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slowpoke272 · 2 years

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“pet sematary” by stephen king

finished: february 2, 2023

okay, so i have a lot of thoughts about this book. this is my fourth stephen king read, following: - "IT" read in 2019 (hardcover) - "'salem's lot" read in 2020 (paperback) - "the stand" read in 2022 (audiobook)

(why did i put those details, i'm not sure, but they're there now.) i was pretty excited getting into this one because of what i had heard, but it was a nice balance of me being familiar with the premise without knowing much of the story or what happens. this worked to its advantage and disadvantage, as i think even seeing a trailer for a movie adaptation changes what you know about a story and helps frame it. this has also made me really consider whether i want to watch any stephen king adaptations in the future, knowing the book is always going to be so different, and in most cases, much better and more thought-out. the irony here is that i never would have gotten into reading stephen king until i saw "IT (chapter 1)" in 2017, and initially when i first saw the trailer for that movie, i immediately said out loud "nope, nope, i don't want to see that, i never want to see that, how could anyone choose to go see that." how things change! thankfully. actually, after reading "the stand" and watching the trailer for the recent 2020 adaptation, while i thought the casting was pretty good (although nadine is so wrong to me and unacceptable tbh) i could see so many differences already and i further read what the changes were and decided it wasn't an adaptation of the story i needed to see. that's probably the best way to frame it; just a different adaptation of the same story. like a reboot of a television show, a revival of a broadway play, or a remix of a song, it will never be the original piece its derived from. comparison is unhelpful and we should just take each story as a different take on a similar universe, but there are some adaptations not worth seeing. in my case, i feel like i've seen enough stephen king stories on the big screen already that i don't need to seek any out until after i consume the original story. "the shining," "shawshank redemption," and "the green mile" are movies i grew up watching.

with that in mind, when pet sematary (2019) came out, i was intrigued and wanted to see the film. from the trailer, i gathered that death of animals was a prominent theme, and that made me nervous about whether i was able to handle it. they cast john lithgow as jud though, and that seems perfect. that seems to be a recurring theme in movie/tv adaptations, maybe the story isn't as solid as the original but it's cool to see actors take on the role and fit it so well. so if you think of pet sematary (2019) as john lithgow's monologuing of the character with all the other millions spent just to make it decorated nicely... well, maybe it's worth it then, heh.

this is all context leading me to explain that this is my fourth king novel, seeing the movie trailer exposed me to some of the story, i loved the story and the thrill of it, but... the ending was weird. and i don't mean weird in a "horror" kind of weird, obviously it was leading us to this place and so in that way it landed where i thought it would, but idk. i guess i need more time to process it? this was a short novel and i loved how the pacing felt so quick but we really felt like we got the depth of each character and how they handle death. by now i'm starting to see the stephen king pattern, or really any author or story pattern really, of introducing characters, getting deep in their psyche and desires while a mysterious scary thing is surfacing, the thing gets closer, the characters grapple with it head on, shit hits the fan, and then.... i guess what i'm learning is the resolution may vary based on each story. i feel like "IT" and "the stand" were given such fledged out resolutions, regardless of what happens you can pretty much guess where the characters go after. "'salem's lot" was more like "pet sematary," sometimes the shit hitting the fan IS the resolution? sometimes there is no resolution? obviously i'm fine with no happy ending, obviously i wouldn't take on reading stephen king if that weren't the case... idk, i just can't pinpoint what it is about the ending of "pet sematary" that left me... empty. not in a good way. but maybe that's how this novel is meant to be taken.

i did really enjoy and appreciate king's forward, or his warning rather, that this story he felt he took too far. i totally understand what he means, there are certain lines even in horror movies we don't cross, but it was tactfully done. having said all that, despite my love for john lithgow and believing that he would make the perfect jud, i don't have any specific need to see the 2019 adaptation of the movie, or even the older adaptation. i feel like the book is worth revisiting for the first 3/4 but that last part... i got through it and i don't feel the need to do that ride again. and that's a first for me for any stephen king story.

from here i'm gonna get into some spoilers and details, so i'm placing that behind a cut. and if you think it took me a long time just to confess that i wasn't wild about the ending of the book, wait until you see how long it takes me to talk about the things i did love, because i loved a lot about this book! hehe

oh, where to start. i guess i'll start with the characters. they are great. louis is immediately established as a trusted narrator (even though it's third person, it's clear from the start that louis is our main guy and who we will be experiencing the bulk of the story through) and i loved that he was a doctor. he believed in science and his brain was logical. i also fully believed his number one devotion in life was to his children and protecting them at all costs, which ends up being the ultimate horror as we get into the bad side of not being able to accept your child's death. rachel, sweet rachel was wonderful. i loved the arc about her sister zelda and her trauma regarding that, and the after effects it still had on rachel and her parents. i wanted to reach through the book and hug rachel, listen to her, help her, make cookies with her and ellie. i think one of my favorite things about the book was rachel's resistance to death and how it led her ultimately to chasing it down as she tried to save her husband. i think there's a lot of rachels in our society and i don't blame her for wanting to protect ellie's innocence when she (rachel) herself suffered so much from death at an early age. but let's face it, zelda's loss wasn't just about zelda dying, it was the heartbreak that was taking care of zelda at all and the way it changed rachel and her parents and their relationship to one another. that seems like a pretty harrowing warning, an appreciation that if you've never had to care for someone who can't take care of themselves.... consider yourself grateful, it's the toughest job. rachel and her parents never seemed to find peace regarding zelda (and her frankly bratty behavior despite her condition) and they focus on the loss of zelda rather than addressing the turmoil that surfaced prior to her death. also very on point and representative of a large population, i suspect. i personally have never had to care for a human in that way, but i have cared for (don't laugh, i'm white, i know) numerous pets in their old age as their health declined, i know the hopelessness. i know the heart it takes for a pet, and while i consider pets to be part of my family and i've been closer with more animals than humans, i understand that it's not quite the same as a human, but i hold the respect for anyone who is a caretaker and i respect the heart they need to withstand that day in and day out.

the kids. from the beginning with the bee sting it was clear that gage would be the story's resident embodiment of innocence. the biggest change i can gather from the 2019 adaptation, at least from the trailer, is it appears ellie is the one who is exhumed instead of gage. my main gripe with the trailer now looking back is it gave me an understanding that the children being different would be the horror of the story, and the adults would have to figure out how to fix them/stop it. that's not really the case, the horror is really the burial ground summoning louis and jud to a degree. after all, if it weren't for jud and his prior connection to the burial ground, none of this would have happened. i feel like it was an obviously massive red flag to the creeds when they first move in and meet their news neighbors and within their first few meetings, jud is like "well i oughtta take you back to show you this thing all the kids play on." anyway, the kids. i loved the kids, i loved ellie's curiosity for life, the only thing i found kinda off with the kids from the beginning is their ages. whereas it appears the 2019 adaptation has them a bit older, the kids don't seem quite age appropriate to me, even for having a doctor for a dad. ellie is 5 but is asking some pretty eloquent questions on her own, and i'm sure it's possible and there are kids out there that are like that from a young age, but then she would like snap back to acting like a 5 year old. it's like she was 7-8 years old when speaking with her parents but the rest of the time she was 5, then eventually 6. i feel the same for gage too. i get that he was an innocent baby and for purpose of the story he's meant to be totally vulnerable and defenseless, so he barely even crawls, but he's able to repeat words back easily. i just imagined the kids a little bit older than what they were stated as, a little nitpicky of me and doesn't really change the story. they're kids, we get it.

i have to say though, if i had to pinpoint something about the ending that i straight up didn't like, or felt robbed of, it's ellie. she was left with her grandparents and????? then what??????? i totally supported rachel leaving her behind, and i also would understand if she ended up just staying with her grandparents, but that we had no resolution or revisiting of poor ellie felt cheated. her mom was murdered, her brother just died, she was experiencing the messaging from the burial ground and felt things were off, she knew enough of what was going on but was left in the dust. and louis, who started out as the devoted father who would do anything for his kids, suddenly is fine leaving his 6 year old with her grandparents who he hates? i mean, to this point at least we saw louis breaking down slowly his grip on his ability to protect his family. he felt he was doing the best for his family by exhuming gage but he was hurting rachel and ellie in the process and didn't even bother to notice. i just wish we even heard from ellie in the sense of maybe her waking up in the middle of the night in terror or something like she had been. both her parents were gone, she was grieving gage wicked hard, she was in tune with the burial ground and felt the presence of evil, but we just left her without any acknowledgment whatsoever. poor ellie.

i also kinda felt like jud was given a cheap send off. i know he was old and his age was a constant reminder, so i expected him to die, but the way he was so determined and willing to die defending louis, i just thought he would have been able to put up more of a fight in the final battle, or had some cool last line or something. he had seen church before in his exhumed state, he knew what the burial ground was capable of, so i just can't imagine seeing gage would make him freeze up, but i guess.

which leads me back to king's warning at the beginning: this book was the one he thought he took to far. well, damn, i understand why he felt that way. i liked the way gage's death was nonchalantly mentioned before it happened; as gruesome as it is, the baby dying isn't the horror of the story. the horror of the story is the burial ground influencing the educated, logical, devoted father into thinking exhuming his child for a rebirthing would be any kind of a good idea. and man, was it horrific. starting from gage's death, you get a real feeling that louis is drifting away immediately, as are rachel and ellie, but that's where the story sticks with louis as its protagonist. by the time louis arrives at the decision to dig up gage's grave, we already know what he's thinking, we already know he's going to do it, and just in case we didn't we had jud checking in on him. the cemetery parts were so unbelievably uncomfortable i thought i was going to jump out of my own skin. really impressive writing.

of course one of the main reasons i was drawn to listen to "pet sematary" was the narrator being michael c. hall. as a big dexter fan, i knew michael would take it where it needed to go and was delighted at the idea of him reading a king novel. michael. did. such. a. phenomenal. job. like. scores above what i ever thought he could, and i knew he would do great. i lovedddddd his accent for jud, to me he nailed that perfect and i ironically was picturing john lithgow. BUT from hearing john lithgow talk in the 2019 adaptation trailer, it doesn't even sound like john had that accent for the movie. this is why any desire i had to see the adaptation, even just for funsies, has mostly died. you can't cast better than john lithgow for a jud but the fact that he didn't have that accent tells me everything i need to know about how seriously and delicately the film took the story. if you're willing to do that to jud idk what else you're willing to do to it but i don't need it, thank you. michael also did a phenomenal job with the kids, he just absolutely nailed this narration and of course when louis got into his dark element, michael shined brightest. i swear i could hear the dexter main theme playing in the back of my head while hearing michael spout off the graphic monologuing of louis. simply fantastic and made the horror of the story that much more intense.

i was delighted that while there was a cat death, it was manageable. i'm childless but have always had a special connection with cats, so if a death is gonna hit me, it's gonna be church's. i really like the name church for a cat and might have to name one after him someday, although his name would be winston churchill, he would be named after stephen king's fictional cat.

overall i just really loved how this story handled death, it feels like stephen king is the louis assuring us, society, rachel that death is natural and we don't have to like it, but we need to accept it. to this day there are still so many of us who would rather not talk about it at all, as if it doesn't exist, but we've all obviously got our zeldas in all shapes and sizes. i would definitely not recommend this book to just anyone, i would say it takes someone very comfortable with death, and even then i would specifically warn about child and animal death. it's very heavy and very much not for everyone. this is the brand of stephen king that makes some folks turn their heads immediately and run the other direction. but with finishing this book i can confidently say i wanna get through stephen king's entire catalog, all 70+ novels and short story collections. 4 down, something like 73ish to go?

rating: 8/10 thought it was worth at least reading once for avid readers; the story will stick with me for quite some time

#stephen king #pet sematary #michael c hall

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taeescript · 3 years

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two ships (m)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> he was a boy. you’re just a girl. can it be any more obvious? but seriously. he’s your best friend, and you aren’t exactly looking to change that any time soon. (you think?!)

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. taehyung

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> best friends to lovers; was initially pwp but then i was also craving some fluffy squeezes

𝔴/𝔠 >> 11.6k (yikes)

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> fluffy tae, concerned tae, indecisive reader, some eavesdropping and sexy scenes that occur in a bathroom (?!) but in all seriousness, this is 18+ so please do not interact if you are a minor. as this includes oral (m receiving), unprotected penetration (always protecc guys), some praise kinks i guess and finally post-coital cuddles

𝔞/𝔫 >> was i inspired by david schwimmer’s quote about how he felt about jenn? yes. was i also influenced by tae’s usual adorably cute yet sexy shenanigans? big yes. did i write this so i could participate in one of my all time favourite tropes? hard yes. okay i’ll shut up now so you can enjoy. and i really hope you do! (:

masterlist

“Quick, what do you want in your coffee?” you speak into your phone. The barista is patiently waiting, finger poised to type at your command.

“I don’t know. Something sweet,” Mei says, slightly distracted. “Do I have a yellow top with flowers? This one is cute, but I feel like I always get floral stuff.”

“Something sweet?” you reiterate to the barista. She turns and looks at the menu.

“A lemonade,” Kira, your other friend, says over your shoulder to the barista. “That’s all for today.”

“Did Kira just order me another lemonade? Seriously, I say I like it once and that’s all she ever gets for me,” Mei complains.

Kira takes the phone from your hand and begins to walk away, very likely the two bickering about this lemonade conundrum. Shopping bags swing from her hands, and an equally heavy number of items are over your wrists as well.

You roll your eyes at them and turn back to the matter at hand. “I’ll take an Americano, please. Iced. No milk. And I’ll pay with card,” you tell her in a way that best expedites this process.

A few minutes later, your phone is back in your hand, and you and Kira are standing waiting for your order.

“Did Mei end up getting that top?” you ask, offhandedly.

Kira shrugs. She is consumed with checking her work email despite it being her day off. The three of you had decided to hit the mall to do some therapy shopping after a particular stressful business closing at the company that you all work for.

“Mei’s always buying something. I wouldn’t be surprised if she one day ends up with the same thing in her closet,” Kira says. Her inbox has been closed and she is now scrolling through Instagram. “Are you going to Taehyung’s party tonight?”

“Mhmm,” you say, now also consumed with checking your social media. “Dean is coming to pick me up a little early so we can eat dinner before going. Oh, these sunglasses are just what I’ve been looking for!” You show her your screen where a model you follow has uploaded a new photo. In addition to the three of you sharing the same job, your group of friends overlapped heavily.

Kira finally looks at you, a smirk on her lips. “Dinner, huh?” She completely ignores your latter comment. “Last time you guys went to dinner before a party, the two of you didn’t show up until two hours later. Or right after I texted you to get out of bed you horny bitch.”

“I told you, we had to hang up the TV as his place! His parents were going to come over the day after!”

She nods, as if to say “sure, whatever you say.” You flip the attack back on her in a weak attempt. “Are you going tonight? Is it weird seeing Tae?”

Brushing past you, she retrieves the drinks that the two of you have been waiting for. She scans the growing crowd outside the shop to see if Mei is in sight. When she returns, you have secured a small booth where the two of you could wait for the last member of your trio.

“Yeah, I’ll stop by. And no. Our relationship was fun while it lasted, but we’ve both pretty much moved on. He dated that blonde chick he met on Tinder for a while, didn’t he?”

“Ugh,” you say, “Don’t remind me of her. I know I’m supposed to try my best to accept all his beaus, but she was unbearable. I’m glad they only went on a few dates.”

Kira spies Mei pushing her way into the coffee shop just as your phone buzzes. You excuse yourself to take the call just as Mei makes it onto a seat.

“Where’s she off to?” Mei asks. Of the three, she carries the most amount of shopping bags.

Kira eyes the newest addition Mei’s haul and gives a small sigh. Biting her tongue on the comment, she answers Mei’s question instead. “Phone call. Are you going to Taehyung’s party tonight?”

Nodding animatedly, Mei takes a sip of her sour drink. She pulls a quick face. “I’ve been planning my outfit for it since he sent me the invite. Do you think Yoongi’s going to be there? And are you going? Are things still weird between the two of you?”

Kira sighs loudly this time. “Things are fine. He’s already seen like three other people since we’ve broken up. That was also last summer.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t seen anybody since. If Yoongi is going to be there, he’ll probably bring Hoseok. I think you guys would make a good match.”

“Ugh. Maybe we can start dating outside of our circle of friends. I want to avoid another messy breakup. Don’t get me wrong, it was completely mutual between Taehyung and I, but it was just so awkward after. You know how close Y/N and he is.”

Mei hums. “True. She tried her best, but I think she felt conflicted in thinking she needed to take either your side or his side.”

“There were no sides. But honestly, I wouldn’t have been angry if she had taken his. They’ve known each other since they were kids, and they’re best friends.”

You have returned to the two of them at this point. Your face is flushed an angry red, and there is a glazed look across your face. Mei stands up so fast she nearly knocks her drink off the table.

The amount of people packed into the rented Airbnb pool house is absurd. People have brought friends who have also brought their mutual acquaintance’s friends over to create a crowd that is still increasing despite the deepening night. Loud pop music pumps over the speakers across the lawn, with contrasting obnoxious EDM beats emitting from inside the building. Bodies are swarming and mingling under the hot summer sun as they converse, drink and share stories. In the center of the crowd is an equally filled pool ranging from people fully submerged to those who sit at the side with their toes dipped in the water.

“Holy shit,” Kira whistles when the three of you arrive. She has changed into a relaxed sheer top that covers her neon bikini top paired with jean shorts. Her long brown hair is wrapped into a bun and sunglasses are perched on the tip of her nose. This is what she is peering over to scan the people in front of her. “Now this is a party.”

Mei bounces excitedly in her floral sundress while her eyes dart around. “Do you think the boys have already arrived? I texted them in the car.”

“Knowing them, they probably were already here in the afternoon. I hope they’re sober enough to last the rest of the night,” Kira says with a roll of her eyes.

Standing off to the side with a six pack of coolers, you are more sullen than your friends. It had been with a lot of persuading and encouragement that you have shown up to the party. The sour taste from your afternoon encounter lingers on your tongue and you scowl.

“Okay, you know what?” Kira immediately says when she notices the look on your face. She takes the coolers from your hand and sets them on the ground before tearing one out and open. “I know we should probably say hi first, but you’re going to get this in your system. The breakup was shit but Dean was also shit.”

Mei hits Kira on the arm. “Oh my god, could you be any more insensitive?”

Handing you the can, she instructs you to drink while she opens one for herself. You reluctantly tip the sweet liquid into your throat.

“I’m just saying. He honestly was and I’m sort of glad that the two of you are over. He never made an effort to hang out with us, and kept you to himself. And as if to solidify his shitiness, he also decided you were only worth a breakup over the phone,” Kira states. She and Mei watch you quietly for your reaction.

You know that what she has said is true. Dean was an impulse boyfriend. And if you were to truly break it down, a rebound from your previous boyfriend who technically was also a rebound from the one before that. You couldn’t help it, however. You hated being alone and those boys were there when you needed. Truthfully, you had always been surprised that you and Dean had lasted as long as you had.

“Always more and better fish in the sea,” Mei says with a grin. She then shoves her phone in your face. “Think you can text your bestie for me? Nobody is responding in the group chat, and honestly I didn’t dress this cute just for you girls.”

“More fish in the sea, hmm?” you murmur somewhat softly after a while.

You can’t help but chuckle. Mei is still attached to your arm as you bring out your phone when a voice interrupts the three of you.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

Turning, you greet the two who have walked up to you. From the corner of your eye, you notice Mei busily fixes her bangs. Kira takes the coolers and hands them to the two.

“You would’ve thought that a gentleman would offer to help carry these in,” Kira says with a drawl. She makes eye contact with the taller of the two, and there is a dangerous sparkle in her eyes.

“I was, and I am,” he says, taking the coolers from her. Hoseok smirks when he sees how annoyed Kira has become, although she has not fought back on his words. He has on a t-shirt, but it is evident that he had come from the pool as patches of wet cloth cling to his body and accentuate his lean torso.

Mei gives a small wave to the other. “Hi Yoongi,” she says shyly. Mei may have been loud and rambunctious when it came to fashion, but in front of her crush, she is as meek as a lamb.

The dark-haired boy smiles kindly, and his eyes give a lazy wink only for her. “Hey Mei. Sorry I didn’t respond to your text. We were a little busy. I told Hoseok that we’d better come to the entrance to see if we could catch you.” Mei titters flirtatiously at his statement.

You wave to the both of them, friends that you have known for even longer than Kira and Mei. “Hello to the both of you too. I’m doing well, how are you?”

Hoseok regards you for a moment, his gaze hesitantly leaving Kira for the time being. “Oh hey, Y/N. Glad to see you. Also not two hours later than the event time.”

His words make you bite the inside of your cheek uncomfortably. “Yeah. Anyways, let me bring the drinks in. I’ll let you all catch up.” You say this to him, but you feel as if you are speaking into air as the two pairs are already engrossed in private conversations. In a final attempt you ask, “Do you know where Tae is? Thought I’d say hi as well.”

Yoongi surprises you by answering. “Last I saw he was by the green umbrella close to the pool with Namjoon.”

You thank him and begin to weave your way through the crowd. Upon going closer to the pool, you see with a disappointment that there is more than one green umbrella. You try to peek at a couple of groups that sit under such umbrellas, but you do not recognize the top of a very familiar head in which you have had sleepovers with since the two of you were six.

Taehyung and you met when your parents had decided to hire the services of a private bus driver to bring the two of you home after school. You can’t quite recall who had initiated it (you’re leaning towards him), but at the end of the day both sets of parents had received angry calls about how the two of you would never sit, but instead would hide in the trunk of the car throughout the whole ride. The driver complained that you were both too loud, and that it was a hazard both to himself and the two of you if neither were to not behave. At that point, Taehyung’s mother had suggested to yours that since you all lived close enough, the two of you could be walking buddies. Eventually, it became that each set of parents would look over the two of you every other day after school as the other set would pick their respective child up after work was finished.

You never understand how the two of you became such fast and quick best friends. He was definitely more mischievous than you were, and you probably got into more trouble with him than if you had been alone. But he was so outgoing, and friendly. You found yourself always trying things out, and never being afraid to do so as you knew he’d be right there by your side. He made friends wherever he went, and he never tried to hold these people to himself. He always made you feel welcomed in their presence. It was perhaps fate. The two of you ended up going to the same university together, and even ended up working at the same city.

It had also always been a running joke amongst your friend circle, as well as amongst your parents and their friends, that the two of you would end up dating or married. Yet, it had been left as a joke. You each dated (Taehyung surprisingly the one who kept much steadier relationships), and you held onto your friendship with him with such endearment and ferocity.

You greet a few people you recognize inside the house. It is much louder and hotter than it is outside. In a few moments, you are sweating profusely and are looking for an exit. In the distance, you spot a balcony closer to the back of the house that is less populated. After a few bumps and plenty of “excuse me”s, you reach the open frame. A humid, but cooling breeze blows towards your face. You nearly sigh audibly at the relief.

“- broke up.”

These are the two words you hear as you near what you thought had been an empty spot.

“Who?”

“Y/N and Dean. They broke up.”

You recognize the voices. Peering just around the corner, you see his outgrown curly hair. He wears a simple black t-shirt with sunglasses slipped into the V-neck across his chest. Holding a dripping icy beer in one hand, he stands beside Namjoon. The two of them are covered in the shade, but you are able to clearly make out the movement of his throat as his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I didn’t know. Who told you?”

“You didn’t know?” Namjoon says with a raise of his brows. “I thought the two of you spoke about everything. And Yoongi did. He’s been crazy texting Mei for the last week.”

You are about to step up and explain to him that your phone had died when Namjoon’s next words stop you.

“So, think you’re going to tell her this time?” he asks.

Taehyung takes a swig of his beer. He exhales, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. His fingers linger on his lips, and he begins to pick at them – a nervous habit you knew he had.

“Tell her what?” Taehyung asks nonchalantly.

Namjoon scoffs. He leans against the banister, and also drinks from his glass. He has chosen a darker liquid which you believe may have been his go-to rum and Coke. “You know exactly what,” he says. “You think you’ve hidden it so well, but the guys and I talk about it.”

“Oh?” Taehyung says, “You guys talk about me behind my back?”

Again, Namjoon rolls his eyes. He stands up a little taller and comes closer to Taehyung. “Stop trying to act coy, Kim Taehyung. I’m asking if you’ll confess your little crush to your best friend.”

Your heart stops in your chest.

Taehyung pushes Namjoon’s chest lightly with the hand holding the beer. The other, he grips the railings and leans out to look out below to the ongoing party. “Stop calling it a crush. It makes me feel like I’m in first grade.”

To this, Namjoon laughs. “Well according to you, that’s when you first developed your crush. What was it? You told me you really liked this girl who you were fooling around with in the backseat of a car? Very suggestive wording from a six year old, might I add.”

Your heart resumes its beating, but each thumps fills your head. You want to shake your head to rid it of the pounding, but another part of you does not want to risk missing any of this conversation.

“You know exactly what I was trying to say, you dirty-minded ass,” Taehyung says. There is a light-heartedness to his voice, but also a deeper tone of reflection.

“C’mon, Taehyung, it’s been years.”

“I don’t know.”

The two of them are silent for a while, neither of them drinking. Behind you, the sound of the party becomes louder than ever as its attendees become more drunk and lively.

“We were always two ships passing one another,” Taehyung finally says. “Someone was always in a relationship. I had a crush on her first, but then she started dating. Eventually she was single again, but then I had begun to see someone.”

“Maybe now’s the time,” Namjoon says.

Taehyung sighs. “Maybe. I guess since we’re both single. But over the years I’ve thought, do I even want to take that chance? To ruin a perfectly good relationship. Even if I can’t say I love you as her lover, I’m simply happy being able to say I love you as her friend.”

His words make you take a step back.

Sure, you had heard him say those words to you countless times over the years, but you had never known… Furthermore, it wasn’t like you hadn’t made it obvious that you had also had feelings for him once upon a time. Every Valentine’s Day, you would get him a card and a gift. You never did it for any of the people you had seen – he knew that; you have reiterated a millions times how cheesy you thought Valentine’s was – but, he had simply always returned with a small box of no name chocolates.

“Are you okay with that?”

Their conversation continues unbeknownst to their eavesdropper.

“I’ll have to be.”

That is the last thing you hear before you run out.

The group has been reunited by the pool by the time you step back out. The sun beats down onto the top of your head and you’re unsure if you are light-headed because of the heat or the way your heart had been working complete overtime after overhearing that conversation.

Kira and Mei have since changed into their swimsuits. Mei is treading in the water with Yoongi off closer to the deep end, her giggles unabashedly loud, while Kira sits at the side of the pool. Hoseok is attempting to drag her down into the water with him, while she splashes at him with flirtatious annoyance.

You sit a little way from Kira, sipping quietly on your cooler while observing the unfolding scenes before you. Not really fully a part of any of the conversations around you, you are mainly trapped in your own mind until the seat beside you suddenly becomes taken.

“What’s on your mind, DP?”

It was an inside joke from years ago when you had thought the word “dipshit” was the funniest thing in the world. You had started overusing it in your everyday conversations, and Taehyung had thought it to be a fitting nickname for you since then. Why he had chosen DP and not DS boggled your mind, but you guess not being referred to as a Nintendo console was a smidge better.

“Earth to Y/N?” Taehyung says again when you do not respond.

You look at him. He has turned away from you, dipping his hands into the water where the two of you are submerged mid-calves into. He wets his palms and then comb it through his hair, slicking each tendril back until his forehead is bare and he looks like a sexy member of a 90s boy band. You note that his cheeks are flushed from being hours in the sun without reapplication of sunscreen, and his nose has begun to burn. When he laughs at Hoseok finally successfully pulling Kira into the water, he throws his head back and you follow the line of his jaw to his pretty throat and sharp collarbones.

All these thoughts swirl around. This is your best friend whom you’ve grown up with and known since the two of you were six. He was not supposed to make your heart flutter, and he was not supposed to make your brain imagine all this weird shit. You were supposed to look at other people and they were supposed to make the thing in your chest flip flop.

Fuck you, Kim Taehyung.

You guess that perhaps that had not been as internal as you had opened as when you refocus to whatever is happening in front of you, Taehyung has an eyebrow raised. His beer can is halfway up, but it has since stopped moving when he had heard your whisper. Once again, you need to quickly divert your eyes away from his lips which glisten from moisture.

“Jeez. I know you’re not much of a summer person, but are you okay?”

Taking this cue, you set your drink down loudly beside you and proceed to lift your shirt off your back. Once you have stripped down to your bathing suit, you wordlessly slip into the pool and begin to swim towards where Hoseok and Kira are. You do not care. Even being a third wheel there is better than one more moment with him. From behind, you hear Taehyung yell.

“Okay, what the hell? Did I say something wrong? Y/N!”

Fucking Christ, Taehyung. Jesus fucking Christ.

You do all you can to avoid him for the rest of the party. You linger unnecessarily long by where some kids are playing beer pong. You take every excuse you can to refill people with their drinks. You even go as far as to insert yourself (very awkwardly) into a circle of people whom you vaguely recognize as old classmates. You see that Taehyung has tried to catch your eyes a few times, but you manage to dip and thread your way between people until you find yourself forcefully laughing alongside the tailend of a joke amongst strangers. You need to ignore the flush of your face when they all turn to you with a strange look on your faces.

As the night draws to a near and the crowd starts to dissipate, it soon becomes your little group of friends that sit around the campfire. You have purposefully picked a spot opposite of where Taehyung sits, even though that means an aching back and extremely sore butt on the rock which you are perched. Without looking up, you already feel his gaze on you across the fire.

“Dude, I wouldn’t want to walk in on any of you let alone participate in any of your threesomes,” someone is saying.

“You’re only saying that cuz you know my dick is bigger than yours,” Hoseok retaliates.

Jimin, another one of your friends, gags. “What does dick size have anything to do with this? Also, gross. Now I have an image of your dick in my mind.”

“I mean, I’d take the bigger dick,” Kira throws out nonchalantly. She turns and stares pointedly at Hoseok, the message loud and clear for everyone in the group at this point.

The whole group groans when the two begin making out on the spot, their tongues intertwined while his hands grab her thighs.

“Jesus, I feel like I’m back in university,” Taehyung says with a laugh. “Y/N, if you had a choice, whom out of us would be the worst to walk in on?”

You look up when you hear your name being called. This is the first since you have arrived that the either of you have shared even a single word. You had been picking at your s’more and trying to overcome the big buzz from the copious amounts of alcohol intake on an otherwise empty stomach.

“What?” you ask, genuinely confused as you had not been keeping up with any of what has been said.

Mei speaks up from her spot on Yoongi’s lap. “It’d probably be you, Tae. You guys have known each other since forever. It’d be like walking in on your brother.”

Beside you, Namjoon chuckles. “I don’t think Y/N would care. She’s seen his dick before.”

At this, Mei gasps. “What?! Wait, when? Why have I never heard of this before?”

Everybody stares at you in anticipation of the story.

It had been in highschool. You and Taehyung had worked as camp counsellors for a summer camp right before graduation. The two of you had become fast friends with the other staff, one of whom was Namjoon, and when camp ended, everybody had decided to go on a weekend cottage together. The night had been closing, and Taehyung had thought it to be funny to play a prank on one of the girls. While everyone was gathered in a circle in the living room to play games, he had snuck off into the other girl’s room. When least expected, he had jumped out of it wearing her pajama shorts. Everyone had burst out into laughter at the sight of his scrawny white legs and the extremely short loose bottoms. And forever the clown of the group, he had begun dancing in the middle of the group. Alas, he had failed to put into his calculations just how loose and how short the pants were, and in the middle of an exaggerated hip thrust into your face, his dong had flown out.

What ensued was a chorus of horror, more laughter from the boys and both your and the other girl’s flushed face. She had screamed at him and demanded why a) he had decided to wear her shorts and b) why he decided to do so without underwear.

In the past, retelling this story would also bring tons of laughter to the whatever group was hearing it. This time, as the images fly through your head like an old well-worn movie reel, you begin to cringe. You feel extremely scandalous and dirty for still remembering all the details of his pink flesh. Not only that, but you also begin to feel some sort of excitement at those details?

You open and close your mouth a few times while the group continues to wait for you to say something. Namjoon comes to your rescue.

“It was the summer before graduation. Mind you, the three of us hadn’t met yet, so you can imagine my surprise when this all happened. Anyways…” His voice trails off.

“I need some air,” you mutter to nobody in particular and excuse yourself. You stumble off the rock and begin trudging towards the direction of the pool.

The luminescent underwater lights draw you closer and closer to it until you find yourself waist deep in the water. Without the warmth of the sun, the water is much colder than you anticipate. Still, you go in deeper and eventually lie down on your back to stare into the night sky. In the distance, you hear the cued laughter at what you presume is the punchline of the story. If you strain your ears, you even hear the crackle of the fire as it burns the night away. Above, the stars twinkle happily in their spots on the galaxy. Your body feels light as you bob in solitude.

You sense his presence even before he speaks.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been able to look at stars like this,” he muses.

The water splashes as you right yourself in the pool. Taehyung is lying on the ground beside the pool with his hands folded behind his head. He had been only an arms length away from where you had been floating.

You blink.

After a moment of silence, he turns his head towards you. On his lips had danced his signature square smile, but now he has gnawed down on his bottom lip. It makes a miniscule sucking sound when he releases his bite to ask, “Y/N, is everything alright? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me today.”

There is nowhere left for you to run. Besides, you’re simply tired of running. Doing it for the entire day has sapped more of your energy than you’d like to admit.

“I’m fine,” you muster.

Another moment of silence. “I’m sorry about Dean.” He sees you staring at him. He sits up and then rubs his neck sheepishly. “Ugh, sorry. Namjoon told me. I tried not to say anything since you hadn’t spoken to me about it directly, but it sucks seeing you so down.”

He watches as you take a step towards him. Your eyes are slightly glassy, and his brows begin to furrow at the possibility that you could slip in your drunken state.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were alone. But I also wanted to check up on you. If you want to talk about it, I’m always here to listen.”

“Dean was an ass,” you finally say.

The sound that escapes from his is a mix between a sigh of relief and a light chuckle. “I didn’t want to say it, but your words; not mine.”

You have finally made it to where he is sitting. He helps you out of the pool and leads you to a lounge chair where the both of you take a seat beside each other. You shiver as your clothes cling heavily to your body. You had stripped off your swimming suit to let it dry in the sun, and while your t-shirt had been enough cover for the night, it does nothing to stop the icy chills that run up your back.

Taehyung removes the hoodie he is wearing and drapes it over your shoulders. He then puts an arm around you, pulling you close to him so that you could be warmed up by his body heat. He doesn’t even flinch as the water from your clothes seep into his and begin to drench his clothing as well.

The purpose of going into the pool had been to clear your mind. You had hoped the shock of the cold water would wash away the thoughts that bombarded your head at the campfire. Yet, when you saw him seated cross legged at the pool – his silhouette glowing in the bask of the moonlight; each tendril of his soft hair illuminated; his eyes watching you with such an intensity; the flex of his arms when he extended a hand to help you up and out. It had all been too much. Now even at his side, you begin to sweat as heat climbs from your toes and then proceeds to slither down into your abdomen. At this second, you are able to feel every muscle tense when he draws you closer to him still. You are able to feel the tickle of his breath behind your ear and all of it… every single aspect has you feeling like the giggling fourteen-year-old you crushing on your best friend.

“Breakups are always hard,” Taehyung is saying, “Especially when you don’t see them coming. Regardless of what Dean did, I’m sorry that this happened to the two of you. I’m sure you feel like shit, and honestly, I think it’s brave of you to come out today. I think I would have wanted to crawl under the covers of my bed instead.”

He hears you sigh from beneath him, and feels you snuggle closer.

To be truthful, he has done the same as you after each breakup. The two of you are practically twins in this aspect. He had pulled his friends out to the club or to some party, and gotten drunk out of his mind to forget about his ex. To nobody has he told that there has only ever been one instance he crawled under the covers of his bed. He had played it off as being sick back then, but if one were to inspect further that was also the day where you announced your relinquishment of the single status.

Seeing that you still remain silent, he continues to talk. “Someone better will come along. You’re smart – okay smart-ish,” at this he hears you give a soft laugh, “ambitious, a killer at Super Smash Bros, and can hold your own drinks for the most part.” He looks down and sees you peering at him from between your lashes. “You’re also down right gorgeous. The one who has you in their life is the luckiest and happiest man on earth.”

While he had been talking, he had begun to rub small circles with his thumb just above your deltoids. This is something he always does when he is reassuring you of something – whether that be that you didn’t bomb that test you took, that you’d find your first job eventually or as a simple gesture that he’s got your back. He puts his forehead against yours, a symbol of trust and friendship that has blossomed over the lifetime you have known each other.

“I love you, you know? Don’t ever forget that.”

It is in that instance that you know. You know that the feelings you had the first time you looked at him differently had never left you. You had tried so desperately to bury them with new boys, new distractions, honestly any new thing; all to pretend that they didn’t exist because it was true. The two of you are two ships.

However, this second realization is different. You also understand that at this moment, these two ships are passing, but have yet to pass by. In this vast sea, before the wind blows anyone further, someone must do something.

You kiss him.

It is soft at first, but then you press yourself into him further. You put one hand on his chest, and the other grips the hand he has placed on the seat between the two of you. He tastes exactly like how you have imaged: a little bit sweet, a little bit minty, and a whole lot of warm. His smell hugs you tighter than the hoodie you have on, and tighter than any of the other clothes you have borrowed and taken from his closet over the years. He is your definition of safety. And he feels so right beneath your fingers. The beating of his heart, and the flow of breathing both rhythms you have committed to memory through your childhood sleepovers and crashing of dorms during school all-nighters.

He doesn’t stop you when you swipe at his lips. They open naturally, letting you in. You feel his hand run from your shoulder down to the crook of your back where he applies a gentle pressure so that you are arched even closer to him. You feel the vibrations of his little hums when you run your fingers down his torso to cling onto his broad back. Your breathing hitches when he nips at your bottom lip. And you nearly mewl in disapproval when he breaks the contact first.

The kiss had started off soft, and you thought it had been brief, but when you look at his face, it is flushed a dark deep red, and his lips are swollen.

You slightly crook your head to the side in confusion.

“You just broke up,” he explains for the both of you, “I don’t want us to start like this.”

“Us?” you repeat. Your throat is dry even though the two of you had swapped saliva mere moments ago.

“I mean – ” He takes a breath and scoots himself away from you. The distance is not enough for him to cool down, and so he stands up. For fuck’s sake; you are staring wide-eyed at him with your arms in front on the chair, pressing your breasts together which the damp material is doing nothing but accentuate each curvature. Your lips slightly parted, he can still hear the moans that you unknowingly had elicited in that kiss. He takes another step back; if he hadn’t stopped that…

“You mean what, Tae?” you whisper.

His hoodie slips from one of your shoulders and in the moonlight above you, he spies your nipples yearning against the cloth over your chest both from the lack his heat and the stimulation of his touch. He turns his back towards you and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Let me take you on a date first. It’s the gentleman thing to do.” His voice sounds distanced.

You adjust his hoodie back around you when the night sends a breeze through the trees in which you are under. Perhaps it is the alcohol or the after effects of your kiss, but you agree. He does not say much else besides zipping the hoodie up to your chin. He then leads you back to the campfire where the rest of the gang is now debated whether a hamburger is a sandwich.

Nobody makes a comment at your wet dog state, and nobody seems none the wiser when this time, Taehyung chooses a seat as far away from you as possible.

The game of cat and mouse continues long after that night. Yes, you had promised him that you would go on a date with him, but after much thinking, pondering, self-debating and flip-flopping, you decide that you just cannot.

Taehyung is not just some acquaintance you knew from life. This is the guy whom you’ve snuck out at night with to rant about parents, shared your first alcoholic drink, skipped classes to watch a movie, and even cried to after you gave up your virginity. To suddenly need to go through the motions of preparing for a date; to look at him differently and romantically… all of it is way too awkward for you.

That night truly had been a blur. You have vague images of fire and night-time swimming. And you had even thought that perhaps you had dreamt of that kiss. But when he texts you a date and time, you begin to panic and before you can stop yourself, you have given him some excuse of not being able to make it.

“So, what’s the deal between the two of you?”

You look up from your phone. You had been reading and re-reading the text you received about a rain check from him two days ago; still trying to hash out what to do for your response. Your lunch is forgotten beside you, and you notice that most of the lunch room has been cleared out as your coworkers straggle back into the office.

“Huh?”

Kira sits down beside you and cracks open her cafeteria soup and bagel. She spreads some cream cheese over it and then takes a bite. Propping her chin against one hand while she eats, she gestures to you and your phone.

“You and Taehyung. Something’s going on.”

You quickly stuff your phone into your pocket and resume eating your chicken pot pie. It is cold and too salty for your taste, and you end up picking at it with your fork.

“No. Nothing’s going on.”

She tuts her tongue. “Nuh-uh. You guys have been weird all week. When you receive a text from him, you always drop whatever you’re working on to reply. I’ve seen you ignore your phone twice today, and you keep staring at your screen without actually picking it up. Not to mention, he called me at work today.”

Hearing this from her, you pale. “Wait, he did? What did he want?”

“You. He asked if you were at work. He said you haven’t been responding to his messages, and he wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You put your fork down and sip at your smoothie instead. Even your favourite Choco-Monkey tastes bland and grainy against your tongue. You sigh.

“Something happened that night at Tae’s. You haven’t been the same since.”

“I told you, it’s nothing. I’ve just been busy with a few things.”

“Uh huh. Like what? You space out in front of your computer all day.”

You throw her a glare, to which she ignores and continues eating her bagel. She takes a few large gulps of her coffee.

“I’m serious. The two of you don’t go a day – no, not even. Like a minute without chatting to each other. This is way out of the ordinary. Is this about Dean? I know we all hadn’t exactly been subtle about our dislike about him, but you’re honestly so much better without him,” she says.

I kissed my best friend. And he didn’t reject me. Because I overheard that he’s had a crush on me since we were kids and surprise, I sort of found out that my crush on him never went away either. And now he wants to go on a date, but I’m freaking out over that because it’s weird. Sure, we’ve gone out to movies and dinner before between the both of us, but that was before I found out that he likes me. As more than a friend. And that as of recent, whenever I think about the fact that he likes me more than a friend my mouth gets dry, my hands get sweaty and I feel like I’m going to pass out because I can’t think straight. So y’know.

“Y/N?”

You had been gnawing on your smoothie straw so hard that it had been beaten to a crumpled pulp. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now,” you mumble into your drink along with another sigh.

She sighs with you. After watching you a while longer, she straightens her back and regards you solemnly.

“Well, I wanted to come out to tell you that Hoseok is having a barbeque at his place this weekend and you’re invited.”

“And here I thought you were so kindly checking up on a friend,” you give a snarky jab.

Kira gives you a smile. “Yes. But also, it’ll be potluck style. So you can text me what you’re planning to bring and I’ll forward it to him.”

You nod. “The two of you seem to be hitting it off,” you comment.

This makes her smile even more. She grins enthusiastically. “Yeah. It’s nice seeing a guy who you know first as a friend. Gets past that awkward first-meet phase and goes straight into comfortable dating, if that makes sense.”

You murmur something that she does not quite catch.

“Anyways, the whole gang has already RSVP-ed. Can I put you down as going as well?” she asks.

“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you tell her.

She crumples her bagel wrapper and tosses into the trashcan to the side. With a final warm hand on yours, she says her goodbye. You pick at your lunch for a little while and then with your own final sigh, you toss it all into the garbage to return to another hour of staring at your computer screen at your desk.

“Dude, you have to stop pacing. You’re beginning to make me anxious.”

Taehyung stops moving. He glances at Namjoon who is manning the grill in the backyard of Hoseok’s house. The host is sitting under the umbrella with his girlfriend, chatting with his guests and keeping them busy. Namjoon doesn’t mind doing the cooking, and he had dragged Taehyung over with him. He had hoped that by keeping Taehyung’s hands busy, he would stop picking at his lips and playing with the cups.

“She hasn’t responded to me all week,” Taehyung says. He is no longer walking back and forth, but his foot taps rapidly against the stone-placed ground in Hoseok’s new garden walkway.

“Maybe she was busy,” Namjoon offers kindly. He flips a few of the chicken wings, and then closes the grill for the time-being. Turning back to Taehyung, he offers him a beer.

Taehyung takes it, grateful that he had decided to tell Namjoon of the night. Well some of it. He had left out the kiss and focused more on the whole confession aspect.

“I’m serious. Calm down. Hoseok said she’s coming today, so I’m sure you two will have a chance to talk it out,” Namjoon says.

Taehyung scratches his forehead in frustration. He had tried so hard to reach out to you, but each time you had given him a different reason for the two of you not to meet. Initially, he thought that perhaps you had been intimidated by his suggestions of going to a fancy restaurant and it all being too formal. He had then asked if you wanted to simply get coffee, go to the arcade or even a movie night-in with your favourite fast foods. All of it had been rejected by a simple, “Sorry I can’t. Busy.”

He groans in defeat. “I shouldn’t have said anything to her. I should’ve left her alone and I shouldn’t of had ki-” He cuts himself short.

Namjoon raises at eyebrow.

“Nevermind. That whole night was a giant mistake.”

Namjoon shrugs. He begins to turn back to the grill when the group makes a loud hooray at their new party member.

“Three layered dip!” you announce your offering first before making your rounds in hugging your friends.

“Ugh, fuck yes. This is the reason I come to these parties,” Mei says from her seat. She immediately reaches over to grab a handful of chips, but not before she earns a playful swat from Yoongi.

“Take a seat! Do you want anything? We’ve got wine, beer, coolers, something harder if you want,” Hoseok tells her. He has one arm wrapped around Kira who sits on his lap.

You place your belongings down on a chair, and crack open a can. There is nothing better in the summer than an evening out with all your friends, enjoying a nice beverage and pigging out to smoked barbeque meats.

“Food’s here!” Namjoon says loudly. He comes to the table with two large plates laden with food. The whole table cheers as he sets them down before them.

Looking beyond where he stands, proudly with his hands on his waist, you spy somebody whom you’ve been so desperately avoiding.

“Hello Y/N,” he greets.

“Hello Taehyung,” you respond.

The two of you awkwardly meet, eyes lingering a small moment longer than they usually do on the other. He opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first.

“I’m going to get..more..utensils?!” you tell them. Blundering around the crowded chairs and bodies eagerly reaching for their dinner, you stumble into Hoseok’s house. You don’t even know where the kitchen is, and you find yourself staring down a hall.

You hear someone call your name from behind you.

Needing to quickly find some other place to stand, you take a few steps to your left and come face to face with an empty nook.

“Who the fuck places a dead-end in a house?” you mutter to yourself under your breath.

“Y/N!”

You swear again silently before turning.

“Hey…you.”

Taehyung stands before you, a little breathless after running into the house to follow. His skin is sporting a glowing tan from his hours outside, and you’ve begun to see his efforts in preparing for that marathon with Namjoon. His arms are rippling in the sleeveless shirt he has sported today, and he has a casual cap slung backwards on his head.

You take a step back, but you are immediately hit by the wall. Feeling the annoying telltale signs of your body reacting to the sight of him, you also experience a painful flip in the center of your chest. You grasp futilely in the air behind you and wish desperately that Hoseok had perhaps installed a magical rotating door for you to slip behind right now.

He puts one foot forward. It takes all of his self-control to not rush towards you. He hadn’t known how much he missed you until he caught scent of your vanilla body lotion. He had even played it off as cool as he could by lingering behind the protection of Namjoon. Yet knots in his stomach had only twisted more after the uncomfortable greeting he had given you. You are dressed in a simple cropped tee today, and your hair has been slung into an effortless ponytail. Your makeup is only some mascara, but to him, you look like a beautiful sun goddess. He is aching to feel you in his arms after such a long time of no contact from you.

“I think this is the longest we’ve not talked to each other since that one summer you did an exchange in Alaska and got shitty wifi,” he says to open the conversation.

You had never noticed how he stands at the perfect height above you. If you were to wrap your arms around him, you know exactly where on his chest you’d land, and how it’d feel when he puts his chin on the top of your head. You can envision his voice as he whispers words into your hair and the sensation of his fingers as they massage the base of your neck where he knows you most like it.

“This is so unfair,” you say. Your breathing comes out as shallow quick pants. A shiver starts from behind your neck when you watch as he takes another two steps to you.

“What’s unfair?”

He blurs for a moment, and you hate how adorable you find him when he cocks his head slightly to the side. A tiny curl slips out from beneath his cap and flops boyishly in front of his eye. You resist the temptation with all your being to help him when he stares up cross-eyed at the loose tendril and fails to blow it away with a small pout of his bottom lip.

“All of this!” You throw your arms in the air defeated when at last he rams you with a final attack of that cocky raise of his eyebrow. “I thought I put it all behind me, you know? I mean, you knew exactly how much I hated Valentine’s but without fail, I’d always gift you something. You’d think that’d be a big enough hint, but nope. You got me the same generic chocolates that you probably gifted every other girl.”

“Okay, hold up.” By now, he has reached you. “Did you think I just bought those chocolates?”

“Yes. They came in a no name box, and they’d always be cracked and broken. Knowing you, you probably picked them up from a drugstore on the way to school.”

He laughs. “No. They were no name, cracked and broken because I handmade them. And of course I knew why you’d given me chocolate. I just thought you were pranking me, because you’d always tease me about how packed my locker would get with secret admirers.”

“I teased you because it was true. You’d think you were starring in flipping Boys Over Flowers with the amount of shit you got on February 14th. Then you’d parade it around all nonchalant like, ‘Oh! Look at me! I’m Kim Taehyung, and I’ve got all these girls wrapped around my pinky! No, what? I didn’t know at all that they’d be giving me things!’”

“I never paraded anything. And besides, how is it my fault if I get stuff during Valentine’s?”

“It just is, okay?”

“Whatever! I thought you came in to get utensils or whatever. Why are you standing in the middle of a hallway anyways?”

“Because I just like to, okay?”

He gives an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “For the record, it’s not like I didn’t give you hints as well. You were also the only person I ever gave chocolates to on Valentine’s Day. And don’t forget: I told you the whole story about how I wanted to confess my feelings to somebody but they seemed oblivious and your suggestion was maybe they don’t like you back!”

You stomp your feet in frustration. “You gave a codename to this person. How in the world was I supposed to know who Slinky was?”

“You’re Slinky, you idiot dipshit!”

“Why the fuck am I Slinky?!”

“Because that’s how we started talking! You shared with me the slinky your mom bought you on the first day of school.”

“I can barely remember what I ate for breakfast, and you expected me to remember something that happened when I was six?!”

“Well I did!” He says it with such finality that you cannot help yourself but lean slightly back.

“Honestly, this would have never happened if you hadn’t spouted all your nonsense about two ships and them passing by and never having the chance to confess your feelings and all that bullshit you and Namjoon were talking about.” You cross your arms and glare at him.

He holds his breath when you say that.

Both your faces are red in the yelling match that had ensued. Neither of you had raised your voice above a hushed scream, so as not to draw attention, but nevertheless, you are both panting as emotions are threatening to bubble over your pots.

“You heard that? When did you…?”

You mirror his habit of annoyance by tugging at your ponytail and raking your fingers through it.

“Your party. At the pool. I came to find you and I overheard the two of you talking.”

He unconsciously follows your actions with the same one, his long fingers going to connect with his hair until he remembers that he wears a cap. He exhales sharply instead, his eyes never leaving your face. “You weren’t meant to hear that,” he says quietly.

“Well I did. And since then, I’ve felt like I’ve been dropped in a pool of quicksand. I can’t even breathe around you without feeling like I’m being swallowed up by my feelings,” you confess to him. “It’s suffocating. You’re the one I’ve always talked to about stuff like this, but I can’t right now because you’re the reason for everything. I mean, what if something happens? I can’t afford to risk the entirety of our friendship for something so stupid.”

“Me loving you is not stupid.”

“I never said it was stupid. I meant – wait, what did you say?” You stare at him, your mouth agape.

“I love you.”

Once again, you try and swallow, but it is like you have trekked three days through the Sahara Desert. His words from that time ring in your ears:

Even if I can’t say I love you as her lover, I’m simply happy being able to say I love you as her friend.

You press yourself as far as you can against the wall, your palms turning white at the pressure. Your knees feel like they are about to give, and true enough, they wobble as you slightly sink down the wall. Your vision swarms as you try and intake that man who stands before you.

“Fuck you, Kim Taehyung,” you breathe.

He reaches out, and puts one hand on your shoulder. He feels you steadying yourself against him and after a second, your arms have found themselves around the back of his neck.

“Yeah… Fuck me, I guess.”

This is the last thing you hear before you are tugged into a passionate kiss from him. Your hands become entangled in his hair, as you pull him closer to you. Each kiss stops your breath, and the two of you are pressed so tightly together that not even a gust of wind could slip through.

You hear in the distance the loud moan when he finally pries your mouth open with his tongue. You suck loudly on his lips, and then allow him to pepper your neck sloppily down the side. When you guide his face against yours, it is a harsh turn as you find yourself desperately needing every inch of him on you.

He palms your ass, gripping your thigh with the other. They then roam upwards, squeezing your breasts from the outside and finding your nipple through the thin bralette you had worn with the dress.

He shudders when you run your hands between his legs and cup his erection along the entire length.

Your eyelids flutter open in their lust and meet the same carnal desire in his. He smooths your bangs away from your forehead as they have become slick with sweat in the non-air conditioned house. He bends down towards you, suckling the area above your collarbone and leaving what you know will be a harsh love mark against your naturally pale skin.

“Tae,” you squeak, the sound barely making it past your constricted throat in its rapid panting.

“I know. I know,” his response is nearly if not breathier than yours.

He takes your hand in his and guides you to the closest room, a bathroom that is only a turn from the corner. The two of you stumble inside, still interlocked in your kiss, and you nudge the door close with your butt. You feel him reach behind you and then you hear the click of the lock.

“Are you sure?” you ask him. Your mind is still whirling and failing miserably at trying to comprehend the events that have transpired.

“I’ve never been more sure,” he says. He swallows visibly and this bob of his throat threatens to throw you off the edge.

God, you had been so naïve to ignore this sexy sculpture for all these years?

You tug at your underwear and let it fall onto the tiled floor. You take a step towards him, and begin to work at the buttons of his shorts.

He pushes you away slightly and shakes his head. “I want it all off,” he demands.

Your motions are deft as you haul the dress over your head. With one hand you unclasp your bralette and watch with a dangerously growing desire as he shimmies out of his tank top and then finally frees his cock from within the hold of his pants.

You make a sharp hiss when you see it. It strains towards you, veiny red and much larger than you remember it to be. The only thing that stops you from running your tongue over it, and finally getting to taste what you had imagined for all these years, is what he says after scanning his eyes over your body.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

With your hands on his chest, you make him take steps backwards until he sits down on the toilet cover. He spreads his legs, uncomfortably shifting as his penis pulses with each motion you take. You take him in your hands first, and you run your thumb around its rim. Another stream of profanities come from his pretty lips while you trace each vein on the underside.

“Tell me how much you want my cunt,” you say to him. Each word is punctuated with a squeeze and a gentle tug.

There are tears in his eyes when he is able to get a word out. His tip is wet and pre-cum leaks out. You spread that along his girth, and then lick your fingers as you stand before him.

His groan is so loud, you can feel the vibrations of it to your core. “Baby, don’t do this to me. I’ve been wanting you since the day you kissed me at the pool. Every night, I’ve touched myself with only the thought of you.”

You perch above him, guiding his length against your folds. Your entire body tremors violently when he hits your clit, and you need to bite your tongue hard to not take him then and there.

“What were you thinking of? Be a good boy and whisper all your naughty secrets to me now.”

“I dreamt of fucking you and feeling your tight pussy around my cock. I want to see your neck when you throw back your head and I want to hear you scream my name. Then I want to taste you on my tongue and eat you until your throat is hoarse from chanting my name and you’ve released yourself over all of me.”

Your chest is heaving, and you don’t know how you’ve managed to be as calm as you’ve been. As he was speaking, you continue to roll your wrist up and down until he is straining in your grasp. While he describes his fantasies, you first guide him such that only his tip has entered in you. But the more he talks, the more you sink until you are in his lap and he has stretched and filled you completely.

You kiss him again. He bucks against your hips, but you hold him down solidly. Instead, you take his hands and guide them to your breasts where he begins to play and tug at them. When your nipples are erect, he lifts them to his lips and suckles. You feel his teeth bite gently around them, and your body is electrified with the sensations of pleasure.

He pushes upwards against you when he peeks up to see your head thrown back, and your jaw slack. Your face is flushed, and your eyes squeezed shut.

“Come on. Enough teasing,” he growls.

The glare that you return sets his heart racing again. You begin to raise and lower yourself on him. There is not much to brace yourself against besides his shoulders and the edge of the washbasin to your side. This is what you use to give leverage as you roll your hips and ride him. You follow his eyes as they watch your breasts bounce, and with each movement, you can see that he becomes closer and closer to his release.

He slides easily in you, and the satisfaction of knowing how much you are satisfying him also pushes you closer to your cliff. You press yourself off from him and kneel onto the ground. His hand rushes to hold your loosened hair away from your face so that he can watch as he enters in and out of your mouth. He can barely fit and within seconds, your jaws begin to ache at this unfamiliar degree of stretch.

“Taehyung,” you manage to say through your bursting mouth. You repeat his name like a as often as you can, allowing him to experience each and every syllable like a prayer.

The vibrations from your throat lead him to grab another fistful of your hair to hold you in place. His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag at the harsh thrust, but swallow the urge away nonetheless.

Your desire to feel him inside you builds like an incoming tsunami of lava. You take a seat on him again and let him watch as you bounce up and down to relieve some of that tension. His hands are secure on your ass while he helps with the motion, bucking his hips to your rhythm.

You raise one leg and push it off the wall, offering a new angle to which he can enter you from. This slight lift away from him offers a view he hadn’t known he had needed and it is the cause for him to lift you up and down his length even faster.

“You are so wet from me,” he moans, “And so tight. I had always imagined your pussy to feel good around me, but fuck, I didn’t think you’d look this good around it.”

The orgasm throws your body into an arch as it hits you out of nowhere and without your knowing. He feels your walls clench and relax around him. When he gets you to stand over the washbasin, your thighs are slick with your own juice and the lewd sounds that your bodies begin to make as he enters you from behind are nearly enough for him to come for you on the spot.

His fingers make quick work for the both of you. Pressing his thumb against your clit, the other hand holding your hips in place, he draws figure-eights on your already stimulated bud while he pounds you on the spot. The prickling sensation of this overstimulation is masked by the waves of white from your second orgasm as it hits as intensely as the first the moment that he releases himself inside you. You begin to collapse against the sink when he catches you in his arms. The two of you sit on the ground, voiceless and hazy eyed. Your thighs make a squelch when they hit the tiles, and you both stare at the white that had coated and run down the length of your legs.

Wordlessly, he tears a few pieces of tissue paper from beside the toilet and hands them to you. You take it with silent gratitude and wipe yourself clean. A minute passes, but even then, you know your legs at this moment are unable to hold yourself up.

“Perhaps we should’ve used some type of protection,” you say. Your head is resting against the cupboard below the sink. Both your clothes are discarded to the side, but neither of you have the energy to get dressed at the moment.

You feel him take your head and rest it on his shoulder. You draw your knees up closer and let him cuddle you as the two of you remain seated on the floor. You hear the familiar rhythmic beating of his heart, and for a moment – just a brief moment – you feel the fear that your rash actions are about to change this relationship forever.

He presses his lips on the top of your head, while he begins to rub circles on your arm. The words tickle your scalp as he speaks, “You had a new inserted IUD last month, remember?”

And it is as simple as that. Suddenly, that trepidation you had felt is gone. After all, this is not some stranger in whom you’d have to gamble your heart away on. This is your best friend; the person who has stood beside you at your happiest while walking with you through your saddest. He is the one who knows you better than you know yourself at times. He is the someone whom you could depend on to remind you of appointments, call up at 4am to go for a drive or lecture you about the importance of brushing versus also flossing.

You tilt your head and look up at him. He is tenderly smiling down at you when you ask him your question.

“Could you say it again? That stupid thing?”

“I thought you said it wasn’t stupid.”

You kiss his chin, and he reciprocates with a peck on your nose.

“I love you, you idiot dipshit.”

You close your eyes, inhaling his scent and his entire being; committing it to memory and holding onto it with no intention of letting any of it go.

“So, what’s going to happen now?” you ask him, handing an article of his clothing. “Do we have to go out and announce that we’re going to be dating?”

He chuckles, the corners of his eyes squinting. With a lick of his lips, he turns you around and helps you re-buckle your bralette. “No, nothing has to change. Besides, you’ve still yet to let me take you out on that date. And if you want after, we can decide to make it official.”

There is a little bit of scrambling and laughter to get you on your feet, but soon after, the both of you are dressed again. You help comb his hair back under the cap after tightening your ponytail in the mirror. And you cannot stop yourself from giving him a little smooch on the top of his cute cupid’s bow before reaching for the doorknob.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you back into him. He wants to savour these sweet final moments alone with you before needing to go back out and share with the rest of the group.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” he asks.

His breath is warm as it brushes over the skin exposed above your chest from the cut of your dress. For a moment, you are tempted with the thought of staying with him in this bathroom for a little while longer. But then, you catch the small whine underlying the question. You turn and give him a wink. You’re positive that the others have noted both of your prolonged absences, but that is the least of your concerns. You are simply content in staring at Taehyung and basking in the knowledge that at last, you are finally able to return the words you have heard so often over the years.

“I love you too, Kim Taehyung.”

#wow what is this not only did i write something this weekend but i actually finished it?#i guess this is the result of having the place to myself since the bf is away for business until tomorrow #bts #taehyung #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts x reader #taehyung x reader #bts scenario #taehyung scenario #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #jimin

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1kook · 4 years

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

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alaskasmonsters · 4 years

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Chapped lips | Shigaraki Tomura

after that night, the night he'd first reached out for your hand, you and shigaraki had gotten a lot closer, even if that only meant you were holding hands a lot. or did it?

part 1

pairing: shigaraki tomura x gn!reader

w.c: 2.651

warnings: head empty just tooth-rotting fluff, also shigs being insecure about his skin, he’s still touch-starved :c

a.n: @hufflefluffslytherin asked for a part two and i really really really adore touch-starved shigaraki (and writing him) so i just had to comply!🥰🥰 (also if you’ve never seen fanart of shigaraki with his hair tied back i am so sorry, but you’ve been deprived)

Holding hands had become somehow normal between Tomura and you, although it usually ended up being in the privacy of his room. If Kurogiri noticed how close you’d gotten after he sent you to his room that one time he didn’t mention it. He’d only smile gently at you when you caught his...floating orbs. You weren’t sure if you could call it a smile when the guy didn’t have a mouth, or eyes….or a face. It was more like a vibe that you got from him.

The rest of the league had noticed the two of you had gotten closer, too. They were not stupid, after all. Well, they were all idiots, but they were smart idiots. You’d spent a lot more time at their lair now in consequence of you spending more time with Tomura. And of course every one of them had to give their two cents to the situation.

Toga would beam at you, teeth flashing and eyes sparkling with excitement, whenever the both of you were in the same room. When Tomura wasn’t present the girl would dreamily stare into the air, planning your wedding in detail. It was cute, almost endearing, if it wasn’t so embarrassing. You’d turn red as a beat and Toga would giggle at your flustered state.

Dabi turned to relentless teasing, constantly making jokes, some of which were so beyond inappropriate you’d loved to wash his mouth and your memory out with soap.

Compress was surprisingly soft on you, never once mentioning the new undetermined relationship between you and the boss, although you were certain he sent you winks from beneath that mask of his.

Spinner was being a little shit like always.

Tomura and you had grown closer in the process of your occurring hand holding sessions. Often you just sat next to him on the bed (yes, you’d gotten the privilege of being allowed on there), you would scroll through your various social media while Tomura explored the skin of your arms and your hands with his fingers.

You would have never expected he could be so...soft...quiet...calm...innocent. Just silently sitting next to you, staring at the ceiling or somewhere else (anything but you) while he let his fingers gently glide over your hands until you’d end up with your fingers intertwined.

He didn’t like talking a lot, you realized. Still private, still unrelentless.

It had taken weeks between then and now before you’d even gotten to this point. A point where Tomura felt comfortable enough to request your touch whenever he felt like it. Sometimes he just sent you the blank faced cat emoji and you knew that your presence was requested. You didn’t comment on it, just silently complied, sitting next to him in silence until he initiated the contact.

You knew he was still in disbelief about your nonchalance whenever he did reach out to touch you. He always did it so carefully, barely gracing your skin. As if he wanted to leave you enough time to react and pull back.

It was endearing.

Sometimes he tested you, brushing his fingers over parts of your upper arms, shoulder, leg, stomach, watching you out of calculating eyes, expecting, awaiting you to flinch back. You never did. Like you said, you didn't have it in you to mistrust Shigaraki in that way. All remaining resolve had crumbled the moment he’d first reached out for your hand.

When you knocked on his door that night, you were already buzzing with excitement, clenching the little item in your palms, something you’d brought for Tomura. You didn’t wait for his answer, already opening the door and slipping a moment later since he had sent the cat emoji earlier.

Tomura was sitting on his bed, game controller in his hand, the screen of his tv showing a shooter game was the only light that illuminated the room.

You had quickly realized Tomura enjoyed quiet and dark places.

He didn't look up, just glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, as you approached him and sat down next to him, already smiling. The item you brought was securely hidden in your palms.

The man hummed in greeting, scooting closer until your legs were touching slightly, barely brushing.

That was another thing you had noticed about him. Tomura wasn’t only enamored by holding your hand, but he craved the simplest of touches. It didn’t come as a surprise to you, considering most of his life everyone had been avoidant of him. You had figured he must be incredibly touch-starved, searching your warmth now that you’d willingly given it to him already, taking whatever he’d get.

It was cute.

You watched him play for a little while, supporting your weight on your hands as you leaned back onto your palms. But quickly your attention shifted, your eyes settling on the side of Shigafaki’s face. Eyes wandering from the scars around his eyes, to his dry lips and then to the sensitive skin on his neck...you could imagine it must hurt a lot.

You were a little familiar with impulsive behaviour like that, you’d bitten your fingernails for years, picked at the skin around them, too. It was a bad habit, one fueled by stress. Something you sometimes went back to whenever it would get too much. But you knew that was hardly comparable.

“Why are you staring at me?”

You were pulled from your thoughts by his hoarse voice, soft despite the scratchiness of it. You didn’t reply immediately, watching the ways the shadows danced across his features.

“Does it hurt?”

You didn’t have to point out what exactly you meant, he understood immediately.

“I’m used to it,” his answer was curt and you noticed how he lowered his head to let more of his hair fall into his face.

You hummed, not mentioned how tragic that truly was or how badly you wanted to hug him. He probably didn’t want your sympathy, perhaps even mistake it for pity.

You sat up instead, smiling widely in hope to ease the sullen mood as you raised your hand to finally uncover what you’ve been hiding all along.

“I’ve brought something,” you declared proudly.

Tomura glanced at the little item you held up to his face, eyes narrowing to read the name of the product. When he recognized what it was, he glanced up at your face, eyebrows furrowed in scepticism.

“Don’t tell me you want me to put that on my face.”

You laughed at the look of disgust in his eyes.

“It’s just ointment, don’t be so dramatic.”

He didn’t seem all too convinced by your words, face settled into a scowl.

“It’s really good, if you want to know my expert opinion,” you ignored the amused snort, “It’s moisturizing and helps with itches as well.”

He glanced at the object again, not very enthusiastic about the idea of it, you noticed, his face still purposefully lowered, his red eyes peeking out from beneath his white strands.

You cocked your head to the side.

“I could heal some of it, too, if it bothers you,” you suggested, although you knew you could really only do something against the recently damaged skin, nothing against the several small scars collected at the corner of his eyes or the base of his neck.

“Why, does it bother you?” he murmured, a sudden edge to his voice.

The grip around the game controller had tightened, although his pinkies were still skillfully spread to avoid disintegrating the piece of plastic.

“No,” you replied sternly.

Tomura hesitated for a moment, eyes darting between the tub of ointment and your face a few times before he made a choice. He paused the game and carefully placed the controller on the nightstand.

“Fine,” he mumbled, head angles towards you, “You can put that shit on me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, itching to ask him to repeat himself, because you weren’t sure if you understood him correctly, if he really just agreed you could put ointment on his face. You. Not him, you.

But then he turned, until he was facing you completely, his legs crossed, knees bumping against the side of your legs and he watched you expectantly. You turned, too, positioning yourself so you were cross-legged as well and directly in front of him, trying to ignore the tingling in your stomach at being so intensely stared at by Tomura. You inched closer, bumping your knees more and the man leaned forward, almost expectantly, awaiting.

You stopped him with a raise of your hand and Tomura halted in his movements, squinting at the small object that you were now holding into his face. His forehead scrunched up at the sight of the hair tie in between your fingers and he gave you a sceptical look.

“Tie your hair back, Tomura.”

He grumbled, but complied to your request, lazily binding his hair together. A few strands fell out and back into his face and you softly pushed them behind his ears, not commenting on the way Tomura stilled at your touch.

Opening the tub of ointment, you put some of the substance on your fingers, glancing up at the man in front of you for approval. He was already looking at you with awaiting eyes.

Okay, if he didn’t make it weird you shouldn’t make it weird either.

You reached out to hold his face in place, cupping his left cheek gently. Tomura closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into your hand a little. You smiled slightly, raising your fingers with the ointment to the area around his eyes and started to carefully apply it to the skin.

The skin was rough under the pads of your fingers as you moved them over his face. He let you work in silence, the only sounds coming from him was the occasional hum whenever the cool ointment touched a specific sensitive area.

You moved on to the other side quickly, switching hands to apply the ointment with your left hand and hold Shigaraki’s face with your right, instead, to accommodate.

“Do you feel a difference?”, you asked softly, massaging the substance into his cheek.

He hummed.

“It’s nice.”

You smiled softly.

“Is it itching?”

He shook his head.

You moved on to his neck, occasionally glancing up at his face. It was relaxed, his eyes still closed, the corners of his lips slack. You smiled at the smoothened out features, your eyes getting stuck on the way down until you were staring at his lips. Dry and chapped but still kissable.

You froze in your movements.

Hold on, what.

Tomura had noticed you had stopped moving and cracked his eyes open, watching the expression on your face with interest.

“Why are you staring at me?”

You shook your head, desperately fighting the blush on your cheeks.

“Just thought you might wanna put lip balm on as well,” you replied calmly.

Good save.

The man scrunched up his face.

“You’ve brought that, too?”

You shrugged, spreading the last bit of ointment across his neck before you pulled back, massaging the leftovers of the substance into your hands.

“Well, i’ve got some with me,” you suggested, pulling it out of the back pocket of your pants.

Shigaraki eyed it suspiciously, raising his hand towards his neck before he halted in his movement, as he remembered your treatment, before he let it sink back into his lap.

“Don’t look so sceptical. It’s just a chapstick,” you laughed at the way he scrunched up his face in disgust.

To demonstrate you opened up the cap and rolled it up. Lifting it up to emphasize the plainness of your action before putting the lip balm on your lips. Smacking them together when you were done, presenting them with a grin.

Tomura looked thoughtful before he suddenly started smirking, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he gave a nod of approval. You frowned in confusion but didn’t get the chance to ask him what he was being so cocky about before he suddenly leaned in and caught your lips gently between his.

Despite the tenderness behind his touch you felt like the air was just punched out of your lungs. You were completely frozen against him, not moving, not knowing how to move. The line connecting your brains and limbs, the one that was supposed to exchange signals had been cut off the second Tomura’s mouth had touched yours. The man’s lips moved against yours just before he pulled back again.

You blinked up at him, mouth agape in shock as a warmth, a burning heat, spread through your skin, your face turning red.

He watched you in amusement before he smacked his lips together, loudly, a wide grin spreading over his features when he saw your eyes widen in shock.

“Like this?” he asked innocently.

You choked on your spit at the boldness of...literally everything.

“You! I...” you stuttered helplessly.

He chuckled slightly, strands of his bangs falling back into his eyes, which made him look even better than before. You huffed in mock offence.

“I can’t believe you, Tomura,” you grumbled, playfully hitting his knee as you tried to calm down your fluttering heartbeat.

The man just cocked his head at you, calculating eyes trained on your features. His stare was so intense you felt your face heat up again, just as you had started to calm down again.

He chuckled slightly, slowly leaning forward again, which led you to stop breathing for a second or two...or longer. He came to a halt right before your lips would have touched again, innocently glancing up at you through his lashes.

“Why? Do you want to kiss me?” His voice was deep and alluring.

You didn’t answer, the words got caught in your throat, the trust in your own voice vanished.

How could he turn from an innocent touch-starved gamer boy into this in a matter of seconds? It didn’t seem very fair to you. Especially when you were the one on the receiving end of this behaviour. Worse of all, Tomura seemed to enjoy your sudden speechlessness greatly, eyes drilling into yours as he inched even closer, the look in his eyes dared you to make a move.

He was close enough so you could feel his hot breath on your lips, so close the fruity smell of the ointment (you’d chosen a peach scent) assaulted your nose. All you could think was “Fuck it.” and throw caution out of the window.

You closed the remaining distance, planting your mouth on his and gained a satisfied hum in response. You smiled at the reaction, grabbing his face and pulling him more into you.

Tomura gave into your touch with ease, leaning in even more, searching your touch. He held your wrist, his pinky spread.

His lips were chapped and felt rough against yours, but you didn’t mind, not even a little bit. The kiss was heated, both of you getting more passionate as you deepened the kiss, the feeling indescribable. Your whole skin was tingling, your brain surely turned into mush.

Tomura wasn’t allowed to be this good at kissing, you thought. Did he kiss someone before or was this his first kiss? It couldn’t be...or?

The two of you parted when you ran out of air, both of you breathing heavily into the small space you’ve left between you. Tomura squeezed your wrist and chuckled breathlessly, shaking his head in disbelief as he stared you down. His eyes were sparkling with an emotion you couldn’t quite pin down but knew enough about for you to feel a little dizzy being looked at with.

“You really are crazy, you know that,” he whispered, a tone close to astonishment in his voice.

You just smiled, thumb brushing over the warm skin of his cheek.

Crazy for you, Tomura.

Taglist: @crystal-lilac @hufflefluffslytherin @duf3h6237 @chucky-26o1

#bnha #mha #bnha oneshots #mha oneshot #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki oneshot #shigaraki tomura oneshot #shigaraki #shigaraki fluff #bnha fluff #mha fluff #shigaraki tomura fluff

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paceypeternathanslawyer · 2 years

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Here I go again, going on my soap box about a show that ended decades ago and has almost no tumblr fandom presence. I just hope that at least one person will see this and get a catharsis because it sure is a catharsis to write it. Today I feel compelled to get my feelings about Myra Monkhouse in Family Matters out. I feel like I see way too many people say that they find her relatable and say stuff like "Myra is so me!" I really need people to strive for better. Do not strive to be that crazy fucking psycho. Strive to be a Laura. I've also seen a few people assert that Laura is the toxic one in the Laura/Steve/Myra triangle which is patently false. Most of the time Laura just minded her own business and didn't have romantic feelings for Steve, and Myra went haywire on her for even looking at Steve. And then you have the people who claim that they only made Myra crazy in S9 which this is the assertion I would really like to hone into today. Myra was always crazy. Sometimes early on she was straight up crazy but the red flags were ALWAYS there.

🚩 #1 The fact that Myra agreed to be in a relationship with Steve in the first place was a red flag. Steve was extremely open from the start with what the terms of their relationship was. He straight up told her that he would go steady with her but the second that Laura showed any indication that she was into him then he would leave Myra. Myra knew this and agreed to date Steve under those terms. And it would be different if after that Myra was chill with Steve/Laura but she wasn't... she acted with extreme and scary jealousy at all turns which tells me that Myra went into that relationship manipulatively. She went in thinking that she could change Steve like "he's in love with her now but after dating me for awhile I can change his mind" which is such a toxic thing to do.

🚩 #2 Early in Steve and Myra's relationship Myra straight up spied on Steve outside his bedroom window and sketched him in the nude. Yes she did apologize but words are cheap when they are not accompanied by real change in character and Myra never changed. In S9, she's still spying on Steve.

🚩 #3 I mean just watch the way Steve and Myra kiss. 95% of their kisses are Myra forcing herself on Steve. Like i'm saying that he's trying to get away from her and she is physically trying to hold him down and force a kiss on him. How is that relationship attractive to some people. Reverse the roles... if it were a man doing that to a woman then it would rightfully be treated as sexual assault and it is sexual assault on Steve by Myra. And it's so clear that Steve is reluctant to be physical with Myra because his heart is not completely in that relationship and he wants to be with Laura. Myra just stalked him and pushed him into a "relationship."

🚩 #4 Early on before they were going steady and Steve was still trying to avoid Myra... Myra switched schools to be near Steve. It's super weird especially since Steve was clearly trying to avoid her at that time.

All these red flags lead to the person we see in S9. Behaviour does tend to escalate as you get older and that's what we are seeing with Myra. She was always creepy and never respected Steve's boundaries and then in S9 she escalated her own behavior to psycho levels because she officially lost Steve to Laura.

🚩 In s9, she spends the entire time conniving to destroy Steve and Laura's relationship. She tries to get Steve to cheat on Laura with her. She uses Stefan to try and break up Steve and Laura.

🚩 Myra puts a camera in Steve's glasses and then spies on him for 2 months. Her room is so indicative of what a creep she is. The blanket on her bed is just a huge picture of Steve, her wallpaper is just pictures of Steve. She has a TV screen on her wall where she just looks at the feed of her glasses camera and spies on Steve in the process.

🚩 On Steve and Laura's first date, Myra crashed it dressed EXACTLY like Laura and i'm talking about everything from her lipstick to her hair to her clothes. And then Myra straight up admits she did it because Steve loves Laura and maybe if she looks like Laura then Steve will love her. Myra then gives Laura her watch as a "gesture of burying the hatchet," Myra walks out and immediately flags down a police officer and proceeds to accuse her of stealing the watch. All this to get Laura arrested and destroy Steve and Laura's date.

I wish that Steve had broken up with Myra sooner but it makes sense that he would cling to Myra. Steve is not used to anyone loving him that much so he takes it even if it's weirdly obsessive attention. His parents hate him/abuse him, his classmates hate him, Carl is mean to him, Eddie's a bad friend to him most of the time. Laura is the only one who goes to bat for him and is a friend. And then Myra comes along and is the first person to have romantic feelings. I'm not a therapist so i'm not gonna go too far into this but with Steve's childhood it makes perfect sense that he put up with Myra's bullshit for as long as he did.

#family matters #myra monkhouse #steve urkel #laura winslow #steve and laura #steve and myra #staura

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peach-pops · 4 years

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Famous S/O HC

This is very self-indulgent cause I’m the type to make up fake scenarios where I’m famous and going on interviews and press tours asfjdks. If you guys want, I’ll make more of these! Oikawa+Tsukishima underneath the cut!

How The Haikyuu Boys Find out that You’re Famous

-Bokuto- (Pro-Athlete)

Bokuto knew you were an athlete but he had NO IDEA that you were super famous. Like he always thought it was normal for people to come up to you after your game to ask for pictures or autographs ???

I mean that’s why he was so drawn to you because of how much passion you had for your said sport cause duh he could relate

One day when you two were out at the mall, he told you that he needed to get new shoes to work out in and so the two of you went into the Nike store so he could look around

He was looking through the shoe aisle and after almost two hours of looking through the same shelves, he finally found a pair he liked (shopping with him is so time-consuming but that’s for a different day)

when he found a pair he liked, the two of you made your way to the cashier to pay for his shoes. As the cashier was ringing Bokuto up, his eyes traveled up to the large poster/banner that was directly behind the cashier’s area and smiled to himself

It was a colorful promotional banner with a bunch of top athletes from around the world and as he’s looking at the banner, he sees this girl and he nudged you like,” Babe, she looks like you!”

You look up from your phone and sure enough, you’re plastered on the wall posing with other athletes

“ Oh yeah, I didn’t think this shoot would come out until next month.”

Bokuto didn’t even process what you just said but my dude behind the cash register stopped scanning the shoes to turn his head to the banner and he turned PALE.

He even does a double-take cause hold up, is there seriously a pro athlete in front of him?

“ Oh my god...You’re Y/N L/N!”

“ How do you know my…” Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the banner again and he even squinted like hold up

AND IT ALL SUDDENLY CLICKS FOR HIM

“ Y/N? That’s you!”

“ Yeah-”

Bokuto can’t even believe it and he totally spaced out when you take a selfie with the guy behind the register with the banner in the background like UMMM HIS GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS WHAAAAAA

“ YOU’RE ON A NIKE POSTER OH MY GOD! LOOK YOU’RE ON THIS MAGAZINE WHA-”

Dude is totally making a scene in this store but he does not give a single fuck

As he’s walking you back home, he’s looking up all of your stats and even watches a compilation called “ 100 times Y/N L/N was a beast!” and he’s just shooketh

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A FREAKING PRO ATHLETE??”

“ I didn’t think it was a big deal I mean, you’re pretty famous too babe.”

“ I DON’T HAVE A PROMOTIONAL BANNER WITH NIKE!”

He’s not salty at all he’s just a bit emo cause he felt bad that he never even noticed before

As your fame grows, so does Bokuto’s with his volleyball career. You and him are described as a powerhouse couple and it really hypes the two of you up like THE POWER YALL POSSESS TOGETHER ON AND OFF THE COURT/FIELD/WHATEVER

Lots of training together and joint interviews together like Wired autocomplete or your favorite ~THIRST TWEETS~

“ ~Bokuto could spike a volleyball in my face, crack my nose in two different places, and I’d thank him~ oh my god that’s horrible I would never do that.”

“ I mean, you’ve done it before haven’t you?”

“ That was different anyway, your turn Y/N!”

*passes that clunky ass bucket*

“ ~Y/N L/N, please tie me up and- oh my god this is too dirty I can’t! My mom will watch this!”

If you’re a pro volleyball player, you two get compared a lot and it bugged you at first since you felt like you two were two very different in terms of playing style but after a while, you both started to encourage the idea of your own playful rivalries like comparing stats and wins

But if you’re in a different sport, you two get asked questions like who’s sport is harder or what it would be like if you two switched sports like??? But because you two are in different fields, you both have such major respect for each other cause you can’t even imagine how much hard work it is

He absolutely does not mind it at all when fans approach you two if you guys are on a date. He knows how important your relationship with fans are, especially if they’re younger girls who look up to you as a role model

Bokuto will fall in love with you all over again whenever you crouch down to a younger fan ughhhghgh

He doesn’t care for the paparazzi to be honest. he knows it comes with the territory but he will get a bit protective if they start to get too close to you

“ Hey, we’re just trying to get back home so just let us through please,” but if it continues, he will not give a single fuck about being nice,” dude, what did I just say? Back off!”

Mad!bokuto will be the death of me

He knows how stressful it is being a pro athlete but he will always remind you how proud he is of you and if he ever sees you overworking, he will make sure you take a day off even if that means just napping together all day

Long story short, Bokuto would be amazing to have by your side as you’re navigating being in the public eye and you may quote me on that

-Oikawa- (Actress)

This attention whore I swear

So Oikawa knows that you act but he doesn’t know that you’re an actress (which is basically the same thing)

Like as a kid you were in commercials and you had a small role in a tv show but it wasn’t like it was super popular.

But what Oikawa didn’t know was that a couple months before you two started dating, you were flown out to America to star in an upcoming and highly anticipated movie

since you were under a contract, you weren’t allowed to talk about it until the trailer dropped and it ate away at you because all you wanted to do was tell people especially your boyfriend

ANYWAY He decided to take you on a date to the movie theatre and as you two were getting popcorn, these girls came up to you two

“ Hi! Is it okay if we can get a picture with you?”

“Of course, how could I ever turn down my lovely fans-”

“ No, not you, Y/N!”

Oikawa is just flabbergasted as the girls hand their phone to him so he can take a photo of you with your fans he deadass thinks it’s some prank

After the girls left, he gave you a weird-ass gaze and asked you what that was about but you just shrugged and told him that maybe it was because of ur mini part in that one tv show

So he thinks nothing about it and teased you that it was so cute how you had a mini fanbase and you weren’t going to lie, it was pretty freaking cool

You guys entered your theatre and got settled into your seats as the movie trailers started to play.

(Oikawa loves watching trailers like this dude is the type to take you 45 minutes before the movie actually begins JUST to make sure he doesn’t miss anything)

As you’re chilling in your seat, you see the trailer to your movie so you do your best to keep your eyes on your boyfriend and the screen at the same time cause you want to see his reaction

The trailer plays and Oikawa seemed to be interested in the movie but again, it’s like any normal trailer UNTIL he hears your voice coming from the screen and he immediately sits up in his seat

“ Wait- was that your voice?”

“ My voice?”

“ Nevermind, I think I’m going crazy-”

AND THEN HE SEES YOU ON THE SCREEN! Since it’s a trailer it was just about five seconds of an intense/dramatic scene but it’s enough for Oikawa to lose his mind

“ OH MY GOD THAT IS YOU!”

This prompts some people in the audience to shush him but Oikawa doesn’t care

“ OH SHUSH THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND! Y/N! THAT’S YOU!”

“ Toru oh my god yes that’s me but stop screaming or they’re gonna kick us out!” You whispered loudly as Oikawa clamped his hand over his mouth

He’s so happy and he’s beaming with pride so he pulls out his phone and records the trailer to post it in his group chat cause duh he wants to show the boys how proud he is but when he sees you kissing someone else for .6 seconds, Oikawa just (ㆆ_ㆆ) and stops recording

“ Are you okay babe?”

“ Was that real or CGI?”

“ The building crumbling is all CGI-”

“ No...the kiss.”

THIS DUMBASS LMAO HE’S SO SALTY AND JEALOUS

“ Why didn’t you tell me you were this good?”

“ I- I was always this good! But I couldn’t say anything, I’m under a contract!”

“ But you could’ve told me! I wouldn’t have told a soul!”

That’s a whole ass lie, if he knew, he would’ve bragged about it to Iwaizumi

But foreal, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend like as months pass and your following gets bigger, he just gushes cause yep that’s his famous girlfriend ( he will 100% use you sometimes for clout)

this dude LOVES bragging to his friends that he’s dating a famous actress. Like he was always showing you off and hyping you up before but it gives him such an ego boost when people find out the two of you are dating

Oikawa is an attention whore like I said so you know whenever the paparazzi appears, he eats it up and will pose which is SOO embarrassing like pls why do u do this

But there are some days where you don’t want to get recognized and he 100% understands so the two of you will wear disguises as to not get recognized. One time you two ended up getting caught so he just grabbed your hand and the two of you SPRINTED back to the subway

He will have all of your movies on DVD and if your movie is on a streaming service, he will buy a membership JUST so he can watch your movie

Sometimes you’ll come over to his house and he’ll always try to make you watch your movie for the millionth time

“ Toru, can we please watch something else?”

“ But my extremely talented and beautiful girlfriend is in this movie why would I watch anything but this?”

Don’t be fooled he WILL skip through any kissing scenes or scenes where your character shows any type of affection to another character

LOVESSS tagging along with you to photoshoots, interviews, red carpet events ALL OF IT

Red carpet events give him a chance to dress up and lowkey his outfit is always one of the best there. He won’t outshine you per se but fans actually look forward to see what he’ll be wearing and he’s not even in any of the movies I-

Your schedule gets pretty busy once your career takes off and even though there are certain time periods where you’re across the world, it won’t stop him from sending huge bouquets to your set

Basically, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend and is overall so proud of how you managed to juggle your studies with your acting career 10/10 best boy

-Tsukishima- ( Musician/Singer)

You and Tsuki had only been dating for a bit and since it was all still new, he kept it on the down-low because the last thing he needed was his teammates pestering him about a girl

Tsuki knew you liked to sing and write songs but you never told him about how well known you were simply because he never asked

He just assumed it was a side thing for you UNTIL he showed up to practice and some of his teammates were huddled around Noya watching something on his tablet

“ Move your elbow! I can’t see-”

“ Watch your hand-”

“ Shush! I can’t hear her-”

“ What are you idiots watching?” Tsuki asked as he craned his neck to look at the screen

No one answered him so he started to watch the music video and low and behold, your face popped up on screen singing along to your lyrics that he’s heard a million times

Tsuki is a bit taken aback cause why is his girlfriend in such a high production video and why is his heart feeling some type of way seeing you in that outfit

Like lemme just take off my glasses and see that again ( •_•)>⌐■-■

” Where did you guys get that video?”

“ What do you mean, it’s online? She’s trending right now-”

“ God all of her songs are so good I want to see her live-”

“ I can’t believe she goes to school with us-”

“ I wish she would step on me-”

“ Hey, don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” Tsuki said dryly as he glares at the back of Noya’s head, which prompted everyone to turn around

“ You’re dating Y/N L/N? Ha! That’s funny Tsuki!” Tanaka laughed as he slapped Tsuki in the back harshly

At first, even Tsuki was questioning himself like wait, is he even sure you’re dating? cause this girl in the music video was NOT the same girl he was on the phone with last night

If you had asked Tsuki 10 seconds ago if he would ever reveal to the guys he was dating someone, he would say helllll no but now that he knew about this, he didn’t care about keeping the relationship a secret especially if they were thirsting over his girl

He had all the proof in the world that he was dating you but took the salty approach to prove it to them. He pulled out his phone and shot you a text even though you were in class

Tsuki: Come to the gym right now

Y/N: is everything ok?

Tsuki: just come quickly

You left your class to “use the restroom” and practically rushed to the gym thinking that something was wrong with your boyfriend. You slid into the gym, causing the boys to look up from the tablet and you ignored their shocked faces

“ Where’s Tsukishima?”

The boys slowly did a doubletake from the music video back to you to make sure they were seeing correctly and even though you were a bit embarrassed to hear your song playing in the background, you were just worried about Tsuki

Tsuki walked out to you from behind the guys and you rushed over to him

“ Babe, what’s wrong?”

“ BABE?!”

The boys were shocked and the second years practically FAINTED in your presence

Tsuki pulled the tablet from Noya’s cold, dead hands and showed you the screen,” Care to explain this?”

“ I- Um, it’s my music video…”

“Well are you famous or something?”

“ I wouldn’t say famous…more like upcoming artist?”

And then the next week you’re a nominee for the VMA’s asjfkghdk

honestly out of Oikawa and Bokuto, he probably handles it the best on the outside, he doesn’t make too big of a deal out of your fame but on the inside he’s can’t even believe it

He doesn’t go around shouting to the world that he’s dating the Y/N L/N but he has his own ways of supporting you. He’ll listen to your songs whenever he’s walking in the hallway or doing homework at home and he’ll catch himself liking tweets that are about you as long as they’re positive

He’s def the type to argue with people online if they say mean comments and will report/block them before you can even see it

IDC how much he tries to hide it, he is deadass ur biggest fan. Tsuki will tease you about how nervous you act during interviews/award shows but he will ALWAYS go with you to ease your nerves even if he had prior plans

If you ever write a song for him, he gets SO RED AND EMBARRASSED so pls do that

Will def call you baka for doing so but deep down, he’ll fall in love with you even more cause you’re able to put into words how he feels about you

I don’t think he’ll be too comfortable with you posting about him but he knows he can’t do anything about people taking photos of the two of you out together in public

Tsuki would never be rude to your fans though like if you were recognized during a date, he wouldn’t make a fit and will take photos of you and your fans to speed the process along

He HATES HATES HATES the paparazzi’s like it’s one thing for fans to come up to you when yall are in public but he gets mad when the paparazzi harasses you with questions/pictures/comments

“ Y/N! Turn around and give a smile!”

“ Not right now, I’m sorry.”

“ Oh come on, don’t be shy! Just show the camera a little skin!”

“ How about you shut the hell up before I smack that camera out of your face.”

Head empty, no thoughts, just thinking about Mad!tsuki

It’s a big adjustment for Tsukishima that he has a girlfriend in the entertainment sphere but he knows how hard you’ve worked for it and he would never tell you to stop living your dream

Sometimes he’ll feel insecure because you’re so successful and he doesn’t want to hold you back but since he can’t imagine being without you, he just pushes those thoughts away and enjoys every minute with you

1K notes · View notes

horanghoe · 4 years

Text

warm milk & honey - SKZ fic

A/N: I just realised I forgot Han ^ I am screaming

Pairing: OT7/reader

Rating: PG friendly (with a friendly warning of poly / multiple person relationship).

Genre: POLY!SKZ / Fluff / Very slight angst & mentions of bad sleep patterns.

Word Count: 3.6k exactly, my doods

Summary: A restless night, ultimately remedied by your sweet baby man angel boys. Or alternatively: Istg if Jisung makes one more weird noise imma end this man’s whole life no cap, Binnie hold me back -

Back to ~ SKZ Masterlist

Back to ~ Main Masterlist

Special Mentions <3

@domjaehyun for being a yoghurt eating legend that takes a year to respond ASKDJF ILY BICH//

@seowoos for inspiring this whole damn thing & helping me feel more comfortable w publishing more niche content models. Even if it’s just cheesy enough for the two of us <3 //

@chocolvte for being another OG on this list, n just generally being a sweet bean <3 baby girl ur reactions were the second inspiration to get me INTO SKZ in the first place. ily uwu //

and lastly, surprise @mikoto-ica-fics !! You were the last part of the equation that got me to write smin for these boys. I binged practically all your fics in two nights bby, keep making michellin star fics <3

Tonight wasn’t working out quite as you had expected.

To be honest, it was fucking shit.

Well, the night itself was okay. In terms of activities. An evening in with your boyfriend, Chan.

Just you two versus the world. The poor boy was so tired that honestly, it had only consisted of a walk through the park to grab snacks, and returning to the empty dorm to laze around the whole evening. A Netflix date with some *ahem* late night fun to settle you both into a deep, restful state.

It was brilliant, fantastic. Until it wasn’t.

Until you lay painfully awake in his bed and suffocated in the dark silence and space between you. It wasn’t Chan’s fault; the obnoxious whirring of electronics made your head spin, tiny flashing lights and minute feelings of unease at the cupboard door leaning open; all made it virtually impossible to sleep.

It was too cold. Too hot. You were so comfortable, melted into the mattress. But it was swallowing you and your claustrophobia was starting to make you twitch. Moving off of your angelic boy’s limbs, you shimmied to the cooler side of the bed.

He stirred a little, before settling on turning away, onto his side. Phew. At least you hadn’t woken him. It wasn’t like you were trying to be selfish, but fuck. This was insufferable.

Every time you looked at the clock you were sure it slowed down - balls, at this point it could’ve skipped back an hour and you wouldn’t have batted an eye. Mostly because if they weren’t checking the clock, they were staring dead straight up at the ceiling.

Eh. Ugh. Fuck. I can’t sleep.

That’s all your brain could think. Stuck - monotone and on a never-ending loop.

It seemed like everything you had ever thought was swimming around in your brain like some kind of primordial juice. Feelings and emotions swelling and bloating in your belly until they settled.

And then a car passed outside, and everything started to swell up again.

Chan was on his side, turned away and peacefully gaining some shut-eye. He was only lightly sleeping though, that much you could tell. His body gently lifting, then falling with breath. Like you; he often struggled to sleep deeply, usually not lasting very long when he did manage to.

You were so pissed.

How dare he sleep. And look so good doing it. Even just his bareback looked hot as shit - here you were, a messy, greasy big toe wrestling with your stupid ape brain to shut off the useless brain thoughts, next to this slice of heaven - just, ugh existing so perfectly.

“Oh my god, this is torture.” You cursed quietly into the dead space.

Maybe the frustration was all from hormones?

Nah, fuck that. Feminism and all that jazz. That’s just part of the human condition, babycakes. Happens to the best of us, unfortunately.

No, what it was, was the constant whirring coming from the TV screen and Felix’s PlayStation tower and large monitor. The tiny little flashes, whirrs, huffs from the fan and rotating lights. It was driving you abhorrently insane. FUCK.

“Chan? Channie, baby, are you awake?.” You whispered into the air. His breath faltered a little, stirred mostly by your movement to groan, gruff and flip the duvet off your hot, sticky body. Gentle though you tried to be, it was still enough to wake his fuzzy brain.

“Chan, please. I’m sorry babe but that TV is driving me fucking insane.” Your voice was too alert and frustrated for him not to stir. His heart panged a little at the distress laced in your tone.

“Please, Channie. I’m so sorry…”

He rolled on his back to look at you. Slowly, and with much effort. He groaned softly before wiping his eyes and leaving his arms above his head.

“Hey.” He whispered, warmly smiling.

“Don’t be sorry – can you not sleep again, baby girl?” Chan asked softly, watching you sit stiffly upright. His deep voice made your heart flutter, nodding as he groaned. He smiled despite any resentment you may have allowed him to feel. Resting his warm palm against your rib as he muttered a response - you excused his fumbled words for definition - so tired he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

“You can turn it off, yeah?” Chan sighed.

What he meant was ‘You know how and where to turn it off, without messing up the whole system like last time, right?’. You nodded quickly, squeezing his bicep lightly before slipping from the exposed mattress.

Dashing up to scramble behind the low TV unit and find the one wire to end it all. Your infernal pain that was.

He watched you, letting his eyes rest occasionally. Truth was, you looked so beautiful to him when you were concentrating on something. For example, pulling out the HDMI cord triumphantly. And holding in a small squeal (scream), of relief when the high pitched buzzing cut out with a slight electronic fuzz. He chuckled, not missing your little feet pattering in step with a tiny little victory pump.

“Yes. Fuck. The noise, it’s gone!” Chan chuckled softly, keeping his arm outstretched until you landed beside him. Pulling you toward him, under the covers.

“Yeah, you really got that wire Y/N. Showed it who’s the boss, huh?” His tired enthusiasm outweighed his sarcasm, owning a soft kiss to the cheek as you clambered over the bed, only to flop with a weighted sigh straight down onto his shoulder.

He giggled, smiling with a yawn as he tucked his arm against your ribs, tucking you up against his chest in a bearhug.

You fell asleep quickly; soft breaths and just the presence of Chan's being, enough to satiate the gnawing ache in the back of your brain.

And it was peaceful. Restful. Warm, and so pleasant.

Until it wasn’t.

Turns out tonight wasn’t your night. The clock read 1:28 am – and the boys were due to come home from practice any moment now. To be honest they were pretty late.

Chan had originally had the day off, hence the chance for you to be led here in his arms. But you were starting to think it really hadn’t made that much of a difference.

It wasn’t just the high pitched whirring that had aggravated you, but now the uncomfortable heat radiating from Chan's body. The small whoosh of cool air against your neck at any vehicle that passed by. Or just the evening breeze. You groaned softly, dropping your head back to Chan’s chest with a soft thud, lulling back into a light and unrestful sleep.

Ten minutes or so passed. Waking from a fuzzy dream, you were disorientated. The worst dreams always happened in short little bursts. Like little hellish fever dreams.

The clock now read 1:39 am and the time between minutes was becoming unbearable. Too long to bear . You had to move. Speak. Scream. Cry. Kick. Do something.

Peeling off Chan’s arm, and replacing yourself with a large fluffy pillow, you left your lover to rest. You dread to think that it would be able to replace you, but hey, at least it wouldn’t move like one big fat sweaty ferret, right?

Sigh. Sad times.

You abandoned Chan for the disgustingly bright hallway. Seeking new comforts, from whoever would take you. The boys were home; noises of beings floating down the hall, past Chan’s room.

By the time you had gathered the strength to rise off the bed though – blinking away the stars and excited little lines in your vision and raising enough chi to move your soul, and body upwards off of the bed – an inkling of tiredness was starting to itch into your consciousness.

You ached to be held. Loved.

You weren’t sleepy enough to get back into his bed though. Though; you missed Chan’s body as soon as you had tumbled yourself away from it.

---------

Fetching your favourite fluffy square pillow and putting on one of Chan’s big shirts, you padded out and into the hallway. The door closed behind you with a soft putt, pillow tight against your belly.

The tired but comfortingly loud voices of your other lovers were coming from the kitchen.

You wobbled forward, groaning to yourself as your thighs began to ache. Just from being alive, you guessed. Your thighs tingled your skin into little chilly goosebumps, a shiver sparking down your spine.

Maybe the heat of Chan’s bed wasn’t so bad, you began to consider. Before a voice echoed down to where you were slowly walking from.

“Ya – hold up, I’ll grab my jumper then we can watch that stupid shit-film you were on about earlier?” You heard Jisung shout over the kitchen to the boys gathered on the sofa.

The boys muttered some form of agreement and before you could process it, the firm but soft body of Han Jisung had swung right around the corner and straight into your zombie path.

Being conscious, and not half-dead like you, he was able to stop abruptly in front of you and step back a little. The shock of a body blocking his path was quickly masked with warm love as he cooed at the sight of you.

“Y/n-ieeeeee look at youuuu~” He whispered loudly, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze you firm against his body.

His presence eased you, despite the chaotic energy he may have appeared to have. He was just one big squirrel with muscles. The perfectly-right size to pull you against him, your neck flopping so skin met skin, cheek to shoulder in that white sleeveless shirt of his.

You melted into his caring touch, groaning when he gave a squeeze and actually, not hating how firmly he held you. For a moment, he seemed to be just quietly accepting your unspoken words. Night-long grief expressed in the way you clung to him.

Eventually, he asked the inevitable questions, though.

“Baby, why aren’t you asleep? Hmm, pretty? It’s like, 2 am already!” He exclaimed softly, somewhat conscious of Chan’s sleeping presence down the hall. And your zombie-eardrums.

You couldn’t answer, instead, you let him pull you away so he could peer down at your head against his shoulder. The pillow was a soft barrier between you, though he removed it to place it softly on the floor.

“As cute as you look in Chan’s top right now, baby, this hallway is pretty cold. Gosh damn, your legs are shaking so much. How long have you been standing out here princess? Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?” He squeezed you against him once more - rubbing his warm palms against your trembling, shivering thighs.

As he stood back up you groaned again, reluctant to articulate how badly you just wanted to be softly touched. Not aggressively rubbed. Even if you appreciated the notion, it was cutely awkward. Your expression made him laugh softly, tucking hair behind your ear and placing a kiss on your cheek, head, forehead.

“You okay though? Wanna come sit with us?” You nodded quickly, body flopping into his hold as soon as his arms went to lift you. Your head rested on his shoulder, Jisung’s body dipping to lift you and wrap your knees around his hips. He was such a careful, sweet baby boy.

“Ya – come on you big baby, you. Who do you want to be delivered too for the meantime, huh? I gotta go change out of my gym stuff.”

“Hyunjin-ah... please...” You mumbled airily. Despite how unused your voice was, it was sweet as honey. He smiled, responding with a soft “Sure" before turning back to where he had come from. Heart warmed by the opportunity to care for you, even if for just a moment.

And even though he was a bit sticky – and the thought ‘yuck' registered quickly in your half-conscious brain – you didn’t mind the smell. Or the languid way he carried you.

You nuzzled against his neck, groaning once more as his entrance was announced to the room. A loud “Han Jisung's Special Delivery Service!” was projected, I.N. slipping by with a quick ruffle of your hair before moving to turn down the hall, into his room. The boys looked up at the noise and your entrance into the room, immediately softened by the sight.

You, entirely snuggled against a buoyant Jisung, that held you so carefully against his chest. Messy hair tucked under his chin; your eyes were puffy, sore, and barely open as he came into the centre of the soft-lit room.

“Nawww – cuuuutieeee~” Changbin cooed, Lee Know giggling as Seungmin stepped forward to kiss your cheek, sweetly brushing hairs away from your face. The proximity to Jisung didn’t seem to spook his intimacy.

Your eyes fluttered close from the embrace, Seungmin smiling to himself at his ability to soothe you. Even just a little.

“That’s a funny looking jumper, Ji.” Seungmin quipped, before adding a quick “Hi Y/N.” With a small squeeze of your cheek, before heading toward the kitchen.

“Hyunjin-ah you have a special request delivery here, where shall I put her?” Jisung questioned, approaching the sofa nimbly.

Hyunjin smiled, shuffling a little before holding out his arms, patting his lap.

“Right here~” you heard, before feeling gravity weigh at your back. You got off early, aided by Jisung and Hyunjin’s hands on your hips. Quietly you yawned, turning to a barefaced beautiful boy, smiling at you cutely.

Jisung pecked a kiss on your shoulder before passing, leaving to go sort himself out.

Hyunjin smiled up at you with a coo, pulling you down towards him with his long limbs. With you laying, legs tangled above him he wiggled back so you could lay comfortably on his chest.

He kissed your cheek before tucking your forehead against his chin, your eyes slowly bobbing open and shut as his calm vibe washed over you. Changbin shared some of your weight on the somewhat roomy sofa; kissing your hair softly and curling against you to keep you warm.

The television was on a late-night MC show playing. Though it registered to you as white noise. The boy’s voices over you were soothing, even if they edged a little loud occasionally.

At some point, you had started to drift off again. For the most part, Hyunjin was a gentle giant anyways. So despite his resistance to skinship, your body (and some of the boys), was never left out in terms of body-pillow-comforts.

Meaning, he treated your limbs like a very bony pillow he could encapsulate entirely.

You weren’t sure where the others were. Or what part of the sofa you were even on. You figured the end since the guys had their feet up. But you didn’t mind. It was safe. Here, in their arms. Against their bodies.

Even the bright overhead lights of the kitchen and hallway weren’t enough to stop you lulling into sleep.

At a later point, you awoke again with a startle – Jisung shushing your tired whines with a kiss as he jumped onto the sofa to your left, a little too enthusiastically. Hyunjin moaned like a brat, ultimately having a play fight underneath you until you mustered up a death stare to end all squabbles, ever. Period. Jisung settled, intertwining your fingers on Hyunjin’s belly until your breath softened. Falling into a weak slumber once more.

Once again; your sleep was great. Perfect. Until it wasn’t.

An abrupt jostle of Hyunjin jolting to stop spilling the food he held above your head, was met with an unattractive grunt of pure disgust on your part. Eyes squinted, head wrinkled and body tense, you were once again awake.

“Sorry baby! I didn’t mean to wake you!” Hyunjin whined, too loudly next to your throbbing head. Changbin noticed your tense limbs and pulled you backwards against his chest. This merely caused another squabble to ensue between them - who held the right to hold you, like a fluffy comfort blank.

Suddenly everything was bothering you again.

Their constant jostling and boyish movements were just too much. You pulled up from Changbin. Avoiding the tugging, whining, needy arms and hands from Hyunjin to stand weakly once more.

Frustrated. Tired. And all coupled with a reasonably ugly scowl weeping over your face.

They were so engrossed in their silly little arguments, little kicks, punches and teasing laughter, that they barely even noticed your sluggish movements to get up.

Until you were on your feet. Your body heat sapped from them in a bitter attempt at being sour. Hyunjins hands immediately flew out to steady you. Changbin pouting but ultimately letting you retreat once more.

“Y/Nieeee~ Come baaack, I didn’t mean it. Come lay back down, baby~” Hyunjin whined warily, the other two boys still giggling amongst themselves. You swatted against the tiredness on your face, grumbling before stumbling backwards.

You made it a few steps before you folded over on impact at hitting the kitchen table. The table thudded on impact and the boys winced, watching your face scrunch up in pain immediately.

A new pair of hands caught you this time, stuttering before lean arms caught you.

“Woah! Careful there pretty girl, nearly took the whole bloody table out. You okay?”

Felix's. Soft, caring and most importantly soft voice and calm motions of support waved over you in a way that gave you immediate comfort. You rested your head against his chest as he tugged you up, body slumping into him with an inaudible impact. He giggled, despite your weighted movements, speaking lowly with that deep, tired voice of his.

“Y/N, you silly sausage, are you alright?” He prompted quietly, leaning his head down to capture your whines and huffs of pain.

“Owww, my butt… That hurt~” You groaned, not minding his giggles but sending a puffy glare to the others snickering away on the sofa.

The table (or your idiot bulldozer body), had set a deep ache right into the cheek of your butt. Your hand kneaded it gently before Felix’s hand quickly replaced yours, rubbing and squeezing softly until your face scrunched, the pain subsiding.

“Ouch.” You whispered, peering up at him with a pout. He kissed your nose cutely with a little eruption of giggles, helping you crack a pouty smile.

“Come on, cutie.” He mumbled before grabbing your hand to guide you slowly into the kitchen. “I could kiss it better?” He prompted, ultimately softening at your lack of response. You were so morgue-ish you hadn’t even registered his words. Letting him tug you blindly as your eyes struggled to stay open.

You could barely register his hands, pressing at your waist. Weakly managing to hold on as he lifted you on top of the counter. Squinting, you could see the clock read 2:23 (am) on the cooker. Ugh. What a night.

You’d feel shit in the morning. But that was nearly impossible to think about with the way Felix was holding you right now. Like a baby. Or a puppy. A little ball of fluff.

He kept some form of contact as he moved around you – a hand to the knee or his hip between your legs. Or even lips against your hairline, using the counter space around you to do something. What he was doing, you were tired to even care.

“You know what used to help me Y/N? When I couldn’t sleep at night?” He prompted gently. You shook your head, pulling back with a weak sway

“Warm milk and honey!” He exclaimed quietly. Too cute for his own good. You smiled, and he pulled you against his chest to kiss your cheek and giggle delicately.

“You want some? Then we could try to sleep? You look like you need some shut-eye, baby. Don’t wanna miss out on that beauty sleep! If you want - we can always sleep in – just call in sick? Your boss is honestly so nice, I'm sure she won’t mind. You say you’re always working through lunch breaks anyway?”

Despite his rambling, you just nodded. Tired eyes once again resting as the hum of the radiator, the vibration of his chest eased your brain. Your head tucked so right underneath his chin. His palms folded behind your lower back.

At some point, Changbin had appeared. Sweeping a thumb over your forehead before kissing you sweetly, cheek resting on Felix’s shoulder.

“I love you, princess. Sorry for waking you.” He had whispered against your lips. “Mmm-I-love-you-too-Binnie~” You managed in one tumbling sentence. In fairness, the touch would've probably led you both somewhere (the bedroom), if you weren’t in such a zombie-like state.

“Sure thing, pretty.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your puffy cheeks before retreating. He let you both be, cold marble beneath your thighs now warmed by your constant body heat. You passed out pretty quickly against Felix’s chest. Cocooned, safe.

What you did miss in your deep, deep sleep was the way they carried you.

Felix physically, to their shared room. Changbin carrying your drinks and fetching your favourite pillow from the hall.

And what you heavenly missed in the night; they made up to you in the morning.

And the next night. And the night after that.

Because even though you occasionally suffered restless nights, you knew one of them would always be there to catch you.

And you’d do the same for them.

P.S. Fuck Chan’s wiring system. Extension cables were the bane of your nightly living. *holds up fingers in a cross and hisses*

well would you look at that: updated 03/OCTOBER/2021

654 notes · View notes

wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

without making this a sap story ive had some not so great news from home and am in one of them moods to not talk abt it. but i need a tom h to hug me , pls could u write something like that?

hey anon - i am sending u all my love, and hope things get a little easier for u as soon as possible. if u ever do wanna chat abt nothing or rant just send me a pm x I hope this is at least somewhat what u were looking for <33

summary: life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)

a bit angsty but i promise mainly fluff (and a popcorn fight?)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What drew you out of the sort-of-trance was a two soft but firm knocks at the door - well Tom’s bedroom door. You’d been relaxing with him and Harry, watching the new ‘Line of Duty’ when your mum had called for the daily catch up. Admittedly, she had already tried to call you twice today but somehow you’d managed to miss both of them. On reflection, possible not that shocking because you’d been at a charity golf day with the boys which involved a fair amount of noise, chat and competition.

Thankfully the boys had both done pretty well, Tom coming slightly ahead but that was the norm between the two. It meant they were both happily basking in their relative victories and not moody and grumpy like they are oh so often when things go wrong. Because to them, against your pleading, begging and sometimes lecturing…. golf was not just a game.

You and your mum had always been very close, so usually speaking to her was uplifting and made you feel a little bit more complete - what with travelling with Tom for work, her voice was a slice of home. This time though, it was not so much the case. It was just sad news about your home town. Nothing directly to your family or close friends but still, it makes you feel generally down.

Who knows how long it’d been since you’d hung up on the phone, just staring at the wall opposite. Everything felt just hollow and empty, lacking in meaning somewhat. You weren’t necessarily thinking, more like devoid of emotion, of thoughts, of anything. Just a bit cold.

“Y/n…Y/n?” His voice sounded hesitant, as though scared he was interrupting your call. When you didn’t respond, the door cracked open and his fluffy head poked in, not that you noticed - your brain was still half absent. Tom on the other hand, was instantly looking you up and down, very much confused as the why you looked so rigid and not present. Noticing the phone was lying quiet on the bed in front of you, he felt safe to enter. He made a beeline for the bed, perching himself down on the edge, in-front of you - so he was blocking your fascinating view of the grey wall opposite.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” His voice was soft and gravely, choosing not to put much energy into his vocal box as he rubbed up and down one of your arms.

“Hmmm? Sorry, was miles away.”

“Could tell darl.” As he chuckled his eyes crinkled round the outside. “How was your mum?”

“Yeh…um okay, I-I guess.” As much as you wanted to shake yourself out of it, it just wasn’t that easy. Everything was laced with this underlying chilliness.

“You sure? You dont really sound it?”

“No, I um…well I’m not sure. I think I’m okay?”

“What happened?” You shook your head in response, making Tom press his lips together with a small nod. “ Don’t wanna talk about it huh?”

“Not… not right now. Please?”

With a permitting nod, Tom stood up and squeezed your hand, urging you to follow. Trailing behind him into the living room, he then instructed you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to Harry, Tom himself disappearing back into the house. It made you pout a little, you wanted him to just look after you a little this evening but that self pity wasn’t allowed to last long - because a piece of popcorn flew into your cheek. You whipped your head around, with mouth open feigning shock, to see Harry smirking at you cradling a bowl full of other possible missiles in hand.

“And what was that for?” He shrugged his shoulders, turning his head back to the TV.

“You looked sad.”

“…” Your mouth was open, no words coming out though, as you looked at the frizzy haired boy in bemusement. Sometimes you thought you understood how his head worked but at other points, the boy was a bloody mystery. Instead of explaining his thought process (because there almost certainly wasn’t one), he just smiled evily at you - wiggling his brows. And I know you know what that meant.

Sure enough by the time Tom reentered the room, arms full with different objects he’d collected round the house, the floor had been littered with popcorn kernels. You and Harry were squealing at each other as handfuls of the snack were catapulted vaguely at each other as you chased him round the room. It took Tom shouting at the both of you for you to freeze, slowly lowering your hands in ceasefire with a giggle.

“I leave you alone for two minutes.”

“ It was his fault!” You protested, causing a 5 minute of ‘ he said-she said’ between the two of you, even if Tom wasn’t listening to the bickering. Instead, he quickly whizzed round the room picking up all the obvious popcorn bits and then spread out all the blankets he’d got from round the rented house on the sofa.

You knew Harry, in his very own and special way, was only doing all this to cheer you up and you couldn’t appreciate it more. Your relationship with him had recently got so much closer, thanks to Tom being busy on set actually filming - while you and Harry just had some quality ‘almost sibling’ times. And now living with him too - naturally he had grown to know your tells almost as well as Tom.

“Alright children calm down… thought we could watch movie?” Plopping himself down on the cream seat, Tom made grabby hands to you which of course you had to comply with.

“I’ll um… I’m gonna leave you to- well to the being in love shit. It’ll make me chunder”

“We love you too bro” Tom called to Harry, who was already on his way out - but the tone of gratefulness in his voice was evident, he appreciated Harry noticing that the two of you could do with time together.

“Don’t make it weird!” Harry’s response had you sniggering, as you pulled the fluffiest blanket over both you and Tom and nestling into his side.

After a few minutes of Tom pretending to argue with you about film choice, before ultimately agreeing with your choice of ‘La la land’ as he always planned on letting you. The Holland boys were both very talented at subtly being a shoulder if needed, and yes you knew it was all an act - but you weren’t about to call him out. About halfway through he kissed the crown of your head and murmured. “Can tell you’re not watching darling.” He wasn’t wrong to be fair. Yes, you were looking at the screen - but your mind was far away from the plot line.

“Sorry I um… minds like a runaway train sometimes.” Tom released a breathy chuckle at that before murmuring a ‘come ‘ere’ to you as he all but lifted you up from sitting by his side. You ended up lying almost onto of him, with both of Tom’s strong arms holding you tightly to him. Smiling into his chest, you nestled closer so the soundtrack to the movie played over the top of his constant thudding heartbeat. It took a few moments of you both just staring into the screen, completely contented for Tom to speak, squeezing you slightly tighter whilst the two of you watched Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone twirling on the road.

“I gotchu now lovie”

And you swore then that all the thoughts racing in your mind were outpaced by those of a different kind. Still intense ideas, ones that buzzed round your brain, but these were happy. Thoughts of ‘how could I be so lucky’ and ‘I love this man with my whole heart’.

Apparently these thoughts were also a comfort because when Tom looked down at you after what must’ve been at least half an hour, you were spark out. Breathing deep and unchanging, eye locked shut and mouth slightly squashed against his chest so your lips were pressed together. But what made the boy physical pout was the way you relaxed hand was loosely balled round a fistful of his purple hoodie. As if you were clutching at him to keep him as close to you as possible.

He felt so grateful - not only for you, but also for the fact that he had the ability to make it a little better. You didn’t need him - Tom swore you were one of the most fiercely independent people he’d ever met - yet it was clear you wanted him. You wanted him when you felt down, the same way you wanted to be around him when you were overly hyper and chatting pure rubbish. You didn’t want him because he was the ‘Tom Holland’ you wanted him because he was Tom.

He couldn’t fix what was going on back at your home (I mean right now, he still didnt even know what was going on). But he did know how to make everything just a little less shit. He knew how to be your person.

And that would forever be job Tom was most proud of.

once again sending u all lots of love (esp u anon 💕)

would love to know what u guys think if ya made it this far ;)

tagging (link to join) : @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove

#tom holland #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagines #harry holland

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mrs-harkness · 4 years

Text

Ocean Eyes (Part 1)

Pairing: Tammy x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Taglist: @peggycarter-steverogers @imgayandmymomdoesntknow

A/n: Hey guys. Sorry for the wait. Life has been so busy as I just became a certified therapist and just life stuff in general. This is just going to be a mini fic for fun while I work on writing my next big one- which will be for Cordelia! Literally nothing like Run to Me, so I hope you don’t find it disappointing. Just a little filler while I work out the plot for my next story!

You pulled out your phone, checking the time. 1:53 PM. Your interview was at 2 o'clock and if you didn't figure out where you were quickly, you were going to be late. You walked faster, panic dialing your best friend who had gotten you the interview.

"Hello?" the sweet voice chimed on the other end.

"Sarah! Help! I'm lost," you pleaded, looking at the address on the piece of paper in your hand and trying to match it to the towering houses around you.

"How did you get lost? I gave you the exact address. Did the driver put it in wrong?"

"No. I made the Uber drop me off at the entrance to the neighborhood because his car looked super sketch and I didn't want the mom to see me step out of a car that looks like it was used in a 70's porn film. I started walking and I got lost."

You heard Sarah shuffling around in the background, and what sounded like the tapping of keys.

"Okay, give me the address for the closest house," she said. Your best friend was a life saver.

"Uhhh... 768 Elm Street," you told her, trying not to look suspicious in this wealthy neighborhood.

"Hmmm. Okay you're literally two streets over. If you go to the end of this street, take a right and walk less than two blocks. You'll make it to maple from there. You somehow managed to be right behind her house. It will take you about ten minutes."

Shit.

"No! There has got to be a quicker way! I am going to be late!" You whined, stomping your feet on the sidewalk in frustration.

"Yeah, Tammy is not going to like that. She is very patient but she's got three kids so she really only has enough patience for them. Well wait, hang on a second."

"What? Did you find a quicker route?"

"Sorta. You should have just stayed in the Uber."

"Sarah I did not want to pull up like Will Smith from the Fresh Prince of Belaire, now spit it out already!"

"Well that house you are standing in front of? Technically if you could find a way into their backyard and through the trees... you could get to Tammy's house in half the time."

You looked at the house in front of you. It looked more like a post office than a home. Large marble columns, real gas lamps framing a shiny oak door, and a second floor balcony that seemed larger than Sarah's whole apartment. This is not the type of property you just meandered around on, but this job was also not the type of opportunity you just let slip away by being two minutes late.

You walked a little to the side of the house, and there you found your favorite thing of the whole house: A gate to the backyard.

"I'm gonna do it," you say to Sarah, who had been quiet this entire time.

There was more silence, before you heard your best friend draw in a breath.

"Don't get arrested please. Call me when you're done, or in lock up. Either way, be safe."

Sarah had always been someone who just supported and loved you no matter what. Whether it was moving on a whim to another city and crashing on her couch indefinitely or trespassing through a rich family's yard to get the job that would help you get started on your dreams. She was that type of friend and you loved her for it.

You didn't even say goodbye as you hung up and checked the time again. 1:55 PM mocked you on the screen. You shoved the phone in your pocket before quickly looking around. No one was out and about thankfully probably due to the heat picking up, so you walked briskly over to the gate.

You said a prayer and begged the universe to be kind to you under your breath as you forced yourself to find the courage and flung open the lock to the gate, letting it swing open. You looked around the yard really quickly to find it empty as well. Maybe this wouldn't be hard at all.

You closed the gate behind you and you quickly jogged into the yard. There was a picnic table close to the other side of the fence and you would be able to hop right over! You breathed a sigh of relief because everything was going to plan, until the dog.

A ear piecing yap began sounding through the yard like an obnoxious security alarm. You turned and saw that the back of the home was basically one big window and there inside was the ugliest looking purse dog you had ever seen, notifying every living creature with working ears within a mile of your presence.

You watched horrified as the owner of said ugly dog appeared in the view of the window like some horror movie on a tv screen. An older woman, dressed as if she had been in the middle of a workout, was also now yapping at you angrily and making her way to her giant window wall.

Your feet started moving before you realized what was happening and you bolted to the back of the yard and onto the picnic table, jumping and throwing one of your legs over the fence. The little old woman made it to a sliding glass door, releasing her dog and profanities towards you.

The dog tore across the lawn, but thankfully was no actual threat. You looked at the woman as you threw your other leg over the fence.

"I'm not a criminal! I'm sorry! I just got lost on the way to a job interview. You have a nice home!" you yelled, trying to prove to this stranger you were not bad, just had poor execution of your ideas. You dropped over the other side of the fence and into the wooded area behind the home, running as fast as your feet could carry you from the angry woman and her angrier dog.

It only took you about a minute of running full force to make it to another fence, a fence you were praying was Tammy's. You ran around the length of it, following it to the front of the house. You shakily pulled out the paper from your pocket and checked the address. You had made it. This was the house. You laughed, more relieved than anything, and jogged to the front door.

You knocked and weren't even able to take a full breath before the door opened.

There before you stood the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. Her hair was the color of sand on the beaches of heaven its self and her eyes looked like brownies fresh from the over, and you had the strange thought of wanting to burn your mouth on them.

Y/n, that's weird. Stop it.

You stared at her, trying not to look to heavily at her gorgeous smile at the fear she may think you were looking at her lips. Even though you kind of were. You forced yourself to smile back.

"You must be Y/n," she said, looking at her watch, "and you are right on time. Let it be known I find that super attractive."

You chuckle nervously, unable to process a coherent thought. You really just hoped she couldn't tell you had just ran through the woods to stand stupid on her doorstep. Thankfully it didn't seem like she did and stepped aside, letting you in.

The home was gorgeous and lavish, but also homey and seemed lived in. You could hear the distant laughter of children somewhere in the house and portraits of what you could only assume were those children hung on the walls. You did notice though that there was a lack of family portraits probably due to the husband no longer being in the picture.

Sarah had filled you in a little bit about the family situation. She had worked with them over the summer and was working for them when they filed for divorce. Supposedly neither of them seemed upset by it, but he had still decided to move into another town. Tammy supposedly worked a very busy job and with three rambunctious kids, help was needed. Sarah had helped them occasionally, but Tammy needed something more permanent and hopefully that's where you would come in.

You followed Tammy into a big open kitchen and sat down with her at the kitchen table.

"Can I offer you some tea or water?" she said sweetly.

Even though you were parched from the mini marathon you had just ran, you politely declined. You pulled your resume out of your bag and put it on the table. Tammy reached over and took it, looking at it before smiling back up at you.

"I know Sarah said you had just moved here, so what brought you to town?" Tammy asked.

You hoped the look of confusion was not obvious on your face because you were expecting only questions about the job. You were unsure how useful you would be talking about yourself right now.

"Uh, well I came to town for a fresh start, and with Sarah here, it just seemed like the best place to restart."

"Running from something?" Tammy asked, putting down the resume and taking a sip of something in a mug that had been sitting on the table.

"N-no ma'am. Nothing illegal. I am not a criminal. I told the old lady the same thing," you stuttered.

Tammy raised her eyebrow at the last part, but you kept going to breeze over it hopefully.

"I just- I got my heartbroken and got kicked out of the apartment we shared. I didn't feel like I was making anything of my life where I was and I have such big dreams, but all I found there was pain and complacency, so I came here in hope to change that."

You voice sounded small and you ringed your hands in your lap, nervous that you may have said too much. Tammy's face softened even more somehow though and she smiled at you over the edge of her mug. She stared at you for a moment, her eyes seeming to sparkle. She nodded and looked down at your resume again.

"Well, you certainly have quite an impressive track record here. You seem like a kid expert. And because I already did a background check on you, I feel comfortable saying, if you would like the job its yours."

You sat there at the table, now not trying to hide the stunned look on your face. You had a harder time getting over the fence than getting employed by this woman.

"That's it? You don't need to ask me anything else? You're giving me the job?" you ask, stumbling over your words.

Tammy laughs and it feels like butterflies flutter in your belly. You like to make her laugh, but you aren't sure if she think's you're funny or stupid.

"With my life and my job, Y/n, the thing that is most important to me is being able to trust you. With my kids, my day to day life, and if I need your help with something. Trust and honesty go a long way with me, and you proved that with one question," she said, coming over to you with a glass of water.

You took it with a smile, forcing yourself to take a slow slip.

"Well, you can definitely trust me. And I'd be honored to by your nanny," you say, excitement and nervousness flowering inside your chest.

Tammy smiles sweetly at you.

"Consider yourself part of the family Y/n. Now you do know this is a live in position right? Sarah told you that?"

You nodded, that having been one of the main reasons you wanted the job. As much as you loved Sarah, you did not love sleeping on her couch. Being a live in nanny presented its own set of challenges, but it wouldn't be forever.

"Good. Can you move in today?"

You choked on your water, coughing and spitting it all over your shirt. Tammy laughed at you, and your cheeks burned red. Now you were embarrassed and Tammy sensed that.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to shock you. I just really need your help around here as soon as possible. And it would be better if you just came on in and got to know me and the kids since you're going to be a big part of our lives."

She handed you a paper towel, looking down at you with a comforting expression. Your cheeks burned red again, but not from embarrassment. You looked away and cleared your throat, unsure why you were so flustered.

"Sure. Yeah, no problem. I just need to run home and grab my clothes and things, but I don't have any furniture so-"

"Oh don't worry. You'll have the whole attic. Its renovated and fully furnished and you'll have your own bathroom. You don't need to worry about buying anything."

That was a relief. It would have taken you a while to afford those things.

You got up and walked with Tammy to the front door, her opening it for you.

"Thank you Ms. Tammy for hiring me, you will not regret it. I will take good care of your kids and make your life as easy as I possibly can," you say, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, attempting to look confident and wanting to ensure Tammy she had made the right choice.

She chuckled again, putting a little hole in that confidence, but it was quickly repaired when she wrapped her arms around you. It shocked you and you stood there, frozen for a second before hugging her back.

"I know you will. You're going to be a wonderful addition to our lives, all of our lives," she said. Her voice had a hint of something in it, making it seem like silk, but then you felt her pulling on your hair a bit and you felt like your legs may fall out from under you. Who was this woman?

Before you could assume anything further though, she pulled back and revealed she had taken a small branch with green leaves from your hair. You laughed nervously. Tammy cocked an eyebrow at you and smiled cheekily, holding it up.

"That is a funny story... I can explain that. I promise I bathe."

It was Tammy who laughed this time thankfully. She nodded and played with the branch in between her long, manicured fingers.

"That's alright. You can tell me about it tonight over drinks once you are home. I'd like to get to know you better while we get you settled."

Something about the way she said it made your breath catch in your throat. She smiled at you and you two said your goodbyes. You would text her when you were on the way back home. How strange that felt.

You sat in a much cleaner Uber on the way back to Sarah's, your head pressed against the glass. You couldn't stop thinking about Tammy and it seemed like you also couldn't wipe the smile from your face either. It seemed almost like a dream.

Just then, your phone buzzed and you were pulled from the thoughts of the woman to see that her name was on your screen. You quickly held the phone up to unlock it, suddenly overcome with the need of answering her at a moments notice. Thankfully it was not a message of her changing her mind.

Btw, just call me Tammy. Ms. Tammy is a little formal ;)

You smiled and bit your lip, quickly responding.

Okay, Tammy :)

#oceans 8 #tammy #tammy oceans 8 #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson #sarah paulson fanfic #sarah paulson fic #mini fic

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aimasup · 4 years

Note

Maybe i'm late but, did anyone, like actually have left remus in a small place (for his claustrophobia) for like 4 hours or something just because he did something bad? If yes did anyone just stayed here and heard him suffer? Or actually tried to help him out in secret? Sorry if it is long ^^'

Deceit’s smarmy snake grin never left his confident face. Oh god, Remus was giving him the look. No one ever liked being given the look, something that no Side should ever be subject to, carrying the promise of your emotional vulnerability, a sackful of seeing through your bullshit and a dash of demented purity rivaled only by Patton. And Vir

Deceit cleared his throat, loudly and with purpose. “Well? Go on, Remus.”

Remus rolled his eyes, a childish staple of his that always looked comical. “Oh come on, Nope Rope, you and I both know you spout more shit than a bull with diarrhea after one of your nightmares. So you might as well follow it up with some tea.”

So much wrong had just come out of Remus’ mouth. The man smelled like tonsil stones on a good day yet he still managed to surprise the Sides with horrifying bouts of intellect every now and then. The slimy little bugger.

"Clearly you've remembered what I told you about calling me names."

Remus leaned happily. "Nakey Snakey."

"Remus..."

"Boop Noodle!"

"Remus."

"Dangle Fangle!"

"Remus! Shut up!"

Remus feigned offense. "I'm trying out ones that start with a D!"

"That's not my point! Now distract me with musical ditties as you were instructed, you foul wretch!"

"Slithervester Stallone-!" Remus had time to squeal before Deceit squashed his face with a pillow and snatched the remote. The game was on as if by instinct and Remus tackled him from under the pillow, shrieking muffled. Deceit whacked him on the head, hard, with the remote. Remus was distracted momentarily, so Deceit took the chance and shoved him off of him with more force than necessary, insulting him all the while.

"-you nitwit, you just can't listen, can you, you moron, you bitch, you're so thick-headed, do that again and I swear-"

"You'll what, you'll lock me in the closet?"

All of a sudden, it was like an invisible giant had drowned the room in heavy syrup. The tightness from before returned and Deceit, still breathing hard, glared at Remus with gritted teeth and panicked eyes. The Side was below him, pillow on his chest, grin gone and singlet askew.

That one sentence, although it needed no context to tell who had been on the receiving end of it, brought more distress to the deceitful side than it did to the other, strangely enough. They kept their eyes trained on each other. Neither would admit that they felt like they were breathing molasses and it wasn't sweet. The television had long ago blacked out, a deafening silence following its rather meek departure.

Remus' eyes didn't stop glowing. Deceit's didn't either. None were good signs, but Remus still said, in the rare soft tone his voice could manage at times, "That's the problem, isn't it?"

Deceit swallowed. He turned away and stared at the floor, eyes narrowed to slits. He had put down the remote with controlled harshness on the sofa. He exhaled through his nose and never made eye contact with Remus.

Everyone had their little tics. Remus hated being called scary. Roman was a compulsive perfectionist. Patton had a repression habit. And Thomas didn't want to be a bad person.

Neither did Deceit.

"You know I'm over that, right?"

"... obviously."

That could mean anything, and that wasn't even getting to which part of the question he was answering. Remus bit his tongue. His canines dug into the muscle, and he pulled them out again, breathing in the scent of his own blood. Feeling a bit better, he turned away from Deceit and stared at the black screen of the TV.

"No, really you don't have to worry about it. You worrying about it pisses me off."

Still no response.

"Deceit?" Remus couldn't help but feel a bit concerned at this exchange.

------------------

"Who--who are you?" Fun blurbled at the figure on all fours before him. Fresh tear stains still stained his cheeks, an ear-to-ear smile etched below his eyes.

Something was off. Heart had run away with someone who looked like him, and had left him alone. He'd never do that. He'd always stuck with him through anything, no matter what he said or did. But the look Heart had given him... it was as if he didn't know what to make of him all of a sudden. Less than that, even.

The figure, still cautious and poised to pounce, didn't answer. Its impossibly wide reptilian eyes glowed bright in the dark, illuminating nothing on its entirely pitch black body, and Fun could make out nothing but a few familiar features.

"Are you a--a Side too?"It flinched and hissed at him. Fun found that he didn't duck away from the grotesque mouth that opened too wide. Or more like, there wasn't anything in his head that told him it was gross. He found it cute because it was gross, in fact.

When the brown-rimmed mouth closed, it was as if it was never there. It glared at him through narrowed eyes and spat at his feet.

"Oh."

With all the pure spite radiating off of the thing, it still approached, walking perfectly on its hands and legs. It didn't look clumsy moving like that, and Fun suspected it had always been that way.

"Wh--what are you doing?"Fun tried not to find this tiny demonic thing adorable. Didn't help matters when it planted its face on his sticky, black knee (... huh.) and walked off.

Before Fun could process what just happened, it turned around with the calmest expression and stared. And waited. It wanted him to follow.

As adorable as the thing was, Fun still had his doubts. He didn't want to leave. This was where his friends were. Curious little Learning, sweet as sugar Heart, cowardly yet caring Careful. But he had a feeling they didn't want to see him again.

It broke his heart.

So with a greasy squelch, Fun struggled to his feet and went with the creature.

------------------

"Deceit, you need to stop holding yourself over that. We can't be like the Others."

The further lack of response frustrated Remus. He probably should be trying to comfort Deceit, but that wasn't his type. Tough lo--learning would have to do, it was how it always went. They couldn't afford to be wishy-washy with stuff like feelings.

"Deceit, if you don't stop feeling bad about it I'm gonna smack the shit out of you. With my bare hands. And this morning star."

"Aren't you trying too hard not to be Roman?"

Remus slammed his weapon into the pillow. "Well I think you're trying too hard to be Patton!"

"Wouldn't you think Virgil would have wanted that?" Deceit was weary. Remus breathed in sharply through his teeth and stuttered.

"What?"

"It's clear we weren't the best to him. It's not his fault he left. It was for the best. He needs better than us. He deserves better than us."

"What the fuck!" Remus threw up his hands. "What the fuck, Deceit! What happened to being your own person? What happened to not giving a shit about living up to anyone's standards?! You don't know what you're talking about, because you're tired, and you're just a hypocrite who was never able to see past your own horseshit!"

"I know."

Remus wanted to rip his hair out. Deceit's or his own, he didn't really care. "Jesus Christ! Ugh!"

He flumped into a pillow and screamed into it.

Deceit watched him.

------------------

"You know, it's kinda weird how you don't wanna be called a Side, you know? Like, you look like Heart, and we all know that Heart looks the most like Thomas. So you gotta be pretty important. If you look the most like Thomas. Next to Heart. You know what I'm saying?"

It was still silent. The quiet walk down the tattered corridor had been awkward, and now that they were up the stairs and in some padded room that was probably the creature's, Fun tried to fill the silence as the creature studied him. It prowled around Fun as he sat cross legged on the floor, leaking tar all over the place.

"And, well, Learning is super important too. And Careful. We're all super important." It brushed by his shoulder and stared at his back with interest for a good two seconds before sitting back on its haunches.

"But Learning only looks the second most like Thomas. Careful just likes his hair to be all dangly. Though he clips it back sometimes to fit in? I think? I dunno."

"Anyways, I just thought that maybe once we're done here, with." Fun looked at the creature. "Whatever this is. I could bring you back with me to the others! I just got rid of the bad stuff in me, and once I get all cleaned up, and you too, we'll be all okay again!"

The creature stopped prodding at his back and he could feel it staring into nothing. Fun couldn't help but note the lack of breath on his neck. Either it gave up trying to appear human a long time ago or it was just that short. He giggled at the thought.

But that faded away when he started feeling slight concern. It was too silent. He hated silence. Fun turned to look over his shoulder, then shuffled his body around to peer at the creature, who was now deep in thought.

"Hey bud? What's wrong with ya? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled. "I've heard that from Learning and Heart a lot. You're gonna love em. They'll help you lighten up! Trust me, we've been through lots together, they'll like you too!"

It lifted its head up and fixated him with the saddest stare anyone could give a Side. Fun felt his excitement at meeting a new friend weather away when he felt that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

A thin line of brown appeared, and widened. It's eyes darted here and there with consideration. It was choosing its words. Fun titled his head as it strained to force out words.

"Not."

"Uh. Huh? You can talk!"

"Fun."

"Wait, what are you saying?"

It bounced in place with clear frustration. After clutching its head and shaking it, it tried again.

"You. Not." It tried once more. "You. Not! You! Not! Fun!"

Fun withered under its glare, a little hurt. "I'm not fun to be with? I'm sorry, uh-"

"No!"

Fun's heart ached for the thing, confused and intrigued. All of them learned how to speak along with Thomas. How was it that this Side didn't?

"Gone."

"..."

"Fun. Gone."

"I really don't understand."

"Fun." It drew a capital F in the air. He nodded, a little less lost. It nodded too.

"Fun. Split. Gone. You. Green. Half. Heart. You. Red. Half. You." It was closer now. It stuck a finger onto Fun's chest, sorrowful expression looking like it was supposed to be welling up with tears. Its jaw trembled. "Half. Bad. Half."

"Not. Their. Fun."

Fun wasn't so sure about anything anymore. He understood it perfectly, he just really didn't want to. "You can't be serious."

It was. It looked as if it has never been more certain of anything in its life. It lowered its head.

Panic gripped him like no other and his mind began racing. He gestured wildly.

"Then--then who's that other half?! They can't go on without Fun! Thomas can't go on without Fun!" The partial emptiness that he'd been trying to ignore a long time ago had grown more apparent as he ranted. "I can't let that happen! What will they do?"

Half. Bad. Half.

It struck. 'Fun' felt his chest drop to his stomach. "They. I'm the bad half."

The creature was still as a statue."They--they think--they think the red me is--is Fun, they, Learning, Careful, H-Heart--they don't know me."

The black and green outfitted grease blob blubbered on. "It's--it's not fair! I know them! I drew pictures with Thomas, I came up with our names, I--I'm--I know what Fun knows!"

He desperately turned to the creature in front of him. "They can't do this! I-if the other me is Fun, then I'm Fun too! I'm still Fun! I still know them! I still love them! At the very least, I'm still one of Thomas' Sides!" The creature silently stared as he kept talking, as his words blurred together with cries of anguish, as he put his forehead to the floor, bunching his sash in his hands. All tears had run out earlier, and there were only bawls of despair that dissolved into whimpers.

The humanoid grease blob didn't know what to call himself anymore. But it still wasn't fair at all. The truth was that. They thought that their Fun had returned from the battle, sword held high and rid of the beast. To them, Fun was better than ever.

But what was he?

------------------

"When you explained in your dumb loophole way that my stupid ass brother wasn't me, it was the first time you had advice you didn't follow, did you?"

"Remus, you can't pretend you don't feel the same."

"Fuck off!" Remus groaned. "I'm not pretending for anything, Dee, I've said it multiple times, I have nothing I want to hide! But you can't be serious about wanting to be like Patton!"

Deceit pondered his answer. "I may or may not have considered it."

Remus let go of Deceit's shirt slowly. He still fixated him with fierce angry eyes as his fingers loosened, setting the smaller Side down a little. So he didn't actually think it. Just a passing thought. Okay then.

Deceit straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles in his outfit. And he was back to looking sullenly at the a spot on the carpet.

Remus swallowed. God, this was harder than it needed to be. He wondered if this was how Deceit felt when he was younger, rawer in his state, unable to speak in anything but opposites. He didn't have to teach Deceit how to not speak in opposites, because the more they raised each other, the more Deceit's black scales had resided and his speech freedom loosened up.

They always talked it out, they always had to stick close. So why was it so hard now?

------------------

The squeal of unbridled joy when it was introduced to noir films, the long bath chases, the practice with his creations and tentacles, the nights spent splayed out messily on the same bed after a nightmare. It was simple. So simple.

------------------

Deceit could feel the stare from Remus leaving him. God, if that moron tried to comfort him now he was going to explode. His eye would leak tears like a broken faucet and he would be a pathetic blubbering mess, and Remus would have blackmail until the day Thomas finally died.

He swore he could feel the long exhale and mutterings as Remus thought on what to say. He really didn't care, in the end. Deceit wanted nothing more than to do his job and think nothing of anything ever again. He didnt--

"Virgil's gone, and there's nothing we can or could do about it. Because of how we are. It's jackshit to say we can change our nature. Nothing. Nada. Zero." Firm hands with black acrylics gripped his shoulder and turned his tired eyes onto Remus' own.

"Feeling sorry for yourself won't change anything. Things happen, jackoff."

Deceit's breath hitched, but he didn't quite feel like crying, oddly enough. Strange that through gritted teeth and eyes that could gleam death to anyone who doesn't know Remus well, he felt more clarification than all his thoughts combined. His mind had chanted a mantra of things his whole life, and what Remus said was only one of them. Deceit had been hoping to finally hear them from an outside source. But somehow, someway, Remus had found a way to make this line of reasoning sound less harsh.

Unpredictable as always.

"Remus. I.."

He placed his hands gently on Remus' wrists, patted twice. Remus let go and studied him, an air of sternness and also nervousness apparent in his face. They simmered in the unsaid apology, sitting on the couch in their lonely, mangy living room, like it was a vague yet satisfactory ending to a movie. That was how all their arguments would usually end, but it was rarely in any way fulfilling.

Deceit thought on it. Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, he choked out a laugh. "God, we're such a mess."

Glad the tension was broken, Remus smiled, ugly shark teeth in full view. "Yeah we are. We're the Mindscape's dumpster fires."

They were delirious with more emotion than they experienced on a daily basis, and they both chortle along to Remus' weak joke. Jesus, if you could lose fat due to mental work as well as physical, Thomas would be underweight by now.

Remus shook his head. "Honestly, you can't think too much about it. Just think of all the times we battered each other in this place, and you'll feel better about the closet thing."

Deceit snorted. "How is it that I'm more affected by it than you? Like all the times you ripped out my hair."

"Or all the times you silenced us whenever you felt like it."

"Or all those times you slammed me in to a hard surface."

"Remember that one time you left me in the closet for a week?"

"I still remember how I silenced Virgil for a month."

Remus snapped his fingers. "Yeah, Virgil, I remember how many times he gave us hallucinations. Sometimes he'd give us panic attacks for the hell of it!" He laughed.

"He was always quite the hothead."

"That's not even counting his stabs. Not just with a knife."

"Knowing you, that could mean anything."

Remus swooshed his hands in a rainbow-shaped gesture gleefully."Oooooh, whatever you want it to mean!" The joke was lacking and childish, but Remus' delivery was so goofy.

Deceit chuckled, back of his hand pressed daintily to his mouth as always. Remus giggled in short bursts of high-pitched derangement along with him.

Then it dissolved into awkward silence as they pondered their situation, up at ass o' clock in the morning, sprawled over the couch in undignified manners, dim light flickering because they were too depressed to fix it, talking about unreasonable hostile behavior so casually like they were fond memories of family vacations.

"... let's go make breakfast."

"Okay, Caution Ramen."

"I'm sorry?"

"Hazard Spaghetti. Murder Spagurder."

"...what."

"Judgemental Shoelace."

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

------------------

"No! Get away!" The sobbing figure cowered away from the green and yellow-tinted Sides, if you could call them that.

Bad Thoughts put his hands out. "Woah, woah, hey, we won't hurt you! Much."

Deceit slapped Bad Thoughts as the Side, who was slowly fading into a full black and purple from the legs up, put his hands in his hair and screamed louder. "Shut up! Go away! I'm sorry! Please! I hate you! Go away!"

"Well that's a lot of mixed signals." Bad Thoughts muttered. Careful looked a lot different from what he had remembered. He was seeming more tired and grievous. A faint spark of recognition flashed across Careful's eyes when he peeked up at him, but ducked away when Bad Thoughts stretched the arm with his morning star.

Without a word, Deceit knelt down and wrapped his arms around Careful. He flinched, but he stopped sobbing at least. He was still breathing hard when BT decided to join in, planting himself as softly as he knew how to on Caution.

"You're okay," Deceit murmured. "You're alright. You won't hurt anyone. You won't do that."

Caution hiccupped, staring at the ceiling, eyes brimming with angry tears. He hissed though gritted teeth."How--how do you know? You don't understand, I cause so many problems--"

"Yeah, we do. We know that. But that's you." Remus said. "Who cares if you do? Causing problems is what we do around here. You can't blame yourself for doing what you do best."

Caution was still dubious. He was sniffling. Slowly, he put his arms on Deceit's back. "I don't want to make more trouble."

Deceit lowered his head onto his shoulder. "Just come with us. We cause trouble, but whether you want to do that is up to you."

The black was receding, but the purple still lingered a little. All four of Caution's eyes blinked.

Remus pulled away, leaving only his hand on Careful's shoulder. His old friend, who didn't know who he was, who was meeting him for the first time. "Besides, I don't think you meant to cause that breakdown."

Caution finally turned and looked, actually looked at him for the first time since they were children. "You don't?"

"Nope!"

The purple color was down to his knees again. The black was gone.

"But," Caution started, both Sides pulling back to give him space. "But, it was so unnecessary, and--and the whole damn class was watching, and the other sides were freaked out-"

"Yeah, so? It was cool! Don't you think it's some way of letting everyone know that Thomas was upset? Things were getting hairy and you pulled it off perfectly." Remus gave an exaggerated chef's kiss in the air.

"That power is something only you hold, storm cloud." Deceit said. "Like Remus said, it's who you are. It was quite the display."

Caution eyed them suspiciously. "Yeah, well, you guys would think so."

"Don't you see? If you come with us, you can learn to control that! You can choose your own rules, you can choose when you want to have influence over Thomas!" Deceit lowered his voice. "You can protect Thomas by forcing the others to hear how much you try."

Caution didn't make eye contact, finding it difficult when two people stared at once. But he was thinking about it, clearly. The others had been trying to ignore him lately, and no one had to be a genius to figure that out. The rise and fall of his chest grew a little quicker as he realized how unfair it was that he was just trying to be a Side, and Thomas didn't care. The spite and betrayal was evident in his eyes, the same that had plagued Bad Thoughts and Deceit so many times in their childhood.

It was decided.

He looked up with grim determination. "C-call me Fear."

Previous parts here and here

Claustrophobic Remus post here

2K notes · View notes

wtf-yoongi · 4 years

Text

Plain sight. / KTH

pairing | taehyung x reader

summary | taehyung just wants to be loved (and love is right under his nose)

genre/warnings | fluff + a lil bit of angst?

words | 1,999

note | requested by the lovely 💜💜💜 anon (full request at the end!) sorry for taking the longest time. i’m such a lazy writer

Taehyung is sulking.

The man is sitting on the farthest seat of the comfy sofa, hand clutching his phone tightly as if it could grow wings and fly away at any second. The TV isn’t on, but he’s looking at the screen intently, brows just slightly furrowed in deep thought.

What he is thinking about, though… That’s still a mystery to you.

You have tried to guess whatever is bothering him for — at the very least — half an hour now, but got to no conclusion. Taehyung just sits there, legs crossed and body barely moving except for the rise and fall of his chest, not bothered by your stares or Yeontan’s little wiggles.

How could he after the invitation he got through the mail this morning?

A freaking wedding invitation. His youngest cousin is getting married. The youngest. Why does it have to be the youngest?

Taehyung has reminded himself time and time again that his moment would come. The thing that he feels like is missing so badly in his life would eventually come. There’s no need to rush, no need to worry or stress over this.

Until that pretty envelope came in. Delicate piece of expensive paper, fancy handwriting and all. He is sure someone sprayed perfume on it because the thing even smells good.

Honestly — why does it have to be the youngest one?

What bothers him the most, though, is that he is supposed to be happy for him — and Taehyung, don’t get him wrong, is. His cousin has found someone with whom he wishes to share his life with, who will be there no matter what, will support his decisions and bring his feet down to earth when needed. Someone who will make him eat his veggies and all.

But damn. Taehyung wants that too. He wants to be Loved.

Yes, Loved, with capital L. Not the sort of love you get from you mom — although that is great as well —, but the Love you see in cheesy movies, the Love people talk about in songs, the Love that makes you do irrational things. Taehyung wants all of that. He wants to do irrational things too.

Is that too much to ask?

Too bad you have no idea of what’s going on inside his head. You would be the first to tell him that no, it isn’t too much to ask. Taehyung just needs to realize what’s right in front of him. Right under his nose.

It’s right here, right now. All the capital-L-love he wants. All the love he will ever need. All the love you think is silly and unrequited. Everything you feel the urge to hide as best as you can. The reason why it’s a beautiful and sunny Saturday afternoon and you’re happy to be in Taehyung’s apartment instead of enjoying it outside — just because his mom asked you to make sure he doesn’t sleep until three in the afternoon while she’s on vacation with his father.

You could’ve accepted your friend’s invitation to take a walk after lunch. You could’ve just called Taehyung to make sure he was awake and had something to eat and be okay with it. Except you couldn’t — you had to come by, you had to stop at the convenience store to get something he likes, you had to use your spare key to open the door because Taehyung was, in fact, still sleeping.

What is there to hide? It’s all in plain sight. Taehyung is the only one who can’t see it.

He had gone back to bed after breakfast — he said it emotionlessly right after you asked him if he had eaten anything today. When you arrived, Taehyung already looked a bit displeased, replacing the usual smile and warm hug he welcomes you with for a frown and a cold stare. He didn’t crack even when he saw the treats you had bought, saying thanks in a low voice. At least you can say it isn’t your fault — or at least you can guess so.

To pass the time, you try to keep your hands busy in the kitchen, cleaning up counters and emptying the dishwasher even though no one asked you to do so. Deep down, you know you don’t want to go so soon — even if your friend isn’t the greatest of hosts right now, being here is still somewhat calming. The silence coming from Tae is definitely better than the silence coming from the walls of your apartment.

But enough is enough. You need to know what’s going on inside his head — and not just because you’re curious. Most of all, you want to help. What if it’s something serious? What if it’s something to do with work? You may not be able to do much, but getting it out would surely help, right?

You call his name, raising your voice a little for him to hear you from the living room, but he doesn’t even move a finger. Taehyung seems to be inside of a bubble, protected by a layer of annoyance that not many people would dare to pop. A long exhale comes out of your lips — it may hurt, but you need to know.

As you walk towards his sitting figure, Yeontan — definitely not oblivious to the fact something’s not right — follows you with pleading eyes. He asks you to raise his little body to the couch when you sit and your hands accommodate him between yours and Taehyung’s legs.

Even then, the man doesn’t seem to notice you’re so close. You call his name again. “Taehyung… Come on, you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

That’s when he snaps out of it.

“I’m okay,” he says calmly and nods, but his eyes don’t connect with yours like they usually do and you know he’s lying to protect himself. You don’t like it — he shouldn’t feel the need to do that with you. “I’m just thinking.”

“Okay, then,” you concede, relaxing your stance. Yeontan promptly jumps on you belly. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

It takes Taehyung a few moments to collect his thoughts and you wonder if he’s considering telling you the whole story of just half of it. You try not to think about the worst, about the things that would break your heart, but your mind immediately moves in that direction.

All of a sudden, Tae is turning his body to yours, crossed legs now facing you. He doesn’t speak fast, but you notice — gladly — it is unfiltered. It just comes out of his mouth in long phrases, calm and somewhat frustrated, as if he’s on the brink of giving up.

“Have you ever watched one of those romantic movies that are so gross… The sort of thing you watch and think oh, god, this is disgusting or this thing would never happen in real life or something like that?”

Taehyung just gives you enough time to nod.

“Is it so crazy that my brain has been programmed by these movies and tv shows that are oh-so-delusional and now I’m delusional too? Like, I swear to God, I want to take someone for a walk in the park with Yeontan and have ice cream and sit on a bench and giggle quietly while trying to hide my face from people passing by because I’m way too shy about it.”

And I hate the idea that there’s a possibility that I’ll never be able to do it and it’s completely out of my control because it may happen that destiny doesn’t think I deserve to love someone so much, so much it hurts me physically… But, you know, not in the unhealthy way. I mean in the I’m gonna watch her become one of the greatest people in this world and I’m going to be there when she needs me and I’ll be cheering her on way, you know? Please, don’t get me wrong. I’m not the controlling type and I never want to be that, no.”

And just this morning I got a wedding invitation that made me rethink all of those things and, I don’t know, don’t you think by now I should’ve at the very least fallen in love with someone? And I don’t even mean successfully — I mean at all. All my friends have had somewhat serious relationships and now even my youngest cousin is getting married. I’m happy for him, I am, but I can’t stop thinking about the possibility of it never happening to me. Does that make any sense?”

It takes a while for your brain to process all of that and, most importantly, to separate your role as a friend and your want for something more. You take a deep breath before finally looking up to him, heart breaking as you rational side takes over. “Okay. It makes sense, I get what you’re saying.”

“You do?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “Don’t you think it’s weird my twenties are more than halfway gone and I’ve never fallen in love with anyone?”

Your heart breaks a little further with the way there’s so much hope in his eyes. Honestly, not even in your worst nightmares you’d have to go through this sort of conversation with Taehyung — and certainly not while struggling to keep a straight face. You feel tired already from trying so hard, as if your energy has been drained in a second.

Surprisingly, your voice comes out somewhat stable.

“But that’s the thing, Tae. You can’t force this, it happens. And just because it hasn’t happened up until now, it doesn’t mean that it will never,” you add, diverting your gaze to the small dog on your lap. Such a great excuse not to look into Taehyung’s eyes — you wonder if he’ll notice anything when you say your next words. “Also, falling in love isn’t always great. You said you wanted it even if it was unsuccessful, but it hurts, you know?”

“So you have fallen in love?”

“I am in love right now.” You wish you hadn’t answered so promptly. You can’t believe you’re confessing or the words that come out of your mouth next. “And he doesn’t know it and I can’t build enough courage to tell him because I don’t want to lose him over some stupid thing like unrequited love. I just want him in my life, even if it’s not like that… What I’m trying to say is that the movies make it look simple and easy, but it isn’t. Most of the time people just get hurt.”

You’re not looking, but you know from the way Taehyung moves his hands that his eyes aren’t so hopeful anymore. Inside, you’re not just broken from having to keep a mask on while saying all of that, but also for being the one to bring him down so harshly. You wonder if you should’ve toned it down a little, but it’s too late now.

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” Taehyung says, slowly and carefully, after a few moments. “What I mean by unsuccessful is not spending the rest of your life with this person. I still want to take them for a walk and have ice cream, at least.”

A laugh escapes your lips — desperate, but thankful for the kindness in his heart. “Fair enough. You want to fall in love and you want them to fall in love too. Even if it’s not forever.”

“Exactly. That’s what I want.”

“Okay. Just…” Your voice falters. There’s a hand clenching your heart tightly as you finish your sentence. “Don’t think about it too much, it will happen when the time is right.”

“Ah, I wonder if I’ll be able to notice it, you know? When I finally fall in love with someone… When they fall in love with me.”

It takes all of you for your last words to come out in a single breath.

“It’s hard to see something when you don’t know what you’re looking for.”