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#anyway fuck u Netflix!! we didn’t want u anyway
diorsluv · 4 months
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feather , part 19
“ you act like a bitch ”
series m. list previous chapter next chapter
( socialmedia!au )
missseraphina
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liked by lhughes_06 and 674 others
missseraphina not quite golden hour but you make it feel like it anyway 🌅
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username16 i’m gagging.
username47 fuck no lmaooo
username3 so cringe
username92 luke isn’t even commenting he’s only liking her posts 😭😭
→ username96 i knowww like this has got to be the most embarrassing thing i’ve ever seen
username77 miss girl is trying way too hard
username30 ignore the haters babe!
liked by missseraphina
username25 i honestly would off myself
username81 god please tell me this is all just a bad dream
username20 this is my 13th fucking reason. i need my dryshughes crumbs rn
yourusername super cute! golden hour is any hour when you’re with the one you love 🥰
→ missseraphina thanks i guess? lmao and yeah maybe that’s why he always tells me i’m glowing
username1 don’t fucking tell me she just implied that luke loves her in lil drizzy’s replies
username6 there’s no way luke didn’t comment but his ex girl did
→ username49 lmfaooo i don’t think she’s his ex
→ username37 at this point she might as well be
username42 stopp this is so adorable
username21 so happy for u!!
username69 someone gouge my eyes out i’m begging
lhughes_06
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liked by jackhughes, markestapa, yourusername, and 77,298 others
lhughes_06 throwback time? 🫣
tagged: yourusername
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trevorzegras kid u make me laugh LMAOOO
→ lhughes_06 glad i could be of service
→ _alexturcotte fr this is too funny
→ colecaufield who needs netflix when you have luke
username56 I CANTTT they all see it as a joke
→ username84 it is a joke bro 💀 like luke’s just fucking around w mississippi
yourusername were u just keeping these photos locked up for months 🙄🙄
→ lhughes_06 i mean they’re not even that old tbh
→ yourusername aw just wanted an excuse to post me huh?
→ lhughes_06 dont even need an excuse
username61 DRYSHUGHES IS MAKING A COMEBACK
→ username4 I AM GOBBLING THE DRYSHUGHES CRUMBS UPP
username73 i just bet my friend $30 they get together by the end of the hockey season
→ username50 ur investing a lot into a relationship that doesn’t even exist yet
→ username73 key word: yet
missseraphina oh but the retro days have been over, no need for a throwback 😁
dylanduke25 i vividly remember you got us kicked out of the restaurant as soon as you threw her over your shoulder
→ lhughes_06 no you got us kicked out bc u squirted ketchup all over mackie
→ mackie.samo you stained my favorite white shirt and i’m still waiting for you to replace it 😒
→ yourusername that was your doing dyl don’t even
→ markestapa i thought it was because eddy kept screaming
→ edwards.73 BECAUSE DUKER WAS HARASSING ME
→ dylanduke25 🙁🙁
_alexturcotte i left you on the curb for a minute so i could heat up the car and i came back to you snuggling
→ lhughes_06 we were tired
→ yourusername WE WERE NOT SNUGGLING
→ jackhughes i mean you did look pretty cozy
→ lhughes_06 i was pretty cozy
username75 luke’s just stirring it up and i’m here for it
→ username21 fr cuz that other girl was bein a bitch to MY girl 🙄
username98 lmfaooo mississauga doesn’t even realize he dont gaf abt her
next chapter notes ) mississippi be doin too much frfr, but its okay bc luke dont even want her 🥱
tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02
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toaster-trash · 10 months
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@shotofstress
When I tell you I read this I saw it and I WHEEZED I was in TEARS and I shouldn’t be bothered arguing about it but quite frankly I’m trying to procrastinate anyway and I’ve had a god awful week and need to take out my frustrations somehow, ergo, I’m going be petty not because this person disagrees with my reading of the novel, but because they implied that in reading queer or neurodivergent elements in a work, people “can’t see the important themes that the novel is about” which actually does piss me off a fair bit
Right so first before we argue we’ve got to decipher because English apparently isn’t this person’s forte for someone who is, apparently, such an avid reader and esteemed critic of English literature. Also I just realised I haven’t really provided any context here so apologies this was in response to that joke post I made about mischaracterising Frankenstein adaptations (again yes the pettiness is not lost on me but I’m embracing it anyway)
“He is not gay nor autistic” cheers this person disagrees that Victor Frankenstein is either gay or autistic. To each their own. Wonder what kind of backup they’ll have for that argument.
“Pls stop seen representation of us everyone bc u can’t make the difference,” Right so this is where we get confusing, I’m going to take a wild guess and I think they’re trying to say “please stop seeing representation of us everywhere because you can’t make the difference”, and I still don’t know what “make the difference” means, but we’ll go with it.
“read nothing new”, alright so they’re saying people who see representation everywhere read nothing new, and then the kicker that’s kind of the only reason I decided to respond to this anyway, “nor really see the important themes that the novel is about.”
First off, “stop seeing representation of us everywhere”, let it be known that as I make a hundred jokes about Victor Frankenstein being homosexual, I myself am thoroughly through and through without a doubt bisexual as the days are long. Absolutely love men. Also adore women equally. So no, I am not a Disney corporate executive trying to squeeze in as many queers as possible for the entire purpose of using the fact they have representation in media to excuse the fact it’s a shite film but also, not trying to revisit every old piece of media to squeeze representation where it doesn’t really fit or make sense just for shits and giggles. (Also just saying, you made this comment on Tumblr. So even if I was just going haywire with lgbt headcanons on my favourite media with no real backup, who gives a shit? Who actually gives a flying fuck? I don’t. Let people live, man. It doesn’t mean they don’t understand the source material just because they’re having fun and playing loose with it. It’s Tumblr, not a Netflix adaptation. Let people do whatever they want and have fun with it. It’s cool.)
But like I said, I do have backup and a lot of it so let’s get into that, shall we?
First of all, whoo, autism. I’ll be real not really a hill I’m going to die on but the wording you put of “he is not autistic” is just ridiculous because yeah, no, there is a lot of perfectly decent ground to read Victor Frankenstein as autistic and a lot of people do, mostly people who are autistic or otherwise neurodivergent themselves. Just because in the 18th century people didn’t necessarily have the language for things doesn’t mean they didn’t exist, and I mean, now we do. So what’s the harm in using it? They had their own language for things back then, do we have to revert back to speaking in early 19th century English every time we want to refer to a character who was written back then as neurodivergent or lgbt or anything else?? What’s the point in that??
But yeah, Victor Frankenstein. I can’t even be bothered to explain and to be honest every single other person I’ve said “Frankenstein is autistic to” has immediately responded “oh yeah, obviously”, even my father who famously is just hypercritical of all sorts of headcanons just went “oh yeah no for sure the man is definitely autistic no doubt about it”. So instead I’m just going to include some quotes.
My temper was sometimes violent, and my passions vehement; but by some law in my temperature they were turned not towards childish pursuits but to an eager desire to learn, and not to learn all things indiscriminately.
It was my temper to avoid a crowd and to attach myself fervently to a few. I was indifferent, therefore, to my school-fellows in general; but I united myself in the bonds of the closest friendship to one among them.
From this day natural philosophy, and particularly chemistry, in the most comprehensive sense of the term, became nearly my sole occupation.
Two years passed in this manner, during which I paid no visit to Geneva, but was engaged, heart and soul, in the pursuit of some discoveries which I hoped to make. None but those who have experienced them can conceive of the enticements of science. In other studies you go as far as others have gone before you, and there is nothing more to know; but in a scientific pursuit there is continual food for discovery and wonder.
Like I said, self explanatory. It’s harder to come up with an argument for why he isn’t autistic than why he is, and frankly, what’s the harm in reading him that way? It doesn’t really change anything about the plot or themes, and his character doesn’t change. It’s just a very probable diagnosis for said qualities. It doesn’t change them, whether you use that word or not. The concept of autism was coined in 1911 anyway, so its not like Mary Shelley’s going to be sat at her writing desk in 1817 writing in big bold letters “BY THE WAY, FRANKENSTEIN HAD AN AUTISM DIAGNOSIS.” It doesn’t change the fact that people still had autism back then, just because the term wasn’t discovered yet. Anyway.
Now, second bit. “He isn’t gay” – now, if you read Frankenstein and thought “ah yes, this man seems perfectly heterosexual to me”, then honestly, sure. Go ahead. But to say that reading Victor Frankenstein as queer in any way means that people “don’t understand the important themes of the novel” is completely bloody ridiculous because, again, there is astronomical ground to read him that way.
Victor Frankenstein never really shows interest in any women in the novel, except for Elizabeth, who he has been raised, since he was five years old, to see as his “gift” and was told by his mother since he was a very young child that he was going to marry her – to the point where his mother, on her deathbed, tells both Victor and Liz: “My firmest hopes of future happiness were placed on the prospect of your union. This expectation will now be the consolation of your father.” Also, they’re cousins/adopted siblings. If you don’t think that’s fucked up, even by the standards of the time, I’m not really sure what to say to you. Of course he married her. And before he married her, he generally expresses very little romantic interest in her bar just expressing as much affection as you would a close friend or sister, or seeing her as his “gift” who he “has to be wed to”. Read any other story from this time period, in this genre, and you will not be remotely questioning whether they’re actually attracted to each-other or not. In fact, here’s an excerpt from The Vampyre, another book born from the same trip to Geneva that Frankenstein was, by John William Polidori, about the protagonist’s love interest:
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And that’s only part of it. So. Yeah. Victor’s lack of romantic affection for Elizabeth is not “a product of its time” nor “a product of its genre.” And The Vampyre is a short story.
And so you may be saying, “well, just because Victor doesn’t show any interest in women doesn’t necessarily make him gay”, and yeah, true that (ace and bi Vic hcs y’all are valid) but there is very good basis to take the reading that he is attracted to men.
For one thing, just the fact that he’s so particular about creating “the perfect man” is subject to a lot of queer readings in itself, but let’s be real here, you all know me enough by now to know that I just want an excuse to rant about Clerval and Frankenstein. And rant about them I shall.
First, I’m lazy, so here’s an excerpt from one of my previous essays I’ve written that I’ve never posted everywhere on Frankenstein in general:
Just as The Creature is Victor’s narrative foil, so is Clerval. He's equally ambitious and fascinated with the secrets of life, however he’s healthy with how he goes about it and healthy with how he keeps the balance between taking care of himself and pursuing his dreams, while Victor goes over the edge and neglects himself and his sense of morality to complete what he set out to do. He's supposed to represent the ideals of gothic romanticism in Victor and he's supposed to be his anchor and support, (something the Creature doesn't have), caring for Victor during his illness, (“reanimating” him, almost, once again showing that comparison between both Victor and Henry, as Henry “reanimates” Victor with compassion and cares for him after, and Victor reanimates The Creature in a haze of obsession and mania and immediately abandons him, showing what Victor could have been), and constantly accompanying and being sympathetic and empathetic towards him. I also find it very interesting how he does also seem to have those darker aspects to him, lying to Victor’s family about the extent of his illness and caring for Victor in his apartment despite the fact that, for all he knew, from the evidence lying around his workspace and Victor’s feverish rambling, he very well could have murdered someone, and Clerval chooses not to press him on the issue and instead to intentionally help Victor cover it up. The fact that Clerval exhibits these traits only makes Victor’s own downfall all the more tragic when we consider that it likely very much isn’t a stretch to imagine that Clerval, too, likely exhibits a lot of the same morbid curiosity as Victor; he isn’t a superhuman figure with purely positive attributes who is completely far removed from Victor’s situation, the only difference is that Clerval chooses to prioritise his own sense of morality over his selfish aims, which only emphasises the point that Victor’s downfall is, ultimately, Victor’s own fault. When Victor "kills" the Creature’s chance of the same support and love (his unfinished bride), the Creature kills Henry and sends Victor into a downward spiral of suicidal thoughts and heavy depression because the character that represented that stability, that romanticism, that balance of keeping healthy, is dead, and that throws Victor downward into his inevitable obsession with the monster's destruction and his own death.
On this point, I feel like it’s worth bringing up that a reasonably good case could probably be made regarding a lot of queer subtext in the novel, although I won’t rant about it excessively as it obviously isn’t the focus, the theme of love is a very prominent theme as I’ve previously mentioned with The Creature; familial love, platonic love, parental love, romantic love, and I don’t think it’s particularly much of stretch to suggest that Shelley, intentionally or unintentionally, might have added a lot more romantic subtext than given credit for. Not that it matters particularly narratively speaking what kind of love is portrayed, but in reference specifically to Clerval and the Ingolstadt chapters there’s a very good argument to be made regarding Shelley’s poor relationship with her own husband and how she may have projected a lot of her wish for that kind of care and sympathy into his character, perhaps not taking into account, or perhaps she did, how it would come across – author intentions are mostly lost with time and we’ll ultimately never know for sure, but even for the standards of the late 18th century when the novel was set and the early 19th century when it was written, “I desire the company of a man who could sympathise with me, whose eyes would reply to mine. You may deem me romantic,” and “your form so divinely wrought, and beaming with beauty, has decayed, but your spirit still visits and consoles your unhappy friend,” probably weren’t standard platonic sentiments.
And honestly on that essay excerpt, that still sums my thoughts on that subject up pretty much perfectly. After all, a character in a book talking about his best friend going “I loved him with a mixture of reverence and affection that knew no bounds” as well said best friend tenderly nursing him back to health, and the character talking about how his body is “divinely wrought and beaming with beauty” and gently pressing his hand and referring to him constantly as “my dearest”, “my dear” and “my beloved”, while living together and travelling together and talking about how his voice “soothes” him and “cheats (him) into a transitory peace”, pretty gay!
And yes, before anyone says a single thing, if it wasn’t already obvious from the essay excerpt, I do understand “the important themes the novel is about”. I do understand that there are more themes and characters and subject matter, and more than that, I bloody love it! Because this is one of my favourite novels! Of-fucking-course I’m invested in it on a deeper level than “ooOoooh what classical literature characters can I RUIN with my gay agenda today!” But you commented this on a joke post, a joke post, again, on Tumblr. No harm but Jesus Christ if there is a singular platform I can go on and just post stupid bullshit about two book characters from 200 years ago being soft and gay without having to justify that yes, I did in fact read the book, and shock horror yes, I do know that there are other themes, it’s bloody Tumblr. (Absolutely love you lot btw especially all my lovely fantastic incredible mutuals all your takes and readings and art is 👌✨ chef’s kiss)
Oh and by the way, op, I noticed you reblogged this:
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And to be honest if I had to say any take or reading was a misunderstanding of the text, it’d be that one (as well as “Victor is sexist for cutting women out of the creation process” takes – Christ that’s just gross. And feels mildly if not explicitly homophobic.)
So just for shits and giggles to counter that argument, here’s another excerpt from the same older essay as before:
Speaking of Hugo, it is rather interesting how many adaptations and literary criticisms seem to go down the route of the Hunchback of Notre Dame moral of “who is the monster and who is the man?”, suggesting that Victor is the “true monster” of the narrative. And, as much as I am a decent Victor Hugo fan, (I’m over 50% through Les Misérables, have you seen the size of that book? I’d have to be), in reality the point of the story is that neither Creator nor Creation are more monster nor man than the other – Victor mutilates corpses and brings the creature to life, and allows Justine to be executed without owning up to his actions, and The Creature murders a child and a multitude of other innocent people, Clerval and Elizabeth who had nothing to do with anything and Ernest left completely alone with his entire family dead. We can’t acknowledge The Creature’s sympathetic qualities without also acknowledging Victor’s, and regardless, sympathetic motivations don’t make up for immoral actions.
Also this meme, which I can’t for the absolute life of me remember who posted it originally I’m sorry I use it all the time in GCs whoever it was you’re so valid:
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icallhimjoey · 2 years
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U know I always thought a cute fic idea would be where Joe is on ST set and there’s some riveting scene where he’s rescued from the Upside Down. Yn is the person playing the character but staff have kept Yn hidden from Joe until this point, to build up the suspense and genuine surprise for when he gets rescued in the show. Anyways there’s a riveting scene where Eddie opens his eyes for the first time and yns face is the first thing he sees as she’s in character and “tending” to his wounds. Joe just absolutely immediately smitten like “wow didn’t believe in love at first sight until now” and then as the show filming progresses yn becomes a love interest both on and off screen 😣
the way i felt so awkward writing this because it involves so many people i dont know how to write for, my GOD i hope you like what i've done with it Wordcount: 1.6K
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Shit, that was hot
“Shh shhhh, guys, guys, this is it, quiet!” you managed to get the room quiet enough for the TV to blare over the chatter that had filled the air all throughout the evening.
“Watch that face,” you heard someone mutter from the other side of the sofa.
“It’s so fucking funny,” someone else replied.
You shot eyes at Joe who sat right next to you. He looked annoyed, like he was about to groan, but simultaneously he couldn’t hide his smile. It was adorable.
On screen, in the last episode of the Netflix series you all played parts in, you were all about to watch Eddie getting rescued from the Upside Down. By you.
It hadn’t been revealed to be you yet – not to the audience, as the scene was still working up to its climax, but also not to Joe or many other cast mates when you’d filmed it. It was the biggest secret you had sat on, and it was so difficult to not tell anyone all throughout filming. It had been one of the latter scenes you shot, so getting to know your cast mates had been fun, but the urge of sharing your exciting knowledge with others – never with Joe, you couldn’t fucking wait to see that face – had been almost too much to handle. There was a reason you’d be in quiet meetings with Matt and Ross so often. You just needed to talk about it with someone, just to get your excited jitters out so you’d be able to hold the news off for longer.
During filming, people had heard that there was a piece of script entirely blacked out.
“Ooh, that’s new.” Natalia had mused when Keery had asked her if Nancy was the one to save Eddie from the Upside Down. Natalia had reacted confused; was Eddie going to be saved from the Upside Down? That hadn’t been in her script.
“But look,” Joe had shown them pages of his script, which had so much blacked out dialogue, directions and even character names, he didn’t even know how he was going to rehearse any of it. "It's just directions for me- for Eddie, and then... it's all this shit. What do I do with this?"
“That’s the point.” Matt had made clear when Joe had gone to him with questions. “It’s such a pivotal part in the episode, we need to build maximum suspense and get your genuine reaction as Eddie.” They had skipped the full chuck at the table read and left everyone fully in the dark.
“You don’t think I can act surprised?” Joe had pressed them, instantly insecure at his abilities and his work up until that point, but Matt didn’t want to discuss it any further.
In make-up, Sadie asked if you’d heard about the surprise scene. You had to do your best to pretend to hear of the news for the first time. Amy and Sarah from the make-up department had listened in and you wondered if they knew – why would they need to, you thought first, but then you realized they’d need to get you ready for it when it was time to shoot. Of course they knew. But they’d kept silent, and Sadie hadn’t suspected a thing.
It almost slipped out of you when you heard Gaten talk to Joe and they were both so sure it was going to have to be Keery, the dude who’d asked pretty much everyone if they were the one that was blacked out. Surely, it was to distract from himself. Some sort of sick power-play, having everyone else talking about it and trying to figure it out as he got to sit back all-knowingly.
The small parts of the pages Joe had shown everyone before being told off by Matt and Ross – “Keep that to yourself, Joe. We hand people individual scripts for a reason.” – were perceived to be at least a little flirty. And who had Eddie been the flirtiest with throughout everything they’d filmed up until that point? Definitely Steve.
The words were so close to rolling off your tongue, wanting to pull Gaten aside and let him in on your secret, just to be able to shoot him looks whenever people would talk about it, just so you wouldn’t be suffering by yourself. But the NDA kept you from spoiling the surprise to anyone.
At the last minute, they had to let Maya know. Just her. She’d be on the call sheet as a distraction as to not give anything away to Joe. She didn’t have any scenes that day – you clearly had, but they kept you under wraps. They got Natalia and Joe Keery ready too, for a scene they had together, which still left Joe in the dark as to what exactly Eddie’s faith would be. And then Joel walked onto set, and Joe thought he knew for sure. “Of course, it’s uncle Wayne!” he said when he hugged him, but Joel didn’t know what he meant, and it left Joe with just as little of an inkling as before.
The day before shooting, and with Maya in on it now, you had to come up with reasons to explain your giggles whenever you’d make eye contact. “Maya broke a chair in the make-up trailer,” you said to Joe when you’d gotten strange looks from him. “Catering is doing a number on me.” Maya had laughed, rubbing her hand over her stomach, prompting you to laugh louder.
Your big watch-party of the series had turned into talking over whatever was happening on screen, reminiscing, and reminding each other of inside jokes, alternating with the odd silence when special effects would overwhelm you all to shut up and watch. And now the moment had come, where Eddie was about to almost miss his chance to get out and survive the alternate dimension. By now everyone knew it had been you who was the blacked out person with the blacked out dialogue and blacked out directions, but that didn’t make watching Joe’s reaction to it less fun.
You remembered everyone’s reaction on set when Joe was made to close his eyes as they called cut for just enough time to get you onto set, into the scene. Some of them had seen you be walked in, and had gasped, and Joe Keery had whispered "I fucking knew it," which had only added to the suspense Joe had felt in that moment. The Duffer brothers knew they could do more shots if they needed to, but the dream was to get it all in first go, just because they hadn’t put so much work into keeping secrets just for them to use a shot that wasn’t that first, true, genuine reaction.
When they called action, Joe needed to keep his eyes closed for longer as two hands managed to grab hold of him and yank him out of the situation he was in before shooting Hopper’s police weapon that your character had stolen from his abandoned house in the woods. You shot it right into the face of whatever monster the Upside Down tried to attack Eddie, which would be put in later by the SFX team.
“Watch his face, watch,” you pointed, as giddy as you could be.
“It’s the line, it’s so good!” Keery slapped his own leg repeatedly in suspense for what he was about to hear.
After the shots were fired, and Joe, as Eddie, had bunched himself up on the ground in self-defense, he had opened his eyes and had seen you, holding that gun, arm outstretched, the bad-assery practically dripping off of you. It had done something to Joe, and so that showed in Eddie’s face too – the cameras had captured it perfectly. “Whoa, I didn’t believe in love at first sight until now,” Joe spoke as Eddie in his heavy American accent, panting from the action scene. You had turned back to look at him, and you chuckled. “We’ve seen each other lots, idiot.” And you’d held out your hand to help him stand. “Exactly. But I just now realized I’ve loved you all along. Shit, that was hot.” And then Joe had pulled you in for a kiss that you had gladly accepted. It was the kind of kiss that felt like it would be the last kiss you’d ever have – like the world was going to end and you didn’t have tomorrow together. You remember being able to feel Joe's heartbeat in his chest, absolutely desperate to beat its way out of his ribcage. The kiss stopped abruptly though when it got called cut on, and had Matt and Ross laughing as they waved for the two of you to stop making out. They hadn’t included the kiss in the show, but everything else had stayed in.
“Shit, that was hot,” Keery quoted Eddie as he watched it, nodding along and his face showed how cool he thought the line was. It had everyone laughing, but Gaten was in hysterics. Joe was so embarrassed, and you took advantage, poking him in the sides as you watched his face scrunch.
“Okay, okay, all right,” Joe tried to calm the room down.
“Best bit of the show,” you cooed, your face too close to his for the company you were in. “Better than dontcha, big boy?” Joe raised his eyebrows at you. You’d gone on about that line endlessly after witnessing Joe ad-lipping it. “Mmmh, maybe not,” you said, leaning in and kissing Joe on the lips. You were instantly met with thrown over pieces of popcorn.
“You’re damn right, it's not.” Joe Keery commented, stuffing the rest of his handful of popcorn into his mouth.
The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 @thatonefan-girl @kylakins88 - add yourself
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crocadilioso · 2 years
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It was the afternoon, school had been let out and I had gone home to change and pack my bag. Our spring break had started. I walked to your house which was right up the road. I knocked on the door and waited for you to answer. I- Eren, 18 stood at the door way at 5'11 and had jet black short hair with hazel eyes and a great smile. I was wearing my lazy clothes, a black t-shirt with grey sweatpants with no boxers which made my 9' cock visible at time when I sat down or ran. I was toned and very fit. I waited paitently at the door.
The door burst open and you have to jump back to avoid it. You see me in the doorway, a 5’1 skinny guy with curly, shoulder length black hair. I’m looking up at you with a wide grin and you can see the sun reflecting off my glasses. I’m wearing my lazy clothes too but they’re different to yours, I’m wearing a white crop top and dolphin shorts, you can see a little bit of my red g-string poking out of them, and chick Taylor’s. You can hear my dad shout at me from inside to cover up when I go out and with that I grab my massive bag with a struggle and shut the door. I drop the bag on the floor and point my toes towards eachother and shake my hips “you excited?”
I blushed looking at you, only seeing you in this attire when we have 'sleep overs' I came in and nodded. "Of course why wouldn't I be?" I smirked back at you, confident I had built up confidence to be more assertive toward you today. (You coming over my house? Or are your parents leaving??)
(At this point, no one’s in the house and I didn’t bring a bag)
“Come in bro, I’ve been waiting for you” I walk back through the door and walk to the living room. I jump onto the couch and land on my knees with my butt on my heels, this makes practically all of my asscheeks out but I act oblivious. “what’s the wait”
I come in a d sit next you you very close. "Have any plans, anything you wanted to do?" I asked leaning back, looking at your ass, obviously starring at it.
I lean back and lay my head in you lap, grinning at you. “I don’t know, we could maybe play games or watch a movie or something”. I reach my hands past my head and ouch then against the arm of the couch. “How about you, we could order food too”
I blushed as you laid on me, I looked yout body up and down again. My hand gently rests on your chest, my other hand gently playing with your hair. "U-uhmn.. I'm fine with whatever. I-its up to you." I could smell your sweet scent as you laid one me, your figure looked so good in this position, I couldn't help it, the hand on your chest slowly lowered and caressed your side., rubbing from your hip up to your ribcage and back down
“Oh, you’re getting touchy. I don’t mind though” I grab the remote and turn on the tv. I open Netflix and put on the first movie that comes up. I flip onto my side and my hips are hurting out more now. “We’re just two straight friends anyway, right?”
I nodded quickly, "Y-yeah of course, plus we always say 'No homo' before doing anything sus." I laughed alittle. "As long as there's a 'No homo' it's totally straight." My hand eased down to yout hip, rubbing it softly before I can't take it. "N-No homo..." I gulped slightly reaching down and grabbing a handful of your big juicy ass, giving it a nice squeeze
I bite my lip and then jump up. I move over and sit on your lap facing you, my legs on the outside of yours and my butt on your knees. I’m facing you and lean in closer. “No homo, bro” I whisper in your ear. I grab the bottom of your shirt and lift it over your head. I put my hands onto your chest. “It’s not gay to grab my butt now” I wink at you
I nodded, grabbing your ass with both hands as I locked eyes with you, squeezing, rubbing, and spreading your ass apart. My cock began to grow under you, throbbing agaisnt your bugle. "D-damn... i-im not gay, but fuck is your ass better than any girls I've ever seen or felt." I shyly admitted as I could feel myself moving closer to you, my lips only a few inches from yours.
“You’re just saying that. You’ve not even felt all of it yet” I wink at you and then lean over, I kiss your neck and one of my hands moves down to your crotch, I grab it and look back up at you. “You like this huh? Just you wait” I arch my back more and lean in again, I start kissing your chest and lightly biting your nipples
I began panting as I gently rolled my hips, making my hard cock rub agaisnt your ass and bulge, moaning lightly as I held your hips "n-nm~ fuck~"
I grind on your dick and stop moving for a second. Slowly pull down my shorts and you can see the tiny thong that I’m wearing. “You like them bro? I wore them just for you.”
I nodded again, gently rubbed your almost bare ass. "Fuck... you're.. pretty sexy in these, I can't lie, but no homo tho, I'd totally hit." I gently spanked you before rubbing your ass more, my cock screaming for attention as it throbbed over and over in my pants
“I can feel you, you know, feels like you need to be set free”. I run both my hands down your body and they arrive on your easier and, I look you in the eyes and bite my lip. I unbutton your pants and your big dick stands up straight away. “You we’re going commando? You must’ve wanted this, huh?” I wink at you and then slide off of the couch and out of your grip. I’m on my knees between your legs, you’re sitting on the couch and I’m on the floor infront of you.my hands grab your pants and swipe them down to your ankles. I grab your hand and put it on the back of my head. “Show me what you want, bro”
I instinctively began to youllyour face to my cock, you had me all flustered and aroused. "C-come on, isn't it obvious?" Not wanting to say it out loud as my cock twitched
My hand gently hold the back of your head, gritting my teeth as you sucked me so good already. "Nn-nnm~ f-fuck." I panted as my cock throbbed in your mouth over and over. "I-i actually haven't been with a girl mmn~ before."
I keep sucking while I hear that and then open my mouth wide. My tongue hangs out and licks the shaft all the way up as I come to say something. “Let me be your first girl then” I whisper. I then turn my head sideways after putting your dick in my mouth again and you can see your cock bulging in my cheek.
"Nn-nn-nn~ f-fucking s-shit." I panted hard, precum oozing on your bulging cheek, I watched you use my cock to make your cheek puff out, licking my shaft. "G-god~ ah~ k-keep going mmn~ like that, and ah~ I'm gonna burst in no time." My face was a bright pink, so ebmrassed how you easily made my cock feel so good. Am I actually gay? Why does he turn me on so much? Why does my cock feel soo good to his touch?! I kept thinking to myself. "Nn-nnmmn~ shit.". I nodded in agreement, wanting you to be my first girl
Now that I have your permission I go all out. My head immediately dives down to the base of your dick, I gag and lick your balls, I then lift my head up and let you see the strings of saliva in my mouth. I go up and down again and again and you can see my shoulders tense up and my butt push out every time I get to the base and gag. After a few goes, I get to the bottom and stay there, I gulp and swallow the tip of your cock down my throat and only stop when I have to cough. “You’ve been leaking precum this whole time, are you sure my mouth is all that you wanted?” I keep eye contact with you while also licking the tip, waiting for your answer
I watched you as you struggled with my cock, moaning with every bob and lick. Watching you push yourself to take my whole legnth made me rock hard, twitching and throbbing a bunch as my cock left your mouth, watching you lick the tip as you spoke to me. I looked to the side, blushing harder still. "B-but... i-nnm~" I looked back at you eith a shy look. "A-am... am I gay?" I asked softly. "I-i want more... does that make me gay?" I asked, gently putting my hand on your cheek, rubbing it with my thumb
“No baby, we said no homo” I climb up onto the couch again and look you in the eyes. “Just treat me how you would treat a girl and it wouldn’t make a difference.” I slide my panties off and throw them onto your face. I climb on top of you and hover above your dick. “You say the word and I’m your girl, baby”
I blushed more. Gently sniffing your panties for a moment before taking them off my face, setting them next to me as I held your hips as you hovered over my cock. "Nn-m.. w-what- what if we were gay... and i-i wanted to fuck you.. as you?" I asked as I kissed you softly.
“I’ll be whatever my best friend wants” I slowly lower myself down. “I’ll take that as a yes then” my asshole touches the tip of your dick and I see your eyes widen. I plop my self down, “oh fuck” I mutter to myself. I take your hand and put it on my little dick. “Hold on babe.” I then start sliding up and down on your cock. My mouth is wide open and my head is all the way back.
My eyes widened, and then shut quickly as your whole ass engufled my cock. I held your cock, jerking you as you rode me, my free hand held the lower part of your back as you rode me, moaning as I kissed all over your chest. "Nn~nnm~ yes, yes~ ahh~ fuck~."
My breathing is heavy and I kiss the top of your head, each time I go up, I go deeper down onto your dick. I wriggle my body around as I feel you teasing my dick. “No one- no one has ever touched it before.” I eventually get balls deep in your dick. “Aha- oh. It’s so big, it’s-it’s in my chest.” I move in a circle motion on your crotch.
"Nn-nnn~ f-fucking j-jesus." I panted more on your chest, whining as it felt so good as you teased me by gyrating on my cock with your hips. My nails gently dug into your back as you did so, bitting my lip as I let out more soft moans. "Nn-nnm~." I kept softly jerking your cock, using my thumb to tease your tip, looking down at your cock moving in circles as your hips moved.
You see my cock twitch and then all of a sudden, my load shoots out. It shoots all over you, on your chest, your arms and a little bit on your face. “Oh my god, I’m -f fuck- so sorry. Let me cleaning that.” I push you cal and you’re now leaving back. I stick my tongue out and lick it off of your tongue. “Better” I start bouncing up and Down again.
I blushed madly, my cock throbbing inside of you as you came on me. Tasting it only for a second before you kissed me, stealing it. I stroked your tip more as moned with you continuing to ride, I nodded. Wiping the extra cum from your cock with my finger, I slowly raise my finger to my mouth, licking the cum off with a shy blush, swallowing it, and kinda liking it.
I blush more when I see this and grab your hand. I put it on my flat chest and tell you to squeeze. “Squeeze it, baby. Feel my bitch boy chest.” You grab and squeeze as much as you can but really it’s just pinching my hard nipples. I love this and you feel my ass loosen when you do.
I leaned in and sucked on your other nipple, as my hand gently pinched and played with your left one, moaning softly as you were still riding me. "Nnmm~ ah~ mmmn~"
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tbartss · 3 years
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Fuck you, Netflix
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1kook · 3 years
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viki & hickeys
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the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)
SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG
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NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks
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Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 
There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 
Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 
“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”
Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”
The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 
You’re not so sure. 
It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 
Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 
“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”
You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”
She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”
At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 
You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 
“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 
Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 
Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 
Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 
So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 
And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”
You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 
Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 
To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 
Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 
On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 
(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)
“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 
Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 
“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”
You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 
There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 
Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  
“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 
He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 
But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 
Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”
You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”
His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 
“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 
Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 
Oh, you loved this man. 
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Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 
He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 
It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 
But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 
One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 
It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 
“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 
As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 
It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 
“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 
The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 
Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 
As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 
A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 
Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 
Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”
You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 
“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 
That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 
Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.
You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 
If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 
“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”
He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”
You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 
Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 
“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 
He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 
“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 
He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 
Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 
“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 
It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 
“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“
“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 
“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 
Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 
You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 
Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 
He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 
Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 
Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 
You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 
Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 
“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 
A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 
You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”
Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 
Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 
It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 
He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 
The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 
“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 
But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”
A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”
It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“
He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”
You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 
Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”
You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 
You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 
Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 
He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 
Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”
“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 
Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 
“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”
The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 
There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 
You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 
Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”
You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”
“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”
The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”
Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 
On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 
Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”
You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 
Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 
“I thought he was cool before.” 
He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 
In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 
You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 
Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 
You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 
He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”
“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 
Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 
You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“
“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 
His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 
It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 
Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 
He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 
Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 
(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 
Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 
(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 
You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”
The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 
But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 
“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 
“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 
Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 
The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 
He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 
“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”
He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 
Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 
It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 
Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 
He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 
Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“
“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 
He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 
“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”
Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 
You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 
Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 
“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”
Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 
“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 
Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”
“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 
At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 
You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 
Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 
Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 
He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”
Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—
Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 
You whimper. “That hurt.” 
“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”
Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 
Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 
Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 
Of course. 
You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 
It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 
And you’re all too ready to act on it. 
Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 
But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 
“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 
Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 
The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 
As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 
Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 
With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 
Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 
“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 
He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 
“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 
“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 
He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 
The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 
It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 
“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 
Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 
His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 
Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.
He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.
Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.
He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 
The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 
Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 
Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 
He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”
The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 
Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 
For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 
He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”
You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 
“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”
A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”
The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—
Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 
He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 
Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”
You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”
It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 
His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 
Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”
And it’s true. 
You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 
You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.
Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”
Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 
Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“
Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.
You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 
He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 
“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”
“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 
It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 
Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 
“I kinda do—“
“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.
His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 
“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”
You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 
“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 
“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 
Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 
“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 
You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.
Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.
You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 
It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 
Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 
You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 
Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 
“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 
“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.
And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”
Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.
What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.
“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 
(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)
Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 
With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 
“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 
“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 
You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”
Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 
Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 
“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 
“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 
You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 
“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”
The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 
Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 
“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”
Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 
“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 
The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”
You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.
“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 
He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 
“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”
You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.
That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 
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epilogue
Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 
He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 
Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 
“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 
“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“
“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 
“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”
The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 
There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 
All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”
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epi-epilogue
The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 
You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 
“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 
“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 
And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 
“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”
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Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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slasherwife · 3 years
Note
S/o pampering the slashers + Vincent , they come home and the s/o prepared a bath and cook them dinner.
Y/n Spoiling Their Slasher
Ooh funn! Sometimes these poor bois need extra love 🥺💞
Thomas:
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- He would be a flustered baby from the beginning🥺
- He would feel bad that you’re doing this stuff for him and would feel a bit awkward since he’s so used to being the provider, that he wouldn’t really know how to act 🌼
- He clings to you for guidance, because being so relaxed and spoiled like this feels like a crime to him. And that breaks my heart.
- You end up being the mother hen, coaxing him and cooing at him as he looks up at you as if you're an angel. He'll lower himself into the bath and hold onto your hand, falling into a pit of pure love for you. You are literally his angel and you are GLOWING in his eyes💕
- when you give him a special dinner, he eats it happily and offers to share almost everything with you. It's like he's mostly concerned with what's on your plate instead of his, glancing over and making sure you're enjoying yourself. He can't help it though, it's completely second nature to him 💫💖
He is still hesitant to let himself be comfortable because he has literally never had anything like this ever in his life. He still looks to you for guidance and you tell him that you won't make him do anything he's not comfortable with.
- You both end the night with him clinging to you, buried his face in your stomach with his arms wrapped around your hips. He repeats in his mind that he doesn't deserve an angel like you until he falls asleep, dreaming about you. This boy is lovesick. 💕
Jason
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- Jason would just full on melt. He already knew how kind and loving you could be, and honestly isn't too surprised that you would do this. He nevertheless of course, puts his masked-face on your temple in the form of a kiss, and strokes your ear as a thank you💗
- Big boy doesn't waste a minute, he's stripped and ready to dive in. He definitely did NOT expect you to come over there and help him wash. Unsurprisingly he got bashful and looked away as you lovingly scratched his shoulders and unknotted his huge biceps and neck. He ends up going slack in the tub from how good it feels. 😊
- His eyes don't leave you most of the time. He looks away bashfully when you glance at him or smile at him, and his heart is just a fluttery mess at you. When you courteously look away when he steps out of the bath, you direct him to a big meal you made <3
- He has no idea where to start he is a trainwreck at just eating a mf meal. You smile encouragingly at him as he delicately uses his fork (which looks like a toothpick in his hands) and eats like he's at the queen's reception ceremony. He is SO polite. Uses a napkin and everything.
- I canon that he was ALWAYS hungry pre-zombie phase, and could literally eat 5 horses in one sitting (a weird visual but--) he signs to you asking what you were going to eat, and will literally fight with you about you taking his plate if you haven't eaten yet. 💖😤
- hes a babe
Michael
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- this bitch. you already know bae.
- He would refuse the bath because he finds it weird that he would bathe in a bath you made him (im confused too dw) He will stand there, his 7 ft tall ass, shaking his head at you no.
- you somehow end up getting in the bath with him because that was the only chance he would take the bath-- with you literally stuck to him as he drags you around like a pool noodle 🥲
- he might initiate funky time but probably not. he just wants to be clean tbh. He spends the entire bath time smelling your hair as he doesn't allow you to move for a good 10 minutes. He strokes your neck though which is nice 💖
- after you guys both leave the bath, he is still carrying you like a purse, but lets you at least put on a towel so you're not sitting naked at the dinner table.
- He's really touchy tonight, and it's mostly because he's filled to the rim with love for you. 💗He expresses it with roughhousing though and handling you like a ragdoll. He does NOT mean to hurt you though and will be gentle if you tell him to cut it out.
- He eats absolutely everything on his plate gratefully, again, doesn't express it in the most civil way, but he appreciates it (surprisingly). He actually might eat from your plate, you can't tell me this 7 ft giant doesn't run on five rotisserie chickens a day.
Bo Sinclair
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- I literally didn't even want to write for this dude. He is an asshole. But he's a hot asshole with daddy vibes so here we are 😤💗
- I would never expect Bo to worship you in return for you doing this for him. There are some things he will boast and tease you about being a swoon for him, being obsessed over him and whatnot~~~ But stuff like this is a little too much for that. It almost touches him. Almost💘
- He initially just doesn't know what to say. He loves you, that’s obvious. So he doesn't want to hurt your feelings by saying the wrong thing (which he does ALL THE TIME) so he's going to be uncharacteristically non hyper-verbal
- When you tell him you have a bath running for him upstairs, he'll think you're joking at first. When it becomes obvious that you're not, you lead him to it, and he looks at you when you're not looking and there's a slight of affection in them🌼
- He offers to share the bath with you, with a glint in his eye and that velvety smooth tone of his. This makes you blush furiously and become shy, which eggs him on. It’s completely up to you though, heh, because this will in fact lead to the sex
- afterwards he may drag you over to the bed to sleep~~~ until you tell him you have dinner waiting for him, and he is a fucking s l u t for food after funky time ✨
- now here he definitely teases you. “you’re practically worshipping me, doll. how am I supposed to treat you now?” What we’re you expecting? but internally he’s bursting at the seams and he’s very touched. 💖Probably to the point where he’s uncomfortable and will either be very quiet (he has no idea what to say) or he’ll tease the shit out of you as a coping mechanism.
- he eats like a normal person unlike everyone else here (and maybe Vincent) going on about his day where you listen patiently with a smile on your face ☺️
- Then when in bed, with his back facing you, he’ll very quietly thank you for doing this for him, because Lord knows he needed it. He’s very thankful 💖
Vincent Sinclair
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- all signs of responsiveness is cut. I mean, he’s the tiniest bit of smug if I’m raw honest. He was the golden child out of the two when he was younger and even if Bo is top dog in Ambrose, the feeling of deserving more than he does is still there. Which he DOES 😭💖
- He’s in absolutely no way like Bo. Bo is a smug ass who doesn’t listen to anyone (who we stan btw), but he’s still touched to the core.💖 You didn’t need to do this, you wanted to
- he knew he was worthy of being loved. He knew Bo wasn’t going to hold him down forever. he’s felt he needed this for the longest time. He wants to beat Bo; ~~~
- and when the prettiest, sweetest angel is at his feet pampering him, he just knows how jealous Bo is. 💘😭 Anyway SORRY I’m rambling~~ I feel like Vinny would be too scared to go into the bath himself and would have you sit on a stool beside him.
- he’ll be signing to you the entire time he’s in the bath~~ about anything and everything. He’s just so emotionally connected to you, he can’t help but spill his thoughts 🥺
- you both would eat your dinner in his room, probably on his bed as you share ideas about sculpting and life Bring a laptop so y’all can watch Netflix together ✨
- he’d want to make love to you after but that depends on how shy he’s feeling. It would probably be gentle and devoid of much lust, only love🥺💓
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sneakybananabox · 2 years
Note
Would it be ok for u to write a fic where Bea gets absolutely drunk (to rid of jealousy because seeing poppy with carter hurts her) at a bar causing her to makeout with another woman where said girl takes her to a private room to get intimate and Bea passes out in the middle of it? And Poppy happens to see this all unfold and…. U can decide what happens next
I got really into this prompt. Thank you for the request.
Warning: Cursing, drinking, SA
I'm sorry
Bea waited for her popcorn to finish and thought about what she would watch on Netflix, ready for her night in. She decided early on that night she just needed a break. Like every college kid, she was being crushed by tests, notes, and more tests. She was ready to watch some shitty show and enjoy some snacks that probably weren’t the best for her health. Not like it mattered much since her body was toned from working on the farm and her fast metabolism.
Staying in felt like a relief, she didn’t want to be around anyone, especially a certain strawberry blonde. It had been a week since their encounter and it took every part of her thoughts. Everything, in the end, led to her thinking about Poppy and she hated it. She wished that night never happened, even though it was the night she knew she had feelings for one Poppy Min-Sinclair. 
“This is going to be a blast.” Sabina jumped excitedly in costume. She fixed her zoot suit hat and suspenders. The black button shirt and white suspenders with the gray striped dress pants gave her the perfect mafia boss vibe. She kept three buttons open to show off her chest tattoos. 
“I guess.” Bea threw on her red puffy vest, she loved back to the future so when she found the Marty Mcfly costume she was ecstatic. She even found the Nike Bruins with the red swoosh. 
“Don’t be a buzzkill, Bea.” Zoey came from her room in her Dorothy costume. Sabina couldn’t help but admire her. She looked at her smooth legs and the way the dress captured her figure. 
“Wow Zoey. You look beautiful.” 
“Sab, better pick up your jaw off the ground before you trip over it. Bea, I know Halloween isn’t exactly your thing. Tonight is about us letting loose though. We deserve a night to relax and forget all our problems. Now my gorgeous roommates let’s go.”
After arriving the trio went straight to the bar. Now with the strength of liquid courage, it was time for dancing. They were enjoying themselves, letting the music drown out everything. Sabina danced with one of the Zetas before disappearing with her newfound dance partner. Bea looked around for Zoey before seeing her talking to someone from one of her classes. An arm pulled Bea out of the crowd and was met with Veronica.
“Hey Hughes, follow me.” Bea was skeptical. Why was one of Poppy’s minions actually talking to her? She let the alcohol make the call and followed the Zeta anyway.  Veronica entered a room upstairs and sat joining the circle on the ground. Bea looked and saw Chloe, Poppy, Carter, Ford, Liam, and Luis. 
“Veronica what the fuck!? Why is Farmsville here?”
“Well, I figured the most attractive people should be here. Zoey and Sab were unfortunately busy or nowhere to be found. Plus Bea is hot as fuck.” Veronica winked at Bea. She couldn’t help but blush at the compliment.
“Whatever. Everyone just sit down. We are playing spin the bottle. The group will rate the kiss and if you get a low score then you do seven minutes in heaven with that person. The queen will go first.” Poppy spun the bottle and it landed on Carter. She pulled Carter by his costumes and they definitely made sure they got a high score.
Bea went next and the bottle landed on Veronica. 
“Well, Veronicats I hope you enjoy the show. 'Veronica sauntered over to Bea and wrapped her arms around her neck. Their lips met, Veronica’s lips tasted like cherries, and Bea did love cherries. She grabbed Vi by her hips and pulled her closer. She wasn’t always this bold, she would have to thank the vodka for that. Veronica nipped Bea’s lip, but her soft lips soothed her immediately. Finally, they pulled back.
“Damn Bea. We should have done that a lot sooner.” Veronica smiled and pecked her lips one more time before going back to her spot.
“Shit that was hot.” Ford cheered on the two girls.
“Whatever, it wasn't that great,” Poppy mumbled. She didn’t know why everyone was impressed with Hughes. She had done nothing but ruined everything from the moment she stepped onto campus. Another feeling was bubbling in her chest. She decided to just push it down.
The time passed and almost everyone had kissed, even the Alphas had kissed each other. The only person Bea hadn’t kissed was Poppy. She was sure Poppy was using any telepathy to keep the bottle from landing on her, she wouldn’t have been surprised with how much she hated Bea. 
Poppy spun and the bottle twirled, the only thing that could be heard was the glass on the floor. The bottle slowed and landed directly on her arch-nemesis. Bea looked up and wasn’t sure what emotion flashed across Poppy’s face. She got up and approached Poppy and offered her hand.
“Looks like you are unlucky tonight Poptart.” Poppy dreaded this moment but knew it would happen eventually. She grabbed Bea's hand and got up, she stumbled a bit and landed in Bea’s arms. “Falling for me already? We haven’t even kissed.” Bea smirked at Poppy.
“Let’s get this over with.” Poppy grabbed Bea’s shirt and pulled her close. Their lips met hard, but soon they found their rhythm. Poppy tasted like strawberry, way better than cherries. As quickly as it started they broke apart. 
“Hm, I don’t know guys. I think Poppy and Hughes got the lowest score of the night.” Liam announced to the group. 
“I agree Liam. Looks like you two have to do the seven minutes.” Luis agreed. 
“You two are out of your mind.” Poppy complained while glaring at the Alphas. Everyone agreed with Ford and Luis. 
They found themselves in a closet. Bea looked at Poppy and admired her devil costume. It made her look devilish and it made Bea want to sin. 
“Keep your eyes to yourself, Farmhand.” Poppy snarled, she would have to think of a way to get back at the Alphas for forcing this situation. 
“Are we just going to stand here staring at each other?”  Bea wanted to change the subject, she couldn’t help staring at Poppy otherwise. 
“If you think I am going to kiss you again then you are out of your mind.” 
“Okay, I am out of here.” Bea began to walk out of the room, but Poppy grabbed her hand. The room suddenly became ten degrees hotter. Poppy pulled Bea closer, she could feel her breath on her neck. 
“I am no quitter Hughes and I don’t want it live-streamed on Veronica’s stupid channel.” Poppy kissed Bea, snuffing out any words that were at the tip of her tongue. This kiss was different, it wasn’t as angry as before. Poppy rested her arms around Bea’s neck and got closer. She could feel the warmth radiate from the Zeta queen. She pulled her close, emitting a moan from Poppy. Her heart felt like it would beat right out of her chest. Her tongue met Poppy’s lips parting her lips. Their kiss was more than lust, Bea could feel it. They heard a timer, reluctant to part from one another. Without saying another word Poppy disappeared out of the room. All Bea could do was look at the spot the woman once stood in front of her. 
Whenever they would encounter each other after that time, Poppy would avoid her. Her words during their sporadic encounters weren’t as angry. It was like the ice queen lost her chill. She missed seeing Poppy as much. She was grateful that Sab and Zoey came to interrupt her thoughts. 
“Hey sis. I know you have a date with popcorn and Netflix, but there is a party at this crazy house. I heard they have the best catering in the city and Lil Nos F is going to be performing.” Sabina hopped on the couch next to Bea, stealing her popcorn.
“No, absolutely not.” Bea snatched her popcorn back away from Sab.
“Bea, please. I am a huge fan of Nos and if I can talk to him maybe it can help with my djing.” Zoey pleaded while batting her eyes at Bea. She knew that her roommate wouldn’t be able to resist the power of her gorgeous brown eyes. 
“Ugh fine. Only because you asked and not for Sab.”
“Hey! I am right here.”
Bea got ready and they all piled into Zoey’s Mercedes-Maybach GLS 600 SUV. They reached the new house at the height of the party. While coming in they greeted their peers as they passed, the trio had taken the campus by storm and were popular amongst the student body. There were waiters with different drinks on platters and different snacks. Bea thought this had to be the fanciest university party she had ever been to, that was saying something considering the school she went to. She grabbed a glittery purple drink from one of the trays to sip on. It tasted fruity but still had the burn going down.
She tried her best to mingle and enjoy herself, she should have snuck some popcorn into the party. She went to the kitchen in hopes of scrounging up her favorite buttery snack. She wasn’t prepared for what she walked in. Sitting on the counter was Poppy making out with Carter. Her head tilted up as he kissed her neck. The whole house could collapse and Bea wouldn’t be able to notice the difference, she had already been crushed. 
Poppy looked at her, but before she could say anything Bea ran out the room. She tried so hard to hold back the tears but failed as they ran down her cheeks. She was mad at herself, of course, Poppy would never be with her. She only saw her as some farmhand. She thought Poppy and Carter had broken up a long time ago. It didn’t matter now, her chance at the ice queen was gone. Bea took another drink, this time a brown liquid, and downed it in seconds. She would do anything not to feel anymore. She needed another drink and quickly.
Four and a half drinks later and the only thing felt was spacey. The music seemed better and everything seemed more vibrant. She was having a blast dancing in the main living room. A girl caught her eye across the makeshift dance floor. She was gorgeous and she couldn’t keep her eyes off Bea. Tonight was a good night to try new things, so with all her courage, she went over to the woman. Walking wasn’t as easy as before, the drinks were doing the walking now, and Bea was just along for the ride.
“Would you care to dance?” Bea offered her hand to the mysterious stranger, only slightly slurring. The woman gave her hand and they went over to the dance floor. They danced closely, their hands roaming each other’s bodies. Bea felt thirsty from the dancing, downing two more drinks to quench her thirst. The stranger and Bea’s lips met messily. Things were getting heated quickly. The woman led Bea to a room upstairs, closing the door. Bea stumbled over to the bed barely able to walk straight. She landed on the bed and could barely keep her eyes open. The girl started kissing Bea and took off her jacket. Bea looked up at the woman and that was the last thing she saw.
Poppy just wanted to get Bea Hughes off her mind tonight. That night back at the costume party meant more than she knew. Poppy had felt something that night in the closet. What would it look like if she ended up with her arch-nemesis? She would lose any credibility she had built for herself. Her pride caused her to take a couple drinks back and almost hook up with Carter at the party tonight. She didn’t think she would run into Bea that night but also wished she would. The look of hurt would be ingrained in Poppy’s brain forever. She left Carter at that moment and just stayed with the Zetas. She watched Bea from afar drinking and enjoying the company of some stranger. The jealous feeling ran through her veins. She had no right to be jealous after the events earlier in the night. She pried her eyes away only to see Bea later stumble barely able to walk going upstairs. Something felt wrong. Poppy went to find Sabina and then get to Bea.
Poppy went to the first door and knocked and heard the girl. She couldn’t hear Bea though. Adrenaline took over Poppy’s thought process, and she was lucky her parents enrolled her in taekwondo. She kicked in the door and saw Bea passed out on the bed. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” The mysterious woman shouted. Poppy wasn’t going to let her get another word out. She rushed and threw a punch at the stranger, landing straight on her cheek. The woman fell to the ground out cold.
"Don't you ever fucking touch her again or I will ruin your fucking life," Poppy growled at the woman on the ground.
Sabina, Zoey and Poppy ran over to Bea. They helped carry her back to Zoey’s SUV and back to the dorm. 
Bea woke up, feeling like she took a brick to the head. She looked around and saw she was back in her room. Sleeping in the chair in her room was Poppy. Maybe she was still drunk or asleep. She looked over and saw aspirin and water next to her bed. She drank the water with the aspirin, knocking over the bottle of pain meds when setting down the water. Poppy jolted awake and blinked sleepily.
“Sorry for waking you Pops.” Bea looked down instead at the blonde in front of her. 
“How are you feeling Bea?” Bea shot her head up making herself dizzy, she had never used her first name before. 
“I feel hungover and stupid. I drank way too much last night.”
“Do you remember anything about last night Bea?”
Bea felt sick as Poppy retold the events from last night and it wasn’t just from the hangover. She was grateful Poppy saw what was happening. She couldn’t help, but feel impressed at the thought of her throwing a punch. Bea looked over and saw Poppy’s lightly bruised knuckles, damn and she hit hard. Shuffling to the kitchen Bea got an ice pack wrapped in a napkin to help Poppy’s knuckles feel better.
“Thanks, Hughes.” A sense of disappointment washed over Bea already missing hearing her first name move past Poppy’s lips.
“I am the one who should be thanking you. You saved me.”
“Be honest with me Hughes. Why did you drink so much?” Bea didn’t know how to answer the question. She didn’t want to burden Poppy with any sense of guilt. 
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit Hughes. We may not always have been friends, but I know you well enough that you just lied.”
“Ok. Ok. I let my emotions get the best of me last night. I was um- jealous and hurt seeing you and Carter.”
“Shit,” Poppy mumbled under her breath, when would she stop hurting people.
“Don’t do that, Pops. I know what it’s like taking on guilt for other peoples’ actions. You carry that shit around with you and it will ruin you from the inside out.”
“I hurt you and you are still trying to console me. You are something else Hughes” They sat in silence for a moment. Seeing Bea in trouble made Poppy realize that she felt something for Bea. It was more than a kiss that night a month ago. It was time she worked on putting her pride aside. “Bea, what you saw in the kitchen with Carter was a mistake. I did it because I was trying to deny what I felt for.. you.” 
Bea wasn’t sure if it was because of last night or all the emotions coursing through her, but she thought she was going to throw up. Poppy was admitting her feelings for her.
“Poppy Min-Sinclair, are you saying you like me? With this much luck I better try the lottery tonight.”
“Don’t ruin it Hughes. If you don’t feel the sa-”
“Poptart I feel the same way.” Poppy thought her heart exploded for a moment. Her smile beamed across her face. “I know a great breakfast place. I swear the omelets could solve any problem.” 
“A date Hughes? Already?”
“I move quick.” Bea got up and offered her hand to Poppy. She was inches away from Poppy’s lips. “Maybe this kiss gets a better rating than last night?
“Don’t ruin it, Bea.” Poppy closed the distance and kissed Bea, her girlfriend. 
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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years
Text
I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)
Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst
Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity
Word Count: 3376 words
Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.
Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity
A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request  at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!
Honey ❤️: Babe
Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you
Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me
Honey ❤️: Baby please
“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.
“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.
“Y-yeah, it was him.”
Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.
“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”
“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”
The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.
“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”
“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.
“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”
You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.
All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.
By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.
“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”
“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”
And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.
As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.
Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?
Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry
Honey ❤️: I love you
--------
Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.
I love you so fucking much
It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.
He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.
It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.
Not after what he did.
--------
He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.
He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?
Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.
When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.
Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.
And that's where it started.
An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.
“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”
Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.
“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.
Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”
“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”
Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”
Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.
“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”
Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”
“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”
Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.
But he doesn’t.
The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?
Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?
Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.
“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”
Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.
Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.
“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.
She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.
“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.
He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.
Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.
Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn’t true.
The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.
“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”
This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.
“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”
Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.
“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.
The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.
But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.
There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.
“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”
Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.
Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.
He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.
--------
Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?
Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.
Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.
They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.
Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?
Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you
Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?
After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel  guilt stir in his gut.
It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.
Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads
“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”
But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.
Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.
He needs to explain himself.
But what will he say?
The phone rings, rings, rings….
Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.
The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.
But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.
So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.
“Were you flirting with that girl?”
Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.
“Yes.”
Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,
“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”
“Yes.”
There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.
You hang up.
---------
You hate the weather outside for two reasons.
One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,
Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.
The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.
Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.
You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.
But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.
You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.
He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.
You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.
“Why did you flirt with her?”
Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.
I don’t know. They whisper.
Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.
That’s not a good enough answer.
“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”
“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”
Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.
“I don’t know if  I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.
Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.
“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.
There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things  while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.
“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”
You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.
When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.
You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.
“I don’t,”  You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”
Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.
“Of course, I get it-”
“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force.  “Without thinking about that night.”
A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.
You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.
But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.
554 notes · View notes
suguruverse · 3 years
Note
hii. if u are comfortable, can u make hcs w atsumu, kuroo and bokuto with a tiktoker s/o! and is really famous bc is funny and pretty!! thanks and btw how are u boo? 🥺🤨
— HAIKYUU BOYS WITH A TIKTOKER S/O
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includes - miya atsumu, kuroo tetsurou and bokuto koutaro
a/n - ahh i absolutely love this request bb! thank you so much and plus you have such immaculate taste in your choice of boys i hope you enjoy this one!! <3
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↳ MIYA ATSUMU
- he accidently came across your videos when it came up on his fyp
- and he lowkey did a double take bc this is his s/o?
- he like rewatches the vid at least 20 times bc you’re so fucking pretty and funny
- he goes on your profile and you’re actually pretty famous??
- and your videos are actually kinda funny?
- like is this the same person who makes dad jokes every chance you get?
- you also look absolutely stunning your your vids i must say
- this man is your biggest fan no matter what <3
- follows you immediately, stalks your page and likes every single post, no matter how lame it is
- even goes through your comments and like which ever ones compliment one and would probably reply to them with something like “IKR ISNT MY BABY SO PRETTY AND FUNNY AND AMAZING<33″
- the moment he notices people thirsting over you, he’s quick to shut them down and run to you to ask you about making tiktoks with him
“BABY, BABY, Y/N MY LOVE, do ya wanna make a tiktok with me? pls?”
“‘tsumu, what are you talking about?”
“i found ya account so lets make videos together please?”
“uhm sure ‘tsumu, but why?”
“so i can let all those boys know that ya mine and no one else”
- you don’t understand where he’s coming from but you still comply with his request anyways
- after that he appears in your videos so often and your followers love how dramatic he is
- no bc if you try those bf tiktok pranks, they always go viral bc with his attitude, it’s hard not to laugh at him
↳ KUROO TETSUROU
- honestly started teasing you when he first found your account
- prank this man pls he deserves it
- but actually he finds it so cute that you make tiktoks
- probably won’t join in but you’ll see him at the back watching you and smiling
- sometimes he even helps you film and takes pictures for you when your fans ask for pictures when you’re out together
- at this point, basically everyone has noticed him in the background of your vids and they always ask who it is
- when you did a bf reveal, everyone was like what??
- someone who’s already so hot has an equally as hot bf? that's literally not fair
- his account is most used to expose the most random things about you
- one time, you were live and he walked in half naked on his phone and was like “hey kitten, do you wanna watch that new movie on netflix”
- lol you panicked a lot, and kicked him out the room 
- him outside ur door: “kitten, what was that for, if you didn’t wanna watch with me, you could have just said that, so aggressive jeez”
- you to your fans: im sorry for that 
the chat:
“HE CALLS YOU KITTEN?!?1?!?”
“yall see his abs? unreal”
“i would gladly watch the movie with him”
- lol you ended the live 
bonus:
- you walk out of your room with a glare on your face
“im sorry kitten, i didn’t know”
“they saw your abs :(”
“that’s what your mad about?”
“they’re my abs”
“yes i know kitten, can we watch the movie now?”
“hmph”
↳ BOKUTO KOUTAROU
- the video he first saw of you was actually a thirst trap
- when it was first on his fyp and realised it was a thirst trap, he immediately scrolled past (as he should)
- but after he scrolled he swore he recognised the person so he went back to look at their face and he saw that it was you!!
- hes honestly so hype bc you’re so pretty! and perfect! and so angelic! and very much his!!
- he comments a minimum of 10 times just basically hyping you up and looks something like this:
“BABY IS THIS YOU”
“YOURE SO PRETTY BABY”
“STEP ON ME UR SO PERFECT”
“WET”
“SO FUCKING HOT AND FOR WHAT”
“STOP LOOKING THIS GOOD BEFORE I KISS YOU”
- you get the point right? anyways
-  hot couple = doing thirst traps together
- and yes every single video yall do together always goes viral
- people just love the dynamic between the two of you
- ur the only one he follows, likes every single of your posts and even has your post notifs on
- has contemplated making a fan account for u
- prank him pls he has the best and funniest reactions
- matching usernames
ur comments:
“where did you get him?”
“is ur bf single?”
“yeah i want what they have”
“someone find me a man who looks at me the same way bokuto looks at y/n”
“the way i would date both of them sheesh”
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473 notes · View notes
delicrieux · 3 years
Note
Prompt 56 and/or 66 for Corpse perhaps? 💕
・:* ☆ author’s note: dont let the title fool u this fic is actually just angst </3 also it takes place before quarantine i dont condone partying during the pandemic lmao. from the prompt list: 56. “You didn’t call. You didn’t text. Nothing.”
masterlist.。・:*:・゚☆
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He’s worried. Hardly a surprise - he’s always worried about something. Anxiety makes him rigid. It’s hard to breathe, and for a second he thinks he has forgotten how to do that in the first place. It’s the swirling crowd, the bright lights, loud music and perfumed, hot air. Makes his head spin. It’s hard to focus. Maybe that’s why he didn’t stay for long. He never meshed well with people - they rejected him somehow, or perhaps it’s his anxiety that told him that they did. He had wandered around that fucking house for two hours, trying to find a quiet corner to just relax, yet to no avail.
One minute here, maybe two, was all it took for him to become inexplicably overwhelmed.
He came because you asked. Friends do things for other friends and he knew you were looking forward to it - it was the only thing you were talking about the past week. Picking out an outfit, fixing your hair, indulging in something stronger than lemonade or sparkling water. You had taken the time to coordinate your clothes with his. Matching color scheme, the two of you had shown up dressed to the nines. People flocked you instantly. You got swept away in the current too quickly for him to realize he was left to fend on his own. 
You found him a few times after that, dragged him to the dance floor. Your hands were pleasant to the touch, gentle and warm. Your smile was a bit sloppy, eyes twinkling, cheeks flustered from the heat and the drinks and the laughter. It made him smile, too. You had asked him where he disappeared to. Repeated the question seven times because he couldn’t hear you over the music. You leaned in in a last ditch effort to find an answer; your breath tickled the shell of his ear. He had no concrete reply to give you. Just here and there.
More searching. The minute handle seemed stuck in place for him. He couldn’t phantom how you could relish in all this noise. He heard remnants of a conversation and your bell-like laughter and found you in the kitchen. People clustered around you. You seemed engaged in a story about some ski-trip gone bad. He felt a pang in his chest, something stuck between desperation and longing, and wanted to join your side instantly and stay there and maybe wrap his arm around your shoulders or-
His mind insisted that he wasn’t pleasant company. What could he offer to a conversation involving five people?
He left to haunt the halls instead. Ten more minutes of torment, perhaps even less than that, and he went home.
His head is still pounding with a headache, even when he lays in bed, staring at his shadowed ceiling. His heart is racing in his chest, oddly reminiscent of the erratic drum of music he had heard at the party. His phone keeps buzzing with an influx of messages. He wills himself to check it.
(NAME) ♡
↪yo the fuck?? ↪ where are u?? ↪ did u go home??? i cant find u anywhere i checked the bathroom twice ↪ sum1 said they saw u leaving wtf??? ↪ you didn’t think to call?? ↪  or text??? ↪ nothing??? ↪ corpse the hell call me NOW
He doesn’t get a chance to text you back, or do anything else for that matter, because his screen flashes with a call and his finger hoovers over the Decline button. He doesn’t go through with it. A moment later your shrill voice fills his ear.
“You alive?!”
Alive? He’s not sure, so he settles with, “Not dead.”
You audibly sigh; he can’t see it, but your hand is resting on your chest, “Thank God. You seriously scared me.” You chuckle nervously, “You’re home, yeah?”
“...Yes. Sorry for freaking you out, I just...wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t want to ruin your fun.”
“...What? Didn’t want to ruin-- you ruin shit by leaving with me with some assholes. You have any idea how many stories I had to listen to today? Horrible, every single on of them. The party was a bust anyway. I’m gonna be at yours in, like, ten minutes.”
“Wait--” He sits up, “You’re...coming over?”
“That’s what I said, yeah. Unless you don’t want me to, but, uhm, I’m already in my Uber, so--”
“No, no, I don’t mind, I just--uhh--I thought you wanted...to...stay and party?”
“I wanted to party with you.” You stress, “I know you don’t exactly like crowds but when you said yes I got really excited and--and well...Yeah that’s it. I just got excited. Next time we can stay in or go to the movies or something.”
“Shit,” He mutters, “I need to clean my room.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it, but next time? Do me a favor and just let me know when you decide to arrivederci. Send a pigeon. Leave graffiti on the walls. Do something, you seriously scared me.”
His smile is back, and he feels as if he hadn’t smiled in years, “Promise. Thanks, (Name).”
“The hell you’re thanking me for? I’m the one that should be thanking you, since I’m inviting myself over.”
“You’re always invited.” He says, a bit breathless, but now for an entirely different reason, “You’re a...” His tongue suddenly feels too big for his mouth. Clearing his throat, he continues, steadily this time, “You’re a great friend.”
Right, friend, friends do things for other friends. You’re just being a good friend, nothing more.
“...Oh. Yeah, you’re a great friend, too.”
So why do you sound so disappointed? It’s a feeling he definitely shares.
“See you in a few.” You mutter before hanging up. 
Fuck, maybe he’s still a bit out of it, because he can’t focus again, his mind persistently trailing back to the word friend. It echoes. For the first time in his life it sounds unpleasant.
No time. He’ll figure it out when you get here. You’ll both figure it out. Or maybe you won’t. That idea halts his movements, makes him reluctant to get out of bed. No time. He doesn’t move. Only when the buzzer indicates your arrival behind his front door does he finally get up.
He feels like he’s still at that stupid party. Confused and anxious and for some reason afraid.
All of that melts promptly when he opens the door and finds you there, smiling at him in the lovely way you do. “...Hi.” You say sweetly, quietly.
His heart thuds in his chest. He dips his head in a wordless greeting and steps aside to let you in.
“I forgot to clean.” He confesses as you take off your shoes.
“Literally don’t care.” You utter, “I was thinking we could watch something on Netflix. Something funny. Or bad. Or funny bad. How does that sound?”
That sounds like not talking. Maybe that’s for the best.
“Yeah, sure.”
.
hope you liked it! xx
.
654 notes · View notes
copias-thrall · 3 years
Note
How would Mary goore react to hurting someone he genuinely cares about? I absolutely Love your writing!💕
Hello, nonny! Thank you, I love this ask!
This was going to be  alist, but it got away from me! 😅 
Enjoy 😘 
It wasn’t anything big.
Just a few of Mary’s favorite beers (the craft kind—not the shitty beer he drank on his shoestring budget), some of that chronic shit you’d scored and have been saving for a special occasion, and a VHS box set of horror movie classics.
***
Mary comes in and out of your life at will, and that was something you accepted—knowing he was As Is or not at all. And honestly—no, really—you liked that. You had your own shit going on, and being Mary’s expected caregiver was NOT something you wanted to add to that list.
(If someone else wanted to try to tame him and pick up after him, well…kudos to them. Less work for you.)
Mary showed up on your pivotal days and he rubbed your feet and always invited you out to trivia. You'd held him when he was coming down from a bad trip and listened to his grievances and gave him a place to stay when he was persona non grata at his own. And in a way, that made you always feel like #1 in Mary’s world…and that was good enough for you.
***
A few months ago, Mary had been lying on your couch, picking the label off his beer bottle.
“I’m gonna be away for a bit,” he’d said.
“Oh?” you’d responded as you’d mashed the controls on your gaming controller.
“Yeah. I mean, I’ll be around…but I got some shit going on.”
You’d paused your game.
“Bad shit?”
He’d waved you off.
“Neg. Just tryna get myself out there. Signed up for open mics and shit.”
He’d shifted, his long legs receding from around you and folding under him.
“So, like…I got my job at the bowling alley…but nights and weekends are kinda shot.”
You’d tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. You supported Mary’s dreams, and that meant not making an issue that he was finally trying to do something about them.
This wasn’t against you. It was for him.
When you’d taken too long to respond, his face had scrunched.
“But if you want—”
“It’s fine, Mare,” you’d said as you’d made yourself smile. “This is important to you, so it’s important to me.”
You’d unpaused your game.
“Just don’t expect me to not beat this game without you.”
He’d grabbed the controller out of your hands with a snarl, causing you to cry out when you died.
“Fuck the game.” His hand had fisted your shirt. “Give me a night to remember.”
You had. Twice.
***
Mary had texted you occasionally over the next few weeks—a few memes, a few drunken key-smashes, a dick pic, and 2 grainy videos of his performances for critique—but such contact was sporadic, and you’d never seen him in real-time. 
He’d blown in one night, five weeks in, with a box of pizza just as you'd been heading out to meet your crew. When you’d told him you’d made plans, he’d looked so crestfallen that you’d caved and canceled on them.
While he’d been there, he’d given you a date in 3 weeks.
“That Saturday I have nowhere to be,” he’d said as he’d chewed. “I can spend the whole day with you.”
You’d been careful not to seem too eager.
“Oh yeah? Should I plan shit?”
He’d crammed the whole crust into his mouth and had given you a doughy grin.
“Why ’’ya think I told you?”
You didn’t know what you’d expected, but when he’d had to bounce 90min later, you were still surprised. (That was hardly enough time to digest!)
“Sorry,” he’d winced. “I gotta be on a bus in 45min.”
He’d left, and you’d been too embarrassed to join your friends who were only just going to the second bar.
Having fun with your man ;) ? one of your friends had texted.
What do you think? You’d texted back before changing into your pjs and turning on Netflix.
***
So maybe you were low-key excited about your day with Mary.
Perhaps you’d spent those 3 weeks figuring out the perfect date—something that said, “I missed you,” without saying “But in a clingy way.”
Beer and horror were two things the both of you were totally into, and you knew he’d be exhausted, so it seemed perfect. You’d bought the boxed set off of eBay and splurged for expedited shipping; you’d borrowed your brother’s old dual TV/VCR from his college days; and you’d forgone your weekly Chinese takeout for the craft beer funds. (And if things got steamy, well…even better.) 
***
A few days before The Date, you’d run into Mary on the bus. You were coming home from a shift, and he was going to his.
He’d brightened and waved you over—as if you weren’t already on your way—and you’d plopped down beside him with a tired grin. You’d told him of the latest entitled asshole, and he’d showed you another clip of him on guitar.
Before your stop had come up, you’d tentatively placed your hand over his.
“We still on for Saturday?”
He’d blinked at you a few moments before grinning.
“Yeah.”
“Should I plan a whole day for us, then?”
His arm had crept around your shoulders before pulling you into him to kiss your temple.
“Yeah, why not.”
***
That morning, you wake up happy. 
Mary will be over soon.
You roll over and grab your phone.
When should I expect you? :-* 
It takes him an hour to respond. You aren’t surprised—Mary isn’t known for being a morning person—so when your phone dings, you grab it up excitedly.
An excitement that dies when you read his text. And reread. And re-reread.
not 2day 
goin upste 2 show 
You blink.
What show? Didn’t we confirm? 
yeah. got me thinkin 
why no show? 
so i chked 
i missed one 
gotta do it 
Rage blooms hot, then cold behind your eyes and down your cheeks.
But you said we had the whole day. I made plans. 
save em 
ths is impt 2 me 
We’ve had this planned for weeks. 
i thot u suprted me 
on a bus cnt tlk 
You send a few more irate texts, but he doesn’t respond, and you toss your phone across the room with a shout of frustration. You scrub the hot tears from your eyes before they can fall.
And…on paper, Mary isn’t wrong. Nothing you had planned won’t keep: movies, beer, takeout.
But…
It gives you a stark look at what you mean to Mary. He gave you this date and confirmed it. He knew you were making plans.
How long was he going to wait to tell you he wasn’t even in the city anymore?
You fight the urge to kick the VHS tapes across the floor, but you open the fridge and grab a beer. If Queen Elizabeth could have beer for breakfast, then it was good enough for you.
Once you’ve downed all eight, you move on to the jug of vodka you keep for cleaning.
When you empty only liquid from your stomach into the toilet, you grab your frozen fries out of the freezer. You roll a handful of the cold ones in your mouth as you wait for the others to crisp in the oven, and once you’ve consumed the cooked ones, you go right back to the vodka.
***
Opening your eyes the next morning is a mistake, so you take a few deep breaths and go back to sleep.
When you wake again, your heart is fluttering, your stomach turns, and it feels like there’s an ice pick behind one eye. Shuffling slowly, you make your way out to your kitchen where you take some painkillers, drink some pickle juice, and eat two slices of plain bread.
The sense that you did something awful stays with you, but you’re in no condition to find your phone and see what you’ve done. Instead, you go back to bed. It takes more deep breathing to settle yourself, but once you do fall asleep, you’re out for hours.
You don’t feel amazing when you swim to consciousness again, but you feel at least like a human being. 
Your phone is dead when you find it under the sink, and waiting the 5 or so minutes for it to charge feels like waiting to face the executioner.
It’s both better and worse than you expected.
You breathe a sigh of relief to see that there are no vague social media posts, and you didn’t drunk dial any of your friends, but…
The texts to and from Mary are ugly.
Apparently, you’d managed not to send him angry texts until he’d sent you another clip of his performing. But then the floodgates had opened.
You’d started with telling him you didn’t give a shit about the show, how he was an inconsiderate ass, and then you'd devolved into incomprehensible, typo-ridden texts that accused him of using you, that you were only something to do when he didn’t have anything better to do, that he was an entitled man-child and if he didn’t apologize, you were done.
Mary’s texts in response range from him being angry at your disregard, to heated retorts you were blowing this out of proportion (and he didn’t appreciate your “ad hominem” attacks), to a cool detachment that this wasn’t working over text and he’d finish this in person.
You put your head in your hands but are too dehydrated to cry.
***
Mary doesn’t text you again during his self-imposed time frame.
You don’t text him either, but that’s more out of self-preservation than pride. There’s no point exacerbating the situation…and you’re pretty sure there’s no coming back from this, so why speed up the inevitable?
The horror tapes taunt you every time you walk by them, and you wonder if you can return them (you can’t). You give the TV back to your brother, and when he asks you how it went, you plaster a smile on your face and say, “Great!” with forced enthusiasm you hope comes across as genuine.
The primo weed goes over to your friend’s house, and the two of you wax poetic all night about existential claptrap as you devour two cheese pizzas and a bag of bbq chips. You talk about Mary without talking about Mary, and you get a heartfelt, “Sorry, dude.”
You beat the video game anyway, but it’s mostly because you needed something to occupy your mind and less out of spite (though that’s there as well).
***
Despite waiting on tenterhooks to hear anything from Mary, you truly don’t really expect to. You know you’d been atrocious, even if it had been prompted by his careless disregard, and you know Mary isn’t really the kind of guy that troubles himself with relationships that are hard.
Not that you’re in a relationship.
So when there’s a knock on your door a week later and Mary’s behind it, you’re genuinely surprised.
You gape through the peephole in shock.
“Fuck. If you’re there, just let me in, ok?”
Fumbling with the chain, you unlock the door and crack it open.
“Mary?”
“You gonna let me in?” he rasps.
You shrug and step away from the door, and he shuffles inside. He looks around like you’ve changed anything (you haven’t), before turning around to face you.
You close the door and stare back.
He folds his arms. “Breaking up with someone over text is tacky.”
What you think is, So you’ve come to do it in person, but what you say is, “Can’t break up if you’re not together.”
He winces and runs his fingers through his hair. 
“Yeah…apparently I’ve ‘taken advantage' of you.”
This…isn’t what you’re expecting.
“I…what?”
“Can we sit down?”
You nod, and Mary sits rigidly on the edge of your couch. You curl up in the chair on the opposite side.
He rubs his palms down his greasy jeans before he speaks.
“I mean…you pissed me off, ok?”
You nod.
“But, like—you weren’t wrong, ok? I kinda knew that deep down, but I’m a dumbass, you know?”
You don’t nod.
“And I kinda bitched about the whole thing…but the resounding response was that I was the asshole.”
He angles his body toward you.
“I guess I’ve kinda been treating you like my best friend that I fuck sometimes.”
Your entire face flushes—you’d always thought you’d maybe ranked a little higher than that—and you duck your head so he can’t see the tears that you blink back.
There’s a swish of fabric, and you startle hard when Mary’s hand is at your chin. He jerks back with a Sorry.
“Shit—that’s not what I…” he blows out a breath and puts his hands behind his head before looking back up at you.
“But you aren’t, and…fuck this is harder than I thought.”
So this is it.
Waiting for him to do the deed is clearly going to be excruciating, so you take charge of this whole shit-show.
“I understand,” you say flatly.
“You do?”
“It’s ok, Mare-Mary. It’s my own fault for reading too much into it. I just…I saw what I wanted to see, I guess. I know you don’t need…” you look down into your lap, “…my shit in your life.
He makes a noise low in his throat, and then he’s squatting in front of you, his hot hands planting on your knees.
“But I want your shit in my life.”
You squint your eyes at him.
“But what I said…”
He grasps your hands in his.
“Pissed me off, yeah…cuz I wasn’t fucking thinking, ok? You’re like one of the only people who gives a crap about what’s important to me. And all I could see was you suddenly…not.”
Anger wells up in you again, and you yank away your hands.
“Weeks, Mary…weeks of you all over the tri-state area, and you thought I didn’t care because of one night?! A night you promised to me?”
He sits back on his heels. “I know…fuck. Ok? At the time, it just felt…like the show couldn’t be rescheduled. Our night could.”
Because you’re what he does when he’s bored.
You curl in on yourself.
“Shit.” He leans forward again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, ok? I’m fucking on my knees here.”
You blink at him. 
What? 
“Please, please don’t break—say we’re done.”
“What?”
“Look, we can go into my shitty fucking psychological profile on why I fuck around later…but right now I need you to know that I knew it was you before I fucking knew it was you.”
You uncurl.
“That…’what’ was me?”
He knees forward and presses your hands to his face.
“The one I wanna spend my free time with. The one whose opinion means the most. The one who was the first person I wanted to share all my good shit with. You’re the one I missed, and—after that awful fucking night—everything felt pointless because I knew I couldn’t come over and jam about it.”
“Mare—what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’m a fucking dumbass. I’m saying I thought I was pissed at you, but I was pissed at myself for fucking it up.” He sighs. “I’m saying no fucking one was on my side and they all told me to get my shit together.”
He looks up at you with wide eyes, and for the first time, you can see how they’re outlined in red, his subtle crow’s feet more pronounced.
“So, you’re not done with me? I’m not…too much trouble?”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Shit, no. I’m asking you to not be done with me. I’ll give you all the nights you want. Fucking text me, and my ass’ll be here posthaste.” He shifts up, and his thumb ghosts over your lips. “Anything to get you to give me that secret smile again.”
“Secret smile?” you ask while trying to perform the action.
Mary actually blushes.
“Uh…yeah. You get this…” he makes a motion across his face, “…when you’re giving it back to me.” His fingers shove back through his hair as he casts his eyes down. “You don’t give it to anyone else.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve made a study of it.”
You’re a swirl of emotions. Mary’s apologized—has admitted he was wrong and has asked for…more—but you’re still hurt. And embarrassed.
But he’s looking up at you with wet, hopeful eyes.
“Do you…” you start carefully, “…do you know why I got so mad?”
That statement was clearly not what he was expecting, and he blinks at you a few times before nodding and looking down at the floor.
“I made a…uh, commitment…to you. And I treated it like it didn’t mean anything.”
He gives you a look like, Did I get it right? and that’s close enough—even if he’s missing some of the nuance.
You nod. “And I know I…wasn’t…the best.”
His face contorts, and your heart sinks.
“You…” he shakes his head. “You said some awful things…some hurtful shit—and it really got in my head.”
Mary gives you a complicated look.
“Shit that you’d been pissed about for a while.” He traces your knee. “Shit you could’ve said to me…but shit I should have noticed. Fuck.” He presses his forehead into your knees, and you can’t stop yourself from sinking your fingers into his hair.
He takes it as encouragement and presses into you before looking up again.
“I just kinda wanna put that whole night behind us. It feels like a fucking ouroboros of fault. And like maybe I created it. But let’s agree to like…not do that again.”
You look down at him, and his eyes search your face.
“Ok…but what does all this mean, Mare? I can’t…I need to be something to you, ok? More than just your friend.”
Mary nods emphatically, and he takes your hand and curls his into it.
“No more fuck-ups, and no one else…can we start there?”
He’s saying all the right words, but you’re still trepidatious—you know Mary, and he doesn’t like constraints.
“I…just…how can I believe you?”
He shakes his head like he can’t believe you even have to ask. He rises and awkwardly reaches out to touch your face before drawing his hand back.
“Cuz you’re important to me. I care about you, and I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”
And yeah. Ok.
64 notes · View notes
keanureevesisbae · 3 years
Text
But professor… - c.8
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Summary: Walter and Penny adapt to Maryland
Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)
Wordcount: 2.1k
Warnings: None
Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //
Tomorrow Walter and I are going to move to Maryland and there is just one more thing I need to do: buy some snacks. My cravings have been all over the place recently, so a trip without snack is asking for trouble. Walter is packing the final things with my mom and dad and in a minute they are going to put everything in the truck and U-haul. Since I’m the only one that knows what I really want, I decided to go on a little grocery store trip.
I’m wearing an oversized sweater on top of my leggings and it’s almost the only piece of clothing that is able to hide the bump. I’m seventeen weeks pregnant now, meaning the bump is harder and harder to hide, however this sweater will do. The chances of me running into someone I actually know is next to zero, but better be safe than sorry.
I walk into the grocery store and grab a basket, slowly filling it with what I want. ‘There she is,’ I hear a voice say, one I haven’t heard in so long and certainly haven’t missed.
Fitzgerald.
Every hair in my neck stands up straight. I simply pull my lips into an awkward smile, before walking off to the register. As I’m scanning the products, he actually follows me and I hate how this guy never understands the message, spoken or unspoken.
‘So, you haven’t been coming to classes,’ he says.
‘I know,’ I say, ‘I quit. Been looking into some other things.’
That is already more than I actually wanted to share with him, but hopefully it’s enough to make him go away.
‘Oh really? What you been looking into?’
Just fuck off, Fitzgerald. ‘First of all moving back home,’ I say, packing everything in my bag. ‘New York never really was the place for me.’ After paying for my snacks, I walk out of the store, only to hear the footsteps of the guy who just won’t leave me alone following behind me.
‘Did you hear that professor Marshall is quitting?’
Yes, I actually helped him writing his resignation letter. ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘I didn’t.’
‘Apparently he got a job offer somewhere else.’
Yep, in Maryland. ‘Good for him,’ I say. ‘Well, I gotta go. Bye, Fitzgerald.’
He wants to say something, but then his eyes widen. ‘Yeah, bye,’ he says. He quickly turns around and is gone by the time I looked over my shoulder at him.
What was that about?
When I look up, I glare at Walter, who is standing on the other side of the road, leaning against a street light, his arms crossed. I walk up to him and without saying a word at first, we get mixed into the crowd. ‘What was that about?’ I ask him.
‘Nothing,’ he says, a little too nonchalant for my liking, ‘just wanted to make sure that you weren’t carrying anything too heavy.’ He pulls the bags from my hands and adds: ‘I hate that snotty kid.’
‘I had everything under control,’ I say, poking his side. ‘Did you see him scooting away?’
‘I wish I had it on video,’ Walter chuckles.
My parents are already in the U-haul they rented to make moving as quickly and easy as possible for us and I hand them some snacks.
‘Oh, honey, I’m so glad you’re moving back,’ mom says, after our final pee. Walter just handed over the key to the realtor of his loft and stands behind me, before he says: ‘I know I am happy to move to Maryland. I quite love the place already.’ He presses a kiss on my temple.
My parents get in the U-haul and I wave to them as they drive off. Walter helps me in the truck and when he sits next to me, he gives me a kiss. ‘I love you,’ he tells me.
‘I love you too, Walter.’ I take off my sweater, before strapping myself in the seatbelt. ‘It’s ridiculously hot in here,’ I say, leaning back against the seat.
‘Twenty bucks you are gonna be cold within half an hour.’
I glare at him. ‘That’s mean.’
‘Ah, princess, don’t pout. You know how that makes me weak.’ I continue to tut my bottom lip out and he chuckles. ‘Let’s just hope the baby doesn’t get your pout, because otherwise I can never say no.’
‘No matter what the baby looks like,’ I say, ‘you’re gonna be unable to say no anyway. You are such a push over with me, this baby will wrap you around their finger in no time.’
‘Ai, exposed.’ He holds my hand in his as he drives off and gives me a kiss on my knuckles.
‘You thought about the co sleeping thing I mentioned to you?’ I ask him.
He sighs. ‘Yes and I’m not sure about it. I mean, we could place a crib in our room, right?’
‘But that’s so sad for the baby. To be alone like that after living inside my stomach for so long. What if they don’t be to be alone? They are not gonna sleep in our bed forever, Walter.’
‘I know,’ he says, ‘but… what if I crush them? I mean, they would be in between us, so… That means no sleep for me.’
I start to laugh. ‘That was your worry? Oh, Walter.’ Since I’m already close to him, I wrap my arms around his neck to give him a kiss on his cheek. ‘Aren’t you absolutely darling?’
I actually spot a faint blush on his cheeks.
I decide not to push it any further, because I feel like this co sleep thing is something that needs to simmer for awhile. ‘Can I ask a question?’ I ask.
He nods. ‘Of course.’
‘What if something goes wrong,’ I start, but he is having none of it.
‘No, no, no, nothing is gonna go wrong.’
‘But what if?’ I say. ‘I mean, something could go wrong during birth.’
He clenches his jaw, not wanting to talk about it obviously. ‘I see,’ he mumbles.
‘What I wanted to say was that if I am unable to answer, that you should decide what happens, okay? I’m one hundred percent sure you are going to choose the right thing for us.’
He smiles. ‘That’s what you wanted to tell me?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Oh, princess, princess, don’t scare me like that, okay?’
I smile. ‘Sorry.’
✎ ✎ ✎
Walter and I bought a house and never in a million years did I expect to have this type of domestic life at only twenty one, however it’s exactly the life I have now and I wouldn’t change it for the world. The move from New York and Maryland went pretty swiftly, especially because my parents helped a lot, since it’s only twenty minutes from my parents’ place.
The place we chose was already pretty great, but Walter and I decided—okay, I decided—that some wallpaper should cheer it up. It was a lot of white and it made me feel like I was at a dentist. There’s lots of pastel going on now, mint green, baby blue, soft pink and some yellow.
However, Walter did all the work, because he doesn’t want me to do anything. Too much work can’t be good for the baby, princess.
He now works at the Maryland Police Department and he is actually enjoying it a lot. He now is on patrol duties, but it will only take a few months before he is back as a detective again.
Weeks have gone by and today marks me being twenty seven weeks pregnant. I won’t lie about it, but I’m very over this pregnancy already. Everything hurts. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my boobs hurts and don’t get me started on my back. I’m mostly sitting on the couch, reading both informative books and novels if I’m not mindlessly watching Netflix shows.
I am a horrendous cook, but I continue to try some things for Walter, because I hate it that he has to both work and cook himself some dinner when he’s off.
Walter comes back from work and smiles when he sees me. ‘There is my beautiful woman,’ he says. ‘Princess, princess, aren’t you gorgeous.’
‘Stop,’ I chuckle, trying to get up from the couch, but fail miserably. ‘I’m sorry, but dinner got burned.’
He smiles. ‘That’s okay, princess. I’ll order some take out, don’t you worry.’
‘I’m really useless,’ I admit. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He scoffs. ‘Don’t say stuff like that. You’re never useless.’ He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. ‘Tell me what did you do today?’
‘I went to that meeting,’ I say, ‘talked about being a first time mom. It’s just that…’ I place my head against his shoulder. ‘I’m scared.’
‘Why is that, princess?’
‘What if I’m a terrible mom?’
‘You’re not gonna be a terrible mom,’ he retorts. ‘The audacity to think you’re gonna be a terrible mom, when I know that you are nothing but sweet, kind, lovely and you will be a wonderful mom.’
‘Really?’ I ask.
‘Really, darling.’ He places his hand on my stomach and says: ‘It’s okay to be scared, however, you have nothing to worry about. Not when I am right here for the two of you.’
✎ ✎ ✎
The next day, while my mom and I are folding some baby clothes, we watch dad and Walter finish the crib. Mom has been sharing embarrassing baby stories about me and to make things even worse, my dad adds a few stories to it, some I didn’t even know.
Thankfully Walter really enjoys them, because he chuckles loudly. It took him awhile, but he is really liking it, having my parents around.
‘You really don’t want to know the gender?’ mom asks me.
‘No,’ I say, ‘I like to be surprised.’
‘Walter,’ my mom sighs, ‘can’t you talk some sense into her?’
‘Sorry, CC,’ he says, ‘but I kinda like the surprise too.’
She scoffs, before she lets out a chuckle. The baby already made the bond between my parents and I a lot tighter and for that I’m forever grateful.
I resit a little and Walter wouldn’t be Walter if he didn’t notice immediately I was slightly uncomfortable. ‘Princess, are you okay?’
‘Yeah, just my back hurts.’
‘How about you go to bed?’ Walter suggests. ‘Rest a little? You’ve been up pretty early on.’ When I don’t stand up immediately, he walks over to me and crouches down in front of me. ‘What’s wrong, princess?’
‘Nothing, just tired and in pain, that’s all.’
He nods, pulls me up and holds my hand tightly in his. I want to apologize to my parents, but my mom simply tells me not to worry. ‘Pregnancy can be rough, darling,’ she says, ‘so please don’t worry.’
I wonder if it’s hard for my mom to see me pregnant, when she couldn’t get pregnant herself. She never said it to me, but still I wonder from time to time. Even if she does have some hard feelings against it, she never shows it, as she is super supportive of the pregnancy. I give her a kiss, just like I give my dad a kiss and mom says: ‘Walter, did you even sleep last night?’
‘No, this one woke me up,’ he says with a smile.
‘You should sleep as well. You had a late shift the day before yesterday and you two should get a lot of sleep when you can. When the baby is here, she’ll keep you up.’
‘We really don’t know the gender, mom,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I don’t know if they are gonna be a he or a she.’
‘Worth a shot, you gotta give me that. Okay, you go rest, we finish up in here and let ourselves out. We love you.’
‘Love you too,’ I say back, before Walter and I walk towards the bedroom. He helps me out of my sweatpants and into the bed. I hug the pregnancy pillow, and the bed dips down a bit when Walter gets underneath the thin blanket behind me. He places his hand on my stomach, before kissing my temple. ‘You comfortable, sweetheart?’
‘I am,’ I whisper. ‘I’m sorry I’m keeping you up.’
‘No, don’t do that.’
It only causes me to sniffle, but Walter knows exactly what to do when I have these slight emotional outbursts. He pulls my back closer against his chest, despite him being very warm, he tugs the blankets over our bodies and warms me up even more, giving me more kisses on the side of my face. ‘It can get pretty rough, princess,’ he says, ‘and that’s okay. Just let it all out, okay?’
‘Why are you so sweet?’ I hiccup.
He chuckles. ‘Well, you’re gonna be the mom of our kid and you’re my girlfriend. Of course I’m gonna be sweet to you. Forever and ever, princess. Forever and ever.’
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ameliasbitvh · 3 years
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ahhhh! thank you all soso much for the 300 followers! i just hit 200 last week?! how are there 300 of you? i honestly don’t know, but i started this account as a place to just read smut and then i decided to post on here. the reason why my first post was angst was because i was being a slut for angst to feel something in those few moments- okay i’ll stop myself right there. for this milestone i’m going to do mutual appreciation for the moots i’ve interacted with the most so far! (if we’re moots and u wanna interact pls do, i’m not scary!)
okayy first up,
@underappreciated-spoon-321
i love you so much bby, i could not believe it when you followed me. i was legit crying happy tears and i specifically remember you followed me after i posted “needy” random lol.
your writing is immaculate, absolutely lovely. ur smut *chefs kisses* i love that you put up with my shit photos that i send you and that you actually ask for more- but it baffled me when you first interacted with me, this was my reaction
*deep breath* “omfg! (ur username) just interacted with me, wtf do i do?!” also ur nick name reminds me of belly from dear, draco.
i’m not writing a lot, bc for your sleepover i wrote you a damn paragraph 😭 but i love u sm belly!! 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
@dracoskinks
ARI! i love talking to you, bc i can talk about anything and when i say anything i mean anything. like kinks, porn, random draco scenarios, etc… you are one of the funniest people i have seen on this app.
ur blunt and funny at the same time, it just makes it more fun to talk to you. ur smut is soso good, bc i don’t find a lot of smut with a dom!reader and sub!draco.
i remember you followed me, so out of curiosity i checked out your blog and saw your piss kink fic and that did it for me. after that i followed you back and we became moots ajnwja. when ur first account got terminated you scared me so fucking much, because i thought you were going to leave tumblr forever. don’t. ever. play. like. that. again. i’m glad we became moots bc i fucking love you <3
@opalsheart
I LOVE YOU SM! i think u were the first moot that i interacted with in direct messages, bc you had tea to spill, and ever since than we’ve been #4lifers. you send me edits and hate on t*m felton with me on instagram. you were the first mutual to know what i looked like lmaoo. u r an absolute goddess, bestie, like what- i know that you can pull anyone you want, so stop playing when you talk about someone.
even though we have a fucking 12 hour time difference, we still find time to talk to each other. it is so fun talking with you and the fact that when we talk it’s night for one of us. you let me send that stupid tik tok of ed sheeran and t*m felton to you and it probably haunts your dreams now ajnwajsj-
i appreciate that you study ur MF ass off for your exams, bc i could never. and you even send me those cute memes when i wake up- also we better be watching those true crime documentaries, bc i’m still waiting. idc if we have a time difference :) anyways ILY SM ELLIE !! <3
@laceycallisto
okay- where do i even get started with this. we first interacted when i reblogged that draco fan fic and we reblogged talking about how desperate we were trying to find that iconic fic. and i forgot that the creator could see all the reblogging we were doing- you texted me directly about adding my name into your tags, which obviously i agreed to. then we just started talking about random shit like how we were superior because we were june geminis. or how we talked about being in love with remus lupin.
i have vivid flash backs of how your remus fic hurt me. i cried my false lashes off proof reading janajaj- bestie- you’ve seen me cry ajnwja- your writing is ethereal, i don’t know how you can see that? your so nice too, like girly u gave me ur netflix within like a day of knowing each other 💀 we watched bridgerton in two mother fucking sittings. we ate that bridgerton hoe up!
all ur input on the scenes were so funny like the “with child” and “dicking” comments 😭 i love how it’s so easy to talk to you about everything, like how dumb i am- even talking about the privilege of being poc and not burning in the sun. bruh u even let me tag u in dumb tik tok videos, like what?! and i think your the only mutual i have that’s in the same time zone as me… also we better binge the next season. but ily sm, ur like my older sister, even if u say ur life is shitty 😭 <3
@dracomalfoys-wh0re
honestly, kacia. i owe a lot to you for my account being “found” or whatever, bc you reblogged a fic of mine, i’m pretty sure it was “common room” and that’s when i started getting notes and followers najajwjwj- you might not know that but i do 💀 i will forever remember that.
you literally were one of the first accounts ever- to follow me. and i won’t lie, i went crazy when u followed me because i love your fics so much! you are so funny and blunt too i swear 😭
and can we talk about your tom riddle fic? like?!the fact that you really showed tom’s true personality and character. every world had me enthralled further into the fic, the way you wrote him is exactly how i think tom riddle would act towards his s/o. his toxicity and gaslighting is too accurate.
moving on from the discussion of your fic, which is amazing, ily sm babe!!
@yoooespinosa
we’ve interacted a few times and when u texted me directly saying that you thought i was sweet, i literally went, “omg- people think i’m sweet” in a good way, not bad jkwajjw- can i just get started on your writing, because oh. my. fucking. god. it is the most captivating and heart breaking thing i’ve ever seen- the emotions that you put into every word completes the entire fic. every angst piece that you have written, made me cry or made something inside me just twist with sadness. it is truly lovely and magnificent.
how do ur fics not get thousands of notes? because everyone should see what you write, it’s unfair that others haven’t seen your fics. when u explained your dream to me, i swear you practically wrote a whole fic 😭
i remember u said that you wanted to do a face reveal, but we’re scared. bestie what are you scared of? you look like an ANGEL!! and if anyone were to disagree, they are obviously blind. but ily bestie <3
@o-rion-sta-r
BESTIE BAE ORION i love you so much!interacting with you is honestly so fun. and i remember like literally yesterday we were trying to figure out ari’s time zone and we were freaking out. you, ari, and me all have a fucking time difference 😭 it sucks so much!
at least every day you ask me how my days been and i think that’s so sweet, because before i got on tumblr people didn’t ask that question. i appreciate that you ask me that and just random questions in general, because i love interacting with you so much. and you should start writing bby! i will reblog anything you write, also ily sm <3
@ilygw
we don’t talk a lot, but you seem like a fun person! i love seeing all the edits you post on here, bc honestly i need more ferret boy content. i know there is a lot, but i feel like i’ve seen all of them. until i see you posting a new edit and i’m like, “okay… i guess i haven’t seen every draco edit” but that’s all i have lol, ly!!
@arcaneslut
to be honest, you seemed so intimidating to me. i know you said you’re not, but to me you seemed really scary even though i knew you weren’t 😭 i just interacted with you recently and you are so sweet i swear! i love all ur fics, especially “and then i felt nothing” because when i read this fic you better believe i was crying so hard- to the point where i couldn’t breath- everything was written so beautifully, i couldn’t believe it.
i love how one thing we share in common is losing our phones 💀 but i just wanted to say thank you for explaining the whole sleepover and celebration things to me! even tho we just started interacting i already love u!!
moots bc i’m in love with all of them: @just-a-smol-spoon @dreamy-clousds @dracoskinks @unedibledaisyduck @thatsassyhufflepuff @a-aexotic @l0vely-lupin @gothboutique @wolfstar4lifee @littlemissnoname13 @deatthfairy @arcaneslut @ladyvesuvia @laceycallisto @dracossweetprincess @the-lonely-poet-loves-to-weep @realityblocked @harmqnia @yoooespinosa @opalsheart @lilscloud @cupids-crystals @mellifluousart @lunas-kisses @malfoysmainb @klauscarolove @crystxlss @beforeoursunsets @marrymetheonott @queeriacs @electriclocean @dlmmdl @o-rion-sta-r @sfdlm @ilygw @desiredmalfoy @underappreciated-spoon-321 @draco-and-tom @hellounicorn @mugglesthesedays @dracomalfoys-wh0re
if i didn’t tag u it’s bc i can’t tag more than 50 blogs :(
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jikseud · 3 years
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[17:26]
pairings: felix x gender neutral reader
wc: 2147
genre: fluff with a bit of angst if u squint hard.
warnings: mentions of cheating (?), y/n being an ass idk what else, pls lmk if there are things to include hehe
a/n: I don’t really write that often soooo...
“I don't get why characters in horror movies are this dumb,” I whispered to Felix as we were watching this horror movie that we randomly found on Netflix. I heard him chuckle softly at my statement.
“That just adds to the thrill and interest, I guess,” he replied. He kissed my temple before pulling me closer to him.
My phone suddenly rang on the first half of the movie. I quickly went to see who it was and my heartbeat immediately picked up its pace after seeing the caller ID being “My love💖”.
Okay, now we're starting...
I am turning into a such a nervous wreck right now. My hands are starting to shake and my heart is starting to beat so loud that I could basically hear it in my ears. I stood up, looking at Felix silently excusing myself. I walked a little towards our room's window -which is not too far from where he is- before picking up the call.
"Hello? Sorry, I'm with him right now. I'll call you later," I ‘said’ quietly to the 'person on the other line' before ‘hanging up’. I looked up at Felix to see his reaction and saw that he's looking at me so seriously I felt my knees buckle. I tried to smile at him but failed nonetheless.
“Who was that?” he asked. I opened my mouth to answer him but nothing came out as my throat went dry. He raised his eyebrows at me. I lowered my head.
Okay, here we go.
"I-," I tried to speak but I just couldn't find the words. I sighed before looking back up at him. "It's no one," I told him, still trying to calm myself. He then rolled his eyes at me.
“If you're going to fucking fool me like this, then do better. I'm not stupid, Y/N. I clearly saw the caller ID,” he replied harshly. “And "I'm with him"? Really Y/n? If you're going to do this to me, give a little respect at least.” he added and my legs shook at his tone.
“Then why'd you still ask if you knew already?” I talked back quietly, too weakly for my own liking. He snickered.
“Because I wanted you to explain yourself at least,” he said and I swallowed hard.
“What's there to explain, though. You've already seen it, it's all that there is,” I told him and he scoffed.
“You could've at least told me where I went wrong... where everything went wrong? Y/n, you can't do this and expect me to not ask you for any explanation, I'm not as stupid as you think I am," he paused a little before continuing, "On what aspect of this fucking relationship was I lacking, huh? Are you getting too bored with me that's why you did this? Am I not enough for you anymore that's why you decided to find another one? Am I not loving you enough for you do this to me huh, Y/n? I thought we were having something special? I thought you said I was and will always be the one for you? What happened, baby? When did everything change? When did things go wrong between us? What did they do to get you sway that easily?” he questioned, his voice shaking from hurt. I sighed, every word was like a stab in my chest. He looked at me, his eyes searching mine for some explanation… any reaction. When they didn't give him anything, he spoke once again.
“When did this start?” he asked. My breath hitched. 
Well now, it’s working. 
It took me a while to answer but I did when I saw that he was getting impatient. “Just today,” I answered, stifling my laugh. He looked at me confusedly and I looked back at him trying to hide my smile.
“What do you mean ‘just today’?” he asked again.
I can't take this anymore...
“It's a prank, you dumbo!” I told him as he sat there, his confusion clouding him even more. I sat back down beside him as I tried to hug him but I was shocked when he moved away from me. “Why?” I asked. He stared at me with such hatred now and I couldn't help but feel nervous once again with the look he's giving me.
“What do you mean ‘Why?’ Y/n?” he asked. “You talk as if I didn't just caught you cheating on me,” he said. I gasped.
“Baby, I told you, it was a prank,” I replied with hurt in my voice. He looked at me, still not trusting my words. “I'm serious, Lix. It's just a prank. Do you not trust me enough? Go on and check if you want. I could never do something like that to you, you know that,” I told him with shaking eyes as I handed him my phone. He gave me daggers while he took my phone in his hand. When he finally held my phone, I felt my hand start to shake a little harder as I retreat it back and I think he noticed it with the way he glared at me.
“If you're being honest then what are you so nervous for?” he asked me skeptically. My eyes shot up at him, looking at him with wide eyes.
“H-huh, who said something about being nervous, h-hah-ah. Pffft I'm not nervous, shut up,” I told him. He glared at me once again before going back to checking my phone. I saw him swipe from left to right, probably looking for something that would prove my innocence.
It took him a few minutes -because he practically opened every single app in it just to be sure- before finally getting to the last page where he saw the widget labeled "To the man I love the most.💖" that I had prepared for him. I looked at his face just to check his reaction and then I saw him looking at it confusedly. He stared at it for a solid five seconds while his thumb was hovering over it.
The widget looked like it was excitedly shaking from my point of view, just waiting to be finally pressed and when the thumb above finally clicked on it, that's when all hell broke loose.
My mind had gone crazy by the time he started reading it. Tons of thoughts clouding my head and spilling continuously out of it like a water inside a broken dam, just like how every feeling I had has been spilling on Felix at the moment...
The widget leads to my notes app wherein a letter is written in a pink background. A color I know he really loves.
“To my baby,
Hello, my love! It's weird talking to you like this because I wasn't really fond of letters and all these sweet things but for you, I'm alright being cheesy and all that. First of all, I'm so sorry if I ever hurt you in the process of this thing... whatever this is... whatever it is that I did before you finally get to read this poorly written letter of mine which contains everything that I wanted to say to you but couldn't because I'm too shy hngg *insert cute face right here*. Anyways, I hope that you finally believe me that what happened before this was all a prank (the proof is literally beside this widget which is the Fake Call app, so don't fuck with me). Felix Lee, aka my sunshine, my happiness, my everything... I wanted to thank you for being the best man ever for me. Thank you for making me happy everyday, for taking care of me and or loving me every single moment that you have. You are seriously the best guy I have ever met (next to Harry Styles, of course... kidding) and I love you for that. I am so thankful that the Gods have given you to me (yes, bitch I own you... lol kidding again... but I'm not sure if this'll still be a joke after this though) and I am so thankful that you decided to stay with me even though I'm just... me. Felix, I don't know what else to say but just know that I love you and every single thing about you. I love how you scrunch your nose up whenever I make an awful joke but still try to laugh just to satisfy me (you're evil btw). I love how you cook for me when I don't wanna just because I'm too lazy (yes chef, go off!!!). I love how your eyes lights up when you're talking about something you love and something that you reaaally love doing (a.k.a ME). I love how your hair looks in the morning and even when you always say that you hate it, you still look so beautiful nonetheless. I love your freckles as well because it feels like I am looking at a sky full of stars and you're the sun wtf does that makes sense though? There are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how so... Anyways, what I'm trying to say here is that, you are so amazing that I don't know how to put your amazingness into words and that I appreciate everything that you are. I love you, Felix and thank you for making me the happiest person in the world. But do you mind making me happier by marrying me?”
By the time he was finished reading my shitass letter, he was shedding tears with a smile on his face. Weird combination, I know. But it is so unfairly unfair how he still looks beautiful looking like this.
He stared up at me with tears still flowing out of his eyes as I slowly took the ring off from my own finger.
“I don't know what else to say to you, to be honest. I am so bad with words and you know that. I love you, though. I could go on telling you this everyday just to show you how much but I'm afraid I'd have to go on forever so will you finally answer my question and marry me? I promise I'd try and learn how to cook so you won't have to anymore… oh and I will try not to complain as much when you leave too much mess in the house,” I tried to joke just to lighten up the mood but I was confused when he started bawling out. I felt my eyes burn from tears as well and I let a few escape from them. "Why are you crying, stupid?" I asked wiping his tears off. He glared at me before pulling me into a hug and crying loudly on my shoulders. “Baby, stop crying, please. I don't know what's happening but I'm going to bawl out as well if you continue,” I told him. He sniffled before pulling away slightly.
"You... you bitch, I hate you so much for doing this to me," he said in between hiccups. "I hate you so much," he told me before bawling and hugging me again. I laugh at his cuteness even though I felt my hands shake once again. His possible answer finally clouding my mind.
I rubbed his back before kissing his neck lightly. "So are you gonna answer my question or what?" I asked him, getting a little impatient now because of nervousness. He pulled away from me.
"I hate you so much. I was supposed to be the one doing this and not you. I hate you," he said despite his eyes showing the exact opposite and still crying them out. "But just because we're here already, I have no choice but to say yes, I guess? Because I'd probably feel so bad if I rejected your goodass offer," He joked. I glared at him. "Kidding. I'd say yes anytime, you know that. I'd say yes a billion... trillion times," he told me and I smiled before putting the ring on his finger. He smiled so wide seeing the piece of jewelry on his finger before taking my face on his hand and kissing me hard.
"I love you so much, y/n," he told me after pulling away. I closed my eyes, feeling the moment. I leaned my face more to his touch.
"I love you more, baby. More than you could even imagine," I replied.
"Your prank is shit by the way," he stated after a while in silence as I hit him on the chest.
“Shut up, I still got you with my acting skills and you don't know how nervous I am while doing that thing when I didn’t have a solid plan,” I told him and he scoffed.
"Sucks for you then," he replied.
"Yeah? Well, sucks for you I'm not sucking you."
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horansqueen · 3 years
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could u make one where y/n is Niall's assistant and they don't like each other but have common friends and they go to a club together with their friends and Niall get's jealous when a guy hits on y/n and she asks him why and he starts kissing her and ends with saying that's why lol
request from @cursedlover !!! FLUFF! with a bit of inappropriate touching at the end but nothing dirty. 2k. hope you enjoy!!
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"You're so annoying, you're so fucking annoying!" I thought as I looked at my boss, squeezing my jaw to make sure the words wouldn't escape my lips.
I knew it was just a difference of personalities and that he wasn't really as annoying as I felt. After all, everyone seemed to love him except me and perhaps that proved I was wrong about him. I could just resign and get a job somewhere else, i knew it, but there was clearly no way I would find a job that paid that well. I was not sure it made out for the clash of personalities Niall and I went through but for money I desperately needed, I could manage to stay a couple more weeks, right?
"Yea, no problem, I'll do it." I replied with a smile, knowing perfectly it was hard for me to hide my irritation.
All my friends said I was like an open book and hiding my feelings was not an easy task but I tried very hard when I was around Niall. I sighed of relief as soon as I stepped foot out of his apartment as if I had been holding my breath the whole time. I started walking to my car just as my phone rang and I groaned of displeasure when I thought it could be him calling to ask me something else.
"Hello?"
"Y/N, you sound grumpy!" I heard my friend on the other line.
"I thought it was Niall." I explained, sitting in front of the wheel and leaning my head against the bench. "He's so annoying, Jay, I don't know how long I'll be able to handle it."
Jay was actually the link between Niall and I. He was the one who found me the job and I was really grateful to him, but I didn't know who Niall was and now I wish I didn't know.
"It's better than minimum wage in a retail store." Jay pointed out, making me raise my nose in a grimace. "Besides, Niall's an amazing guy, you're just being rude because he's exactly like you."
"Is that how you expect me to say yes to the favor you're about to ask?" I wondered, raising my eyebrows even if he couldn't see me.
"How do you-"
"I know you!" I cut him, my voice getting slightly louder. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm actually just calling to invite you tonight. We're going to a bar and you should come, I can hear in your voice that you need it."
I sighed again and closed my eyes, my head still leaned against the bench. "I was actually thinking about watching Netflix in bed."
"Oh come on!"
"No seriously, after spending the day with Niall Horan, I need to relax and clear my head."
---
I don't know how I ended up agreeing to it but when I entered the bar, I immediately regretted it. The music was loud and the lights hurt my eyes. I let my eyes roam around and my lips curled when I noticed Jay , standing up next to a table with a bunch of our friends. I walked up to the quickly, making my way through all the people in the bar, but when I was close enough, Jay moved slightly and my smile fell. Niall was there, laughing his head off, and something twisted in my stomach. It took him a few seconds to notice me since I had stopped moving and when our eyes met, his smile fell. I breathed in and turned quickly on my heels, ready to get out of this place as fast as I could until I felt two hands on my upper arms, holding me gently.
"Hey, you promised, remember?"
I sighed again, closing my eyes as Jay's hand slid down my arms. I had, indeed, promised to be there, and I was mad at myself for that. I turned around and shook my head, looking up in his eyes.
"You didn't mention he would be here."
"Oh come on, Y/N, get to know him okay? I swear he's a cool guy."
I glanced at the table behind my friend and noticed everyone was talking and laughing except Niall. He was staring at me and I licked my lips nervously.
"Okay."
I joined everyone at the table and ended up sitting right in front of my boss. It was not the kind of friday night I expected and I felt constantly checked. It scared me that if I did something that would bother him, he could just fire me for the sake of it, and I hated it. I could feel his eyes on me from time to time, burning the side of my face, and for some odd reason, it made my heart skip a few beats. If he was anyone but my boss, i would ask him what the fuck was his problem, but no one asks their boss that, no matter how much they stare, right?
After a while, I got up and walked to the bar to order a drink and leaned against it until someone did the same next to me, catching my attention. I glanced at them but realized I didn't know him and finally sent him a small and polite smile before grabbing my drink and leaving a bill on the counter. I turned around to go back to my friends but he followed me and I swallowed hard.
"Hey, I'm sorry for being so upfront but, would you want to dance?"
My eyes scanned the dance floor for a few seconds before meeting his again. "I'm not so much of a dancer."
It was sort of a lie, I actually liked to dance but not with someone I didn't know. He was cute and I could probably be interested, but I was too emotionally frustrated at the moment to start anything with anyone, even if only something that would last one night.
"Can I buy you a drink then?" he asked again as we stood next to my table.
"I mean..." My hand gripped the glass in my hand and I pressed my lips together. "I'll let you know when I finish this one?"
His lips curled and he nodded, pointing the table a bit further with his chin. "I'll be sitting there with friends, whenever you feel like it."
I nodded and sent him a small smile and he winked at me, turning his head back to look at me on his way to his own friends. I chuckled and tilted my head, remaining motionless for a few seconds and after a while, I sat back next to Jay.
"You're not gonna let that arsehole shag you, right?"
My heart jumped in my chest when I recognized Niall's voice and when our eyes met, I noticed he was frowning. I could have sworn he was angry and it surprised me more than I thought.
"I don't see how it's any of your business." I quickly replied, feeling suddenly slightly guilty for the way I was talking to my boss. After a few seconds, though, the guilt disappeared. Just because Niall was my boss didn't mean he could tell me who In can and can not have sex with. I was off at the moment and I was allowed to do anything I wanted. "You don't have a say in who I shag."
His lips parted and his eyebrows raised. Clearly, he was not used in the way I was talking to him and he scoffed low. It didn't seem rude though, just slightly surprised. He didn't expect me to be rough with him but I could swear I had seen a small smile on his lips for half a second.
"Please, don't tell me he's the kind of guy that turns you on."
"What if he is?" I asked daringly, raising my chin up. "What would you do about it?"
I glanced at his hands as he gripped his beer more and my lips parted. Was he mad? Pissed? Annoyed? I shook my head a bit, telling myself I shouldn't even care about what Niall Horan thought anyway, and got up again, taking quickly the direction of the bathroom.
"Wait, Y/N!"
I looked behind me and frowned when I noticed Niall following me and finally rolled my eyes, turning around in the deserted hall before crossing my arms on my chest.
"What?"
"I just don't think... I don't think this guy likes you for the good reasons."
"Look, Niall, I'm not expecting to date anyone I meet here. Sometimes, people just want to fuck, and it's okay too." I explained a bit condescendingly. "Why do you even care who I fuck?"
I held my breath when he suddenly bent down, crashing his mouth against mine. I thought I'd be tempted to push him away but the way his lips pressed on mine made me feel dizzy. He took a step closer and my back hit the wall gently as his lips parted mine. He tasted amazing and I couldn't help but let out a low whimper. He swallowed it, kissing me deeper and my hands found the front of his shirt, gripping it tight. When he broke the kiss, he brushed his lips gently on mine and a shiver crossed my back as my eyes fluttered open.
"That's why."
"Mm, no." I let out in a whisper, shaking my head lightly. "No, you get on my nerves, and I know I get on yours, too."
"You get on my nerves because I can't stop thinking about you." he admitted in a murmur. "That's so fucking annoying. I just can't fire you, and at the same time, I can't handle myself when you're near. So I try to be rude to you. I hoped it would make me like you less."
"And how's that working for you?"
This time, his lips curled and he chuckled, making me smile too. "Clearly not good." he confessed, moving his face away as his eyes roamed on mine. "I never thought I'd have feelings for my assistant. I guess it's useless to try and deny it, now."
I tilted my head, suddenly endeared by the man that annoyed me the most only a few minutes before. "Then embrace it."
Slowly, he moved closer and leaned his forehead against mine. "Okay."
My eyes fluttered close again when he got near me and I moved my chin up until my mouth reached his again. I never thought my heart could beat that hard inside my chest, so hard that it was threatening to jump out. His hands slid from my shoulders to my arms and when he gripped my waist, I held my breath.
"I really want you." he whispered, pressing his body against mine.
I had to swallow hard when I felt him push his half-hard cock against my thigh and let out a low "Fuck." under my breath.
"I just don't want to go too fast." he whispered as I felt one of his hand move up on my stomach and brush against one of my breasts. "I want to do this right. I want to bring you on a date, get to the who you really are, and take my time to fall so deeply in love with you that I can never fall out of it."
"You're doing very good."
He smiled more and chuckled, kissing my lips gently. "Do you want to try?"
I couldn't believe what was happening and at the same time, it was not really surprising that all this annoyance towards each other was hiding something else. It was so obvious now that I had liked him since day one and just didn't want to admit it to myself.
"Yes."
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