you. As quickly as he reached for your hand, he took his away. “I didn’t even ask if you wanted anything to eat or drink” Chenle awkwardly chuckled.

You laugh softly, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment at the sudden change in atmosphere. "I'm fine, really. Just being here with you is enough," you reply, giving Chenle a reassuring smile.

He visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping slightly as he returns your smile. "Okay then," he says, his voice filled with a newfound confidence

Well, in that case, let's skip the hot chocolate and go straight for dessert," he suggests, his voice laced with a teasing tone.

A playful smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you raise an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting we indulge in something sweet, Chenle?"

He nods, the mischievous glint in his eyes growing stronger. "Absolutely," he replies. "Life is too short to resist temptation, especially on Valentine's Day."

You chuckle and play along, feeling the spark of excitement between you grow even stronger. "I couldn't agree more," you say, your voice filled with a newfound boldness.

Chenle got up from his seat and asked “the usual you like?” You nodded before Chenle smiled and went to order, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You’re a little scared, this feels a little too real for just friends. But before you could farther your thoughts, a random man came up to your table

“A girl like you shouldn’t be alone on Valentines Day” He sat down in front of you

and you immediately felt a wave of discomfort wash over you. His presence was intrusive and unwanted, as he continued to make inappropriate comments about your appearance and how lucky he was to have stumbled upon you. You glanced around the café, hoping for someone to intervene, but everyone seemed in their own world.

“Suprised you don’t have a boyfriend, how about I change that?”

Just as you were about to stand up and ask him to leave, Chenle returned with two plates of heart-shaped desserts. He froze in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. Without missing a beat, he swiftly placed the plates on the table and stepped next to you, shielding you from the man's view.

"Excuse me," Chenle said firmly, his voice carrying a subtle edge. "I believe you're unwanted."

The man scoffed and looked Chenle up and down dismissively. "What's it to you? This lady looks like she could use some company."

Chenle's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She’s taken.”

The man hesitated for a moment, taken aback by Chenle's sudden assertiveness. Sensing the underlying determination in Chenle's voice, he slowly stood up, glancing at you with a mix of annoyance and disappointment. "Fine," he grumbled, before sauntering away from your table.

As soon as the man disappeared into the crowd, Chenle turned his attention back to you, concern written on his face. He reached out and gently grabbed your hand in his, silently asking if you were okay. You nodded, grateful for his protective gesture and the way he had quickly dealt with the situation.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that," Chenle said, his voice filled with sincerity.

You smiled at him appreciatively, feeling a surge of warmth. "Thank you for standing up for me," you replied softly.

You started to laugh, a mix of relief and amusement bubbling out of you. "You really came to my rescue, didn't you? My knight in shining armor."

Chenle chuckled, a playful glint returning to his eyes. "Well, someone's got to keep the creeps away," he said with a wink.

You took a bite out of your dessert and chuckled again “So I’m taken?” You raised your eyebrow at him.

Chenle grinned mischievously, a hint of newfound confidence in his expression. "Well," he began, his tone playful, "consider it a way to ward off any unwanted attention. Besides, who wouldn't want to be taken by me?" He winked again, his charm and wit in full swing like always.

You laughed and playfully nudged him with your elbow. "Oh, so now you're getting cocky, huh? Just because you saved me from that guy doesn't mean you can go around proclaiming how great you are to the world."

Chenle feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Hey now, who said I was boasting? I'm just stating the obvious." He chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

The two of you continued enjoying your desserts together, the lingering tension from the encounter slowly dissipating as conversation flowed effortlessly between you.

The sun was starting to set but you didn’t want to go home yet. Chenle could tell something was wrong by the way your face shifted.

“What’s wrong?”

You sighed, feeling a mix of vulnerability and uncertainty wash over you. "I guess... I just don't want this day to end," you admitted softly, your eyes meeting Chenle's. "I've had such an incredible time with you, and I don't want it to be over."

Chenle's expression softened as he reached across the table, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Me neither," he confessed, “Let’s go back to my place, daegal misses you anyways.”

You smiled, “I miss her too! We can take her out for a walk or something”

Chenle nodded eagerly, your heart fluttering. "That sounds perfect," He replied, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. “Oh and remind me when we get there, I bought you something and I didn't have time to wrap”

Chenle paid the bill and you both made your way out of the café, hand in hand. The chilly winter air hit your cheeks as you walked side by side, the cityscape twinkling with streetlights. The walk to Chenle's apartment was filled with comfortable silence, the kind that only true companionship could bring.

As you entered the apartment building, Chenle opened the door for you. "Welcome to my humble abode," he said playfully, gesturing for you to enter first.

You stepped inside, feeling a wave of familiar warmth embrace you as soon as you walked through the door. The apartment was cozy and inviting, filled with soft lighting and a faint scent of home. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Daegal, Chenle's adorable mini-bichon wagging her tail.

“Take a seat on the couch, I’ll go get your other gift.” Chenle gestured to the couch before jogging up the stairs to his room.

You got comfortable on the couch, thinking to yourself, what could he have got you? The necklace was already the best gift ever.

“Okay, now I have no idea what these are…” Chenle started as he brought down a couple of amazon bags “I just asked Haechan to buy stuff from your amazon wishlist with my card”

Confused you asked him “Wait, which one?”

“Uh he said the one with a heart would be the best?” Chenle spoke unsure.

You started to laugh, of course Haechan would do this to you! “oh god!” Your face started to get red.

“What? Oh no, did Haechan do something…?” Chenle sounded disappointed

“I probably shouldn’t open these in front of you” You grabbed the packages out of Chenle’s hands but he started to protest “Wait but I bought them! I should at least be in on the joke!”

You hid your face in your hands, “this is so embarrassing”

Chenle's curiosity piqued as he watched you hide your face, his eyes narrowing with intrigue. "Come on, now you've got me really curious," he insisted, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I promise I won't judge."

Feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement, you reluctantly grabbed one of the bags from Chenle. With a deep breath, you unveiled its contents, revealing a red lace set of lingerie. Your face flushed an even deeper shade of red, and you couldn't bring yourself to look Chenle in the eye.

Chenle's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the contents of the bag. A mix of shock and amusement flickered across his face, but he quickly composed himself and let out a hearty laugh. "Well, well," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You... You have a red lace lingerie set on your wishlist?" Chenle managed to say between fits of laughter. "I never would've expected that from you!"

You peeked through your fingers, feeling both mortified and entertained by Chenle's reaction. "Well, you know... It was just a little something for myself," you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

Chenle's laughter subsided as he smirked, his playful nature taking over once again. "So, are you planning on modeling this for me?" he asked with a wink.

You playfully swatted Chenle's arm, unable to hide your laughter any longer.

“You did buy me some expensive sets…it’s only fair”

Chenle’s eyes narrowed and he slowly licked his bottom lip, “I mean it’s the same thing as me trying on the jacket you bought me for Christmas”

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile forming on your lips. "Oh, really? So you're saying that modeling this lingerie for you, is the same thing as you trying on a jacket" you challenged.

Chenle's eyes widened, realizing he had walked right into a trap. He chuckled nervously, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well... um... I suppose it would only be fair," he stammered, unable to hide his growing excitement.

You couldn't help but giggle at Chenle's flustered state. "Okay then," you said playfully, "deal. But only if you promise not to laugh or make fun of me."

Chenle held up his hands in surrender, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I promise," he declared. "No laughing, no making fun. Just two people having a little harmless fun."

After slipping away to change into the lingerie, nerves fluttered in your stomach as you wondered how this would play out. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that Chenle had promised not to laugh or make fun of you. You walked back into the living room, feeling a mixture of self-consciousness and a little excitement that you didn’t know where it came from.

Chenle's eyes widened as he set his gaze upon you, his mouth slightly agape. The playful smirk he had worn moments ago disappeared, replaced with an expression of awe. "Wow," he breathed out, his voice barely a whisper.

A blush spread across your cheeks, but you couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence at Chenle's reaction. You slowly walked toward him, savoring the anticipation that hung in the air. As you came to stand in front of him, you noticed how his eyes glittered with desire and admiration.

Chenle reached out and gently traced a finger along the lace of the lingerie, his touch causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "You look absolutely breathtaking," he murmured, his voice thick.

Getting nervous from how he is looking at you, you start to cover yourself with your hands.

Chenle's eyes widened with concern as he noticed your sudden change in demeanor. He gently took hold of your hands, easing them away from your body. "Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with reassurance. "Don't hide yourself. You're beautiful, and you have nothing to be ashamed of."

His words brought a surge of warmth to your heart, and you took a deep breath, willing yourself to let go of your self-consciousness. With a newfound sense of confidence, you allowed Chenle to guide you toward the couch, where he sat down and motioned for you to straddle his lap.

As you settled onto his lap. Chenle's hands cupped your face, tilting it gently to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

"You don't have to worry about a thing," Chenle whispered, his voice husky. "Just trust me, and let go. We'll take things as slow as you need."

With his words, any lingering unease melted away, replaced with a growing hunger for a connection between you. The air grew warm as Chenle leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. The softness of his touch sent shivers down your spine. As the kiss deepened, Chenle's hands explored the curves of your body until his hands landed on the curve of your back.

The constraints of the lingerie became nothing more than an afterthought. With each piece that he admired, you both became more eggar.

Chenle pulled away from your lips, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. “Should we move to my bedroom?” You nodded eagerly.

Chenle stood up, his grip on your hand never faltering as he led you to his bedroom. The room was bathed in a soft, warm glow from the bedside lamp, casting shadows that filled the walls.

As you entered the room, Chenle turned to face you, his eyes filled desire. His voice was low and husky, sending shivers down your spine as he spoke, "Are you sure about this? We don't have to if you're not ready."

With a gentle smile, you reassured him, "I'm sure, Chenle. I want this." Your voice was filled with sincerity.

In an instant, Chenle's arms were around you, pulling you into a passionate kiss. His hands roamed over your body with purpose and adoration, leaving trails of fire as they traveled over your skin.

You reached down, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head. As the shirt fell away, you were greeted with a sight that took your breath away. Chenle's body was a masterpiece, chiseled and defined, but his eyes were focused on you.

You took a step back, breaking the kiss, and let your gaze travel over his body. It was then that you realized just how much you truly desired him. The hunger in your eyes was reflected back at you, and you could see in Chenle's that he felt the same.

Your eyes met, and he gently led you to his bed. As you lay down, he kissed you once more, his lips tender yet fiery. His hands continued to explore your body, sending shivers down your spine. You reached up to unhook your bra, revealing your bare chest to him. His eyes widened at the sight, and he leaned down to kiss your chest, his tongue tracing the outline of your nipple.

You moaned softly, a mix of pleasure and embarrassment coursing through your body. You had never felt so exposed, yet so intimate with someone before. Yeah you’ve hooked up with people before but this is different, this is your friend.

Chenle continued to kiss and lick your chest, slowly working his way down your body. He reached your waist, undoing the clasp of your lingerie and sliding it down your leg. Kicking it away, revealing your naked body to him.

His eyes locked on yours, and he slowly started to kissing your inner thighs.

Your breath hitched as he moved closer to where you wanted him most.

You bit your lip, trying to hold in your moans, but the pleasure was too much. Chenle's tongue found its way to your most sensitive area, and you could feel his lips and tongue working their magic. Your body trembled, and you let out a soft cry.

Chenle looked up at you, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him, and he knew it.

He slowly made his way up your body, his lips trailing kisses across your skin. When he reached your lips, he captured them in a deep, hungry kiss. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting your sweet lips.

You pulled away and fumbled for his belt. Chenle let out a small laugh when you couldn’t get it undone. He took hold of your hands and pulled them away.

Chenle's eyes never left yours as he unbuttoned his pants, revealing his hardness beneath. You bit your lip, watching him as he took your hand again, guiding it to his erection.

You gripped him gently, feeling the warmth and firmness. Chenle's eyes still locked onto you, he titled his head down and his breath quickened, mirroring your own.

You leaned in, kissing him once more, your hands still wrapped around him. You could feel him growing harder in your grasp, and you knew this was it. You were ready.

Chenle broke the kiss, his eyes filled with desire and adoration. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat.

He slowly leaned your body back down and groaned softly, as he slowly eased himself into you. You let out a soft gasp, your body adjusting to the sensation of him inside you.

Chenle's hand gently cupped your face, pushing your hair off your forehead as his eyes locked on yours. You felt his breath hitch as he began to move slowly, the rhythm of his body matching the pace of your heart.

With each thrust, he deepened the kiss, his lips devouring yours as his body moved against yours.

As Chenle increased his pace, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You felt his body tremble, and he groaned softly, matching his rhythm to yours. The sensations were overwhelming, and you knew you were close.

Chenle's eyes locked onto yours, his expression filled with raw emotion. His thrust got harder, his gaze never leaving yours as you both started to breathe heavier.

Your body tensed, your breath hitched, and you could feel the climax building within you. Chenle's eyes never left yours, his expression filled with raw emotion. The pleasure coursing through you was overwhelming, and you knew this was it. With one last thrust, Chenle cried out your name, his body shaking as his climax took hold.

You felt him pulse inside you, you felt your body give into the pleasure as well. You cried out his name and a series of cuss words, your body shook with the intensity of everything happening.

The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the thud of pounding hearts. Chenle slowly pulled out, his gaze never leaving yours. He leaned down and kissed you, his lips gentle and tender.

He pulled away from the kiss as your mouth followed him for more, “I have to get you all cleaned up, I promise ill be quick”

You chuckled lightly, nodding your head.

It didn’t take Chenle long to help you clean up and give you some pajamas for the night.

As he got comfortable in his bed you spoke up, “We should really talk about us”

He turned to look at you, "I agree. But first, can we just enjoy this moment?"

You nodded, snuggling closer to him. "Of course."

Chenle smiled, his hand gently stroking your hair. You looked up at him and giggled “You owe me a date”

Chenle laughed “This was a date!”

You rolled your eyes playfully, "An official date!"

Chenle chuckled, "Alright, alright, we'll do that.”

As you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

For the first time in a long time, you felt truly alive and connected to someone. You never expected it to be with one of your friends, let alone Chenle. But as you drifted off to sleep, you knew that this was only the beginning of something truly special.

permanent taglist (18+): @vvsmydiamonds127 @haechansbbg

dreamie taglist: @loveforred @rmslover

(to be added to any of my taglist, please state which one and you have to be 18+)

[andy-wm]

Back to WHO : the MV

This is a continuation of the earlier post that discusses the song WHO, by Jimin. That post was a first impression focused on the lyrics - while this one looks more closely at the MV.

(Remember this is my interpretation, not an official statement by Hybe)

The more times I watched the music video, the more I wanted to yell, because look...

IT'S REALLY STARING US IN THE FACE.

And again, kudos to Jimin's team because it's the most obvious thing in the world ever but only if you ALREADY KNOW what's going on.

Here's a summary:

The music video loosely represents Jimin's attraction/sexuality/love life as a timeline.

New colours - a new spectrum shall we say - filter into his life even though he's trying so hard to 'keep to the program'.

He searches high and low for a girl to love, but alas, nobody makes the fireworks happen for him. Then Billboard Boy crashes into his life, threatening to destroy everything. Jimin has to weather the storm and figure out where his place is because Billboard Boy is a major disruptor - a tornado in fact. In the end, the fireworks are popping and the chaos is happening, and Jimin has to just go with it and finds his place again. His colours have been getting brighter and louder as he goes along and in the end he's prepared to walk away from everything in order to be the spectrum he is.

<<I'm not saying it's literally a count of how many girls or boys or enbys he's kissed. I hope his kissed all of them and then some, frankly, but that's none of my business.>>

A few things to pay special attention to:

Burning cars > cars = masculinity. fire = hot. 1+1=2.

Dancers > people he's interacting with

Rough weather, as represented by the wind-whipped papers and eventually even cars being tossed about the set > His attraction to men (and dare I say it, culminating in a focus on one man in particular)

Colour flares, machine text, and marks on the tape (horizontal lines etc)

Are you ready? Let's go...

Jimin enters the scene looking like sex on legs (no surprises) and strolls casually onto the road. Immediately our view of hm is blocked by a pop-art style poster blowing across the screen. It's immediately followed by a car coming around the corner onto the road. The car is on fire. Jimin watches it pass by and follows it.

He follows the burning car.... and so it begins.

The narrative starts from before BTS even exists. Jimin encounters several female dancers who he has brief and sexy interludes with. In fact i don't think there's a single woman in this MV who he doesn't at least look at. He really does try everything (and everyone) in his efforts to find HER.

BUT WAIT.... rewind...

Let's go back to the poster... it depicts a street scene much like the one we see here, with the words:

WHO IS!! TORNADO OF LOVE

Note: those are exclamation points not question marks.

It's not a question. This is telling us UP FRONT IN BIG LETTERS that 'WHO' is tornado of love.

I could probably stop here and just say 'ok go watch it again' but it's too much fun to go through all the details.

So let's continue...

Jimin has a little more steamy choreo with the female dancers before the lyrics tell us he has so many people to see and places to go, and he leaves them and joins 6 other men in what looks like a work environment....

Hello we are BTS!

Yes you guessed it... like Yoongi did in Haegum, Jimin has his members represented here. (Fan chant going off in my head...) and more delicious choreography follows.

Notice that while Jimin was dancing with the girls, the only signs of rough weather were a few glittery specs floating through the air, barely noticable. Those bits of glitter multiply when he joins the 6 men, and instead of a sprinkling of glitter, it starts looking like a light snowfall.

That's all about to change....

The first moment of reckonning:

At the end of this section of choreo, as Jimin sings 'who is my heart waiting for' and moves into the next phase we have a barely visible flash of light across the screen and rainbow colours bleed into the footage (at 1.14).

This is also the moment the significant rough weather starts. I'd say this is where Jimin starts noticing how he feels, and the turmoil begins, because this is also where he makes eye contact with the camera (1.23).

He sees us watching.

Fuck. I had a moment here. There's a look on his face as he walks past the camera and stares right into it.

AUTO CALLIBRATION...

As another millisecond flash of light and rainbow colours seep into the footage, The machine text 'AUTO CALLIBRATION' appear on the screen and flash there for a couple of seconds.

CALLIBRATE: To standardise... by determinning the deviation from a standard so as to ascertain the proper correction factors (Meriam-Webster definition).

"Get a hold of yourself, Jimin. Reset (your behaviour and desires) to correspond with expectations"

Jimin makes a very determined bee-line for the nearest girl and dances with her, ignoring the burning car in the foreground.

This brings us to the next phase of the narrative, and the next location - the performance space in front of the OASIS cinema.

(Do you see the doors of the cinema - BTS referenced again).

As he dances with this girl, the camera zooms out and we see that a crowd has gathered outside the cinema, watching them, but the crowd does not seem friendly and the dance seems performative - the movements are exagerated and obvious. The girl has Jimin in a headlock at one point and then she pushes him away and leaves. All in all it's an unpleasant event.

At this point the BTS members return (Although now there's one missing) and they dance with and around a number of female dancers. flashes go off in the crowd as the choreo is performed.

As they dance the wind picks up quickly and papers and cans are blown about. Even when Jimin is obviously interacting with female dancers the weather continues to pick up. Dancing with the girls isn't helping.

The camera pulls back and we see the same car as before, still on fire.

This is the moment when the penny (or billboard) drops.

All the other dancers scatter, dissapearing in a matter of seconds as the billboard comes crashing down. The billboard blocks his path. Wherever he had been planning to go - or whatever course of action he had planned to take - this man on the billboard forces a new decision. Jimin has to rethink his plans.

Jimin turns and goes in the opposite direction to everyone else. (A similar scene occured in Like Crazy, Jimin going the other way, rejecting the norm, going against the tide).

The machine text flashes "REWIND ... REWIND" on the screen and we see Jimin heading back to where all this started... where the original car on fire was seen.

He's travelling his own path now, but as he walks, alone in what seems to be the wrong direction, we see the store lights brighter, reflecting off cars and filling the space around him.

He's going through the motions with the girls he passes but the interactions are brief and in one case he actually dodges the girl completetly.

He retraces his steps amidst the chaos, and the weather really goes nuts. Now there are cars being thrown through the air, streetlamps exploding. The storm is almost upon him.

As Jimin steps into that original street again, the one with the neon letters spelling BLISS, the machine text reads PLAY. It's almost ike he's having a redo, where he accepts who he is from the start and allows the chaos to happen. And the chaos DOES happen, because the tornado has arrived.

THE TORNADO OF LOVE.

There's a flash and the whole screen is flooded with colours, blanking out the footage.

Jimin can no longer dance in step with everyone else at this point. He's doubled over, belting those high notes at the climax of the song while the chaos rages in the background. Without the music to give his actions context, it almost looks like hes in agony.

Sparks fly, lights flash, even the film itself is affected...

He eventually gets it together and rejoins the choreography, picking up his life so to speak. But his callibration is forever changed. the colours that bled into his life are there for good now, and and as he walks away after the music stops, we see that those colours are not just for the performance, they exist outside of that.

A note about the light flares we see throughout the MV:

It was really hard to catch these, some of them were literal milliseconds. I had to slow the MV down to play at .25 original speed and even then they were fleeting - well hidden.

Only the one at the very end was really visible.

In this one, the word PAUSE appears, as the MV ends. I wonder if that relates to their military service?

The flares of light and colour, those rainbow flashes, aren't always easy to find. Youvhave to be prepared to seek them out.

We will find them if we look for them, but i think Jimin won't show his true colours until after the lights go down and the performance is over.

I respect his decision (if that's what that is) and i will continue to meet him here his stands. I'll support everything he does knowing what I know and I'll continue to search for and uncover the hidden messages he sends us.

[neon-kazoo]

Villains I dont see very often; mute. Mute villains are the best, nothing can convince me otherwise.

One idea thats been on my mind is a mute villain confessing to the hero, either through sign language, or a perfectly executed scheme. You’re choice :))

Not sure if this counts, but I ran with it. Might try this again after I gather some ASL knowledge. Hope you enjoy :)

A Silent Movie

It wasn’t exactly easy to get Hero sat in front of the cinema screen. In fact, the planning for this trap had taken over sixth months. Not to mention the money it took to buy this building off foreclosure, and the multitude of investments into Hero-proofing the location.

It was even harder to get said hero to stop yelling long enough to pay attention to the image being projected from the back of the room. Not that their sense of hearing was needed for this experience, but Villain imagined Hero would appreciate the lack of noise-based distractions, including sounds they themselves were making.

The theater was notably large, probably the most expensive showing room of its day. That is to say, the upholstery was a little outdated. The popcorn had been swept off the floor, the swirling carpet surprisingly clean. The velvet of the seats did not appear stained, and the cupholders were absent of any discarded snacks or tickets.

The glow of the emergency exit lights were the only thing illuminating the room, and they revealed a dim image of the hero situated in the center of the third row, which was optimal seating in the villain’s opinion.

Clearly, Hero did not agree, considering how hard they were pulling at the restraints to try and exit their carefully selected theater chair.

It was futile, of course, and the hero finally stopped straining when the villain appeared a row below them, quiet as a mouse, standing with a finger pressed to their lips.

Villain retreated when the hero quieted, letting their attention shift to the screen and this special showing. Images flicked past, and Hero became engrossed in the story unfolding on the screen.

Shown was a news reel Hero recognized as the time Villain had crashed their Election Day speech. A zoomed out map of the city, marking City Hall with a red square. Grainy footage of two figures dancing around next to a dumpster. Once again the map appeared, now with two squares pasted on top. The pattern continued, and Hero was amazed.

It was an agglomeration of every moment they had spent together, every public battle, every nighttime-shady-alley encounter.

There was only one reason to collect these momentos, these reminders. It had all meant something to the villain.

The complete lack of kernels on the carpet certainly pointed to a level of dedication and commitment to this scheme.

Maybe, they were hoping it meant something to the hero, too.

Another scene zoomed out a final time, revealing all the markers spread across the city. Only, now, Hero noticed, a rather distinct pattern had formed.

Villain moved like a phantom, appearing again, this time at the hero’s side. The ropes at their wrists fell away like magic while Hero gazed at the awkwardly hovering villain. They presented the hero with a glittering object hung from a chain held loose around their fingers. It was a large ruby gem, expertly cut into the shape of a 3-D heart.

Stolen, no doubt, Hero suspected possibly from the large jewelry exhibition that had just entered town.

The screen flashed bright, and lit up the hero’s face as it contorted in surprise. They processed the scene as fast as they could.

A heart of red markers, a heart of ruby, a heart fluttering in their chest, a heart laid open in front of them.

“Oh,” Hero breathed, “Oh.”

Villain sucked in a breath.

This was it, this was the moment they got rejected because they couldn’t-

“I had no idea.”

Of course they didn’t know, it’s not like Villain had ever spoken about it.

Preparing automatically for the rejection, Villain started to withdraw their hand, cold-as-steel demeanor returning to them with all the familiarity of a security blanket.

It was so stupid of them to think that they deserved any kind of reciprocation, so stupid to think that the hero could possibly-

The hero snatched the charm from their fingers before they fully withdrew.

“I didn’t say no,” they spoke softly, and the villain’s heart skipped a beat.

They reached out their other hand, wrapping their fingers over the still-outstretched hand of the villain. Instead of elaborating, Hero pulled the frozen criminal closer, connecting their lips in a gentle proclamation.

Actions spoke louder than words anyway.

[fairyhaos]

✰ seventeen as boyfriends: mingyu edition

event taglist (send ask to be added): @rubywonu @cinnamoroxie @wheeboo @belladaises @minhui896 @slytherinshua @kokoiinuts @jun-of-love @hannyoontify @dandycharmer @sweet-like-caramel @doesthismeannothingtoyou @fashionminghao @icysungho @butiluvu

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader

genre: fluff, headcanon, mini scenario

word count: 536

warnings: none

notes: mingyu edn for the 500 event

god someone help this man he’s just so. just so IN LOVE

all extravagant shows of affection, bowing down to you and taking your hand and kissing your knuckles

grins and tucks your arm into the crook of your elbow as you’re walking, asking “how is my love doing today?” in a stupid cheesy voice and it makes you slap him on the arm for being ridiculous but he’s laughing and it makes you laugh too

always, always prepared to compliment you for anything at all

want his opinion on how you look in this one outfit that you really like? boom he’s already composing sonnets on how it only emphasises your beauty.

wondering whether you’re really good enough to take this one college course that you think looks really interesting? you don’t even have time to doubt yourself before he’s rambling about how incredible you are.

looks at you with stars glittering in his eyes, actually.

like you’re the only person in the universe for him.

It’s a lazy sort of day, quiet and calm and peaceful.

The afternoon sun is gentle, little flutters of warmth brushing everywhere it can reach as it streams in through the windows, and Mingyu thinks it’s just a little bit perfect.

You have your head on his stomach, and he’s slumped on the sofa, both of you unwilling to do anything on such a peaceful day. Neither of you have said anything for about an hour, but he thinks it’s okay, because your presence and your comforting weight on him is words enough.

He’s on his phone, doing nothing really, and you’ve been reading some book while resting on him, with the faint chitter of birds and the laughter of childhood happening somewhere outside. He looks down at you, wanting to peer at what you’re reading, before he laughs a little to himself.

Soothed by the quiet atmosphere, you must have fallen asleep at some point, and now the book is only just being held in your hand as your arm dangles off the edge of the sofa. Mingyu can't figure out how he didn’t know you’d fallen asleep, given the fact you’re literally laying on him, but he smiles, endeared.

You look so calm, relaxed, face clear of any expression other than peace. 

He adjusts your head a little so you’re laying on his lap, letting the book fall to the floor with a quiet thunk, so you’re not straining your neck and also so he can see you better. When you make small noises of protest at the action, he soothes you with small noises of his own, and eventually you relax into him, a warm and familiar weight.

Carefully, he strokes the hair out of your face, fingers tracing lightly down the curve of your nose. He smiles as you scrunch your nose at the action, tapping you lightly on the tip of your nose and chuckling softly when you huff a little in your sleep. 

He puts down his phone, threading a soothing hand through your hair, and the gentle afternoon light cast across the bottom of your face makes you look a little like an angel.

Yes. Today is just a little bit perfect.

[munsonsreputation]

the very first page not where the storyline ends

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [4.8k]

warnings: mild cursing, slight mention of steve's childhood, overall fluff and all that romantic stuff

summary: a sparkling night and a flawless dance you shared with Steve Harrington wasn’t how you imagined your love story to begin. Nothing could have prepared you for it, but you’d both spend every dance and forever wondering how enchanting it was to finally find each other.

The speakers blasted a slow song, prompting couples and friends to make their way onto the dance floor while all you could do was watch from the sidelines as their bodies swayed.

Part of you didn’t mind one bit, while the other wished that at least one of your friends could have asked you to dance just so you wouldn’t be lonely. Thankfully, the outskirts of the dance floor lingering with the other strays didn’t make you feel too bad, knowing you weren’t the only one without a slow dance for the night.

You watched on with a fond smile, admiring all the high school sweethearts you hoped would turn into forever lovers — and high school friends that would turn into lifelong ones. Despite your initial annoyance at the lack of romance, you loved the idea of potentially witnessing it from others.

Sipping on the overly sweet and likely spiked punch, you finally pulled your eyes from the dance floor, looking everywhere but there in hopes of curing your achy heart. It was then that you noticed the figure from across the room and eyes that belonged to it seemingly fixated on you.

The orbs belonged to Steve Harrington, one of the most popular boys in all of Hawkins. Everyone knew who he was, yet his eyes seemed to call out to you from across the room, asking if you two have met before accompanied with that charming smile plastered across his lips.

You twiddled your fingers at him cooly, setting the flimsy plastic cup down on the table, breath hitching nervously in your chest as his silhouette started to make its way to you. His hands tucked into his pant pockets, coming closer to you with a shyness you’d never seen up close and personal before.

“I’m Steve,” He spoke loud enough, standing in front of where you were seated, careful to not let his shoes come in contact with the excess fabric on your dress that flooded the floor.

“Hi, Steve.” You grinned, looking up at him through your mascara coated lashes, blinking wildly because it had to have been a dream.

Meanwhile, Steve felt like a loser. A total hopeless romantic idiotic loser, to be exact. You were the prettiest sight his eyes ever laid eyes on. Even from across the room, he had known that, but getting to see you without craning his neck in between the dancing bodies was like a punch to his gut.

He felt lovesick, mouth held slightly agape as he gawked at you like a work of art. Entranced by the flecks of glitter that swooped over your lids and the high points of your cheeks. But it was your eyes that mesmerized him, piercing into his own and holding them like it was the only thing you wanted to do even if he was the one that was enraptured.

“Do y-you wanna dance?” He proposed, clearing his throat and blinking after what seemed to feel like an eternity of not.

His shoulders pulled into himself, looking back at the dance floor, then back to you hoping you wouldn’t turn it down because then his heart really wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Your lips pressed into a tight smile, nodding without hesitation.

“Yeah, sure.”

His chest rose and fell with a relieved puff of air, finally dragging his hands out of its confines as he held them out towards you. You gladly took them, letting him lead you through the figures and into an open spot.

Instinctively, when you both settled, your arms went around his neck, feet already moving back and forth to the beat of the song as his warm hands settled around your waist and he began following along. It wasn’t anything complicated, a simple side-by-side motion that felt surprisingly comfortable for something that was usually so intimate.

Steve kissed his teeth, stretching his neck outwards as his eyes darted around, prompting you to furrow your brows and follow his sights, trying to see what he was getting at. You had thought maybe he was second guessing his invitation to you.

Then he finally spoke, “Is your date gonna come out of the bathroom and beat me up for asking you to dance?”

Worried filled orbs drifting back to you as you rolled your eyes playfully, not as anxious as you were just a few moments ago.

“I don’t have a date tonight.” You replied, watching as he looked at you stumped, his brows pulled together, a baffled crease forming between them.

“How?”

“What?”

“How could someone not ask you out to prom?” He shook his head, still clearly confused by the information that he just couldn’t believe.

“Says you, Mr. Popular.” You teased with a smirk, “I really hope you don’t secretly have a date who’s going to accuse me of stealing you.”

Steve barked out a laugh, shaking his head, “I promise, I don’t.”

You nodded, happy with his answer—and even more happy that he was enjoying the dance as much as you.

“I don’t think I put myself out there enough,” you blurted out, wincing at your brutal honesty that you wished you had cushioned slightly.

His head tilted, staring at you puzzled at what you meant. “Huh?”

“That’s why I think no one asked me out to prom.”

You bit down on your lip, hoping he didn’t just ask you to dance out of pity, because then it would be totally embarrassing to leave him with that thought.

Yet Steve didn’t budge the way you thought he would. Instead, he shook his head undoubtedly, lips tugging up into a sincere smile as if he knew.

“That can’t be true.”

You spoke just soft enough for him to hear, eyes batting up at him, “How do you know?”

“Cause I’m a total stranger who asked you to dance while I was having a full-blown anxiety attack on the inside worried you would say no.”

He blurted his words out without a second thought. Voice so firm without any stammering to suggest he was trying to play up the sympathy for you.

Your eyes widen at the confession, mouth forming a smile that you couldn’t seem to hold back even if you tried your very best. There was no way that Steve Harrington was nervous to ask you to dance.

That just didn’t seem plausible given what you have heard. All the swooning and giddy stories that came from whispers in the hallways, and now suddenly you were there right in front of him. He was already making you dizzy in a way you hadn’t felt before.

“You’re joking!” You laughed, smacking his chest lightly as he shook his head.

“Honest to god!” He promised you, letting one hand leave your side as he gripped your wrist, keeping your hand on his heart.

With a little more pressure, he urged you to press down and feel the truth.

“My heart is beating out of my chest, right now.”

You could feel the thump even past his silly pocket square. It definitely wasn’t at a resting beat. It felt as if it was jumping out, as if it wanted to escape the confines of his chest and be one with yours.

Oh, Steve Harrington was making you sick with the love bug, and you didn’t know if you would ever be cured of it.

Your cheeks were burning from the ceaseless smile that spilled upon your lips. Even when you tried to bite on the inside of your cheek to fight it off, you just couldn’t seem to do it. Pulling your eyes away from his bashfully, he finally let your hand return to its place around his neck, yet his own smile didn’t falter either.

“Well, I’m really glad you noticed me,” you breathed, finding it in yourself to look up at him still star-struck by everything that happened in a matter of minutes.

“You definitely just made my night.” You added kindly, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes to place a glossy peck on his cheek.

His arms tightened around your waist, not wanting to let you go even as the song slowly died out, “It doesn’t have to end tonight.”

“You think so?” You giggled, lifting your shoulders, wondering what you were about to get yourself into.

“I have a feeling.” He grinned, placing his own kiss on your cheek, hands not leaving your frame, nor feet straying away from the dance floor for the rest of the night.

Time seemed to pass so quickly after senior prom. Blurring between your first moment with Steve to the many you shared over the course of the following months, to then in his backyard breaking off pieces of white bread and throwing them out for the baby birds to snack on.

He admired you from his place under the umbrella, seated and keeping out of the sun while you both waited for his friends to arrive. He had been waiting for this moment for a while now, wanting nothing more than to introduce you to his closest friends, which felt more like his family.

The radio buzzed on with the generic hits, its volume low despite his home being tucked away from the rest of the neighborhood where they couldn’t hear. Part of him just didn’t want to scare the birds off while you were busy making sure they had the proper amount of carbs for the day.

Only then when the familiar song kicked up through the speakers, not only did his fingers instinctively turn the volume knob up to full blast, but he also was out of his lounger before he could even think twice.

“Steve!”

It’s a mixture of a giggle and a squeal, and you had no choice but to wrap your arms around his shoulders. He hoisted you away from the corner of his backyard, thankfully at the perfect time where all that was left was crumbs on your fingertips and the birds flew along to watch from the branches of the tree.

“You know the drill, sweetheart.” He chided, giving your behind a love pat, before finally settling your bare feet on the bed of freshly mowed lawn, saving your soles from the heat of the ground.

“We’re supposed to be preparing. This is like a huge deal for me.” You pouted up at him.

He casually guided your arms over his neck for you, acting as if he was paying no mind to what you were saying.

Steve placed an endearing kiss on your lips before draping his arms across your back, nearly falling into you as your bodies swayed to the music — the same song that played at prom, of course.

“They’re gonna love you, baby.” He pressed another kiss right below your ear, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“You know how long it took me to convince them you were actually real? They still don’t think I managed to get you to say yes to being my girlfriend.”

You smiled achingly into his chest, burying your face as if he couldn’t feel it through the thin material of his t-shirt. He didn’t know why you liked to hide so much, especially when you got all blush-ly because of his words, but if you were going to be hiding where he could feel it, then he didn’t mind at all.

“I just really want them to like me.” You admitted, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath of him in.

His fingers squeezed the dough of your sides, rubbing up and down gently, “If it makes you feel any better you made one hell of a first impression on me. Literal love at first sight.”

He could feel you smiling again, gripping him just a bit tighter at the need to have him closer, if that was possible at all. Steve was good at those kinds of things, ironing away any worries you had, whether it be about a big test or meeting his friends for the very first time.

In many ways, you just wanted them to know that you were making Steve happy, and you hoped you were making him as happy as he made you. Even after three months of dating, you still got shy at times, and you worried a lot about making a fool out of yourself in front of him. But he never would fail to remind you that he loved you from the very moment he laid eyes on you, and nothing would ever get in the way of it.

“Stop swooning me, Harrington.” You pinched his back gingerly, face finally coming out from hiding as he did the same and finally met your eyes.

“If you say so, but now I’m gonna start spinning you.” He grinned, standing straight and going to lace your fingers through his.

“Babe!” You giggled noisily, feet floundering around as he moved your body in and away from his, twirling you as you went.

There was a sort of carelessness to it, the kind where you didn’t have to worry about banging into other people on a crowded dance floor, and the one where you couldn’t give a damn about looking like an uncoordinated mess in front of him. All of that stuff didn’t matter when it was just you and him.

“So she really is real?” a voice sounded from the open gate where a group of individuals stood with pleased smiles blanketing their faces as they watched on.

“Hi!” you bubbled cheerily, attempting to halt your movements to save you the mess of meeting his friends that way.

But Steve didn’t relent, shaking his head with a smirk as he dipped you low while you shrieked.

Steve turning to face his friends for only a second as you tried to suppress your giggles that wanted to erupt, looking up at him from the angle you were in, all of a sudden forgetting his friends were watching.

“Sorry guys, it’s tradition. Can’t stop dancing until the song ends.” He revealed, as they all nodded with a laugh, letting themselves in and putting their things down.

“Don’t stop on our watch. I actually think it’s cute.” Robin tapped her fingers together not bothering to hide her smile at the scene of her best friend so happy with you.

“Kiss me?” He finally looked down at you, never letting his grip falter even a little bit.

“Hurry! Before the song ends!” You giggled, tugging him down by the neck connecting your lips before your back met the plush of the grass.

Steve groaned against your lips, while you laughed not caring about being smushed. After a few “sorries” were mumbled out to him, you pushed at his chest, sitting up on your elbows to wave towards his friends while he wrapped his arms around your midsection still wanting to hog you.

The boy with curly hair stepped forward, eyeing his beloved babysitter.

“Okay, we get it. You’re in love, now can we please meet your girlfriend?”

Steve rolled his eyes, pressing a final kiss to the side of your head before letting you go.

“She’s all yours unless the song comes on again, which in that case, she’ll be mine for 3 minutes and 25 seconds!” He called out as you got up and skipped away.

“It’s so nice to meet you all…properly!”

It was a special occasion… not the fact that you both were grocery shopping, but the fact that you were grocery shopping to have your very first meal at your shared apartment. It had been a long time coming, craving to have a place you both could finally call your own.

Sure, it was far from luxurious as his parents’ mansion, but it was yours, and that was what mattered. Its coziness was actually the selling point for you and Steve, the mere excuse to get to be close to one another rather than having to yell out from the next room when you he was away for too long.

He still thought it couldn’t truly be real. That it still had to be the night of his senior prom and he was staring at you from across the room with flashes of the future that he could only imagine, but this time it was actually real life.

“Baby, you good?” You snorted, chucking in a bag of chips into the cart noticing the way Steve stared at you blankly.

He grunted, blinking slowly before nodding, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He shook it off with a smile, still making no effort to push the cart. Thankfully, the aisle was all yours.

“You sure? You look a bit dazed, honey.” You frowned, pressing your palm to his forehead trying to feel for a fever.

He shrugged timidly, letting you do so even though he knew he wasn’t under the weather like you thought, “I dunno, I just can’t believe we’re grocery shopping for our place. Ours. Still kinda not used to saying it.”

You giggled, jabbing your finger gently into the dimple of his cheek, “Well believe it, because until the lease ends, we’re gonna be paying the bills like true adults.”

He grabbed at your wrist, bringing your knuckles to his lips as he murmured against the skin.

“And I get to listen to your snoring all night long and when we decide to nap during the day.” He teased, not missing the way you groaned and tried to pull your hand away from him.

“Don’t make me put you out on the couch.” You threatened with no malice, as he finally let your hand fall.

“You wouldn’t dare, you love cuddling me too much.”

The two of you walked further down the aisle, stopping again as something had caught Steve’s eye.

“Hey, we should get these for when you’re craving something sweet.” He spoke, plucking the cookies off the shelf, reading the label to see what flavor they were—they had to be your favorite.

“Baby?” He called out after not getting a response from you, looking around to see what you were up to before he realized you had set your purse down into the cart.

Your finger pointed up at the intercom, softly playing a song. The song. Usually Steve's ear was trained to listen for the tune, but his thoughts about finally having his dream come true must have distracted them—thankfully you could never miss it.

“Really? Here in the open?” He whispered surprisingly, looking down both ways seeing a few customers walking by minding their business.

You nodded with the shrug of your shoulders, smiling as you reached out for him. “Yeah, who cares? It’s our song, and it’s tradition, right?”

“Right.” He said, slowly a smirk floating on his face as he set down the box of cookies into the cart, making his way over to you.

The song isn’t as clear as it would be being blasted through the stereo system of his car or the speakers at senior prom, but the melody alone evokes a movement that is second nature to you both. His hands on your waist, yours snug around his neck, feet moving side-to-side.

You smiled up at him fondly, loving every dance you share, but you couldn’t help but to make sure that one stuck to memory a little funnier than the other times.

“But for our sake, let’s try to keep it PG. I really don’t want to be banned from the nearest grocery store because we were making out in the middle of the snack aisle.” You warned, watching as his nose scrunched up and laughter erupted from him.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He promised, stealing just one kiss, promising he’d make it up to you at your home later.

The sand felt foreign against your feet and so did the salty water residue that clung to your skin. Sun beating down on you in a way that didn’t make you feel sticky or gross like usual Indiana. All of it felt so different, but you couldn’t imagine it without Steve.

The two of you managed to get away from Hawkins for a week. Your schedules aligning perfectly and so did your bank accounts. It wasn’t a complete tropical vacation, but it was out of state, where there was an actual beach where you could see the waves coming in and the horizon looking out.

“Pinch me. This feels like a dream.” You sighed, shaking your head up at the sky in disbelief, trying to commit every detail to memory not knowing when you’d get to experience this again.

Steve chuckled softly beside you, throwing his arm across your shoulders instead. “You always smack me when I pinch your butt,”

“Shut up.” You shook your head with a smile, looking over at him in all his summer glory.

Shirtless, swim trunks sitting perfectly over his waist, as his skin was peppered with the same bits of salt and sand that was on yours.

“Lover’s Lake can’t compare to this can it?” He raised his brow toward you, watching as you shook your head before looking down at what surrounded you both.

“Definitely not, but I will say your car appreciates the absence of sand.” You pointed out knowing how much the sand was more of pain than a luxury.

Steve sucked in a breath, shaking his head at the thought alone. “Oh, we’d have to get one of those heavy duty vacuums to get every grain out and those things are expensive.”

You shared a laugh, the both of you picturing the kids begging Steve to drive them out to an imaginary beach, following by the onslaught of sand that he probably would never get to fully clean out. Sure, Hawkins was missing out on a legitimate beach, but it just gave him an excuse to bring you out here to enjoy all by himself.

“Thank you again for taking me here.” You cooed softly, leaning your head closer to his chest, tugging yourself closer to him.

His laughter rumbled where your cheek rested, his other arm slinging around your midsection.

“Baby, we went half on the ticket.” He reminded you, knowing none of it would be possible if you both didn’t contribute.

“I know, but I wouldn’t have been able to come at all if it weren’t for you. There’s no one I’d rather be here with other than you.”

Steve grew up with memories of visiting a few states when he tagged along with his parents on their work trips. He had pictures outside every airport he landed and departed from, and even more at famous landmarks and cities, yet none of them came close to touching you.

You were an entirely different planet in his eyes. You took him places he never would have ever imagined going—growing up and taking on the world with a sort of fearlessness as long as you were by his side.

There was no other way to describe it to you, and even if he tried, he was sure he wouldn’t make much sense.

But to put it simply, there was no place on Earth or any other universe out there where he could imagine himself without you. Even if you both were stuck in Hawkins for the rest of eternity, he’d be content knowing he’d be waking up and falling asleep right beside you every day.

“You’re getting all sappy.” Steve brought his hand up to smush your cheeks together, smiling down at you as you puckered your lips asking for a kiss to which he granted you immediately.

“I love you so much.” You whispered against his lips, pressing a little firmer into him as if you were trying to prove it in the kiss itself—but he already knew it by heart.

“I love you a lot more,” He promised you, lacing his fingers against your jaw, cradling you closer until you both pulled away, catching your breathes and taking each other in.

Steve looked back at the messily packed beach bag resting on the laid out towel.

“I think this calls for a dance, yeah?”

Before you could respond, he left you for a just a second, bending down to reach beneath your packed clothes and pulling out the Walkman he had borrowed from Max for the week.

“You record the song on a tape?” You laughed endearingly, watching as he unraveled the headphones carefully and propped it up on the bag, turning it up to full blast.

“The things I do for love.” He smirked, pressing play as the fuzzy music played softly against the wind and waves.

The sand felt foreign against your footsteps, yet your moves felt like breathing, something you didn’t need to second guess even out there where everything felt brand new. Your soft singing filled the air, Steve humming along with you before he swiftly spun you into his chest.

You swayed into him, holding the moment of you wrapped up in his arms and giggling at the kisses he spoiled you with. Your arms finally loosened on their own accord, spinning yourself away from him, but his arms had untangled from yours.

Funnily enough, when you turned around to see if he had slipped away because of the uneven ground, he was in fact on his knee, holding out an opened box with a shiny ring sitting inside it, waiting to fit itself on your finger.

“Will your marry me and give me a lifetime of dances?”

If someone would have told you years ago that you would be getting married to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, you would have told them they were out of their minds. Yet there you and Steve were.

It wasn’t anything extravagant, in fact it was intimate. Close friends and family gathered for the day in a small chapel to watch and listen as you and Steve read out your vows and sealed the deal with rings and a kiss, followed by a celebration at a nearby banquet hall.

Steve had shed more than a few tears as he watched you walk down the aisle, mouthing the words, “I love you” countless times until you finally reached him at the altar. It took everything in him to starve off kissing you right then and there because it was all he wanted to do.

Truth be told, Steve’s heart had always been yours, even before he even realized that he was going to be spending the rest of his life with you. He knew it the second he saw you from across the room and mustered up the gut to ask you to dance. Honestly, from that point on, he knew he was yours.

“And now for their first dance. Please welcome for the first time Mr. and Mrs. Harrington!”

The DJ was no other than Eddie Munson, a close friend of yours who offered to take on the double role of best man and announcer for the special occasion. Before you and Steve could even tell him what your first dance song was going to be, he had already known what it was.

He and the rest of your friends had been witness to the countless amount of times you and Steve had broken out into a dance no matter the time or the place.

Your loved ones clapped and cheered, watching from their places on the outskirts as you and Steve walked hand in hand, cheekily smiling at everyone who was about to bear witness to the most romantic dance of all time.

“Ready?” Steve squeezed your hand, grinning wildly as he led you both to the center of the dance floor.

You squeezed his hand back, letting the train of your dress fall behind you as you finally let go and draped your arms across his neck. “Always, baby.”

The piano echoed through the speakers, and soon Dionne Warwick’s voice followed suit. “I’ll Never Love This Way Again,” was the soundtrack to all the dances you and Steve had shared throughout your relationship — all 3 minutes and 25 seconds, spent in each other arms without a care in the world other than each other.

Your steps weren’t rehearsed, nor did you and Steve have to prepare for that first dance. Everything moved so smoothly, looping in circles and giddy laughter as everyone else seemed to dissolve in your peripheral the longer you spent out there in his arms.

It was enchanting to say the least. Your love story was like something out of the fairytale books that you used to read when you were younger, but you and Steve’s were much more special by a long shot. There was no one who could ever come close to replicating what you two shared with each other.

Whatever was in the air that prom night of senior year, love or luck — it fated you two together and from that point on, it was the first page of a story that would stand the test of time in every universe.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: this wip has been sitting in my docs since forever and i finally mustered up the motivation to finish it!! honestly i've been on a fluff kick and i really feel like steve harrington is a speak now girlie (and fearless, 1989, and rep hahaha) but enchanted it like his go-to romance song with his girl. i hope you like it and let me know what you think!!! 💜💫

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[redroses07]

Heartfirst // Johnnie Guilbert

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is best friends with Johnnie and is avoiding telling him her feelings, but it's Tara's 1mil celebration party and she seems to be having some newfound confidence.

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, slightly suggestive, drinking, use of y/n (i tried to avoid i’m sorry)

A/N: Hey guys, this is my first time writing for Johnnie and tbh I'm really proud of it! It took me a few days to finish and I really hope you guys like it. As always requests are open if you wanna see more of this type of stuff. Love y'all sm!! ♡⋆˙

You were at your house getting ready for your roommate Tara's party. She was throwing a party to celebrate reaching 1 million on her Youtube channel, and almost everyone you knew was attending.

Reaching 1 million was an amazing milestone for her and you were so incredibly proud. You were also a content creator with a solid following, but nothing close to what she had accomplished.

You were finished with your hair and makeup and now just had to decide what to wear. You were torn between a silky black slip, or a sparkly gold mini dress.

"Tara come in here I can't decide what to wear!" You shouted down the hall.

Tara comes rushing out of her room, always prepared to give the best fashion advice. She was already dressed but her makeup was noticeably incomplete, only sporting her signature winged eyeliner on one eye.

"Okay, show me the options." Tara exclaimed, clearly filled with excitement.

You went into your closet and emerged holding the two dresses.

"I feel like the black fits better, but it's kinda basic."

Tara looks between the two and smirks.

"Well which one do you think Johnnie would like better?"

Your jaw fell open, clearly embarrassed by her words.

Johnnie was one of your best friends, and Tara's too. You two spent an awful lot of time together, especially recently since you had begun filming together much more frequently. You will admit, you two had chemistry, and your friends and fans alike picked up on it.

You couldn't deny the not so little crush you had on him, but no way you were ever gonna admit that. It took you forever to admit it to even Tara, you would be mortified if Johnnie ever found out. Although that didn't stop Tara from pressuring you almost every day to confess. It was according to her "obvious he felt the same", but you refused to take the risk and find out.

"What! I'm just being real." Tara said, eyeing your nervous expression.

You shook your head, giving her an annoyed glance.

"I say gold. We can be like opposites cause I'm wearing silver." Tara pointed to her dress.

You smiled, throwing the black dress to the side.

"See I can always count on you to make my decisions for me."

Tara laughed and sped out of the room to finish her makeup.

You proceeded to finish getting dressed, and while you did you thought about what Tara had said.

Maybe it was time for you to finally stop avoiding things and fess up, at least you would know the truth. The only drawback was losing your best friend. If Johnnie didn't feel the same then that would surely make your friendship awkward.

Curiosity was beginning to get the better of you, and maybe tonight would be the night you would find out the truth.

You could've said speak of the devil, because right at that moment Tara popped her head into your room to tell you that Jake and Johnnie had arrived.

"I hope you're ready, Jake said they brought a ton of stuff and need help carrying it all inside." Tara said with a sigh.

Her makeup was now complete, eyeliner perfectly symmetrical on both sides and glitter eye shadow completing the look.

"Yeah hold up I'm coming." You replied, jumping up from your seat and sliding your feet into your black platforms.

As you headed out the door and towards the car, you couldn't help but contain your excitement to see Johnnie. This recent rush of confidence has made you more eager and energetic than normal.

When you reached the car the first thing you saw was Jake piling boxes into his arms, and Johnnie very loudly complaining about how much shit he brought.

"What the hell...how much did you guys bring?" Tara asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Uhhhh, lots of food, and lots of alcohol," Jake began.

"Let's just say I'm gonna get fucked up tonight."

Tara rolled her eyes, and reached into the trunk to grab more boxes.

You rounded the corner and crept up behind Johnnie.

"Boo!" You said, causing him to jump and drop the box he was currently holding.

"Y/N!" Johnnie exclaimed the moment he saw you, completely forgetting about the box he had dropped.

"Johnnie, that could've been breakable." Jake huffed half jokingly.

Johnnie replied by flipping him off as he ran in to give you a hug. He wrapped his arms around you tightly as if he hadn't seen you in forever, when in reality it had only been about two days.

You breathed in the musky scent of his cologne as the hug lasted a bit longer than it should.

You broke apart and took a long look at your best friend. He was wearing a low cut black dress shirt that showed off several tattoos on his chest. He matched it with black jeans, a silver belt, and several chains hanging from his waist.

“You look pretty” Johnnie gave you a sheepish smile.

"Aww thank you!" Him complimenting you like this wasn't unusual for your friendship, but that didn't stop your heart from skipping every time.

Jake walked behind Johnnie slapping him on the back of the head as he did. "What the fuck Jake." Johnnie snapped, rubbing the back of his head.

"You know what." Jake responded without hesitation, giving Johnnie a telling look.

You wondered what Jake could possibly mean by that, maybe there was something Johnnie wasn't telling you. Although it wasn't unlike the two of them to share an inside joke that was impossible for you to understand.

"Let's get back to work." You laughed pointing at the trunk.

Johnnie nodded, pushed his bangs out his eyes, and brushed your shoulder lightly while reaching into the trunk.

You, Johnnie, Jake, and Tara spent the next hour or two setting up for the party, the sun slowly disappearing as you came closer to being complete.

Just as the night arrived, so did many of your guests. People began pouring in in small, or large, groups. Tara waited at the door, greeting everyone upon arrival like the amazing host she was.

Unfortunately, without Tara, you could be pretty awkward at parties. You and Johnnie had that in common, which is why you found yourself hanging out in the corner with him.

Obviously you didn't mind, you loved hanging out with him after all. The two of you spent the early hours of the night attached at the hip, ignoring the busy sections of the party, and sipping on your drinks while making small talk with your friends.

You were on the way to refill your cup with water, fearing that you had had one too many when a clearly tipsy Tara grabbed your arm.

"Y/N! I've been looking for you all over! I need to get a clip of you to add in my video before I forget."

You happily obliged, excited that you were finally got to spend some time with your best friend.

She led you into the living room, a camera following the two of you.

"Come on, dance with me!" Tara said excitedly, throwing her hands up in the air.

You giggled, and joined her moving to the beat of the music. Tara only needed a few shots of the two of you for her video but she spent much longer dancing with you.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed until, a few more drinks and many songs later, your feet began to ache.

"Hey Tara, keep on having fun, I'm gonna go find Johnnie and then relax for a bit." Tara gave you a hug, just in case she didn't see you again that night, and then ran off to join a few of her friends.

It took you a few minutes of aimlessly searching to find Johnnie. When you did find him, you saw he was talking to Sam and Colby while sitting on your couch that had been pushed to the back of the living room.

You plopped down next to Johnnie, carelessly resting your pounding head on his shoulder.

"Hey look at who's back." Johnnie announced, looking over at you.

You smiled, nuzzling your nose into his neck. It must be all the alcohol mixed with the excitement giving you this newfound confidence.

You sat there for a moment, letting Johnnie finish his conversation.

While you waited you thought over the same situation from earlier, and suddenly the drawbacks to confessing your feelings didn't seem so bad.

Whether Johnnie felt the same or not he would always love you regardless, whether that love be platonic or romantic.

Sam and Colby walked off, marking the end of the conversation. Johnnie turned to you, and you picked your head up from its position on his shoulder.

"I think it would be best if we both got out of here." Johnnie got up, reaching his hands out to help you up.

You took his hands and allowed him to lead the both of you away from the chaos.

You followed Johnnie down the hall until he entered your room and shut the door behind the two of you.

You took a deep breath, it was nice to be in a calm space and away from the loud party. Although you could still hear the base pumping it was easier to ignore.

"This is much better." Johnnie collapsed onto your bed.

"Hmm, my room is a real creative way to get some alone time with me." You smirked sarcastically.

Johnnie's mouth fell open, his face turning red.

"Okay dirty minded." He retorted, fidgeting with his hands.

"As if you aren't" You snapped back playfully, plopping onto your bed.

Johnnie shoved you playfully, causing you to fall back into your pillows.

The pair of you exploded into a fit of laughter. The concerning amount of mixed drinks you had both had made the ordeal much more hilarious than it really was.

After several moments a silence fell over the two of you. You were laid back on your bed, Johnnie's body only inches from yours.

You may have been slightly drunk, but you were sober enough to remember your feelings.

You turned to face Johnnie, finding yourself face to face with his icy blue eyes.

Johnnie smiled at you, that signature, warm smile of his that you loved. The sincere, loving smile that he seemed to only ever use with you.

Johnnie reached out and brushed your messy hair out of your face.

"There, now I can see all of your pretty face."

Your heart stopped, suddenly all your nerves had returned. You were scared, scared of losing this, and of losing him.

You weren't going to let this stop you though. You had spent too long avoiding this, and today you would finally confess.

"Hey Johnnie,"

"Mhm"

"I have something important to you about." Your voice was shaky, and you were convinced he noticed.

You could see his eyes fill with concern, maybe you should have used less ominous wording.

"I've been wanting to tell you this for a long time, and PROMISE ME you won't make fun of me."

"Are you serious? After how long we've known each other what could I possibly make fun of you for?"

You turned away shyly, he did have a point.

"Okay, well this is different."

"Well then I have to know, spill it." Johnnie said as he nudged your shoulder.

You blushed, avoiding eye contact in order to hide how flustered you were.

"I love you Johnnie, not like a best friend, like in love." You spat out, still refusing to make eye contact. God you sounded like a stupid high school kid.

"Hey..." Johnnie whispered.

He cupped your cheek and forced you to look him in the eye. Goosebumps formed on your skin where his skin met yours.

"I'm in love with you too, and I have been for a long time.

Your heart felt like it was going to stop, especially since he was now so close his nose was brushing against yours.

You closed your eyes before taking the leap and closing the gap between the two of you. His lips were softer than you expected, and you hoped he didn't notice how dry yours were.

Johnnie pulled you closer to him, and you re-situated yourself on top of him.

You leaned down to kiss him again, but he stopped you abruptly.

"Shit!"

You looked at him concerned, wondering if you had done something wrong.

"I owe Jake money now!"

You began to laugh as your face landed in your hands.

"You two had a bet...about me?"

Johnnie giggled nervously, still underneath you.

"I'll explain later." He said, his eyes staring intently at your lips.

He pulled you down into another kiss, this one much more passionate than the last. You felt his hands run down your sides, grabbing longingly at your hips. You pushed your tongue into the roof of his mouth, causing him to grip your hair.

You let out a soft moan, which was followed by Johnnie flipping you over so that he could be on top.

Your lips not breaking apart once during the swift motion.

You continued to kiss him, your hands tugging at his shirt in an attempt to bring him even closer.

He began kissing your neck softly, as he reached behind you to fiddle with the zipper on your dress.

Just as things were heating up you heard the door swing open followed by an extremely loud voice.

"You better pay the fuck up bitch!!" Jake shouted cause the both of you to nearly jump out of your skin.

The two of you scrambled to sit up, adjusting your clothes as you did.

"What the fuck Jake!" You shouted, re-zipping your dress.

"Oh don't you start with me missy,"

"Tara come here I was right, look at them!"

You groaned, letting your head fall into Johnnie's chest.

"There, there." Johnnie patted your head sarcastically.

"Well, I hope you're okay with the whole world knowing." You say grumpily.

"Are you kidding, the whole world better know that I'm in love with you!"

You smiled, and kissed Johnnie on the cheek. If only you had done this sooner.

[shimonerin]

Behind The Glitters

Content: Idol! Gojo x Makeup Artist! Reader

Tags: fluff, slight angst/comfort, mentions of breakdowns and depression/anxiety, overall really mild (also really rushed and not proofread so I'm sorry TvT)

Word Count: 955

Being the makeup artist of idol superstar Gojo Satoru is not a feat for the weak. Styling the embodiment of perfection to perfection isn’t the hard part of your job, however. It’s having to deal with the person underneath that sparkly facade that made millions of girls cry and faint in concerts. 

You’ve been with Gojo way before he was even scouted into the industry when he was a teenager with his looks and charm alone. Considering the time the music industry will take from him, you’re sure you were going to part ways as he gets ready to make his first solo debut on stage. Only for him to grab you by the hand and look at the CEO of the company with determination in his eyes.

“You better have an open slot because I’m not performing without them.” He said, a slight smirk plastered across his face. Gojo was far too talented and beneficial for the CEO to lay him off so they agreed to put you as a personal staff for the idol.

Your dreams of making a simple life for yourself was, of course, probably not going to happen anytime soon as long as he’s performing on stage. And God knows how long he’ll stay.

And maybe you’ll call yourself a hypocrite when you realize the job wasn’t so bad. It pays really well and the only idol you get to work on is Satoru, leaving you with plenty of free time. Plus, you get to meet famous people every day, something you deemed close to impossible.

Holding Gojo’s face so close to you, his chin perked up on your palm as he stared at you with stars in his bright eyes. Meanwhile, your gaze was critical and keen, careful not to smudge the soft mascara you put on him.

People wonder, including him, how you can possibly go on with your job with someone like him. How you can just effortlessly apply lip gloss to his plump lips like it was no big deal.

You’d have girls fighting for your spot while you continued to fight Gojo because he’s moving too much and now his eyeliner is uneven.

“Such a pain in the ass.” You’d often tell him while you squeezed his cheeks and forced him to look up and straight at you. He’d chuckle like the cocky bastard that he is before subtly leaning more into your touch with a smug grin.

But of course, the music industry is far from perfect.

Being the embodiment of perfection had Gojo attracting so many unpleasant experiences like a moth to the light. The grating pressure of the spotlight, the suffocating comments from thousands of faces behind the screen, the lingering fear of failure always perched on top of his shoulder. 

At one point, he faced a massive scandal two years into being an idol. One that completely shifted the course of his career. Senseless gossip turned into rumors. Until it turned into backlash and now, he’s still dealing with personal contract and defamation issues.

It took him countless nights for him to calm down and recover. You’d been with him through it all. Through all the breakdowns, the burnt-out states, and that phase of his where he couldn’t be bothered to eat or drink something in two days. You were there, holding out for him every step of the way.

You’d cook for him, you’d quietly distract him from his guilt-filled thoughts even for just a little while, you’d sit with him during his court hearings. You even confronted the director of the company for him. And finally, after three months of getting his idol image back together, he prepares for his solo comeback. And he can’t help but feel that anxiety constricting his chest.

Satoru would sit quietly backstage, in his own private room, holding tightly onto your hand before that very performance. You’d recognize that glazed look on his baby blue eyes everytime. 

“Satoru.” You called out to him in a firm yet gentle voice.

He seemed to have snapped out of his thoughts, turning his head towards your voice. He looks so perfect today. 

Flashing you a soft, cheeky grin, he shook at your hands as if trying to shake off that feeling of nervousness off his shoulder “What? I’m fine!” He exclaimed “I mean, it’s definitely better than the…last few months.”

The group out on the stage just finished their performance, and right after a quick commentary from the hosts, Satoru’s next. You looked at him closely before brushing off a stray white lock off his forehead, tucking it neatly just above his ear.

“I know you are.” You spoke in a rather hushed voice, wanting to keep this moment as intimate as possible, even if it’s just the two of you in the room “I just can’t believe the things that happened. And now I'm looking at you and I just can’t help but…”

Your fingers trailed off to his ear and down to his blush-covered cheeks and you can hear him suck in a breath, albeit quietly. You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence when one of the staff members barged in the room “You’re up in two minutes.” They said.

You retracted your hand from his cheeks and brought it to the pockets of your jacket “You should go. Promise me you’ll give it your best for your fans. I know they’ve missed you.”

Satoru hesitantly got up from the couch, brushing off his clothes and breathing deeply. Turning towards you, he asked the same question, as he always does before each performance “Promise me you’ll watch?”

“You know I always do, Satoru.”

“Then I’ll put on my best performance. For you.”

[daughter-lilith]

❅In Every Life❅

Halsin x Fem!Reader | Modern AU, Parallel Universes Part 3 | Read Part 2 here

Summary: Another day on modern Earth as you finally wind down for the late night in your quiet home. All is as it should be. All is normal as you prepare for bed. That is, until a tall, hulking man with pointed ears shows up at your doorstep claiming to be your lost love from another time and realm. But he’s a stranger. A stranger who forever changes everything you thought you knew about your life.

Explicit 18+ (In future Parts)

CW (For whole story): Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tension, Oral, P in V, Shifting, Pain, Love, Halsin is Emotional!

Word Count: 4.2k

*Reminder, this is part 3. ⋆ a few tags for some (if you don't mind!) thank you to all enjoying so far! let me know if anyone would liked to be tagged for the next part. @stanfordscrush | @lanafofana | @catch-all | @thoughts-of-bear | @agathaharknessfan96 | @niki-is-a-reblog | @avabjorna36 | (some tags don't work but the thought is there haha)

Halsin sighed unevenly, leaning into your touch. When you squeezed your arms around him, he took it as an invitation to hold you tighter against him, sheltering you in his warmth. You fit perfectly in his arms, tucked beneath his chin, resting yourself against his chest, just like he remembered.

He rested his chin softly near your head and inhaled quietly, deeply. Taking in the scent of your hair, he was instantly met with a waft of memories as the light, citrusy scent with a hint of chamomile flowed into his nose. How it was possible that even your hair smelled familiar, he didn't care, all that mattered was you were in his arms again. You were safe.

He knew you must’ve felt the pounding in his heart, with your cheek pressed so sweetly against him. But he didn’t mind, he simply surrendered to the embrace, loving how your shoulders started to relax in his hold. His mind drifted to all the times he held you just outside of camp under the stars, or passed the time in the lively Elfsong Tavern while you and your friends gathered around the center, laughing and drinking all night.

You had helped him release a heavy burden after breaking the shadow curse, freeing him of his obsession to right what he felt were his wrongs. You released him from yet another cage, one of emotional and mental strain. With that newfound freedom, Halsin could finally allow his heart to seek yours willingly, without reservations.

Halsin couldn’t quell the smile on his face, visualizing the memory of your soft fingers tracing lazy patterns across his bare chest as you lay together. The morning sun would be peeking through the sheer curtains, casting a glittering shimmer across your beautiful, naked skin.

He’d lay there, one arm wrapped securely around you, and glance down to press a tender kiss on your forehead. You’d murmur sweet things beneath him before glancing up to grace him with your eyes, then leaning upwards to capture his lips. His heart would swell with the reality of you still being by his side, each and every day, grateful that it wasn’t all just a dream.

“It’s always going to be you, Halsin,” you whispered to him one night when his insecurities were starting to get the better of him.

Halsin had been a roaming man for as long as he could remember, when life made it painfully clear to him that good things were temporary, especially where love was involved. He let his heart run wild, free to connect with whoever managed to capture it, knowing one day they’d release it and move on.

Most of them just wanted the experience really; to say they once bedded an elf as large as a half-orc, who could also transform into a bear. And who was Halsin to not give the people what they wanted? They were just exploring nature’s bounties, something that he was very much a part of. And after the allure had waned, some slower than others, they always moved on.

But you never moved on. He didn’t want you to move on. Having you in his life opened a new way of love he had never felt before, had never received before. In all of his 350 years, he had finally understood why some people have no eyes for anyone else, seek no one else.

He discovered that nature was many things; ever roaming bees carrying pollen on the wind, traveling from flower to flower and sometimes back again. But nature could also be focused, still, where trees rooted themselves deep within the layers of the earth, rising tall and staying in place for centuries with the company of their closest loved ones all around them. The bear may not mate for life, but Halsin was not just a bear, and he wanted more.

You were all Halsin wanted, but still, he did not wish for you to feel trapped. Just because his desires had altered, didn’t mean you had to conform to them. He was more than prepared to continue sharing in your heart, anything to still have you in his life. But then you chose to stay with him after defeating the Absolute, and you continued to choose him day after day. You often reminded him of his worth when he couldn’t understand what he did differently to deserve you. His love for you only swelled to unbelievable heights, watered by the consistency of various acts of affection that you two showered each other with. Your love always overcame any hiccups and minor conflicts, rising above them and further strengthening your bond.

And standing there now, engulfing you in his large arms while recalling the past, it was enough to forget all that happened. It was easy to get lost in you again, to believe that he was still back on Toril and in Faerûn. His heart still desperately longed for you, his soul burning to reconnect with yours, sensing you were still there within. He longed to revive the fires between you, and to spend hours enveloped in your embrace, to make up for lost time.

“And my heart will be yours. Always,” Halsin would murmur to you before sealing his promise with a deepening kiss. Your warm breath would mingle with his as his lips would explore yours, slowly, intently. He’d chuckle as your tongue began tracing along his bottom lip, seeking entry which he always obliged, tasting you eagerly.

The image alone caused a sudden flush deep in his abdomen as hot blood flowed toward his hardening bulge. He stifled a groan, bringing himself back to the present as he remembered the brutal reality of this embrace. It was another goodbye; one he didn’t get the chance to fully have before your body so quickly faded from his arms, disappearing somewhere into the timeless space of the Astral Plane, becoming a permanent part of it… or so he thought.

Oh, how he ached to feel more of you, to let the softness of your robe slip from your shoulders, dropping to the floor. To have your skin against his… But he couldn’t, for you were already too kind to give him this much already.

Halsin shifted his hips, suddenly nervous that you were starting to feel him. Creating some space between your lower bodies, he hoped that he was discreet enough, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But despite the building heat filling his abdomen, and the involuntary reaction to your touch, he wasn’t ready to let go of you yet. So, he held you a little longer, inhaling your scent and silently reveling in how perfectly you molded into him.

After some time, he couldn’t be sure how long, you were pulling away from one another, both of your movements slow and reluctant. His chest felt colder without you, already missing the warmth of your cheek, wishing these clothes weren’t an unwelcome barrier.

His large hands held onto your much smaller forearms, your fingers returning the connection, both reluctant to separate. Halsin watched your face rise to look at him, your gaze was so innocent and yet full of so many emotions. It pained him that he had frightened you, or the situation itself rather.

He continued to stare at you, intense, imprinting your image in his mind, not that he could ever forget it. You looked exactly the same, save for your more human ears and how you wore your hair, but it was the same face he fell for over thirty years ago. Halsin looked down at your lips as they parted, anticipating your angelic voice to grace his ears.

“Will you be okay?” you asked tenderly, full of concern.

His heart skipped at your worry for him, even now, when you had no memory of who he was. Even now, when you were wrestling with a torrent of emotions, your life completely changing in one night.

Halsin tried to smile convincingly as he reassured you that he would be fine, so long as you were. His thumb rubbed idly against your arm. “Finding you at all is more than I could’ve ever dreamed of. And I will spend the rest of time being thankful, until my flesh finally yields to nature.”

He watched your chest hitch a bit, a gasp you likely tried to conceal from him. He stood with bated breath while your eyes roamed over his face, carefully taking in his features. He noticed you looking over his scars, then down to his lips, lingering there. Halsin felt himself twitch, the blood throbbing against his pants never waning. He almost leaned forward, severing the distance to capture your lips in a heated kiss. But with a quiet breath, he swallowed the temptation, uneasily rubbing his lips together.

Halsin was a master of restraint, especially if he was unsure his advances would be reciprocated. That was until he finally allowed himself to feel, all those years ago, after lifting the shadow curse. From then on, he lost himself in you often with abandon, only pulling back when he felt the bear stirring…sometimes at least.

But your eyes left his lips, shifting over to his druidic tattoo. He wanted to tell you about it again, like he once did as the two of you sat near the edge of a river, sharing stories before you ended the night with passionate lovemaking. But he didn’t want to further overwhelm you with more stories of a life you didn’t remember, a life that was too much for your current mind to grasp.

Halsin watched you lean upwards, still eyeing that side of his cheek. His heart skipped as you drew closer, and he bent down, assisting you as he tilted his head a bit. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the feel of your lips again. Though it would not be upon his own, he would not be greedy, thankful for anything you were willing to give him. The softness of your breath caressed his skin, sending a hot flash down his neck. Your lips, tender and a little cool, pressed ever-so-gently against his cheek. His skin tingled, filling with blood at the sensation of your soft lips.

But the euphoric feeling was cut short as Halsin felt you jolt backwards, nearly falling, but he was quick to catch you. Panic surged through him as he captured you back in his arms, carrying your numb weight. He eyed you frantically, startled by the shocked, faraway look in your eyes.

Your legs started to wobble, even as Halsin held you, so he guided you to the floor as gently as he could. Resting on his knees, he held one arm around your back, with the other hand coming to lift your chin.

“My heart?” Halsin breathed hastily, panicked, searching your eyes for any sign that you were there. But your gaze looked past him, a half-shocked, half-focused expression in your eyes. “What is it? Come back to me.”

He reached within himself, conjuring the magic that coursed throughout his essence. Pushing through his racing heart, he desperately brought his magic forth as golden light rose from his hand. He waved it over your face, closing his eyes, hoping to sense what suddenly ailed you. But a strange, mental force blocked him, thrusting him back. His magical light waned but Halsin did not relent. He muttered a spell, and bright, blue light now took the space of the golden one, and he pressed it to your cheek, hoping it would bring your consciousness forth.

But the gentle light simply caressed your cheek and flowed into your face, having no influence on your current affliction. His hands were trembling now, unsure what was happening to you but not giving up his efforts. The hammering in his heart was loud in his ears, fear rushing through him as you remained unresponsive despite your eyes still being open, the distant look ever-present.

Seconds passed rapidly, Halsin muttering spell after spell to heal or to remove a curse, remembering the levels to it that Shadowheart once taught him. But this did nothing to aid you.

A sudden thought beamed in his mind; to pick you up and open another portal to take you back to Faerûn. There, just maybe he could find the help you needed. Halsin knew nothing of this world, of its inhabitants, he wouldn’t know who to take you to. But if he went back home, there was already someone not far on the other side he could summon to help him, to help you.

But fear halted him. How would you react to this once you awoke? To find yourself in a world far from home without your consent? You were already afraid and overwhelmed, to wake up in a foreign place seemed like too much. He shuddered at the thought, hating the idea of you being angry with him. Yet, if it helped you, he would risk it.

But another thought challenged this… could he even open another portal so soon? He huffed, frustration snatching him entirely, mingling with the fear that gripped his throat as he held you.

Halsin leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, and breathed deeply. “My heart…please.”

Your body gave another jolt.

You felt strong arms holding you, suspecting them to be Halsin’s, but you couldn’t see him anymore. The familiarity of your kitchen was gone, replaced by a flash of white light that nearly blinded you. An intense force erupted in your head, and you felt yourself being thrust forward, like being pulled into a vacuum. But as you looked around, you could only see a swirl of lights rushing past your face.

You frantically waved your arms around, desperately trying to find something to grasp onto, hoping to slow your body down but to no avail. You were soaring through this strange wormhole of colorful lights. The speed was faster than you could comprehend, and when you managed to look at your arms, an ethereal misty light floated over your skin, moving haphazardly. It had the same shape as your arms, your legs, and your torso, slipping partially out of your body before being snapped back inside. Fear gripped you like a vice as you realized what you were seeing was you, or your soul at least.

This is a dream. It’s just a dream. But you couldn’t remember falling asleep. Weren’t you just standing in your kitchen? You were talking to someone. A visitor. A man. An…elf? A handsome face flickered in your mind. Halsin! Where was he? What was happening? Panic started to have its way within you, but you willed yourself to stay strong, mentally holding onto your essence.

Whatever was happening, it was not going to take your soul, you wouldn’t allow it. But no matter how quickly you moved through this strange place, faster than sound, faster than light perhaps, your spirit remained with you, flickering in and out of view but otherwise attached. Your mind rattled as a million random visions assaulted you all at once.

Lights passed, unseen faces flashing by. A new feeling emerged, a sense of awareness. No, these were not random visions, but memories…your memories. They zipped by, and you desperately tried to focus. Wherever you were, whatever was happening had to be in your mind, so you should be able to control it, right?

The bizarre, portal-like wormhole shifted, dropping you into another gravity-less tunnel. It was brighter there. Blue and purple lights swirled around you, and the images reemerged, flying along each side of you like old film strips. You willed yourself to focus, to grasp onto them, they were yours after all and you had every right to access them.

A warmth spread across your chest and your forehead started tingling. Through the chaos, the visuals started to slow, briefly, flickering in and out as if they were also trying to find you, to give you a clearer view. Time began to slow, allowing you a chance to analyze each memory, to pause time before it rushed past you again. Hundreds— thousands of visuals passed by, but your mind was faster, quickly deciphering what memories you could before they zapped away again.

You saw a city, buzzing with people, but it wasn’t like the modern one you knew with hordes of foot traffic and annoyed drivers. This one felt older, brimming with magic, where unique races of all kinds roamed the streets together. Baldur’s Gate. You remembered it! You lived there once. Then, it flashed away.

⋆

A quiet beach, warm white sands beneath your feet. You stepped towards the water, flinching at the sudden coolness. You were just outside of Baldur’s Gate, visiting your cousin who was already waist-deep in the water. They beckoned you to hurry up. The waves were calm today, the perfect time to swim along the shallows.

A massive shadow suddenly blocked out the sun. You looked up, some sort of ship with… tentacles? The Nautiloid. Your heart lurched. It abducted you that day.

⋆

Another flash. Gone was the sun and sandy beaches, replaced by darkness and worn stone beneath your boots.

“Ugh, I’m going to smell like goblin guts for weeks.” You knew that voice, it came from your left. White hair entered the side of your vision. Astarion. “This isn’t good for my hair, you know,” you heard him say, groaning in defeat.

Behind you, Lae’zel and Gale followed as you led them through a winding side section of the dungeon-like camp.

Gale clasped his hands, following closely. “Right then! Let’s just find our ‘Master Druid’ and hopefully sort out this whole worm-in-our-heads mess.”

⋆

A bear behind bars. It was angry. Massive. No, not just a bear, an elf. The one you and your companions were searching for. Your heart hitched; you knew that druid. He was your druid. His eyes found yours, body covered in blood and viscera. You reached for him, nearly desperate. The vision faltered.

⋆

Laughter at a campfire. You were dancing around it, arms linked with Karlach and Wyll as you enthusiastically skipped along the ground while Astarion’s skillful fingers thrummed away at his lute. You caught a glance of Shadowheart trying to convince a very stern Lae’zel to put her sword down and have a drink. And across from them was Gale, who looked flushed after one too many cups of wine. He had conjured a magical image of Mystra, sighing as he gazed sadly at her.

You remembered this night. They were your companions, your friends. Across the fire, you glanced at him, Halsin. He was smiling, pure glee in his warm eyes as he watched you all dance the night away.

⋆

A small boy stood before you, tiny, horn-like branches protruding out of his head. “Ketheric Thorm must die,” the young boy said. But not just a boy- something older, something a part of the land around you. Shadows. A curse.

A grieving father, a general, invulnerable no longer. He dropped his weapon and freely fell backward into the eerie, green pool. You sprang forth, halted by Halsin’s grip. The ground trembled. A skeletal god emerged.

⋆

It had been days since you first met Halsin in the forest, who stood waiting for you by a large tree. He was so nervous that night. The tall, large Archdruid of many lovers, whose stomach was in knots at the thought of confessing himself to you.

Your relationship reached new, beautiful heights that night. Now, you were running through a similar forest, your throat echoing with laughter and excitement, the trees whipping past your heated face. Halsin was sprinting behind you, a hunter. The chase was thrilling. You couldn’t wait until he finally pounced on you, trapping you under his weight. But you’d make him work a little harder first.

⋆

“You’re one of them? All this time?” shock gripped your entire being as you stared up at the illithid. Your guardian, or who they had claimed to be anyway. Betrayal. Anger. Pondering… A decision was made to give it a chance since it had been helpful thus far. But one chance only.

“Thank you for trusting me,” the emperor said, its voice powerful and reverberating through you.

“Tsk’va!” Lae’zel spat. “My people broke free from ghaik enslavement, and now I would ally myself with one? If it so much as thinks of betraying us, I’ll cut off its tentacles myself!

⋆

Gale brushed down his robe, then reached to pick up his quarterstaff. “Well, the so-called ‘Slayer’ is no more.”

You bent down, digging through Orin’s pile of gore for the glowing stone. You grabbed it and then tentatively scanned the massive chamber, watching as the other followers of Bhaal simply looked down at you, disinterested.

Behind you, the druid’s deep voice reached your ears. “You would think they’d be more… dismayed about the fall of one of their own,” he said, hovering over you as if to act as a shield.

Gale chuckled. “On the contrary, I think they rather enjoyed the show. But best we do not linger.”

⋆

Sorrow filled your chest, aching to console your angered, distraught friend-turned-sister. But you stood still, not wanting to pressure her. She needed to get this out, to verbally rage with abandon to anyone who would simply listen.

“He’s dead, and he’s no fucking sorrier now than he was before.” Karlach gritted her teeth, her orange flames brightening, dancing along her skin. “I’m going to be as dead as Gortash any day now. Any moment. And what then?”

You started to reach for her, but the image blurred, rocketing away again.

⋆

Falling through the sky, winds rushed past your face, gravity doing nothing to save you. Large arms enveloped you from behind, shielding your back just as you both hit the water. Your arms and legs kicked and flailed in the water, trying to steady yourself in the chaos.

But you were not alone. You calmed as you recognized you were still being held, protected, already breaching the surface with almost no effort on your part. Exhausted, Halsin guided you toward land, the two of you scrambling to get back onto the docks. Coughs and sputtering filled the air around you, and a giant moan blared across the water. A fallen netherbrain, defeated. A bright, electric flash blinded you as the brain finally succumbed.

⋆

Heavy breaths, needy touches, and racing hearts gave the room life. Halsin’s lips tasted your chest, your neck, your jaw, then back to your lips again. You pulled away a few inches, staring at him, the two of you still bloodied and bruised, his lips swollen from your kiss. You had won, no more than an hour ago.

The city was battered, with several miles of destruction outside the window, it would take time to heal, to rebuild. But that could wait. Celebrations were already taking place. The evil was defeated, and you urgently needed to feel Halsin’s touch again as soon as possible.

⋆

White lights passed by, like streaks of lightning. Another vision. You honed in before it could rush away. A bedroom, golden light filtering in through sheer curtains. Peace washed over you as your bare legs draped lazily over thick thighs.

Your heart swelled, glancing up at your sleepy-eyed druid. “Good morning, my heart,” he whispered before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Your stomach fluttered; heart happy. Twenty years of waking up in Halsin’s arms never dulled, no matter where the two of you were.

You broke the kiss to look at him, noting the lace of worry in his eyes. He hardly slept. You frowned, reaching to place a hand against his cheek. You already sensed what may be troubling him for it had been on your mind as well. “Did you rest at all, my love?”

Halsin breathed heavily, his large chest moving beneath you. “It was…difficult to.” You felt the pace of his strong heart begin to rise, ever so slightly. “We rejoin our friends and allies today, to take the fight to Vlaakith. I… I suppose a part of me worries.”

You smiled softly at him, full of understanding. It had been years since you faced such a foe. You had years of peace and bliss together since the fall of The Absolute. Not even your trip to Avernus to find someone to fix Karlach’s heart resulted in any remarkable enemies, completely avoiding Zariel’s detection. You stroked your thumb along the scars on his beautiful face, reaching back up to brush your lips against his.

You wanted to linger in this memory of calmness, to grasp onto it longer. But your mind’s hold was loosening, and just like that, it flashed away from you.

⋆

A sudden lurch forward, your body was thrust through a white light, eyes closing at the intense brightness. You fell roughly on your knees against a hard surface, hissing at the contact. Upon opening your eyes again, you half-expected to be back on your kitchen floor, back on Earth. But as your vision cleared, instead of the ceramic tile flooring beneath you, there was dark rock and dirt. A tingling sensation ran down your arms. You lifted your hands, palms up, watching as blue sparks of lightning flickered between your fingers, eager to shoot out at anything you commanded it to. But things felt different this time. You weren’t simply watching a memory anymore; you were living it.

Part 4 here!

Note: I must admit, I'm very eager to post the next part. I hope I can edit and have it up within the next two days. Thank you again to everyone reading!

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, secret relationship, and NSFW.

~*~

Calendars, planners, post it notes, journals, scrap paper, napkins — hell, even an essay at your therapist’s office to weigh out the pros and cons. Reminders to not give in, don’t do it, the level of condemn you’re just sinking onto your knees for. He’s not good for you, he doesn’t love you, and you tell yourself every single day when you wake up with him on your mind, where he takes control of your dreams, to the moment that your eyes open from a shaky slumber. Nothing helps. No one can help you. Only him…

You let him pick you up in his shitty truck, maneuvering you into the same positions, until he ends up dragging your ass over the end of the passenger seat like he normally does, and stands with his pants below his own, fucking you with a deeply rough precision as you cling to the floorboard, and try not to get yourself upset at his predictable rejection of your attempt to grasp his door frame - clutching hand. It doesn’t work, it never works.

And Gator can see through you, emotions not readily available to him yet. He wants to, but he just… can’t.

His hair has come undone, strands flopping, gel clinging to the ends, irises in shards and glittering under the streetlights. You can only see the plush of his firmly trim thighs, all hairy and matching to what’s on his chest. But you can’t see, cannot feel his ass. You need him closer. You’re doe eyed and staring him down before you can stop it.

You won’t do this anymore, will you? This has to be the breaking point.

“Come on, stop lookin’ at me like that,” his accentuated voice punches through the air in pants. Diaphragm deep, he slows his rhythm with a groan.

You let your eyes lift to the clothing ceiling, various tears being counted to self-distract.

“I’ll let you kiss me tonight. Will that help, sour puss?”

It jumpstarts your heart more than you’d like to admit, feelings way deeper surfacing. You tighten around him, and it’s enough for him to lean in, pinching your chin in his hold, calloused thumb pulling down your bottom lip and releasing. His tongue slides across his mouth, then he’s leaning, hands sliding from the door frame the second that you cup his jaw in your hands, pressing your mouth to his, taking his offer for all that it’s worth. He gets into it more than he’s prepared for, falling into you, only for you to stop and lift your legs around his waist, hands moving, eyes glancing down as you push his pants completely below his ass, squeezing the fat with a defined moan into his mouth.

“Yeah? That what you wanted to do?” He grits, biting into your bottom lip to claim. “You needed to feel up on my ass, baby?”

“Like this. Do it to me like this.” You go for it, letting him know you can’t lean back, that he has to go chest to chest with you.

He clicks his tongue as you part with a string of shared saliva, tilting his head to object. “Please, Gator?” Your fingers move from his jaw to pressing into his lips.

There’s a look that comes over him, one you’ve never seen before. Melancholy, deprived, rawly pure. He inclines his head to agree, gulping, tumbling ass over elbow (he’s never been very coordinated). You can smell him this close — all Old Spice and hair gel, acidic fruit and chew mingled on his breath, layering on your tongue. He brings you back in with a massive palm around your nape, thumb caressing your jawline, and he moves, taking you with him. The intensity doubles when it’s he who brings his mouth back to yours, unrelenting now that he’s had your taste again.

He promises himself it’s just this last time with you, like he always does. But he knows it’s a lie…

You both know…

[ladychota]

Remember It All

Pairing - Loki x Female Reader

Warnings - Memory loss (lmk if you want me to add anything)

Summary - Y/n is working at the coffee shop with MJ when a mysterious visitor arrives to order drinks.

Word Count - 1.2k

Masterlist

"So... did you guys get in to MIT?" You ask, fiddling with the bandage wrapped tightly around your left hand.

"Nope," MJ tosses her letter into the bin nearby. "Neither did Peter or Ned,"

You sigh. "Ugh, I'm so annoyed that the world believes all that Mysterio crap. If only it hadn't affected you all so,"

MJ hums in agreement. "It's okay. I was kinda expecting it anyways,"

"You expect disappointment so you'll never be disappointed?" You quote the line she has said so many a time, especially since the whole Spiderman and Mysterio nonsense. You feel for Peter - he's a nice kid.

"Mhm, exactly,"

The shop's doorbell chimes as someone walks in, hands in their pockets to stave off some of the winter cold.

"I'll get that. You take as much time as you need, okay?" You say, walking over to the counter.

A man stands in front of it, scanning the menu. He has black, shoulder length hair and his eyes are a stunning - almost familiar - green. You swear you've seen him before, but where? Every soft curve and smile line in his face looks right... except the deep bags under his eyes. For some reason you want to place your hand on his face and smooth them out...

But this man is a stranger. You don't even know his name.

"Hey, how can I help?" You ask, brushing away your odd thoughts.

"Uh hi, can I-" He turns to you and freezes, eyes wide. He just stands there in silence for a few seconds, his eyes scanning your face. Normally you'd find this rather creepy, but this feels strangely... right.

The man turns away and looks out of the shop window to where a man with long, blonde hair stands. He beams at the man in front of you.

"Um..." He hums, turning back to you. "Could I have two coffees... please? The name is Loki,"

You nod and start preparing the drinks, trying to ignore the gaze of the man behind you. Loki... that name is also very familiar. But you have no idea why; it's getting rather frustrating.

In no time at all, the coffees are ready; you place them on the counter and secure the lids.

"Loki?" You call. He doesn't respond. "Loki? Your coffees," He seems to jolt from his thoughts, striding over quickly to pay. 

"Of course, sorry. And thank you," He slides a ten dollar note onto the counter, a sad grin playing on his face. "Keep the change,"

You nod and open the till, picking up the money and sliding it in. "Thanks,"

"Uh... are you alright?" You look up, noticing that Loki now wears a concerned expression. He points at your bandage-bound hand.

"Oh! Yes, thanks. You know, I don't actually know how I did it. I just kind of... woke up one day and I had a huge gash in the middle of my palm," You chuckle at the strangeness of the situation, thinking of the other random cuts and bruises all over your body.

"But it's okay," You continue, for some reason feeling safe to talk in such detail to this man. "It doesn't hurt too much anymore. And I can use it just fine!"

Loki smiles a sad yet happy smile; one that looks as if he's yearning for something but knows he can't have it - possibly for the better.

"Well, I'm glad it's healing well," He picks up the drinks he ordered. "And, uh-" He clears his throat. "Thank you... for everything,"

He smiles, his eyes glittering with... tears? Is he upset? But, as much as you are worried for him, you are extremely confused. Why is he so thankful? All you did was make him some coffee and spit out some sob story about your injury.

Your brow furrows, but you smile anyway. "No problem..."

Usually you wish customers a good day before they leave the shop, but you seem to be frozen as you watch him walk out, handing one of the drinks to the blonde haired man as they walk out of sight.

"What the hell was that about?" MJ calls across the shop, speaking your thoughts aloud.

You shake your head slowly, your gaze stuck to where the man just stood. "I have no idea..."

Snapping out of your daze, you grab a donut in a serviette and place it on the counter in front of MJ.

"Thanks," She says, picking up the food. "Honestly though, he's either a creep or a long lost lover of yours,"

"Really? A long lost lover?" You laugh, your smile not reaching your eyes.

A long lost lover...

Suddenly an image pops into your mind of you and Loki sitting exactly where you and MJ are now, his hand clasped in yours on top of the counter. A small, loving smile plays on his lips as you talk, his thumb rubbing slowly over your knuckles.

"Well, duh." MJ jokes. "I mean-"

You don't hear her finish that sentence. Image after image of you and Loki fly through your head - it feels as if you've been hit by a bolt of lightning, each memory shuddering through you like electricity.

Before you can even process what you're doing, you're running towards the door.

"Wait, Y/n! Where are you going?!" MJ calls out to you.

"I'll be back!" Is all you manage to say as you slip through the door and begin to run down the street.

You and Loki were dating! You were a thing! He was yours and you were his...

And yet, you forgot. How the hell did you forget!?

But that is a concern for later. For now, you have to catch up with him.

You push past everyone on the sidewalk until you see the two men up ahead. Thor and Loki...

"Loki! Wait!" You yell, not caring who hears or sees.

Your thoughts and memories are too jumbled up to know exactly how long it's been since you forgot, but for a while you've been feeling as if something has been missing. Moreover, someone.

The two Gods turn upon hearing your shout, their eyes wide with confusion. Panting, you come to a stop in front of them.

"Y/n? Are you quite alright?" Loki asks, a spark of realisation flaring in his eyes. But he doesn't dare ask for fear he's being too hopeful. 

A smile crawls onto your face, tears springing into your eyes as you realise how much you've unknowingly missed him.

"Y-you... me..." You're still panting after having run down the block, words not forming correctly in your mouth.

Loki just watches you, handing his coffee cup to Thor and waiting patiently for you to finish your flustered attempt at a sentence.

Instead, you reach up and place a hand on his face. He doesn't flinch away, but leans in to your touch, tears welling at the bottom of his eyes.

"I remember... I remember it all..." Your voice is strained and choked by tears. Loki's hands cup your face, his thumbs running over your cheeks and collecting the wet trails.

"You do?" He whispers.

You nod, moving your hands to cover his. He lets out a bewildered laugh before leaning down and smashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss.

Eventually he pulls away, murmuring: "I love you, my darling... and I'm so sorry,"

"It's alright, you have nothing to apologise for," You reassure, your heart swelling. "I love you too," Your lips meet his once more as you decide to never let go of him again.

~★~

A/N - Not sure how I feel about this one so feel free to let me know your thoughts! :)

[cyberrose2001]

TFP Optimus x human!fem!reader

"ROSE I'M FREAKING OUT AAA I LOVE YOUR WRITING!! I am currently watching Prime so reading your Optimus fluff made my heart skip a beat! May I ask for more Optimus x reader (in a female perspective) fluff, and in a common situation like preparing for something humanly important (a ball perhaps)?? I don't got too many ideas but I would love to read anything coming from you! Please stay well 🌹❤️" - requested by @weaksall

Thank you so much!! This was such a cute idea! I found this amazing dress that I think is just gorgeous for this fic -> https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/706713366535507663/

I also didn't specify any hairstyles too because not everyone has long hair that they can style <3 I hope this is satisfactory!! 💕

Warnings: None! Just fluff

Word count: 1618

Today is a rather important day for you. Your work is hosting a gala ball to raise money for charity, and you are required to attend. You had never been to a ball and the thought of picking out grand outfits to wear and accessories has always excited you. Miko, of course, wanted to help you go shopping at the small selection of boutiques that Jasper has to offer. She may be into the alternative type of fashion, but the young girl has a passion for all types.

“Oh! What about this one, (Y/n)?” Miko drags you by the arm towards yet another boutique. You almost stumble as the stacks of boxes you’re holding pretty much blind your vision.

“Miko!” You laugh, “I think I have enough dresses to last me the rest of my life.”

“Oh, come on! You never know when you need…” She pauses to count the boxes in your hand, “Four, five…. eight outfits!”

You roll your eyes as you let her drag you into the boutique. Looking around, you don’t see anything that catches your eye. However, Miko is practically running around the joint pointing at different dresses and sending your mind for a spin.

“Miko, let’s just go.” It was your turn to drag her through the shop, as much as you love her, if you spent another hour dress shopping with her you were sure you would lose whatever brain cells you had left.

Before you could drag a sad Miko out the door, you spotted a gorgeous navy-blue ball gown that sparkled like the night sky. It had a heart shaped neckline with lace trimmings around the edges that tapered off to create a small off the shoulder sleeves. And by the all spark, you had to have it.

Miko followed your eyes towards the gown, and she grinned, “Do you want to try it out?”

-

It had been a week since Miko accompanied you to the boutiques and today was the gala ball. You had set up a small makeup station in the human area of the base, Miko of course going through it all trying to find the best shades of eyeshadows and lipsticks to use and making a mess.

“Alright, (Y/n),” Miko held out two sticks of lipsticks, “Purple or blue? Oh! What about GLITTER? OR- “

You wished you could rub your eyes in frustration, but you didn’t want to ruin your foundation, “Miko, sweetheart, how about a nice neutral shade? It’s a gala not a drag show.”

Miko dramatically tosses the lipsticks back into the makeup bag, “Yeah but you would look so cool!”

As you were applying your contour, blush and the colours of the eyeshadows that Miko picked out for you (they were colours you liked thank goodness), Optimus Prime had walked over towards the human area, curious about the commotion.

“(Y/n),” He looks around at all the different things that are scattered around on the floor, “May I ask what this is all for?”

You froze. You had not expected the boss bot himself to ask about makeup, Arcee maybe, but not Optimus. It doesn’t help the fact that you have been in love with Optimus since you first met him, but the way his eyes fill with curiosity as he asks the question warms your heart a little bit. You exhaled and placed the makeup brush you held in your hand down.

“Today is a really important event for my job, they’re hosting a huge charity gala to raise money to help sick kids.” You explained as best as you could to the bot, but you could read his face and tell that he was still a little bit confused.

“A… gala?” He raises an optic ridge.

“Yeah, it’s like a really fancy party.” You smiled, “You get to wear nice clothes, socialise with other people and- “

“And there’s LOTS of fancy food!” Miko butted in, “I’m talkin’ seafood, barbeques and sooooo many desserts…”

Optimus glances towards the young girl, then back to you.

“So, this gala,” He begins, “It is a culturally significant gathering for humans?”

You nod your head, picking up the makeup brush again, “Yeah, it’s a way for humans to come together for a cause, or just to have fun and make friends!”

Optimus hums and that makes you seem to think that he is satisfied with your answer. He watches as you delicately swivel the brush over your eyelids, admiring the movement of your hands. Your focus may be on the mirror, but you can feel his eyes on you.

“You mentioned nice clothes,” Optimus says, “Are you planning to wear something… ‘fancy’?”

“You don’t get to see that yet!” Miko perks up, she then grabs two lipsticks and holds them out to Optimus. “But you can help (Y/n) pick a lipstick colour, she doesn’t like MY choices."

You can feel your face heat up as you watch Optimus’s optics flicker between the two lipsticks with a raised optical ridge. You really do hope that Miko knows what she is doing.

-

It was noon, you and Miko had just finished the last touches and adjustments to your gown. You had brought a large mirror to the base so you can fully see yourself in the reflection, safe to say that you looked like a literal princess. Miko jumps up and down as she admires her work.

“(Y/n)!! You look so beautiful!” Miko squeals as she pulls you into a hug.

“Thank you, Miko.” You laugh at her energy, hugging her back. One would think that you were getting married by the way she reacts to you.

“I can’t wait to see what Optimus thinks of you.” She grins. You pull her out of the hug and give her a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Your heart is racing fast, “Why would Optimus care about how I look?”

Miko gives you a dead-panned stare, dropping her arms to the side, “Are you kidding me? Have you seen the way he looks at you, (Y/n)?”

Of course you have, but you’ve always thought that those were a different kind of stare, not because he… likes you.

“No," You lied, staring at yourself in the mirror again, “Even if he did, I doubt that he would have time for me, he is the leader of the Autobots… he has enough on his plate as it is.”

Miko rolls her eyes and leans against you, “Don’t sell yourself short, he is gonna faint when he sees you.”

She then takes your hand, dragging you out of the room, “Come on, it’s nearly time to leave anyway.”

You let her drag you out, what Miko said is now engraved into your brain and is now on a constant replay. Have you seen the way he looks at you?

Whilst you were distracted by the thoughts in your head, Miko had stopped you just before the door to the main area of the base, “Wait here, I’m gonna go and make sure that everyone is ready.”

“Ready for what?” You tried to question her, but she shushed you as she ran off. You’re awkwardly standing there now, occasionally fluffing your gown. You haven’t the slightest clue on what she is up to.

A few moments later, Miko calls out, “Ok (Y/n), come out now!”

You take a deep breath as you walk out, holding you gown to keep it from dragging on the floor. Your heart is practically jumping out of your chest.

You walk out to a crowd consisting off all of team prime, some are stunned to silence, and some are cooing and gushing about how beautiful you look. You decided to give yourself a boost of confidence and give them a twirl, the base of the gown flaring out as you do so.

“Wow, you clean up real good, kid.” Wheeljack nods with folded arms. Bumblebee and Bulkhead (with Miko perched on his shoulder) are practically swooning, Arcee is admiring your hair and makeup, Smokescreen is telling you how amazing you look, and Ratchet is scoffing about how silly this all is, but secretly he thinks that you look nice. Jack and Raf are also enamoured.

Optimus, however, is simply stunned to silence. His dermas slightly agape and a blue hue ever so slightly creeps onto his face. He loves the way the gown flows and the small intricate details on your torso, and he thinks the colour of the dress suits you perfectly. The lipstick he picked out for you was a classic red lip with a slight tinge of purple. And he now understands why humans were obsessed with the stuff; he could not stop staring.

You shyly thanked everyone for the compliments and noticed that Optimus had stepped closer to you and leaned down. You stiffen up a little bit as he held out a servo towards you, he touches the dress very gently.

“You look absolutely exquisite, (Y/n).” Optimus says, optics now staring into your eyes. Your cheeks flush at his words. You then gently took the digit that was toying with your gown and gave it a hug.

“Thank you, Optimus.” You smiled, you were sure that he could feel your heartbeat against his servo, “Do you think the lip colour ties it all together?”

His face flushed as you winked at him and then he smiled, knowing that he was the one that picked it out, “Indeed.”

Off to the side out of view while you and Optimus are sharing a sweet moment, Miko is holding out her hand so that a defeated Bulkhead can hand her an imaginary dollar bill, “Told ya he had the hots for her.”