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#like ‘omfg no don’t mention that don’t send that’ but then they can go out of their way & find it/be given it by industry/their people
httpsserene · 7 months
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𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 “𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤”𝐞𝐝 - 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏
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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar’s girlfriend is feral on main. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: crack. this is a shitpost, you have been warned. uh this is completely unrealistic, it’s pure vibes okay. this is not an accurate representation of those mentioned. 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smau.
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: i wouldn’t consider myself an oscar girlie but then,,, i opened tumblr and saw the photos of oscar from when he went karting and um…now have another op 81 mess of a smau! this is completely unserious and it’s inspired by the nefarious actions i would do to oscar’s biceps. inspired by @dwarvenchords and @hookhausenschips ‘s reblog lol. it’s short but, enjoy, loves xxx.
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insp. 1 | insp. 2 | taglist | feedback & requests | table of contents ↻
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instagram
yninstagram • february 28th
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oscarpiastri: love…you couldn’t even save this for the close friends stories? you had to post it on main yninstagram: did you like my joke? oscar “jack”ed piastri LOL im so clever oscarpiastri: ijbol 😐 yninstagram: i’d be pressed but ur muscles are distracting me oscarpiastri: u should cmere and give them a kiss :)
lilymhe: he let u tie a bow around his bicep?!!! omfg i have to do this with alex yninstagram: i don’t think alex has enough muscles to meet the requirement for the bow :/
landonorris: he’s such a simp landonorris: i would never let my girlfriend tie a bow on me 🥱 yninstagram: step 1: have a girlfriend
logansargeant: your freak out on twitter had a slight mentally-ill aura yninstagram: shut the fuck up and get on a podium before you talk to me yninstagram: gangly bitch + not funny didn’t laugh + L
instagram
yninstagram • february 28th • in between my boyfriends tiddies ⚑
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liked by, oscarpiastri, mclaren, logansargeant, markwebber, and 1,223,458 others
yninstagram: things to do with your boyfriends muscles; listed in the comments below (a huge thanks to the toto user on twt for FINALLY sending me the photo)
tagged oscarpiastri
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yninstagram 1. tie a bow around them (completed)
➥ user thx for sharing the photo
➥ user FUCK! I CAN’T FIND A PIECE OF PAPER TO WRITE THIS ON
yninstagram 2. kiss them (completed)
➥ user awh how cute! going to nap on the interstate rq
➥ user wait for me!
➥ user omg slumberpartyyyyy
yninstagram 3. touch them (completed)
➥ markwebber there’s a time i thought you were a normal girl
➥ yninstagram who told you to think that??
user i know those arms are rock solid 🥴🤤
user i’m the toto user on twitter !!! she did not kill me y’all !!!
➥ user u were flirting with death babes
➥ user i would not have admitted to this under her post
➥ user you should seek witness protection 🙏🏾
yninstagram 4. have him suffocate you with them (he said no)
➥ oscarpiastri WHY DID YOU INCLUDE THIS ONE
➥ logansargeant i think you’re proving the mentally-ill part y/n
➥ yninstagram u sound jealous logan
➥ user personally, i think if you didn’t want her to say that, you shouldn’t have muscles @/oscarpiastri
➥ oscarpiastri oh! yeah! why didn’t i think of that—lemme just take them off rq 😐 WTH
yninstagram 5. wall sex (?)
➥ oscarpiastri i specifically said not to say #4 and #5 in public
➥ user the question mark is SENDING MEEEEE
➥ yninstagram i mean, i can tell you that he didn’t say no to this one 😈 @/user
➥ landonorris i did not want to see this when i opened ig
➥ yninstagram do us all a favor then and delete ur account x
➥ oscarpiastri what she said^
➥ landonorris :o -> :(
yninstagram 6. draw on them (in progress)
➥ user wait this one is actually cute 🤭
➥ oscarpiastri watching the pure concentration on her face is adorable
➥ user omg she’s so 👉🏼👈🏼 coded
➥ oscarpiastri it tickles lol
➥ yninstagram ur moving around too much
➥ yninstagram might have to tie you to the headboard 😏
➥ user and she’s back on her bs
yninstagram 7. watch him flex for you (ongoing indefinitely)
➥ mclaren do we have your permission to post oscar thirst traps now?
➥ yninstagram i’m sure we could work out something mutually beneficial
oscarpiastri • february 28th • my girl’s basement ⚑
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liked by yninstagram, danielricciardo, logansargeant, landonorris, and 1,478,539 others
oscarpiastri she knocked out on my chest halfway through drawing on me. didn’t know this was part of the boyfriend job description, felt like there was some false adverting. overall: 12/10 experience, will be doing this again.
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danielricciardo didn’t know where this was going for a sec but fuck you guys are so cute 🥹
➥ oscarpiastri thank you? i guess
➥ user oh to have my relationship praised by danny ric
➥ user girl ur man responds to your texts two days late
➥ user DAMN u didn’t have to air out my business like thatttt
user WHAT DID SHE USE TO DRAW ON YOU OSCAR??? HELP A GIRL OUT
➥ oscarpiastri its liquid eyeliner 🫡
➥ oscarpiastri she used an eyeshadow palette when she wanted to add colors
➥ user why did i never think of that, she’s so smarttttt
user oscar piastri the MAN that u AREEEE
logansargeant so,,,,are we still getting dinner later orrrrr
➥ user LOL
➥ user omg y/n was right logan IS jealous
➥ logansargeant im not jealous !!!!
➥ user 💀
➥ user okayyyy….we believe you LMAOOOOO
➥ oscarpiastri ijbol 😂
➥ logansargeant stop using ijbol it’s not funny
➥ user this will be the only time that i say i agree with logan on something
➥ logansargeant ur literally a fan account FOR ME?? @/user
➥ user yeah man u didn’t have to bring that up 😒
taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff
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© httpsserene2023
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shinylights · 1 year
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So since celebs keep creeping into our lane & breaking the fourth wall, we can start talking to them about the stuff they keep mentioning/etc that we were always told to never bring up, right?……
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diremoone · 1 year
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“make me (yours).” | r. sukuna
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w — [ minors do not interact ] modern! AU, hints of sugar daddy vibes ;), older man/younger woman, age gap, everyone is above 20+ and legal age, male masturbation, Sukuna imagining seggs positions and shit like that, Sukuna is around 36 & Reader is around 22/23, tbh sukuna being a comfort character rn. jjk after 235? it’s non-canon lmao
a/n: this is the most I’ve ever written that’s sinful I’m not used to this (it’s been so damn long since i have written anything remotely sinful omfg) and it’s not even that much I’m so embarrassed y’all HELP— also part two depends on you guys and any ideas you want to send in through my ask box :3
part one | part two
[ first divider by @/benkeibear, the second by @/cafekitsune ]
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♥️ Rich! Sukuna who meets you through his younger brother, who’s a few years older than you. You’ve been in Japan for a few years now, that much he knows, attending the same school his little brother got into. And now he’s determined to find out everything about you.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna who’s so fucking glad you can speak Japanese. He knows English, yes, but he prefers it when you speak his native tongue, because he fucking loves your accent and gets off on it. It’s exotic — you’re exotic — and he can’t help the temptation of wanting you and more.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna who knows to keep his smug smirk into himself when his little brother finally mans up and finally introduces you to him one day when he comes home to work on a project that you’re helping him with. And he knows that Yuuji knows about the look on his face. Because he knows his history with women. Yuuji knows he’s made a mistake introducing you to each other.
Or so he thinks.
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Sukuna is thoroughly amused by you, although there are times where he becomes frustrated. You’re not an easy case to crack, and not easy to tease and rile up. Perhaps that’s the part of you that’s from accelerated maturity.
You’re smarter than the average person, even the people slightly above average. You’re intellectually and psychologically challenging and he very much likes it. It’s been a long time since he’s had the kind of stimulation you’ve brought him. Since his and Yuuji’s father passed away.
He watches from a distance as you and his brother go over notes and work and crack jokes that put a pretty smile on your face. He can’t hear your laughter from where he stands, but he’s positive it’s as lovely as your smile.
As for you, you know you’re being watched. You look to the tall man out of your peripheral vision and halt rolling your eyes.
“Your brother is never subtle, is he?”
Yuuji sighs heavily. “Never.”
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♥️ Rich! Sukuna who hates the fact he can’t see you more often. So he digs and digs and then finds out about some old family debts and a couple things for medical expenses he can easily pay off to hold over your head, to use as a means to be something akin to a sugar daddy so he can order you around and see you whenever he wants to.
And it comes as no surprise to him when he mentions it the next time his brother brings you over for schoolwork that you’re startled by him finding out. He only mentions it after Yuuji has fallen asleep on the couch. You give him the wide-eyed expression of shock, probably wondering how he found out about it.
But unlike his expectations, you don’t ask how he knows. you don’t get embarrassed and try to hush it away with the option of using yourself as his favor. You shrug, going a little more into depth and detail about the financial struggle that’s been kept under wraps for several good years.
Sukuna himself is surprised in return, by both you and the way he sits down for you — to listen to you.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna, who finds out that even though you see him as super attractive, you’re not as swayed by his flirting and all of his advances like many women and young women your age are. Yes, you know he’s super fucking stupidly hot, and yes you’ve more than likely thought about certain things while in bed under the sheets, but you’ve got more important things to prioritize than hot men. Which he applauds you for just as much as he despises it. It makes him frustrated, because he’s attracted to you and wants you in his bed so bad; because it should be so fucking easy like it has been with other women. But you’re not the same, and while his lust is as prominent as ever in his older age, he also has the desire for something more than just a fling.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna who manages to get ahold of your schedule through his baby brother (who’s prepping for your broken heart) and asks you out, setting up a date for when he knows you’re free. He much enjoys the look on your face when he brings up the date he’s set, knowing you’re wondering about how he managed to nail the exact day you’re free for the day he’s set for the outing. He enjoys it even further when you quickly deduce how he knows about it.
Goddamn, he loves a sharp woman.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna, who orders you a dress to be made that’s a mix of beautiful deep crimson and black, one that shines but doesn’t shine too much to glare at people eyes. He drums his fingers against his desk in his home office as he sees the notification pop up on his phone that the item has been delivered.
But as usual, you surprise him. You don’t end up wearing the dress he’s made, but something completely different. You arrive to the restaurant he’s bought out for the night in a deep silver-gray tux, hair styled in a simple manner with minimal makeup that he knows you don’t need because he’s already seen and fallen for your natural looks anyway.
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Sukuna hates you. He doesn’t, but he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with the feelings he has. You’re so much younger than him, but holy fuck has it been so long since he’s been given any sort of challenge or stimuli, especially from a woman. He both hates and is glad you’re not easy. And it only fuels his drive to get you to give yourself to him.
You drive him up a damn wall.
He’s been in the shower for at least forty minutes, alternating between hot and cold every five minutes. Forty minutes and the painful hard on he’s had all morning still hasn’t gone away.
Sukuna leans his head forward against the wall and cusses at himself. His hand isn’t enough, but there’s some relief as he starts leisurely pumping his shaft. He cusses and swears worse than a sailor as he starts off slow, imagination running wild (at what could be).
He wants you so fucking bad. He wants you on your knees in front of him; on the soft carpet because no way is he going to let his pretty woman have sore knees while taking his monstrous dick down her throat.
He wants to bury his face between your legs and make you cum so much and so hard you see fucking galaxies, then let you catch your breath just barely enough before he uses your juices as lubricant and permanently molds your pussy to the shape of his fat cock.
He wants your legs over his shoulders as you throw your head back and moan as he fucks your better than anyone ever has and ever will. He wants to see a white ring around his cock as he pumps himself in and out of you like he’s a starved man. And that he is. For you, anyway.
Sukuna just knows your pussy is so fucking warm. He’ll bet his dick that you’ll have the tightest pussy he’s ever going to have. The best he’s ever going to have.
His hand pumps his shaft faster and faster, gripping it harder as he nears climax. His massive cock aches painfully, desperate to cum. Fucking hell… He wants you so bad, underneath him, or on your knees, calling him by whatever pet name or name from whatever kink you might have.
Forbid everything if you call him ‘Daddy’ or ‘Master’. Game fucking over.
He doesn’t even care if you have those kinds kinks or not. He just wants the pretty girl that’s done more than caught his attention under him as he makes her feel pleasure that only he can provide.
But the selfish part of him can’t help but hear you call out those names in his head. And that’s what does it.
Sukuna’s thighs and back muscles flex almost painfully as his balls draw up and cums. He tosses his head back, the feeling of his load spurting from the tip making him groan in pleasure. He cums so hard he feels like he’s about to keel over.
“Fuck yeah…” he pants, oxygen finally catching up to his lungs’ need.
But now he’s disappointed and just a little pissed off. Because the cum on the wall shouldn’t be there. It should be on or in you. And he doesn’t like that.
And as he rewashes himself, his jaw clenches, can’t help but thinking determinedly he’s going to change things between the two of you.
Come hell or high fucking water.
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♥️ Rich! Sukuna who’s finally shifted the relationship to being something else. Although you can’t tell what it is. The first date he takes you on is to break the ice, getting to know you better as a person. It’s also to see if you’d fuck him, but he knows you’ve got stronger convictions than the women he’s used to.
He takes you on a second date, this time in more casual clothes on a drive to a house he’s set up to have dinner and stargaze at.
He gets to tell you he’s paid off your family’s old debts now, relieved them of the medical bills and taxes that haven’t been paid yet. But it backfires, and now he’s left to make you understand that it wasn’t to make you feel beholden to him in any manner, like owing debt to the mafia.
♥️ Rich! Sukuna needs you to understand that despite how much he wants to fuck you, it’s more than just because he finds you attractive and wants to satisfy his dick. He wants you to know you’re not temporary; he doesn’t see you as a quick fix to his primal needs.
Not at all.
You’re the long term fix to his primal needs. And perhaps the only one he’s going to need ever again. And once the expression of understanding crosses your face, he goes to cradle the back of your head and hungrily slots his lips on yours. He may not get to take all your clothes off right now, but he’s happy with his results tonight.
Besides, he knows he’ll get you into his bed with a shiny diamond ring on your left hand eventually.
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wheeeew im gonna go take a cold bath
@vagabond-umlaut here’s ur man babe pls enjoy.
& everyone pls feel free to send in more ideas for this series if you want im having fun with this lmao
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kamiversee · 6 months
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KAMI I’M FUCKING DEAD. MY FACE IS ON FUCKING FIRE BC I GOT THE NOTIF WHILE I’M AT WORK 😭 i read it during company time regardless 🤭
Ino being working at the café makes so much sense, holy shit. i can’t believe i glazed over that possibility. OH MY GODDDDD!!!! the poor guy, he’s so sweet ): i hope we have another chapter or oneshot with him. he’s too fucking cute oh my goddddd
i fucking knew it was going to be a battle between an obsessive vs. possessive guy i fucking called it!!! as a Choso girly, i was all for it in the previous chapter but holy shit that interaction was way more brazen than i expected (i kinda like it? ahjfjkfjedjjd). but my poor boy Ino omg 💔 i think i’m starting to get the Gojo delulu bc for a second there i thought the possessiveness was kinda hot 😭 Kamo Choso i will wear rose colored glasses around you every day if i need to.
i want Yuki so fucking bad 😭😭😭 SHE’S SO FIIIIIIIIINE!!!! forget Choso, i want HER. i’m so glad she turned out to be more of a girl’s-girl than we expected. the fact that Yuki and Choso broke up bc Yuki turned out to be so gay is SENDING me for some reason 🥴 it’s so good for her character and it sets up so much potential for the reader to explore more aspects of herself
this chapter is reawakening things in me. please kami, i need a oneshot where the reader and Yuki have sex while Choso’s tied up and forced to watch omfg PLEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAASE
i’m so relieved that it’s Suguru that walked in out of anyone. these past few chapters have been stressing me the fuck outtttt and for some reason i trust that Suguru wouldn’t be quick to let things slip (too much). he really feels the safest out of the people in the list for the reader to see now that the list is done. he’s so aware of his surroundings and is good enough with social cues that i feel like he’ll see the reader and Choso together and put two and two together. but he definitely wouldn’t make it easy at all. it’s too in-character of him to throw out a comment or two to fluster the reader enough and i seriously can’t wait to see Choso’s reaction to it 👀
i feel like the worst people for the reader to meet again would be Sukuna (for obvious reasons) and Gojo. Toji can’t afford to say anything, Naoya can be brushed off as a bad one-night-stand-rebound, and i feel Nanami would be reserved should they run into each other again. honestly, i think Nanami would be tied with Suguru in terms of who would be the safest person to run into at this point.
i’m already getting heart palpitations at the thought of Gojo and Choso seeing each other face to face. they’re both so jaded to violence when it comes to the reader that it’s almost scary to think about. i know you said there wouldn’t be a character death (thank goodness) but holy shit do i kinda wanna see a fight between them LMFAOOOO IT’S SO MESSYYYYY
omg the thought of Choso and Sukuna meeting face to face gives me so much anxiety for similar reasons. he’s being mentioned so fucking much lately, i’m so scared 😭
also i feel so fucking bad for the reader 🥹 even though she’s physically done with the list, it just ended up having more blackmail pile up against her. i don’t think Suguru would go out of his way to blackmail her, mostly because we already know he has no reason to and he thinks this whole thing is fucked up since the start. but Suguru is just a subtle reminder of the guilt and trauma (regardless of the fun) that came with this journey. it’s so twisted, the list will always hang over her head and she’ll never be free unless the entire truth comes out 😭😭 KAMI YOU MAKE MY HEART ACHE.
KAMI YOU KNOW I DON’T LIKE TO RUSH OR PRESSURE YOU BUT I NEED THESE NEXT CHAPTERS EXPEDITIOUSLY. MY MIND IS FUCKIN SPINNING AT THE POSSIBILITIES. I’M LOSING ITTTTTT!!! 100% i’ll be back later to ramble more once i have more time to dissect this chapter after work 🥲
- ☃️
One of my best anons as usual LETS BREAK THIS DOWN BY PARAGRAPH NOW👹
1. DURING COMPANY TIME IS WILD FR😭
2. Not sure abt another chapter with him outside of subtle appearances maybe BUT there will be a lil oneshot for him in this au!
3. Obsessed vs Possessive will literally just boil down to what people prefer tbh😭 so hey, its ok to be delulu!!
4. And I NEED YUKI SO BAD NGL😩 Reader might js run away with her fr
5. Hehehehehe yuki & choso oneshot with choso watching UGHDHSUSBJ ADDED TO MY NOTES IMMEDIATELY !!
6.🌚 No comments on whether Sugu walking in is good or bad !!
7. Though I will say yes, the worst person to show up wouldve been Sukuna fasho😭
8. A FIGHT WOULD BE CRAZY BUT SHOULD THEY CROSS PATHS WHO KNOWS WHAT WOULD GO DOWN🌚
9. Heh… no comment on this bit either ^.^
10. Yep! I’m glad its noticeable that the list still has an effect on her no matter what she does 😹
11. NEXT CHAPTER TMR POSSIBLY?!🗣️
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howdoyousleep3 · 2 years
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Hi K<3
it’s the meal-eating tinder girl? i guess you could call me that? lmao it’s been a while!!
lots have happened since i sent that ask saying that meal making tinder guy had ended things
(he reached out after like three weeks saying how he still wanted to eat breakfast with my family, yet said «uhm…we haven’t spoken in like three weeks, what do you think??🤣» when i DARED to ask if he thought we should start talking again considering HE contacted ME🙂🙂)
((aaand i don’t think i’ve mentioned this before but we do go to the same school and this man could not look me in my eyes but would send me a snap about something entirely dumb like complaining about his yoghurt every time i walked past him))
anyway, that’s not what i’m here to complain about
i’m really sorry for venting to you but none of my friends get me on this😭
but i fucking miss getting my nipples sucked:( i have TEARED UP on several occasions just thinking about it!!! and idk what to do w myself!!!!!!
i’ve tried getting back on tinder but i just cant get over how attracted to him i was😩😩 objectively he’s not that hot and NONE of my friends agree with me on this (except one, who just refers to him as «butt», cause he has a glorious one)
but like he was just so BIG and BUFF and BURLY and his fucking neck tattoo made me WEAK IN THE KNEES and i sometimes just get these flashes of him whimpering in my ear when he came and i cannot fucking deal.
i need to get a grip, this is the same man who ate three whole boiled eggs with nothing else for breakfast. just the eggs. put them in a bowl and asked if i would like to sit outside with him. so i did. sat there on the lawn while he ate three whole boiled eggs right next to me. then drove me to work and the smell followed me all day. i can still feel it sometimes.
ANYWHO thank you for giving me some of your time. do feel free to ignore this
i hope you gave a lovely rest of your day, whatever time it is when you read this❤️
🤭😂 There is so much in this Ask and it made me laugh so hard in some parts omfg. Babe! I'm so happy to hear from you, my goodness.
First of alllllll, ugh I don't like this man! He wants to eat breakfast with your family and send you snaps but won't make eye contact with you and tries to make you feel dumb for wanting to make it work again?? EWW.
UGH, babe I'm so so so sorry. 😩 As a nipple sucking enthusiast I seriously feel for you.
He had a good ass, he had neck tattoos, he was BIG and BUFF and BURLY and whimpered in your ear when he came...but we keep those as fantasies and spank bank material because we deserve better in our real relationship.
not the eggs this is so fucking funny i just started laughing and kept laughing fuck
I'm sorry it took me a while to respond to this and I hope you're feeling happy and healthy! Lub you lots. 💕
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zumicho · 1 month
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IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE LONG ASKS BC I DO TOO!!! LIKE AS A YAPPER I HAVE THINGS TO SAY AND I WILL SAY THEM 🔫🔫🔫 ANYWAYS!!!! LAST ASK OF THE DAY BEFORE I FINISH EATING AND RAWDOG TWO CHAPTERS OF CHEM NOTES AND THEN MORE I HOPE
ONE THING I NOTICED IS THAT IM ALWAYS EATINF WHILE SENDINF ASKS TO PEOPLE?? LIKE IM SENDING AN ASK TO NESS AND IM EATING LUNCH OR BREAKFAST OR SOMETHINF AND EVEN NOW!! IM EATING LUNCH🫢🫢🫢
anyways just remembered i have school on saturday i think i shall Cry BUT CONTINUING
about the movies!! at heart ive always been a marvel baby <- one of the reasons why i didnt branch out of anything really but i love love love marvel sm!! or i love the older movies.. new ones just dont hit the same
like last month i saw your ask title (underoos) and so i watched the clip from civil war and almost SOBBED the nostalgia omfg WHATS UR FAVOURITE MARVEL MOVIE btw!! mine is the winter soldier <333 or age of ultron or the original avengers OR RAGNAROK OR THE GUARDIANS I LOVE THE GUARDIANS SM ALL THEIR MOVIES R 10/10 ALWAYS as u can see i was like hardcore a fan <3 irs so embarrassing like i have marvel tshirts and a (broken) mjolnir keychain and a bunch of original comics and a thor funko and a loki badge pin thing (but i lost?? it?? i think????) AND I READ LIKE AT LEAST 500 COMIC ISSUES OVER 2020-2022 AND THE SHOWS WERE ALSO<3333 like me and my sister would watch them together ,, good times..
I WENT OFF ON SUCH A TANGENT WHAT THE HECK!!!! I WAS GOING TO SAY recently i watched american psycho and it was like,, cool i enjoyed it except for the smex and also my english teacher talking about health and giving us unnecessary unasked for therapy(?( bc i was actually watching it in (online) english class. ALSO I STARTED WTACHING MEAN GIRKS TODAY BC ONLINE CLASS AGAIN BUT THEN THE ENGLISH TEACHER GOT WEIRD SO I HAD TO LOCK IN TO SAVE THE CLASS (i succeeded)
MY BIRTHDAY IS MARCH 16TH IT'S PRETTY CLOSE TO URS AND MAYBE IM WEIRD FOR THIS BUT WHENEVER SOMEONE TELLS ME THEIR BDAY I (INVOLUNTARILY) CALCULATE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THEM IN A YEAR AND I MUST SAY ITS A VERY SATISFYING TIME DIFFERENCE (IM WEIRD!!!! I KNOW!!!!! math kid moment) ANYWAYS I SHOULD STOP USING ALL CAPS LIKE THIS and go study BYE <33
best of luck with chem and school !! more under the cut again lmao
the eating while sending asks is ipad kid behavior but don’t get me wrong that’s not an insult I’m right there with u .. call it multitasking or something I guess? ??
I’m gonna put the movie recs last because I will geek tf out and forget about everything else ,, MCU AAAAA YES I GREW UP ON THOSE MOVIES THEY HAVE MY HEART !!!! IM ALWAYS DOWN FOR A MARVEL RAMBLE ANY DAY ANY TIME !!! age of ultron is my fav avg film but my hyperfixation on spidey in general has me attached to nwh <3 ITS THE CAMEOS FOR ME + THE CINEMA EXPERIENCE WAS CRAZY 😭 andrew and tobey trigger nostalgia like nothing else .. underoos was a nod to my favorite dynamic in the mcu (peter & tony) <3333 i love how i said I’d talk movies last but I’m already typing all this out like a maniac ,, anyway
hemsworth was my first celebrity crush so i get the thor love 100%, tho i hated love and thunder with a passion ‼️ that movie — HARD flop. ragnarok was great
I can’t not mention wandavision the graphics were insane and there was so much wasted potential for it to just end like that :// I was so frustrated ugh .. I haven’t seen daredevil (though I want to), and shehulk looks terrible. got bored of tfatws
LOKI OH MY GOD LOKI WAS INCREDIBLE HELLO THE PLOT ?? I’m a sucker for plot twists and unpredictability cause I have good intuition (sounds like a positive, but not when you’re watching something) LOKI WAS SO GOOD THOUGH. this is where my movie recs start :)
if you liked loki, please please watch everywhere everything all at once.
if you liked mean girls, watch 10 things I hate about you, the breakfast club (<3), clueless, how to lose a guy in 10 days, pretty woman
for american psycho, watch the social network, fight club, x + pearl + maxxxine, kill bill, maybe .. pulp fiction? <- check the content warnings for each of these though !!!
my general recs are the grand budapest hotel, goodfellas, little women (2019), moonstruck, challengers, and juno !!
oh and this is incredibly random ,, I think you’d maybe like whiplash (2014) if you haven’t seen it — just based off of vibe
the best ones are bolded in red !! i know these are a lot sorry 😭😭😭😭😭 this is my happy topic and if u don’t give me the specific mood ur in I go crazy
AND MARCH 16 !!! GOT IT !!! <3 all my love
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percontaion-points · 3 months
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5 Survive chapters 19 & 20
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Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions
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Click here for the rest of the series!
Chapter 19
“Why the fuck didn’t he take the shot?” he barked. 
I love how he’s getting angry at the other victims about the sniper not cooperating with him. Every single page makes me yearn for him to be the one who doesn’t survive more and more. 
“Well, we already have that closet door.” Oliver gestured back to his shield. “That could be the body, if we put one of my hoodies over it.” 
“The mop!” Simon said, louder than he needed to. “We snap it in half and those could be arms, inside the sleeves.” 
Oliver nodded, considering it. 
“Oh,” Maddy interjected. “I have a beach ball in my suitcase. Not blown up yet, but that could be the head, right?” 
“That could work,” Oliver said. 
No, it couldn’t, what were they all talking about? Even on her worst day, Red didn’t look like a closet door with stick mop-arms and a giant beach ball head. The shooter would never believe it was one of them; he had a telescopic sight mounted to his rifle. But she didn’t say anything. How could she say anything? That was part of the plan. Red looked over at Arthur and Reyna. They were silent, like her. 
What exactly do you do in a situation like this when your self-appointed leader has an IQ of negative 50?
“That’s brilliant,” she said.
Chapter 19 summary: Oliver gets angry at the others that the sniper didn’t take a shot at them. Mr. Sniper gets on the radio and he’s like “You already have my attention, you know.”
This leads Oliver to the idea that they need to make a dummy to send out the door, so that the sniper will take a shot at them. However, what they come up with is… Well. You saw the description of what they were planning. Only Maddy and Simon are on board with this plan; Arthur, Red, and Reyna are silent, but it’s obvious that they think that it’s fucking dumb. 
Maddy and Red are sent into the bedroom to find a hoodie. But once in there, they see the mirror, and come up with a better plan. 
Chapter 20
“But we’re in an RV. I was going to have to say it one time. Think I’d rather be cooking meth, though. Less risky.”
I can’t even pretend to be surprised that there was a Breaking Bad reference. 
Simon darted forward, scooping up the broken mop from the floor, holding up Larry’s arms.
OMFG, STOP CALLING IT “LARRY’S ARMS”. JFC. 
 Including that fucking pattern in that fucking curtain.
It’s been almost two chapters without mentioning the curtains!! I almost forgot about them!! /sarcasm
“Well, it can’t be Maddy or me,” Oliver said, gaze moving across them all. “We’re the ones he’s holding hostage. He won’t take a shot at either of us.”
Shut the fuck up. You don’t even fucking know that. You jumped to some random-ass conclusion, and are making yourself way more important than you actually are. 
“We’re the ones he’s holding hostage. He won’t take a shot at either of us.” 
Arthur cleared his throat. “The sniper never actually said that.” 
“No, but he wouldn’t, would he?”
You know it’s bad when everybody else thinks that you’re full of shit. 
“Is everyone ready?”
Chapter 20 summary: Maddy goes back out and tells everybody else about the mirror idea. Oliver heaps praise on Maddy, which makes Red angry, seeing as how it was all her idea. However, Arthur seems to have overhead the girls in the bedroom, and tells Red that she’s smart. 
They come up with a fairly clever system in order to swivel the mirror to a second person, using pieces of the now-broken mop handle and some beer cans. However, the narration spends so much time on this. Like you know that regardless of what happens following this, it’s not going to work. They’ll still be stuck in the RV for another 5 hours. (I am once again screaming about how the chapter sections have spoiled the story for us. Ugh.) 
However, the longer that this goes on, the more it seems like every single person is getting so fed up with Oliver, with how self-important that he’s acting, the way that he’s decided that he’s in charge, literally every single thing that comes out from his mouth… Which GOOD. Call him out. 
Arthur and Simon end up being the ones who are going to be reflected in the mirror, while the others get into position to hopefully record the sniper taking a shot at them. 
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maiteo · 4 months
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After I sent that ask idk why I even mentioned the atp cus let’s be fr when have they ever intervened for the good of the sport/player. If they had a backbone or any integrity the rat wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a tennis court again but he’s still allowed to play despite ongoing investigations 😵‍💫 praying for god to strike him down, once and for all.
I’ve not seen the full draw but im certain we’ll get an iga aryna final and idk how to feel about that 😭 iga has enough clay titles let aryna take this one plsss
I’ve not seen or heard anything from Daniil so far which is interesting bc we all know him and clay don’t get along but wishing him well <3
Also the sinner hype is getting kinda nauseating, I used to really like him but idk kinda sick of him getting forced down our throats. I think I liked him more when he was a loser
I’m holding onto the hope that musetti has already beaten novax once so he can do it again. Waiting for the day this fkin pest retire.
I’m sad about monfils tho he’s so fun I don’t went him to stop any time soon he’s one of the last of the players that I grew up watching as a kid :(
real & true omfg joke of an organization.. ik wta is a big ass mess too but the audacity to compare the two when this is how they operate…just embarrassing and it’s clearly not changing any time soon
i feel like that’s what it’s coming to tho😭 unless someone takes aryna out, gonna be another final between them ahsjsk
and im co-signing that heavy!! I have my reasons for my sinner dislike…but the obsession with him esp on here…it’s too muchhhh😩 and it’s not warranted!! I need ppl to be serious and get out of his ass…do they remember what the sun looks like…meu deus!!
I’m not gonna go on a spiel on the current state of tennis stans….estou calma🧘🏽‍♀️ I’ll send musetti my love…he beat that demon before he can do it again<3
same about monfils😭 so many of the players I enjoyed growing up are slowing leaving the game it’s very melancholic…I wish him the best & I’ll def miss watching him…so much personality that the current roster can’t make up for
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1kook · 4 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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ptergwen · 3 years
Note
if ur requests arent open rn pls ignore this im so sorry but i saw ur post earlier asking ppl to send in angst prompts so i was wondering if u could do the prompt "A is dying and calls B to say goodbye. B doesn’t answer, so A has to leave them a voicemail saying the last things they want to say." w peter parker? have a great day <33
by the time you hear this
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warnings: angst, swearing, and mentions of blood and death
a/n: hiiii thank u lovely ! you literally chose the saddest one omfg buckle up
-
peter winces, his gloved hand practically digging into his ribs to keep pressure on them. his chest is so tight that he can barely breathe. he limps through a dark alley and to the dumpster he changes behind before patrol. his body growing weaker, he collapses on the gravel underneath him.
he’s just been stabbed. this isn’t the first time, but it might be the last.
he was supposed to be home for the night already. you two had plans to order takeout and study, sneak in a couple makeout sessions if peter played his cards right. he’d even been on his way to your place when duty once again called.
the security alarm for a convenience store nearby was triggered. peter felt like he should go check it out, so he swung over and did so. he knew he made the right choice because upon his arrival, the store was being robbed.
nothing he couldn’t handle, or so he thought.
a man had broken into the cash register and was in the process of stealing what was inside.
peter tried to reason with him at first, convince him to hand the money over. that didn’t go as expected. peter’s presence only angered him. the more he pressed, the less patient the man became.
he didn’t realize that the man was armed. if he did, his fate might not have been determined in a dimly lit seven-eleven. his weapon of choice was a pocketknife that could do more damage than it’s given credit for.
it happened so fast. peter was caught completely off guard, no tingling senses or fast reflexes put to use.
without warning, peter’s assailant whipped out the knife. peter attempted to block him with punches and ducks, but to no avail. the man wasn’t backing down. he finally jabbed the knife into peter. one, two, three times. it ended up stuck between his ribs.
the man then fled the store, grabbing the money and leaving peter to fall to his knees.
using every remaining bit of his super strength, peter heaved himself up. he’d hobbled out the door clutching his chest, the pocketknife still plunged in him. quiet whimpers escaped him as he fought back tears and tried to navigate the streets of queens.
he was headed to retrieve his backpack, where he keeps a first aid kit for emergencies like this. you’d convinced him to carry one on him at all times.
you’ll normally help peter patch himself up after patrols. you make sure to account for any cuts and bruises with a bandage and kiss to each. peter assures you that you don’t have to. he’s a big boy, in his own words.
you do it because you want to, though. he’s beyond grateful for your tender, loving care.
but, you can’t be there for every battle he faces. that’s where the kit comes in.
“karen?” peter summons his artificial intelligence. he props himself up against the wall, hissing when the knife twists inside him. “karen, please. don’t leave me hanging. are… are you there?” she answers promptly. “hello, peter. how can i be of service?”
he exhales, ragged and shallow. “someone hurt me, karen. someone hurt me really bad.” a sharp pain strikes him and elicits a yelp. “i see. it appears that you‘ve been stabbed,” karen observes. “you’re losing a lot of blood.”
no kidding. peter would laugh if he could manage it.
“yeah, i gathered that,” he quips back. “what, um… what should i do, karen?” there’s a beat before karen responds. “your injuries are very serious, peter. without medical attention, they could be lethal,” she slowly informs him.
lethal? he’s dying?
“would you like me to call emergency services? there’s a hospital located approximately two miles away,” karen suggests. that would risk compromising his identity. “no! no, no. i have a first aid kit,” peter quickly shuts her down, reaching for his torn up backpack. “let me just… i’ll get it out, and you tell me what to do.”
“ok, peter. whenever you’re ready.”
peter literally rips through the fabric of his backpack to look inside. he finds notebooks, candy wrappers, everything except the kit. just his luck.
beads of sweat are beginning to form on his forehead. his mind feels foggy, eyelids heavy. he removes his mask momentarily for fresh air while he continues to search.
after some more digging around, peter pulls out the first aid kit.
“got it!” he rejoices and tugs his mask over his head to let karen know. “karen, i have the kit. what now?” she springs back to life. “great, peter. first, you’ll have to disinfect your wounds. there should be rubbing alcohol inside.” peter nods, ignoring the bile that rises in his throat. “on it.”
his shaking fingers move to undo the clasp on the first aid kit. when it opens up, peter’s stomach drops.
it’s empty.
he’d used the last of his supplies a few weeks ago. you’ve been reminding him to restock it ever since. peter promised you he would, but he never did. he forgot.
“oh my god,” peter chokes out, desperately bringing both hands to push against his ribs. “this can’t be happening. this… this can’t-“
karen cuts in. “is everything alright, peter?” she wonders. sweat dripping down his face, he shakes his head back and forth. “no… nothing is.” she sympathetically replies. “what can i do?”
the bottom half of peter’s suit is drenched in blood. his murder weapon is still buried inside him, twitching every so often. he’s lightheaded, dark spots clouding his vision, skin clammy and pale. a wave of nausea washes over him and almost renders him speechless.
peter always knew spider-man would be the death of him. he just didn’t think he’d lose his life so soon.
“i want you to make a call, karen,” he rasps out. “to 911?” she assumes. peter swallows his bile, blinking away more tears. “no, to y/n.” karen hesitates to dial your number. “are you sure you don’t want me to call-“
peter’s eyes water over, the tears spilling down his cheeks. “n- no, don’t! call y/n. i need… i need y/n, right now,” he begs. karen follows his orders. “now calling y/n,” she announces.
your number ringing offers peter some relief. he’ll be listening to your sweet voice soon enough, calming him and his racing thoughts. you’re truly his rock.
but, you don’t answer the phone. you’re preoccupied, getting ready for yours and peter’s study date.
“i’m sorry, peter. y/n is unavailable,” karen tells him softly, although her words sting. peter sniffles, his whole body aching. “call… call her again. don’t stop until she picks up.”
karen obliges. she dials your number one, two, three more times and is sent to voicemail for each. peter’s faith is dwindling.
“perhaps we should try y/n again later. is there anyone else you’d like to call in the meantime?” karen questions, peter hugging his knees for comfort.
he’s not sure there’s going to be a later.
he could call aunt may, ned, happy. god, the list seems infinite. there are so many people counting on him, and he’s about to let them down now more than ever before.
peter only wants to talk to you. you’ll get it. you accept him for his flaws and mistakes, love every piece to the intricate puzzle that makes up your boy. he owes it to you to explain what happened, and what comes next. you should hear it from him first.
“uh, no. it’s okay. just, um, just call y/n… again,” peter requests. “i’ll leave a message.”
there’s a lump in peter’s throat as the dial tone sounds in his ears. his chest is burning, mask tasting salty from the mix of tears and sweat. he yanks on the end of the pocketknife, successfully removing it from his chest at last. that only causes him to bleed more and sob harder.
“hey, it’s y/n. i’ll call you back as soon as i can. bye!” your prerecorded voicemail answers. peter waits for the beep to start speaking, chewing on his quivering bottom lip.
“hi, y/n/n. it’s peter. sorry i’m running late for our date,” he manages to say without breaking down. “i’m, uh, i’m actually not gonna be able to make it.” there’s a pause. “i got hurt, y/n. it’s… it’s not good. don’t go into panic mode yet, though.”
peter smiles sadly to himself. he can imagine your overprotectiveness kicking in.
“don’t come looking for me, either. you stay your stubborn little self at home, okay?” his voice cracks, silent tears overflowing. “by the time you hear this, it’ll be too late. i… i’m bleeding out.”
almost on cue, peter has to force his eyes from rolling back.
“anyway, that’s not why i called. don’t wanna bore you with the dramatics,” he chuckles, which quickly turns into a dry cough. peter clears his throat before he continues. “i wanted to… to say goodbye. a proper goodbye.”
he leans his head back against the brick wall behind him, gazing up at the night sky. “wish i could do it in person, hold you one last time… fuck, i wish i didn’t have to do it at all.”
peter screws his eyes shut.
“i know you’re probably mad at me, but that’s okay. i understand,” he calmly reassures. “it’s my fault. i should’ve asked for help when i had the chance. you always told me that, and… you were right.”
the line goes silent for a moment while peter catches his breath, practically wheezing.
“i’m sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry i’m doing this to you. i’d stay if i could,” he promises. “it… it just hurts too much.”
his hands drop to his sides. after all the hits it’s taken over the years, his body is giving up.
“i love you… nothing’s ever gonna change that. keep going for me, baby,” peter softly says his final words to you. “karen… end call.”
it comforts peter, making sure you have closure. he’s ready to let go now. he’s moving on so you can do the same.
he always knew spider-man would be the death of him.
“incoming call from y/n,” karen reports, to which she doesn’t earn a response.
it’s too late.
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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years
Note
THE FUCKIN YANDERE GODS OMFG AWOOGA YOU DID SUCH A GOOD JOB THE FIC IS GOOD AS HELL!!!!
Is there any chance youd write a part 2 in the future? Its absolutely cool if you dont want to but WOW this concept? Solid gold (no pun intended)
I honestly love how people reacted to this story. It was so fun to write and became my most popular story to date. I'm such a sucker for the gods and mortals forbidden romance trope is just chefs kiss. Also, puns are always intended. Hand em over.
This chapter doesn't really involve the reader much, it's kinda more of a filler but I want this story to become a series, which means shorter chapters to separate the story. This is just simply a lore filler chapter.
TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered
Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please.
Mortal of Gold (Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza) Part 2
It was quiet, for once, but there was a soft wind blowing through the curtain-covered doorway that prevented most light from seeping through. Two figures stood in the other corner of the room, staring into the bronze bowl filled with liquid, watching the destruction they caused spread across the village of L'Manberg with darkened eyes narrowed into glares.
"They deserved it..." Philza murmured, likely to Chat who was resting on his striped hat, giving the odd little squawk or chirp every so often. He gave a sigh and popped a piece of bread he tore off into his mouth, giving a small piece to his whining bird afterwards.
"I don't think the mortals have ever seen you lash out at them in person... Usually, you just send your crows to destroy their crops when they annoy you." Techno chuckled softly as he stole a piece of bread from Philza which caused him to give an annoyed scoff and bat his hand away, "But-"
"YOU SUMMONED 10 WITHERS?" A voice boomed through the palace, causing Phil and Techno to sigh and back away from the dish displaying their destruction proudly, "AND KIDNAPPED A MORTAL?"
The blond rubbed his face and Techno took off his glasses while they both walked out the door. Walking down the polished quartz stairs, the two gods quickly came into eye contact with the source of the voice, as well as a few other visitors.
"You're just mad because we tried to kill your high priest, XD, don't pretend like you follow the rules either." Technoblade sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before putting his glasses back on, "And the mortal is none of your concern. We just did something about it, unlike you fawning from a distance over your mushroom boy."
Despite the cracked mask covering the god's face, everyone around him knew he was irked from Techno's statement. The three other gods behind him snickered into their hands until DreamXD snapped his head in their direction, the thin golden ring halos around his head gained a red glow to them.
The two brunets behind him immediately snapped their mouths shut, but the blond kept snickering away to himself, causing him to get smacked upside the head by one of XD's floating hands before he turned and stormed out the door.
"Ow! Bloody dickhead!" The blond groaned and rubbed the side of his head. The God of Mischief and Determination, Tommyinnit, scowled in the direction of the maniacal god before turning back to his father and Techno, "Ay Dad. Didn't take you for the destructive type! I hear you pulled a Techno and wiped out a village with Withers!"
"Yeah! The explosions shook the entire Upperlands!" Tubbo, the God of Bees and Chess, cheered a bit as his bee buzzed around him, getting specs of pollen in his fluffy hair and decorating his small horns.
Chuckling to himself, the God of Music and Insanity looked behind him at the sandy ground covered in a faint black fog, "XD was throwin' a tantrum. It was honestly the funniest thing to watch," Wilbur adjusted with the guitar on his back, "So where's the little mortal you kidnapped?"
"They're under a sleeping spell at the moment while the amnesia spell sets in," Phil gave each of his sons a brief hug as a greeting, "Then we'll have to alter their memory so they don't panic, but they'll have to stay up here permanently, their mind could be shattered if they do return to the mortal world."
"Shattered?" Tommy repeated, reeling back slightly as Wilbur summoned a leather book in his hand, opening it and scanning through the words, "That sounds like a pretty violent backlash..."
Phil and Techno avoided Wilbur's suspicious glare as subtly as possible, pretending not to see it, "Well... Remember, they're a mortal. Plus the strain of their home being destroyed, getting robbed, then getting kidnapped by gods and being brought to the Upperlands... Who wouldn't go absolutely mental? Then if they see the remains of their old village, it could undo all the magic that was placed upon them."
"Makes sense to me!" Tubbo chirped, his small goat ears wiggling as he held Chat in his hands, "Can we at least see them now and visit them when they wake up?"
Techno tensed up a bit but realized quickly that two of the three of the gods visiting them were too young to consider dating, and the third one was married to a human that he was trying to turn into a merling. "I... Suppose so. Just don't be too loud or the spell will break."
Tommy rolled his eyes dramatically, but the feathers behind his ears ruffled slightly to give away his excitement. Although, he was much better at hiding it than Chat, Tubbo's bee TC (Twitch Chat if you're wondering), and Tubbo, despite the fact that Chat actively visited (Y/n). Wilbur didn't seem to care much, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Or that was his insanity kicking in.
The avian nodded and began leading his biological and adopted sons through Techno's palace, Chat chirping away in his mind. 'Gods, that bird doesn't shut up...' Phil rolled his eyes up to the sky for a moment before smiling a bit to himself, 'Better than everything being dead silent I suppose...'
"In here. Now shut up. The spell won't work twice in a row." Techno hissed quietly before moving aside the crimson satin curtains to allow his old friend's sons into his rarely touched bedroom. The quartz room was kept dark via similarly coloured curtains blocking the majority of the light from coming into the room, while still allowing enough so they could see. A canopy bed stood proudly in the center of the room with golden posts and pure white chiffon silk curtains swaying lightly with the blowing winds.
Phil and Techno couldn't help but smile softly to themselves at the thought of seeing you again, even if you were asleep and, at the moment, void of memories and personality. Techno led the way inside and gently hooked his fingers around the fabric and moved it aside to let the younger gods see the mortal they had saved from the cruelties of the Earth.
The three gods carefully took their time studying you, trying to find what had their father and the anarchist totally entranced. Their eyes carefully took the time to study your soft (h/l) (h/c) hair, your beautiful (s/t) skin, and your silk robes that were ombre from red to white, accented with the very golden accessories that the high priest had tried to steal. (They used magic to put you in the new outfit. They're yanderes not creeps.)
"Oh... They truly are stunning. Are you sure they're a mortal?" Tubbo frowned for a moment, straightening up and pulling Chat away from your motionless figure so the crow would stop trying to peck at your jewellery.
"What do you mean?" Wilbur frowned at the younger god, his adopted brother. This had also caught the attention of the other gods
"I mean... Don't think they're a mortal, or at least they weren't born one..."
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realcube · 4 years
Text
haikyuu!! boys with a s/o that becomes clingy/affectionate while drunk
characters: kyōtani, kenma, iwaizumi, matsukawa and bokuto
thank you anon for this marvellous request mwah
ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!
tw// drinking, suggestive themes, sexual references, swearing
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Kentarō Kyōtani
kyōtani was used to having a cool, laid-back s/o who was just as awkward about physical touch as he was 
i mean, that’s kinda a part of the reason he liked you so much - so y’all could get over your awkwardness together
so imagine his surprise when his usually level-headed, calm s/o came stumbling out of the club, a blubbering mess and threw themselves into his arms, wailing something about a maths test
THE AMOUNT OF EMOTIONS THAT FLOODED HIS MIND IN THAT ONE MOMENT OMFG ADFGHJKL
he was like ‘omg why are they touching me? i kinda like it- wait are they crying? tf? i ain’t ever seen them cry before- should i help them? lord everyone is looking at us now. so what the fuck do i do- AYE DON’T TOUCH ME THERE’
so he had no choice but to dip with you flung over his shoulder lol
he took you back to your shared apartment and forced you to drink some water and instead of ordering a take-out, he just gave you his leftover burrito which he took to the club smh
it was probably cold 
but that was the best he could think of at the time bc he simply needed to shut you up with food bc the alcohol in your system was causing you to become especially touchy, hence resulting in kyōtani getting especially aroused
but the last thing he’d do is fuck you while you’re drunk and i firmly believe that despite the fact kyōtani is a bit of a lout - he still has like a basic moral compass
but i mean if you kept being so damn suggestive then it was gonna be a lot harder for him to resist his urges
you were rubbing him up and shit, calling him every pet name in the book so ofc he just stuck a burrito in your mouth and went ‘stfu 😡’
the painful part was that he was silently enjoying it too (┬┬﹏┬┬)
(though, he was red from blushing lol, not anger) 
and he wasn’t used to it either so obviously he was gonna get flustered, i mean, everything was happening all at once
oh and you told him ‘i love you’ and he literally combusted like lord have mercy on this man 
just that morning you were calling him your ‘annoying rat boyfriend’ (jokingly, ofc) and now you love him?-
that wasn’t the first time you told him that you loved him but he was still blushing none the less 
and he stammered out a ‘love you too’ PRAYING that you wouldn’t remember any of this the following day
anyway, he cuddled you to sleep and railed you as soon as you sobered up - the end ❤
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Kenma Kozume
pov: you’re kenma happily being a wallflower in the club then your s/o approaches you, demanding for you to fuck them 
- ok, end of POV - 
anyway, your speech was slurred so kenma wasn’t really sure if that was what you were asking him to do but if it was, he would’ve happily obliged if it wasn’t for the fact you were clearly drunk
mans was blushing though
bc y’all hardly ever do it but now - all of a sudden - you were tightly wrapped around him, garbling erotic threats into his ear
kenma was worried at first but you were like..really weak
so it wasn’t hard to get you off his torso, usher you out of the club and grip your hand as he ordered a taxi 
also kenma had read enough wattpad fanfictions to know how to deal with someone while they’re drunk 
but none of those fanfictions ever mentioned a single thing about how to deal with yourself while your partner is drunk
like seriously..he was in pain
both from the throbbing erection he had and the aching embarrassment he felt - both stemming from the fact you tried to give him a lap dance in taxi ✋ please oml
anyway, he took you back to his apartment and insisted that you have a few slices of the left-over pizza in the fridge along with a glass of water
after you changed into your pyjamas, you had clearly sobered up slightly as you could now compose coherent sentences
but that wasn’t any better for him bc now you were draped over him, whimpering into his ear about how much you love him
‘i’m so lucky to have you, kenma. i love you so much. you remind me of my first cat - you’re such a cat- i mean, blessing..you’re such a blessing.’ 
ngl, at that point he would be at a loss for words, just deciding to hug you until you fall asleep
like he finds it so cute that you’re finally opening up to him about how you feel as you’re usually quite composed and restrained 
but also- what does he do now? 
you eventually fell asleep in his arms and the next day, you woke up to kenma having made breakfast and telling you how much he adores you which was..confusing, to say the least
he told you about how you acted when you were drunk and to say you were embarrassed would be an understatement 
also, he’ll tease you about it for the rest of your life ;)
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Hajime Iwaizumi
literally all you had to do was send him a text like ‘iwa...,,.,...ily so mycj ❤’’ and he’s already waiting in the line to get into the club lol
he marches in there, finds you, grabs your hand and drags you home 
let’s hope that your friends know what iwaizumi looks like so they don’t have to just watch a random guy haul you out the club-
and tries to act all like angry iwaizumi >:( but when you are trailing behind him, muttering about how amazing he is, he becomes more like angy iwa grrr (*  ̄︿ ̄)
by that, i mean that angry iwaizumi would bring you home and lecture on how irresponsible it is to get so intoxicated 
but angy iwa just takes care of you but with a disapproving scowl 
and angry iwaizumi would make nasty, bitchy remarks about how inappropriate your outfit is 
while angy iwa would be like ‘babe, your outfit is lovely but maybe wear something different next time, idk....’
either way, he takes good care of you 
he makes sure you eat (and he cooks good food btw - he doesn’t make you eat leftovers lmao) 
he lets you change into more comfortable clothes
he ensures that you don’t die in the shower 
and he forces you to go to bed
but all of that is rather difficult when you’re clinging to him like your life depends on it, raving on about how sweet of a boyfriend he is and covering his face sloppy kisses
his original plan was to go train some more in his gym (yes, there is a gym in y’alls house-) but when you were peppering his cheek in kisses, begging him to stay with you for whatever reason, of course he didn’t have the balls to leave
 so he ended up laying like a log in bed as you cuddled up to him like koala, resting your head in his chest and allowing him to run his hand through your hair as you slept
in that moment - as he stared down at your tranquil figure - he realised how grateful he was for moments like these, as he finally got see a side of you that he knew you’d almost never exhibit when you’re sober
like yeah, you often tell him how much you love him but he can always tell that it’s as if you’re setting aside your pride to say such a thing but now, you’re gushing on about it with the most genuine look in your eyes, he can tell that you’re being completely sincere 
and to say that he adores it would be an understatement 
so yeah, you were kind of a pain while drunk but you were also the most adorable thing that iwaizumi had ever laid his eyes on (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)
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Issei Matsukawa
ok so the only reason matsukawa wasn’t getting drunk with you was bc the first time y’all got drunk together he got fined for public indecency and you got done for public intoxication
so you decided that it was best (for your wallets) if you took turns getting tipsy
emphasis on ‘tipsy’ bc you both went to the bar together (along with a few friends) and you promised matsukawa that you’d only have a few drinks 
so please explain to him why he is now having to carry you bridal style out of the bar because you are too hammered to walk properly 
and he was kinda grumpy bc he had to leave his friends mid-conversation bc not only were you pestering him but also, the erotic things you were whispering in his ear caused him to get a boner
and he was getting weird looks from people as he carried you home but that was the least of his problems tbh- he didn’t even notice lol
the biggest issue on his mind rn was the fact that you made him hard yet you can’t help him bc you’re drunk smh 
like he was tempted at first bc you seemed down to do it but he quickly came back to reality and realised how morally incorrect that’d be 
so he was mumbling curses the whole way home just to tune you out bc if he paid any more attention to the racy promises you were muttering in his ear- he’d explode
he’s alright at taking care of you like he isn’t iwaizumi’s level of caring but he’s a close second, i mean he’s gotten drunk plenty of times so he knows the basics
he was like ‘drink water idk lol ’
anyway, once he handled himself he wasn’t too fazed by your lustful advances
and he was so smug about it too deadass like ‘keep talkin’ me up, (y/n), you ain’t getting shit until you’re sober.’
smh ANYWAY he thinks you’re so charming when you’re like lovey-dovey drunk but SO annoying when you’re horny drunk bc like- he can’t get some (T_T)
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Kōtarō Bokuto 
best for last 👌
ok anyway he’s an athlete and he doesn’t need alcohol to have a good time- he’s forever drunk tbh- drunk on life :)
so while you’re getting hammered with your pals, he’s doing stupid shit while sober lol
once you both rendezvous outside the club to head home and you’re absolutely steamin- he’s just like ‘hi, babe! how’s your night been?’
SO OBLIVIOUS OML
anyway, he drives back to y’alls house and since you’re fatigued at first, you spent 90% of the car ride sleeping
but when you get home, more awake, you’re all up on him
but you’re not like sensual drunk- more like..emotional drunk but with love 🥺
so basically you are sobbing into his chest about whatever and bc he is an such empath he will start crying too, or at least get a bit emotional 
you could say something like, ‘omg, bo. i hardly get to see you because you’re at work so often- i wish i could spend more time with you. i miss you so much’  ╯︿╰
and he would deadass reply whole-heartedly while weeping into your shoulder, ‘I’M QUITTING VOLLEYBALL, (Y/N)!!’
(ok, so maybe he was a bit tipsy too- but like..definitely not has drunk as you)
he has no idea where to start when it comes to taking care of you but he tries (´◡` ‘) 
at the very least, he ensures that you don’t having any more alcohol and that you don’t die somehow 
he’s v overprotective though 
you could be getting a fork to eat your instant-noodles with and he’ll be like 
‘apologies ✋ but i cannot allow you to handle such a dangerous weapon while intoxicated. maybe eat with a spoon instead, idk.’ /h
other than that, he just cuddles you to sleep and deals with you in your badly hungover state the next day
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midnight-on-pluto · 3 years
Note
Omg I just had a great idea. Can you do a bnha reaction to lactose intolerance! Y/n but they dont care their lactose intolerant. They find them sat on the couch in the common room eating a tub of icecream and one of themselves just like "arent you lactose intolerant?" And y/ns just like "yeah and what about it?" And carrys on eating the icecream. I just think it would be hilarious.
Lactose Intolerant reader
Genre: fluff, crackfic
Warnings: swearing
A/N: as a fellow lactose intolerant i will write this with all my horrible experiences with dairy and the way my boyfriend acts whenever i eat the no no juice. enjoy!
✄——————————————————————
𓆝 Midoriya had honestly become unfazed to you eating dairy. you knew it would have dire consequences, but you frankly did not care. He hated when you did it still. So when he opened your dorm room door to see you chowing down on a tub of ice cream he just sighed. “You know you should really just get lactose free ice cream,” he mentioned. “that’s shit,” you respond. he huffs then goes, “did you at least have a pill?” slaps his forehead when you say no.
𓆝 Todoroki was confused when you told him. asks, “what’s lactose?” when you explain he then randomly starts buying lactose free stuff, ends up loving almond milk and oat milk. he doesn’t say much when he finds you because he knows it’s no use, just says, “you shouldn’t eat that.” and you know you’re being scolded. bought you lactose pills once so you went about half a month taking them out of guilt. after they ran out you just never told him and just suffer.
𓆝 Iida is on your ASS about it. omfg will not shut up when he finds you devouring chocolate or something. “y/n you must stop this,” he’s trying to pry your hands from the treat as the rest of 1-A stares horrified. gives up once he knows you won’t let go, why do you have so much strength right now? will make sure there’s lactose free stuff in the fridge, leaves a bottle of lactose pills in the cupboard, you don’t take them out of spite. gets a lot of “fuck you I’m eating the ice cream you left in the fridge” messages from you but he’s happy about it because unbeknownst to you he bought the ice cream for you and guess what? it has no dairy in it you miserable fuck.
𓆝 Bakugo is livid when he finds you eating dairy. literally yells at you “Y/N PUT THE SPOON DOWN YOU DUMMY STOP IT GIVE IT TO ME!!” he’s chasing you around please sprint do not give him it. out of humour you send him messages saying “i’m eat dairy rn” and he LOOSES HIS SHIT, all of UA hears him scream.
𓆝 Kirishima is so cute please!! he looks for lactose free recipes and makes you dinner. at first you were sceptical but holy fuck it’s so good. he buys you lactose free snacks, ice cream, chocolate, cookies, you name it he finds it. such a cutie he literally goes dairy free for you, doesn’t eat dairy anymore. he has it on the off time but he doesn’t want you to feel alone. also buys you lactose pills for when you do get dairy and makes sure you take it 15-20 minutes before dinner is ready.
𓆝 Kaminari is the chaos king so you know he watches you munchkin eat the ice cream and completely forgets your allergy. grabs a spoon and digs in himself. before you know it, sleepover in the living room and you guys eat snacks all night. loves getting messages saying “omg i regret that CHEESE” he finds them so funny. his personal favourite is “i gotta shid.”
𓆝 Shinsou doesn’t give a flying FUCK. buddy watches you eat ice cream and is internally disgusted with you and disappointed. flicks your forehead sometimes and says, “idiot” but other than that he won’t say anything. did get you lactose pills though and glares at you if you won’t take them.
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makeste · 3 years
Text
BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me
Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.
Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*^-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”
sweet jesus lord
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this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord
holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue
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fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees
anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last
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well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine
nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant
man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm
like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??
also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still
wait what? Death Arms retired??
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Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you
...okay but holy fuck
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Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance
(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.
seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)
anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more
“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit
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fine. it is a nice pun, I guess
-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid
-- like, yes!! this, right here!!
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exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much
huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol
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I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then
anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing
SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ
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SHOUTO?????
NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME
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OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long
Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love
now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might
ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG
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so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG
JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO
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shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues
-- the angst arc continues, SIR
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jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor
holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I’ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually
DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!
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lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE
OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD
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NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY
shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god
DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?
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I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????
holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that’s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me
and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most
-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS
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I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS
(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)
wait, what???
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WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?
-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol
oh my god I cannot
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his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here
YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK
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nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that
(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.
what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.
Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.
and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??
what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.
everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.
but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.
and he’s alone. again.)
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I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair
fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up
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I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was
HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING
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Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up
oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god
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THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus
omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao
anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY
368 notes · View notes
bokutoslittlebird · 4 years
Text
Request : And no no its fine but now i can stop thinking of kenma and his sister and a shameless kuroo. He probably wouldnt even pretend he wasnt there. He'd watch even as it ticked Kenma off and ask permission as soon as he's done omfg drool
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This isn’t the college au but rather Kenma in his condo-like house
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Includes: voyeurism/exhibitionism, m. masturbation, creampie, incest, cum-eating (implied), dubcon-ish, alcohol mention
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Off Limits
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He saw the way he looked at you. The short skirt and thin shirt the common outfit you adorned to see your beloved onii-chan. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know he’d have a guest. In fact, he didn’t know Kuroo would be visiting. Yet here he was, cat-like eyes trailing your form every time he asked for a drink because if your onii-chan did it, so could he. You would do anything for your beloved Kenma, even entertaining his perverted friend who ogled you.
“Don’t get comfortable,” Kenma scowled, disgust evident as Kuroo settled beneath the kotatsu.
“Why not? I’m cold and it’s warm. It’s not like it’ll be the first time I spend the night,” he shot back. Kenma continues to scowl, upset his quality time with you would be interrupted. “Plus,” Kuroo began, “I’d like to talk to your sister more. You never introduced her to me,”
“It wasn’t important,” was Kenma’s reply. He didn’t want to bother lingering on the fact you were shy and didn’t like anyone outside family. Not to mention Kenma knew the team would have gone bonkers over the possibility of having a female manager. He was the only man you needed, even Kuroo couldn’t give you what you needed. The rest of the evening continued in silence, the idle chatter coming mostly from Kuroo as he brought up countless memories from high school.
The evening ended once Kuroo had fallen asleep against a pillow you gave him. After clearing the dishes, you decided to clean them tonight instead of tomorrow. Your apartment was close by Kenma’s, but you weren’t able to move in with him until you finished your college classes. Humming, you scrub at the dishes and glasses, oblivious to your surroundings.
“We’re finally alone,” he whispers in your ear, licking the shell of it. You giggle and turn your head, seeing the familiar eyes of Kenma. “Stop washing the dishes, you can deal with them later,”
“Nii-chan, you know they’ll stay there until I do them. I doubt I’ll be able to get up early, you always keep me up late when I stay over,” you smile at him, a quick peck to his cheek as you break from his hold. Moving to get the rest of the dirty dishes, he moves them out of the way and cages you into the counter. “Nii-chan!”
“Shh, you don’t wanna wake our guest. You have online classes tomorrow, just wait. I can hardly contain myself,” his breath brushes over your face, the stench of alcohol evident as he does. You’re hesitant, but a brisk kiss to your lips has you wanting more. “Are you wearing my favorite panties?”
“Mhm! The white ones with a pink bow,” you breathe out, pushing your soft lips to his jaw. He hums in approval, hands coming to rest on your thighs. You’re soon positioned on the edge of the counter and Kenma between your thighs, keeping you spread as his hand dives beneath the waistband.
“You’re nice and wet for me, I’m so glad,” he licks your neck, biting into the skin to leave a mark. He doesn’t want to spend too much time with stripping you down and sending your body into overdrive. There’s no point, not when your cunt will take him whether you’re wet or not. Pressing his lips to your exposed shoulder, he’s quick to release his cock from his sweats. Pressing his tip to kiss your folds, you mewl at the touch. “I haven’t even done anything, yet,”
“I-I know,” your voice is small as you feel him push into you. “It’s just so nice that onii-san loves me,”
“Of course I do. That’s why you’re mine,” he lowly says, his voice almost a growl. He groans as you squeeze him, his cock barely in you as you’re already tightening for him. A groan from behind you has his eyes snapping to Kuroo’s form, his eyes open and lidded as he smirks. A nagging voice tells Kenma that his friend already knew the situation, just ogling you to piss him off.
A sharp thrust as your head is thrown back, a moan as you feel Kenma fill you out completely. Kenma averts his eyes from Kuroo, his friend’s hand undoing the pants keeping back his hard cock. Snapping his hips to yours, nails going underneath his hoodie to scratch at his back. His grunts are angry, his mood sour as Kuroo lazily watches you getting railed by your precious brother, his hand squeezing his cock. The mental image of Kuroo thinking he’s fucking you has Kenma picking up the pace, pulling down your shirt to litter your skin with hickeys.
“Nii— Nii-san! You’re being rough!” Your mewls egg both of the men on, high pitched squeals of pleasure as you gush around Kenma’s cock. He isn’t far behind you, groaning as he buries himself to the hilt and spills inside of you. The heavy breathing of him beside your ear covers the pleasured moan from Kuroo, his own cum splattering the carpet and his nice suit. He doesn’t look ashamed one bit.
“Can I have the next go?” He asks, licking his lips as you gasp, turning to see Kuroo wide awake and his predatory gaze on you. Kenma sighs, running a hand down his face.
“If you clean her up, sure. But you can only use your tongue.”
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carolmaximoffs · 4 years
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAIT OMFG i can’t believe so many of the coolest ppl in my life that i know are aquas. ily you’re NINETEEN that’s wild!! you know i love a good roommates or friends w benefits fic gimme gimme gimme 😗💜
a/n: THIS IS SO LATE AGH...here is your long overdue wanda x reader roommates fic, my love! so sorry for the wait, but thank you for your sweet words and your patience <3 @subtlebucky
pairing: wanda maximoff x reader
warnings: none really? maybe a curse. references to drinking, partying. jealous! reader. apologies to anyone named jillian, beck, or yasmine. sharing a bed, but not in THAT way. 
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WHEN YOU WAKE UP, you smell coffee already brewing. You stretch leisurely as you pad into the main part of your shared apartment, faux-flirtatious smile already gracing your lips.
“Smells good, baby!” You call. The laughter dissipates from your body as you pause in the kitchen doorway. Wanda is indeed sipping coffee in the kitchen, but is also standing between the legs of a tall, rather buff girl you’ve never seen before who’s perched comfortably on your island. “Oh.”
"Jill, this is my roommate, Y/N," Wanda says, perfectly at ease. You wonder if your eye really does twitch at the sight of Wanda's hand on Jill's thigh, but you pray it's just your imagination.
“Hi, uh, I didn’t - we’re not - hi.” Your face burns as you duck past them, reaching up into the cabinet for your mug before realizing it’s missing. You whirl around, about to ask Wanda, when you see it. And Wanda must realize it the same time you do, because she gives you this tight smile and wide eyes. Jill sips idly from your favorite cup, the one with the funny handle and your initial in rainbow gradient. Pietro, Wanda’s brother, had gifted it to you a few Christmas’s back - you know he’d have stopped Jillian from using it. Instead, you fill the most boring mug you and Wanda own - black, with a white outline of Sokovia in a red heart - and send your roommate a sour look. “I’ll just...”
You jerk your head towards the bedrooms, and stalk off. Maybe out of embarrassment, but mostly out of stubbornness, you pretend not to hear Wanda apologizing and making excuses on your behalf as you leave.
.......
Two weeks later, just when things are returning to normal, it happens again.
Well, more or less. It’s significantly darker out now, and this time you’re putting leftover Chinese food in the fridge when the door bursts open. Wanda all but falls into your apartment, a sharp-nosed girl with a deep violet buzzcut hot on her heels. Space Army Cadet and your best friend are hand in hand, the latter barely tossing you a glance as she drags her guest down the hall. And yeah, you’ve seen Wanda bring people home before - even brought a handful of people home yourself. Hell, one of you two’s closest friends was an ex of hers; oddball physics major, Vis, had been Wanda’s lover for the notable first three years of college.
 Lately, though, you’d noticed this...pit in your stomach, carved a little deeper with each new bedmate. Every time you shook it off - it wasn’t any of your business what Wanda did in her free time. Was it because they were women? You catch yourself wondering, but no - you’d never had an issue with that, why would you start now? Shutting the fridge, you shuffle back to your room, turning your TV up to drown out anything from Wanda’s room next door.
The next morning, the eccentric friend is nowhere to be found, but you did find there was a severe lack of alcohol in your coffee as Wanda cheerily filled you in. Buzzcut’s name was Yasmine, she was in Wanda’s European lit. course, and they’d gone out for drinks to celebrate Yasmine nearing the acquirement of her masters. You stare into your cup and hum at all the appropriate points, choosing not to point out that it was only November and nowhere near graduating season. Maybe Yasmine was on the fast track - Wanda always did like the smart ones. 
You become so absorbed in thought you don’t notice at first that your housemate has stopped chittering away. When you look up, it’s to a pouty frown. You shift in your seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “What?”
“Are you...okay?” Wanda’s frown deepens, brows furrowed as she brushes a stray lock of auburn from her face and folds her arms over her chest. “We...You’ve been a little distant lately, I guess.” 
“I’m fine,” You say breezily, rising to your feet to dump the dregs of your coffee in the sink. Some irritating heartstring twangs at your tone - you hate brushing Wanda off, but what are you supposed to say? Hey, can you stop bringing girls home? I think I’ve caught homophobia. You repress a shudder at the mere thought as you move to sweep past her and get ready for your first class, but a small hand curls around your bicep.
“Just...don’t be a stranger, okay, kedvesem?” Darling. Swallowing the lump in your throat, feeling curiously parched, you can only nod. Wanda lets go, but you can feel her fingerprints burning like a brand even when you’re lying in bed that night.
.....
The holidays go off more or less without a hitch; there’s a very scary hiccup shortly before Christmas when you come home to find Wanda curled into Vision’s side on the couch, the pair of them sharing a blanket. But Wanda looks...as if she’s been crying? Love Actually is playing, Wanda’s go to Christmas comfort movie, and Vision is texting someone called ‘Peter M.’ with an alarming number of heart emojis, so you continue onward. 
Your subconscious must be looking out for you otherwise, because it’s not until New Year’s that you see Wanda with a mystery lover. Actually, you don’t see much of Wanda at all outside of Christmas, and even when you do, it’s always just the two of you at home. Of course, because of this, she insists on dragging you out for a New Year’s party. When her twin, Pietro, gangs up on you via Facetime, you give up arguing and steal a shimmery black slip from Wanda’s closet before flipping them the bird. 
Pietro arrives around 10 to pick the pair of you up, obnoxiously laying on the horn outside of your apartment building. Wanda trips several times as she tries to shove on her other heel and put lipstick on at the same time. Making it out the door is a whole other ordeal - after a short spat about Wanda needing a jacket, an awkward moment when the elevator doors open on some neighbors practicing for midnight, and finding Pietro just about to buzz in to get you, you and Wanda are sliding into the backseat of Pietro’s obnoxiously cramped sports car.
“Ladies, your prince, or princess, awaits!” Pietro announces grandly as you pull up to a shabby loft just a few blocks away. You can hear the music from the street, sighing inwardly as you force yourself to get out of the car. Wanda smooths out her flowy black pants - you keep your eyes trained politely above her shoulders to ignore the fitted, maroon sequined top with the plunging V-neck she’s paired with them. 
“I’m actually meeting someone here,” She says casually to her brother as the three of you make your way in. Pietro waves her off with well-wishes, but throws you a questioning glance. All he gets however is a shrug in reply, this is certainly news to you. He accompanies you to the makeshift bar where you fill a cup with copious amounts of liquor. It usually wasn’t your vice, but the strobe lights alone could be cause to drink. You made a mental note to ask whose idea this party even was in the first place. when you turn around, though, Pietro, too, has slipped off into the crowd.
So you do what one is supposed to do at sweaty, too-loud functions such as this one - push yourself from your comfort zone, get comfortably tipsy while you wedge yourself into the mass of bodies and move with strangers. As mentioned, liquor and strangers have never been favorite pastimes of yours, so once you finish off your second drink (maybe third - you deserved it), you set out searching for Wanda. Her glittery form is tucked into a corner with a small group you don’t recognize, but you definitely note that she’s in the lap of a tall, dark, and handsome type. She spots you before you can get to her, making excited grabby hands as you get closer. 
“Y/N!” The bubbly young woman squeals over the music. She leans forward to be heard better, and you gulp. “This is Beck! And Jade, and Marcie, and you remember Yasmine!” 
You offer only a wave and tight smiles as you, too, lean in further. “I’m gonna get an Uber!”
“What?” Wanda pouts dramatically, Beck snaking an arm around her waist to steady her as she jolts back in disappointment. “It’s not even midnight yet!”
“No, I know, I’m just not really feeling it, I guess!” Yasmine leads over to whisper something to Jade; it’s the furthest thing from your mind as Wanda reaches out to squeeze your hands understandingly. 
“I’ll see you later! Kisses!” You repeat the word weakly before shoving once more through the mass. The sidewalk and cool bite of the outdoors is a welcome respite - your driver doesn’t speak all the way to your apartment, and you give them 5 stars for it. After a cold, quick shower, you curl up in your fuzziest bathrobe with a cup of coffee and flick through Netflix. You know when midnight rolls around when the neighbors upstairs, hosting a party of their own, cheer and shout to each other. It can’t be 20 minutes later that your door is met with a tentative knock.
On the other side is Vision in the most disarray you’ve seen him in - he’s in pajamas, for Pete’s sake, hair and glasses askew over a chunky knit sweater. He’s supporting an equally-bleary but much more drunk Wanda, and passes her to you with a wrinkled nose.
“Y/N!” She crows, dissolving into giggles as you shushed her. “I wondered where you went.” 
“I told you I was coming home, bubs,” You mutter, hugging her back briefly before you notice Vision is still standing in your entryway. “Hey, how about you go get changed, and then I’ll make you some eggs?”
Wanda agrees, talking animatedly even as she walks away. You look back at Vision, smiling wearily. “Thanks for bringing her home safe, Vis. Did you want a cup of coffee, or...?”
“No, thank you,” Vision quips, polite as ever as he tugs his sweater down over his hands. He jerks his dimpled chin the direction Wanda had disappeared in. “Take care of her, please.”
“Of course,” You reply, instantly, brows furrowing. He nods briskly before turning to leave. “Thank you again.”
“Of course. Goodnight.” He’s almost to the elevators when you call a ‘Happy New Year’ after him, and that earns you a smile. “Happy New Year to you as well, Y/N.”
Back inside, you find Wanda spread eagle on her bed in mismatched socks, an old college hoodie, and the same underwear you’re pretty sure she wore to go out tonight. You poke her heel and she makes a frankly unhuman gurgle into the duvet. “How much did you have?”
“Nah a lah,” Is her muffled reply. “We’on dwink anymo’.” 
You realize she’s right, though you figured she was at least taking some of those dates to bars. Maybe not, though - Wanda was always a romantic. You push the mere though away and tug at the arm closest to you. “Yeah, I know. You’ll feel better if you eat something, though.” 
Her protesting grunts are less effective than when she kicks out blindly, narrowly avoiding your hip, and you huff. “Fine, I’ll bring the food to you.”  You make to leave, but she’s captured your wrist now. Wanda turns her head to make powerful puppy eyes at you. “Stay. Sleepy.” 
“I...yeah. Okay.” You were still a little tipsy in your own right - neither of you were college kids anymore, after all. Wanda’s smile was blinding as the pair of you made your way under her numerous layers of blankets. When she turned the lamp off, you wondered if she could hear your heart thundering in the dark.
“Y/N?” She whispers, just when you think she’s fallen asleep. 
“Yes, Wanda?” 
“I love you.”
You hum in acknowledgment, brushing it off as dreaming.
--------
Midday, you’re roused by someone laying across your stomach and shaking you awake. It’s Wanda, long lashes fluttering prettily as she rests her chin on folded elbows. You scrub sleep from your eyes as you croak, “Morning, sunshine.”
“Morning, Y/N.” She says your name with purpose - sort of always has, you realize. You’re running over last night in your head, and like a mind reader, Wanda answers your every question. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Still love you.” Wanda murmurs. You meet her gaze - completely clear, if not a little glazed over with absolute adoration. She pushes up a little, lips hovering over yours. They brush just barely when you speak, sparking like live wires. 
“I love you, too,” You breathe, and finally, finally, she kisses you. 
Things make so, so much more sense then.
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