#wow look at me I’m so deep

[sapphic-spagbowl]

why is having a crush portrayed as a fun teenage experience. it’s not. it’s realizing that no matter what, no matter how hard you try, you’ll always be the noise in the background. Or that book they’ll never read collecting dust on a bookshelf. Or that sticky note they never took off the fridge- just fading into the normalcy of life. It’s realizing that even though they are sparkling morning sunrise, you’ll always be the quietly setting moon.

[ladybeug]

Went to Taylor swift tonight, and 3 people gave me bracelets - even though I didn’t have any to trade!!

Sharing this bc I am touched by the kindness of the Taylor swift community and I hope the 2 teens and woman in mcmenamins know they made my day so much better!!!

[saetoru]

i’ve said this before but people who say “thank you for sharing this” in reblogs have a special place in my heart truly

[stardustdiiving]

Everytime I tell people who know me pretty well I LOVED Pearl from Steven Universe as a child it’s so humiliating bc they’re always like oh of COURSE you did . I bet you loved her thing with rose quartz didn’t you and I have to admit Rosepearl was an integral part me building an understanding of queerness and they’re like that makes SO much sense. I cannot keep doing this

[daydreamerdrew]

back-up story to The Flash (1959) #312, as republished in Immortal Doctor Fate (1985) #3

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Hypnotic Affection

Yandere Merman x Mermaid Reader x Merman

TW: manipulation, hypnotism/ drugging, tentacles, kidnapping, yandere themes, delusional behavior, etc.

Since you were young, you had been betrothed to a shark merman named Marin. Marin was a cantankerous individual and was quite rude to you since you weren’t a shark mermaid. The only reason the two of you were even betrothed was so your clans would stopped fighting… yet you knew you’d be miserable with Marin.

You often attempted to court him with various shells you’d find but he’d always rebuff you. “These shells are too small, you’ll need something better than some measly clams to have me look your way longer than a few minutes.”

His words were always as sharp as his teeth. His clawed hands would always chuck your clam shells away no matter how pretty they were, it broke your heart. You really wanted to make this marriage work… maybe he’d budge if you found a conch shell?

You bowed your head to your fiancè before you headed off back toward the sea. Marin had no idea this would be the last time he’d see you in awhile…

You swam farther and farther from home until you spotted a conch. You were on the edge of deep sea territory, so it was best to be careful or else you’d get swept up in the current… but it would be worth it if you’d gift the conch to Marin and he’d finally accept you, right?

Your eyes lit up as you slowly swam towards it but you were quickly snatched up in large tentacles, a screech left your lips when the tentacles tighter around you.

A different merman quirked their head at you as they shimmied out from their hiding spot in the coral. “A-a mermaid? I’m sorry.”

The coral colored tentacles quickly released you before ghostly pale hands began to examine your body in worry. “I just thought you were a fish… I hadn’t meant to lunge at you.”

You were surprised by how shy this merman was, his hands trembled as he shakily checked your arms to make sure there were no marks.

“I’m perfectly okay, I’m (your name). What’s your name?” The octopus merman’s cheeks went aflame when you asked him for his name.

“I-I’m Ren! I’m an octopus.” Ren’s tentacles folded into one another as if they were comforting his nerves. “I still apologize for scaring you… I’ve never seen another mermaid before.”

You smiled at Ren and offered him your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ren. I hadn’t meant to trespass your area… it seems I wandered a bit too far.”

“I-it’s no issue at all!” Ren beamed, his dark eyes filled with stars while his tentacles flailed in excitement. “If you want, you can stay in my burrow with me! It’s quite comfy in here.”

“That’s so sweet of you.” (Your name) beamed at Ren who ushered her inside. The merman began to become a bit jittery when she accepted so easily. He’s been wanting a mate for so long… and now she was finally here!

Ren sealed his den shut as soon as she swam in. His tentacles blocked the exit watch a large boulder. “It’s to keep predators out!” Ren reassured her as he lead her around his small home. She marveled at the various jars and vegetation he kept. “I’m a sea witch.”

“Wow! That’s really fascinating!” Ren blushed again when you didn’t mock him for being a sea witch. It made his heart flutter. You were so sweet and that made him even happier… the only issue was that you were a different species than him…

“How about I show you a few tricks?” Ren was so happy when you accepted. The octopus merman showed you a very simple spell that made his home brighter. He was thrilled when you clapped your hands and smiled. Ren was so happy to no longer be alone… and he would never let you go.

Ren offered you a meal and you happily ate with him. The vegetation made your brain a bit foggy, but the taste was delightful. Had Ren always been so attractive?

Ren smiled at your sleepy form as you yawned. “Here, how about you spend the night? It’ll be so much safer for you that way.”

You nodded and allowed him to lead you into his den. His tentacles pulled you into an embrace as he smiled. This was just too easy…

You didn’t know how much time had passed since you entered Ren’s burrow since Ren would often feed you every time you tried to leave. Ren made you such lovely meals that you slowly began to forget what even brought you to this end of the sea. You really liked Ren, so why did you have to leave again? You felt as if there was some strange phenomenon happening around you and yet you didn’t care anymore… you liked being with Ren!

Meanwhile, Marin was in shambles. You had been missing for a week now. You always showed up every other day with your stupid smile as you held up some shells you found to him… you were never away from him for long. Marin searched your home in the anemones and he searched all the reefs around yet you were nowhere to be found… were you okay? You didn’t try to go find a bigger shell for him, did you?

You didn’t know it, but Marin always gathered up all the shells he’d throw. He just wanted to look tough in front of you… but now he knew it was a mistake. You wouldn’t risk your life for a shell when you were already engaged to him, right? You were already enough… you were always enough.

A month had went by and you were still missing. Marin now took more desperate measures of swimming out farther and farther… until he spotted a conch. The shark merman rushed towards the shell and began to examine the ocean floor until he spotted a sealed off den. The merman quickly swam toward the rock and searched for a crack until he could peek in there. The sight before him horrified him.

Ren’s purple appendages slid up and down your delicate tail as his hands grasped at your hips. “Would you like to be my mate, (your name)?” Your head felt so dizzy and you could only nuzzle into him. Ren smiled down at your obedient form. What a perfect mate you’d be! It was just so easy to ensnare you and to hypnotize you with his potions… it was all so easy-

Ren was shocked when the boulder to the den was shoved open and a shark merman lunged at him. Ren screamed when one of his appendages were bitten off by the shark. Marin’s large gray form quickly scooped you up and made a swim for it. Ren tried to snatch you back, but Marin easily evaded the tentacles. Ren began to scream as he tried to give chase, but the blood gushing from his missing arm would attract more sharks… he’d have to come back for you another day…

Marin didn’t look back once until the two of you were an hour away. The shark set you down on a rock as he began to examine your body for any wounds. “You’re okay now… we’re going home.”

You tilt your head to the side in confusion at Marin’s words. Who was this merman and why did he seem so familiar? “But I was home? I live with Ren.”

Marin felt a sob rack through him before he bent down and pulled you into a hug. What had that octopus done to you? Marin would protect you this time, he’d help you get back to normal. “You’re safe now… you’re safe.”

You often sat in a trance in Marin’s den. It was as if you were in a whole other world despite being next to him, a world where Marin could no longer reach you.

“Look! I have all the shells you gave me on the walls.” Marin gestured to the various colorful clamshells with a smile. “I’m sorry I was mean before, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like you! I really do care for you, I swear.”

Marin was filled with hope each day when you’d glance at the shells but his hopes would always be dashed when you’d tilt your head off to the side. “Do I know you?”

“I’m Marin... I’m your fiance.” Marin was so frustrated that you couldn’t remember him. He had tried everything… from taking you to every spot you two grew up together to your old den, yet nothing clicked. You only ever wanted to ask about that damned octopus merman.

Marin often cuddled beside you when it was time to sleep. His muscular arms felt so strange around you compared to Ren’s slender ones. You really missed Ren…

“Psst, (your name).” You perked up when you heard Ren’s voice. You gave him a big smile before you slinked out of Marin’s arms. “Let’s go home.”

You quickly swam towards the octopus merman who scooped you into a tight hug. A big smile on his face when you accepted him. He almost felt bad for Marin if it wasn’t for the fact that the shark merman was the entire reason the two of you met! What a sucker…

[daddyricsdoll]

Vanilla? ✭ Oscar Piastri

Summary: It's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest. But that wasn't what every other driver on the grid thought as they teased Oscar and you for being too innocent to know anything beyond vanilla sex. So when you guys didn't put up a fight, they figured they were right... until someone was lucky enough to see you and Oscar on the other end of the spectrum of "plain sex".

Warnings: not vanilla sex! fingering, oral (male receiving), bondage (hands tied together), spreader bar (if that even what it’s called), unprotected sex, rough because how else would you have it? Gagging and deep-throating Oscar’s huge dick 😩

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Oscar is the man who makes me wanna wake up in the morning and I love it!! I'm so obsessed with him it's making me go insane, but if I'm going insane it's fine because I'm going insane over him. Everything about him is beautiful and I wanna call him pretty and gorgeous and watch as he blushes. Then ride him and take control of him until he wants to teach me lesson and makes me pass out. (I’m just a girl) Based off of this request.

“Oscar, how would you say relationships outside of F1 have helped you grow in this sport as a driver and as a person. If they had an impact, and if not then why?” Oscar’s PR manager testing questions on him, posing as one of the many journalists trying to break Oscar’s wall that he’s been perfect at keeping up so far. He finds it amusing that they have so much interest in his life, only encouraging him to keep his words to a minimum. Well as long as you don’t come up– his cheeks immediately flush and he starts every sentence with “my girlfriend” before he looks at others and silently begs them to say something to shut him up.

“Well, everyone’s been supportive of my career. Which only makes me want to do my best, and better than that.” Keeping a straight face as he answers until he looks at you beside him then Lando with a proud grin on his face.

“Who’s everyone…? Your girlfriend?” Lando’s voice teases, like every schoolgirl talking about their friend's crush.

“I- yeah. She does a lot for me, helps me let off steam before and after races, she also-”

“Let off steam, huh? Is my Oscar making his girlfriend cum to let off steam?” Lando’s mouth wide open, making an ‘o’ shape. Both you and Oscar have mixed emotions– heat coursing through you remembering just this morning, but also shock from Lando’s unhinged question.

“You’d be surprised?” Oscar’s answer broad, but you knew. Letting Lando believe that Oscar lets you cum, when his favourite thing is edging you until tears roll down your face.

“Oscar, you probably just learnt what a clit is.” Lando having nothing better to do than tease him as his pale cheeks turn pink. 

“Believe whatever makes you happy.” Oscar shutting down the conversation before he reveals too much, a little smile on his lips as he chuckles and moves his hand further up your thigh.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

It wasn’t just Lando who would have a say about you and Oscar’s sexual life, but any driver who happened to walk into the conversation at the perfect time.

“Oh yeah, Oscar you’re vanilla.” His fellow Australian, Daniel Ricciardo, says. Joining them on their walk to wherever they all had to be next. 

“Well actually I think Oscar is a little more than vanilla. He’s vanilla but not vanilla.” Logan pops in too.

“No. Oscar is sooo vanilla. Like he’s too scared to choke his girlfriend because she’ll die and he’s never marked her so she knows she’s his.” Lando expresses his words with so much passion it makes Oscar roll his eyes but know exactly what Lando’s doing when their hotel rooms are beside each other and he’s invited a girl over. 

“Wow. Calm down Lando, I think we learnt a little bit more from you than Oscar. You definitely need a girlfriend.” Daniel spoke the words everyone was thinking. Letting Oscar finally breathe and have all the attention over to Lando and his desires.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

“Fuck, I needed you.” Oscar groans out, thrusting himself ever deeper into your mouth. “Talking ‘bout how vanilla we are. But look at us.” The position you were in was unimaginable. You lay on your back, head on the edge of the sofa as Oscar rammed into your mouth with his fingers opening you wide and making you cum. But still, that wasn’t enough, your hands tied together and a spreading bar made sure your legs couldn’t be shut, always ready for Oscar, but with a blindfold over your eyes how would you know? Each of your moans were muffled by his cock and as one of his hands played with your clit the other toyed with your nipple.

Blood rushed to your head from this position and it filled in for the loss of his hand around your neck. Oscar pounded into you, his dick making you gag as you deepthroated him. An explosion of fireworks inside of you as he continued making you cum, a loud scream trying it’s best to flee your puffy lips, but Oscar couldn’t help but enjoy hearing you struggle to make out any coherent sounds because of his cock. 

By now it was impossible to remember the amount of times he had made you release. From his mouth, fingers and dick, all you did know was that that number was only going to increase. 

Each of his moves were so intense, Oscar had you spellbound. Unable to notice anything other than him. Well that was until he pounded himself as deep as he could into your mouth and then stopped. Everything went silent.

“Oh fuck! Oscar?!” Those words certainly didn’t come out of your mouth, and when you realised who did say that, oh you couldn’t have been more embarrassed, but somehow aroused. Seconds later the door finally shut, and you could only think about the uncensored view Lando had of the both of you. 

“Fuck, I’ll deal with him later. But for now…you need to cum.” Pulling out of your swollen mouth and grabbing you off the couch to lay your shamelessly sinful body on the floor. Oscar doesn’t take his time, manhandling your legs so your feet are nearly inline with your head and then making your arms keep them back by going in front of the spreader bar.

Leaving your pussy so exposed and vulnerable that Oscar could do whatever he liked between those drenched folds. It was always a gamble with Oscar, sometimes he’d take his time to tease you, others he wouldn’t even give you time to catch breath. This was just as unpredictable as others, by now you would either be covered in your own tears from his edging or on the verge of passing out because you could feel him in your throat after coming in you repeatedly. 

You felt less of an advantage, not even being able to lay eyes on him, so you listened to your own heavy breathing until he touched you again. Fingers going between your folds and spreading them apart with his index and ring finger. Lightly teasing you with his middle one. “Looks like you’ve had enough today huh? Or can you take one more?” 

You nod your head as an answer, but it’s never enough as he asks you for words.

“Y-yes. I can take more.” You force out between breaths, in shock of how you even managed to say those words. 

“Oh really? Well that’s great.” Oscar holds your pliant body up even further and then makes a swift move of ramming himself deep inside of you. Once again it pulled all of the oxygen from your lungs and the stretch from the position couldn’t be compared to the stretch from his cock. You couldn’t complain as he thrusted in again and hit your g-spot. Bringing more tears to your red eyes.

Grunts and groans slipping past his lips and making his actions such a godly sensation. 

Oscar pounds himself into you with no mercy, finding pleasure in your moans and cries. You wish to hold him, dig your fingers into his shoulders and mark his back. Adorn his pale skin in love bites and make his lips swollen. Thinking about the way his body flexes with every thrust and how divine he would look from this position that you’ve been in many times but each new one has a different effect.

“What’d you think Lando’s telling them?” Oscar grips your thighs tighter–fingers certainly making bruises– keeping you in place as he vigorously rams inside of your overstimulated pussy. Never losing pattern or momentum.

“You think he’s telling them about how you took me so well? Your hands tied up? And how fucking good you looked between my legs.” Each of Oscar’s words having such an effect on you it could've been a trick of hypnotism. Your legs shaking and lips parted as you came. Oscar savoured the beautiful sounds leaving your mouth and he worked harder to fuck your high out and bring his in.

You clenched around him, forcing a moan to finally leave his lips and bless your ears. Oscar spasms and releases inside of you. Pushing himself so deep and his cum even deeper. He thrusts a few more times, easing both of you out and spreading his cum inside your walls. Oscar sits in you for a while before pulling out. “Fuck, that was so. Fucking. Good.” He starts untying you and helping you come undone from all of the restraints. Letting you lay flat on the floor as he did all the work.

“I would’ve been in you for hours if he didn’t come in. Can’t imagine what he said to them”

Oscar crawls up your body and plants a kiss on your lips. 

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

Finally leaving Oscar’s room you both didn’t know what to expect. Well definitely not drivers surrounding a small table as Lando spoke to them all with hand actions and his face even worse. 

“Y’know vanilla isn’t even that bad. But wow Piastri, I didn’t think that.” Daniel brings all the attention to you two. Every driver turned their head with a series of reactions on their faces.

“You are freaky Oscar.” Logan couldn’t hold back and somehow Fernando was there to agree with him.

“I have to tell Charles! Now I know what you two do.” Pierre smirks, making you blush and look at the ground.

“Well I guess I was wrong, but Oscar why didn’t you tell me you sneaky boy. Because then I had to see it.” 

“It seemed like you wanted to join.” 

“No I-”

“The way you’re speaking about Lando, it seemed like you wanted to join.” Daniel once again kind of saving Oscar from these unfortunate topics.

“What? Guys this is about Oscar and how freaky he is with his girlfriend!”

“If you want to join, just ask.” You finally speak, teasing Lando and watching the way his face changes. 

“Oh you guys are so not vanilla!”

[zarameraki]

♡🍼₊˚・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 ₊˚・🍼₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 toji loves boobs

: ̗̀➛ words: 982

: ̗̀➛ notes: this was requested by anon and i did post it through the ask but I wanted to post it separately hehe. ok enjoy

Toji had an outlandish kink. 

It developed shortly after you’d given birth. You didn’t understand why he’d stare at you as you breastfeed your child. Well, he mostly stared at your breasts in his classic Toji style. 

“What?” you bit out as he continuously watched you from the kitchen. You helped your baby latch onto your nipple and stared at your husband with a defiant look. “Oh, for God’s sake, Toji. Spit it out.” 

“I want a taste.” 

“Taste of what?” 

“What that little brat is drinking.” 

Your brows hit the roof of your hairline at his bizarre request. He couldn’t be—Wow, your husband had truly outdone himself in his kinks game. “Yeah, no fucking way. This milk is strictly for our child. If you’re so eager, open the fridge and pour yourself a cup. I’m pretty sure we’ve got cookies, too. But the oatmeal ones are mine—”

“I don’t give a fuck, doll. I wanna know what your milk tastes like.”

“Toji, are you out of your fucking mind? I’m not—You’re a grown ass man. I’m not going to, I don’t know, breastfeed you.” 

“I’m not asking you to breastfeed me. I only want a little taste. I’m fucking curious, sue me.” 

You scoffed, giving a small rock to your baby as he gargled and took small breaths in between the feeding. “Toji, I love you, and I love your abnormal requests during sex, but I’m not letting you taste my milk.” 

Toji stared at you with a frown. A puppy-dog frown that melted your heart and added cracks in your defenses. He lowered his eyes and resumed washing the dishes. “I only wanted a small taste,” he mumbled in the most adorable manner. 

Growling from your throat, you folded at his request. “Fine.” 

“Really?” 

“Just—Just give me a minute.” 

Toji abandoned the dishes and quickly sat next to you, ogling your breast. “What if he drinks you dry?” 

“What if you drink me dry?” 

“I don’t mind sharing. He’s my son, too.”  

You rolled your eyes and smiled down at your baby. After a few minutes of drinking, he unlatched his mouth and you handed him off to Toji to burp him. “Wait here. I’ll go use the suction pump—”

“Fuck no. I wanna drink it straight from the source.” 

You took in a deep, aggravated breath. “Fine, you dick. Put him to sleep and meet me back here.”

A tiny part of you was intrigued by Toji’s kink, but another was scared that he would drink you dry. The man was downright obsessed with breasts since the first night you slept together. During your pregnancy, he’d lay you back on his chest and massage them with scented oils, commenting how heavy they’d gotten. It was only a matter of time his curiosity regarding your chest would grow. 

You unhooked your nursing bra and placed it aside, laying down on the couch with a groan. Toji entered minutes later and immediately covered your body with his looming figure, giving you kisses across your face for being such a kind wife. “Whatever. Hurry up so I can eat something.” 

“I’ll cook,” he said, trailing kisses down to your neck and chest. “l’m gonna finger you, too, baby.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. 

Toji smiled and pushed his hands down your panties, parting your folds slowly growing wetter and wetter from his heated presence. He sought out your clit like the expert he was and rubbed it with gentle circles. Your lips parted with small, soft sounding sighs, fingers running through your hair and staying there. “That feels good, doll?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Yeah?” Toji pushed his middle and ring finger into your entrance. He began stimulating you with his quick thrusts. Your heels scraped up the couch’s surface, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip. 

Toji ran his coarse tongue over your right nipple. You glanced down at him and scoffed from his cheeky wink. He kissed the sensitive bud, then locked his mouth on it, pulling it in. You wrapped a leg around the back of his thighs, and your hands cupped the back of his head as he suckled on your nipple. He moaned and took laboured breaths from his nose, and when you glanced down, you found trickles of white liquid at the corner of his lips. 

“Toji, save some—”

He switched to your left nipple, leaving his fingers static inside your walls. He was too drunk on the taste of your breast milk to care about anything else. Your back arched from the sensation of him teething your nipple to produce more milk. Toji took his fingers out of your pussy and massaged your right breast. 

“Toji, that’s enough,” you breathed, using his hair to pull him away. Thankfully, he compiled and released your nipple with a pop sound, licking around his mouth to taste the last bits of your milk. “How was it?” 

Toji had to close his eyes and reel in a deep breath. “I’m gonna drink from these tits every night until they stop producing milk.” He gathered your breasts in both large palms and kissed the tips. “Gonna put a baby in you again so I don’t die of thirst.” 

You chuckled in disbelief and smacked his back. He stared lovingly at you and kissed your lips. You tasted nothing, really. “Mmm. You know, if you make me a big dinner afterwards, I’ll have more milk for our baby when he wakes up.” 

He narrowed his eyes. 

“What I’m saying is, you big buffoon, that whatever is left over now, is yours—ah!” 

You clutched to the back of his hair as he started drinking again, pulling up to sit on his lap. His strong arms stayed wrapped around your waist, mouth glued to your sore, puffy nipple. 

Sighing, you smiled and kissed the top of his head. “You’re a kinky idiot, Toji Zenin.” 

[afterglowsainz]

crush | lando norris

summary: charles pr manager is always looking at lando while he’s being interviewed and fans think she has a crush on him

fc: lily-rose depp

a/n: who said fanfic about THE MIAMI GRAND PRIX WINNER

—

liked by charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and others

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liked by charlesleclerc, carlossainz55 and others

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tagged landonorris, yourusername

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liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and others

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landonorris broke my nose, won my first grand prix, celebrated with my one and only❤️ nice weekend overall

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[danveration]

That no-good-first-man-on-earth

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: Alastor opens up to you (kinda). You confront him about his cane being gone, asking what happened after the early extermination attack.

Word count: (Around) 1154

Warnings: Mention of Adam dying, mention of death, mention of Al taking someone’s soul, ummm.. yes I think that’s about it!

A/N: YES I MADE IT !! the ending might be a bit rusty but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless! :’)

It was a week or two after the early extermination attack. The hotel has gotten a bit more residents and attention due to Charlie and the original residents protecting hell and successfully winning. The hotel has gotten an upgrade, that’s for sure. Lucifer now approves of its looks, so that says something.

During the attack you noticed how Alastor disappeared for a while and came back when it was all over. It made you question what happened when he went up against Adam. He was fine, physically. But you noticed something in his eyes that changed. Of course, he still smiles the same as before.. but it doesn’t always seem like he wants to. But the biggest, most obvious thing you noticed is that his staff/cane is gone. Nobody really seemed to question it but it set off an alarm in your brain because, well, he always has it on him.

You’re currently sitting in one of the lounge chairs in the lobby of the hotel, when you see Alastor confidently stroll in. He gives the lobby a quick look all around to see who’s all in there. In which, right now it’s just you.

“Hello, my dear!” He says, smiling and starts walking towards you.

“I must say, it’s rare that it’s empty in this area. Peace and quiet is often something I don’t have the luxury in experiencing, especially now that the hotel has gotten the attention that Charlie desperately craved.” He laughs.

He’s now standing beside you. You look up and smile back at him.

“Yeah, I’m happy for her though. She seems very overwhelmed, you know? But in a good way.” You say.

“Mm yes, she does, doesn’t she?”

You want to bring up how he doesn’t have his cane anymore, but you don’t know exactly how he’ll react. Though, he hasn’t ever snapped at you so you think it won’t be bad. Knowing him, he’ll probably just avoid the question by saying, “that’s for me to know.” As he does whenever someone brings up why he was absent for 7 years.

“Hey, Al?” You say, looking at him.

He raises his brow in question.

“Hm? What is it, dear?” He asks.

“I have a question.. you totally don’t need to tell me but I’ve just noticed that your um.. cane? You don’t have it anymore.”

You notice as you bring it up, Alastor tenses up and smiles more, darting his eyes away from you. You can feel that this was something he didn’t think you’d bring up.

He doesn’t seem to be saying anything, so you continue. “I was just wondering.. why is that? You usually keep it on you at all times. And also I’ve noticed that you’ve been a bit different since-“ You are stopped suddenly by Alastor using his shadow magic to teleport the two of you to his room.

You are caught by surprise, looking around disoriented, but than you realize where you are.

“Uhm- Al?” You question.

You assume he took you two to his room because he didn’t want anyone to hear the conversation, so you don’t question it. Which makes sense, he doesn’t want anyone else questioning his motives.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes and looks at you. “That is for me to know.” He says in a neutral tone.

Wow such a surprising statement.

“I knew you’d say that. Listen, you know you can talk to me, right? I’m here for you.” You assure him.

He looks at you weirdly, as if he is waiting for the joke line to happen. But it doesn’t. You care for him. That’s definitely new. Sure, Alastor has friends. Or, acquaintances, as he calls it. But you seem to deeply care for him and what happened.

He isn’t sure exactly how to react. “How amusing! That’s very kind of you.” He says and chuckles. You notice something in his eyes that doesn’t align with the emotion he is trying to project.

“Alastor, I’m serious. You don’t need to put on a show for me.. I want to know the real you.” You say, looking at him.

He debates if he should continue with his charades, but knows you’ll just see past it. He never ever would be this laid-back with anyone else accusing him of “putting on a show” or accusing him of having alternative feelings. He would’ve surely taken their soul or.. well, killed them by now. But you and his relationship has always been good. You guys always chat about whatever nonsense comes to mind, he showed you around the place where he records his radio broadcasts, and even let you attended once. He always had a soft spot for you. You never had a fear of him and never liked it when Husk or other people badmouthed him. He once caught you ranting to Niffty about how much you adored him. It made him smile.

Alastor squints his eyes and thinks of what to say.

“Well, my dear. You know that no-good-first-man-on-earth? Adam, I believe his name was.” He emphasizes the word “was,” seemingly to be very happy and satisfied now that he’s dead. He laughs continues, “he used his no-good angelic waves to break in half!” He says.

You’re in shock. Not because you thought his cane was indestructible or anything. It was because he actually told you what happened. You guess he trusts you more than he lets on.

“Oh..” You look at him sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Alastor.”

“Mm, yes. Me too. But no worries, dear. I can live without it.” He says trying to cover up the fact that he cares quite a lot.

Without thinking, you place a hand on his arm trying to give him comfort. He slowly moves his head to look at your hand. He doesn’t mind one bit, in fact, he feels the complete opposite of how he usual feels when people try to touch him.

You quickly remember he doesn’t like physical touch very much, so you move to pull away.

“No.” He says quickly.

You’re confused and question what he means.

“No, what?”

Your hand on his arm felt like a new sensation he hasn’t felt before. He quickly became embarrassed of his sudden outburst decline of you not taking his hand on his arm.

Something inside him snaps and his persona cracks, and he then does something that you’ve never expect.

He hugs you.

Your heart feels warm and you have butterflies in your stomach. THE Alastor, the radio demon is hugging you. You don’t see him as those labels though. You see him as HIM.

Despite your incredible shock in what is happening, you hug him back, wrapping your arms around his suit jacket.

“I do apologize.” He mumbles while hugging you.

“You don’t have to apologize, Alastor. This is what I wanted. For you to open up.” You say softly and smile.

He doesn’t pull away yet, and you don’t mind one bit.

A/N: IM THINKING OF MAKING A PART TWO WHERE THE READER MAKES HIM ANOTHER CANE AS A SURPRISE. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!!

[augustinewrites]

does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭

“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can. 

“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before. 

“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.

“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place. 

“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.

“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”

“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.” 

with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head. 

“satoru, please don’t freak out—”

he freaks out. 

he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”

you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”

“what grade curse was it?”

“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”

“you’re only grade one. why would they—”

“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”

“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.” 

“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”

“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”

“well when you come home hurt, yeah!” 

he regrets it as soon as he says it. 

and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“hey…”

he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.

_____

freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.

“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.” 

“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket. 

he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him. 

“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.” 

(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)

“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”

wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat. 

“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.” 

“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”

“ah. about that….”

_____

“alright, dinner’s served!”

you the kids exchange a look.

megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”

“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”

“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.

tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.

“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”

“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.

[haetrack]

thinking abt cockwarming w himbo!haechan but he gets too needy and pussy drunk that he just thrusts into u…

a/n: oh wow… wow… umm who else can’t breathe… pretend that a hard hour can be this long… i got too excited… mdni

-

“what are you doing, haechan?”

his grip on your hips loosen, finally realizing what he was doing. he takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down his mind. this was supposed to be a relaxing, bonding moment with you, but haechan couldn’t sit still. not when you’re wrapped so tightly around him.

“i… was trying to get comfortable…”

“of course you were.”

haechan came up to you today to randomly bring up how he wanted to try cockwarming. you weren’t surprised, considering who he is. it’s not that you didn’t want to do it with him, it’s more so not knowing if he’ll be able to keep still.

he quickly drags you to your bed once you agree, you try to see how long he can last. you’re quick to realize he can’t sit still for that long.

after five minutes of a small conversation, small sounds, and his hands holding your back, he starts moving. he’s shifting his hips around, tries to subtly stuff his cock deeper inside you. you wonder if he knows you can feel him getting hard.

there’s even a point where he tries to grind you down onto him, trying to get you to fuck him instead. you can’t have that though, which leads you to now.

“haechan, you wanted to do this.”

“i know, but you just-“ he hisses a bit when he shifts his hips up, “you just feel so good, baby.”

you can hear the pout in his voice, your eyes rolling at the whiny tone, “let’s just… let’s just go to sleep. if you can’t handle it like this, let’s just try to sleep.”

he lets out a shaky breath, eventually nodding at your words. your head rests at his shoulder, he can see how your eyes close.

he tries. he really tries to calm down and close his eyes. but how can he? he can’t when he feels your warm walls around him, can feel how every time you move, you push him in deeper. it’s really not his fault that he grows hard, he needs you.

his hands travel back down to your hips, trying hard not to grip onto them. he bites back a groan when he shifts under you, cock pushing into you. he can feel your walls clench around him, can feel your eyebrows furrow at the feeling.

you’re pulsing around him, can feel you start dripping all over his cock. he can’t hold back any longer, grip tightening on your skin as he mindlessly starts thrusting in you.

you gasp out in shock, his hands immediately moving to your back and caging you against him. he’s so close, you can hear the soft whines he lets out at the feeling of finally getting to fuck you.

“h-haechan, wait. you just-”

“you felt too good, needed to fuck your pretty pussy, i’m sorry-”

he sounds genuinely apologetic as his cock drives into your cunt. there’s no rhythm to his movements, too desperate and needy to form any proper thoughts. your slick makes a mess of his thighs, the loud squelch filling the room along with how noisy haechan’s being.

he’s babbling in your ear, saying that he’s sorry he couldn’t hold back, how good you feel, how he wishes he can have you like this forever. it gets to you, you can’t help but grind down onto him.

when he hits your sweet spot, you clench harshly down onto his cock. he throws his head back onto the pillows, moaning out your name as his fingers dig harshly into your skin. “g-gonna cum already, baby. you feel too good, can’t help it.”

you nod against his sweaty skin, eyes looking up and seeing how tears roll down his face. his cheeks are red, stained with his tears as he makes eye contact with you.

the sight of your pretty face is almost too much for him to handle, almost cumming at the sight. he’s so close, can feel his cock throbbing, overwhelmed by your sweet pussy.

it’s when you start bouncing your hips against his that he gives up, quickly cumming inside your cunt. he’s whimpering out your name, blunt nails digging into you. “thank you- fuck, thank you for letting me cum!”

his words set you off, seeing him so drunk on you causing you to cum all over his cock. his hips fuck into you when you clench around his, loud whimpers filling the air as you grind against him.

all that’s left in the room are your heavy breaths. haechan runs a hand up and down your back, kisses laid on top of your head. it’s quiet, except for the fact that you remember this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“you do know that literally wasn’t cockwarming, right, haechan?”

“i know… i’m sorry. we can try again! i know what i’m supposed to do now!”

you sigh, your hands making their way to his hair. he hums appreciatively, sinking into your touch. you suppose it wouldn’t be so bad to try again. you do question him though, “you promise?”

before he can nod, you shift on top of him. he tries hard to stop his cock from twitching, but fails. it only gets worse when he sees the annoyed look on your face, not being able to stop his hips rutting into yours.

his hands grip your ass, “well, we can always go for a round two, right?”

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ IN YOUR ARMS (I’M WARMEST) — GETO SUGURU.

contents. it’s a bit of a prequel to this drabble about the shower scene, but can be read as a stand alone, post hidden inventory arc, depressed suguru :(, small spoon suguru bc he deserves to be held, reverse comfort, established relationships, healing suguru agenda !! i’m passionate about this agenda !!!!!!!

usually, instead of you sneaking into suguru’s room, it’s the other way around. usually, he slips under your sheets and curls around your body, your combined giggles seeping into the sheets as he sneaks in a few hours of sleep with you in his arms before he inevitably has to leave before he’s caught.

tonight is different, though—suguru hasn’t come to your room to sleep with you in more than a few days. you don’t even think he even sleeps anymore, if the dark circles under his eyes are of any hint.

so you do the only thing you can think of: sneak into his room.

“hey, are you asleep?” you poke his shoulder—he’s had his back facing the door since you stepped in, and he’s made no move to face you.

“yes,” is all he says.

“wow,” you roll your eyes, “i’m risking a lot of wrath with yaga to be here, y’know. least you could do is face me.”

“you should sleep,” he mumbles, “you have a mission tomorrow.”

“it’ll be easy,” you say wave off, “i’ll be back before lunch time. we can eat together,” you offer.

suguru has hardly been eating—you notice this instantly. if you’d just get one chance to sit and have a meal with him, you’d force a few bites into him, but it’s been a busy week. for all of you. you haven’t properly seen satoru in what feels like ages—the newest missions he’s been assigned have been much more complex, much more difficult for anyone else but him to handle.

he hasn’t known rest since that day.

suguru is alone more now, on missions and once he’s returned. the gap between him and everyone else feels like it gets wider and wider every day. he’s become more distant, in more ways than one.

“you shouldn’t say that. you never know what happens on a mission,” he says seriously. “be careful.”

the last part, barely, just barely, sounds like a plead.

you sigh, wrapping yourself around his back and pulling him against your chest, slipping a hand under his shirt and rubbing slow circles into his bare skin. he likes the feeling, it’s always soothed him.

“i’m always careful,” you murmur, “i’ll bring you soba on my way back. will you eat for me, sugu? just for me,” you pout theatrically.

suguru is always weak to your dramatics—it’s your appeal. he finds it cute, always gives you a chuckle as he caves and gives you exactly what you want.

this time, he doesn’t offer you so much as a hum.

“if i’m hungry,” he mumbles.

“baby,” you sigh, nose burying into his hair. the strands are slightly knotted—something that suguru never lets happen with his hair. “you need to start looking after yourself more. i’m getting worried about you.”

“you don’t need to worry about me,” he mutters, “you should go and sleep.”

deep down, you know he’s gently telling you to leave. suguru is asking you to leave—but you know if you leave, something might change. something irreversible. so you wrap your arms tighter around him, pull him closer as hold his body against yours.

“i always worry about you. and you should sleep too,” you say simply, “we can sleep together.”

he’s silent.

so you let him stay like that, rubbing over his abs slowly and tracing the skin, writing your name with the tip of your finger lightly so he knows he’s yours even when he acts like he’s alone. you press a kiss to his head, and because he’s still your suguru, he melts just the slightest bit against you.

progress.

“hey,” you whisper, chin resting on his shoulder. you watch his head turn slightly as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

“what?” he sighs.

“i’ll take care of you, so you don’t have to, okay?” you promise gently. if suguru can’t find it in him to look after himself, he doesn’t need to—not when you’re here. “we’ll start slow, yeah? tomorrow you’ll shower. and then i’ll feed you.”

“you don’t have to—”

“shh,” you hiss, reaching over to press a finger to his lips, “i’ll bring your favorite, and then i’ll feed you like the princess you are. it’ll be nice, trust me.”

“but—”

“i’ll even give you a kiss for every bite. how does that sound?”

he sighs, hand resting on top of yours as you stay rubbing circles into his skin.

“good,” he whispers, “sounds good.”

“i love you, baby,” you kiss his head again, “i’m sorry i haven’t been here all week.”

“it’s not your fault,” he insists, “it’s…it’s been busy for us all. i don’t mind—”

“i’ll make more time for you,” you say firmly, “i promise. okay?”

you’re not sure if you imagine it, but you think his exhale might be a little shaky. and then he nods against you, leaning back so his body is pressing into yours even further. you wrap your arms tighter around him and pull the sheets until they’re under his chin, making sure he’s covered all the way.

it’s cold in his room at night—you can’t always make it warmer, but you can try to share your heat.

“okay,” he says after a while, “i’ll shower tomorrow.”

“good,” you nod, “i’ll handle the rest. now get some sleep, yeah?”

he nods—but even as you slowly doze off, sleep doesn’t come to him. but it’s not so lonely to stay up tonight, and the bed doesn’t feel stiff under his back. his hand is still on top of yours, finger tracing lightly over your knuckles.

“i love you too,” he mumbles—you don’t hear it, but he still wants to say it.

it’s a start.

i should just write a progressive series of suguru slowly healing and then we can have teacher suguru bc imagine him writing on a chalkboard with chalk. yeah. it’s okay if you moan at the idea i did too. i won’t judge !!

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

He’s staring at him.

Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.

The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.

“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.

“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.

“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”

“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”

Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”

“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”

Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.

Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”

Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”

Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”

Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.

“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”

Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”

He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”

“To- to prove you’re from the future?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”

He blinks. “What?”

Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”

Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”

Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”

“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.

A ring Eddie already has on his finger.

“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.

His hands start shaking.

“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”

“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.

“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect

[steddiealltheway]

(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)

Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”

“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.

“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”

“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”

All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”

Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”

“We’ve never done a livestream.”

“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”

“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.

Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”

“You never know!”

Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.

“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.

Eddie pauses and turns around.

“What money am I using to by this stuff?”

Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”

Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”

Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jeff, give me your phone.”

Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”

“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.

Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”

Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”

Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.

Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”

“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.

“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”

“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.

Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”

Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”

“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”

Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.

Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”

Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”

Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”

He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.

Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”

All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”

“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.

Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”

“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.

Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”

“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.

“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.

Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.

“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.

He freezes.

“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.

Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.

“What?” Gareth asks.

Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”

The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.

Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”

“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.

“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.

Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.

Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”

Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”

They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.

They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.

They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”

The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.

“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.

Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”

Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.

“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”

Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”

“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.

As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.

“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.

“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.

“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.

“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.

Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.

As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?

This is Steve Harrington by the way

Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????

He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.

can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it

eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything

okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad

eddieeeee

eddie stop ignoring me

if you don’t respond im going to send your number

okay

im sending it

if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again

Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.

And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”

Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.

Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”

“Zero.”

Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”

“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”

Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”

Eddie sits up. “What?”

“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”

“To punch me?”

Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”

Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.

“Eddie? Are you still there?”

“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”

“No way,” Eddie calls him out.

“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”

Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah.”

Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.

“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.

Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”

Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”

Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”

Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”

Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”

Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”

“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.

Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.

Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

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