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hannie-dul-set · 10 months

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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [4].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. general menace behavior, swearing, too much mentions of kissing and making out, it's beomgyu's turn to have a mental breakdown. WORD COUNT. 3.6k.

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @captivq @tocupid @seosalad @ddazed-lhs @gyuszie @mifuyuyo @error-cant-function @twocupsofsuga @flowerbe0m @dangerousconnoisseurbanana @laviesm @keikeu @elavin @chaemmie @rikisly

NOTE. the chapter title is clickbait, actually. anyway, it's the beomgyu chapter! this one is for both the e2l enjoyers and haters!! hope you enjoy whatever the fuck this is!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 4 — kisses? kisses.

IT’S NOT OFTEN THAT YOU GET TO STAY AT HOME FOR AN ENTIRE DAY. Supposedly, you and your friends had plans for the beach, but due to some circumstances that included one of their cars breaking down, it had to be canceled. You send an “Oh no, that’s too bad. Sad face. Sad face,” through text before punching your fist into the air in celebration and jumping back into the warm, welcoming embrace of your bedsheets, practically melting into the mattress.

Your plan is to stay in bed the whole day. Until you get hungry, so you force yourself out of your blankets and zombie-walk all the way down to the kitchen where you uncharacteristically find Soobin tinkering with the oven. He’s usually holed up in his room doing god knows what, so you’re curious to see what he’s up to.

You clear your throat to indicate your arrival. “Hey.” Your voice causes him to drop the tray a little too early onto the counter. “What’s that?”

“Oh, um. I was baking a little.” You’ve come to discover that Soobin can only talk to you when he’s not looking at you, so you say nothing when he focuses his gaze on the rather delicious looking arrangement of chocolate chip cookies on the tray instead of maintaining eye contact with you. “Y—you can have some— ah, careful! It’s still hot.”

It is still hot but it also tastes really fucking good. The cookie crumbles in your mouth and your eyes sparkle as you shoot him a thumbs up of approval. “Whoa. You can sell these.”

Soobin keeps his head down, but his pink ears are on full display. It’s cute. He lets you snack on as many cookies as you want and unties his equally pink apron. “Ah. I forgot.” You stop munching on the third cookie and raise a curious brow. His voice is hesitant when he says, “I have to leave for an appointment, but the cookies haven’t cooled yet so I can’t store them in the pantry yet.”

“You can leave it to me. Go do your thing.”

“Then...excuse me.”

He takes out the rest of the trays from the oven before shuffling off. Not long after, Heeseung’s nose pokes through the kitchen, beckoned by the scent of the freshly baked goods. “Soobin made them,” you show off on his behalf. He stuffs a bite into his cheeks before leaving. Apparently he also has somewhere to be.

It’s like Soobin’s cookies are luring them all down. Jake rushes down and wordlessly grabs a bunch before running out the door, saying that he’s late for his flight or something. Sunghoon shows up next, asking if you slept well last night as he picks out once from the batch, and your heart swells with tender pride at his attempt to strike a conversation. They grow up so fast. “Take care,” you bid him goodbye. He nods and heads out for his shift at The Lounge.

Jay also comes down for the cookies. “Got any plans today, champ?” he asks.

“Absolutely nothing at all.”

“Cool beans.”

“Very cool.” You push the tray towards him. He steals another bite. “Where are you headed?”

“Some lecture about fabrics. I heard they’ll be giving out some very nice gingham for participants at the end.” You can barely catch what he’s saying with the cookie wedged between his teeth as he pulls on his coat, but you tell him to have fun and, like the rest, watch as he leaves the house.

By the time it grows quiet, there are only five cookies left on the tray and you’re relieved Soobin had made more than one batch. It’d be a shame if he couldn’t even taste his own cooking. You carefully throw them all into a container, but pause upon realizing that Beomgyu is the only one who hasn’t come down, so he also hasn’t tried them yet.

He isn’t exactly your favorite resident. And although you aren’t particularly fond of Beomgyu, you also don’t want to spend the rest of your stay here with any bad blood with any of the boys. So you fish out a few pieces from the container and carefully arrange them on a nice looking plate. You even pour a glass of orange juice for him. Acting like a dumb little housewife for a guy you don’t even like a lot sure hurts your fucking pride, but you want to shove your sincerity up Choi Beomgyu’s ass until it forces him to be nice to you.

You’re extra careful when you climb up the stairs, hands full with the snack you prepared. It poses a struggle when you have to knock on the door, so you call out his name instead and hope for a response.

“It’s open— fucking piece of shit. You useless son of a fuck!”

Well, that doesn’t sound very inviting.

But you invite yourself in anyway because after clearing things up with Sunghoon, you feel like you can conquer everyone else with ease. You’re overconfident. That was your first mistake.

The moment you crack open the door, your ears are attacked by aggressive keyboard noises and Beomgyu is hunched over in front of his monitor— three monitors, actually. You’re scared he’s about to destroy the computer with how rough he’s smashing every key, but he leans back not long after with an annoyed grunt and starts clicking things on the screen. “What do you want?” he asks without looking at you. It’s starting to rise, your blood pressure. You hope you last until the end of this exchange.

“Soobin baked cookies. I’m here to bring you some.”

He pulls down his headphones to his neck and the chair swivels to face you. An awfully aggravating move which is only exacerbated when Beomgyu’s eyes land on your offering and he stifles out a scoff. “Why? You trying to act like my wife, or some shit?”

You know what, fuck this, you’re not dealing with his ass.

“I’d rather kill myself than be your stupid fucking wife.” The desire to pour the sweet, sweet glass of orange all over his gaming setup nearly overtakes you, but you’re sensible enough. You settle with pouring it on his head instead. “Enjoy your drink, asshole.”

Maybe that was overkill, but you’re mad and sometimes you do impulsive shit (case in point, chasing down Sunghoon to his workplace). You would’ve smashed the plate on his face too, but Soobin’s cookies are too precious for that so you keep them intact when you stomp out his room, slamming the door shut in the process. It’s a good thing the rest of the guys are out of the house because the visual of you angrily marching into the kitchen and stuffing the rest of the cookies into the tupperware with a tightly knitted frown would definitely rouse some questions, and you can’t guarantee answering those questions nicely and possibly making a few of them cry (again).

The pantry door swings open and shut with a harsh noise when you enter to store Soobin’s baked goods. You place them next to the loaves of packaged bread on the middle shelf before letting out a heavy sigh. Beomgyu has ruined your day of relaxation and the only way to fix it is a good nap.

Unfortunately for you, that won’t be possible anymore. Unless you don’t mind napping in the dark recluse of your home pantry because when you attempt to pull open the door— it won’t budge.

Oh no. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

The door is stuck. You’re stuck. You have no one to blame but Choi Beomgyu.

Having an orange juice shower wasn’t part of Beomgyu’s calculations.

In fact, he wasn’t exactly calculating anything. He just spat out the first sentence that popped in his head and it ended up in a citrus-scented disaster. Maybe he should start using his head more the next time he has a conversation with you. That is if you still want to have anything to do with him. Beomgyu may have a dumb mouth, but he isn’t blind or stupid. He knows you don’t like him, and that might be his fault entirely.

Shit, this better not ruin my hair, he thinks as he runs his head under the bathroom sink, rinsing out the sugar from his roots but his shirt still smells of orange juice even after he’s finished drying up, yet he can’t be bothered to get a change of clothes so he just returns to his already ruined game of Counter Strike with a groan.

It’s not that Beomgyu hates you. In fact, he thinks you’re really cool and funny, but he’s emotionally constipated so he masks his chronic rizzlessness by being a massive douche. It doesn’t help that you sound really hot when you tell him to fuck off or swear at his general direction. The problem is, he can’t really tell you that, so he continues being a prick and picking fights with you whenever he can. Aren’t girls supposed to be into that crap? Beomgyu doesn’t watch a lot of romance films, but he’s seen how people thirst over Mr. Darcy. His Twitch chat also goes crazy when he swears on stream, and last time he checked a good chunk of his viewership are women.

He’s sure he was on the right track. Until today— because that look on your face before you stomped out of the room was less hot-scary and more scary-scary. It haunts his mind as he plays another round with Yeonjun and the others, a ghost behind his eyelids. They’re yelling at him to get his shit together through the voice chat and that’s when he knows he needs to step out his room to get a breather.

Somehow, his feet lead him down to the kitchen instead of the covered deck. And his eyes are searching for your pissed off expression instead of the Red Bull his tongue is craving.

Must be in her room, he thinks. Cold air hits his face when he hooks out the energy drink from the fridge. Now that he thinks about it, it’s oddly quiet in the house. Usually, there’d at least be screaming or noise from Jake’s shitty relaxation playlist, but it’s dead silent right now.

Beomgyu prods around the island, looking for the Soobin cookies you mentioned. The only sign he has of their existence are the crumbs on the three trays splayed out in the sink.

Crash!

Okay, what the hell was that?

Thud.

It’s coming from the pantry. The fuck, is this house haunted?

Now, Beomgyu doesn’t get scared of shit. He makes his entire living from not batting an eye at video game jumpscares, so this is nothing.

Thunk.

But if it’s his own house that’s haunted, he’s not gonna let the chance of kicking ghost ass slip through his fingers. The only reasonable thing to do is to kick the pantry door open.

So he kicks the pantry door open and bulldozes in.

“Wait, don’t leave the door—”

Slam!

It shuts behind him, depleting all the light in the room. He’s shocked to see you instead of a transparent old man from the 1800s. “Great,” you huff. “Now we’re both stuck here.” You’re the ghost. You’ve been the ghost this whole time.

Beomgyu turns around and rattles the door knob, but the door doesn’t budge. “It’s useless,” he hears you say from behind. His arm deflates to the side and he slumps, defeated. “Do you have your phone with you?”

“No. It’s in my room.”

“Well damn,” you flatly say. “Guess we gotta wait until one of the boys arrives.”

He turns back to face you, eyes narrowed in both suspicion and curiosity because what the fuck could you have been doing in here alone that made so much noise. “Hey, I know you hate me, but you don’t need to look so disgusted.” He isn’t disgusted. He’s about to lose his fucking mind because what’s the point of having a giant ass mansion when the pantry is so, so goddamned tiny that he can practically feel your body heat seeping into his own skin?

One more step closer and he’d be practically pressed up all over you. It’s a good thing you decide to sink down and tuck yourself as close to the back shelf as possible, pressing your knees to your chest as you look up at him with unmistakable annoyance. “Sit down. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“I don’t hate you,” he obliges your suggestion, mimicking your position against the jammed door.

“I’m not stupid. You’ve been a bitch to me the moment I stepped into this house.”

“Well, I fucking don’t. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Sure.” You wrinkle your nose. “And I’m absolutely elated by the fact that I have to be stuck with you here for the next two, three hours.”

Now, you don’t need to rub it in his face that you can’t stand him. Looks like that bet prize is as good as out of reach, but at this point he doesn’t really care anymore— undoing his fuckups is the more pressing issue at hand. His throat is dry and burning when he attempts to swallow, but nearly chokes on his spit when the particularly malicious death stare you’re giving him falls into his attention. Maybe he should say something. “Do you really think I hate you?”

“Well,” you cross your arms. “I’m at the very least sure you don’t like me.”

How does he fix this? There’s no tutorial or cheat code for this kind of situation. He’s stumped, he’s totally stumped. “Isn’t like— isn’t enemies to lovers supposed to be a popular trope?”

Something tells him he made the wrong move with how your glare suddenly softens and becomes drenched in pity. He doesn’t like that. He prefers it when you look at him like you want to stab a knife into his gut and twist it counterclockwise. “I don’t know which bastard lied to you, but acting like a stuck-up asshole doesn’t fly in real life, buddy.”

Beomgyu lets your words sink in before slowly uttering, “It…it does not?”

“No. No, it does not,” you confirm. A beat of silence. “Beomgyu, do you have a crush on me?”

The thing about small, locked places is that he can’t run away. Beomgyu wants to run away. He can’t do that. So he swears at you instead. “Fuck off.” You have deemed his enemies to love strategy futile, but you’ve backed him in a corner (literally), so he has no idea what to do. Distraction— a distraction would be nice to ward off the rising heat in his cheeks and the scent of fresh orange wafting into his senses that awfully reminds him of your disdain. There’s a stash of kisses chocolates he’s been raiding on the shelves somewhere. Chocolates are always good for stress, and he’s very fucking stressed right now.

“What are you doing?” you ask, following up your curious glances by standing up and digging your nose a little too close into his business as he fishes out a piece of chocolate hidden behind the stack of spices. A gasp rips out from your throat. “You bitch! You’re the one who’s been stealing my kisses!”

Beomgyu winces and nearly chokes on the sweet. “If you put it like that, people are going to get the wrong fucking idea.”

“What people? There’s no one else here,” you sass, arms crossed with a particularly grated expression. “But alright. I’ll let it slide. Give me a kiss, I think my blood pressure is rising.”

“Quit saying it like that,” he grunts, dropping three pieces onto your open palm.

You tear one open, carefully placing the chocolate in your mouth. “Speaking of making out.” No one said anything about making out, you’re driving him absolutely nuts. “This sorta feels like we’re back in high school playing seven minutes in heaven.” You pause, chewing on another piece. “Except I’m pretty sure it’s been way longer than seven minutes. Fuck. When are the others coming back?”

It’s like a flip switched after admitting to not hating you. You’ve stopped glaring at him and instead reserved yourself to looking at him like he’s some sort of sick puppy you’ve decided to take in. Like now— lips slightly pursed, brows slightly knitted, and it makes him want to bang his head against the door because bleeding from a self-inflicted concussion would hurt his pride less than being on the receiving end of your pity. “You’ve never played seven minutes in heaven before?” Your tone is so soft, it kills him.

“Why would I want to play that stupid game?”

“Hey, don’t slander my high school memories! That’s how I got my first kiss.” Again with the goddamned kisses, fuck at this point you’re doing it on purpose. Beomgyu refuses to look at you, grumbling unintelligible complaints under his breath. The chocolate tastes too sweet on his tongue and it’s making him nauseous. “Don’t tell me...you’ve never had your first—”

“What the fuck is up with you and kisses, seriously what the fuck are you trying to—”

He finally snaps, but quickly quells his outburst. It’s all your fault. You’re riling him up on purpose. When he thinks you’d snap at him back like usual, you don’t. Instead you continue looking at him with that unusual softened expression. “It’s alright, Beomgyu. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He wants to kill himself. “Wanna kiss?”

His shoulders slacken. He gives up. There’s no way he can win against the impenetrable force that is you. “No, you can have your stupid chocolate all to yourself,” he huffs, scrunching himself up further on the ground.

“I’m not talking about the chocolate. I’m asking if you wanna make out.”

What the fuck.

What the fuck are you saying right now?

“It’s gonna take a while for us to get out of here and it’s not like we have anything better to do.” You throw another kiss into your mouth and you’re talking so nonchalantly like you just asked him to pass the salt, to open the fridge door— not to engage in something totally non-friendly, non-platonic, toeing the line of propriety. Does Jake know your level of insanity when he suggested you live with them? Is Jake aware that you just casually ask people to exchange spit with you and die? “Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m just giving you the opportunity to experience the two things you have yet to experience. Totally up to you, buddy.”

How could you ask to kiss and call him buddy in the same breath? Beomgyu is convinced you’re not normal, but that should’ve been evident with how much your very presence tortures them every single god damned day.

He says something. He’s sure he says something, but it leaves his mouth before he could register them and the consequences of his impulsivity arrive when you’re suddenly a lot closer than he remembers and his brain jumps ship and he’s panicking. He panics when your fist crumples his orange-stained collar. He panics because he’s never kissed anyone before so what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

Shit, he really didn’t think this through. Holy fuck, you’re actually serious, you’re actually about to kiss him.

“Did you say the cookies are in the pantry? I’m gonna get— oh shit, this thing is stuck.”

The door rattles. Alarm bells ring. Beomgyu pushes you off in a panic and a loaf of bread falls to the floor when you bump against the rack. Warm light spills into the tiny storage. He can clearly see the ruffled expression you’re wearing.

“Well. These aren’t cookies.”

He snaps his head up to see Heeseung standing at the foot of the entrance, clearly confused and alarmed by the unusual scene in the pantry. Soobin’s head pops in as well. You’re rubbing the back of your head when you spring up to your feet. “Holy shit, thank god. I thought we’d be stuck there for much longer.”

Huh.

“What happened?” Heeseung trails behind you as you leave.

“Stored the cookies and got trapped in the process. Beomgyu tried helping and failed. Jake needs to fix that fucking door.”

It was so easy for you to leave him behind after the mess you’ve made. Soobin offers to help him up, but Beomgyu’s mood has already soured beyond salvation so he ignores the outstretched arm and shovels himself up with a grunt and quickly catches up to you— you, who’s already sitting on the island and enjoyed your freedom with a box of macarons Heeseung brought. You, who’s nonchalantly offering him the powder pink dessert that probably looks like his very own reflection.

“Want some?” you ask, mouth full. He stares at the crumbs near your lips. It pisses him off. “They’re really good.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

You furrow your brows. “Are you upset because we didn’t get to—”

“I said don’t talk to me.”

He’s not upset. He’s not. He is. He’s not. Maybe he is but that’s not the fucking point here. The point is you’re evil and the absolute worst and how can you dangle a gold chain in front of him only to snatch it back away? Actually, it’s not entirely your fault. Beomgyu’s eyes narrow at Heeseung who’s a second away from booking it because he doesn’t want to get dragged in your crossfire. Too late. He’s already involved. He fucked up the moment he opened that god forsaken door. This has simultaneously been the best and worst day of his life because even though you've told him acting like a dick doesn't work— at least he knows you don't mind kissing him

If only Heeseung hadn't opened the fucking door. Beomgyu’s gonna fuck him up further in League tonight.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#enhypen x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #enha x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x reader #lee heeseung x reader #park jongseong x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen scenarios #tomorrow x together scenarios #enha scenarios #txt scenarios #choi beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu scenarios

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brewed-pangolin · 5 months

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Inspired by your thoughts on tea, since we know Soap makes fun of Ghost during the Alone mission for asking for a cuppa... do you think Soap would make tea for his wife? Tease her about it but always make sure her favored brand is in the pantry?

Umm...I might have gone a little overboard with this. Oopsies. (But I loved it so much!!)

Johnny would absolutely tease his love for your certain affection and acquired tastes towards tea.

Always muttering little quips under his breath as you meticulously scrutinize the herbal tea aisle of the grocery store for the better part of half an hour.

"Steamin Jesus, gonnae be growin' roots inta th'floor if this takes any longer."

You roll your eyes at him. Too lost in mulling over whether to go with the tried and true chamomile tea bags you've been using for years, or venture out and take a chance on the loose tea you've been reading so much about.

You decide, after much internal deliberation, to go with both.

Once at the checkout lane, you survey the ever growing line of products and can't help but notice that two of your newly cherished items seemed to have miraculously disappeared.

"What's th' bloody difference?" Soap's sudden interjection pulls your eyes towards him. Holding both boxes in his hands, eyes shifting back and forth to give each parcel a quick yet thorough inspection.

"Th's ones tea in a bag. And th's ones loose. So what, ones caged and th'others free range?"

"It's basic chemistry, smartass," you snap back. Snatching both boxes out of his hands, adding them back to the line along the grocery belt.

"You should know something about that, Soap. Being a demolitions expert and all."

"Aye, I am. Rarely havin' to deal wit botanicals though, sweetheart."

An amused sigh escapes your lips, shaking your head as you point to each box and explain in lamens' terms the difference to the ill educated Scot.

"Tea bags are good for quick steaps, inexpensive and easily accessible. But they also grow bitter quickly, are only good for one-time use, and generally have one dominant aromatic note."

You give him pause, narrowing your eyes and gander whether he's understanding your descriptive breakdown or altogether lost like a deer in headlights. His cocked eyebrow indicates the former, allowing you to continue.

"Loose tea has numerous aromatic tones, a longer shelf life, greater variety, and one scoop can be brewed multiple times. Yes, they're quite a bit more expensive and take longer to steap, but the pros outweigh the cons pretty unanimously."

"So why ya buyin' both then, bonnie?"

"The same reason you buy two bottles of the same whisky? One single malt and the other blended. Different brewing styles bring out different keynotes in taste. It's simple chemistry and, why are you looking at me like that?"

You question abruptly. His cerulean eyes gazing upon you with the warmth of a summer's dawn. And carrying with it a smile that would make any young mare weak and tremble at the knees.

"Yer so fuckin' cute when ya go on a tangent like that, bonnie. Cannae help but get lost in ya," he whispers. His thumb gently wrapping around the curve of your chin as he leisurely closes the distance between you.

"Um. Excuse me?"

A sudden, unfamiliar voice tears you both out of your enchanting eye lock, forcing you to break from his gaze and focus on the somewhat embarrassed expression of the young cashier.

"That'll be $78.95, ma'am."

Not even two months later, you turned John MacTavish into a class act tea brewing connoisseur. Something about the chemical intricacies of it seemed to pull at the explosive alchemy that flowed so easily within his mind.

Boiling the water to the perfect alloted time and temperature. Pouring it carefully over the filled infuser that he measured out like an artisanly skilled brewer. He even had an app that would indicate the steeping time for each distinct batch of tea leaves.

And as he brought the expertly steeped brew up to you in bed, you couldn't help but give yourself a theoretical pat on the back to turning the once tea scoffing Scot into a true master brewer.

"Simon would be proud, John." You teased, bringing the porcelain rim of elegantly decorated cup to your lip.

And Soap answered first with a icy glare, followed quickly by his typical brogish banter.

"Donnae fuckin' dare, lass."

Drabbles Masterlist

#ask and answered #tea master Soap #Soap the alchemist #soap squad #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader #soap drabble #call of duty #cod #writeforfandoms

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sirenaex · 5 months

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imagine yuu becoming famous on the twisted wonderland equivalent of tiktok by just reciting vines, doing tiktok trends, and crying on camera. Meanwhile everyone else is just incredibly shocked and very concerned.

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Yuu: Things in Ramshackle that just make sense!

Yuu: The empty pantry! Crowley once again didnt feel like giving us money for food and told us to make do! The crying corner! The designated corner for all the mental breakdowns I have!

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Ace: Yuu could you put on something else, you're making everyone sad

Yuu: FOR THE LAST TIME, IT'S MY MENTAL BREAKDOWN AND I GET TO CHOOSE THE MUSIC

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*Camera pans to Vil and Rook in the distance*

Yuu: These bitches gay, good for them, good for them.

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#twst #twisted wonderland #twst yuu #twst incorrect quotes #twst shitpost #ace trappola #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #vilrook #tiktok/vine yuu

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rainylana · 2 years

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“Pinky promise.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: you can only keep it in for so long without him knowing how shitty your life had been, and when the dam breaks, he’s there to help.

warnings: reader’s parents are getting divorced and has siblings, mentions of unhealthy eating habits and exhaustion, angst to fluff, talk of panic attacks, reader has a breakdown:( language.

a/n: hey there:) i know! it’s been a while since i posted and i’m sorry for that. i just didn’t feel like writing. but here i am:) it! i missed you all!:))) drop by in my inbox for any requests or questions or anything! i’d love to hear from you<3 i’m really happy with how this turned out and i hope you love it as much as i do! it tugs on the heart strings:)

taglist!

@phantomxoxo @imdoingbetternow @eddiemania @eddiemunson @ohlovelyhollow @tessiemessie @rovckwell @delilahtaylorsverson @aa-li-yah @ches-86 @xx-hospitalforsouls-xx-blog @kellysimagines @blowing-mikey @underthebatcape @lillianofliterature @noturmom15 @supercalifragilisticprincess @tripthlightfantastic @edzmunsonswife @itiscj @hearts4laura @livasaurasrex @mic429 @avobabe87 @flowers-and-tsukki @lexthemess21 @nothisispatric @heeyitsg @genuine-possum @fvcking-gxddess @kneelforloki @actuallybarb @justaproudslytherpuff @no0neknowsm3 @cosmic-lavender @your-starless-eyes-remain @bellasfavoritesweatpants @antigoneidk @averysblog @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @chaos-incorp @kaqua @softyutae @ahzysauce @imangy @ultimate-sdmn-trash @fionnthebandersnacc @imabadarsebard @catherinnn @cheri86

Eddie didn’t know how bad it was. And it wasn’t because he was oblivious or not smart enough to see. You were just that good of an actor. You truly knew deep down that he would not berate you for feeling the way you did, but the last thing you wanted to be was seen as an unstable girlfriend just looking for attention. But things really had been bad, and it all seemed to pile up on each other.

You found yourself getting mad at little things, your anxiety ticking away like an explosive ready to detonate. Your dreams were plagued with nightmares that lasted all night long, and damn it, you just found it hard to get up in the morning.

But Eddie, the poor boy, didn’t have a clue about your struggles. You kept up a smile at all times. You laughed and played your part like you were supposed to. Just because you were having a difficult time didn’t mean you had to bring down his party, or anyone else’s, for that matter.

It’s just your parents divorce was finally getting to you. You were happy they were calling it quits, as were your siblings, but the days up until it’s finalization was brutal. The fighting and screaming was endless and your siblings were scared and didn’t understand. You couldn’t concentrate in class and you failed a test that you’d thought you were going to pass. You were having panic attacks almost on the daily. You spilled grape juice on your white socks. It was just one thing after another.

Of course, Eddie did know about your parent’s separation, but any time he brought it up, you chalked it up to him believing you were taking it well. You were a good actress. Today however, your dam would break, because you could only take so much.

“You didn’t bring me a surprise snack today?” Dustin’s big eyes widened in a playful sadness that quirked your lips up in a smirk. “But you always bring me a surprise snack! What else am I going to have for dessert!”

“You’re cleaning out my girlfriend’s pantry, Henderson.” Eddie’s chair tipped backwards as he threw a pretzel at his friend across the cafeteria table. “Can’t you bring your own shit?”

“Sorry, bud.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, looking in your empty lunchbox. “If it makes you feel any better, I forgot my stuff too.”

Eddie internally frowned and scooted his snack over to you, pointing so you could eat. Gareth was rambling on about the movies playing at the cinema that weekend, so you didn’t speak to interrupt him, but you smiled softly as you picked up a pretzel. The cafeteria buzzed with loud conversation, making your head hurt worse than it already did. You weren’t eating as well as you should be, and you knew that wasn’t benefiting your mood, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to.

You felt guilty for being dramatic. You were being dramatic. Others had it worse, that was always what you told yourself, so there was no reason to wallow in your own misery. But god, all you wanted to do was lay your head on the table and plug your ears so hard that they bled and you wouldn’t have to hear a sound.

So instead, you forced yourself to smile and eat, leaning over to squeeze Eddie’s hand while Gareth continued holding the talking stick.

•

Your fingers were tapping anxiously against the steering wheel of your vehicle, head thrown back as you tried not to loose your shit. It was almost seven o’clock in the evening. You were parked outside of the school debating whether or not to go inside to find Eddie. Tears were rolling down your face, nose stuffy and crusted from your previous meltdown.

Your little sister came to you crying again, talking about how she’d overheard your parents screaming about who was going to have custody. It was the same old tune between them. You didn’t worry about custody, but the kids did, and that didn’t make it right. They were too young to hear that kind of thing and if absolutely broke your heart. She’d cried in your arms until she fell asleep in your bed, and then you broke.

It was just so stressful. Every little thing seemed a million times harder to accomplish. Simple tasks seemed almost unbelievable to approach. You just wanted a good nights sleep. You didn’t know how you ended up outside of the school, but Eddie was there. It was hellfire night, and damn it, you just couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him. You tried to wipe your tears as best as you could, wrapping your flannel sleeves around your torso as you scurried into the school. You had a quick walk to your step as your heart beat loudly in your ear.

Just the sound of his voice was enough to calm you, and you leaned against the door to take a few deep breaths and to wipe at your face. You began to regret coming over. He was having fun. His voice was loud and booming, the puppet master commanding his puppets to follow his every wish. You were about to ruin it.

Everyone’s eyes looked up when the door creaked open, and a wide smile beamed onto Eddie’s face at the sight of you. “There’s my princess!” He clapped his hands. “Come on, come on, we’re just getting started.” He waved you over.

The lights were dim enough that he couldn’t see the emotions on your face. You dug your nails in your palm was you walked over to his throne, smiling your best at the boy’s greetings. When you got to Eddie’s side, his free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he shook dice in his other hand. You had a lump in your throat that continued to build.

“Eddie,” You said softly, your voice cracking as you looked down bashfully. “Can I talk to you?”

He peeked up a little but didn’t look at you fully. “Yeah, baby, just give me one second.”

You melted more into his side, bringing up your fingers to naw on. You felt like you were going to faint. Your eyes began to burn and you squeezed his shoulder. He laughed loudly at everyone’s dismay at the roll of his dice. He looked up at you to see you laugh, but he wasn’t met with that. His eyes narrowed and his lips parted at the sight of your tearful eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He panicked, scooting back in his chair.

Your face crumpled and you shook your head, crossing your arms shamefully in embarrassment. You looked so small and you hated yourself for it. He grabbed your elbows and scanned over your face, gulping in his own anxiety.

“Y/n, hey-” He looked over to the door across the room, and he cupped your cheek and turned you around to guide you to privacy.

Once he shut the door, leaving the guys confused and whispering back and forth, he turned around and stepped toward you. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He frowned deeply, voice an octave higher in concern.

You only buried yourself in his arms, sobbing in his shoulder like a little girl who couldn’t find her parents. Ironic.

“Hey, hey,” He wrapped his arms right around you. “What happened? What’s going on?”

It felt so nice to be held by him, like all your problems were going to melt away like snow in the spring. “Everything.” You blubbered against his jean jacket, his chin tucked aside of your head. “It’s everything, Eddie. Everything’s falling apart.”

He squeezed you tighter when you let out a string of wincing sobs, eyes narrowed in confusion at your sudden breakdown. “What’s falling apart, baby? Talk to me. Tell me what happened.” He rubbed your back soothingly.

You pushed your face into his chest so you didn’t have to breath, squeezing your eyes shut and your nose scrunching up where it hurt. You shook your head, whimpering, and he rocked you softly as he held the back of your head.

“Did someone hurt you?” He spoke with a protective tone.

You shook your head quickly. He didn’t need to start anymore fights. Your head pounded from the lack of air you allowed yourself, and Eddie’s eyes narrowed when you gulped loudly. He gently pulled you away and widened his eyes at your pale face. “Take a breath, baby.” He cupped each side of your face.

Your waists ghosted each other’s and his elbows nearly touched your shoulders as he held your face, wiping away tears as you sniffled and carried on. “I’m sorry.” You spewed, sobbing in his grasp.

“No, no,” He shook his head, whispering softly with a breath. “Don’t. You’re okay.”

He waited a minute for the color to return to your face, holding and softly rocking you as you tried to control your emotions. He wiped away each tear and tucked away strands of your soft hair. Once you began to calm down, you could barely look him in the eye.

“It’s my parents.” You blinked down to his stomach. “They’re fighting.”

“Fighting?” He rubbed the space behind your ear.

“A lot.” You forced out with a shake in your voice. “Like..like all the time and the kids are scared.”

Eddie’s heart swelled when you wouldn’t look at him. This sudden admittance about your family was shocking. As far as he had known, it was going smoothly.

“Bethy is worried about who’s going to custody over us,” Your eyes burned and you pressed your hand against your face, sobbing. “Eddie, all they do is fight. It’s constant and- and I don’t know how to make the girls feel any better. I feel so guilty and it’s- it’s not my job to make them f-feel better. Mom and dad should be doing that.”

Eddie rubbed up and down your arms as he listened to you, soft brown eyes pierced with concern and worry.

“And i’ve been having panic attacks.” You burned shamefully, barely looking up at him through wet lashes. “I keep waking up in the middle of the night just- just terrified and I don’t know why. My heart races so fast and I feel so..so freaked out and it scares me so bad.”

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, his thumb circulating your brow. “I can’t eat and I just- I just feel so tired all the time. My grades are slipping and I don’t even have fucking energy to take a shower.”

You covered your face with your hands and looked up to the ceiling with a groan. “And I spilled grape juice on my socks.”

It took Eddie a minute before he could figure out his next move. You didn’t blame him. You dumped a boatload of information on him when he’d fully believed everything in your life was peachy keen. He sighed deeply in guilt before he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into him.

“Fuck- baby, I’m so sorry.” He sighed regretfully, burying his face in your shaking shoulders. “I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.”

“It’s not your fault.” You sank into him. “I’m the one who’s been keeping it from you.”

“Why?” He kissed your temple, rubbing up and down your back.

“I didn’t want to bother you with my..well, my shitty life. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

Eddie pulled away to lift your chin up toward him, his eyes looking into yours. “You’re my girl, y/n. I’m always going to worry about you. I wish you would of told me about all this. I would have helped you.”

“I know.” You whimpered shamefully. “I’m sorry.”

“Quit that.” He gave your head a little shake, rocking your waist gently. “You have nothing to apologize for. You just need to tell me these things, okay? If you’re suffering then I want to know about it.”

God, he was amazing. You felt foolish for not letting him take care of you sooner. You blushed and leaned your forehead on his chin, groaning softly as your tears dried. “Why are you so perfect, Eddie? I’m an ugly mess.”

He ignored your statement with a roll of his eyes, shifting his weight and moving to lean against the cement wall, allowing you to fully and comfortably relax against him. “How long have you been having panic attacks?” His legs were kicked out slightly, yours atop of his as you cuddled his chest.

“A few weeks.” You said with a shameful mutter. “I thought I was having a heart attack at first. I got so close to going to the hospital.”

Eddie closed his eyes in disbelief. “Jesus, baby, I’m so sorry.” He hugged you. “Please, promise me you’ll let me know when you start feeling that way, please? I hate that you’ve been suffering alone.”

You nodded and held up your pinky, Eddie’s chest vibrating with an amused chuckle. He brought up his hand and wrapped his larger, callused finger around yours and gave it a gentle shake. “Pinky promise.” You kissed the tip of his finger.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut

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guardianspirits13 · 8 months

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I've been thinking about this for a while but like. The gods don't have a human conscience. And I know that's obvious, but the closer you look, you realize that they don't really feel emotions the same way humans do. They don't comprehend time, or death, or love in the same way that humans do. Apollo tells us he's lost track of centuries and forgets that people from thousands of years ago are dead and gone. The gods are incapable of change because they have no reason to do so, and few to no consequences if they don't.

When Apollo is turned mortal he is annoyed, sure. But he has trouble getting the concept of mortality through his head. He's seen thousands of people die- heck, he himself has brought plagues upon cities and set his wrath upon his mortal enemies with no hesitation. But humans to gods are playthings.

And so it isn't until he loses Jason, someone he knows, his half brother, that he understands true loss. He laments Hyacinthus and Daphne, but it was his own godly power that caused their demise- his wrath and jealousy. It was infatuation, sure. But did he really know what love was before he was cast down from Olympus?

Jason doesn't only die, but actively sacrifices himself to save Apollo. This is also moments after Apollo tried yet failed to kill himself instead, and it was in part this failure that led to Jason's death. This is a wound of guilt that eats away at Apollo for the rest of the series, and the lasting effects of grief are shown masterfully in the remaining books, with tears and breakdowns occuring seemingly at random, with overwhelming gratefulness at simple acts of kindness, and with the lingering sense of something missing.

Out of all of the remaining gods, it is probably Artemis who understands grief and other human emotions as closely, since she spends most of her time among born mortals in the human world. When she loses one of hunters, she shares in grief with the rest of her troop. She is in touch with the mortal world, I think, as much as a god can be.

And, as an honorable mention, Hestia- who is used to being overlooked and forgotten but is always ready to offer a smile and a warm meal to anyone in need. I think she understands isolation and loneliness as much as any human, and regularly appears in the mortal world to organize soup kitchens and food pantries for those who are struggling. That's just a headcanon though :)

I hope you enjoyed reading this, I've been itching to get these thoughts out for a while.

#trials of apollo #toa #trials of apollo analysis #toa analysis #toa meta #lester papadopoulos #apollo pjo #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #jason grace #heroes of olympus #meta #analysis #jess's thoughts #pjo meta

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starlostseungmin · 8 months

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— empty cafe, bang chan.

✰ notes: happiest birthday to bang chan! it's been a while since the last time i wrote for him but don't worry, his entry for my taylor swift series is coming up soon as well as jeongin! stay tuned for my lee know birthday entry <;33 don't forget to write feedbacks and reblog!

✰ tags: @lix-ables , @zoe8stay , @djeniryuu , @ppiri-bahng , @sleepyleeji , @notastraykid , @skzfelixlove , @seungly , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @ohish , @comet-falls , @mrswolfiechan , @rachabreathing , @iadorethemskz , @minluvly , @dreamingsmile , @flirtyskzbutterfly , @tangylemonade , @gwynsapphire , @annispamz , @surefornext , @seungincore , @skz1-4-3 , @hanjingin , @hyunverse , @hwaberryjuice , @felixglow , @soonyoungblr , @awkwardnesshabitat ( color blue user/s are the ones i can’t tag )

“I need to leave,” You said with your voice cracking up at the situation of being humiliated in front of your co-workers. Your boss crossed the line this time and there is no way you’d want to come back to work here again. Taking all your belongings, you left the office and went straight to the downtown. It wasn’t crowded just like the rush hours, it was peaceful enough to deal with for an introvert.

You head straight to an empty cafe and rush inside the comfort room to cry, failing to hear the barista’s warm greeting. He was the only one working at that time and noticed how you were in a hurry. It was supposed to be a soundproof door but he couldn’t help but hear your sobs when he happened to pass by the bathroom as he was supposed to head to the pantry to get some ingredients while waiting for you.

It took a total of 15 minutes before you decided to go out after fixing yourself from the mental breakdown you had. The barista welcomed you again as you approached the counter. You barely visit this cafeーthe last time you did was when you were with a friend. The food being served was different from before, even the drinks.

“Can I please have a cinnamon latte and a brownie?” You asked trying not to sound sad as his smile grew bigger than before.

“Of course,” He said. “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” You sniffed.

“It will be up in 5 minutes, please take a seat!” He beamed as you smiled back at him and took the table for one just near the counter. It was a good thing that you were the only customer at the moment. You didn’t want anyone to see how glum you were, except the fact that the barista already knew. He even offered the password to their Wi-Fi just in case you wanted to use it.

Your voice was calm and friendly when you talked to him. He seemed very enthusiastic about his job and you work the opposite. You admit it made you feel better to be treated politely after your dumbass boss just took you out like that. A sigh escaped your lips as you tried to hold yourself not to cry again and to avoid another embarrassment even if it was meant for a single person to see. Chan doesn’t actually mind, he had seen a lot of it before. Customers coming in and out have different stories being written behind those facades.

He played some songs to entertain you while waiting but only made you shed tears when he played the wrong playlist with a solemn genre. The napkins being displayed in front of you were used to wipe those tears. Screw those tears, your makeup is expensive to be wasted over for some jerk.

Chan took the tray on the counter with your food on it and tried to approach you as gently as possible. He didn’t want to meddle with the problem at first but it seems like you need someone to talk to at the moment. You texted your friend but haven’t replied for 30 minutes now and God knows what she’s doing on her day off.

“Here’s your cinnamon latte and brownie,” You heard him say as he placed your food on the mat.

“Thank you,” You responded in a gentle voice.

“You’re welcome!” He beamed again as you smiled. “Uhm, I don’t want to interfere with your personal life but, are you okay?” He asked when you were about to taste the food.

“Yeah,” You said, brushing off the embarrassment. He totally noticed everything.

“You were crying in the comfort room a few moments ago,” He added. “I’m sorry if I eavesdropped, I was kinda worried when you came in looking so upset,”

At first, it was awkward to have a total stranger coming up to you and asking if you were fine, but on the other hand, you appreciated it. Moments like this barely happen in your life and everyone leaves you alone, except your best friend of course. You looked at him for a few seconds before answering.

“It was just tough at work,” You smiled, covering the sadness of your face. He is cute and a little bit taller, he has dimples engraved on his cheeks when he smiles and his curly orange locks are very noticeable, his voice is somewhat comforting and the vibe he gives is so approachable.

“I understand,” He said. “Mind if I sit with you? You’re the only customer we have at the moment and I did everything before approaching you, haha,” He added.

“It’s alright,” You answered. “I’m sorry if I just came in looking so upset, my boss just humiliated me in front of my co-workers while I was just trying to defend myself. I got into a small argument with her and then she exploded, blaming me and always pointing out that I’m wrong. It’s just so tiring,” You sighed. “All I did was to follow her instructions for the draft and I don’t know what happened next. It keeps happening during these past few months and I’m trying to deal with it because I don’t want to end up being jobless but the thing is, it’s really toxic now,” You added and cried in front of him. Chan immediately took out some napkins from a small box on the mat and handed them over to you. “Thanks,”

“I’m sorry that it happened to you,” He said being an empath. “I understand, my first job is similar to yours but I’m happy that I left. Do you have intentions to quit?”

“A very strong urge,” You sniffed and smiled after wiping your tears. “I’m planning to write my resignation letter tonight so I can submit it tomorrow. I don’t want to work there anymore, this is the last time.”

“Well, I’m happy that you are,” He smiled. “You should take a break and look out for yourself before taking another risk again. And it’s brave of you to stand up for yourself and leave a toxic environment when you’re in the middle of a crisis of needing that job. I think you really need to rest for now and I pray that in your next one, it will be better and healthier. There are a lot of people who would treat you better. You deserve to be happy and well,”

“Thanks,” You said as your smile grew bigger. “It made me feel better actually,”

“It’s rare of me to be having this heart-to-heart talk with a customer though,” He laughed. “You’re probably the first one, I guess?”

“I’m honored,” You said. “What’s your name?” You asked.

“Oh, I’m Christopher but everyone calls me Bang Chan,” He said, reaching his hand towards you for a shake. “Actually, just Chan. What about you?”

“I’m Y/n,” You answered, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Chan,”

“And you too!” He smiled. “You should eat now, the brownie is getting cold,” He giggled as you happily ate the food and complimented him about it.

“You know, if your resignation gets approved let me know,” He said while watching you.

“Of course! You’d be the first one to know,”

And two days later, you came back to the cafe and rushed towards the counter not minding the other customers watching you.

“Chan! Chan! Chan!” You called as he immediately welcomed you outside the counter.

“Y/n! How was it?” He asked excitedly.

“They approved it!” You said as you both hugged each other, squealing at the best news while jumping in circles.

“Congratulations! Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” Chan said emotionally as if he was trying to wipe his invisible tears after breaking the happy hug.

“Thank you so much! I am so happy that it happened and thank you for listening to me,” You said. “I shall invite you to dinner after your shift if that’s alright with you?”

That made Chan’s cheeks turn a little bit pink and his heart raced. “Of course! I’ll be glad to! I don’t have plans tonight anyway,” He said with a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“Then I’ll wait for you,” You answered kissing his cheek before turning away and went to an empty table. Changbin, the cashier saw the whole thing and smirked at the older guy.

“So you’re ditching boys’ night for a date huh?” Changbin said as Chan rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,”

feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated.

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑.

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berberriescorner · 2 years

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"Are You Listening?"

Part Two: "The Breakdown"

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: It's part two, so I’m not tellin’🙈😏!

Warnings: You’re about to experience a plethora of emotions. Profanity, you all know I got a mouthpiece on me, especially when I’m passionate 😂. There is a brief mention of fertility troubles.

Word Count: 5,000+.

A/N: I just wanted to thank my lovelies again for showing this story so much love. I had no idea people would love it this much. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks💓. I hope you all enjoy the roller coaster you’re about to take a ride on 😂😏😈.

Read Part One Here.

Inspired By:

“Listen, no more talkin’. That clown had enough time to come up with all of it. Find his ass, let him know all my money better be ready by the close of business tomorrow. If not, he’ll be a dead man walking.”

Mick took his orders and turned to leave. Rio stopped him before he could turn the knob on his office door.

“Take those other two useless idiots with you. Everybody else can get back to work. I’m not paying them to stand around looking stupid,” Rio snapped.

Waiting for Mick to leave, he swaggered back to his chair. He plopped down, plucking his glass off the table, gulping the amber-colored liquid. Rio was on his third drink of the night. Slamming the empty whiskey tumbler on his desk, he leaned his head back, running his hand down his face. Alone in his office, wallowing in self-pity. Rio stared at his phone as he contemplated sending another text or calling you again. Thinking about how you had left him on read and sent him to voicemail was eating at him.

“Can’t Keep On Loving You One Foot Outside The Door.”

-Brandy.

Glancing at his iPhone, he mumbled, “fuck it.” Snatching up the cell phone, he tried your number. Ringing twice, it went straight to voicemail. With the sound of the beep, he pleaded his case.

“Come on, ma. Answer my call. Y/N, hear me out. You got this all wrong. Please talk to me. I’m worried about you, baby. I need to know you’re safe. Call me back.”

“Can’t Keep On Trying If You’re Looking For More.”

-Brandy.

He’d started to tell you that he missed and loved you. The thought quickly pushed out of his mind. He closed off his feelings and left the message as is. Ending the call, Rio Tossed the phone down, making his way to the liquor cabinet. Pouring another drink, he made his way back to his seat. Elbows propped on the oak desk, Rio placed his head in his hands. Trying to rub the stress and tension away, he massaged his temples as the last conversation between you two replayed in his mind.

Four Days Ago

Rio had called your phone twice, but it went unanswered. He figured he had stayed out too late, and you had turned in for the night. His mind kept replaying images of him taking you apart. In all honesty, he was hoping that he could wake you once he made it home. Rio was in the mood for another round. He had been missing the feeling of you, tightly wrapped around him. He mentally cursed himself for being so busy that both of your needs had gone unsatisfied for so long. Taking a break just hadn't been in the cards lately. All his rivals had been itching to take over his business. One wrong move and everything he worked so hard for could be gone. They were starting to play dirty, going as far as to try and harm you. He had spent the past several months sending warnings throughout other territories. The warning? Touch my wife, and I’ll make your whole family feel it. He brushed all that from his mind as he pulled into the driveway. Having been up for nearly two days, Rio didn’t bother parking in the garage. All he wanted to do was shower and lay up under you.

“Every Time You Build Me Up, You Only Let Me Down.”

-Brandy.

Entering the house, he quickly keyed the code into the security system. He noticed that there were still dishes on the dining room floor. Flipping the lights on, he strolled into the kitchen to retrieve a broom and dustpan from the pantry. An envelope lying atop the counter caught his eye.

“I left a note in the hallway. By the time you read it, I’ll be far away.”

-Beyoncé.

“Christopher” was written in bold letters in your handwriting. The words “Hope it was worth it” were printed underneath. Next to it, we’re your engagement ring and wedding band. Rio's eyebrows furrowed, and it felt like his heart stopped beating. He convinced himself that this had to be some kind of joke. He snatched the envelope from the marbled countertop, spinning on heels. He made his way through the house and bolted up the stairs, climbing them two at a time. He froze halfway in the middle of the hallway leading to your bedroom. With the door wide open, he could see broken glass on the floor. He forced himself to make the rest of the journey. Rio entered the room. Hangers were strewn all over the place. Your drawers were left open, and the comforter was slung backward on the king-sized bed.

“What the fuck?”

He knew you weren’t there, but Rio called out for you, hoping he was wrong.

“Y/N?”

Left unanswered, he stepped over all the broken picture frames that once housed your wedding photos. All those memories were mixed in the broken glass on the floor. Dropping down onto the foot of the bed, he instructed Alexa to turn on the remaining lights. Ripping open the Manila envelope, he pulled out several large print photos and a note. His eyes scanned the message.

“Almost Convinced Me Your Gonna Stick Around, But Everybody Knows Almost Doesn’t Count.”

-Brandy.

“May you regret every single fucking time you decided to play with my heart. I must say, I have to applaud you for such a great performance. Here a bitch thought you were committed and holding me down. Come to find out, you been lying this whole time. It was all just a great fucking performance. Why not lie and pretend? You were living it up, having your cake and eating it too. Congratulations, by the way. Tell red she might want to keep her day job. I plan to empty your fucking pockets before the ink can dry on the divorce papers. I never wanted to be this kind of woman. Since you want to play with my heart, I’m going to play with the thing that matters most to you, money. I hope you liked the photos. They sure did shock the fuck out of me. They're the only thing saving you and your bitch from getting lit up like a damn Christmas tree. Haven’t I always told you not to play with me? Bitch, I am not one of them dusty ass hoes you used to fuck with.”

-your heartbroken, savage, and soon-to-be ex-wife.

Rio sat there with anger and confusion written on his face. What the fuck is going on? He thought to himself. Rio tossed the note aside and snatched up the photos you mentioned. His face fell, and it became clear why you left in the middle of the night. You had printed out copies of the text and photos you received earlier that night. He couldn’t make out whose number it was. There was no way you were sticking around after seeing these.

“Fuck,” he shouted, flinging the photos across the room. He bent forward, resting his elbows on his lap. His hands crossed and settled under his chin as he sat there furious.

“How the fuck…who the fuck?” Quickly realizing who might be capable of sending you such bullshit, he growled, “I’ma kill this bitch. Better count her fucking days. As if I didn’t have enough reason to take her out already.”

Rio dug his cell out of his pocket and frantically dialed your number. His calls went to voicemail several times before you finally gave in and answered.

“What, Rio,” you barked.

“Where are you? Come home so we can talk-.”

“Talk? Now you want to talk? Fuck that and fuck you, Rio,” you retorted as your voice started to crack.

His heart ached to hear the pain in your voice. He sensed that you had been crying.

“Y/N, please. You don’t understand. Please, ma. Come back to the house.”

“No! I’m not coming home, don’t look for me.”

“Don’t look for you? You’re my wife! What the fuck do you think this is? You can’t just up and walk out on me.”

“Don’t even try to play the proud husband card. You don’t care about me. Do you even understand the damage you’ve caused? You broke me, Christopher. My heart feels like it’s in a million pieces. I loved you more than my own life,” you sobbed.

“Baby, please don’t cry. Can you please just pull over and talk to me? I don’t want anything to happen to you. Just please pull over.”

“I’m pulling over. Hear me loud and clear I’m not coming back to that house. I’m done with you, Rio. The last thing you should want me to do is to come home. Did you forget that I have a gun?”

“No! Come home, damn it! Hear what I have to say. If you still want to leave after, I won’t stop you. Tell me where you are. I’ll come to you, mama, please.”

“This isn’t going to be fixed. You’ve ruined this for good now. I’m beginning to wonder if any of it was real. Thinking of how many lies you’ve told sends chills throughout my body. Who are you? You’re not the man I thought you were. Ain’t no coming back from this,” you cried.

“I’m trying to get you to understand that it’s not what you think it is. Fuck, mama! Just listen to me.”

“What can you possibly say to justify those pictures? You were super fucking cozy with that red-headed bitch! How can you explain the damn ultrasound pictures, Rio? Those photos are the only thing saving your lives right now! That baby won’t be inside her forever, though. I’ma catch that bitch when the baby drops. It’s one thing to cheat on me, but you knocked this desperate housewife-looking-ass bitch up! You gave her the one thing I’d been hoping and praying on. Tell me, is it because of the miscarriage last year? Is that why you stepped outside the marriage? Am I not good enough? Was I not a good wife? A good bonus-mom to Marcus? Tell me what I did to deserve this foul-ass shit,” you questioned as your voice continued to crack.

At this point, you were bawling so hard it made it difficult to breathe. Rio hung his head as he pleaded with you to take a moment to catch your breath. The only thing he could do was apologize, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, mama.” Over and over again. “I wish you would believe me when I tell you things aren’t what they appear to be, but I know all the odds stacked against me. Not with these photos. Nothing I say is going to change your mind. All I can do is tell you I’m sorry this is happening.” For the first time since Marcus was born, his eyes became glossy as he fought the urge to shed a tear.

The line went quiet for the longest fifteen minutes. Rio was relieved to hear you finally take a deep breath. Your voice was scratchy and raw. You no longer wanted to listen to his broken promises and lies as you spoke with finality.

“I hope you know just how much I loved you. I pray that you know how much I’ll always love you, but this is something I can’t get past,” you whispered. “Never did I think I could hate and love you this much.”

Not interested in giving Rio another moment to waste your time, you ended the call. Knowing how his mind worked, you turned off the location on your phone. You knew he wasn’t going to give up without a fight. Taking a few moments to pull yourself together, you dried your eyes and continued your journey. You headed to the place you hoped he wouldn’t think to look for you.

Having no control of the situation, Rio was becoming more desperate to find you. You were out there, all by yourself. No one was watching over and keeping you safe. He had no one to blame but himself. All this was happening on account of his actions. If only he could find you and get you to listen. Even if that were to occur, how could he get you to understand what was happening? In all honesty, even if he were to explain it, there would still be repercussions. Sadly, in a twisted way, he had fucked up.

Rio had checked your location before the call had ended that night. He spent hours trying to find you, but even with the help of his crew, the search was unsuccessful. It was back to the grind that morning, resuming the search after wrapping up any urgent business matters. Rio tried everything he could think to do. He had one of his men trying to track the GPS on your truck. Only you were a step ahead of him. They had found your vehicle parked at your best friend's house. Y/B/N came stomping outside, lashing out at Rio for breaking your heart. The two of them had exchanged a few harsh words. He bit the bullet and called his mother-in-law. The only thing that had come of that experience was a heated exchange between Rio, your father, and two older brothers. Realizing no one wanted to give him any information, Rio focused on your checking activity. He looked to see if you had used your bank or credit cards. He damn near blew a vein when he saw you’d made a large cash withdrawal. It was enough money to keep from having to use your cards. He had no idea if you’d hopped on a plane. If you had gotten a rental and we’re driving across the country. Three of your close friends each lived in a different state. You could’ve been anywhere by now.

The past four days consisted of long sleepless nights and endless searching. Not knowing how else to find you, Rio decided to deal with something else that needed handling. Pushing away from his workspace, he threw back the rest of his drink. Setting the empty glass on the table, he exited his office. Mick had returned from his errand and met up with Rio in the parking lot. He could tell that his boss was running off very little sleep. Mick could sense that Rio had been drinking dark liquor and knew it was on an empty stomach. Pure anger and rage were evident on Rio’s face and in his eyes. Which only meant one thing. Rio pulled out his weapon, checking the weight and safety.

“I think you should let me drive, boss. I’ll keep an eye on things from the car.”

The gesture was one of the many reasons Mick was his go-to. He never had to explain anything, and Mick was a certified trained-to-go shooter. They hopped into the car and sped off towards their destination. It was time for Rio to get some answers. Someone was going to pay for being dumb enough to send that text and those photos. There was only one person he could think of that would be that damn stupid. Surely she knew this little stunt would be the end of her. He just wanted to know what exactly she was trying to prove.

Rio was halfway out of the car before Mick could finish parking. She had mentioned some sob stories about her husband taking the kids out of town, which meant she was home alone. He had found her lights out on the couch with an empty tequila bottle sprawled out on the coffee table. Seeing her sleep so peacefully pissed him off. Here she was getting a nice rest while he had gone the last four days without sleep on account of her, or so he thought. His anger bubbled to the surface. Rio lunged toward her, yanking her by the hair and pulling her into a seated position.

“We need to have a little chat, Elizabeth,” his voice was cold and calculated.

Still not fully awake and a little drunk, Beth blinked a few times. Her eyes were like giant saucers when her brain fully registered what was happening.

“R-Rio, what are you doing here? What is happening? You’re hurting me.”

“Trust me. It’s going to hurt a lot more, Elizabeth. You’ve been pretty busy, haven’t you?”

“I have? W-what are you talking about?”

“You seriously want to play stupid? Come on, ma. That’s only going to make it worse. Why’d you send it?”

“Send what, Rio?”

He pressed the gun into her chin harder. His eyes were dark as his jaw ticked.

“The text? The pictures of the ultrasound? You’re lucky you got pregnant just in time to spare your life. I’m confused as to why you took it upon yourself to share this information with my wife. What’s it to do with her?”

Rio's face fell at the sight of the confusion in Elizabeth’s eyes. She was telling the truth. Beth was clueless about the entire ordeal. If she wasn’t the one that sent them, who did? Her eyes filled with tears as she was shaking. He could see her playing their conversation back in her mind, trying to comprehend what he was saying. He removed the gun from under her chin, putting it back on safety.

“I can see from your reaction that it wasn’t you. You’re still not completely off the hook. There’s a chance that one of your ditzy friends is responsible, maybe that bitter husband of yours. Someone that knows you did it. When I find out, and trust me, I will. We’ll circle back to this moment, yeah?” Rio’s signature crooked smile played on his lips as he tapped her cheek with the barrel of his gun. You're going to help me figure this shit out. Better find a way to get that beautiful wife of mine to return to me safe and sound. If you don't, all three of you bitches gon’ feel it. Get some rest, ma. You got a lot of work to get to tomorrow, yeah?” He stood straightening his shirt and tucking his gun in his jeans. Beth hadn’t said another word and continued to stare at him in fear. Rio brushed the hair from her face and eerily stated, “sweet dreams, darlin’.” With that, he made his departure.

Rio had Mick take him home. Not sleeping and running off of alcohol had taken its toll. He managed to eat half a bowl of ramen before dumping the rest. After taking a quick shower, he got into bed. Though his eyes were heavy, sleep evaded him. Rio’s brain was preoccupied with thoughts of you. He wondered where you were and If you were doing okay. He was also racking his brain, trying to figure out who outside Beth would be ignorant enough to blow up his life. Reaching for his mobile device, he made one last attempt to call you for the night. It went straight to voicemail, and Rio slammed his phone on the nightstand. Almost immediately, a notification came through. It was a text from Marcus’ mom reminding him to pick him up from practice. Guilt and stress coursed through his body. Rio had to prepare for the sadness your absence would cause in his son's life. How could he explain that he was the reason behind your abrupt departure? Marcus loved you just as much as Rio. Unable to fight the exhaustion, his thoughts led him into a slumber.

The conversation about your absence had been difficult, and Marcus handled it as best he could. Rio had explained to his baby boy that although you left, it had nothing to do with him. He clarified that it wouldn’t change the love you two had for him.

“So is she never coming back, dad?”

The sadness in Marcus' voice nearly gutted Rio.

“I honestly can’t say, but this is all on me. I should’ve handled ma’s heart better. I could’ve tried harder to protect her from outside influences. I just want you to know that she didn’t leave you. She needs time apart from me to think. I’m doing my best to fix it, little man.”

“Do you still love her, dad?”

“Of course I do. Always will.”

Marcus smiled at his father and walked over to him. He gave Rio a tight hug.

“Hope that makes you feel better.”

Rio hugged his son back, kissing the top of his head, “it does, baby boy. Thank you.”

“Hey, dad, would it be okay to call mama Y/N sometime?”

That very question had been like a spark of hope for Rio. You had been ignoring his calls, but he knew you would never refuse Marcus’ precious face. Rio knew it would only make you angrier, but it was the only way he could get you to talk to him.

“She wouldn’t mind at all. She’d probably love to hear from you right now.”

Marcus sped off to retrieve the phone Rio and Rhea (his mom) had gifted him on his last birthday. He ran to the couch, phone in hand, and bounced onto the cushions. Marcus excitedly sent you a FaceTime request. As it rang, the sweet boy crawled onto his dad’s lap to wait for an answer. Only letting it ring twice, you accepted. Your eyes focused on Marcus, and you completely ignored Rio.

“Hi, my sweet baby! I miss you so much, bud! How’s school and soccer going for you?”

“Pretty good. I scored two goals in practice today!”

“That’s awesome. Listen, sweetie pie, I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to kiss that cute handsome face goodbye. Hope you’re not too upset with me, my little love.”

You were doing your best to mask the pain in your voice, but Rio heard it as it made his stomach twist.

“That’s okay, ma. Dad told me you had to take some time to yourself. I’m going to miss you. I hope I see you soon.”

Marcus was on the same page as his father. He sneakily finished saying what he wanted and handed the phone to Rio. You could hear Marcus shout, “love you, ma! Gotta go do my homework. You should talk to daddy for a bit, please,” he begged. With that, the adorable little devil made his exit.

“I don’t have shit to say to you. That’s pretty fucked up for you to use Marcus to force me to speak with you. What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

“You left me no choice, mama. When are you going to stop playing games and come home love?”

“You’re such a narcissist. Get the fuck off my line, Rio.”

“You can’t even take ten minutes to hear what I have to say?”

“He only want me when I’m not there. He better call Becky with the good hair.”

-Beyoncé.

“No, I cannot. It’s funny that you suddenly have so much time for me. Now that I’m not sitting around waiting on you and believing your lies. You’ve got all the time in the world. Fucking ass. Stop calling me,” you growled, ending the call.

At this point, Rio was starting to become agitated. He understood that he’d fucked up, but you weren’t even trying to have one final discussion about it all. Don’t bitches crave closure? There was so much more to the situation that you didn’t know. He wanted to explain everything, but you wouldn’t allow him to have even an ounce of your time. Rio took a moment to gather himself. Scooping his phone from the end table, he FaceTimed Mick.

“Yo?”

“She answered a FaceTime call from Marcus. We managed to get her to stay on long enough to take screen grabs. Find out if the screenshots can give any information on where the fuck my wife is. I’m not playing this cat and mouse shit anymore. Find her by any means necessary.”

“Got you. I’m on it, boss.”

Ending his call with Mick, he was startled by the doorbell. Glancing at the security camera left him confused. Rio approached the door, his hand behind his back, settling on the base of his gun. He opened the door, and his eyes fixated on a man dressed in slacks and a button-up. The stranger addressed Rio by his full name. He eyed the man cautiously, replying, “who wants to know? Do we know each other?” The man smiled, giving Rio a quick head nod. “You’ve been served.”

Rio barely had time to process what was happening. The papers were in his hand, and the process server was already in his vehicle, leaving by the time it clicked. He didn’t even have to look at them to know they were divorce papers. Not wanting to scare or upset Marcus, he closed the door softly. He did the only thing he could to release his anger with his son present. He went to his workout room and took all his frustrations out on his punching bag. Half an hour later and he was still so full of emotion. He took a swig of water before snapping and launching it across the room. Alone in his thoughts, he pressed his back against the wall and slid down. Burying his head in his hands, he tried his hardest not to spiral, but it was unsuccessful. Rio’s emotions bubbled over as he called you again. It rang once, going to voicemail.

“You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m giving up that easily. You can keep ignoring my calls but check this out. I’ll never stop looking for you. I can promise you that. Do us both a favor and just bring your beautiful ass home, ma. Sending me papers, I am not Usher, sweetheart, I ain’t ready to sign shit. Never will be. You are my wife. We in this thing for life, baby. I thought you knew. I know it’s hard for you to believe right now, but I fucking love you, mama. How you groan and complain about my lack of communication, yet here you are doing exactly that. Get your head on straight. As soon as daddy can figure it out, I’m coming to get you, darlin’.” Ending the call, he went to do a little searching of his own.

You had only been at your destination for a few hours. Not only had it been a long drive, but being an emotional mess made it impossible to focus on the road. You had to stop to rest and force yourself to eat something. Every hotel you slept in was as low-key as you could get. Your last conversation with Rio had you constantly looking over your shoulder. The desperation and determination in his voice were too hard to ignore. You knew that he was on a mission to find you. That’s why you had spent longer than expected at the stop before. Your mind flickered back to the previous night.

Holed up in the quaint little hotel room, you drowned your sorrows in a bottle of Casamigos. You Swallowed a copious amount of alcohol as your face scrunched at the burning sensation in your chest. You sat on the bed, legs folded with your MacBook in your lap. Fingertips furiously pecked at the keys as you filed for separation. Summer Walker’s “Throw It Away” flowed through the speakers. Earlier, your best friend had called you while driving to check in on you. She had done a little research after you had adamantly declared you wanted to end your marriage. Your friend felt that you were being impulsive. She had taken it upon herself to explain that you could file online. Halfway through the conversation, Y/B/N convinced you to file for a separation. She argued that you didn’t know the whole story, and you agreed. Filling out the proper documents lasted a while. Having completed your task, you took one last swig of liquor and curled into a ball, crying yourself to sleep.

Sitting at the counter of a cute little diner, you listened to the last message your soon-to-be ex-husband left you. Rio’s voicemail made you so angry that your mouth formed a scowl. He was begging for a response, and that’s just what you gave him. Not giving him the satisfaction of calling him back, you opted to shoot him a biting text.

“If you had bothered to open the damn envelope, you’d know they’re separation papers. I was going to take time to clear my head and make a proper decision. Judging by your stalkerish, obsessive, possessive attitude, ain’t shit I need to think over. The papers you’re bitching about now? Go ahead and tear them up. New documents are on the way, my boy! Save us both the hassle and sign them whenever you fucking get them. No need to send a response. I won’t be responding to anything else you have to say. Let this be the LAST time we have to contact each other.”

Rio responded to your text with a photo. It was an image of the papers burning in the kitchen sink. “Did this as soon as I received them. Any other papers coming to this address will meet the same fate, my love.” You thought about responding but were interrupted by someone sliding into the stool next to you. Ignoring the unwanted lunch companion, you tried turning your focus back to your phone. Only the sound of the lunch companion’s voice sent a chill down your spine.

“I must say it’s odd bumping into you so far from home. What are you doing in California? Are you hiding from someone, darlin’?”

Yes, another cliffhanger. Sorry my babies, but I got to keep the suspense going 😜. I know, I ain’t shit 😆😈. Part three is in progress, but I’m working on several different WIP. Be patient with your girl. I hope this lived up to your expectations. It was a struggle to post part two. I tend to be overly critical of my work. Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated. Ask box is open as well💓.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics

Prompt Credit: @a-cure-for-writers-block

Tag list:

@4everbrookemarie @nightlywords7 @amorestevens @crimsonheart01 @rio-reid-whoreee @mrsmontanalol @igigix @keaboyd21 @blowmymbackout @my-rosegold-soul @uhlxis @abcdestinyyyy @hihellogoodbyebruh @sunshine-flower @lemmewritesomeish @catxo @naughtyslashers @realhotgurlshit @peaches007 @gardenof-venus @aizawash0e @minton131 @novaniskye @90sisthenew80s @cjricks98 @skyesthebomb @myownworstenemydw @lifeofthelovelyone @tashawar @gabbywontlose @kayla1blog @skelly-baby @adg1115 @blessedboo @fandomcitysstuff @drinaj @being-worthy @sxkxna @whore4-horror @elliesrealgf @pimpsdontcryy @batgurl42 @gotbeefbitch-blog @thedopestblackgirl @nunya7394 @midnightheat @pixieyosi @imjustheretoreads-blog

**Due to some of you guys' profile restrictions, I was unable to tag a few people.

#berberriescorner #are you listening?#series #part two #the breakdown #rio x black!reader #rio x woc!reader #rio x reader #rio x y/n #rio fanfiction #rio fanfic #rio good girls #good girls rio #manny montana #black writer #Spotify

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soldat-buck · 1 month

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holy shit you guys, look, there's more.

bg3 culinary headcanons: Absolute Edition

- Minthara: would accidentally fit in as the Addams Family home chef (and be angry about it). Gomez would praise her assassination attempts which flusters her (internally) because she's cooking with the normal amount of poisonous mushroom and not an attempted murder amount (and also she would hate loud, in-your-face-chaotic Gomez SO MUCH. if she wanted him dead, he would be dead, do not insult her assassinating abilities). makes the coolest Halloween party food until you realize it's not fun, spooky-mimicry decoration, those are real black widows on those cupcakes (what? they're venom and merlot flavored) (she used cricket flour, too). you don't know where she gets the "red" for her red velvet cakes, but you *do* know that ignorance is bliss and this is a pretty bitchin' birthday cake, so don't think too hard and just eat it

- Dark Urge (pre-game/embrace): slaughterhouse nightmare aesthetic - chef's apron is leather and something more appropriate for blacksmithing, there are way too many cleavers around (why in the blue fuck is there a meat hook over a drain in the floor?). some people watch tv when they cook. some listen to music, podcasts, or nothing. Durge listens to the Toy Box killer kidnapping tape (not to be mixed up with the (not safe for LIFE) Tool Box killers torture tape. that one is for relaxing baths). watches Dahmer documentaries for culinary inspiration. Hannibal Lecter would find most Durge dishes tasteless and over the top.

- Ketheric: listen, he didn't want me to tell you this [so you did NOT hear it from me], but he actually doesn't eat. he has a symbiotic relationship with the bacteria and fungus that keep his body animated and undying (they're why his blood is black). he consumes rotten things to keep his corpse puppet fungus happy and the corpse puppet fungus allows him to keep his consciousness/sentience and keep serving Myrkul. Myrkul's cool with it, as long as his bidding continues to get done

- Orin: Martha Stewart would have a nervous breakdown upon entering Orin's kitchen. the average person would consider Orin's cooking to be a hate crime. if someone doesn't vomit uncontrollably upon first sight, she considers it an insult (she grew up with a gross misunderstanding of what a Roman vomitorium is). her spaghetti and meatballs is wrapping a handful of uncooked noodles in unseasoned ground meat (she neither knows nor cares whether it's fish or chicken or cow. meat is meat), then baking it in a casserole dish sprinkled with still-condensed tomato soup from a can. Midwestern casserole cooking brought to you by Hell. doesn't use salt because she finds it too spicy. she has an entire pantry section for savory jello

- Gortash: culinary techbro. kitchen is spilling over with unitasker gadgets ("and THIS contraption evenly distributes heat for the perfect boiled egg! what do you mean 'what else does it do'. it boils eggs perfectly i already told you, why the fuck weren't you listening"), and the most stupid, overengineered 'smart' devices ("no no no, you don't understand, this is so helpful. the fork connects to the plate to measure the temperature of the food, and then the plate changes color to warn me if it's too hot, and then i don't burn my tongue, because i really hate that"). despite all of the pricey kitchen shit that he keeps buying, he's skilled at making exactly one dish: microwaved Totino's pizza rolls

(i'm sorry if Gortash is out of character; my brain replaced his voice with John Oliver's and won't put the original back)

if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Companion Edition

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xoxomoonlightxoxo · 6 months

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P&C | Ch. 12: Purple Marks

➪ Playlist (Spotify) l Series Masterlist

Eyes locked on each other, the walls of the pantry seem to narrow as our bodies become enclosed into one singularity. Jungkook’s hands now outline the sides of my waist as I indulge in more kisses on his soft neck. The marks left on each other's skin turn into soft hues of purple need and desire.

“Baby,” he whispers into my ear, nibbling on the soft flesh.

“Jungkook, I want you,” a soft moan escapes my parted lips. My legs finally touch the ground as he lowers my form, his gaze is hazed but focused on my eyes.

“Trust me, I need you, but not here. I want your pretty voice to echo when I have you,” he says, placing his forehead on mine. We stay like this for a little while, our scents mixing into one, before it's all interrupted by the commotion coming from the living room.

“YAH, where the heck are they? I'm starving!” Tae exclaims, pacing around the dining table for the millionth time.

“I checked upstairs but they weren't there,” Jimin adds as Jiah places extra napkins around each plate.

“I'll give Mira a call maybe …” her sentence is interrupted as Jungkook walks out of the pantry with the teapot I was initially looking for. Trying to ease the suspicion I grab boxes of assorted chocolates from the nearby shelf to keep my hands busy.

“Sorry everyone, Mira's poor eyesight couldn't find the teapot in the dim light,” Jungkook scoffs looking back at my face with a teasing smirk. Before I can even react, Tae pulls us both to our seats.

“Respectfully, I'm about to pass out. Can we please eat now?” he lets out a soft whine, eyes seconds away from tearing up. As everyone falls soft for his desperate state, the Friendsgiving dinner commences.

“I want to thank everyone, especially Jiah for making all of this happen. It's my first holiday without my family and I don't know what I would have done without you guys,” I raise my glass of champagne, eyes focused on Jiah's soft smile as she blows me a kiss. She truly did save me from a total breakdown. If not for this trip, I would have probably just rotted in my dorm the whole break.

“Happy Thanksgiving everyone!” Tae exclaims with his boxy smile as cheers and the sound of glass clinking fill the room.

7:30 a.m.

The morning is quiet as the sun paints the sky in beautiful hues of light blue. My body shifts under the soft duvet, one leg out trying to find that perfect cold spot. As much as I want to stay like this a bit longer, I can practically hear my throat begging for some water. So, I cover myself in a robe and stop by the bathroom to check my face, which ended up being the least of my concerns upon seeing the purple marks on my chest.

“Shit,” I let out a quiet gasp, tracing the hickeys on my now-sensitive skin. Not giving it much thought just yet, I resume my journey downstairs towards the kitchen where I see the culprit behind this mess.

“Jungkook!” I snap at him, careful not to wake the rest of the house.

“Morning Peaches,” Jungkook leans on the countertop as he holds out a glass of water. Wearing a grey pair of sweatpants he decided to ditch the concept of a shirt, his toned abs on full display under the kitchen lights. As I stomp towards him, he extends his arms reaching for my waist until his intentions are interrupted by a slap.

“Off! Look what you did,” I exclaim, untying the not on my robe, exposing my black lacey bra. It doesn’t take long for a grin to form on his face as he leans in closer to examine the outcome of his doing from last night. Tightening the grip on my waist, his lips inches away from my sensitive skin I let out a soft whimper before moving his face up to mine.

“Jungkook, I’m serious, what do I do?” I sigh, furrowing my eyebrows at the mess.

“Why are you so worried? No one is gonna see it, except for me I hope,” he says as his bunny teeth peek through the teasing grin.

“Um hello, we are supposed to go swimming today?” I remind him as my eyes can’t help but roll.

“Oh, shit I forgot ... you can’t even swim though,” he exclaims.

“Yes, I can! I told you I just need some prep time,” I explain to him with annoyance, trying to push myself out of his grip. A short-lived attempt that fails in the end, once I hiss at the sensation of the cold countertop under my robe as Jungkook lifts me onto it. Spreading my legs his body leans in closer, naturally encompassing our embrace into one whole. Hands on either side of me, his gaze is focused on my lips.

“Whatever you say gorgeous,” he whispers, brushing my bottom lip with his thumb before giving it a quick peck. Hands dropping to my exposed chest he outlines the canvas of purple marks, careful not to put too much pressure. Letting out soft whimpers as my hands intertwine in his dishevelled hair I lower my gaze on his hooded eyes.

“I know it hurts but they feel and look so good, damn it” he whines with a certain degree of neediness. Succumbing to his desire, Jungkook leaves gentle kisses on my breast, indulging in their natural scent before meeting my eyes once again.

“I didn’t take you for a boob guy,” I let out a soft chuckle, grinning at his desperate state.

“I’m not but yours did something to me,” he exclaims biting his lip rings. Hearing footsteps coming down the main staircase, he helps me cover up before lifting me back down on the ground. Quickly opening the fridge I pretend to look for something, as Jungkook plops onto the couch, turning on the TV.

“Oh, what are you guys doing up this early?” Jimin exclaims surprised, eyes barely opening. Scratching his head, he makes his way towards the kitchen as I quickly say hi before running back to my room. Looking back I noticed Jungkook’s eyes follow my every move with a shameless grin.

“Jungkookie, can you help me with breakfast?” Jimin's voice echoes from the kitchen.

Rummaging through my makeup bag I search for the one thing that can save me from public embarrassment.

“Oh my God, yes!” I exclaim, pulling out the tube of waterproof foundation. Careful not to get it on my ruffled bikini top, I virtually paint over my whole chest, covering up Jungkook’s traces of possession. Analyzing the final product, I let the foundation dry before putting on a sundress and fixing the mess on my head. It looked believable under the bathroom light, so hopefully, no one will be able to notice it, I thought to myself. Packing up my beach bag, I lock my bedroom door and make my way down to the living room where everyone is ready to head out to the lake.

Jungkook is the first to look up, a frown forming on his face as he notices the absence of his kisses on my skin. Sending him a quick hiss, I try to remain composed as Jiah and Sohee intertwine their hands with mine.

“Looking good ladies,” Jiah cheers, as the three of us giggle while checking each other out. We looked hot, what can I say? Our little chit-chat is quickly interrupted as Tae leans in and pulls us into a group hug.

“What did I do to deserve such a visual friend group?” he grins, letting out a boxy smile as I poke his side. Feeling Jungkook’s chest behind me I quickly retrieve my hand before looking up at his darkened orbs. He doesn’t say anything and instead pulls my beach bag over his shoulder before leading the way with Jimin.

Today is probably the warmest it has been since school started. Clear sky, fresh breeze, birds chirping in the background, the ambience is harmonious, to say the least. Making it to the lake house, we begin unpacking as Jimin sets up the speakers and blasts some Chase Atlantic. Taking my sundress off I can feel Jungkook’s eyes on my bare skin as he comes right behind me.

“You’re killing me,” he whispers into my ear before grabbing the sunscreen out of my bag. Turning his back towards me, he takes off his shirt as I spread the white cream all over his broad shoulders, hesitating at first. He hisses at the cold sensation, before facing me, gaze focused on my lips. Trying to avoid his eyes I quickly spread more sunscreen on my hands, rubbing it all over his chest as my hands outline the defined set of packs that are now glistening in the sunlight. Nibbling on his lip ring Jungkook tries to reach for my waist until Tae calls out my name.

“Yah, Miraya, me next please,” he grins, handing me his sunscreen and straightening his posture. Before Tae attempts to take off his shirt, Jungkook places the sunscreen back into his hands, patting his chest.

“Do it yourself big guy,” Jungkook exclaims with a quick wink, before pulling me towards the water. Hearing Tae’s distant whines, I let out a soft gasp at the feeling of the cold lake.

“Fuck, it’s so cold,” I exclaim, hands already shivering.

“Miraya come in, don’t be a baby,” Jungkook teases, brushing his wet hair back.

“No, I’m scared,” I say, as a soft whimper escapes my mouth. Chuckling at my state, Jungkook swims closer to the shore before his torso is exposed again.

“Come here you baby,” he says, extending his arms for me to grab onto. Which I do as my mouth drops from the feeling of the cold water, our bodies now fully under it. Quickly clasping my arms around Jungkook’s neck I’m left clinging onto his torso as panic completely takes over the control of my body.

“I can swim my ass,” he chuckles, pulling me closer as his grip tightens around my waist.

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