#Pls tell me if this seems like a dumbass idea

[ellecdc]

DONT TEASE ME WITH PLATONIC BARTY AND BIG BRITHER SIRIUS STOP IM ON MY KNEES PLEASEE 🪩

okay so this accidentally ended up being almost 5.5k words??? whoopsie daisy.

this concept was a collaboration with @unstablereader and also intertwined a few requests for best friend Barty, big brother Sirius, and poly!moonwater hurt comfort!!

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who was bitten over the winter hols

CW: Best Friend Barty (i.e., swearing, chaos, slight insanity), Big Brother Sirius (i.e., coddling, bad cop, certified dumbass), swearing swearing swearing, slight muggle blasphemy, description of wounds/blood/injury, discussion of Sacred 28 Pureblood Families, etc etc etc - hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

Barty Crouch Junior was a plethora of dichotomies and contradictions. 

He was a good friend and a bad son. He was a smart boy who made horrible ideas. He was a rational person with unreasonable reactions. He was a menace and very reliable. He was a good lay and a bad boy. 

Barty liked that about himself though; he liked that no one ever knew what to expect when it came to Bartemus Crouch Junior. 

Though, he supposed to those who knew him, it would have been completely predictable for him to have stayed at Hogwarts over the winter holidays. Maybe he should have gone home – really surprised everyone then.

His nightly routine of trying to incendio Daily Prophet articles of his father with nonverbal and wandless magic was interrupted by an awkward thump on his dorm room door. 

“Come in?” Barty called awkwardly, unsure who might be at his door seeing as his friends were all home for the holidays and the staff here tended to avoid him like Dragon Pox.

The doorknob began to rattle but it sounded as if the person on the other side of the door was struggling to turn it.

“Salazar’s saggy balls. WHAT!?” He seethed as he ripped the door open, determined to teach whoever was stupid enough to bother him a lesson when he came face to face with you.

Except...except you were crying, and bloody, and so pale.

“Treasure!?” Barty squawked, awkwardly catching you as you began to slide down the door frame which you were leaning the entirety of your weight on. 

“Barty...I-” you started before a pained sob tore through your teeth. “I need help.”

“What happened?” Barty asked breathlessly, moving you from the door to his bed without your help after your left leg gave out on you.

“Barty...”

“What. Happened. Y/N?” He demanded.

“Barty, you cannot- cannot tell Reg and Remus. Pl- hnggh - please promise me you won’t tell them.”

“Tell them what, Treasure? What’s wrong!?” Barty pressed, beginning to panic when his bedding quickly became saturated with your blood. 

“Promise me!” You shrieked, your voice carrying the most clarity since you had arrived.

“Okay! I promise!” Barty agreed readily. You didn’t seem convinced, however.

You shakily held your pinky out to him and stared intensely at him. “Promise me that y-, that you will not tell Remus or, or Regulus.”

Barty looked between your eyes and your pinky before finally interlocking your pinky with his. “I promise I will not tell Remus or Regulus.”

More tears fell as you began pulling your long winter robes off. You were wearing a long sleeved shirt and long trousers, but Barty could tell most of the bleeding was coming from your leg. Your fingers were shaking too much as you unsuccessfully tried unbuttoning your trousers, so Barty silently asked for your permission before undoing the button and zip for you.

You pulled the pants to your knee to expose a large...werewolf bite on your left thigh.

“Treasure.” Barty breathed out horrified, looking back up at you with tears in his eyes. “What...what happened? No, I ... I can see what happened. How did this happen?”

“I...I just-”

And you passed out.

“No! No no no. Nononononono.” Barty chanted as he tried to rouse you awake.

“Okay Barty, come on, think. You didn’t achieve all twelve O.W.L’s for naught.” He berated himself, lying you down on his bed and pulling your trousers the rest of the way off.

He turned you onto your right side and tried elevating your leg to stop the blood flow after he realized a simple episkey was not going to close the wound.

He realized that the reason you’d been struggling to open the door was that your wrist appeared to be broken, and you’d been leaning onto the doorframe to keep your weight off of your injured leg. That he could fix with an episkey, so at least he wasn’t completely useless. 

His sweet, sweet Treasure. Bitten. By a werewolf!? Your parents...

Oh gods, your parents.

That’s why you were here.

You couldn’t go back home, not as a werewolf; your parents would kill you. The only thing worse to a Sacred 28 Family than a dead daughter would be a werewolf one.

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Any why couldn’t he tell Lupin and Regulus!? Lupin was probably the only person who could actually help you right now. Barty hated that – hated that someone else could help you and he couldn’t – but he also loved that you had people who loved you and could help you.

Fucking fuck, he was supposed to be burning moving pictures of his father right now, not trying to bring his best friend back from the brink of death.

“That’s enough Treasure, you need to wake up.” He muttered, shaking you by your shoulders gently. When that still didn’t work, he cast a quick rennervate. 

You groaned in pain and tried rolling onto your back. 

“No, Y/N, you need to stay like this. I need you to tell me what happened.”

You moaned again and turned back towards him; eyes shut tight in pain. 

“I...I needed to leave I, I – ugh.”

“Okay, okay. So you left, that much I can understand. How’d you get bitten?”

“I didn’t, I didn’t know it was there until it was too late, Barty. I swear it. I was following the trail behind my-my house and it just appeared! I fell back- backwards onto my arm when it lunged and I apparated once I realized what was happening, but it was...it was too- too late.”

“Where were you trying to go?”

“The Potter’s.”

“And why can’t you go there now?”

You opened your eyes at that, and Barty felt his heart fall out of his ass at the amount of pain that spilled from your eyes that had nothing to do with any of your various physical injuries.

“Rem... Rem hates himself. He hates The Wolf, he ha- hates his lycanthropy; he thinks he is a m... monster and deserves nothing. Barty, he’ll hate me.” You broke into a sob at the end of your sentence and Barty was very close to joining you.

He didn’t think you were right at all, mind you; he thinks it’d be rather impossible for anyone to hate you, least of all Lupin who seemed completely lovesick for you and Regulus. He didn’t think it was worth your energy to argue with you about it though, seeing as he already pinky promised not to go to the lycanthrope or your other boyfriend about this.

He didn’t know what to do, though. He needed to close this wound and stop the bleeding, he needed to pilfer from the infirmary, he needed to pilfer the potions supply closet, and he needed to figure out how to help a werewolf. And he needed to do all of these things whilst somehow not leaving your side at all. 

“I’m tired, Barty.” You murmured quietly, startling him from his internal panic.

“You can’t sleep, Treasure. Not until we close this wound and stop the bleeding.”

He pulled out his third year DADA textbook to find the chapter on werewolves. 

“Dangerous creature this, loss of moral sense that, right then – powdered silver and dittany applied to a fresh bite wound.” Barty recited as he read off his textbook. He looked over to your wound, still oozing and bleeding, though the new angle and elevation did seem to be helping staunch the blood flow at least a little.

“Right... fresh enough I suppose.” Barty sighed, making you promise to stay awake long enough for him to raid the potions supply closet and the infirmary to get the necessary ingredients.

Barty had been feeling quite confident in his plans.

Except something was very, very wrong.

The dittany and powered silver bubbled slightly where it interacted with your blood and flesh but didn’t seem to be sticking to your wound at all; it seemed that it was just causing you to moan in agony as Barty uselessly tried spreading it over your leg.

“You’re sure it was a werewolf that bit you?” He asked again. Barty was certain that if you were feeling better, you would have kicked at him.

He wished you could have kicked at him.

“Yes, Barty.” You cried.

“Oh, Treasure, I’m sorry.” He lamented, putting down his bowl of useless silver paste and brushing sweaty hairs away from your forehead.

“Salazar, you’re burning up, Y/N.” He commented, cupping your heated and flushed face with his hand. 

“I’m cold.” You argued, awkwardly trying to pull at his bedsheets to cover your arms. Barty hated to add more layers on you when your fever was this high, but he couldn’t really bring himself to deny you, either. 

Unfortunately, it appeared that Barty needed help. 

Unfortunately, Barty made you a promise.

Fortunately, there were ways around that. 

Unfortunately, that meant having to resort to a fate worse than death.

“Oh! Hello there.” Mrs. Potter greeted Barty as she rounded the corner after being alerted by the house elf that there was a student at the floo. “Are you looking for Regulus?”

Barty adorned his most charming (and least maniacal) grin as he bowed politely to Mrs. Potter like the proper Pureblood he'd been beaten raised to be. 

“Euphemia Potter – looking as smashing as ever.” He said before returning to his full height. “Actually, I’m here for the lesser Black brother today.”

Mrs. Potter narrowed her eyes at his comment but pursed her mouth as if fighting back a smile.

“Am I to assume you’re referring to Sirius, Barty?”

Barty sighed in admiration. “Smart and pretty, Euphemia; how do you do it?”

“I’ll be right back, Mr. Crouch.” Mrs. Potter called over her shoulder as she left the floo reception room. Barty quickly pulled out the charmed compact mirror he had connected to a hand mirror which he had set up beside you before he left. You were asleep and shivering violently, but you were alive.

Help is coming, Treasure. 

“Oh.” Barty heard, causing him to close the mirror and look up to see a confused looking Sirius pausing mid-step into the room. “Sorry, I’ll go get Regulus for you.”

Barty scoffed derisively. “Oh, come off it Black – give the woman a little credit, yeah? I asked for you. Now let’s go.” He barked, turning towards the floo flame.

He turned back when he realized Sirius wasn’t following him.

“Hello??” He called sarcastically. “Did you not hear me? I said let’s go.”

Sirius looked Barty up and down and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Why in the hells would I go anywhere with you?” Sirius asked bemusedly. 

“Black!” Barty seethed. “I do not have time for this, we have to go now.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.”

Barty sighed and looked down to the hells for patience or possibly extra strong demonic powers to get through this conversation with Sirius. 

“Where is Regulus right now?”

Sirius considered Barty skeptically but answered, nonetheless. 

“Upstairs with Remus.”

Barty looked at Sirius at that. “Is it safe to assume he is helping him recover from last night?”

Sirius’ face fell and he levelled Barty with a hard glare. “What the hell are you on about, Junior?”

“Black, please believe that there is absolutely nothing in this realm that I’d rather be doing than sitting here asking for your help but I’m here doing just that.”

“For what?”

Regulus was here, and Regulus was helping Lupin, which meant that Lupin was also here with his supernatural hearing. Barty made you a promise – he would not tell Regulus or Remus what has happened.

“I need your help, because I’ve found a lost Treasure that seems to be in some Trouble.” Barty explained slowly, praying to every god that Sirius would pick up on his not-so-subtle clues.

Sirius’ eyes stayed narrowed at Barty before they grew comically in understanding. 

“Where is-”

“Not here.” Barty interrupted. “Grab your things and come with me.”

“I have so many fucking questions.” Sirius muttered as he stepped through the floo, somehow ending up standing in the Slytherin common room. 

“Like?” Barty asked in a bored tone.

“How the hell did you manage to connect the floo network to the Slytherin common room?” He started, realizing that it probably wasn’t the most important question, but it seemed to take precedence in his mind.

Barty turned to sneer at Sirius, though his steps never faltered as he sped towards what Sirius could only assume was his dorm.

“Really, Black? I tell you that your future sister-in-law is in dire need of your help, and that’s what you’re- you know what? I’m not surprised. The floo network is easy to manipulate so long as you know how to dismantle ancient wards.” Barty explained dismissively.

 Easy. Dismantle ancient wards. Sure.

“What’s wrong with Y/N?” He asked much more seriously. Most (though not all) of the contempt drained from Barty’s face as he stopped in front of a door. 

“She...she was bitten.”

Sirius just stared dumbly at the absolute last person he imagined he'd be spending his morning with as he let that information process.

He wasn't given much time, however, as Barty quickly opened the door and disappeared into the room, clearly unbothered to see if Sirius was following him in or not.

“Treasure? Hey, hey; it’s okay. Look? I brought some help, okay? You’re alright.” He cooed at a curled-up form on his bed – your curled-up form.

“Oh, Trouble.” Sirius breathed out in disbelief, surveying your shaking and battered body before his gaze paused on your exposed thigh – clear as day was a large canine bite, still bleeding. 

“Oh, my girl.” Sirius cooed, feeling like he might be sick at the sight of one of his favourite people in the world in so much pain. It was very different from post moon care with Remus; Remus was seasoned, he was prepared, they were prepared.

You looked like you were dying.

“What’s wrong with her?” Sirius asked quickly, shaking himself and trying to force himself into action.

“Other than the very obvious werewolf bite?” Barty sneered. “She has a fever that won’t quit.”

“Take the blankets off.” Sirius ordered, earning him a whimper from your form.

“S’cold, Siri.” You whined.

“I know, Trouble, but you’re burning up.” He replied apologetically, pulling the blankets out of your currently much weaker grasp.

Barty looked like he was just as heartbroken as you were at the loss of the warmth, but clearly agreed with Sirius enough not to argue. 

“Mean.” You pouted; eyes still screwed shut in pain.

“I know, I’m the worst.” He whispered, casting a quick auguamenti and glacius on a rag and placing it on your head, earning him another protesting groan from you.

“Why’s her leg still bleeding?” Sirius asked, eyes still on your face as he used the cloth to wipe away the sweat from your features. He quickly prepared two more rags and placed them on the back of your neck and your chest. 

“I don’t know. I followed the instructions from our DADA textbook on werewolves – three tablespoons of powdered silver mixed with four tablespoons of dittany to create a paste. It did nothing but hurt her and aggravate me.” He admitted, sounding horribly dejected.

“Where’s the silver from?”

“Slughorn’s supply closet.”

Sirius groaned. “That’s why. The school buys the cheapest ingredients they can to keep costs low. That won’t be pure silver.”

“Well, where in the hells are we supposed to find pure silver then?” Barty groaned. 

Of all the times for Sirius to not be at Grimmauld Place anymore – that place was teeming with pure silver.

Pure...

Toujours pur. 

“Regulus.” Sirius whispered no louder than a breath. You didn’t seem to hear him, your lucid moment clearly over; but Barty did.

“I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.” He explained plainly, causing Sirius to groan.

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

Barty turned his face to glare at Sirius. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I heard you, Junior. So, what are we going to do then?”

Barty let out a long-suffering sigh. “I promised Y/N I wouldn’t tell Lupin or Regulus.”

Sirius’ brows furrowed and he cautiously lifted his hand to press the back of it to Barty’s head, checking for fever of his own. Barty aggressively swatted him away.

“Are you quite alright, Junior? Is this a stroke?”

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Black. Okay? Are you listening to my words?”

Sirius nodded at him as Barty grabbed Sirius by the shoulders and stared imposingly into his eyes. “I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – promised that sweet, lovely Treasure you call Trouble over there, that I – Bartemus Crouch Junior – would not tell Remus Lupin or Regulus Black. I promised her.” 

Now, Sirius feels it’s important to note that it was currently maybe seven o’clock in the morning, and he’d only just stepped out of the shower after washing away a night of romping in the woods around Potter Manor with Moony as Padfoot last night to be told there was someone at the floo for him; in other words, he was fucking exhausted. And to add to that, he had one of his least favourite people tell him that one of the worst possible things happened to one of his favourite people. So, sue him for what he said next.

“I don’t understand.” 

“Fucking son of a mother fucking cunt, I swear to that fucking muggle-religion-wizard-guy-that-caused-the-whole-brew-ha-ha-in-that-big-ass-muggle-tome I will shave that fucking head of yours and wear your hair as a wig; I cannot tell Lupin and Regulus.” Barty spat, though somehow managed to keep his voice low enough to not gain your attention.

“Yes, yes, yes. You promised her.” Sirius lamented. “You p- wait... you promised her. You promised her.”

“Thank Merlin and Morgana.” Barty groaned as fell to his knees in exhaustion, clearly more than thankful that Sirius had finally gotten it. 

“I’ll be back.” Sirius announced and started towards the fireplace in the Slytherin common room in order to retrieve his brother. 

Regulus looked up from the pages of his novel to survey Remus’ form again. His boyfriend laid on his back with his head propped up on two pillows and his eyes closed as the soft morning light filtered its way through the sheer curtains and painted his features in its warm glow.

Regulus knew Remus was likely exhausted and sore and perhaps feeling awfully sorry for himself right now, but Regulus wasn’t sure he ever looked more beautiful. 

“You should take a picture; it’ll last longer.” Remus commented dryly, never bothering to open his eyes as a smile danced on his lips.

“Ha ha.” Regulus deadpanned, returning his gaze to his book with a blush taking over his face.

“You worry too much, love. I’m okay.” 

“I know you’re okay.” Regulus argued.

“Yet you still worry?”

“Yet I still worry.” 

Regulus heard Remus’ head turn against his pillow, and he looked back up to see Remus regarding him.

“Have you heard from her by chance?” Remus whispered as if fearing the answer he knew was coming.

Regulus knew it was you who Remus referred to; they’d been waiting quite impatiently for your owl for the past few days.

You had promised to write as often as you could - every day if possible – over the winter holidays. The last correspondence they had with you was four days ago as you told them of some family gathering at your home.

He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but he could tell he was caught at the disappointed sigh from Remus.

“No, mon loup. I’m sorry.” Regulus admitted.

Remus let out another sigh and leaned his head back down on the pillows, squishing his eyes shut as if the pain of not knowing how you were was more painful than the current aching in his bones.

“Hey, Reg?” Regulus heard his brother call from the door. 

“He’s awake.” Regulus called back simply.

“How’re you feeling, Moons?” Sirius asked, walking towards the end of the bed with his hands in his pocket.

“Been worse.” Remus answered.

“I...” Sirius started, cutting himself off with a sigh.

“Spit it out, Sirius. We’ve not got all day.” Regulus drawled and put his book down. He couldn’t stop his heart rate from picking up when he noticed Sirius’ discontent, however; sudden flashbacks of Sirius standing in Regulus’ doorway begging him to pack his things and leave with him bombarding his mind.

“What is it, Pads?” Remus asked, seeming to pick up on his friend’s anxiety as well.

“I need your help.” He admitted. “It’s...it’s Y/N.”

Remus sat up all too quickly and winced at the cracking of his back.

“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay?” He asked, trying to free himself from the bedding that Regulus had tucked him into hours earlier.

“No, well, yes...she-”

“Where is she?” Regulus whispered in horror.

“With Junior. At Hogwarts.”

Regulus relaxed slightly to at least know you were safe at Hogwarts and with Barty, though that raised more questions than answers for him.

“How do you know that?” Regulus asked, all the while Remus continued struggling to dress himself despite his various aches and pains. 

“Junior told me.” Sirius admitted, finally taking pity on his friend and helping him dress whilst his boyfriend sat their uselessly. 

“Why did he tell you? When did he tell you?”

“This morning!” Sirius barked, clearly growing agitated, “listen, I just-”

“What happened to her, Sirius?” Remus begged, finally taking a moment to catch his breath and stare at his friend imploringly. “What happened to her that Junior told you and not us?”

Sirius swallowed thickly before he answered.

“She was bitten, Rem.”

All colour drained from Remus’ face and Regulus sat stock still.

“Was it me?!” Remus asked through a choked sob. This seemed to snap Regulus out of his uselessness and he reached for Remus’ shoulder to squeeze it affectionately.

“No, no. Moony, no one was there last night. I swear it.”

“What...why do you need my help? What do you need?” Regulus asked quietly, standing to pull on his own jacket and retrieving his and Remus’ wands from the dresser. 

“We can’t get the wound to close, and she’s got a wicked fever that we can’t bring down. She’s barely lucid, she's lost an insane amount of blood, and the silver at the school didn’t work to close it and-”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Remus agreed breathlessly.

“Why not?”

“Too costly to give pure powdered silver to a bunch of students who make throw away potions – they only use what works in the brew but not in practice.” Remus explained, groaning as he stood and quickly transfigured his suitcase into a cane on account of his hip after the transformation. 

“So, you need pure silver? Like... the ring!” Regulus whispered, hastily ripping the Black Family signet ring from his thumb and passing it to Sirius.

“We need to go now. She can’t afford to lose any more blood, and it should have been closed immediately.” Remus pressed, making his way to the door albeit a little shakily. 

Regulus was sick with worry; for you, your life, your future, your family, for Remus and how upsetting this must be for him as well, but something still wasn’t making any sense.

“Why did Barty tell you?” Regulus asked as they stepped through the floo into the Slytherin common room, making a mental note to ensure that it was closed before the rest of the students returned from winter holidays.

Sirius grimaced slightly and turned to look at his friend who he was supporting as they followed Regulus to the dorm room.

“She...she made him promise not to tell you guys.” Sirius admitted.

Remus’ steps faltered and Regulus turned, ready to help Sirius in catching him, only to notice that he wasn’t falling but rather had stopped walking all together.

“Why wouldn’t she want us to know?” Remus asked mournfully.

“I never did hear why.” Sirius admitted, encouraging Regulus forward with a nod of his head.

The three of them entered the room to find Barty sitting on a low stool beside you with his pinky interlinked with yours. Your eyes were still shut tightly and your breathing was shallow, but Regulus could hear Barty talking lowly to you and your occasional responses. 

“I like that song about the fighter, the writer, and the ruler.” Barty murmured quietly to you.

Your brows twitched as you gritted out “it’s Soldier, Poet, King.”

“Ah, right you are, Treasure.” Barty responded, looking over his shoulder at the new additions to the room. “You always know everything.”

“How is she?” Sirius asked as he dropped the signet ring inside the mortar and pestle and traded seats with Barty who began to grind it into powder, and Regulus and Remus moved to stand near the end of the bed to take in your form.

“Hanging in there, Black.” Barty responded to Sirius, though he looked at Regulus as he said it.

Sirius must have noticed Regulus’ death glare being pointed at Barty and opted to intervene. 

“Hey, Trouble?” Sirius asked you gently, brushing some of your damp hair away from your forehead. You hummed in acknowledgement without opening your eyes.

“Why didn’t you want Remus and Regulus to know, sweets?”

You whimpered as your face morphed into agony, eyes finally opening to look at Sirius through fat tears.

“Remus will hate me.”

Remus actually whimpered at that, clearly itching to move towards you, but not wanting to interrupt you.

“Why would he hate you, sweets?”

“He hates werewolves.”

Remus’ head dropped in shame as Regulus rubbed soothing circle into his back. 

“But he loves you, Trouble.” Sirius pressed, watching Remus all the while.

“Not anymore.” You sighed in resignation, closing your eyes once more.

“Always, dove.” Remus insisted. You squeezed your eyes tightly as if you were trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t there. 

“Do you hear me? I will always love you. There is nothing that could ever happen that would make me hate you, okay?” He carried on, slowly making his way to the other side of the bed in order to curl up behind you and pull your back into his front. 

You whimpered, though Regulus was sure it was less from physical pain and more in distress.

“What about Reggie?” You cried as Sirius continued rubbing his thumb across your forehead. 

“It’s almost ready.” Barty interrupted as he began measuring out the silver and dittany. 

“Reggie thinks the world of you, dove.” Remus murmured into your hair, looking over at Regulus imploringly. 

“You’ve got a lot of people who care about you, Trouble.” Sirius added. “We’re not going to let you do this alone.”

“It’s done, Treasure. We’re gonna fix you up.” Barty said as he made his way over, keeping his eyes trained on Regulus. 

“Dovey, this is going to hurt an awful lot, okay? But you’re so brave, you’re so brave and then you’ll feel all better, okay?” Remus spoke into your hair, keeping you pressed tightly to his form as you began to struggle against his hold. 

“Regulus, you need to be brave for her.” Sirius ordered, looking as severe as Regulus ever remembers his older brother being. 

What could Regulus have ever done to make you think it was at all possible for him to feel anything but love for you?

How could Regulus ensure that you never thought such things again?

“I’m right here, amour. Okay? You’ve got four of us here who love you, we’re not going anywhere.” He pressed, moving to take over Sirius’ place on Barty’s short stool as Sirius positioned himself close to your feet.

“I don’t want to hurt.” You cried, breathing becoming slightly erratic as Remus added more pressure in keeping your arms pinned to your sides.

“I know, amour. It’ll be over soon, okay?” Regulus tried, brushing hair away and pressing his lips to your overly hot forehead.

“You’re so brave, Y/N. We’ve got you, okay? Such a brave girl, come on babylove, you’re okay.” Remus chanted, looking over at Sirius as he pinned your ankles to the bed and Barty transfigured a stirrer in an applicator.

“Please. I don’t want to.” You begged.

“You’re so brave.” Remus repeated, pressing his mouth to the top of your head as his own tears fell into your hair.

“Do it.” Regulus insisted, not wanting to prolong this anymore.

Regulus nearly dropped his wand in his haste to throw up a silencing charm around the dorm room as your screams bounced off the stone walls in time with Barty’s first swipe of the ointment. 

Regulus couldn’t hear the words spilling from Remus’ lips, but he knew that he was whispering sweet encouragements to you as he cried in sympathy. Sirius looked to be using all his strength to keep your legs pinned down as you struggled, and his eyebrows furrowed on your behalf as well.

“You’re okay, amour. You’re okay.” Regulus insisted for both of your benefits, watching as Barty applied the last of the paste to your leg.

“Now what!?” Barty shouted over your agonized cries.  

“Breathe dove, breathe. The pain will fade, just breathe.” Remus coached, rocking the both of you gently back and forth as you sobbed.

“You’ve done so well, amour, so well. Ma courageuse fille; you’re so brave.” Regulus praised, taking both of your hands into his and pulling them from Remus’ grasp to press kisses to your knuckles. “Tu as si bien fait, tu es la personne la plus forte que je connaisse.”

It took some time and many more encouragements before your sobs decreased into pitiful hiccups and whimpers as you looked towards Regulus. 

“You don’t hate me?” You asked pitifully.

Regulus used his thumb to wipe away the tears that were still falling as Remus caressed your arms.

“It never even crossed my mind, cheri. I could never; non.” Regulus insisted. 

“I’m so sorry, dove.” Remus whispered into your head. “I’m so sorry this has happened to you.”

“Remus.” Sirius warned. 

“Not because it makes her any less lovely, Sirius. But because she doesn’t deserve it.” Remus explained. 

“I’m scared.” You admitted timidly.

“I know, dove.”

“Lucky for you, Trouble, you’ve got some seasoned professionals here.” Sirius added, nudging Remus’ foot. 

“Can I start the animagus process now, Rem?” Regulus groaned, looking at Remus pointedly. 

“I guess it wouldn’t be fair to make you sit out on full moons now.” Remus relented – he’d always hated the idea of putting the two of you in any undue danger, but he couldn’t deny Regulus of the two of you, nor you of Regulus; not when you would need him most.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Barty interrupted, moving his skeptical glance between the four of you. “You’re telling me that animagi can romp around with the likes of werewolves?”

Remus nuzzled his face impossibly further into your head as Sirius chuckled. 

“Werewolves don’t care about animals. In fact, it makes them quite happy to have a ‘pack’.” Sirius explained.

Barty laughed conspiratorially. “Well, sign me the fuck up. Regulus, I’ll buy the first mandrake leaf; my treat!” He called as he grabbed his jacket and wand and headed for the door, likely heading to Hogsmeade for supplies in his excitement. 

“Moony is not going to like him.” Sirius proclaimed flippantly, finally falling into a chair in exhaustion after Barty was gone.

“It’s not just about him, anymore.” Remus responded, pressing a kiss to your head. Regulus could tell your fever was reducing, though your cheeks were still flushed.

You had a lot to discuss; what happened, why it happened, and where to go from here. But for now, Regulus was just happy you were alive, currently safe, surrounded by people who loved you, and agreeable to him running you a bath. 

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #moonwater #moonseeker #poly!moonwater #poly!moonwater x reader #poly!moonwater x you #poly!moonseeker #poly!moonseeker x reader #poly!moonseeker x you #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus deserved better #remus lupin x regulus black #werewolf #werewolf!reader #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #barty crouch jr #sirius black #ellecdc fics

[haunted-headset]

Wilbur talking about YN at a concert and YN just happened to be streaming and chat told her. Then once wilbur gets back from tour (theyre roommates) YN mentions it and wilbur gets all flustered 🤭

💬 Everybody Talks Too Much 💬

Summary: Wilbur was talking about Y/N at a concert and Y/N happened to be streaming & her chat told her. Then, once Wilbur gets back from the tour, Y/N mentions it & Wilbur gets flustered AF

A/N: guys go follow @joviepog, they're basically one of the reasons you guys get fanfics. Also, this title was based off of a song called Everybody Talks :p

pairing: CC!Wilbur x afab!musician!reader

pronouns used for reader: She/her/hers

tags: @vibestillaxxx @joviepog @ax-y10 @themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan @smolsleepykitten @funnyreally2009 @crows-death @thewheelersgaygaragelights @dykepunz @aresriiots @0miamor0 @cathers-world @defonotval @chipch0p @mazzistar16 @unmellowyellowfellow @justalittlebitofchaos @thosecolorfulsheets @vopix @taylors-version-from-the-vault @aine-lasagna @merianakross @veeislost @urfav-sapphic-siren (pls let me know if you do/don't want to be tagged!)

warnings/cw: reader & Wilbur getting flustered, swearing, mentions of whimpering audios

proofread?: *aggressively shakes head*

genre: fluff

word count: 455

"Do we have to steal Wilbur's YLYL rules again, chat?" You said to your chat with a laugh. "It seems like Wilbur's the only one who can tame you feral fuckers." You were doing a YLYL stream & your fans thought it would be a funny idea to try & send whimpering audios through MediaShare. You were not amused. Just then, a different video had been sent in. You were very prepared to pause the video or have the mods remove it, but you then saw your roommate Wilbur in the video.

"What's this?" You asked with a raised brow. You read the caption of the video, which read, "Wilbur was talking about Y/N during one of his concerts!!!!" You felt your face get hot.

In the video, Wilbur had just finished a song & he said to the crowd, "Guys, I forgot to mention, but shoutout to my roommate Y/N, because they stuck around even though I forget to pay rent half of the time & I bother her with my dumbass rambling! So, yeah, respect for my pretty hot roommate!" He said it so easily as if it were nothing. As if he didn't just call you hot.

"...interesting," you mumbled. The chat was blowing up with 'lol' messages & comments about how red your cheeks were. You didn't really care because you heard a knock at your bedroom door. You were home alone.

"Uh...come in?" you said to the knocking at the door. Wilbur then opened the door. "Wilbur?! You're back from tour?"

"Yeah," he smiled. He became Beardbur again during the tour & he looked very tired. "Sorry, I didn't tell you. I wanted to surprise you."

"Nah, it's fine," you said. "I was too busy to pick you up anyway."

"Wow," Wilbur said sarcastically, placing a hand over his heart & scoffing. "I can't believe that you would prioritize your streams over me!"

"Oh, piss off," you laughed.

"What're you doing?" Wilbur asked, looking at the webcam. He looked at the video & raised a brow.

"We're doing a YLYL stream," you said. "& my chat sent a video of you talking about me during a concert."

His usually pale face went ten shades pinker. "Th-that must've been edited or something-"

"Wilbur, it's fine, I know you're madly in love with me," you said jokingly. He laughed awkwardly.

"Oh well, I'll leave you to your weird chat," Wilbur said as he quickly got up & left the room. You waved goodbye & saw that someone had subscribed & left a message along with the sub.

"WILBUR LIKES YOU! HE SAID SO DURING THE SHOW! I JUST DIDN'T SHOW YOU THAT PART!" The message said.

"...what?" You said softly.

#wilbur soot #fanfic #lovejoy wilbur #wilbursoot #creative writing #wilbur x reader #dsmp wilbur #wilbur #wilbur mcyt #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #qsmp wilbur

[marcyyss]

' Loving at the distance '

Vance hopper x reader

( Reader and Vance are 15 )

Summary: You love Vance Hopper, one day he appears with a girl so you decided to make him jealous, even if he doesn't know about your existence!

-

This one is short, and prob the next one is the last part!! Pls give ideas for the next part so it wont be so short :(

After what happened, you called Bruce to search for comfort and platonic love..

Which you didn't get, he laughed at you

— " YOU CAN'T BE *THAT* BAD "

— " yes i am! I ruined everything "

— " How the FUCK you can say that to your YEARS crush, are you stupid? "

He said as he laughed at you, at least he was a good friend and told you that he is going to your house with ice cream

- 15 minutes lateer -

— " Ok but seriously, how can people ALWAYS have ice cream in their house? Like im not broke but i dont have THAT much money to buy ice cream everyday "

Bruce was talking about life, like he always do and you were crying in the sofa, like you always do

— " oh my god y/n, stop crying for that idiot, plus he already has a girlfriend "

— " But I can be his girlfriend! "

— " Keep dreaming y/n i dont think thats going to happen anytime soon "

— " Weren't you here to comfort me?! "

— " Nah, im here to eat ice cream, watch tv and make fun of you, like, my 3 favorites things in the world together "

You sobbed again, and he rolled his eyes and hugged you

— " Ugh Fine... Dont be sad y/n, there are a lot of people out there plus he isn't that pretty you know? He should brush his hair "

— " If i was his girlfriend i could brush it.. "

— " Okay, now you are just being pathetic, stop crying for him! You stalk him all summer and he knows it, and doesnt say anything to you, he doesn't care about you "

— " You're rigth, i should stop looking after him "

You sigh, and your hopes of being with Vance leaves your body..

BUT

Your hopes of being with someone new makes you feel good, you were pretty enough, some boys at school already asked you out so you guess you are really pretty

— " You're rigth Bruce! I deserve more then him! "

— " Exactly! I love when you listen to me and not your dumbass heart "

— " Im pretty rigth? Like, i could have a pretty boyfriend, and then Vance will look what he missed "

— " Yeah, um, i wouldn't say that you are prettier then ME but yeah, you are.. something "

You runned to the bathroom and started brushing your hair and putting makeup on your face

— " Hey Bruce, do you know anyone that has a crush on me? "

— " Uuuh, yeah? A 12 year old.. "

— " Come on, help me on this one, you said i should stop crushing on Vance so im trying and you are no help "

— " Ok.., um, yeah Mike has a crush on you, he told me that he wanted to asked you out someday "

— " Uuh.. He's not really my type but i guess it can work "

— " By the way, why are you putting makeup? Its like 1 am "

— " .. Fuck you're rigth. "

When school begin, you and and Mike were taking, he seem nerveous to talk to you but you were trying to find anything atractive in him, so you can like him back

— " So Mike.. Do you want to go to the park someday? Like.. In a date? "

— " A d-date? Suresuresuresure i'll go with you anywhere if you want "

"Weirdo" you thought, you were kinda disgusted by him, but you tried to look kind and pretty, but in the inside you thought if there was ANYONE ELSE who liked you and was atractive, it seems like you could only think on Vance and how handsome he was

The bell ringed, so your nigthmare of talking to Mike the weirdo was over, as you were walking to your class, mr. Vance hopper grabbed you by the arm

— " Dont think you would get away with this bullshit, really, whats on your fucking mind you weirdo? You dont have a brain? "

— " Hey let me go asshole, i need to go to class "

— " Yeah no shit, you wont go anywhere with that idiot, you will go out with me "

— " YOU? Yeah, no thanks but im really over you so your chance are none "

— " Im not asking, im telling you that you will, see you in grab and go at the same hour as always "

He left after saying that "asshole" you thought, as you were going to that fucking date with him..

Okay maybe you will, you are not THAT over him.. But of course Bruce will be there because maybe Vance wants to beat the hell out of you, and someone has to be there to recognize your body

Thats the only reason

Rigth?

Pls give ideas for the next part so it wont be so short 😭😭

#vance hopper x reader #vance hopper #the blackphone #the black phone x reader #tbp #tbp era #robin arellano x reader #robin arellano #finney blake x reader #finney blake #bruce yamada x reader #bruce yamada #fluff #headcanons #fanfic

[saikiscleansink]

Okay so i love sagau fics n have always had some of my own headcanons so i wanna share but idk if i would ever be able to write it bc i suck n have no idea where n how to start. Will come back and edit things every once in a while. More like my own notes for sagau fics. This is all my own opinion!!Pls dont come after me for this.

Sagau basic headcanons:

Blood red slowly turns gold (like really really slowly) glitter? Looks normal but slightly different? = can justify acolytes attempt to kill cos seems fake?

Lore: why kill someone for looking like their creator? Impossible for anyone to mimic creator’s look due to creator being god. Only if have gold blood then is creator. ie blames abyssal magic for creator looking person but no gold blood (refer to above point for lack of gold blood)

Can hear through screen? If game is on then they can hear you clearly. Places they can see you?: luhua pool, mona’s thing, holy places (church of favonius, narukami shrine, asase shrine etc) (my fave place ok its so pretty) If game is off then its muffled? Maybe blurry image?

Acolytes feelings warmth around the creator? Yes but also no? Godly aura wont load in so fast. Maybe can feel a little bit similar to when around the traveller.

Godliness doesnt really load in so fast. Reader’s body has to undergo cjanges to adapt to being in a place filled with magic unlike homeland?

Imposter au headcanons:

If creator dies and is sent back to homeworld. Only they can see their blood is gold? Go doctor or smt and they only see normal red blood? Scars also only reader can see.

Abyss can tell imposter is actually creator due to ancient connection with creator from Khaenri’ah / curse???

Kids cant tell but dont want to hunt? Cautiously looks after reader bc of morals? Too young to be clouded by their obsession with creator.

Khaenri’ans in general ie kaeya, albedo, dainsleif can tell bc abyss n curse?

Albedo n kaeya have me a little on edge tho. Cause they were raised in a human land? Maybe albedo would be better at sensing their grace? Albedo isnt exactly as human as kaeya and doesnt get influenced by others as easily as a normal human? But kaeya is khaenrhi’an so he can just tell?

Razor probably doesnt really understand all that much about their grace? He understands that theres an imposter and imposter=bad but he finds reader and only understands that reader feels warm and safe. Even if reader is an imposter, razor is safe and comfortable. Reader smells like home.

Heizouuuuu!!!! Hes literally the best detective. While the dumbass “acolytes” r so focused on hunting reader, he just notices small details about reader. He notices that the blood you leave behind has a faint golden shimmer that gets more and more gold as time passes (?). He notices the way that not only the “bad” creatures of teyvat flock toward you but also the innocent animals (squirrels boars even pigeons). While the rest of teyvat is saying that reader is the imposter because of the way hilichurls and slimes crowd around reader, heizou notices the way timmy’s pigeons dont fly away until someone else comes by. He notices how the birds seem to guide reader in their escapes. He sees the squirrels giving reader wolfberries (to help heal wounds) and mints and sweet flowers and berries. He can put 2 n 2 together to realise that an imposter wouldnt be able to earn the favour of innocent animals the way his grace can.

TRAVELLER JUST KNOWS!!! They spend the most time around you!!! Even if they are not in the party i hc that they are still there. They are you in a sense. 11/10 most loyal and huggable acolyte

Dancer!reader:

headcanons: graceful. Flexible. can treat minor injuries (dance= injuries) sprained ankle, muscle cramp. Used to injuries ie hit in the head. Big stamina. Can work through stitches (exercise stitches)

imposter au: 9/10 avoiding and protecting? Very graceful. Can fix slight injuries due to past dance injuries i.e. sprainend ankle muscle cramp? Taekwondo dance= better hand-to-hand combat. Better at hiding due to flexibility?

darling au: teaching teyvat dances and music from homeland. Obv vv graceful & elegant. Scares acolytes due to dangerous dance moves / literally folding in half. Dancer!reader is very flexible. No safety in mind, only cool dance move.

Senku!reader:

headcanons: ALBEDO/ RUBEDO. Teyvat equivalent of homeland materials/scientific reactions? Electricity?? ALICE!!! she would work w albedo n reader (like the dodocommunication device). Reader probably can figure out a portal to homeland but doesnt want to go back because SO MANY NEW THINGS TO EXPLORE AND LEARN!!

imposter au: surviving and thrIVING. Doesnt care about being hunted (but also doesnt really want to die) albedo finds reader n is ?cautious? but reader shows albedo science from homeworld. Albedo protect? Albedo n reader learns. After finding out that reader is indeed the creator, everyoen tries to apologise but albedo probably says that reader has gone back to their world because they dont want to keep being hunted (reader can probably “off themself” due to stress from being hunted) but reader is actually still in teyvat vibing n trying to research? Albedo keeps portal a secret?

darling au: acolytes LOVE to help reader find stuff to mess around with. Probably turns albedo’s lab into kindom of science 2.0. Instead of food n hymns people gift stuff like rocks and crystals and weird stuff to reader bc everyone knows n accepts that to be reader’s thing. IMPROVE DODOCOMMUNICATION DEVICE. People cant reallt go see reader much bc dragonspine is hecking dangerous so ppl r sad. But even better for reader bc can focus on research?

#sagau headcanons #sagau #genshin sagau

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

yo..if you're the professor....can i be your struggling student 🤨🤨 can we schedule an after class tutoring session....🤨🤨

I HOPE I'M DOING AN ALRIGHT JOB AT MAKING YOU FEEL BETTER??? and thank YOU for talking to me ilysm

I SLEPT ALRIGHT BUT I WOKE UP BECAUSE MY DUMBASS CAT DECIDED THAT MY CHEST WAS A GREAT PLACE TO MAKE BISCUITS ON (???)

okay woozi liking ari, bruno, and justin is VERY k-idol of him... but nasty is a diff level. bro is actually secretly v horny and you cant convince me otherwise.... you're doing detective level work brie thank you for bringing me this info 😂 truly an imaginer...

NOOO A FOREST VENUE ISN'T LAME WTF THAT'S SO MAGICAL UR RIGHT!!!! okay but wouldn't a wedding in the snow be SO cold LMAOOOO the bridesmaids would need parkas or something smh

I'M GLAD I INTRODUCED YOU TO A MEME THAT MADE YOU LAUGH PLS LAUGH MORE, YOU DESERVE IT

and I'VE HEARD OF GG I'VE JUST NEVER READ IT... from where i am it's pretty popular...

OH MY GOD ZACHARY GOODE SOUNDS SO COOL AND PERFECT WTF....WHAT DOES HE LOOK LIKE?? LIKE HOW DID THE AUTHORS DESCRIBE HIM

why does netflix always take the best shows off bro....i haven't finished bloodhounds yet and istg if they take it off before i finish i'm actually going to riot... BUT THANK YOU!! I WILL WATCH DOCTOR WHO AND SUPERNATURAL WHEN I GET MY SCHOOLWORK DONE LMAOOOO

wait...will supernatural ever do a con wherever you are?? like if it's a show based in the US then surely they would do something there.. (im assuming ur from the US but if you're not then sorry..)

THANK YOU FOR REINFORCING MY IDEA HJGHWJKGHK I WAS SO NERVOUS SENDING THAT ASK I MIGHT AS WELL HAVE BEEN SHAKINH😭😭

no but he just responded....HE IS ANNOYING THANK YOU. WHY CAN'T I APPRECIATE MY GUY FRIEND IN PEACE. like when he responds he always gives me like a slightly flirty/playful answer but it's either REALLY later (like 6+ hours) or like right away. no inbetween. the most he's waited before texting me is 1 day, but if we count the days where he left me on read, then like 3. like wtf. AND THANK YOU FOR LISTENING LGOIWJGWOIGJ I WILL DEFINITELY UPDATE YOU IF ANYTHING HAPPENS <33 im scared that people get annoyed when i talk about it SO PLS TELL ME IF IT'S TOO MUCH

also that's one hell of a story....how are you dealing with this so well??? i would've just quit and moved to another city LMAOOO

ben being a capricorn is so funny because every capricorn i've met has been like him...okay but wtf. he cheated on his (ex)gf with a FRESHLY 18 YR OLD??? see, usually you have to see how people you're friends with act around other people, but how tf is he gonna act all dandy with you (and other friends) but then do that to his gf??? he's fishy man...be careful

are blake and nam an item or are they just friends?? and how weird is WEIRD for a group of friends...as in like- you guys are all an odd pairing or are you guys just silly billys 😋😋

and wtf?? leaving emilee after she planned the hangout?? that is really shitty..

i'm sorry that you're feeling depressed man :(( i can't do much more than just be rlly supportive but just know that heart palpitations anon believes in you!! you're not annoying for being excited (which is completely human), so don't forget that!!!

i'm responding as i read rn but like....rachel and sophia do seem like....a little bit of a problem... SORRY IF THIS IS COMPLETELY UNSOLICITED AND OUT OF LEFT FIELD BUT LIKE....THEY'RE DOING ALL THAT FOR WHAT. sounds like a power trip to ME

maybe people aren't mad at you??? no offense girlie, but it sounds like they all have their own problems that they're dealing with by taking their frustrations out on you and the people around you..and can you leave your psychiatrist?? i mean if it's not working for you, surely there can be ways around it right? my friend has SUPER bad anxiety, and they got rebellious and stopped taking their high dosage meds and they literally said that was the first time in ~4 years that they truly felt alive, so maybe it'll help you??

you are NOT a narcissist girlie...this is exactly the type of stuff you would discuss with a therapist, and since you can't find one, you talk to your friends abt it!! it's totally normal, especially when you're in THIS many stressful situations!! you're SO normal and honestly, if i were you, i'd cry a lot too, so you're actually doing great brie. like genuinely, you're so strong

hey,, if you're gonna reject someone, make sure you guys aren't ever alone together in case they get violent :( stay safe!!

IT'S NOT FAIR THAT THEY'RE MAD AT YOU??? if they get jealous or weirded out because you're having a good time with a 'weird' group of friends, then it's not your problem atp...but if all of them are kiiiinda shitty people, then i could see why they think its weird. if they're nice people, then it's rachel and sophia's problem!!

I'M ALWAYS OPEN TO HEARING U TALK ABOUT ANYTHING STRESSFUL!!! pls go ahead and talk about yourself because it's obvious that no one else wants to listen to you :(

you didn't go overboard!! let it all out girlie i love people that explain everything because i am NOSY

remember, if you talk to someone who likes to get tired of people, don't chase them ;( i know it hurts a lot, especially if you literally love them, but if they truly valued you, they wouldn't just...up and leave, ykwim? its like manifesting stuff ig? if it's not meant for you, then it's not. if it is, then it is!! you gotta win the idgaf war brie 😤😤

-lots of support from 🫨 anon <3

Of course omg Office Hours once a week at 2:00am :)

YOU ARE ALWAYS THANK YOU ILYSM2

NOT TO BE ON YOUR CATS SIDE BUT I WOULD BE SO TICKLED IF MY CAT WOKE ME UP LIKE THAT THATS SO CUTE

OKAY I'M SO GLAD YOU GET IT PEOPLE LOOK AT ME LIKE IM DUMB WHEN I AM TRYING TO EXPLAIN THIS SHIT TO THEM LIKE I ANALYZE HIS PLAYLISTS I'M OBSESSED. THANK YOU FOR VALIDATING AND UNDERSTANDING MY OBSESSION

OKAY IT WOULD BE COLD BUT ALSO MAGICAL HAHA YOU ARE RIGHT THOUGH HAHA I HADN'T ACTUALLY THOUGHT ABOUT THAT

YOU DESERVE IT I HOPE I MAKE YOU LAUGH TOO YOUVE HEARD OF IT???? ITS POPULAR WHERE YOU COME FROM THAT'S CRAZY WHAT THE FUCK UHM DARK BROWN HAIR AND GREEN EYES IF I REMEMBER ACCURATELY!!

NO LITERALLY bout to be really mad at netflix I think they just removed my favorite cdrama too

SUPERNATURAL USED TO DO CONS IN THE US YEAH BUT SINCE IT ENDED THEY HAVEN'T BEEN DOING THEM AS MUCH and I was in highschool at the crux of them doing cons and so I never got to go cause who was gonna take me you know.

IM SORRY YOU WERE NERVOUS HAHA DONT BE NERVOUS SENDING ASKS

BOOOOOO YOU SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO APPRECIATE YOUR GUY FRIEND AND ALSO WHAT THE FUCK he should respond more often... THREE DAYS ON READ IS TOO MUCH. I WILL TELL YOU IF I GET ANNOYED BUT ALSO I WONT GET ANNOYED

please don't say that i want to quit and move to another city SO BADLY it's my first INSTINCT IM SO SERIOUS I DONT WANT TO DEAL WITH ANY OF THIS

ALSO OH MY GOD I FORGOT I TOLD YOU EVERY SINGLE DETAIL

HE IS FISHY THOUGH I AGREE.... DONT WORRY THOUGH I am always cautious with him

THEYRE JUST FRIENDS HAHA AND THEYRE BOTH RLLY STRAIGHT AND BLAKE IS IN A LONG-TERM RELATIONSHIP WITH SOMEONE HOW

and we are all an odd pairing! like no one at work would be like yeah those people should and do hang out cause why would we

RIGHT IT WAS SO SHITTY

thank youuuu

I THINK IM THE PROBLEM they are very intune with their emotions and healthy and adult and I'm still silly brie who cries over fanfictions, makes friends with toxic people, and makes mean jokes

I WOULD LEAVE HIM BUT I LIKE HIM EVEN THOUGH I DON'T LIKE HIM I actually go crazy without my medicine. the last time I wasn't on meds for my mania I didn't sleep for like three days straight, I ALSO can't sleep without my sleep meds, and I went without my anxiety meds for two weeks and was basically unable to do anything it was BAD BUT ONCE I GET OUT OF SCHOOL AND MOVE ILL BE SO MUCH LESS STRESSED SO

i am a litttllleee bit of a narcissist BUT THANK YOU

and i didn't reject him. I still need to. I am leading him on AHHHH

THANK YOU FOR READING ALL OF THAT CAUSE OH MY GOD WHY DID I GENUINELY DROP EVERY DETAIL (I was not on my anxiety meds) you're rightttt though you're righttttt I WILL DO MY BEST TO WIN THE IDGAF WAR THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT

#YOURE SO NICE OH MY GOD THANK YOU HAHA #IM SORRY I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG #I MISSED YOU TF

[theold-ultraviolence]

hey bestie,

I hope this message will find you alright! and again, pls don't worry for your reply!

OH OH, I am not sending this on anon btw to send you the photos of the mental asylum since you said that you were curious, but yeah this place was definitely something else!

(I don't have too many photos because my phone is too full BUT.. I hope it gives you an idea of the place).

I totally gotcha: I literally have just my thesis and internship to do and I feel like I have 0 energy for it. I just want to plop down somewhere and stay there and have life pass through me these days, ugh.

also I am so glad that you are getting to see him! I truly was hoping that you could because it'd have been a shame and pls don't apologize, I wholly gotcha because I am the same!

(I am also waiting for some concert news so I gotcha the trepidation and excitement!).

(and I am glad you enjoyed the graph thingy - not me going like 'which graph thingy' because I am a dumbass. I haven't been able to listen onto more because I set up to do my thesis and the sole songs that I could listen to where 'we didn't start the fire' by fall out boy and 'vampire' by olivia rodrigo).

but tomorrow I have to take the train so catch me listening to it while on the train!

and yeah I gotcha! I live with other people at uni and we share spaces and I ain't going to lie, I feel like my patience has greatly improved because they are a SERIOUS mess. like one roommate never EVER put back the toilet paper once it is finished, while another will put alarms at 6 a.m. and then not wake up because she didn't need it (but guess who got woken up?).

in general the more I go on, the more I think that people shouldn't be allowed to co-habit together because the murder rate would go crazily. also, I gotcha about the bathroom, I truly TRULY enjoy keeping it clean, cleaning the sink and bidet and general stuff when I use it (like superficially not deep cleaning) but the amount of time I found rest of toothpaste or hair... I ... am also chomping the drywall.

also I wanted to first of all say that I am sorry to hear that about your grandma but it's a situation I also know all too well.

my grandmother had a brother who died and left his wife a widow all too early. my grandma had taken onto taking care of this woman alongside my grandpa (although my grandma has different health problems and hence she'd often rely onto my mother, who is already stressed). it was also a monetary help as they left to her a bit of money that my grandmother's mother had left to her daughters (although after she died we discovered that she had more than enough money to take care of herself).

this woman started to showcase different health problems (comprehended an inability to take care of herself on her own, because she forgot stuff and couldn't walk around) in the last three years and, although she had older nephews (that DO live in another city but like that I think are retired and not working), they never came to help her or take care of her, instead delegating her problematics to my grandmother (and in turn to my grandpa and mother, which created a stressful situation).

the funniest part is that when this woman died, the nephews came and took everything and basically although my mother and grandmother helped her greatly (as she also didn't want a private caretaker), she didn't think of writing a will and neither leaving us anything of sentimental value.

(like not to seem like we wanted to take advantage of that woman, but she'd often tell my mother that 'she'd give back to her for her help'. instead we just were her own free caretakers and I ain't going to lie but such a thing make my grandma suffer a whole lot and my mom is worried that she might fall ill again).

so yeah, I gotcha and although I don't think it's a gender only problematic in my case, I think that people truly are often blinded by their ego. I do hope still, that your grandpa might get a bit of rest.

(also this is more related to 'lady chatterley's lover' but there's this - scary - statistics about the fact that men will always leave their wives/partners if they are found ill, INSTEAD if they are the ones falling ill, women won't, which honestly makes me reflect a whole lot about ever getting married or in a serious relationship).

oh no no, I gotcha. like I don't think that it's safe to be a woman ANYWHERE, BUT... I do feel like there are different levels of safety and comfortability based on different places.

(like the city where I am going to intern, a girl who is already there told me that it is extremely safe at night and the most she saw was a drunk altercation).

also, I gotcha. in all truth, I just feel like I am missing out on so many experiences also because I don't have my own gain and I do hope to be able to soon make some money of my own, as that might help me further feel independent and also enjoy better life. but yeah, I gotcha!

but if it helps, I do believe that although the whole teen-twenties experience is sold as universal, it isn't many that are able to enjoy it fully and many cases it has some behind the scenes mechanism that are very limited. so, I do recognize the feeling but believe me: we have so much time and ability to do what we think we have lost, I truly believe it!

oh no bestie, I gotcha! like in all truth I have become chiller about the food, it's just that indeed when things aren't as they should be I tend to ugh... go a bit crazy.

and I gotcha, my mom is the EXACT same, also because I don't know about your own but sometimes I'd be ranting to my mom for the sake of ranting and she comes in giving me a whole lecture on life or saying I complain too much, I just... ugh... need to vent, I ain't looking for a life lesson.

like on thursday we had the bathroom almost flooded because the dumbasses workers forgot to link a tube and they opened the water to check in so the tube let in water (thankfully I was in the bathroom and I was quick to ask for help so nothing happened). but I was PANICKING hard and calling my mother and later she told me that I should handle between panic and these situation and I was like 'MA'AM IT AIN'T A NORMAL SITUATION'.

like, I get that it wasn't as bad and I should have been rational but I was straight up panicking.

so yeah, I wholly gotcha and the whole visa thing would have been truly annoying if it didn't happen. like maybe it isn't the end of the world but losing money and opportunities ain't ever a good thing and neither a comfort, so I gotcha why you were nervous about it.

oh yeah, in all truth I can see why that might be annoying in a book. I ain't going to lie I read this 500 pages book a few weeks ago and I was skipping through some povs because they were just plain boring (like there was this old couple always having sex and I was like 'thank you but thank you not. you could be my parents').

so, I totally gotcha your need to back off for a bit and I am glad you are enjoying your current reading.

(also I gotcha about finishing books. like I used to finish 6-7 a month and now I am lucky if I get to one in a month, ugh. my parents were always like 'yeah when you'll reach our age, you won't be able to read all these books' and now I am already losing ground)

I am going to note down your suggestions and I have always been curious about 'misery' because I really enjoy the concept and 'the mist' I do know about it but always superficially so I shall definitely add them to my to-buy list (although I bought some books like two days ago, because they always get me with the promotions: buy three and you get a cute tote bag ugh).

ok bestie, I haven't read too much (I am 150 pages in, but mostly because when I have to work with my computer, I always end up reading a lot less, so I am hopeful to have a bit of off time this weekend), but I ain't going to lie when clifford proposed the child thingy I was like 'did I read this correctly?'

(also I hate clifford. I genuinely thought I'd find pity for him but this man... ugh. probably one of the few fictional characters I can't stand).

AND YEAH I GOTCHA! in all truth I have read just a few sex descriptions and I am surprised how in line with female views they are.

(although I don't know if you know but his own lover inspired such a book so I guess he had a feminine experience to base himself on).

I have seen a few clips from the adaptation on tik toks, so I can't judge but I do know of another adaptation (with richard madden) made in 2015 that I have heard is far more faithful to the book.

AND OH GODS, I HADN'T REALIZED! but yeah, eddie is improvised waterslides and cold beers against your back when you least expect it while aemond is sticking your head in his sweater when you are cold and making him hot cocoa. oh bestie if we ain't literature geniuses!

listen... jack and his accent are growing onto me and I might try to catch up onto sas once I come back home because here at uni I have more a scattered mind and I tend to rewatch my favorites series but at home... I just might... for.. for the fact that I am interested in that historical period... I mean... of course... *john mulaney's voice* no other reason.

listen... we should move to derby. I am just saying, but at this point I just think that it'd be the best option possible for us.

bestie, in all truth, I don't think that we all know all the ways to say something in italian (even more because they tend to create new ones) and I always discover something new (like 'cicca' has a whole lot of meanings, like 'chewing gum' but also 'the finished cigarette' and in some southern parts 'joint').

so believe me, it's totally alright to feel confused and a whole lot of time also us italian are but with time and experience I am sure the you'll be able to understand it all!

(also will patiently wait for the explanation for 'lupo'/'lobo').

and I gotcha, in all truth yesterday my brain was just turned to smush as I was talking with friends, trying to write more and using tumblr. so truly one thing at the time and certainly those courses aren't running away. if it helps you, it'll be money wasted even if you try to do them with an unfocused brain and you can't learn properly so it's better if you do them in your best headset although it might take some time.

and pls, YOU are the one keeping me a whole lot of company so thank you for sticking around and still replying to my silly messages on here!

thank you, I am going back home so I hope to relax and I hope that you'll be able to enjoy your time and have fun, as well!

sending HUGE hugs back and have a lovely rest of the week

-🌗

ehehe mysterious bestie, hello!!!

Ohhh no way that place DOES look magical like I wouldn't have guessed what it actually was from a first glance!? Deadass looks like some estate in some period film where a lot of romantic drama ensues lkjlkfjgflkdjh. I can see how that got your imagination running! thank you sm for sharing!!

OOH CONCERT NEWS! what concert? (if it's okay to share of course) whoever it is, I hope they're great news as well! and also aaaaah I haven't listened to We Didn't Start The Fire by Fall Out Boy and I need to do that sooner rather than later! I've been too in my feelings listening to Oingo Boingo and Danny Elfman and that's all that I've been playing 24/7 eheheh. A7X will make its comeback in my ears when that concert nears.

Also re: sharing spaces, I KNOW! I'm having war flashbacks from when I lived in Toronto and I was all cooped up at this lady's house with her two sons and her nephew and oh boy. OH BOY. OH boy oh boy oh boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. On my last days there, I took a trip to Niagra Falls and I was out all day. I hadn't really eaten anything during the whole day so when I got back I was STARVING. But when I got back I was SO MAD because I couldn't make myself anything because I kid you not, all the cutlery was dirty, not a single plate or glass was available to use. And they had left their mess out in the kitchen like crazy people and I was so disgusted by it that I was like, thnx my appetite is gone lmao.

I'm so sorry to hear about that situation, bestie, it sounds absolutely awful and the saddest part is just how common it is for this sort of thing to happen? the part about the nephews barging in to claim they're due when they never lifted a finger to help is SO REAL and so maddening!! No, I absolutely understand the toll it took on your mom and grandmother. I also worry about my mom constantly because, since she's literally the only one helping and giving my grandpa money, besides working, I know she's so stressed and I fear every day that she'll be ill next. And I just KNOW what you say about the nephews is what will happen in my case with my uncles because it is 100% a similar situation with them. It sucks and it's really harsh to hear that something you're going through with shitty family members when there's a sickness to deal with is so common. It seriously shouldn't be this way and the way that some people can't look beyond their own noses and past their egos is just, ughhhhhh, truly sickening.

And also I'm so happy that you're going to a place that's gonna be safe in that regard!! I know that just for that fact alone you are going to enjoy it SO MUCH, and I'm giddy just thinking about you going to your internship! I know you've mentioned that it's been stressful to prepare and rearrange stuff for it, but it's gonna be so worth it. And I totally get you about it having to do with money too. In all truth, I think this age is quite difficult because there's so much out of our control and that it's hard to get passed that. Like what we mentioned about safety, and also our personal finances, and being dependent on support of our parents for a lot of things still. Oh gosh, for me one thing I also feel kinda holds me back is the whole 'virgin who can't drive' thing slglgkjdhkj because so much of my plans are also dependant of finding someone that can drive me places, ughh. But yeah! I'm hopeful that as we grow out of this age, things will start feeling a little bit better!

AND NO I WHOLLY GET YOU MY MOM IS THE EXACT SAME! Again, with the visa thing, I was in TEARS bestie, TEARS because I was so frustrated about it, and she was like, 'listen i know danny elfman is your dream, but you gotta put your feet on the ground and deal with what's happening in the now' AND I WAS LIKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOW DARE!!! CAN'T YOU SEE LIFE IS BUT A DREAM? (see what I did there?) heheh. I AM trying as you are to get better at dealing with situations. Like if I'm ever in distress of that kind I'm trying to school my thoughts into going, 'this can be fixed. all I need to do is take it step by step' but it's so easy to PANIC, and soooo so difficult to just, chill out.

Re: books. Oh gosh I feel like you're FAST though, like you're already in the Venice chapters of Lady Chatterley!?????? I feel like you started that book so recently!!! I wish I was that quick bestie because I tell you I'm still dragging with Salem's Lot. I will definitely check out the adaptation that you mention because by now I feel like I need to watch them all (although Jack O'Connell raised the bar so high for me with his take on Mellors ngl). I would pay millions to see Ewan play Mellors s;dlfkjglkjg. Also I know we literally just said about the book club with Jane Austen, but do let me know if, and when you end up diving into Stephen King, because I enjoy listening to your thoughts immensely!!

AND PLEASE I AM DYING. I tagged you in a fanart that I think encapsulates Eddie being a summer kind of love SO WELL UGH. He just iiiiiis. And it occurs to me that nearly all the fanart I've seen of Aemond he's in sweaters and jackets and stuff so, guhhhh there's something about these two that are the perfect combo for the seasons of the year. I'm weak, I'm melting just thinking about it. And the more I think about it, the more I'm LEGIT MAD they aren't real. Which is why I fully endorse us moving to Derby or just england in general to scout for our Joe Quins and Ewan Mitchells s;kjfglkgj.

I'm dying with 'Cicca' meaning all of those things!?? I'm imagining having a conversation with someone and telling them you're chewing gum and them interpreting a whole other thing lol. In here, a lot of words have like, double-meaning but in a dirty way lol. 'Chaqueta' means 'Jacket' but also literally 'jerk off'. Or like, 'huevos' (eggs) is also a colloquial way to refer to man's balls kdjslkjg. There's is literally a movie here THAT'S FOR KIDS, that's called 'Una Pelicula de Huevos' (An egg movie) but the double entendre of 'De Huevos' is like, 'A movie with BALLS' and the whole movie is comprised of these dirty double-entendre jokes that you totally miss as a kid but as an adult you're like, 'how is this for kids!!!!!?'

This totally doesn't have anything to do with anything other than languages being silly lol. But seriously, thank you! you're so right about the money being wasted. It kinda stings but you're absolutely right. I'm hoping next week I have the chance to do it though, because the trip I was going to got cancelled :( and also thank you for your never-ending patience with sharing stuff about Italy/the Italian language with me, bestie!!

I hope you had an amazing weekend filled with rest and indulgence, and I wish you a good start of the week! sending you the biggest, tightest hug! x

#🌗

[maiverie]

13 with hee 🙈

ANON THIS IS SO SHIT IM SO SORRY WFHEHWEHEW I DONT THINK IT REALLY EVEN PERTAINED TO THE PROMPT VERY WELL BUT WHATEVER ITS FINE ! THAKN U FOR PARTICIPATING BAE <333 ILY

PROMPT 13: "you have so many non-sexual turn ons" + LEE HEESEUNG

“idk. im just not really into the idea of dating rn. seems kinda… lame.” you mumble.

your friend heeseung snorts in amusement. the two of you are inside his dorm, playing mario kart on his shitty, tiny ass TV that he could barely afford. you’re both waiting for the rest of your friends to hurry up and show up so guys can catch the movie you’d all promised to watch together.

“yeah, i mean the selection pool is uh… interesting. to say the least.” heeseung mutters. he knows all the boys in ur comp sci classes are weirdos. you’ve ranted about this to him multiple times now; you’ve got story after story about weird ways you’ve been asked out. as it turns out, being only one of two girls in the entire comp sci class makes you a very hot commodity!

“i mean, after sunghoon, it’s just hard getting back into dating, yk?”

ah, sunghoon, your ex: super hot guy that studies economics. the break up was super mutual (he dumped u) and very amicable (u cried for a month straight while heeseung patted u on the back and tried to tell u funny stories from his childhood to make u laugh)

heeseung hums in agreement. “nah fuck that guy. your ex is a dumbass and you know it.”

LOL

ACTUALLY WAIT,, you know what?? it never occurred to you how great of a listener heeseung is — he’s always letting you rant about bad things that have happened in your day or what you had for breakfast and he’s always coming over and helping you revamp your dorm room. he goes grocery shopping with u and shouts bubble tea. he helps you pick which pictures are the cutest for ur instagram. he’s so sweet sobs WHY IS HE SINGLE?

“what about you? anyone in ur literature class?”

“i’m not really looking.”

“well… if you were looking, what’d you be looking for?”

“like,,,, what i want in someone?”

“yeah.”

“someone hot.”

oh yeah.. THATS why he’s single ffs

“no, heeseung, i meant like. wholesome things. like, what… what are your non sexual turn ons?”

heeseung does a double take. he glances quickly at you before throwing his gaze back onto the tv screen. he’s probably thinking wtf did she just say? did i hear that right?

“non-sexual turn ons? wtf is that”

“like… yk… what makes ur heart horny? what gives you a heart boner?”

“dude youre fucking scaring me”

“hEESEUNG ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESITON PLEASE”

“wtf ok fine.” he puts down the controller and pauses the game.

you finally turn toward each other.

“idk,” he shrugs after a while of thinking. “i guess… someone domestic. and before u get all weird on me, i meant like… someone that makes me feel like home; someone that can make even the smallest things fun. like grocery shopping. or… playing video games.”

you stare at each other

there’s silence

um

okay

ABORT ABORT

u may or may not have a heart boner rn 

[ ASK GAME ! pls im so bored ]

#ask #꒰ ask games ꒱ 𐂂 #dot point drabbles!

[merianmoriarty]

Server Movie Synopsis: Barbarian

*AN: Keep in mind that these synopses will contain spoilers and may not be complete, as I rarely see the entire movie while serving for it.  These synopses are just going to be fast impressions of an Alamo Drafthouse server.  Also, I meant to post this one a week ago and kept forgetting to...*

Homegirl (her name is Tess) came to Detroit at night with no raincoat or umbrella.  You couldn’t have clicked your weather app and found out how dumb an idea that was?  Dude already in the AirBnB looks pretty sketch.  Oh, at least he understands that he seems sketch.  Creeper’s name is Keith.

Woman: “Life as a woman is hard and scary and dangerous.” Man: “That hasn’t been my experience.”  But srsly, it’s Important To The Story that she tells him she has experience freaking out quietly.  Look at us bonding over wine!  Beddy-bye.  Mama kiss you goodnight (wat i did not sign up for turn down service).  Spoooooooky.

Job interview that brought her here in the first place goes great, good job, awesome.  Interviewer is like “so where u stayin girl?” and Tess is like “oh this shady brokedown neighborhood on the edge of town.” You staying in the nasty part of town, child.  Neighborhood by daylight!  Oh damn, interview lady wasn’t kidding, this place straight-up abandoned.  Everything about the house looks nice except the front door and front porch (both are grimy with worn paint while everything else looks fresh), dun-dun-duuuuuuun.

Scary hobo tells her to stay outside, no, no, come back outside right now lady, heyyyyyyy.  No cops coming, Tess--Detroit got hella crime and you in a shitty neighborhood.  No TP?  Maybe check the spooky basement.  Ta-daaaaa.  Door closed on its own and now it’s locked whaaaaaaat.  Is that a rope coming through a hole in the wall?  Yes, pull it, good job, idiot.  Secret creepy doorway revealed! +10 Gamer Points

Nope.

Smartest thing you’ve done all day--aaaaaand you’re just reflecting some light down the creepy-ass tunnel before you go in.  Creepy Keith to the rescue!  (How tho? I missed how he got into the house, but whatev...maybe the back door was open?)

Ope, his dumbass vanish.  Oh shit he crying for help, that’s a trap for sure, but let’s keep walking.  Why are you still going, U DON’T EVEN KNOW THIS GUY, YOU CAN GO AND BRING COPS OR FIREMEN OR SOMETHING.  Oh, there he is.  SCARY NAKED SCREAMY LADY!

New dude!  AJ Gilbride.  Everything we learn makes him more and more of a douche.  “Did you rape her?” “We fucked.  But she needed convincing.” Please die. Drunk dialing his victim, real charming.  “I’m not even mad at you about it.”  Wowwwwwwww, hurry up and go down into the basement, you skeevy prick.  Squatters in my basement how dare!  Hmmmm, how can I use this basement to fuck over prospective home buyers and get more money?

Oh flashback.  Ah, yes, this guy always plays creeps (geometry says his face is suited for it because his cheeks are gaunt and his brows are low on a forehead with a pronounced widow’s peak--The More You Know!).  Talks his way into a house, leaves bathroom window unlatched--actual B&E strategy.  What’s in the truuuuunk???  Into the basement.  Screaming girl but nobody gonna hear that.

AJ, meet Tess.  If you must freak out, pls do so quietly.  AJ does not freak out quietly.  AJ, meet Mama.  Baby bottle drinky drinky.  Ope, he too loud, time for one-on-one parenting.  Run, Tess, ruuuuuuuun.

Scary hobo knows what’s what.  Mama comes out at night, but the water tower has been his Safe Space for fifteen years.  No, Tess has to call the cops and go rescue this guy she just met!  LOL Tess looks like a druggie, ain’t nobody gonna believe her.  Cops won’t help?  Tess has Little Red Hen syndrome...  Yeah, totally got Mama!  Save AJ!  Mama is no longer there and now we have no getaway vehicle!  Run to the water tower!  Ah, we’re safe here, been safe here for fifteen--ope, nevermind.  (We Have Had 0 Days Since Our Last Wookiee-Style Beat-Down!)  WELL TESS IT’S YOU OR ME AND OBVIOUSLY IT CAN’T BE ME BECAUSE I’M THE BEST EVEN THOUGH I SHOT YOU IN A FIT OF PARANOIA SO I’M GONNA JUST THROW YOU OFF THE WATER TOWER AND HOPE MAMA DIVES AFTER HER BABY.

Oh look, Mama broke your fall.  You’re not dead, great.   I didn’t try to kill you, it was a premeditated accident.  MAMA WILL SAVE YOU FROM THE BAD MAN.

Bang.  *cue Be My Baby by The Ronettes* (yes really)

Featuring white boys doing the dumb, a black woman who should know better, the Night King himself, and a huge mess that will not need to be explained because someone will just write it off to drug violence because Detroit.  The Moral of Today’s Story Is:  men think they’re not being threatening but at the most primal level of perception they absolutely are and a woman who hasn’t been socialized to shut up and take it will react with lethal violence.  A very slow starter, feels much longer than it is, not a particularly satisfying ending (not in the “what the hell kind of ending was that?” sense but more of a “...*blink blink*...huh...” sense).

#server synopses #spoilers #Barbarian (2022)

[strawberrymilkuwo]

Possible sticker or charm designs? Lemme know if you guys think it would be worth making to sell. I just wanna know if it's a good idea or nah.

#Eren #eren yeager #eren jaeger #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot season 4 #genocidal bastard stickers lol #For real tho #Pls tell me if this seems like a dumbass idea

[greenteaanon]

GenZ Reader in

Genshin SAGAU

Warnings: Foul languages, Crack, So much...SOO much meme references

Since you guys asked for more...ask and you shall receive

I honestly forgot about this thank you to @annoying-gemini and also your doing great I'm so glad you asked this

Also part 1 cause my dumbass forgot to add the link

_______________________________________

Hey look it was interesting you never thought you would witness a public execution of a person THAT LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE YOU

It's all fine and dandy, The food was as delicious as it looks in game

Kaeya still being a little piss baby for getting called out on why he has no cavalry

Now your here drinking Coffee..iced..cause Duh

Anyways you sit there and think about how to break Klee out of Solitary confinement cause why to not

And then Venti chimed in "Your Grace?"

"Ye?" "We need to go to liyue for them to learn your identity"

Zhongli came out from behind Venti

Uhh...Ok ...Let's go Peepaw!

Just got up finished the coffee first cause duh...

And went straight to wangshu inn

And who is that you see....Its our favorite Emo adeptus yaksha.....ITS XIAO!

Ok..but tell me why the first thing that popped in your head was "C'mon fuck me emo boy come on fuck me emo boy"

You nasty

"Your Grace..." Ganyu came out to the balcony

Xiangling came out from behind Ganyu "Oh? Are they here! Welcome your Grace!" Xiangling bowed

Bro your heart boutta Burst Xiangling is So sweet

"Ah No need to Bow Please" you just grabbed Xianglings shoulders straightening her back.

They all have been talking a while..while you were sitting there

An idea popped into your head...you wanted to cook

Since y'all had the inn to yourself haha MATERIAL GORL 💅✨

you just got up and went down to the kitchen you didn't see the adepti and Xiangling looking at you even

You started gathering the ingredients

"Onions, Garlic, Celery, Balsamic Vinegar— that's a big word for Elmo."

You just giggled and just grabbed what you needed

You cooked up a simple soup and some bread to compliment the soup

"Your Grace! the food smells so good!" Xiangling

"Why don't everyone try it?" You grabbed some extra plates and out it on the table

Well everyone seems to enjoy eating except for Xiao and Ganyu

You looked them up and down with a bruh :/ face

You took a 2 peices of bread and pushed both of them to their mouth "EAT THE GOD DAMN BAGUETTE"

The others were confused..tbh same

Just eat it....pls..

They surprisingly did eat it

Anyways morning came and y'all headed to the harbour

The first person to greet you was AHHHHH NINGGUANG

'oh....bonk me I need to go to horny jail' you thought

"Hello your Grace" Ningguang bowed and kissed your hand

Ah.....haha....haha.....

Error:Your.Grace.EXE has stopped working

Honestly same...Ningguang my beloved

"Please make yourself at home" she said

Well your stuck here forever....so might as well

This is better than the real world

#sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact cult au #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader

[koushisatori]

if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #kyoutani x you #seijoh x reader #aoba josai x reader #mad dog x reader #eeeeh i hope I didn't forget anything #tw jealousy #cw jealousy #???? #y/n lowly humming the you kinda smell like a baka sound and he just </3 #deserved though

[shirebarbie]

[Yelena Belova x reader] Never Have I Ever

Author’s note: here I am again, not knowing what I’m doing. if anyone actually likes this, pls let me know :’)

Summary: you and Yelena get a little carried away while playing a drinking game in your bedroom. (warning: alcohol consumption)

___

It was Friday evening and you were finally just relaxing in your room after a long day of training in the Avengers compound. Sure, you loved working there and the whole saving-the-world thing was pretty cool, but sometimes you desperately craved a bit of peace and quiet, even boredom. While half the team was out and about, probably clubbing somewhere, you were lying in bed and pondering what you could do.

Baking took too much energy and time, and cleaning up afterwards was the worst. Off the top of your head, you couldn’t think of a movie or a TV show you wanted to watch. The city was way too crowded and bustling at the time to go for a walk, and in order to play video games you would have to move to the living room instead. Everything seemed too much work, so you just switched on the TV, for starters, and began channel surfing, hoping to maybe stumble upon something that caught your eye.

Some cutesy romantic comedy was playing on one of the channels, so you put down the remote and started half-watching it as you played around on your phone. When you looked up again, you saw the two main characters play-fighting, and eventually sharing what seemed to be their first kiss. Only slightly gulping, you immediately thought of your friend Yelena. Or maybe not just a friend, but it was too scary of a thought to actually confess. Sometimes it was hard to know where you stood with her in terms of feelings. You two had met through Natasha and, even though Yelena was neither living nor working in the Avengers’ headquarters, she occasionally dropped by, and the two of you quickly became close. Sometimes almost inseparable. Every now and then she also volunteered to be your sparring partner or train with you.

“Maybe I could give her a call and see if she feels like doing something fun,” you thought and reached for your phone again. After debating whether you should give her a call or simply send a text, you settled on texting because who would answer a random phone call on Friday night.

I’m bored and desperately wanting your company.

Nope, it sounded too thirsty, you almost facepalmed.

Wanna come over and do sth fun? I’m a bit lonely and running out of ideas for what to do

There it was, you thought, that sounded alright. It’s barely been a few minutes when you got a reply from the blonde assassin.

Be there in a few

Bringing booze 😊

That was very Yelena. You chuckled to yourself and started tidying up the room a bit and making yourself look at least semi-presentable. Soon enough there was a sharp knock on your bedroom door.

“How did you get past the main entrance security? I thought you’d call me when you got downstairs so I can clear the protocols and open the door for you,” you asked in disbelief as Yelena got in and plopped on your bed.

“I’m happy to see you too,” she retorted in her typical fashion. “You really think a little security is a problem for me to handle?” she asked you with a dry chuckle. “I thought you’d know me better by now.”

“Dumbass,” rolling your eyes affectionately you said, “but if you got me in trouble with the rest of the team and staff, I’m gonna kill you.”

Yelena batted her eyelashes innocently, “we both know I’m too cute for you to be able to do that.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Belova.”

“Aren’t you gonna ask which drink I brought for our little party of two?” the blonde raised a dark eyebrow at you with a mischievous smile.

“Why is something telling me that it’s vodka?” you sighed. Sometimes you believed you knew her better than she even thought you did.

“Maybe you do know me after all, (your_last_name),” Yelena muttered. “Anyway, we need shot glasses, stat.”

“Whatever you wish, Your Highness,” you mock bowed at her when you got up to go to the kitchen and search through the glassware. You managed to find two little glasses, but you were still hoping that you wouldn’t get too drunk – who knew what feelings and confessions could come out if you got a little liquid courage? It seemed to be only you and Yelena on that floor, and everything suddenly seemed possible. And scary.

“Here are your glasses, boss,” you strolled into the room where Yelena was still comfortable on the edge of your bed. When she smiled at you, it felt like your heart grew bigger in size all of a sudden. “So, you wanna just drink and do nothing else, or did you have another idea in mind?”

“Actually,” Yelena began, and you immediately knew you were in for a ride – she had plethora of crazy ideas, “maybe we could play a drinking game. Like they do in all those movies.”

“Who am I to take away a drinking game experience from you?” you joked, finding her childishness so endearing sometimes. It must have been hard having a childhood like she had.

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” Yelena exclaimed, twisting the cap on the bottle and pouring you two a shot each. “Can we do ‘never have I ever’? That seems easy enough.” You simply nodded and made yourself comfortable on the bed again, sitting cross-legged right across your friend, or crush, but still close enough.

“You have the honors of going first,” you gestured to her. “Let’s just not drink the whole shot when we answer, though. I don’t wanna die.”

“As if you could have that many fun experiences to drink after each question…” Yelena mused, but you knew she meant well. She just liked joking around with you.

“Okay,” she clapped excitedly, making your heart skip a beat, “I’ll start, then. Never have I ever done a hair dye prank on somebody.”

Both of you took a sip of your drink.

“Do I even wanna know?” you asked Yelena cautiously.

“I’ll just say that the red never washed out of Nat’s hair properly, so she just went with it.” Yelena giggled joyfully. “But how about you?”

“Imagine the Winter Soldier with green hair. My life almost flashed before my eyes when he realized what had happened, but I couldn’t back out of that bet with Sam.”

“Never have I ever,” you began, “laughed inappropriately in a very serious situation.” Immediately both of you took a sip again, breaking into laughter right after.

The game went on, all kinds of questions passing between you and Yelena and, over time, the more you both had to drink, the riskier questions you both asked.

“Never have I ever,” Yelena exclaimed dramatically, “had to hide more than two bodies in the same day.” She finished whatever she had left in her little glass as you sat with your mouth agape.

“What?” she argued, “it’s a part of the job.”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed. “It’s my turn again.” As you looked deeply into her mesmerizing eyes, you felt something wash over you, and you decided it was finally time to disclose some things. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss my sparring partner and friend.” The second that sentence was out of your mouth and hanging in the air between you and Yelena, you thought you’d pass out. Thankfully, you collected yourself enough to take the last sip out of the shot glass, but your heart broke a little when you noticed that Yelena wasn’t drinking. Ouch.

Whatever was written on your face, she caught on it quickly and shook her head as if to rearrange her own thoughts. “As much as I would love to take a sip for this particular question, I’m afraid we finished the whole bottle.”

Oh, okay, you thought. Maybe that wasn’t going to be such a disaster after all.

“Well, um… I-I’m glad we cleared that up then,” you stuttered, barely able to meet Yelena’s eyes for a split second.

“Think we should do something about it?” Yelena smirked as she slowly began leaning more towards you. Subconsciously you started doing the same thing. If she could be brave about it, so could you. Opting for a wordless nod of your head instead of a verbal answer, you finally closed the distance between yourself and the Russian. Her hands flew to your face almost instantly to cup your cheeks, and your arms snaked around her waist. It wasn’t a cute little innocent first kiss between two friends – it was fiery and passionate through and through. Grateful for the fact that you were technically the one who kissed her first, Yelena decided it would be her turn to initiate something, so she gently pushed you down on the bed and straddled your hips.

Your hands slid from her waist to her perfect thighs and squeezed them as she kissed you feverishly, but slowly, just taking it all in. When she pulled away, both of you were barely breathing, eyes locked with each other’s.

“As far as movie-like experiences go… this wasn’t bad at all,” she joked, now sitting up above you. You shoved her playfully and giggled a little bit, her bright smile matching your own mood.

“We should play games like this more often,” you concluded, gently pushing Yelena off of you so you could sit up again. Through a small fit of laughter, she agreed with you. “Now let’s go raid the kitchen for food and snacks. All that drinking just made me crave something unhealthy.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

#mcu imagine #yelena belova #black widow #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova headcanons #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #natasha romanoff #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons #MCU headcanons #black widow imagine #black widow headcanons

[astrohae]

A Dragon’s Greed

pls don’t yell at me about my unfinished series. im trying. take this instead.

dragon king!bakugou X courtesan!reader 

gnc reader as per the usual

Focus. You scold yourself. You're here to entertain, not to wordlessly flirt with the princess's fiance. But what can you say? You've always had a type, and barbarian warlords fell right into your favorite category. The fact that he seemed utterly entranced by you, well that wasn't your fault. Every time you turned your head over your shoulder, you caught his eyes over your half veil and he never looked away, not even for a moment.

The princess didn't seem happy about this, sat next to the king, and huffing when her attempts at catching his attention fell flat. Serves her right for always bullying you and being such a spoiled brat.

Though, to be honest you wouldn't wish marriage to Bakugou Katsuki, the King of Dragons, merciless warlord, upon anyone.

Sure he was attractive and rich, and powerful, but you'd heard horror stories of what he had done on the battlefield.

When Bakugou started looking to new lands to conquer, you country's king had offered up his daughter like a sacrificial lamb to the barbarian in order to forge a treaty and protect his people through political marriage. King Bakugou's sexual conquests were nearly as infamous as his military ones, but he had never married or officially named a consort. The princess would be the first.

The king had sent a huge wedding procession of gifts and treasures to the high court of the Badlands, and along with it the most talented entertainers and artisans they had to offer. As the most talented dancing courtesan in the capital you had no choice but to travel with the caravan, so here you were. Performing a sword dance for a bloodthirsty king who kept looking at you as if you were a meal. It was an ego boost for sure but you were also scared.

When your performance came to a close, you bowed and quickly escaped when the princess had successfully stolen Katsuki's attention. Your face was burning under your veil and you fanned yourself in the cool stone hallway to calm down. You were hoping that the king would forget about you after a few more performers. but you hadn't even been out of the main hall two minutes when a servant came to fetch you.

"His highness requests your presence."

Your blood ran cold and your gulped. Oh gods, you had offended him hadn't you? He was going to kill you, probably behead you right there in the middle of the banquet himself-

You were thinking yourself into a panic when you returned to the banquet hall, eyes downcast now. You bowed, kneeling on the ground and hands clasped in front of your bare midriff.

Faintly you heard a scoff, and then the music stopped. You felt yourself go even more still, eyes darting around to see what happened. Unable to tell, you lifted your head slightly to see the king sauntering his way towards you. He had stepped directly over the table, spilling wine all over the princess in the process.

You quickly bowed your head again and tried not to hyperventilate. You didn't want to pass out now.

Two surprisingly clean leather boots entered your vision and on instinct, you looked up. King Bakugou was even more attractive up close, obviously built for battle with strong chords of muscle littered with scars, a sharp jawline and a head of unruly blonde hair.

"Did I say you could look at me?"

"No, your majesty." you squeak and quickly look back down.

Bakugou crouches to be level with your and grips your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his scarlet gaze.

"Did I say you could look away?" he grumbles this time.

"No, your majesty." You feel conflicted, unsure if he’d be more offended if you averted your eyes or just kept looking at him.

His eyes rake over your body again before coming back to yours.

"What's your name, pretty thing?"

"Y/N. I'm a dancer in my king's court." you answer, praying your voice doesn't sound as shaky as you feel.

He doesn't say anything but lets your chin go and rises to his feet. You rub the bottom half of your face, thinking it might just bruise. Bakugou isn't done with you, though and grabs your wrist, hauling you up from the floor. "What-?" you start to ask but a red-eyed glare has you clamping your mouth shut. The barbarian king drags you with him, right up to the high table. He lifts you over the table as if you weigh nothing, and sits you down on his lap. Right next to the princess. The banquet hall continued to steep in silence until Bakugou looked up.

"Fuck are you all looking at? Get on with the feast!" he yelled, and the music and chatter started back up.

"Your majesty, shouldn't worry with commoners-" she starts and Bakugou growls, actually growls so menacingly, you feel your own blood run cold.

"If I wanted your dumbass fucking opinion, I'd ask for it. Shut the fuck up."

Once he was sure the princess was properly cowed he turned his attention back on you. The arm wrapped around your waist holding you against his was warm against your bare skin.

"Pour me some wine." He commanded and your started before shakily lifting the pitcher and pouring some into his goblet. You hadn't it off to him carefully, and he quickly knocked it back before signaling for you to pour another.

"Most king's with a lick of sense wouldn't let a treasure like you out of their sight, so what are you doing in my court?" Bakugou asks.

"His Majesty decreed that the most talented entertainers accompany Her Highness to Your Majesty's court, for you entertainment and pleasure." you answer, handing off the refilled goblet.

Bakugou snorts at your measured and obviously practiced response. You night have heard him mutter 'toothless old bastard' under his breath, but you can't be sure.

"Give me a strawberry.", he gestures at the plate of fruit no six inches from him and you barely manage not to roll your eyes. Warlord or not, royals will always be royals, you think and pick up one of the berries.

The dragon king open his mouth and allows you to place the fruit on his tongue before biting into it. His ruby red eyes don't leave yours for a second, gripping your wrist when your try to pull away. Some juice trickles down your hand, and without breaking eye contact, Bakugou laves his tongue over your skin licking up the trail of red. He eats the rest of the berry, lips catching on your fingers before the lets your hand go in favor of picking up his wine goblet again.

"My entertainment and pleasure huh? I'm entertained, but I don't know about pleased..." he says, smirking into his goblet.

"Is there anything I can do for Your Majesty?" you manage to ask, brain still reeling from the whole thing with the strawberry.

And you walk right into his trap.

"Yeah, I can think of something..." he starts before leaning closer to you.

His hat breath fans against your neck for a moment, letting your get squirmy and nervous before continuing.

"Fucking you until you cry all that pretty makeup off... Then I'd be real fucking pleased." he says with a predatory smile spreading across his face.

You squeak, face heating under your veil as you try to formulate a response. You have no idea if the princess heard but if she did-

"Y-your majesty, I don't think-" you start but Bakugou cuts you off by grinding his hips up into yours.

"Good thing you don't need to think to take my cock." he muses.

The princess, appears to have reached her limit of watching her fiance flirt with someone else right in front of her.

"Your Majesty! I understand that this is a political marriage but I will not sit here and be humiliated and witch you proposition a commoner in front of me!" she exclaims.

You're a little surprised at her outburst considering the environment, but you guessed everyone had limits.

All chatter and music in the hall ceased for the second time that night. Bakugou pulled his face out of your neck to glare at the princess.

"You can fuck off for all I care. Your side wanted the fucking treaty, I don't have a problem with saddling up and burning your shitty country to the ground tonight." Bakugou stated, his anger growing with each word.

"King Bakugou those words could be taken as an act of war. " the diplomatic envoy from your country, stands and approaches the high table.

"What the- Did you idiots forget where you are? You're in the heart of the Badlands, in the court of Katsuki Bakugo, barbarian warlord and King of Dragons. This is my fucking kingdom and I'll do what I very well fucking please. And if I want to fuck this courtesan on the table right in front of your perfect little princess, I will. " He snarls and all you can do is sit there and pray he doesn't actually follow through on that threat.

Not that you'd hate it, seeing the look on the princess's face as you got fucked by her betrothed. Hah, serves her fucking right for always being such a brat.

"But I'm not a cruel king. I'll marry this one, and you can keep your silly little treaty." Bakugou says and both the diplomat and the princess scoff.

You balk, looking up at King Bakugou in surprise. He's going to what now?

"You can't possible expect the princess to be content with being on the same level as a commoner, even as a consort-" the diplomat starts to protest, which is quickly cut off by Bakugou's harsh laugh.

"You're a country of fucking dumbasses? I'm not marrying your brat of a princess, dump her off on some other poor bastard. I'm marrying Y/N instead of her. They'll be my consort. Won't you, pretty thing?" He says, looking at your for your answer.

"Say yes, treasure. I'm rich as fuck, I could give you anything you want. If I can't buy it I can take it. There's nothing I can't do. You wouldn't lift a fucking finger with me, I can promise that." he boasts to you and you know this.

King Bakugou is an unstoppable force. You had a hard life as a commoner, as a dancer. You weren't a servant but always being at the beck and call of nobility, dancing for them until your feet bled, until you fainted from exhaustion.

You deserved to be greedy, just like the man holding you in his lap.

"Yes, I'll marry you." you answer, and Bakugou smiles wickedly.

Good, he likes greedy. It's one of his favorite traits.

He turns his head back to look at the diplomat and princess from your home country. The diplomat looks like he's sweating buckets and the princess is so angry you think she might start breathing fire.

"So, do we have an agreement? Y/N for your protection?" he asks.

"Y-yes your majesty." the diplomat stutters at the same time the princess protests.

"We do not! How dare you disrespect me so openly, you filthy little wench-" she starts, only to be silenced by the sight of Bakugou pulling his sword. He points the tip at the princess, visibly seething with rage.

"Shut your worthless fucking mouth before I shut it for you." he growls.

Fear takes over the princess' face and she stumbles back behind the diplomat.

"Oi, don't piss on my floor or anything, fucking cowards. Show some respect to my new consort. Bend the knee and I'll forget this transgression." Bakugou orders.

While not officially married  yet, he's bestowed the title of consort upon you and now you outrank the princess. In fact, you outrank nearly everyone here, sans Katsuki, who is your equal. The diplomat and princess wordlessly fall into a bow, and the nobles from both courts follow suit.

"Alright that's enough groveling for now. This banquet is over, I'm retiring to my bed chambers. If you need me, don't." Bakugou gruffs and stands up, once again easily scooping you up into his arms.

"I'm going to rip this pretty little costume to shreds, and pump and heir into you tonight, goddamn it." Bakugou murmurs in your ear as he carries you though out his(your) palace.

"I like this one..." your protest weakly as he kicks a door open, throwing you onto his bed.

He grasps the waistline of your costume, easily ripping the silk to shreds with his bare hands.

"I'm buy you forty just like it, now spread your legs, Consort." he orders, licking his lips.

"I didn't get to finish my meal earlier." He hums and you squeak in anticipation.

"Cute. Let's see how many cute noises you can make, huh?"

@hanji-is-life i hope you enjoy!

#bakugou fanfiction #bakugou kastuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x gnc reader #dragon king bakugou #bakugou imagine

[starglow-xx]

hello! may i request headcanons for chuuya having a crush on someone who's dense? like he could ask them out in the most straightforward way possible and it would still go over their head?

yes, yes of course you may!

sorry this took so long! my computer was out of commission for abt a week (or two..??)

but this is also my birthday writing piece for chuuya!! (4/29/21) i even added a small drabble thingy in addition to the hcs for the occasion hehe

from where i am, it is about fifteen minutes past midnight so it’s officially chuuya day here!!

happy birthday chuuya i love you! you deserve the whole world and everyone is willing to fight tooth and nail to ensure your happiness! we love you! 💗💗

anyways, i hope you all enjoy this! i kinda had some writer’s block but it was still a lot of fun to write! there might be some mistakes, but i’ll scan over it again later. reader is gender neutral! have fun!

chuuya having a crush on a dense! reader

nakahara chuuya x gn! reader

im cackling somebody help him

he’s frustrated bc you can’t take a hint or a thousand but he can’t even be mad bc he’s whipped

“look at you all dressed up today, wanna go out later? my treat?”

“oh really? thanks chuuya-san! you’re such a nice friend. i’ll go invite the others right now, i’ll see you later!”

“...”

fast forward to later in the evening and he finds himself at a little restaurant with the black lizard + higuchi and akutagawa

sigh

in unison all of them go, “thank you for the meal chuuya-san!” (except aku and hirotsu are quieter & and gin just a nods hehe)

“no problem” (ꐦ ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )

gin only pats him on the back in sympathy

he spends a lot of time trying to think of ways to make it absolutely and undeniably clear that he has feelings for you

he always fails

“(y/n) i like you”

“i like you too chuuya-san”

“really?”

“mhm”

“t-then will you—”

“you’re a really great friend! and superior too”

“...nevermind”

“oh were you saying something?”

“nah, just forget about it”

tachihara is laughing in the corner of the corridor

dont worry, chuuya made sure to get back at him

chuuya’s been pinning after you for years and frankly, his failed attempts to woo you has lead everyone to the breaking point

and i mean everyone

yes, even aku

hell even dazai

but dazai also thinks it’s funny, so he doesn’t mind all that much

okay bye bye dazai-san this headcanon set isn’t abt you rn

PLEASE EVERYONE FEELS SO BAD FOR HIM

they knew even if he kissed you, you still might not get it

so they decided to help him

super secret mission get chuuya and (y/n) together is a go!

they’re still working on a proper mission name, don’t mind them

they had a super secret strategy meeting!

you can bet your ass that they nearly got nothing done

akutagawa & kaiji weren’t much help, neither was higuchi, mori, or elise

tachihara nearly got killed for a thoughtless comment

“just tell them chuuya-san!”

“i already fucking did you ass!”

gin, hirotsu, and kouyou were the most helpful !!

hirotsu and kouyou both agreed on the idea that chuuya should try courting with bouquets of flowers instead of flat out asking you bc they knew you found them pretty

(even if you don’t identify as a female, flowers are for everyone no matter gender or sexuality! so let’s normalize giving flowers to everyone <33 )

gin didn’t speak but she used cards to communicate

everyone knew that you weren’t stupid (you wouldn’t have survived in the mafia if you were) but they did know that you were only stupid when it came to all this lovey dovey stuff

i mean, if chuuya gave you flowers every so often, there’s no way that you wouldn’t piece it together at some point

right...??

but kouyou assured him that even though you wouldn’t get it right away, you’d appreciate the gestures and that he’ll stand out more

she even said that if someone gave her flowers, she would appreciate it, whether or not she reciprocated their feelings

it takes guts to be so up front with your feelings after all

gin and hirotsu only nodded with her explanation

once again, this only provoked a reaction out of tachihara

“what do you know gin? i get the old man and kouyou-san, they’re grown, but you? what do you know abt courting? or flowers? what are you a girl?”

akutagawa choked on his cough, higuchi on air, and on the other side of yokohoma at the ada, dazai is cackling

yes, dazai somehow placed a listening device onto chuuya’s hat and was listening in

don’t ask how, it’s dazai

“DAZAI GET YOUR BANDAGED ASS OFF THE COUCH AND STOP LAUGHING”

anyways

the next day, chuuya did what was barely discussed and for once, things actually started to look up

until they started look to down again

at first, it actually looked like you understood his intentions after he gave you a bouquet of flowers

literally everyone was leaning against the opposite hallway you two were in and then they got excited !!

especially chuuya !

but then your expression sort of changed...??

and then in their heads they simultaneously went, “oh no”

they knew that expression

it was very familiar when you tended to friend zone chuuya

but boy let me tell you what you said next made them facepalm and or make their jaws drop

“ah, so you really are friend zoning me huh chuuya-san; what a shame, i really did like you”

LEMME TELL YOU WHEN I SAY THAT CHUUYA WAS DISTRESSED I MEAN HE WAS DISTRESSED

you liked him??

him of all people??

he wasn’t complaining, no of course not, but he still couldn’t believe it

but that wasn’t what he was really focusing on right now

what in any form or language did it say he was friend zoning you?!

flower language apparently

chuuya chose to buy the bouquet of yellow roses, pink carnations, and yellow carnations bc he thought you would appreciate the brighter colors, and so that you’d remember them better (because remembering them, meant remembering him)

but ooh boy

altogether, they meant the exact opposite message he wanted to send

someone help him pls

“you see chuuya-san, yellow roses mean friendship, pink carnations mean gratitude, and yellow carnations mean rejection; sooo in a nutshell, these pretty much say ‘thank you for being my friend, but im rejecting you”

no one can tell if tachihara is crying or wheezing

and dazai is having the time of his life

yes, he started listening in on him again

and chuuya is just stunned

like speechless and unmoving stunned

is he just bad at this whole courting/dating thing?? it’s only been one day and of it and somehow he was the one doing the rejecting??

“thank you for the flowers chuuya-san, i’ll be going now; i’ll make sure to let this affect our friendship. i’ll see you tomorrow!”

you passed by the not so subtle group of people

“tachihara-kun..?? are you alright?”

just for context, he was leaning his forehead against the wall using his forearm

again, it was hard to tell whether he was crying or wheezing

“i-im okay (y/n)-san...i think c-chuuya-san has it worse than me”

“...okay..?”

BACK TO CHUUYA

he’s still frozen poor baby

but it’s okay bc after like 5 more seconds he’s chasing you down the hallway you were walking in

kouyou, with a knowing smile on her face, ushers everyone away towards the opposite direction

she received some whines (ahem, tachihara and mori) but silenced them by summoning golden demon

but it’s okay

if they run fast enough, they can see what happens through the security cameras

chuuya caught up with you and tried to explain everything but he was exhausted

emotionally, physically (bc since when did you walk that fast??), and generally just tired with the whole situation

he just wanted to call you his; was that too much to ask??

as explosive as he can be, he can be calm and collected too

and he really did try to be that way as he talked with you but it was very difficult at the moment

the dumbfounded and confused look on your face his face twitch with annoyance and his heart started beating faster bc god you were cute

BUT THATS BESIDES THE POINT RIGHT NOW

thank goodness after what seemed like years, you finally somewhat understood what happened

you didn’t understand completely but it was something

The two of you stood in the middle of the unusually empty hallway facing each other, you with the bouquet still in hand. It was quiet as you and Chuuya assessed the situation.

You looked at him skeptically and he stared right back you with his gorgeous blue eyes.

“...So you do like me Chuuya-san??”

“Yes”

“And you were trying to court me just now, not friend zone me??”

“Yes”

You got most of your questions out of the way, but there was something that you’ve been wondering about for quite a while.

“...So you’re not gay for Dazai-san??”

“Yes, im not wait—GAY FOR DAZAI?? THAT MACKEREL??”

Chuuya did a double take. What in heavens name made it seem like he liked that suicidal maniac?? Why would he choose him if he had you?

Like he would choose him anyways; or ever consider him as a possible romantic partner.

“Oh, so you are?”

“NO! I SAID I LIKED YOU DIDN’T I?”

“Well yeah, but I thought you liked Dazai-san too. As annoying as he is, he can be quite charming—”

He was out of patience at this point (nope definitely not because you were talking about Dazai who told you that?) and just decided to kiss you.

You immediately melted into the kiss and kissed him back with the same amount of love and feeling.

Letting the bouquet fall to the ground, you wrapped you arms around his neck and his put his on your lower back and brought you closer to him. After a few more moments, the two of you broke apart for air.

The two of you, slightly out of breath, leaned your foreheads against each other and just basked in each others presence.

Chuuya looked into your (e/c) eyes and asked you just a little bit above a whisper, “Now do you get my intentions and feeling?”

You blinked at him before breaking out into a grin, “Hmm I’m not sure; do you wanna do that again Chuuya?”

The red head only blinked back at you before rolling his eyes, a smile present on his handsome features, his heart fluttering at you using his name with the honorific.

“Dumbass”

Smiling cheekily at him, you pressed a kiss on his cheek and started dragging him towards the lobby to take a walk around the building perimeter, knowing that the two of you can’t be too far from work.

The way down to the lobby was mostly in comfortable silence until you said something that made Chuuya want to bash his head against the wall.

“You know, you could’ve just told me you liked me Chuuya. It’s not like I would’ve said no.”

Once again, as the rest of the more power mafia members watch from security cameras, it is hard to tell whether Tachihara is crying or wheezing of laughter.

omake !!

The two of you just started making your way around the building when suddenly a very familiar voice came from Chuuya’s prized hat.

“Chuuyaaaa!! It was about time you stopped being a chicken, Chibi!”

Removing his hat from his head, he started yelling at it not knowing exactly where the listening device was planted.

“TEME! HOW DID YOU—”

“And (y/n)! I would congratulate you, but I think I would rather offer you my condolences. Why him?! He’s just a slimy slug. OOH OOH how would you like to join me in a double suicide?! A shame it won’t be a lover’s suicide but it’ll annoy Chuuya so I think it’ll be worth it! ”

“YOU—”

“And please don’t kiss while I’m listening in. You made me lose my appetite! And it was such a shame! I was eating crab using Kunikida-kun’s money! Do you know what you’ve cost me?!”

“DAZAI YOU PIECE OF—”

“Ah! Kunikida-kun is here! I have to go!”

You can hear something is the background that vaguely sounds like, “DAZAI YOU WASTE OF BANDAGES STOP USING MY MONEY”

“DAZAI DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE IM NOT DONE WITH—”

*Click!*

The click sound from the hat revealed that Dazai disconnected.

Chuuya twitched and glared furiously at his signature hat hating that the voice he hated the most came out of it.

“Aww, I didn’t get to talk to Dazai-san”

Chuuya whipped his head towards you, a look of mock (or real) betrayal showing on his features.

You laughed at him before taking the hat out of his hands and placing it on his head.

He shyly looked away before muttering a thanks making you smile wider. Just as the two of you were about to start walking, a small explosion erupted from his hat; it was likely that Dazai made the listening device self destruct.

“DAZAI YOU BASTARDD”

At the Armed Detective Agency, a certain suicidal maniac hid from the wrath of his current partner as he thought about the wrath his old one.

“Hmmm I wonder if Chuuya would finally stop wearing his ugly hats if I blow all of them up...”

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #nakahara chuuya #chuuya nakahara #x reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #port mafia #pm #port mafia x reader #pm x reader #fluff #drabble #head canons #anime #bsd manga #bungou stray dogs imagine #bsd imagine #bungou stray dogs drabble #bsd drabble #star writes! #fanfiction #star's head canons #star's drabbles #happy birthday chuuya!

[akakeiiji]

Headcanons for how the boys will react or what will they do when their S/O is sick but hides it from them? (For Tobio, Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Iwa) please

-`,✎ Kageyama, Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima and Iwaizumi’s reaction to you hiding your fever from them

Kageyama Tobio

You would arrive at school flushed and tired, dressed in many layers but your ever so clueless boyfriend wouldn’t actually suspect anything

He’d greet you as usual and ask if you were cold or something despite the relatively warm weather

You didn’t want him to worry though so you just agreed with him and went on with your classes like normal

As the day went on though, your symptoms would start worsening

During lunchtime, you wouldn’t have the energy to leave your desk

Kageyama would go looking for you when you failed to arrive at your usual meeting place and found you fast asleep in your classroom

He’d scoff and call you a dumbass to himself but when placed his hand on your head and felt your warm temperature the small smile on his face would immediately turn into a frown

He’d shake you awake and the first thing you’d see is his concerned face

“Are you an idiot or something?”

He’d pull you up and support you as he walks you to the nurse’s office his admirers would stare at you two angrily the entire time

you can’t tell me he doesn’t have at least a few fangirls, i mean have you seen him??

He’d lecture you angrily the whole way to the infirmary

Though he’d mostly just be repeating “Dumbass!” and “You should have told me.” over and over again because he’s so worried and can’t focus on forming coherent sentences

You were sent home obviously and Kageyama would wait by your side at the infirmary the whole time till your ride came to take you home

He’d still be pouty and grumbling, upset over the fact that you forced yourself to school

But at the same time, he’d be feeding you a bit of your lunch, little by little so as to not upset your stomach

Once you were home, he’d be even more distracted and antsy during class than ever before

He wouldn't even be thinking of volleyball, just of you

HE’D SKIP PRACTICE FOR YOU

THE KAGEYAMA WILLINGLY MISSES PRACTICE FOR YOU, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT

He’d stop by the gym though and ask Sugawara or Daichi what he should get for you because he has no idea what to get sick people

He’d buy you your favorite snacks and drinks on the way to your house and spend the evening with you

He doesn’t really know what to do tbh, you’d have to instruct him on how to help you

He doesn’t get sick very often and whenever he does his sister usually takes care of him so he’s never been in the position of caring for someone else like this

But he tries his best and that’s what matters

He’s just an adorable little blueberry okay? Pls protect him

Bokuto Koutarou

Your disheveled appearance and lethargic state would literally fly over Bokuto’s head

He’s mainly focused on how happy he was to see you again, like how he always is in the morning before class

After a while though, Bokuto would notice that something was off

He’d tilt his head to the side and ask you if you were okay, concern evident in his eyes

You could already see Bokuto’s reaction if he found out how sick you actually were so you just told him you were a little tired

He’d frown and tell you not to overwork yourself,  he’d then pull you into his chest to hug you in hopes that it would cheer you up or give you some energy

He’d freeze though, feeling just how high your body temperature was even through your layers of clothes

He’d pull you away and examine your face and finally realizes just how sick you were

Panic ensues

I shit you not, Bokuto would literally scoop you up in his arms and carry you all the way to the infirmary

“MAKE WAY PEOPLE, EMERGENCY HERE!”

“KOUTAROU! YOU DON’T HAVE TO CARRY ME—”

Akaashi would be walking to class and witness this scene from afar and just nope the fuck away from you two

He is literally so concerned, he knows that you just have a fever but he still can’t help but worry

He wouldn’t leave your side the entire time while waiting for your ride home, his hand never leaving yours

He’d beat himself up over the fact that he didn’t notice that something was wrong right away

He’d be in dejection mode the whole time during the rest of classes, his hair would get droopy and his little pout would never leave his lips

He’d spend most of his classes staring out of the window, sighing wistfully, thinking about you

He’d try to function normally and go to practice but Akaashi—knowing that it would be virtually impossible to pull him out of his moods this time—would send him home

He’d be moping the whole way home before an idea suddenly popped in his head, he should just visit you!!

He’d run all the way to your house, practically bouncing with anticipation

He’d be like a loyal puppy as he takes care of you, he’ll bring you literally anything you need, just name it and he’ll find it

He doesn’t care if you’re sick, he’s going to hug and kiss you all he wants

Needless to say, he ends up catching your fever as well and you two end up sick together

The volleyball team goes to visit you two after classes the next day and you two are basically just two red-nosed, lumps wrapped in blankets and heating pads

Konoha still has pictures and likes to show it to the team when they get sad

Oikawa Tooru

Good luck trying to hide your fever from him, he may not look like it but he’s hella perceptive even outside of the court

He’d wait by your lockers as usual in the mornings, probably chatting (and failing to wave off) some fangirls when you’d walk in wearing a thick sweater and wrapped in a scarf to hide your face

The small smile on his face would drop and he’d immediately be by your side, examining your face

“Tooru, what are you doing—?”

He’d place a hand on your forehead—ignoring your protests—and click his tongue, a hand coming up to rest on his hip

“What am I doing? What are you doing? You’re obviously sick.”

Dramatic brat, i love him so much

He’d grab your hand and march you all the way to the infirmary, telling you off the entire time

He’d tell you all about having to take care of your body and prioritizing your health over studies or something, as if he were such a great example of taking care of one’s body but you decided not to bring that up

He’d kind of be like a mom really as he watches the nurse take your temperature, his arms crossed and a concerned look evident on his face

You were obviously sent home not even after fifteen minutes of being in school

Oikawa would seem normal to most people, going about his day like usual but those who know him well can tell that he was bothered

His foot would be tapping rapidly the entire time during classes, his eyes always drifting to his watch to check the time

The minute that classes were dismissed, Oikawa was on his feet, bag already packed and ready, practically sprinting out of the building

“How’s my little patient doing?”

He’d refrain from kissing and hugging you though, unlike Bokuto he has some semblance of self-restraint despite wanting to do it sooo badly

He missed you a lot

Okay, fine, he gives a few kisses here and there

After taking care of you, making sure you ate and drank and stuff, Oikawa would fill you in on all the stuff you missed during classes

If you had the energy, he’d tutor you on all the lessons you missed

He’d also be the type to spoon-feed you your favorite food or soup, even if you insist that you could feed yourself he will still do it no matter what

A firm believer that laughter is the best medicine so he tries his best to keep your mood up

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Another clueless baby

He isn’t the best at reading people—especially outside of the court—so he doesn’t really notice anything wrong at first

He’d pick you up at your dorm like usual so that you could have breakfast together

You’d be visibly sluggish and flushed but he’d just assume you were tired or overworked

“Did you not get any sleep last night?”

You’d just wave him off, telling him that you were perfectly alright and that he didn’t need to worry

He would drop the subject but would make sure to keep a close eye on you

You wouldn’t eat much at all during breakfast which would just feed more to his worries

Then while you two were walking to class, you started getting lightheaded and had to lean on the wall for support

Ushijima was able to catch you as you stumbled, a deep frown on his face as he takes you to the infirmary, practically carrying you the whole way

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

He immediately disregards the fact that he’s gonna be late for class and stays with you at the infirmary

It isn’t obvious but anyone who knows Ushi well can tell that he’s really concerned and worried about you

The nurse instructs him to bring you back to your dorm and head to class

He only does the latter and literally skips classes for you

You would try to get him to go back to class but this boy is stubborn, he doesn’t want to leave you alone and wants to take care of you

I say take care of you loosely, he’s just like Kageyama, he has absolutely no idea what to do

He knows he needs to get medicine, get some food and water in you and stuff but asides from that he’s clueless

He’d go to Google and you two would spend some time researching on how to properly care for someone sick

You two end up falling into a rabbit hole of weird articles and get distracted

Ushijima will make sure you never have to leave your bed except for when you need to use the bathroom, he doesn’t want you up

Most of the time would be spent in silence, you two doing your own thing because Ushijima wouldn’t want to risk catching your fever

He has to take care of his body okay? He can’t play if he’s sick so he’s probably going to wear a mask when he’s with you and will always have a bottle of rubbing alcohol with him at all times sakusa is proud

He wouldn't get upset over the fact that you hid your fever from him but he just doesn’t understand why you chose to hide it from him and force yourself to go to class

When you explain that you don’t want to miss any of your lessons and fall behind, Ushijima would just shake his head and tell you a matter a factly that you need to take care of yourself

“Your health should be your top priority, (Y/N). Next time you’re feeling unwell just tell me.”

HE CARES SO MUCH OKAY, PLEASE MY HEART

Iwaizumi Hajime

You are not going to get past Iwaizumi and you knew that so you’d try to avoid him the morning before class

Iwa has a sixth sense when it comes to these sort of things, it’s how he always knows when Oikawa is overworking himself or when his teammates are down

He’d immediately seek you out and once he sees you he can tell that you’re sick instantaneously

I feel like Iwa is an older brother and knows the symptoms when he sees them because he takes care of his siblings all the time

He’d touch your forehead, throw his blazer over you and rush you towards the infirmary

He starts lecturing you immediately, calling you an idiot for not taking care of yourself but you know he means it out of love

He’d give you a list of instructions to do when you get home, typing it rapidly on his phone at the same time making sure to send them to you in case you forget

“—drink a lot of water okay? Make sure you have a bottle by your bed. I’ll come by after classes, just text me if you need anything, I can drop by the store on the way.”

Basically Iwa is a super mom, okay? He knows just what to do for fevers, he knows the best medicines to use and the best food to eat

He may not seem like it but he is super caring also probably the most normal out of these boys

He’d check his texts after classes and as promised, would drop by the store and buy whatever you asked for along with stuff you need to deal with fevers (electrolyte drinks, meds, soup, etc.)

He’d walk into your room and immediately check your temperature and make sure you’ve already eaten and have been drinking water

He’d use more traditional home remedies to help you get better because that’s what his family always did

He’d also take out a Vicks vaporub and start slathering you in that shit

Half-Filipino Iwa? Half-Filipino Iwa.

He’d be like Ushijima and try to keep his distance from you at the same time, he doesn’t want to catch your fever

But at the same time he always finds himself back by your side, he just can’t help it

Constantly asks you if you’re okay, if you need anything, if the room is too hot

He’ll do anything to make your life a little easier and make sure you’re comfortable and resting well

His main priority is to get you up and well in no time, he doesn’t want to see you bedridden any longer

Basically Iwa is the epitome of “aggressively cares for you”

It may not be obvious but Hajime has one of the biggest hearts in the series and he deserves the literal world 

i love him so much please i can literally write a whole essay about how much i love this boy

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio headcanons #bokuto koutarou #bokuto #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou headcanons #oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru headcanons #ushijima wakatoshi #Ushijima #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi headcanons #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime headcanons

[yeojaa]

( DEVIL IN A NEW SUIT. )

Money’s something that makes the world go around.  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with securing the bag.  You don’t shame anyone for doing what they need to do.  

That is, until you come face to face with the poor guy that’s being suckered out of both his heart and cash.  You simply can’t let it go on.

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.  idiots to lovers.  fluff, angst, smut.  the holy trifecta, babies!  explicit, obviously.  

tags / warnings.  mentions of infidelity, kook being adorable and sad, reader being a bit of a tactless butthole, a satin playsuit (very nsfw), kook does a 180, smut in the form of: a slight oral fixation, too much spit, overstimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex (pls don’t be irresponsible).

wc.  12.2k of nonsense.  pure nonsense, i tells ya. 

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ did what she always does aka read through this and made me a better writer and @yeoldontknow​ dealt with my big dumbass and let me cry about my pea brain to her.  i love you both sm!!!  ✨💜

author note.  the long-awaited fic is here!!  i really hope you enjoy it.  if you do, please maybe leave a comment or something?  i swung back and forth between loving and hating this so it’d really, really mean a lot.  anyway, thanks as always for reading and i adore you!  stay safe and happy and healthy!

He’s a sucker.  That’s what you think of him, despite the fact you’ve never met him.  It’d be impossible not to, given what you’ve heard. 

His girlfriend - or something - is in every other week, flashing his black card like she has something to prove.  Sometimes, she’s by herself;  often, she’s with another gaggle of girls that fawn all over themselves and shriek a little too loudly for your taste.  They’re vapid, snooty in a way that makes you cringe every time they step into the boutique.  Still, you’re nice because this is your job and you have to be.  You can’t exactly tell a paying customer to get lost - even if you think it at least six times each visit. 

“He has no idea.”  It’s always the same thing, a story that pulls at your heartstrings yet has you scoffing in equal parts.  “I told him we were doing a girls’ trip but Hyunjin’s going to meet me on his way back and we’re spending the week at the Ritz.”

How can he possibly be this dumb, you wonder.  How can’t he see past the pretty pink lipstick and perfectly coiffed blonde hair?  It isn’t even that nice of a colour job - too icy and reminiscent of Malibu Barbie. 

(She’d bragged about it once - how she’d gotten an appointment at one of the most coveted salons in the city, spending hours in the stylist’s chair to get this “perfect shade”.  Her words, not yours.)

You figure he must be some lonely schmuck, some poor old sap who can’t possibly get what he’s looking for anywhere else.  Maybe he had some weird spoiling kink - if so, where was your man like that - or he just wanted companionship and found it in the arms of girls who paid him any sort of attention.  Truthfully, you thought a lot of things about him.  Kind of had to, given how often his girlfriend was in, rambling about her exploits and snickering behind his back.

You’d never expected him to be like this.

Jeon Jungkook shows up on a Sunday afternoon, shortly after lunch and with the dopiest smile on his face. 

Your colleague notices him first, nudging you to attention because you, unlike her, actually do productive things while you’re at work like go through layaways and make sure items aren’t sitting in the back gathering dust.

“He’s cute,”  she very poorly whispers, voice carrying because it always does.  She’s a younger girl - maybe a few years your junior, who’d gotten her job through pure nepotism - but she’s sweet enough.  Zero tact, though.  Never notices when she’s being just a little too forceful with her sales but her sweet smile and full rack seem to keep her from getting into any trouble.  You consider her a vaguely annoying sister, someone you love even when you don’t necessarily like her.

You glance up from the iPad balanced in your hands, disinterested.  “Who?”

There’s an older couple striding past the entrance, hand-in-hand with three Hermes bags.  (God, what awful taste.)  There’s another couple standing at the mouth of the Louis Vuitton boutique, bickering about which belt will best match the boyfriend’s tux best.  (The answer is neither, because those belts do not belong with a classic black tux.)

“Him.”

Yejin all but points him out, jerking her chin in his direction.  You don’t know how you hadn’t really clocked him in the first place.  Maybe because he’s so unassuming that you’d just brushed over him, noting his outfit before moving on.  When you look at him - really look at him - you can’t look away.

You think he’s handsome in that off-kilter kind of way, too-big teeth and too-wide eyes.  He’s terribly innocent looking, despite the fact that he’s wearing a gleaming gold Rolex and sleek black boots you recognise from Prada’s 2019 RTW.  Everything he wears is tailored, fitting him to the point you wonder who his seamstress  is.  

But then he speaks, and it’s not the suave, sultry voice you’d expect.  It’s featherlight and almost shy, bashful in its delivery.  

“I’m here to pick up a bag for my girlfriend?”  He upspeaks.  It’s stupidly adorable.

Bless her soul, Yejin throws a glance in your direction first.  A silent ‘yours or mine?’ that’s answered when you step forward, blindingly bright customer service smile in full effect.  “What’s the item and the name it’s under?”  You keep in mind he’s said girlfriend very clearly, even as you can’t help but trail your stare over his shoulders, the dimple that digs itself into his cheek when he speaks again.

“Oh, it’s under mine.  Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” 

You’re floored.  This is Jeon Jungkook?  This specimen draped in leather and fine Japanese silk is the poor idiot wrapped around Barbie’s finger?  You’ve got to be kidding.

You wonder whether the surprise is evident on your face.  It must be, given how quickly Yejin interrupts, piping up in that saccharine sweet voice of hers.  “I’ll grab it!  The Box bag in cloud, right?”

Jungkook can only nod dumbly.  He has no idea what he’s there to pick up - only that he needs to because his girlfriend is away on a trip with her two best female friends.  He tells you as much, chuckling at his own ignorance.  It’d be cute if it weren’t so sad, his eyes twinkling like the jewels set in your ears.  There’s so much love in his eyes it’s frankly sickening.  

It comes before you can help it, snapping off your tongue - an oil spill ready to drag him to the depths of hell.

“Oh - you’re Kiko’s boyfriend?  I thought you’d left for Hong Kong already.”  Your head tilts - the picture of innocence as you continue to spew things you shouldn’t, staining the innocence of his expression with each word that drops off.  “She said she was leaving on Friday.”  Even while you’re tearing this poor man’s life apart, you’re racking your brain for the off-handed comments she’d made.  “She kept going on and on about how she was so excited to be staying at the Ritz.”

It’s almost like you gain some sick sort of satisfaction in watching his face fall.  You’ve never seen someone crumble so quickly, every ounce of affection swept up and spat out in the time it takes you to take a solid, proper breath.  

You do feel bad.  Not for saying it, but for being the person to do this.  For hurting this stranger.  (At least he knew?)

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”  Gone is the sunny friendliness, the blissful geniality.  He’s very much uncertain, bunny teeth digging into the full swell of his bottom lip.  He’s pigeon-toed and round-shouldered, thick brows drawn neatly over his stare as he focuses on some indeterminate point somewhere by his feet. 

If Yejin were on the floor with you, she’d tell you to knock it off.  Chastise you for getting involved in something you had no business being in.  (She’d be right, but you’ve always been an advocate for tough love.)  As it stands, she’s still in the back finding that stupid girl’s bag and you’re here, shaking your head, weakening Jungkook’s resolve with the edge of your teeth.  “No, she definitely said she was going away with her boyfriend.  Did you maybe give us the wrong name?”

Maybe if he weren’t so upset, he’d be more offended by the insinuation he’s stupid.  Instead, he only falters further, head mimicking yours.  Poor guy.

“I—I think there’s been a mistake.”

Yeah, you dating that gold-digger, you want to say.  Instead, you meet his stare like you haven’t just dug a thousand holes in his foundation.  “Oh, maybe.  I’m sorry.”  The apology is honest, even if the meaning behind it isn’t.  That’s a thing, right?  Apologising to make someone feel better, even when you don’t necessarily agree with it?  

God, you’re an altruist. 

“It’s fine.”  When he stutters, adorable lisp coming out to play, you know it’s not.  You applaud him for his brave face, even if it’s very poorly offered - a makeshift mask you think you could tear off with just another well-aimed word.  (You won’t.)

“Here it is!”  Yejin’s back, bouncing out from behind the counter with the giant white bag in her hands.  If she notices the atmosphere, she says nothing.  You remind yourself to tell her good job once Jungkook leaves - and you know he’ll leave the moment he’s got those silk handles in his hand.  He looks about ready to cry - or ready to fight, you’re not sure.

Once the purchase is passed over, he nods his head furiously and you swear you see a tear go flying.  You don’t have time to ask before he’s hoofing it out of the store.  

He doesn’t even notice he’s left his wallet on the counter.

By the time you snatch it up and round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found.  Probably because running in stilettos is next to impossible and he’s gotten an embarrassed head start.  Well then.

“I guess we’ll have to call him,”  you hum, turning the Prada bi-fold over and over in your hands.  It’s practically brand new, stuffed with large bills, his driver’s license, and few credit cards, including a Hyundai black card.  The same one on file that his girlfriend - maybe soon-to-be ex-girlfriend? - uses shamelessly.

Yejin’s watching you carefully, silently.  You’re counting down how long it’ll be until she asks - because you can see the curiosity swimming in her eyes, practically bulging her cheeks with the effort of keeping her questions caged behind her teeth.

Finally, after a good three minutes, she’s at your side, bony point of her chin digging a grave into your shoulder.  It’s probably not the most appropriate thing but she’s never much been one for decorum.  (You either, but still.) 

“So… what was that about?”

You don’t bother to turn when you speak, back to running through order details and matching them with customers.  “What?”

“You know— that!”  She waves her wrist in a circle, gesturing toward the space Jungkook had occupied not five minutes ago.  “He ran out of here like he was scared for his life.”

“Scared of the truth,”  you correct. 

You hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get more pale - she’s already fine porcelain, perpetually slathered in sunscreen - but she somehow does, balking at your response.  There it is. 

“What?”  There’s a reproachful edge to her words, an uncertainty that tells more than the single syllable. 

“What?”  It’s mimicry and a challenge all in one, meeting her stare from the corner of your periphery.  You can read every emotion that runs through her expression:  shock, displeasure, confusion.  

She retreats a step, bottom lip caught between her teeth.  (She really does remind you of your little sister.)  “So, you told him?”

You shrug, a noncommittal gesture that disrupts the curtain of silk that falls over your shoulder.  You hadn’t laid it out for him but surely he had an idea now.  There was no way he didn’t. 

“I pointed out a few conflicting facts.  That’s all.”  You’re not ashamed about what you’ve done.  You’d want to know if you were him.  Consider it an act of goodwill. 

The silence that meets your ears isn’t surprising but you don’t pay it any further mind.  What’s done is done.  Now he knows, or something close to it.  The chips would simply fall where they were meant to. 

You have to admit - you’re rooting for him. 

Whatever Yejin’s thinking, she keeps it to herself for the rest of the shift.  She knows better than to berate you about something like this, not that she would anyway.  Obnoxious as she can be, you have an understanding.  It strengthens your not-quite-close-friends-but-more-than-colleagues relationship. 

It’s only at the end of your shift that she brings it up again, drifting over to you as you complete your cash count for the evening. 

She holds Jungkook’s wallet in her hand, mouth pursed thoughtfully as she taps it against the edge of the counter.  “You have to call him.”

You almost lose your count, finishing with a pinched expression.  “Whoever works tomorrow morning can call him.”  You’re not brushing off the responsibility - you really could care less - but simply passing it along to the next person.  Sensible. 

As it turns out, you’re the person who works the next morning, called in because another associate has come down with a cold.  

You’re two lattes deep when you remember the wallet, tucked neatly behind the counter with a yellow sticky note posted to the front.  You suppose it’s your responsibility now.  You know if Yejin comes in tomorrow and sees it, she’ll give you her childish brand of hell. 

The line rings twice before it picks up, that oddly familiar voice crackling through the speaker.  “Hello?”

“Jungkook?”  

There’s a beat of silence followed by a careful confirmation. “Yes, that’s me?”  Upspeaking again. How cute. 

“I’m calling from the CELINE boutique.”  You can practically imagine the look on his face, eyes as wide as saucers as he recalls the awful-to-him encounter.  “You left your wallet here and I wanted to make sure you got it back.”

“O-oh, uh—“  It’s like encountering a baby bunny - or deer or something equally adorable and vulnerable.  “Thanks.  I didn’t even notice.  Um, I can come pick it up today?”  There’s another pause, the sound of fingers over a screen, and then he’s back.  “Is that okay?”

Leave it to him to have lost his wallet and yet be worried about putting someone else out.  He truly was a sucker. 

“That’s fine.  We’re open until six tonight.”  

“I’ll be there before dinner.”  As if realizing how vague that is, he continues, words running headlong into each other like he can’t get them out fast enough.  “Before six, I mean.  Um, is around five-thirty okay?” 

You want to tell him to just come whenever, that it really doesn’t matter to you, but that probably isn’t going to help the situation.  Instead, you hum a quiet sound of confirmation.  “Of course.  We’ll see you then.” 

He hangs up immediately. 

The second time you meet Jeon Jungkook, he’s just as endearing as the last.  It’s actually surprising, if you’re being honest.  You’d thought he’d be resentful or mean or any other emotion better fitting someone whose entire world had turned upside-down.

As it stands, he’s just the right-side of anxious, a hundred little sparks of uncertainty flaring beneath his skin and lighting him up in neon.  You can see him from a mile away he’s lit up so bright, seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin.

Your heart aches for him - and then it skips, almost trips over its own two feet when he wanders into the store with his hands dug deep into the pocket of his pants.

How he looks tonight is nothing like how he’d looked yesterday.  Somehow, you like it more.  The undone head-to-toe Balenciaga, the unruly curl of his dark hair.  It’s effortlessly chic - though you think it might have something to do with the fact that he’s just an attractive person.  (Good-looking people could get away with anything - even god-awful fashion faux pas.)

At the sight of you, he seems to further lose steam, eyes widening to such an extent you briefly worry for him.  Surely they’ll fall out of their sockets one day.  

“O-oh.  It’s you.”  The moment the words come, he’s blushing the colour of your red-soled shoes, horrified.  “I m-mean, just—”  He takes a deep breath, finds his footing and tries again.  “You’re the girl that helped me yesterday.”  Spoken like you, the exact girl who helped him yesterday, wouldn’t remember that fact yourself.  

“That’s right,”  you say evenly, expression neutral.  It’s almost as if that surprises him more - as if he’d expected you to shy away from the knowledge.  

The two of you stare at each other for longer than is strictly speaking necessary.  Well, you stare at him and he kind of bounces his eyes around the room.  You know he can’t be that interested in the croc stamp Belt bag behind your head or the selection of small leather goods in the glass case.  

He’s so awkward.

(You did kind of ruin his day though, so you can’t blame him.)

“So, um, my wallet?”  He’s made barely any headway, still lingering awkwardly by the front of the store.  You can’t help your smile - it’s more of a smirk - as you raise the item in question.  

“Right here.”

Jungkook glances from it to your face, then back again.  He makes the same trip twice more.  “Can I have it?”  To your surprise, he’s taken two whole steps toward you, brow furrowed.  He’s still terribly soft, rounded edges and innocent eyes, but he’s making progress.  Good job, you think.

“Of course.”  You mirror him, moving out from behind the counter.  Somehow, that’s not the right move, because his features are breaking and rearranging, big bunny teeth worrying a hole straight through his bottom lip.  You’d think he’d be more confident, more demanding, more… everything.  (You quite like that he isn’t - a complete anomaly - but you also imagine it’s also to his detriment.  Too much honey, not enough vinegar.)

This time, he closes the distance with three long strides.  It hadn’t escaped you how tall he was, the length of his gait - after all, you’d tried to run after him - but you’re still a little surprised when he’s in front of you, not a foot away, arm extended.  Palm out, he asks again, all while refusing eye contact.  “May I have it, please?” 

You hand it over with a soft laugh, pressing the grained leather into his hand.  You expect him to retreat immediately and he does - but then he turns and his expression is inscrutable.  Is he going to say thank you?  Berate you for what you’d done yesterday?

Neither, it seems.  “Why did you do it?”  There’s no anger, just an abiding sadness that laces his words, turns them the saddest shade of blue.

“Do it?”  You know what he means.  You ask anyway.

“Why did you tell me?”  Jungkook’s doing that thing again, alternating between biting his tongue and chewing his cheek as he stares at you.  You can practically see the melancholy rolling off him;  it shines dark on the depths of his irises, how his fist trembles just barely at his side.  For all his good looks and leisurely charm, you can see the effort it takes to hold himself together now.

Guilt ascends, starts somewhere deep in your stomach and turns stomach acid to butterflies.  It creeps higher and higher over your spine, locking each vertebrae until you’re immobile, unable to tear your gaze from his.  “I thought you deserved to know.”

“But why?” 

“What do you mean?”  

It’s almost comical, how both your expressions descend into bewilderment - like looking into a fun house mirror.  He’s trying to wrap his mind around your actions and you’re just trying to make sense of his confusion.  

You anticipate a response - can see it tittering on the tip of his tongue - but he seems to think better of it, shaking his head.  It dislodges a wayward curl from behind his ear, silver twinkling with the movement.  

“Thank you” is all he offers before speed-walking away.

You don’t expect to see Jeon Jungkook for a third time.  

He’s waiting for you when you end your shift on Thursday, standing somewhere between the two boutiques, loitering like some kind of gremlin.  (Except he’s dressed exceptionally well, slick black jeans and a Balenciaga tee shirt that rivals the cost of your shoes.  Of course he’d get away with hanging out in the store without being told off.)

“Excuse me.”  For once, he doesn’t sutter.  The lisp doesn’t present itself, either.  Was this the same Jungkook?  You’re not sure until you meet his stare - or try, his own skipping away the moment you make contact.

There he is.

“Yes, Jungkook?”  He flinches, as if he isn’t expecting you to know or say his name.  How can someone so big, so broad across the shoulders with a face that belongs on billboards, look like such a terrified rabbit?  It makes no sense to you.

“Can we talk?”  The stare he levels you with is unfair, too sweet and coaxing for you to even consider saying no.  You’ll still mess with him a bit though.

“We are talking.”

He sputters at that, hacks out a cough that makes you snicker openly.  It’s just so easy with him, like taking candy from a baby.  

“I mean like— talk talk.”  The set of his jaw gives away the whisper of frustration, the fleeting touch of exasperation that doesn’t allow itself to live anywhere else.  His eyes are still soft, round and glossy beneath the fluorescent storelight.  

“Sure, we can talk talk.”  

“Did you, um, want to grab dinner?”

You don’t mean to mock him (at least, not really) but he just makes everything so easy. You hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way.  “Are you asking me on a date?”  

“W-what?  No!”  Despite the immediacy of his response - the look of utter shock that cracks the careful facade - he’s burning bright, cheeks aflame with colour that licks up and over his ears.  “I just— I thought you’d want to talk somewhere else—”

“I’m kidding.  Let’s go.”

You move first, stepping past him and onto the elevator without a backwards glance.  He scampers after you, trails like a lost puppy in the wake of your shadow.  Even while you stand in the corner, waiting for the lift to meet the main floor, he keeps a careful distance, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.  

“So, what do you want to talk about?”  It seems you have to take the initiative, throwing him a curious stare as the floor number ticks down.  His gaze is trained on neon digits, unmoving.  You repeat yourself, glancing up at him, half-tempted to nudge him out of his reverie.  It’s almost like talking to a really hot brick wall.  “Jungkook?”

He tears out of his thoughts like a wayward bullet, head swivelling wildly.  “Huh?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  

“Um—”  He hesitates, not as if he doesn’t know the answer, but rather that he’s hesitant to speak it into existence.  There’s a tidal wave in the depth of his stare, a cresting wave that looks on the edge of breaking.  “—m-me?”

Brows furrow then amusement spills out.  “You want to talk about… you?”  

“That sounds bad.”  The shape of his grow prominent over his bottom lip, his mouth pulling and pursing with whatever maelstrom exists inside that pretty skull of his.  

“It’s fine.  We’ll talk at dinner.”  

He nods.  You think it means thank you.

Sitting across from each other in the Michelin-starred restaurant - a sought after spot that takes reservations weeks in advance - it’s easy to imagine Jungkook is just another guy.  Another bachelor with too much money and not enough sense, eager to sink his teeth into his next victim.  

It’s hilarious how far that is from the truth.

“What did you want to eat?”  He’s speaking into the pages of the leatherbound menu, half his face hidden.  Whether it’s a defense mechanism or just how he woos pretty girls, you’re not sure.  (You have a feeling it’s the former.)

“Whatever.”  Everything here is incredible.  You really don’t mind.

Jungkook’s face falls, folds in on itself like wet paper and you sigh a sound that further breaks apart the pillars keeping his composure in place.  His right cheek is hollowed, interior being shredded by enamel.  You take pity on him then, flipping open the menu with a great flourish. 

When the waitress - a lovely little thing whose gaze lingers on your dining partner for too long to just be polite - comes to take your order, you rattle off your usual order, doubling certain selections.  Soft-spoken as he might be, you have a feeling the size of his stomach makes up for all the mumbling and half-hearted glances.

“So?”  You level him with a stare over the rim of your glass, lavender and lemonade bursting across your tongue.  

He echoes you, wide-eyed and Bambi-like and stupidly cute.  “So?”  

“What did you want to talk about?”  If you’d had a worse day, if you were a lesser person, you might be irritated by having to repeat yourself so often.  As it stands, you’re only curious, your inquisitive nature outweighing your naturally short temper. 

“Oh.”  Poor boy looks like he’s been asked an impossible question, like what’s the meaning of life or the secret to eternal youth.  He fumbles with the edge of his sleeve, turns the plaid over and over in his fingers as if it were a puzzle.  You stare at him the whole time, unflinching, unrelenting.  He’d asked you here so you damn well expect an answer.

You’re about ready to repeat yourself - fourth time’s the charm? - when he finally finds his voice.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

It’s not the answer you’d expected.  It whacks you in the face, smacking your usual confidence out of place and shooting your carefully threaded eyebrows into your hairline.  “What?” 

He’s terribly uncomfortable, unhappy with being on the spot.  You watch the flicker of emotions through his face, the ones that creep into the delicate skin beneath his eyes, the wobble of his bottom lip.  Try as he might, he can’t keep the light from his eyes - twinkling stars that bloom like newly minted stars.

“Thank you.”  It’s just that much harder when he repeats himself, edges he builds with his bare hands and a clearing of his throat.

You’re silent for a long while - long enough for the first few plates to be set before you.  You gather up shredded radish and perfectly charred beef with your chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully on the morsel.  Jungkook doesn’t move - doesn’t even reach for his chopsticks - and simply stares at you.  You might find it off-putting if it were anyone but him.

You get through half the bowl of green beans, well on your way to finishing it, when he finally begins eating, deftly transferring little bites to his bowl.

The only sound is crunching - king oyster mushroom tempura, ice from your cocktail - and you’re pleasantly surprised to find it’s not uncomfortable.  A little different, sure, but altogether nice.  Like dining with an old friend.

You finally answer when half the plates are gone, another three laid out in their wake.  You’re careful not to speak with your mouth open - you notice Jungkook doesn’t either - and take a long sip of your water.  “You’re welcome, I guess.”  

Something tells you you’re always surprising him - whether intentionally or not.  His eyebrows have a tendency to shoot up, making him look even more shocked than he normally does.  (Seriously, how big are his eyes?)  You find that funny but don’t comment on it, opting to pop a silken piece of black cod into your mouth.  Your stare never falters, trained on his face as you chew thoughtfully.

“What?”  He’s had enough of your quiet observation, apples of his cheeks reminiscent of the tree in your parents’ backyard.  

“What?”  You parrot back, shameless, dark eyes twinkling at him.

“Y-you’re staring at me.”  

“You’re sitting in front of me.”

The line of his mouth hardens then, tongue rolling against his cheek in a gesture that stands out.  It’s the first glimpse of something rude, something not doe-eyed and innocent.  Oh?

“You don’t have to stare.”  Said with a speared piece of sashimi, the end of his chopsticks assaulting the poor piece of bluefin tuna like it has personally offended him.  

You reach for the same place, knock ornate wood against his, and quirk a brow when he meets your stare.  “Does it bother you, Mr. Jeon?”  The inflection is drawn out, almost mocking, only softened by the smile you offer.  

“That’s not my name.”  The bite disappears past his teeth.  You expect him to continue three chews later but he only goes for another, filling his plate and then his mouth.

“Sorry— Jungkook.  Does my staring bother you?”

It feels a little like playing with fire - holding your hand too close to a flickering flame, curious what it’ll do.  Juvenile in a way but enticing in another.  You’ve never met anyone quite like Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s rude,”  he reasons, glossy eyes meeting yours for perhaps the fifth time that evening.

“Maybe I’m just rude.”

He shakes his head then - dislodges untamed strands from behind his silver-lined ears - and sets his chopsticks down.  (Perfectly matched up, propped against the provided rest.)  “You’re not.”

You can’t keep the surprise away, the emotion threading through your brows to tie them into a little knot of consternation.  He says it so readily, as if he knows you and this isn’t one of a handful of very short, very unexpected conversations.  He’s not even looking away, meeting your stare with a confidence that surprises you.  

It lasts for all of five more seconds before he clears his throat and sips at his tea.  Anything to busy his hands, you think.

“You don’t know that,”  you finally return, after what seems like too long.

“I do.”  He nods - almost to himself - and continues, matter-of-fact.  “You care about people.  You’re… hard around the edges but you don’t mean to hurt anyone.  You want to do what’s right.  Sometimes it means you have to do things that aren’t easy.”

For once, you’re at a loss for words.  Really and truly silenced, unable to articulate anything that might beat back the kindness he’s offering.  

How the tables have turned.

He likes waffles with chocolate syrup rather than honey.  He doesn’t like whipped cream or citrus-flavoured desserts.  He has a tailor he’s gone to since he was a child, the same elderly woman he sometimes calls halmoni because she’s watched him grow up.  He decorates his apartment with the most random things:  limited edition KAWs figurines and the guitars he still hasn’t had the most practice with, one of a kind paintings from the gallery one of his best friends curates.  He buys the most expensive bottles of wine at any given restaurant not because his palate is so evolved it matters, but because it’s what he’s been taught to do.

He’s been in four serious relationships in his twenty-five years.  All of them have ended poorly, though his latest with Malibu Barbie is the first where he’d been cheated on.  (Somehow, you doubt that but you don’t voice this disbelief.)  He tends to lean towards long-term relationships with women who baby him (your words, not his).  He scoffs when you call him a serial monogamist, insists he isn’t even as you list out all the facts pointing otherwise.

“I just… don’t like wasting my time,”  he insists from behind his coffee cup.  

“You mean you don’t like the potential to be hurt.”  

Jungkook blinks at you then, Bambi eyes so big and bright you almost want to laugh.  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”  He seems confused - as if his reasoning is solid, irrefutable. 

“High risk, high reward, Jungkookie.”  It’s something your father had taught you years ago, the crazy old sap.  It’s probably why he’s had three divorces since you were seven years old, but you suppose it’s worked out for him now.  He’s been happily married for the last ten years - the longest relationship he’s ever had.  Youngin is good for him, though.  You like her - even if you sometimes wish she weren’t young enough to be your older sister and not his wife.

“You say that a lot.”

“I mean it when I say it.”

He’s quiet then, shoving a corner of his croissant past his lips.  When he speaks - starts to, anyway - his mouth is still full and you level him with a look that silences him until all traces of the pastry are gone.  “Girls are scary.”

You laugh.  Cackle, really.  You can’t help it.  He says it with a pout, the expression so utterly at odds with the offensively revealing shirt he wears, the smooth unblemished skin of his chest almost too much for such a quiet afternoon.  He glares at you across the table, shoves another piece of the flaky golden treat into his mouth, and waits for you to speak.  He knows you’re going to give him a piece of your mind because you always do, rebuffing 99% of the things he says.  (Sometimes for fun, often with good intentions.)

“Heights are scary.  Death is scary.  Leaving your wallet at home when you’re low on gas is scary—”

“Don’t you have Apple Pa—”

“Don’t interrupt.”  He clamps his lips shut, folding his arms across his chest.  From anyone else, it’d be a defensive gesture;  from him, it’s patient.  “Girls aren’t scary.  Having real feelings for people is scary, but that doesn’t mean you should just stay with people who don’t deserve you.” 

“Not all of us have cheater-sniffing noses.”  

You suppose he’s right but the fact still remains that he’s too nice for his own good.  Too trusting, too lenient, too blind to all the red flags.  Like he’s living life in greyscale. 

“Well, that’s what you have me for.”

The look Jungkook gives you then is incredulous, screwing his pretty face up as if he’s about to sneeze.  Instead, he laughs.  “I’m not hopeless.”

“Oh, but you are.”  You’re adamant, insistent.  He’s more comfortable with you now - sometimes teases you in a way you’d never have expected weeks ago - but he’s still so soft.  An absolute marshmallow dressed in designer duds, a heart of gold wrapped up in a bubble gum package.  

You want to protect him, teach him to fly.  Be his wingwoman until he’s soaring the skies on his own.  

You know it’s not his pride that keeps him from saying yes.  He doesn’t have an abundance of that, far too gracious to ever deny help when he really needs it.  He’s just shy, doesn’t know what he wants until it’s staring him right in the face.  

“Fine,”  he agrees after you’ve stared at him for too long.  It’s one of his weaknesses - his inability to handle attention when it’s laser-focused.  It makes him sweat, prompts his nervous habit of chewing at his bottom lip, long fingers picking at the peach fuzz on his cheeks.

“You won’t regret it.”

Jeon Jungkook has gone on six dates over the last ten days.  You know, because you’ve helped him pick out outfits for each of them, seated at the edge of his bed with your knees folded and a bag of white cheddar popcorn in your grubby little paws.

It’s not that he isn’t stylish - you both know he is - but there’s a certain finesse to dressing for dates, to knowing the likes and dislikes of your potential partner and playing to those.  

He, to no one's surprise, does not have this finesse.  If it were up to him, he’d wear his favourite clothes every day, different jeans and joggers in medium-wash denim and impossibly soft cotton.  He’d swap his Balenciaga separates in and out and stick with the finely tailored Gucci suit he calls his lucky ticket (ew).  He’d live in those stupid two-toned sneakers and barely do his hair, allowing it to become a powder puff reminiscent of old Hollywood movies.

The girls would probably still love it.  (It’s easy to love him.)

“What do you think?”  It’s low-cut black, relaxed in the shoulders and flattering in the torso.  It holds him just right, hugging the muscle that threads across his shoulders like armour, coils around his upper arms and makes his tattoos stand in stark relief where the sleeves end, mid-forearm. 

It looks good— but then again, a lot of things look good on him.  He wants great.

You answer honestly, because that’s what you do and that’s what he has you there for.  To knock him down when his (admittedly small) ego gets a little too big, remind him of his hubris like the summer sun upon his candle wax wings.  “Not bad…”

You don’t even need to finish the thought for him to be tugging the shirt over his head, back flexed, ink-strewn fingers gripping the hem.  

Not for the first time, you’re reminded of just how unfair life is. 

How had Jungkook - bona fide dork, certifiable shy guy - been gifted one of the best bodies in human existence?  (You wish you were joking.)  It was utterly absurd, a complete waste on someone who’d only learnt to utilise his good looks in the last five months you’d known him.  

“This one?”  He’s grabbing another hanger, all but thrusting it into your face.  Medium-weight cashmere.  Probably too hot for a night like tonight but you’ve seen it on him before and it hugs him like a lover, displaying his best assets (titties) and drawing attention to the narrow shape of his waist.  It’s the equivalent of a little black dress.

“Look at you go,”  you tease, mouth full of mirth and popcorn kernels.  “Throw that Juun.J trench you have overtop and you’ll be set.”

Jungkook nods sagely, as if your word is law.  You suppose it is.

“Thanks, ____,.”  He says it in that sweet way of his, eyes lost to the weight of his gratitude.  

Your response is a shrug.  “Bring me back some dessert and we’ll be even.”  You don’t know where he’s going tonight but you figure it’s one of the many restaurants you’d recommended earlier in the week when he’d started lining up his various dates.  You know there’ll be something good on the menu.  

He promises he will as he slides the turtleneck on, tucking it into the dark trousers he’d picked up days ago, and redoes the slim black Rag & Bone belt around his waist.  You have to admit - you’ve done another great job of styling him.  Simple yet painstakingly attractive, playing at all the little bits of Jungkook’s best qualities without outlining them in bright red ink.  Understated but elegant, effortless yet seriously hot.  

Maybe you should quit your day job and become the female Hitch.  That was a viable plan, right?

You’re mulling it over when you realise your walking Ken doll is making toward his bedroom door, wallet clasped in one hand and phone in the other.  “Hey!  You’re leaving already?”  It’s polite surprise that colours your words, stare drawn to the screen of your iPhone.  It’s only 6 PM and the reservation isn’t for another hour.

There’s a sheepish look creeping over his features, painting itself in delicate strokes that you spy past the line of his smile, how the skin crinkles around his eyes.  For a moment, he’s the shy Jungkook you’d met in your store and not the one that now bleeds careful confidence, filling his little black book (read: phone contacts) with names as easily as he breathes.  “I was, uh, going to stop and get f-flowers.”  A silver-lined hand scrubs across his nape, dislodges the carefully styled waves he’s settled for.

Flowers, huh?  Well, that’s certainly something new.  Good for him, you think. 

“Jeon Jungkook, going all out.”  It’s heavy on the teasing, playful mockery lending a warmth to your words.  “She’s special.”

Which you’d figured, given he was seeing her.  Repeats were rare for him now that he’d learned how to weed out the bad seeds, held his hand a little closer to his heart (at least, sometimes).  Since he’d started dating again, this would be the first time he’d be going on a second date.  It’s a big deal. 

“Yeah—“  Nervousness sparks across his face, lights up his stare like the stars in the night sky.  “I guess she is.”

You smile fondly, like a proud mother.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”  

“I will,”  he promises, looking so giddy it makes your heart swell ten sizes.  

You don’t even think anything of it as you follow him out of his room, bag of popcorn neatly rolled under your arm and your socks slid back into place.  It’s only when he levels you with a strange stare, pauses in the shrugging on of his coat, that you return his look.  “What?”

“Where are you going?”

“Leaving?”  

“Why?”

Wasn’t that the million dollar question?  

You don’t normally leave, usually waiting here at home for him until he returns to give you a rundown of his date (and the promised appetizer/dessert/whatever).  It feels somehow wrong to stay, though, as if you’re taking up space that doesn’t belong to you.  He’s going on a second date, after all.  Soon enough, he won’t need your help picking out clothes or deciding on a restaurant.  You won’t get to curl up on your usual corner of his sectional, wrapped up in the obnoxiously soft blanket you’d convinced him to buy one night while online shopping.

But it’s fine.  Totally, one hundred and ten percent fine.  The two of you are friends.  You’d always expected - anticipated, hoped - this day would come.  Baby boy was growing up. 

“Y’know.”  You answer a second too late and he’s still wearing that odd expression, handsome face flooded with something that looks like disappointment.  It flickers in the bits of his stare you can make out past his fringe, partially concealed by the dark silk that you know feels as soft as it looks.

“I know?”  He never tries to read your mind - knows it’s utterly useless.  

You wiggle your hand dismissively.  “Second date and all that.”  

Jungkook giggles - the same deceptively sweet sound he always makes - and finishes tugging his jacket on.  It fits him so well it should be illegal, falling to his knees and ending just shy of the intricate laces of his boots.  “Just stick around.  I’ll drive you home when I get back.”

It’s something he always does - his way of saying thank you for putting up with all of his first date jitters, his outfit changes, his worrying over how to first approach a girl on Tinder - so you don’t doubt him.  “Fine.  I’ll stay.”

He beams, caught halfway out the door.  “Tell me to break a leg.”

“Go break her back,”  you retort to the sound of his laughter.

You’re almost asleep when your phone starts going off, the vibrations jolting you awake.  It rattles across the glass table, won’t shut the hell up until you’re slamming your hand atop it, glaring at the screen as it lights up with notifications.

It’s almost 2 AM and they’re from Jungkook.  This can only mean one thing.

from jeon jungkook:  Hey. from jeon jungkook:  I’m really sorry but I won’t be home tonight. from jeon jungkook:  If you want to stay over, I can drive you back in the morning. from jeon jungkook:  Please don’t be mad.

Leave it to him to apologise for getting his dick wet - to feel bad about having a successful second date.  It makes you laugh as you stare down at the texts, tap a quick response you know will have his heart racing.  (Even after months of friendship, it’s hard not to tease him just a little bit.)

to jeon jungkook:  i officially hate you

The typing notification gives him away immediately, but the moment you do the same, he stops.  Of course.  He hates confrontation - would rather leap off a cliff-face than deal with negative emotions.  (He’d told you that once, over a night of beer and fried tteok.)

to jeon jungkook:  it’s fine!  have fun! to jeon jungkook:  turn her world upside down 😏

He doesn’t answer after that but the read receipt pops up.  Good, you think.  About time he finds someone nice.  You wonder what she’ll be like when you meet her.  

Jungkook’s third date comes with another third - you.

He drags you along to dinner, insisting there’s nothing at all weird about the fact.  He has to repeat it at least four times during the drive there, head nodding like a plastic bobblehead as he weaves in and out of traffic. 

“I want you to meet her,”  he mumbles, like that makes it better.  As if bringing a friend along to a date with that reasoning means it’s totally acceptable and not on the list of Hard No’s When Dating.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?”  He’s too focused on changing lanes to answer you, signalling before seamlessly drifting over.  (He’s an impressively responsible driver, but that’s unsurprising.)  You repeat yourself.

“It’s not… weird.”  But you have a feeling that he knows how odd the request is.  Knows and doesn’t care, unfortunately.  “She wants to meet you too.”

(When had Jungkook turned into this person who argued with you?)

You somehow highly doubt that.  No girl in her right mind would leap at the chance to meet her potential beau’s wingwoman.  It’s something reserved for official status, when the foundation is set.  Still, you play into his hand, level him with a stare he should recognise.  It’s the one you throw his way any time he’s too nice, gives a mile when he shouldn’t even offer an inch.  (It doesn’t come as often anymore, but it still makes appearances once in a while.)  

“What does she even know about me?”

“That we’re friends.”  His vague response speaks volumes.  The look changes - grows into a glare that has him furtively peeking at you from the corner of his periphery.  When he speaks, it feels like a dead giveaway.  “That I really value your opinion.”

You groan, a noise so loud it rattles around in the car and interrupts the ballad playing through the speakers.

“She’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or not!”  Of course.  It’s obvious.  She wants to know what she’s getting into it before things get too serious, determine if her Prince Charming is really all that.  (He is.)  “I’m not coming to dinner.”  

“You’re already in the car,”  he reasons.  

You note he doesn’t deny your first statement, mouth rounding into a pout that should crush your resolve.  Instead, it drives you mad, irritation bubbling in your throat.

“I just won’t go in.”

“____,.”  When he says it like that, it’s hard to deny him.  Jungkook might not utilise his charms often but when he does, it’s lethal.  Undeniable with those dumb Bambi eyes of his.

“No.”

“____,,”  he repeats, almost pleading.  You can’t look at him.  You won’t.  The moment you do, you’ll be sucked into the swirling vortex that makes up his stare - a million pretty little lights caught in the brown of his iris, so many possibilities you’d lose yourself trying to explore them all.

You last a whole ten seconds before his staring becomes too much, those round eyes tracking you in the rearview mirror until you’re relenting, softening in the way that only he can cause. 

“Fine.”  You hate how it sounds rolling off your tongue, terse and a little pissed off.  You’re not actually mad.  Just worried.  You’ve seen situations like this play out - not that you’ve been in this position before - but female friends and potential girlfriends just don’t go hand-in-hand.  It takes a very special kind of person to facilitate a meeting this early and you are not that person.  You’re ragged edges, uneven temperament, distrust that you can’t help.

Jungkook knows that.  Should, anyway.  You’ve grown close over the last nearly half a year.  

When he mumbles a quiet sorry, turns to rest his chin against his knuckles as he drives, you know he means it.  He’d never put you in this position if it didn’t mean a lot to him - if his own happiness wasn’t somehow also on the line.  (Truthfully, it’s your fault.  All that self-love encouragement was coming back to bite you in the ass.)

You grumble an obligatory acceptance as the streetlights fly by.  You’ve got a reputation to uphold. 

“You’re paying for my dinner.”

“Of course.”

How many times have you pictured this same situation, watched it unfold on your television screen as the protagonist gasps wildly, hand at their throat?  How many times have you laughed at the exchange, snickering into your palm as the romantic interest makes some wild declaration of love and wins the protagonist’s heart?

Answer:  you’ve lost count.

Still, it doesn’t prepare you to be thrust beneath the spotlight, half-dreaming and terribly confused.  

“What’re you doing here?”  At any other time, it might be as reproachful as you want, full of disapproval and sleepiness.  Here and now, it’s slurred speech and the lines of your pillow dug into the softness of your cheek, lashes dusted with sleep and breath freshly minted.

Jungkook’s oddly surprised, considering he’s appeared unannounced at your doorstep at the crack of dawn (not really).  “C-can I come in?”

You don’t budge.  It’s not because you’re about to say no, but because you’re still really tired.  So tired you stare at him for a moment too long, zoning out as you drink in his appearance.  He’s wearing the clothes from last night - the same animal-print silk shirt that hangs obscenely low and reveals too much skin.  You recognise it because you’d picked it out for his date.  

(The one where he was supposed to ask Jiwon to be his girlfriend, you fail to note.)  

You repeat yourself around a yawn, ignoring the way your vowels crash into each other and barely make it to the light of day.  “What’re you doing, Jungkookie?”

“Please let me in,”  the doe-eyed prince at your door mumbles, gaze bouncing somewhere beyond your shoulder, over your face, to the wayward strands that’re the result of sleeping too well.  Everywhere but your eyes.

“Fine,”  you huff, stepping back to allow him over the threshold.  You don’t miss the way he smells - his signature cologne and something else.  If you had to guess, it’s her perfume.  It’s distinctly floral, drawing you into a garden of roses.  You don’t know if you like it.

Without a second glance, you’re shuffling away from him, dragging your slippered feet into the kitchen.  

You move on autopilot, spooning coffee grounds into the Chemex filter.  You don’t bother asking whether your surprise guest wants any - assume he does, because the fiend somehow lives on caffeine - and settle against the counter as you wait for your kettle to whistle.

You’re still so tired you feel like you might fall asleep standing up but you think you do a good enough job of levelling Jungkook with a solid stare.  “So?”

“W-what?”  

It’s been so long since you’ve last heard his stutter that it surprises you, recentres your attention from your own exhaustion and has you frowning.  Something’s happened.  Must have.  There’s no other explanation for it - for how he looks at you, so uncertain like all those months ago when you’d smashed his glass house to pieces.

“What’s going on?”  You’re demanding, full to the brim with concern as you round on him.  He flinches away as if your words have burnt him, leaning into the stainless steel side of your fridge.  

(Silly Jungkook - that won’t protect you.)

“What do you mean?”

The early hour has, luckily, dampened your usual aggression.  He’s stalling, you can tell.  You hate when he does this.  You tell him as much, glowering at him as he tries to shrink his nearly six foot frame into something small.  “You’ve showed up at my house unannounced.  What do you mean ‘what do I mean’?”

He looks as if he’s on the brink of repeating himself, biting it back behind his neat white teeth when your expression grows darker, more frustrated.

It’s impossible to stay dressed in red, lethargy swathing you up like a cocoon and softening your edges.  You sigh heavily - perhaps a little overdramatically - and go about completing your coffee ritual.  Patience works best with Jungkook, you’ve learned.  (Though, he sorely tests your own sometimes.)

With a steaming mug in your hand and the other passed over to him, you gesture toward your living room.

He nods once - a small up and down of his head.  

“So.”  You try again, softer this time, warmed by the heat that permeates ceramic and settles your sleep-ravaged nerves.  You’re seated cross-legged on your couch, facing him with your back pressed to the arm rest.  He’s half-turned to you, coffee cup slotted between his thighs.  Feet turned in, mouth wobbling with the intensity of how hard he’s chewing into his bottom lip.

“I couldn’t do it.”  The words rush out too fast, tumble into each other in such a way you have to take a second to comprehend what he’s said.  Couldn’t do… it?

You stare at each other for a long while, you trying to understand and him refusing to meet your stare.  

When realisation dawns on you, you can only imagine how you look.  It must be terrifying by how Jungkook practically tries to crawl into the cushions of your couch, shoulders rising around his ears like a turtle.

“You didn’t ask her?”  It explodes out, a question that demands an answer. 

He’s staring past your head, unblinking.  You’d almost worry he was a robot if his voice weren’t so damned human, full of melancholy and rounded by his lisp.  “I c-couldn’t.  It was just…”  The shrug he offers is half-assed at best, not nearly good enough to excuse him.

“Just what?”  

“Just—”  There’s the wiggly hand gesture you do that he’s adopted, his ink-strewn hand waving through the air like a floppy chicken foot.  He thinks it’ll earn him a pass but your unrelenting glare indicates otherwise.  He deflates, hand falling back to his lap, clutching his mug like it's a makeshift security blanket.  “It didn’t feel right.”

What did that even mean?  Feel right?  

Love didn’t just appear, fully-formed and complete.  It took work and dedication and the understanding it could all come crashing down.  Didn’t he understand that?  Hadn’t you drilled that into his head?

You exhale through gritted teeth, push breath past enamel that acts like a solid steel gate.  

“Jungkook, it’s not going to just ‘feel right.’”  You’re air quoting, all tact thrown out the window.  “You like her, don’t you?”

You expect him to nod immediately.  He doesn’t. 

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” 

“You like her, right?”  

“I think so.”

You want to tear your own hair out.  Instead, you press the pads of your fingers into your temple - apply pressure in hopes of alleviating the tension that settles there.  “So, you like her.”  It feels a bit bad, condescending in a way;  you don’t mean it in any way but supportive.  You just want him to be happy.  “But you couldn’t ask her out because it didn’t feel right?”

“She’s not you.”  

He’s looking at you now, looks like he might have a heart attack if he does so any longer.  But he doesn’t tear his gaze away when you meet it, entire expression warped into something you don’t recognise.  Hope, maybe?  Fear?   

“What?”  You wish it were hard rather than feather light, almost lost to the cacophony in your head.

The hollow of his cheek is thrown into stark relief, the line of his jaw clenched tight.  He repeats himself even as you’re the one looking away, shaking your head as if that might will away the irksome answer.  (It won’t.)

“Don’t say things like that.”  

It’s hurt that flashes through his expression and strikes you right in the centre of your chest.  His face crumbles, brows knit together beneath his mop of shiny hair.  He looks so terribly sad - a kicked puppy, an abandoned deer.  Bambi, through and through.

“You asked why I didn’t do it,”  he reasons in a voice far more solid than he looks.

“I didn’t think you’d say something so ridiculous.”  It’s cruel.  “You’re making a bad choice.  You’re into this girl.  Don’t be dumb.”

His features rearrange, then so do his limbs, entire body lifting from his seat in jerky, disjointed movements.  “I’m not dumb.”  There’s a reproachful quality to his words, a distaste he doesn’t bother to mask.  It’s not something you’ve ever faced, surprising you enough to draw your eyes to his face.  

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you know.  

When he leaves - sets his cup in the sink and storms out the way he’d come before you have time to stop him - you wonder if you ever knew him at all.

“Okay.  Spill.”

Yejin’s tired of your abrasiveness, tired of having her head bitten off every time she tries to approach you with a question.  You can’t blame her.  You’ve felt like shit the last week, sleep-deprived and generally pissed off.  

All because of a doe-eyed idiot.  

“What?”  It’s less snark, more sigh.  You’re counting down the minutes until you’re free, until you can curl back up in your bed and try to sleep like you’ve done the last four days.  

“What’s going on with you?”  

“Nothing.”  

“Bullshit,”  she hums, trailing after you as you move behind the counter.  “You’ve been in a bad mood all week.  I’ve never seen you this upset like, ever.”  She’s right, of course.  You’ve always been very careful to keep business separate, pushing the customer service agenda no matter what.  “Did something happen?”  

You grit your teeth.  An expletive careens off your tongue when you slam the tip of your finger within the drawer you’d just shut.

“____,”  she tries again, concerned.  

“Nothing happened.”

“See, I don’t believe that because like, look at you!”  She gesticulates wildly, adorned wrists clinking loudly.  “You look like hell—”

“Thanks.”

“—and you’re being clumsy and like, I think I know you well enough.  So just tell me?”

You hate that she’s right.  It doesn’t mean you’ll relent, too caught up in your own strange brand of strength to unload.  (Maybe it’d be helpful.  Probably.  But you’ve never found comfort in other people.  At least, not like this.)

“Yejin.”  Her name stops her in her tracks, hurried and insistent as you pull your coat on.  “It’s fine.  Really.”  You’re swallowing your pride - practically choking on it - as you offer what you hope is a reassuring smile.  “I just need to get some sleep.”  And figure out what the hell to do about Jungkook, but that’s a can of worms you refuse to open and certainly not here.

Maybe at home, over a glass of wine, fueled by liquid courage.  

The bottle of Côtes du Rhône has aided you more than you’d hoped, offered an armour that slinks over your shoulders and drives your fingers to action.  It’s prompted something - started the ball rolling.

(Idly, you think that might not have been a very good idea, but it’s too late to care now.)

“You’re here.”  You being him and him being Jeon Jungkook, hair damp and imposing frame draped in an oversized sweater.  He looks terribly uncomfortable standing in your doorway - more so than he had days ago - hands shoved into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie, dumb sneakers pigeon-toed as if he’s ready to take flight.

“Y-you asked,”  he mutters, refusing to meet your stare.  At least, you think he’s refusing.  It’s a little hard to focus when there’s this fine film turning everything hazy, the bitter taste of wine heavy on your tongue.  

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy then, though he never quite meets your eyes.  It’s a smart tactic - level you with a look then immediately bounce it away.  It has you coming back for more, eager to refocus his fretful gaze until it’s locked with your own.

“Will you come in?”  You sidestep, give him enough space that he can enter without feeling suffocated.  He still hesitates, takes a second too long in deciding.  “I won’t bite.”

You don’t miss the better promise that comes under his breath.

“So.”  This feels oddly familiar, him backed into the corner of your couch again while you settle across from him.  He hums a noise but offers nothing further.  

This is how it’ll be then.  Fine.  If he wants to be this way.

“You like me.”

He sputters - doesn’t mean to, by how big his eyes go.  He hadn’t expected it to come barreling out of your mouth.  “I—  I don’t—  I didn’t say that.” 

If it were anyone but him, you’d take his reticence as rudeness.  

“Tell me why.”

The poor boy blinks, stares at you full on now.  Can’t look away, locked in the intensity of your stare.  

“W-what?”

“Tell me.”  You sip carefully at the liquid in your glass, swirl it ‘round and ‘round.  “You said that girl wasn’t me but you haven’t made a case as to why that matters.  What have I got that she doesn’t?”  

“You’re serious?”  

“As a heart attack, Jungkookie.”

The brunet swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion.  You think he might say no, outright refuse.  You don’t expect him to start rattling things off like the list lives in his head, answers printed against the darks of his eyelids.  

“You’re funny.  You’re honest.  You speak your mind.”  You don’t mean to scoff but his reasons are so shallow - so easily found in other people.  He must read the doubt in your expression, pushing on to cut you off from doing the same to him.  “Y-you care about people even when you pretend like you don’t.  You’re just as scared of being hurt as I am.”  

For the first time in a long time - in years and years - you feel seen.  As if he’s pulled back the cover of your unpublished draft, memorised the redlines and notes in the margins.  

“I don’t—”

“You have this face you make when you’re proud of me.”  He’s turning his own fingers over in his lap, knuckles white from the strain of locking them together and undoing them again.  “When I do something you approve of or when I make you laugh.”  

There’s something thick in your throat.  

“You make me want to try.”  He clears his own, speaks so softly you have to strain to hear it.  “Y-you make things not so scary.”  

It grows heavier, harder to breathe as you stare at the man sitting across from you.  He’s focused wholly on his hands, too caught up in his words to help the way he plucks at his skin, fiddles with the silver chain that loops around his wrist.

“You know what I need, even before I know myself.  You make me laugh.”  He laughs, an almost choked sound that fizzles and rattles bashfully. “You look really, really good in your work skirt.”  You know the one he means - all black, pencil-fit.  Makes your legs look a mile long, despite the fact that they aren’t.  

You can’t help but join him, a little breathless, with a strange sensation behind your ribs.  Like sunshine on a cold day, filtering past the walls you’ve put up, streaming through the windows that’d replaced drywall when Jungkook had waltzed into your life with his fluffy hair and boyish laugh.

When you speak, you don’t even believe your own words.  They come of their own accord - a defense mechanism.  “I can’t.”

As if he knows - as if he’s got a polygraph going, Jungkook shakes his head, meets your eyes and holds you there with the intensity of his attention.  “Can’t or won’t?”

“I—”

“I’m not asking for the world here.  Just a chance.”  He’s got a peculiar look on his face.  “Don’t you think you owe it to me?”

“Excuse me?” 

All of a sudden, he’s close.  Closer than you’d expect, far closer than he should be.  There’s nothing beyond his expression, the way his eyes twinkle under the dimmed apartment lights as he stares you down.  The scent of his cologne is cloying now, the fading nectarine hint of his shampoo making your mouth water.  

“You kind of ruined my life.  I think this makes us fair.”

You sputter, gasp, make sounds that careen off your tongue and fill the air with nonsense.  You’d ruined his life?  (You’d made it better - made him see the light, you thought.)  You’re working to find your voice, ready to tear into him for this abrupt accusation.

Then he’s giggling, nose scrunched and delight filtering past his teeth.  

“I’m kidding.”  

It feels like whiplash.  You’ve created a monster.  

“But you do owe me, I think.  So why not?”

You only have yourself to blame when you say yes, conceding to his pretty eyes and sweet smile.

Dating Jungkook is easy - as effortless as breathing.  He’s a bona fide dreamboat plucked from your wildest dreams. 

He texts when he says he will and picks you up every night, stamping a kiss to your cheek the moment you’ve clocked out.  He holds your hand and refuses to let go, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist when you’re tired or stressed or annoyed.  He brings flowers to every date - insists on them even when you tell him they’re a waste of money.  He knows your coffee order, has learned the art of the pour over when he wakes up before you.  

You understand now, why he’d stayed with women who were terrible for him (to him).  If you were them, you wouldn’t have let him go either.  Would lock him up in an old tower like your own personal Rapunzel.

(You say that because you’ve been on a Disney movie binge.  He is, unsurprisingly, very into these sorts of things.)

“Open it,”  he pleads, pushing the luxurious pink box towards you.

You stare down at the lid, the Agent Provocateur label glaring back at you.  You can’t help how you laugh, sound bouncing around his bedroom.  “Are you trying to tell me something, Jungkookie?”

Your lover - not boyfriend, because you haven’t had the talk and it’s still new and you’ve never been this careful before - rolls his eyes, pushes the box closer with a huff.  It’s adorable.  

“Just open it.”

You finger the soft bow strapped across the top, play with the neatly cut ends.  You can feel the impatience radiating off Jungkook, feel those pretty doe eyes boring holes into the top of your head.  You take your time even more now, unravelling the ribbon with slow, measured twists of your wrist.  

Whatever you’d expected to find nestled among the tissue paper, this isn’t it.  

You’d imagined he’d be into something feminine, all pristine white lace and scalloped cups.  Something he could brush his cheek against, run his fingers over.  

Tucked within the box is something that doesn’t even earn the title of lingerie, a few flimsy straps bonded together.  Blush pink satin and dressed with buckles, you turn it over in your hands, trying to make sense of the way it all connects.  Surely there’s more to this.  Surely, darling innocent Jeon Jungkook doesn’t expect you to wear just this?

“Do you like it?”  You can sense the eagerness in his voice, that desire he has to please that seems to never go away.  

“What is it?”

“It’s a playsuit.”  

“A playsuit?”  You’re no stranger to experimenting in the bedroom but this— this looks like it’s meant to harness a dog in.  Would it even fit?  Soft as it is, it seems terribly restrictive, made for someone with model proportions and no body fat at all.

He nods, round eyes so bright, so hopeful, you can’t voice your concerns.  “Will you wear it?”

It fits you better than you’d expected.  Or at least, you think it does.  If Jungkook’s reaction was any indication, it’s heaven sent - the perfect gift wrapping for a present he’s been dying to claim. 

The buckles you’d studied earlier - that had taken you too long to strap together - dig into the tender flesh of your hips, the shape of his fingers imprinted along the metal.  He grips you so tight you think you might bruise, left with a reminder of his love for weeks.

“S-so wet,”  he groans, sound dropping into an almost whine as the swollen mushroom head of his cock brushes through your folds.  The satin of the playsuit has been long since tugged aside, stained with your arousal as it cuts into the softness of your thighs.  He repeats the motion once, twice, coats your clit in pre-cum that leaks out of the slit and adds another layer of slick.  “So ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You nod dumbly, drool around the two fingers he’s got slotted against your cheek, ring finger pressed down over your tongue.  

“Use your words, gorgeous.”  As if you can, as if you’re not riding the high of your last orgasm and about to come apart beneath his playful teasing.

The palm of his hand meets your overstimulated clit with a sharp smack, the cold of his teeth bared against your neck.  He doesn’t like when you don’t answer - much prefers to make an effort even if it’s indiscernible.

“What did I say?”  

Something garbled comes, a plea as much as a sob.  Another hit lands, just shy of the pearl that throbs with need and pain, landing instead on the sensitive, already red skin of your inner thigh.  He soothes it this time around, massages your own wetness into the roses that bloom beneath his touch.

When he speaks again, it’s so utterly sweet, tender as can be.  The Jungkook you’ve known for months and not the devil in disguise.  

“You like this, don’t you?”  His kisses are searing, laced with reverence that feels at odds with the way he forces your gag reflex, taps his curved cock against your pussy.  “You like what I’m doing?”

“Y-yes,”  you cry, spit pooling past the sides of your mouth, dripping lewdly across your breasts.  The hand cradling your chin is all but drenched, dark ink thrown into stark relief by the way it slides over his skin.  Jungkook hums against your cheek, licks a fat stripe from shoulder to ear.  

“Good girl.”  Two fingers spread across over your heat, pointer and index sliding over your lips.  You’re spread obscenely - can see it in the mirror that rests against the far wall.  Can see how the head of his cock peeks between your thighs, runs the same path over and over with each languid, slow roll of his hips.  “Such a good girl for me.  My perfect girl.”

Your shoulders shake with the effort you put into nodding, throat clenching on reflex when the three fingers in your mouth flatten over your tongue, hold you steady in place.

“Pretty girl wants more, doesn’t she?  Wants me to fill her up?”

He’s teasing you, the bastard.  Dragging his aching erection against your cunt as you writhe against him, desperate.  It’s amusing to him - you can read the delight in the reflection, see it shining bright like a beacon when he pulls his hand away and recentres it across your chest.  Digits tease at the already pebbled buds, swollen and sensitive from how hard he’d sucked them into his mouth earlier.

“Say it.  Say you want me.”

You do, without hesitation, without fear.  You know he’ll catch you.  “I want you.”  

He sinks into you the same instant the words fall, holds you tight against him when your entire body begins buzzing and threatens to do the same.  Your walls feel like a vice grip around him, greedily sucking in his cock as he slams home, ruts into you like a wild animal.  

Strong as he is, he’s weak to the noises you make - the broken sobs that spill off your tongue and make up the prettiest sound he’s ever heard - and how you feel absolutely perfect, wet and warm.  The muscle in his thighs strain, pleasure vibrating up the notches of his spine, setting every nerve ending alight with its ascent.

“B-be mine,”  he returns, practically begging as he spreads you wide, making you take everything he has to offer.  Heart and soul and stupidly huge, perfect cock.

“I am.  I am.  I am,”  you chant, tears welling along your lash line.  They fall when his rhythm stutters, when the heat overwhelms and you’re coming for the third time that night, crying his name like it’s the only word you know.  

They continue to pour, carve trails down your reddened cheeks as you reach nirvana, wait for moment he’s right there with you.  It doesn’t take long - a few more punishing thrusts into your fluttering heat - and then he’s found his bliss, crying into the silk of your hair, spilling inside you. 

It doesn’t happen how you thought it would - a shy question poised over dinner, sealed with a sweet kiss on the way to the car - but it means just as much.  Breaks you apart as it rebuilds you, fills you up as it splits your seams.

You’re his and he’s always been yours. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle @shaybtsforever @we-found-wonderland-in-1989 @justanothergirlfromeurope @jalexad @bonnyskies @coffeeismylife28 @haeilove @purplespaceymermaid @sunsetsnsirens-blog @beingbeings​ @veronawrites​ @notmontae97​ @papillonsgf​ i’m really hoping i didn’t miss anyone e___e

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