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#everyone make sure u eat something for dinner pls

simplyjake · 3 months

Text

Valentines day w Enha Hyungs🫶

summary: what u and ur man do on ur first valentines day tgt<3

a/n: and fuck everyone who got a valentine. let me be a hater but i also had to pump this one out before the day ends for me

Heeseung

Oh hee, my sweet hee

HE WENT ALL OUT

Ofc he did its ur first valentines with each other as a couple

You guys used to do valentines as friends

Both single and lonely

But since he finally had the balls to ask u out you can now spend it in a relationship!

He actually got u a reservation to ur fav restaurant months in advance

Bc bro knew that the place does not PLAY w reservations

Its always so busy

So the fact that he did this in advance makes ur heart swell

You bought him his first bouquet of flowers

He sobbed.

Boys deserve their flowers too!

He cherishes the flowers and when they die

He does that thing where he presses dead flowers and shit

Then puts them in a frame above his bed

He got you flowers too with a teddy thats huge as fuck

You end the night with a celebratory minecraft session <3

Jay

Such a romantic ill cry

You were never much of a valentines day celebrator

You thought it was stupid (me too bff)

That was until you finally had ur person to do it with

Im a sucker for jay playing guitar so obviously

This man learns ur top 3 songs on guitar and plays it for you

You got him a bunch of custom guitar pics and those r all he uses btw

He gets u this big ass bouquet that came with a crown n shit

“Had to go all out for my princess”

SHUT UP

We know hes an excellent cook

So of course he cooked a 5 star home cooked meal for the both of you

W niki as ur server

He was promised robux if he did that btw

You got him tickets to see his fav band thats coming to town in a few days

He blew up

Sooo thankful for you

And to think this is only ur first valentines day?

Baby it only goes up from here!!

Jake

Our jakey poo

Hes the best at this shit lemme tell you

You woke up to home cooked breakfast in bed

So sweet of him awww

Hes had this day planned for a while

He saved up so that you can have a shopping spree

Ur literally in shock bc jake??? You did not have to do all that

A nice set of flowers and movie day in would settle

But not to him nuh uh

Dont worry you made sure you got ur gift in as well

You even got something for layla!!

When you mentioned that u got layla a gift too he almost got down on one knee i swear to god

After ur little spree you guys went out to eat for dinner

You begged him to let u pay

He alr spent so much today that you were gonna be upset if he didnt let you pay for this one thing

He reluctantly let u pay the bill

But he HAD to be the tipper

The day couldn't have gone any better

ALSOOOO

Posts u to “Valentine” by laufey

Sunghoon

Sunghoon is so cutie

He knew you were coming over soon so he set up his room with all of ur favorite things

Like ur fav drinks in the shape of a heart on his bead

Giant teddy bear sitting in the corner

Rose petals and even balloons everywhere

Do u guys know the tik tok audio

“Victor u actually did this” LMFAOOOOO

You'd recreate that video with him

“Baby are u srs”

“Hoon pls we’d go viral”

And u did btw

You guys would have a cute comfy day in

He'd rather save all the big gestures for ur birthday!

You two are a really lowk couple

He posted u for v day and people slide up like

“Wtf since when did u bag a hottie”

“YOURE DATING Y/N”

And he shows them to u giggling cus like

Hes the one who gets to show u off and be with you forever

#enhypen #enha #enha x reader #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #heeseung #jay park #park jongseong #jake sim #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #heeseung x reader #jay park x reader #jake sim x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader

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arminsumi · 11 months

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HIII , Can you do the #10 of nsfw with Armin? Btw I love how you write, you are really good and please don't stop😭😭

aw angel thank u!! 😙

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ NEEDY BOY MDNI

░ 🐬 Armin

Armin wants you all the time, everywhere, no matter what.

⚠️Cws; a big dose of SMUT bc i had too much to say 😩

Notes; AFAB!gn!reader, college au

⚠️💦Smut cws; sexting, public fucking, slight exhibitionism, 🐱playing/eating (from behind, standing), blowjob, tummy cumshot

░ 🍒 Sometimes during a class, you'll receive a steamy text from your boy. He might get impatient and send risky pics of his sweaty abs, or the outline of his cock, to get you riled up. "I'm in class." You text back, but he responds with "but i'm rlly hard :(". Needy boy doesn't let up until you help him get his relief. He happily lays on his back, stroking it to your texts, and cums all over those cute abs. "ok now class is over and i learned nothing 🙄" you text, and he responds excitedly with: "yay, can you come over? pls? 🥺i'm hard again"

░ 🍒 If you're out shopping with him, he'll pull you into a fitting room and as soon as the door shuts he has his eager hands on your body. "Just need to feel you, baby, I'll be quick... nahhh, it's fine, we won't get caught. Keep quiet for me, m'kay?" but of course, he says that and puts you in a position that he knows makes you more verbal.

░ 🍒 When your friends are over for a movie night, he'll sneak his dainty hands under the blanket you're sharing with him on the couch. He's a menace; he smirks when you squirm your hips under the influence of his rubbing fingertips. He doesn't stop there, he dives under your panties and plays with your clit, making a wet mess out of you right there on the couch while everyone's attention is glued to the movie.

░ 🍒 While cooking dinner, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. It's so cute and innocent, and you snuggle into his embrace. But of course, his hands glide down your waist in no time and squeeze at his favorite spots. This boy goes crazy for eating you out from behind. He gets on his knees and presses his face into your heat, soft hair tickling your skin and getting ruffled. You bet he's nasty, too, he spits and licks and makes such a mess out of your pussy that when he pulls away, he's got a streak of your juices across his cheek and lips. When you come down from a shaking orgasm, he stands and continues on like he didn't just go down on you in the kitchen. "C'mon, come to the bedroom lemme clean you up, pretty baby. Nooo! I'll just help clean you up, that's all, I swear!"

░ 🍒 Sometimes Armin pulls you into an empty classroom for a quickie against the wall 🤷‍♀️he. is. a. MENACE. I tell you. Don't worry about being too loud, he makes sure to keep a firm palm over your mouth. Oh, and he makes sure that you're looking into his eyes while he drives in and out of you, of course. His feverish pace makes you gush, which sounds loud and sinful in Levi's classroom. (Poor guy walks in and furrows his brows, sniffing suspiciously, while you and Armin are sat innocently at your desks)

░ 🍒 Um, you BET he begs for you to blow him off at parties. He gives you a pleading face, leans and whispers in your ear something that makes your eyes light up. Next thing your friends see is you and Armin escaping to the quiet upstairs. Now, if there's one thing that makes Armin verbal, it's having your lips wrapped around his dick. He absolutely loses it and calls out your name. "Shit, Y/n, love that fucking mouth. 'S perfect for sucking..." The sight of your head bobbing up and down on his length puts him into a hungered state. Expect to be absent from the party for at least two hours 🤷‍♀️

░ 🍒 Poor boy is so hungry for your pussy in the middle of the night, especially at four in the morning. He'll nag you until you wake up, and you immediately feel his boner poking your ass. "Needa fuck you, pretty please?" he asks so sweetly that you can't refuse. Of course, the only thing that's sweet about him while fucking is his pretty face. His dirty talk is nasty, that boy will throw around some wild shit while he's up in your guts. "Goddamn, feel that? Feel how that little pussy clings to my cock, baby? Mhm, 'bet you're gonna cum again. Nuh-uh, don't you fucking lie to me; I can feel you tightening. 'S gonna make me fucking – oh, fuck, m'cumming, come with me."

░ 🍒 Armin's libido is unbeatable. He's built up his stamina since dating you 💪But of course he can't last long if he's gone a few days without touching you, poor boy will bust so fast you that you have to tease him about it. "Missed me much?" you giggle when he shoots a fat load all over your tummy. "G-gimme a break, I haven't felt you in ages." he excuses. "Armin, it's been two days."

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pinkslashersimp · 2 years

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✨🌸aaaaahhh!!! I saw you wrote for harry!!!✨🌸

✨🌸If it's not any trouble could you do harry and Michael (whichever is fine!)✨🌸

✨🌸How would they react to a s/o who's short? Like she climbs on counters to reach things?✨🌸

✨🌸And to give them little head pats she stand on her tip toes?✨🌸

✨🌸I thought it was a pretty cute idea! Thank you!✨🌸

HELLO!! tysm yes i absolutely can write this for u i ahve been WAITING for someone to request harry i love him sm 💗💗💗

i’ll do both harry and michael since i have sm love for them 😭💗

also i’m so so sorry it’s taken such a ridiculously long time to reach your request! I’ve had so much on and had 0 time but thank god it’s all slowed down now, honestly tysm for ur patience it means the world to me

TW: Reader is a girl, OG Michael is an asshole, implication of violence but not rlly dw

if any of this triggers u pls pls scroll and keep urself safe🤍

Harry and Michael with a Short!S/O (not poly) 🌷💗

Harry Warden

If I’m being honest I don’t think Harry wouldn’t really notice your height so much at first

Oh you’re shorter than him? okay??? most chicks are...????

Honestly the dude pays 0 notice to it at first, hes so used to towering over people it doesn’t catches his attention

He does, however, enjoy when you kiss him before work and you have to lean up and place your hands on his shoulders;)

He really notices when you start climbing on shit

He came home one night after an excruciatingly long day of mining, wanting nothing more than to eat something warm and flop down on bed with you

“Where’s dinner?”

“I’m just- in the process of- making- hold on.” You struggle out, as you try to reach for the spices Harry had so cruelly placed on the top shelf. In exasperation, you climb onto the counter and reach up for them again

The whole time he’s stood in the doorway, mask off, staring at you completely bewildered

“D’you, uh, need help?”

Starts lifting you up to reach things because he’s worried one day you’ll fall when he’s not home and hurt yourself badly

Plus he just likes the feeling of being taller and stronger

OG Michael Myers

Absolutely notices and takes pride in it.

You’re shorter than him? Good.

Likes to deliberately annoy you by placing things you need as high up as he can, so he can watch you struggle to get them.

Bastard man

Sometimes just to be mean he’ll stand directly behind you as you try to reach for whatever item he put just out of your reach.

Y’know, just to let you wallow in the fact you’re so tiny.

And so you’ll ask him to grab it for you, which he does, with a very big smirk hidden under his mask

Very much enjoys grabbing your waist and leaning you into him whenever you stand on your tip toes to kiss or touch him

Is quite annoyed when you begin climbing on counters to grab your bag hes placed on the top shelf, or using the broom to slide it towards you

Why aren’t you relying on him?

Just a very mean man tbh

RZ Michael Myers

Notices, and absolutely does not give a shit.

The man is 6’9, everyone he meets is smaller than him and you make absolutely no difference.

Until one day he hears you yelling for him from the living room

Making his way downstairs, he takes note of your annoyed expression, and cocks his head to one side

You point up the the car keys and ask if he can please pass them to you because you’ll be late for work.

Which is when it clicks. He borrowed your car, and forgot you usually leave the keys by the side of the door, and he’s placed them all the way on top of the coat rack for some reason.

Gives you a little kiss as an apology and then waits for you to leave for work.

So he can place everything high on the shelves and playfully watch you suffer when you come back from home

Is more than amused to see you climbing on top of the furniture to grab your purse

Will always stand behind you though to make sure you fall into his arms rather than the cold hard floor

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pepperonijem · 1 year

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vii. a dream within a dream || all my love

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream ." - A Dream Within a Dream; Edgar Allan Poe

Summary: bucky barnes ocassionally lives out his dream of being a hallmark holiday movie protagonist. only on weekends. Pairing: Bucky Barnesx f!Reader Warnings: food mentions Word Count: 2.8k A/N: sorry for the random hiatus. it has been a very difficult last two weeks, with school, the passing of one of my favorite artists, and just general business of life... but here y'all goooo

previous chapter || back to library || next chapter

“Bucky,” Steve sighed in frustration. “You’ve missed the turn three times already. We’ve been circling this block for twenty minutes.”

“Steven, with all due respect, please shut up so I can see better.”

“I’ll shut up when you finally make the –” Steve was cut off by Bucky making a sharp left turn and he grabbed the handle above his window. “Oh my god, this isn’t Mario Kart, use your brakes.”

“Well I made the turn didn’t I?” Bucky huffed at Steve as he readjusted his wheel. Thankfully, the streets weren’t too busy at this time of night. Bucky glanced over at Steve who let out a chortle of disbelief.

“I guess that’s true,” he admitted.

“So why was everyone being so weird earlier?” Bucky asked, referring to the weird shift in events that occurred when he stopped at Scott’s house.

The question seemed to catch Steve off guard as he let out a surprised cough. “Weird? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about why Natasha seemed to be hauling your ass to the front door, and how Wanda suddenly got food poisoning less than half an hour after I called her,” Bucky said flatly, glancing over at Steve, who was staring outside of the window, pretending to be interested in the empty and clear night sky.

“Oh that? You know Wanda has IBS, she’s really sensitive about it,” Steve replied a little too quickly.

“Okay…” Bucky dragged out. He very well knew that Wanda did not have irritable bowel syndrome, having eaten many meals with her.

Steve turned back around to face him. “Why did you only ask Natasha and Wanda to go with you?” he asked in return.

Now it was Bucky who was caught off guard. “Well, they’re uh… they’re the most entertaining people to roadtrip with.” The words left his mouth a little too quickly and Steve responded with an unconvinced nod.

“Oh, I’m sure Sam would be happy to hear that,” Steve teased. Bucky rolled his eyes with a huff.

“What are you doing right now?” Bucky asked as he noticed Steve rummaging through the glove compartment of his car.

“Looking for snacks,” Steve replied, as if it was obvious. “I didn’t get a chance to eat dinner.” As if on cue, Bucky’s own stomach began to rumble. He hadn’t really had the chance to eat all day, choosing to spend all of his time planning this surprise rather than making meals. He was slightly annoyed, but saw that they managed to make up for some time and had a bit of lee-way before they needed to be at the airport.

Without looking down, he reached down and handed his phone to Steve. “Look for a fast-food place and we can grab something to eat.” Steve hummed in response, unlocking Bucky’s phone.

“Uh, Bucky,” Steve announced, looking up from the phone with a hint of panic. “You have a lot of missed messages and calls from your roomie.”

“Shit,” Bucky cursed under his breath. At the next stoplight, he grabbed his phone back to check the messages, and sure enough, there was a slew of notifications all from you.

neighbor 💩 (8:10 p.m.): jimothy where r u rn

neighbor💩 (8:10 p.m.): if you’re out can u pick up mcdonald’s pls, i’m craving chicken nuggets

neighbor💩 (8:13 p.m.): nvm, i think i actually want taco bell

neighbor💩 (8:15 p.m.): OR ACTUALLY, aren’t u hanging out with everyone tonight? Can u bring home some of the soup wanda makes? it’s the only thing keeping me sane rn

neighbor💩 (8:35 p.m.): Why is my dad calling and asking me where you are

neighbor💩 (8:37 p.m.): Why is Wanda saying you’re not at Scott’s house and that you and Steve are taking a roadtrip together

neighbor💩 (8:39 p.m.): if you are with Steve tell him to answer his phone before I find him and leave him stranded in the woods myself

(3) Missed calls from neighbor💩 8:40 p.m.

Neighbor 💩 (8:50 p.m.): James Barnes i swear to god… i can’t believe you didn’t tell me my dad’s coming in!!

Neighbor 💩 (8:51 p.m.): u better be driving safe… that’s precious cargo

Neighbor 💩 (8:52 p.m.): anyway i haven’t decided if i’m mad or happy that you planned this whole thing without telling me… find out on the next episode of Dragon Ball Z

“By any chance,” Steve started sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his own phone. “Is this supposed to be a surprise?”

“That’s correct,” Bucky confessed, setting his phone down as the light turned green once again. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Well, not anymore,” Steve said sheepishly.

Bucky looked at him, eyes wide with panic. “You told her?” He asked loudly.

Steve raised his hands in defense. “I didn’t know! You know I’m terrible with secrets,” he pouted.

Bucky took a deep breath, calming himself down. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s fine. It’s fine right?”

Steve nodded back. “It’ll be fine,” he echoed. “At least we’re almost there.”

After a half an hour, the boys finally arrived at the airport.

They were greeted by the familiar figure waiting at the curb with an excited smile and a friendly wave. As Bucky pulled the car into a stop, he took a deep breath before getting out of the car to help his guest load into the car.

“Bucky!” your dad exclaimed as he pulled him into a warm hug that Bucky wasn’t really expecting. “Nice to see you.” He peeked over Bucky’s shoulder to see Steve waving to him from the passenger’s seat.

“Steve, is that you?” He asked with a cheerful smile as Steve nodded sheepishly. He too received a hug through the window, before entering the car himself.

As they headed home, the three boys in the car found themselves in pleasant conversation as they caught up on life.

“How’s your application going, Steve?” Your father asked from the back seat.

Steve hesitated, looking out the window as he finally answered. “I uh, I sent it in last month. Just waiting to hear back from them.”

As if noticing a shift in Steve’s demeanor, he switched his focus to the boy in the driver’s seat. “What about you, Bucky? What are your plans for next year?”

Just like Steve, Bucky hesitated before answering. “I think I’m going into education,” he exclaimed, as if the words surprised him as well.

“Oh education?” Your dad hummed thoughtfully. “Your dad always thought you would go into engineering or something science-y. What made you decide on education?”

Bucky smiled as he replied. “A good talk with a good friend.” He didn’t miss the way Steve looked at him with an eyebrow raised, but decided not to mention it.

An hour later, Bucky pulled into the driveway and put his car in park. He hadn’t even opened his door before the back seat passenger door was being swung open and he heard your voice ring in his ear.

“Dad!” you called, pulling him out of the car and into a warm embrace. As Steve and Bucky got out of the car you immediately latched on to both of them as well, surprising Bucky. Maybe hugging runs in the family? He thought.

“Bucky,” you said firmly, now pulling away from him. Your eyebrows were furrowed together and your eyes looked glassy and— were you mad?

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m— I thought it would be a cool surprise and I—”

“Why are you apologizing?” You asked incredulously. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Now you had wrapped him into another hug, but Bucky let himself relax, relieved that you weren’t pissed off at him.

Before he could say anything else, you had already moved on to Steve, joking with him about how he sucks at keeping a secret, and inviting him to stay just a little bit longer before heading home. Steve nodded sheepishly, even after seeing the 11:57 p.m. blare at him from his phone screen as he checked the time.

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, thinking to himself that it was weird for him to find your mix of emotions and giddy excitement so endearing. However, he found himself still leaning against the car, in awe that he managed to pull this surprise off. Part of him felt like the protagonist of a Hallmark Christmas movie, moving heaven and earth for the girl he lo–

Bucky let out a cough, not letting himself finish the thought.

As he watched you drag Steve into the house, Bucky found himself alone with your dad who was still gathering the last of his things from the trunk.

“Oh, let me get that for you,” Bucky insisted as he grabbed one of the bags.

Your dad thanked him as he shut the trunk, turning to face Bucky but making no effort to move toward the door of the house.

“Bucky,” he called, his voice much softer than it was at the airport. “I’m guessing she’s the ‘good friend?’” he pat Bucky on the shoulder as he nodded sheepishly, looking down at the ground.

“Let me give you some advice, kiddo. Don’t think too much, life is so much better when you don’t.” With that, he also made his way inside, leaving Bucky alone in the icy chill of the night.

What did he mean by that? Bucky thought. I think a healthy amount, no more and no less, in fact, if I wanted to stop thinking right now I could. See? I did it. For a whole 5 seconds I stopped thinking. Or maybe he—

“Penny for your thoughts?” Bucky’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice. You walked over to where he was leaning against the hood of the car, looking into the night sky.

“I’m not really thinking about anything,” Bucky shook his head. “At least, nothing important.”

He looked down as you handed him a blanket.

“Well if you’re gonna sit here and think about nothing important, you should at least stay warm,” He unraveled the blanket, placing one side around his shoulders and extending his arm as an invitation.

“Join me for a bit?” Bucky surprised himself as he asked the question, and had to resist the urge to tense up when you shifted closer and allowed him to wrap the other side of the blanket around your shoulder.

Thankfully, the silence that followed was peaceful, and when you broke it with a quiet voice, he found himself leaning closer to hear you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” He asked, giving you a gentle nudge, inviting you to speak up.

“For everything,” you answered. “For every late night study session, for bringing me back tea and croissants when you go to the cafe, for bringing my dad here. I feel like you’ve done so much for me, and I’ve just been kind of… a parasite since the beginning.”

Bucky felt his heart lurch at your words. A parasite? How could you think of yourself that way?

Your father’s words echoed in his head once again. Stop thinking so much, he told himself.

So he turned to you, and told you exactly how he felt. “You’re not a parasite, you’re a catalyst.”

You scoffed out a laugh, playfully punching him on the shoulder. “What does that mean?”

Bucky rubbed his arm, pretending to be in pain as you rolled your eyes at him. “It means,” he began. “That the moment you walked through that door, everything changed.”

“For the better, I hope,” you added.

“Well, for reference, I was finally invited to one of Tony’s exclusive karaoke parties. He said I’m a lot more fun these days. I even sang a song.”

You raised your eyebrow at him in curiosity. “Oh? What song?”

He shook his head, refusing to tell you, until you poked his side and he all but fell. “Dancing Queen by ABBA,” he admitted in embarrassment. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing, I didn’t laugh,” you said with your lips pursed tightly together, trying hard to fight a chuckle. “What did you score?”

“100.”

“No way.”

Bucky nodded sheepishly as you finally let out your laughter.

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” you relented with a nod. “The Bucky I met in August would have vomited at the thought. I guess I may have rubbed off on you a little.”

“See? This is a symbiotic relationship.” Bucky chuckled, playfully punching your shoulder.

“Alright, alright,” you relented, pulling the blanket off yourself and turning to extend your hand to Bucky. “Now let’s head inside so we don’t freeze.”

A cozy meal and a few board games later, the clock read 4 a.m. and everyone was starting to lose it. Your dad had turned in two hours ago, after the first round of Monopoly ended with you claiming total domination and Steve and Bucky going bankrupt. After you begged your father to stay up, he promised he would only take a nap and that he’d be up by seven a.m. to get breakfast with you.

Still full of energy from the day’s excitement, you forced Steve and Bucky to stay up with you to play a round of Catan, only for you to be falling asleep halfway through it.

“Steve,” Bucky groaned sleepily as he lazily dropped the dice out of his hands. “Make us more coffee–”

He was cut off by Steve slapping his hand over his mouth. “Shhh.” Bucky sat up and slapped his hand away. “She’s finally knocked out.”

Sure enough, your soft snores were coming from the couch as you lay there peacefully, giving Bucky and Steve time to finally escape. Steve got up first, trying his best to move silently.

“I’m gonna make a cup of coffee before I head out,” Steve whispered to Bucky who nodded.

As Steve headed to the kitchen, he tried to stand up carefully from his spot on the floor in front of the couch you were on. He didn’t make it very far before he heard you call out to Bucky.

“Stay?” your voice came out with the softest puff of air, and he wondered if he imagined it.

If Bucky had any more self control, he would have walked away.

But when you reached your hand out in search of his, how could he bring himself to leave?

So instead he knelt back down beside you and decided that once again, he would stop thinking and let himself be in the moment. And in that moment, he was well aware of how his heart hammered against his chest and how his lips were quirked into a smile. Have you always been cute, or was the lack of sleep finally getting to him? Chalking it up to his sleepy deliriousness, he allowed himself to be just a little reckless.

He looked down at where your hand was still in his, and with his free hand reached up to brush a hair out of your face, his hand freezing when he felt your hand twitch in his. Your face grimaced just a little bit at the disturbance and he finally let out a breath when it settled back into a look of peace.

“Sleep well,” he whispered out before giving your hand one final squeeze as he pulled away, taking note of how cold his hands suddenly felt. He balled his hand into a fist and quickly opened it again, aware of all the blood rushing back into his fingertips.

As he stood to drape a blanket over your sleeping figure, he noticed Steve had returned from the kitchen.

“She’s out,” Bucky informed Steve who nodded back absent-mindedly, not quite looking at him. “Do you want a ride back to Scott’s?”

“Hmm?” Steve hummed before finally turning to Bucky. “Oh, no it’s fine, it’s a short walk and the weather is nice tonight.”

“You sure?” Bucky asked with his hands in his pockets, stifling a yawn.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded back with a small smile. “The coffee woke me up.”

Bucky relented and walked Steve to the door before finally making his way into his own bed. Against his better judgment, he found himself replaying the few minutes you sat outside with him, looking at the stars.

He let out a sigh, reaching for the book that rested on his side table, Pride and Prejudice, untouched since the day he read it at the cafe. However, he did not grab the book itself, but rather the bookmark that kept his page – a pink envelope still sealed, addressed to him.

Maybe one day I’ll open it, he thought to himself. But not today.

And with that, Bucky slipped into a deep slumber.

Maybe I’ll dream of you.

#Bucky Barnes #Sebastian Stan #Bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan headcanon #sebastian stan x reader #James Buchanan Barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut

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ahoge-fish · 2 years

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Hello :3

Hope ur doing ok over there (i know we interacted not so long ago but im still asking)

I have a few questions that i been wondering for a while one about carlos (god i hope i got the bbys name right) and the other about alex (pls feel free to answer one if u want)

Ok first for our lil new member in the kujo family (part 4 i mean):

So i know that carlos got very attached to alex and became instant bond with Jolyne but im curious about jotaro how was the lil boy with him at first? Was he shy around him? Was he intimidated by him?

Second: What are alex's favorite and least favorite food? Does she have any alergies?

Sorry for the long ask! Also dont feel forced to answer if u dont wish too i know ur taking a break so i dont wish to bother u!

Thank u for ur time and patience!

HIII! :D It's always good to ask that, but yes luckily I'm still good and I hope you too! 💖💖💖

Oh I'll surely answer your questions, because I LOVE asks like this!! And thank YOU for asking them, you're not bothering me at all 😌 You're so sweet tho, thank you for your kindness💖💖💖

Also whoopsies the boy's name not Carlos but Luis, don't worry about that tho! You should see me when I try to remember some characters names, I totally go the opposite way HAHAHAHAHAH But anyway! Here you go the answers ;)

How did Luis react to Jotaro?

When they first found him at the old house, Luis felt safe enough to hug Alexandra, as Jotaro was inspecting his father's dead body in the other room. When they took him at the SPW, Luis only talked to Alexandra, not because everyone else was being rude to him, but because she was the one to first calm him down, and so he felt more at ease with her.

Did Jotaro try to talk to him while he was still at the SPW? Yes, he tried. He grew up from being the rebel teenage boy to the educated man that he was at that moment. But as we all know he still has a very intimidating aura, with his cold face and always frowned eyebrows. So you can imagine how a child that just got out from the situation that he was could've react.

He was not scared of him to the point of screaming, he simply kept his mouth shut and didn't even look at him. Jotato however tried to talk to him with the most gentle tone of voice that he could've do, getting nothing in return.

Jotaro was not mad or upset about it, he knows that he doesn't look like the frendliest guy at first sight. But things started to preoccupie him when him and Alex decided to adopt little Luis.

The little boy walked away from the room where the man was, when they had breakfast/lunch/dinner he always seated at the opposide sit from Jotaro, when Luis and Jolyne had to go to school and Jotaro took them there with his car, Luis stayed silent the whole ride (and if Jolyne seated in the back seats with him, he always hugged her arm).

Alexandra and Jolyne noticed it, and they talked about that with Luis too, but he just didn't feel comfortable with the scary man.

So, what did Jotaro do to gain his trust? Something that if someone reminded to him, he would've punched them straight in the face (jk, but almost)

That was obviously Alexandra's idea, and Jotaro being desperate just accepted to do it. So one day, to make Luis understand that Jotaro is a gentle giant, they both made him and Jolyne wait in a room. And when they opened the door, the children immediately bursted into a loud laugh.

Their parents where both wearing a dolphin costume, making especially Jotaro more ridiculous. But did he do it only for his new child to trust him? Yes. During the entire evening they all played together and even shared some facts about dolphins.

In the end it was worth it, because Luis started to feel more at ease with his father.

What are Alex favourite food and least favourite?

Alexandra would eat anything comestible that she has in front of her eyes, but the dish that she fell in love with is "gnocchi al pesto".

The earliest memory that she has is her grandma giving her a big plate of gnocchi with pesto, and she digged in it because she just enjoyed it very much. From that moment, she always asked her mother if she could've do only gnocchi with pesto, at which Isabella laughed but made that dish very often.

Her father Michael, always being the pIECE OF SHIT THAT HE IS- always has to ruin any joy that Alex has :) So because one evening he got mad at Isabella for making the same dish, and because "Alex gained weight and become more ugly that she already was", she stopped doing it for a long period of time. Alexandra understood the situation, so she didn't ask for that dish anymore.

And one dish that she hates? It's not because she doesn't like the taste, but because it was Michael's favourite. It is miso soup, a dish that always brings Alex the memories of her father, that's why she hates it.

Does she have any alergies?

She is allergic to kiwi. She discovered it one day she was at Jotaro's house, and Holly had some fruits to give to the young friends.

She started to feel her throat getting tighter and tighter, until it was visible that it was swollen and red. The two friends didn't know what to do, since they were only 11 at the time and that Holly went out to buy some food for dinner, so they both rushed to Alexandra's house.

Luckily there was only Isabella, that immediately brought Alexandra to the ER. Jotaro went with them and was very nervous, but Isabella calmed him down telling him that she was alright and that they came just in time.

Later Alexandra was indeed alright and she was diagnosed with an allergy for kiwi.

Jotaro for a period of time was very paranoid with this, and so made sure that even the most obvious foods didn't have kiwi in them.

#•🐠 answers•#jotaro kujo #alexandra parker #luis kujo #jjba #jjba oc

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birbfeeder2artisticboogaloo · 1 year

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thousand autumns donghua, episode 7~

things are not looking great for shen qiao. first he's betrayed by his shidi, then he's accosted by this old man who wants to bang him, now he's left his old sect behind... rip bby 😔 the old man is enjoying his sorry state a bit TOO much lol WHAT HOW DID HE MAKE THAT FLOWER EXPLODE??? HOLY SHIT HE MADE PETALS INTO A FLOWER AND THEN BROKE IT??? THATS SO COOL??? oh uhhhh there's something about a ring, good and evil, and clearing out mt xuandu or sth idk *shrug* yws: A-QIAO I HEARD U HAVE THAT GAY THOUGHT. SHARE IT A-QIAO. SHARE UR GAY THOUGHTS WITH ME. >:) now the old man and shen qiao are on a date. let's see if shen qiao will be allowed to drink without coughing or eat without fighting anyone :D damn nicholas cage is LOOSE in the jianghu, i can't believe he's just going round taking ppl's faces…….off ;A; ITS HARD TO CONCENTRATE WHEN SO MANY PPL TALK AT ONCE, AND THE SUBTITLES SHOW ME THE DIALOGUE FOR BOTH. PLS ....aaaaaand it's no dinner for shen qiao. AGAIN. smh 😩 oh god he's being a menace again. the old man, not nicholas cage. although nicholas cage also being a menace too somewhere out there is certainly possible, idk yws: oh?? ur gonna go ''''practise'''' alone in ur room??? when u could ''''practise'''' with ME instead???? >;DDD shen qiao: u are being kind of annoying :/ a lot of yws's dialogue are just hums of varying tones to express varying amounts of disdain and horny. i respect that shen qiao constantly being dismissed bc of his appearance is both frustrating and hilarious. esp when he gets the chance to LAY THE SMACKDOWN on his bullies 💪😤 WOO FIGHT SCENE! HELL YEAH! GO SHEN QIAO!!! SHOW THAT XIAOZI WHAT'S UP!!! oh!! he apologised! what a nice young man, he learnt a lesson! good for him! i take back what i said, ur not a brat 😊 DAMN RIGHT BEING NICE IS NOT BEING A PUSHOVER. THANK U FOR SAYING SO!! LISTEN TO SHEN QIAO, HE'S CORRECT!! gasp!! it's MY SON!! YU SHENGYAN!!! (see i remembered his name this time. all on my own. i'm LEARNING y'all) oh my gOD THAT FREAK WANTS HIS FACE!! LET GO OF MY SON'S FACE U MONSTER!! huo xijing: here is ur friend's face lol. i did u a favour, can i have urs too?? lol yws: ONLY I MAY KILL YU SHENGYAN AND PEEL OFF HIS FA--did u just. did u just call me old WHY IS EVERYONE OBSESSED WITH HOW HOT SHEN QIAO IS??? i mean they're right BUT THEY ALL KEEP TALKING ABOUT IT, IT'S SO STRANGE???? hxj: ooh a pretty boy, i'll take his face instead! :D sq: no :/ oh jesus who's this now?? too many new friends at once, im overwhelmed, im so confused ;A; AH!! yuan xiuxiu!! she's a LADY SECT LEADER??? i didn't know they had those!!! oh but the poor thing hasn't even got any shoes, how sad smh 😔 somebody fetch her a pair of slippers or something, this is so sad omg 😔 yxx: tee hee, im seductive and pretty~ yws: back off, tart, im gay >:( awww shen qiao wants to avenge that poor tortured lass ;A; he's such a good man, i really like him a lot ;A; i love how huo xijing is willing to literally peel faces off of human skulls, but the SECONDsomebody had him at a disadvantage, it's 'uuuuwww shen-laoshi, have mercyyy on meeeee uwu' GOT EM!!! GOOD ONE SHEN QIAO!!! U SHOWED HIM SHEN QIAO!!! 💪😤 yxx: how dare u kill my pet murderer??! *attacks the sick man* yws: BACK OFF BITCH, HE'S MINE D:< AWW HE'S HE'S MAKING SURE SHEN QIAO IS OK??? THAT'S SO CUTE????? the old man doesn't know it yet, but he's totally gonna fall in love for real and he's gonna be MISERABLE and im gonna laugh SO HARD >:D i look forward to ur suffering, yan wushi!! 😄

#im sso sleemby u lot ;A;#but i wanted to watch at least one episode tonight since i had to do Tasks during the day ;A;#it was my lil treat hee hee <3 #birb watches #if these get too unfunny i can stop but u have to cry A LOT or else i won't believe it #OBVIOUSLY im the funniest guy i know ;D #thousand autumns donghua #qian qiu #birb still says

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aezuria · 2 days

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*ੈ✎ two lovers entwined, pass me by

"and heaven knows i'm miserable now" —the smiths

content: leo valdez x roman! reader

╰┈▸ back cover: what if leo gets a little too tired of being the seventh wheel, wait- ninth wheel? (and meets a girl who is a d1 hater)

╰┈▸ warnings: leo and yn dont hate hate couples its a joke okay (unless its not a joke anymore pls give them love-) cursing, maybe ooc reyna? NOT canon compliant, a bit of angst but overall its silly

librarian's annotations: this is now my fav work if u guys dont like it then dont tell me pls 😣

leo was tired. sick and tired of everyone's public displays of affection! can they at least have the decency to romance each other in the privacy of their own rooms!? he did not build ten of them for no reason! there was absolutely no way they needed to suck face at the dining table. like, right in front of his food!?

okay, he was being a bit dramatic. the most everyone was willing to do in public was hold hands. and maybe share a kiss. but that was a kiss too much! and wasn't reyna supposed to off doing (cool) praetor shit!? ever since her and jason made up, leo has not been able to catch a break! can they stop eyefucking each other already!? (they are simply staring into one another's eyes)

"guys." leo swept his gaze over the dining table. he was seated at the end, giving him an unwarranted view of everyone paired up. apparently, love is also deaf, since no one turned their head to him.

"guys!" leo raised his voice. would he be heard over the sound of their unspoken conversations? heads finally spun to look at him, as if they just remembered he was there.

"can you guys like, eat? or do this-" he gestured widely. "elsewhere? and by elsewhere i mean not in front of me."

they all managed to give him the exact same look that was a mix of embarrassment at being called out, and something that said "poor leo, he's so single!" oh come on! jason made it even worse by putting a—what was supposed to be—comforting hand on his arm. "it's okay, leo. i'm sure you'll find someone one day."

this was not funny at all. and leo would know; he's the funniest guy ever! he snatched his arm away with an utterly aghast expression. "ew! get your pity off of me!" he shuddered, playing up the theatrics and wiped his forearm over jason, giving him his couple-cooties back.

the blond reeled back, laughing at his best friend's antics. "what was that for!?"

"don't act like you don't know!" he sneered accusingly.

nights were always the worst for leo. they were quiet, and not the calm, peaceful quiet when he would stay out and watch the sun set, the time before his happiness came to an end. it was an empty quiet, devoid of the laughter he caused, his thoughts become louder to fill up the silence.

(it was night when his mother died, when he had burned down the warehouse. when he had killed her. it was night when he awoke to the front door slamming, the sounds of drunken yells and glass splintering were backing instruments in an interlude of impending misery as he waits for the sun to shine once again. it was night when he ran away, with nothing more than his heavy heart and some left over change.)

leo's thoughts ran rampant with the feelings he kept in a glass box. always there, always seen, very fragile yet rarely opened. sometimes he would shake it a little too hard, and it would come crashing down like a bottle of alcohol, spilling insecurities instead of wine.

tonight was one of those times.

he doesn't know what brought it on. well, he lied; it was the sight of everyone at dinner, looking happy and complete without him. but he was used to it. it shouldn't have bothered him this much. but the more he let it stew, the more it hurt. leo loved his friends, sure, but he couldn't help but have a little bit of resentment at how easy it was for them to make up, make out. hell, even piper got a girlfriend, a mortal one at that! between traveling and fighting monsters, he didn't even know that was possible. what about him was so unlovable?

as he tossed and turned to shake off the voices in his head, he knew that this would be another sleepless night.

today was going to be a good day; leo could feel it in his gut. the skies were clear, there were no monsters coming to wake them up, and the engine was running smoothly. he had time to work on his little projects all day today! he hummed a tune as he walked to the engine room, or his work room for today, and spun a wrench in his hand. maybe he had a little skip to his saunter, a pep in his step. something about today was just so-

his gut lied to him. (maybe he was hungry?) the wrench clattered to the ground as he came to an abrupt stop. "oh. my. gods." leo paused between every word to further emphasize his disdain.

the sight was scandalous, completely and irrevocably scandalous. like, i-need-to-wash-my-brain-out scandalous. and leo was so not being dramatic this time.

percy and annabeth flinched away from each other in a half-asleep fumble, trying to act as if they had not just been caressing each other's bodies mere moments ago. (okay, maybe he was being dramatic again) this wasn't even a romantic place to do that! and leo would know, he's such a romantic guy. what was the purpose of his hard work of making bedrooms if they were just going to sneak off and desecrate his beloved engine room!?

"frank catching you two once wasn't enough?" leo huffed and bent down to pick up his dropped tool. "now i have to see the two of you fraternizing in my domain!?"

"that's not even the proper word-" annabeth had tried to hold back, but the urge to correct him was too much.

"i don't care! shoo!"

leo was so done. his perfect day had been ruined first thing in the morning! now it was late, he was tired, and he was finally heading back to his room to get some much needed rest after holing himself up all day working on random knick-knacks. a soft noise caught his attention. it was dim, the lights low since him and annabeth wanted to save electricity. he felt the familiar dread in his stomach. there was absolutely no way this could be happening.

"we shouldn't do this here..." wait, was that reyna?

"i know.. but i'm gonna miss you when you leave." no. no. NO. the direction the two very very familiar voices were coming from was right in front of the hallway to his bedroom. "please?"

leo was torn. he didn't want to walk in on them, but he couldn't spend another night in the engine room! he wanted his comfy bed right now!

he slapped a hand over his eyes and stepped heavily on the wooden floorboards, giving them a much needed warning. he heard the sound of fabric and shuffling, a satisfied smirk gracing his face.

"are you guys decent?" leo asked, still squeezing his eyes shut under his hand.

jason huffed, no doubt red in the face. "it's not like we weren't in the first place."

leo dared to open his eyes, finding that not only was his face red, but there were bruises starting to dapple his neck. ew. he did not want to think about how that came to be. "uh huh. well go and canoodle somewhere not in front of my room, please and thank you."

"canoodle?"

"reyna i told you, i don't wanna go!" you grumbled akin to a toddler, despite your status as the centurion of the first cohort. you took off your armor, dropping it to the ground haphazardly. "i don't need to see you and mister perfect canoodling in front of me!"

the praetor snorted and shook her head. "'canoodling?' you're the second person i've heard use that word this week." she paused, a thoughtful expression passing over her face. "you guys would get along well, i think. anyways, i'm not asking as a friend, i'm ordering you as praetor."

oh that was so unbelievably low! "what!? reynaa!" you stretched out the end of her name in an embarrassingly childish whine. good thing it was just the two of you here, otherwise no one would let you live it down. "i thought they were supposed to be going soon anyway!?"

"you heard me. and no, they're staying for a couple more nights. something about the engine being broken again?" she shrugged, an amused glimmer breaking through her usually serious front. "besides, we have a lot to discuss about the whole gaea thing, and who better to bring than you? you're my right hand woman."

you tried to hide a smile at her words, but sweet-talk always won you over. "ugh, fine. i guess i'll go."

something was up. you knew that from the moment she asked you to "wear something other than purple for once." who even owned anything but purple!? heck, you didn't even know reyna had different clothes outside of uniform! was that even allowed? you'd only ever seen her wear the same shirt as you, and a toga if the event accounted for it.

you sifted through your wardrobe, digging through masses of violet and coming up blank. oh well, guess its uniform time again. not that you minded all that much.

"you are changing." reyna shook her head, giving you a disappointed look only a mother could offer. this wasn't even a big deal! what was so wrong with your shirt? you rather liked purple!

"but why!? what better way to represent rome than this?" you gestured to your clothing. "aren't we talking business? also this is like the only shirt i have."

"because-"

"you just wanna look all pretty for your boyfriend." you cut her off, faking a gag. "doesn't mean i have to look pretty."

her shoulders tensed and you drew back, already anticipating her near-fatal blow.

"reyna? you know i was just kidding- OW!"

"-wait this is so my color actually." you checked yourself in her mirror. who knew reyna had fashion sense? although not much was required for a simple shirt and jeans.

she nodded and got to her feet. "suits you well. consider it my apology."

"huh? apology for what? for hitting me? aww you're so-"

"no. for what's about to happen to you." a solemn expression took over her face. she was well aware of your exaggerated hatred for couples. maybe you were just a bitter single, but she wasn't about to tell you that. she hoped you would soon be taken (not literally) and stop harassing her for her romantic escapades.

that was ominous. should you be scared for your life? "what the hell does that even mean?"

oh. now you knew exactly what it meant. as the two of you boarded the argo ii, she was immediately swept into a bone-crushing hug by jason, as if he couldn't bear to let her go ever again. you almost threw up at the sight. how could your beloved best friend be reduced to a lovesick schoolgirl at the touch of a man!? a man that had forgotten her! (and remembered, and apologized, and confessed his love- okay, you were starting to see her side quite clearly)

you turned your head away entirely, not wanting to see all that. but everywhere you looked, a new couple seemed to pop up. it was like your worst nightmare come to life. percy and annabeth? piper and some girl? frank and hazel? holding hands? since when were they a thing!? sweet hazel and shy frank? they were—admittedly—adorable, but still!

your only respite was leo looking just as exasperated as you. he must have it way worse; he had to live here with all of them. you shuddered. you were glad you weren't in his place right now.

you stood awkwardly to the side as they reunited. do they do this all the time? and everyone's just cool with it? maybe they can relate, with their taken-ness and all. ugh.

leo peeked at you curiously from the corner of his eye. your expression was as clear as day, face scrunched up in disdain as he traced your gaze to the practically infinite amount of couples onboard. he nodded internally, knowing exactly how you were feeling. but hey, he couldn't just let a pretty girl like you stay unhappy on his ship, not if he could help it!

"hey there," leo said smoothly, or as smooth as he could be after he had almost tripped on the crack between the floorboards. "i'm leo."

finally! someone had the decency to entertain you. "i know you! you're the guy that made octavian throw a hissy fit for firing at new rome!" shit, was that a weird thing to say for a first time interaction? too late now.

the brunette cringed at the mention of his possession. "uh, that's not what most people know me by, but yeah..?"

"oh? and what do most people know you by?" consider yourself intrigued.

leo perked up at your question, having been given an amazing opportunity to charm you. "well obviously it's my rugged good looks, and ingenious inventions, and-"

"we're starting dinner now!" jason called out from the dining table, before recieving an elbow to the gut from reyna and a harsh whisper from piper.

you were lost in your thoughts, zoning out as everyone spoke around you. leo's actually kinda... a tiny part of you popped the idea into your head. he was kinda, indeed. gods, i hate couples. a much larger portion of your mind seemed to yell. do you, or do you just hate being single? you asked yourself. huh. well it's probably-

a cough to your left caught your attention. it was leo. when his brown eyes met yours, you couldn't see a trace of that same boy who was described a traitor and a freak for firing at new rome. maybe something really did possess him.

"wanna know how i built this ship?" he asked excitedly. it was clear that the argo ii was his pride and joy.

"yeah!" you grinned, his cheerfulness rubbing off on you. who cares if he fired on new rome anymore? that was so last tuesday.

"so first, i had this cool metal dragon..."

unbeknownst to you, annabeth whispered across the table to reyna. "i think it's working?"

so, the dinner wasn't anything about business. you did learn a ton from leo though! that was business enough wasn't it? still, you couldn't help the pang of guilt that came with not getting anything work-related done. it was practically in your genes as a roman.

"y/n! you should stay the night!" hazel encouraged from the sofa across you. she was met with choruses of yeahs! and you shoulds! by the other girls, including reyna.

"oh!" you laughed awkwardly, trying to think of a way to politely turn them down. as much as you would love to stay and get to know them, you had a job to do. even if that job was getting all the legionnaires in your cohort to bed by curfew. (like seriously, the amount of times you've had to reel in couples you caught sneaking out was crazy. maybe that's where your hatred came from.) "i'd love to, but i have... centurion duties and all that."

"but reyna has praetor duties and she's staying," annabeth argued. her gray eyes shone with an intensity you only saw on the battlefield. what was going on?

that was new information to you. "you're staying?" you questioned your friend, who looked away with a hint of embarrassment.

"jason's leaving soon," she coughed. after being apart for so long, you could hardly blame her for wanting a little more time with him. "but that's besides the point. you should stay."

you crossed your arms, trying to come up with another excuse. "uh, i don't have clothes to change into?" it was a weak attempt, but you hoped it would work.

"i can lend you some," hazel piped up from the side, obviously eager to make you stay.

aw. she was always so nice. but you had a feeling there was an underlying motive you just couldn't figure out.

you tried again. "i don't think there's a spare room for me to sleep in."

"there's an empty one by leo," piper pointed out.

well, that was it. they refuted all your claims and left you no choice but to stay. you heaved a sigh and relented. "fine."

you weren't sure how it happened, but you ended up with leo again. so much for girls night. but you couldn't complain, leo was good company. he never let the silence stew between you guys for too long, always switching between one topic to the next, until somehow, you were both talking shit about your pathetic love lives and the insufferable ones of those around you.

"you wouldn't believe how many times i've caught these people! i swear, they can never keep it in their pants for more than two seconds! it's like, trauma at this point!" you rolled your eyes, absolutely abhorring the new legionnaires in your cohort.

leo laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. he looked over his shoulder, before leaning in as if telling you a secret. "like two days ago, i caught jason and reyna making out! he had hickies all over his neck!"

you gasped at the scandalous behavior of the two most serious people you knew. "what!? no way..."

the curly-haired boy nodded vehemently. "yes way! it was so gross."

eventually, it was time for the both of you to say your goodnights. leo led you to your room, giving you a cheeky wink before he retreated into his own. you shut the door, and threw yourself into bed.

maybe it was the unfamiliar environment, maybe it was the fact that you were way up in the air, or maybe it was leo running circles around your mind. whatever the reason was, you couldn't sleep. or maybe you chose not to, just to have an excuse to see the stars. the time when they were out was the only time you'd allow yourself a break.

you crept out of the room, careful not to make noise as you made your way out onto the deck. the air was crisp, a gentle bite against your skin. it seemed that the god of the sky was on your side tonight, for the clouds were nowhere to be seen, only the full moon of artemis and the familiar stars shone. you made yourself comfy on the floor, leaning back against the railing as you took a deep breath.

it would be another night of no sleep for leo, that much he could tell. he groaned into his pillow. he couldn't tell if it was the new crush already forming on you, or his angst from a few days before. regardless, his nervous energy made him get up and pace the room, fidgeting with a screw he found on the floor. with footsteps light, he traveled the small area, before something told him to get some fresh air. he obliged. it was better than being in his stuffy room.

as he went up the stairs to the upper level, he caught sight of a figure in the distance. leo's curiosity spiked. he walked closer, the image of you coming into view. your eyes locked on his, a soft smile gracing your face at seeing him. "hey."

"hey." leo dipped his head in greeting, and sat down beside you. "mind if i sit here?"

you shook your head and returned your gaze to the starry night sky, a comfortable silence settling between you two, with only the tapping of leo's fingers against the floor filling the air. it was different, being alone with him. he seemed different. he was quieter, more mellow.

"i hate nights." leo blurted out, breaking the peace you two had shared.

"really?" you asked softly. he braced himself with the condescending remark that was sure to come after, but it never came. instead he received a genuine interest from you. "why's that?"

the boy felt his heart beat a little faster. was he really going to tell you, a girl he barely knew, his whole life story? perhaps it was the late hour that made him want to spill everything out. or the feeling that stirred whenever he looked at you, like magnets attracting. and so he did.

and you listened without any interruption, never followed up with that remark he was waiting for, never gave him the pity he hated. instead, you followed up with your own story.

"i love nights. for me, it's the only time i really feel free. when everyone else is asleep, and it's just you and the stars. away from all the rules." you looked up. they seemed so close from here, way up in the floating ship. they twinkled like glitter, flashing heys and hellos and nice to see you agains. it was beautiful.

leo admired you the way you did the stars. they reflected off your eyes and made your irises shine, the same way fire casted a diffused glow on everything around it. maybe nights weren't so bad after all, if every one of them would be spent with you.

and when you leaned against him to rest your head on his shoulder, whispering secrets into his ear? oh, caligula would have blushed. (leo knows he sure did)

"operation get leo a girlfriend, complete!"

"i thought we were calling it operation get y/n a boyfriend?"

"whatever. operation leoy/n is a success!"

"...you know we can hear you guys, right?"

#*ੈ✎ stories #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo hoo toa

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pepperonidk · 1 year

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vii. a dream within a dream || all my love

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream ." - A Dream Within a Dream; Edgar Allan Poe

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoox f!Reader Summary: jeon wonwoo ocassionally lives out his dream of being a hallmark holiday movie protagonist. only on weekends. Warnings: food mentions Word Count: 2.8k A/N: sometimes i think about the original plans i had for this story and i realize just how far i am from that original plan... haha this was gonna be a bucky barnes fanfic... imagine... if you ask me about my original plans i will think you're 1000% cool. ALSO I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE LATE POST. I'M BACK BABEY.

take a look at my pinned post to see how to join the aml taglist!

previous chapter || back to library || next chapter

“Wonwoo,” Mingyu sighed in frustration. “You’ve missed the freaking turn three times already. We’ve been circling this block for twenty minutes.”

“Mingyu, with all due respect, please shut up so I can see better.”

“I’ll shut up when you finally make the –” Mingyu was cut off by Wonwoo making a sharp left turn and he grabbed the handle above his window. “Oh my god, this isn’t Mario Kart, use your brakes.”

“Well I made the turn didn’t I?” Wonwoo huffed at Mingyu as he readjusted his wheel. Thankfully, the streets weren’t too busy at this time of night. Wonwoo glanced over at Mingyu who let out a chortle of disbelief.

“I guess that’s true,” he admitted.

“So why was everyone being so weird earlier?�� Wonwoo asked, referring to the weird shift in events that occurred when he stopped at Joshua’s house.

The question seemed to catch Mingyu off guard as he let out a surprised cough. “Weird? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about why Seungkwan seemed to be hauling your ass to the front door, and how Seokmin suddenly got food poisoning less than half an hour after I called him,” Wonwoo said flatly, glancing over at Mingyu, who was staring outside of the window, pretending to be interested in the empty and clear night sky.

“Oh that? You know Seokmin has IBS, he’s really sensitive about it,” Mingyu replied a little too quickly.

“Okay…” Wonwoo dragged out. He very well knew that Seokmin did not have irritable bowel syndrome, having eaten many meals with him.

Mingyu turned back around to face him. “Why did you only ask Seungkwan and Seokmin to go with you?” he asked in return.

Now it was Wonwoo who was caught off guard. “Well, they’re uh… they’re the most entertaining people to roadtrip with.” The words left his mouth a little too quickly and Mingyu responded with an unconvinced nod.

“Oh, I’m sure Soonyoung would be happy to hear that,” Mingyu teased. Wonwoo rolled his eyes with a huff.

“What are you doing right now?” Wonwoo asked as he noticed Mingyu rummaging through the glove compartment of his car.

“Looking for snacks,” Mingyu replied, as if it was obvious. “I didn’t get a chance to eat dinner.” As if on cue, Wonwoo’s own stomach began to rumble. He hadn’t really had the chance to eat all day, choosing to spend all of his time planning this surprise rather than making meals. He was slightly annoyed, but saw that they managed to make up for some time and had a bit of lee-way before they needed to be at the airport.

Without looking down, he reached down and handed his phone to Mingyu. “Look for a fast-food place and we can grab something to eat.” Mingyu hummed in response, unlocking Wonwoo’s phone.

“Uh, Wonwoo,,” Mingyu announced, looking up from the phone with a hint of panic. “You have a lot of missed messages and calls from your roomie.”

“Shit,” Wonwoo cursed under his breath. At the next stoplight, he grabbed his phone back to check the messages, and sure enough, there was a slew of notifications all from you.

neighbor 💩 (8:10 p.m.): wonu where r u rn

neighbor💩 (8:10 p.m.): if you’re out can u pick up mcdonald’s pls, i’m craving chicken nuggets

neighbor💩 (8:13 p.m.): nvm, i think i actually want taco bell

neighbor💩 (8:15 p.m.): OR ACTUALLY, isn’t it guy’s night? Can u bring home some of the soup jun makes? it’s the only thing keeping me sane rn

neighbor💩 (8:35 p.m.): Why is my dad calling and asking me where you are

neighbor💩 (8:37 p.m.): Why is Seokmin saying you’re not at Joshua’s house and that you and Mingyu are taking a roadtrip together

neighbor💩 (8:39 p.m.): if you are with Mingyu tell him to answer his phone before I find him and leave him stranded in the woods myself

(3) Missed calls from neighbor💩 8:40 p.m.

Neighbor 💩 (8:50 p.m.): wonwoo i swear to god… i can’t believe you didn’t tell me my dad’s coming in!!

Neighbor 💩 (8:51 p.m.): u better be driving safe… that’s precious cargo

Neighbor 💩 (8:52 p.m.): anyway i haven’t decided if i’m mad or happy that you planned this whole thing without telling me… find out on the next episode of Dragon Ball Z

“By any chance,” Mingyu started sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his own phone. “Is this supposed to be a surprise?”

“That’s correct,” Wonwoo confessed, setting his phone down as the light turned green once again. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Well, not anymore,” Mingyu said sheepishly.

Wonwoo looked at him, eyes wide with panic. “You told her?” He asked loudly.

Mingyu raised his hands in defense. “I didn’t know! You know I’m terrible with secrets,” he pouted.

Wonwoo took a deep breath, calming himself down. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s fine. It’s fine right?”

Mingyu nodded back. “It’ll be fine,” he echoed. “At least we’re almost there.”

After a half an hour, the boys finally arrived at the airport.

They were greeted by the familiar figure waiting at the curb with an excited smile and a friendly wave. As Wonwoo pulled the car into a stop, he took a deep breath before getting out of the car to help his guest load into the car.

“Wonwoo!” your dad exclaimed as he pulled him into a warm hug that Wonwoo wasn’t really expecting. “Nice to see you.” He peeked over Wonwoo’s shoulder to see Mingyu waving to him from the passenger’s seat.

“Mingyu, is that you?” He asked with a cheerful smile as Mingyu nodded sheepishly. He too received a hug through the window, before entering the car himself.

As they headed home, the three boys in the car found themselves in pleasant conversation as they caught up on life.

“How’s your application going, Mingyu?” Your father asked from the back seat.

Mingyu hesitated, looking out the window as he finally answered. “I uh, I sent it in last month. Just waiting to hear back from them.”

As if noticing a shift in Mingyu’s demeanor, he switched his focus to the boy in the driver’s seat. “What about you, Wonwoo? What are your plans for next year?”

Just like Mingyu, Wonwoo hesitated before answering. “I think I’m going into education,” he exclaimed, as if the words surprised him as well.

“Oh education?” Your dad hummed thoughtfully. “Your dad always thought you would go into engineering or something science-y. What made you decide on education?”

Wonwoo smiled as he replied. “A good talk with a good friend.” He didn’t miss the way Mingyu looked at him with an eyebrow raised, but decided not to mention it.

An hour later, Wonwoo pulled into the driveway and put his car in park. He hadn’t even opened his door before the back seat passenger door was being swung open and he heard your voice ring in his ear.

“Dad!” you called, pulling him out of the car and into a warm embrace. As Mingyu and Wonwoo got out of the car you immediately latched on to both of them as well, surprising Wonwoo. Maybe hugging runs in the family? He thought.

“Wonwoo,” you said firmly, now pulling away from him. Your eyebrows were furrowed together and your eyes looked glassy and— were you mad?

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m— I thought it would be a cool surprise and I—”

“Why are you apologizing?” You asked incredulously. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Now you had wrapped him into another hug, but Wonwoo let himself relax, relieved that you weren’t pissed off at him.

Before he could say anything else, you had already moved on to Mingyu, joking with him about how he sucks at keeping a secret, and inviting him to stay just a little bit longer before heading home. Mingyu nodded sheepishly, even after seeing the 11:57 p.m. blare at him from his phone screen as he checked the time.

Wonwoo bit the inside of his cheek, thinking to himself that it was weird for him to find your mix of emotions and giddy excitement so endearing. However, he found himself still leaning against the car, in awe that he managed to pull this surprise off. Part of him felt like the protagonist of a Hallmark Christmas movie, moving heaven and earth for the girl he lo–

Wonwoo let out a cough, not letting himself finish the thought.

As he watched you drag Mingyu into the house, Wonwoo found himself alone with your dad who was still gathering the last of his things from the trunk.

“Oh, let me get that for you,” Wonwoo insisted as he grabbed one of the bags.

Your dad thanked him as he shut the trunk, turning to face Wonwoo but making no effort to move toward the door of the house.

“Wonwoo,” he called, his voice much softer than it was at the airport. “I’m guessing she’s the ‘good friend?’” he pat Wonwoo on the shoulder as he nodded sheepishly, looking down at the ground.

“Let me give you some advice, kiddo. Don’t think too much, life is so much better when you don’t.” With that, he also made his way inside, leaving Wonwoo alone in the icy chill of the night.

What did he mean by that? Wonwoo thought. I think a healthy amount, no more and no less, in fact, if I wanted to stop thinking right now I could. See? I did it. For a whole 5 seconds I stopped thinking. Or maybe he—

“Penny for your thoughts?” Wonwoo’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice. You walked over to where he was leaning against the hood of the car, looking into the night sky.

“I’m not really thinking about anything,” Wonwoo shook his head. “At least, nothing important.”

He looked down as you handed him a blanket.

“Join me for a bit?” Wonwoo surprised himself as he asked the question, and had to resist the urge to tense up when you shifted closer and allowed him to wrap the other side of the blanket around your shoulder.

Thankfully, the silence that followed was peaceful, and when you broke it with a quiet voice, he found himself leaning closer to hear you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” He asked, giving you a gentle nudge, inviting you to speak up.

Wonwoo felt his heart lurch at your words. A parasite? How could you think of yourself that way?

Your father’s words echoed in his head once again. Stop thinking so much, he told himself.

So he turned to you, and told you exactly how he felt. “You’re not a parasite, you’re a catalyst.”

You scoffed out a laugh, playfully punching him on the shoulder. “What does that mean?”

Wonwoo rubbed his arm, pretending to be in pain as you rolled your eyes at him. “It means,” he began. “That the moment you walked through that door, everything changed.”

“For the better, I hope,” you added.

“Well, for reference, I was finally invited to one of Seungkwan’s exclusive karaoke parties. He said I’m a lot more fun these days. I even sang a song.”

You raised your eyebrow at him in curiosity. “Oh? What song?”

He shook his head, refusing to tell you, until you poked his side and he all but fell. “I am the Best by 2NE1,” he admitted in embarrassment. “Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing, I didn’t laugh,” you said with your lips pursed tightly together, trying hard to fight a chuckle. “What did you score?”

“100.”

“No way.”

Wonwoo nodded sheepishly as you finally let out your laughter.

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” you relented. “The Wonwoo I met in August would have vomited at the thought. I guess I may have rubbed off on you a little.”

“See? This is a symbiotic relationship.” Wonwoo chuckled.

“Alright, alright,” you relented, pulling the blanket off yourself and turning to extend your hand to Wonwoo. “Now let’s head inside so we don’t freeze.”

A cozy meal and a few board games later, the clock read 4 a.m. and everyone was starting to lose it. Your dad had turned in two hours ago, after the first round of Monopoly ended with you claiming total domination and Mingyu and Wonwoo going bankrupt. After you begged your father to stay up, he promised he would only take a nap and that he’d be up by seven a.m. to get breakfast with you.

Still full of energy from the day’s excitement, you forced Mingyu and Wonwoo to stay up with you to play a round of Catan, only for you to be falling asleep halfway through it.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo groaned sleepily as he lazily dropped the dice out of his hands. “Make us more coffee–”

He was cut off by Mingyu slapping his hand over his mouth. “Shhh.” Wonwoo sat up and slapped his hand away. “She’s finally knocked out.”

Sure enough, your soft snores were coming from the couch as you lay there peacefully, giving Wonwoo and Mingyu time to finally escape. Mingyu got up first, trying his best to move silently.

“I’m gonna make a cup of coffee before I head out,” Mingyu whispered to Wonwoo who nodded.

As Mingyu headed to the kitchen, Wonwoo tried to stand up carefully from his spot on the floor in front of the couch you were on. He didn’t make it very far before he heard you.

“Stay?” your voice came out with the softest puff of air, and he wondered if he imagined it.

If Wonwoo had any more self control, he would have walked away.

But when you reached your hand out in search of his, how could he bring himself to leave?

As he stood to drape a blanket over your sleeping figure, he noticed Mingyu had returned from the kitchen.

“She’s out,” Wonwoo informed Mingyu who nodded back absent-mindedly, not quite looking at him. “Do you want a ride back to Joshua’s?”

“Hmm?” Mingyu hummed before finally turning to Wonwoo. “Oh, no it’s fine, it’s a short walk and the weather is nice tonight.”

“You sure?” Wonwoo asked with his hands in his pockets, stifling a yawn.

“Yeah,” Mingyu nodded back with a small smile. “The coffee woke me up.”

Wonwoo relented and walked Mingyu to the door before finally making his way into his own bed. Against his better judgment, he found himself replaying the few minutes you sat outside with him, looking at the stars.

Maybe one day I’ll open it, he thought to himself. But not today.

And with that, Wonwoo slipped into a deep slumber.

Maybe I’ll dream of you.

taglist: @mariechan123 @jwwonu @spidersohn @nvmbheart @yksthings @sdoulc @starryjww @sherizaraiyah @comerollwithme @pastel-andme @mingyublues @leahel @nichoswag @freakyfriedrice @pusangmamon @dekusgirl @hokuuu @xxluckydreamsxx @noraehey @dreams-in-different-colours @bunniparadise @dazedhxze @thedeeppoet @wonuziex @inlovewith-yeosang @tfmingyu @hanniesrock @ilymarkchan @royal9 @may1996s @hqstimpy @dnylwoo @dobbyflwr @awyunh @calvinkleinhoon @kei-is-simping @travelleratheart101

#Wonwoo seventeen #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo angst #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo imagines #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #wonwoo x yn #wonwoo x reader #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo

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atsubaka · 2 years

Text

what the hq boys would cook for their s/o

w osamu, kita, akaashi, ushijima, sugawara, yaku, tsukishima, iwaizumi, oikawa, and sakusa

nav || taglist: open

pov: you're me, looking at these pics at 11pm while your fridge's empty :(

SUGAWARA

he'd make you these small and simple bento boxes every morning for school after he found out you had a tendency to skip meals 🥺💖 the bento may be simple, but you can tell the effort was definitely there because he'd taken the time to add these cute decorations in hopes of making you smile :) also, he'll write you a small note which is always tucked in the corner of the box. it's the little things like this that remind you of how much suga cares.

IWAIZUMI

iwa definitely bought you guys matching bento boxes. you guys take turns making the lunches, but when it's his turning cooking, he'll make sure to weigh and track everything he cooks to make sure your bodies are getting the sufficient amount of nutrients. he works out often, so he'll also mind the calories and encourage you to cut down on the carbs. but that doesn't mean he starves you though! ya'll will have designated cheat days... but after, he makes you do extra sit ups 💀 (he just wants you to be healthy so you can be together for a long time <3)

KITA

bby grew up with his grandma, so ofc he makes you her favourite recipe whenever you'd come over. imagine feeling stressed and sad the entire day, and kita invites you over to his place to cook for you 🥺🥺 he'd say that whenever he was feeling under the weather, his grandma would make him some nice food and it'd always make him feel so much better after eating her cooking, so he wanted to do the same for you. it's safe to say, that you were crying while eating because of how good it is.

AKAASHI

we all know how thoughtful, sweet, and perceptive akaashi is. so let's say you causally mention wanting to try this one particular food you happen to see on social media, but couldn't find any restaurants near you that sells them. lover boy surprises you a few days later by giving you said food during lunch. akaashi would have his elbow propped up on the desk with his face leaning on his hand as he watches you happily gobble up his cooking. there's nothing this man won't do for u 💗

SAKUSA

you and sakusa go to different schools, so none of your classmates know that you're seeing someone. when your boyfriend heard about how popular you are among the male population at your school, sakusa knew what needed to be done. he understood the assignment it was a regular monday morning, and you heard a loud commotion coming from your classroom. turns out everyone was crowding around your desk where an expensive box with elegant packaging and a bouquet of your favourite flowers were placed. on top was a letter, signed with his name emphasis on him mentioning that he was ur bf 🙄 safe to say that boys stayed out of ur way after that grand display. they did not want to mess w rich people, with powerful connections ☺️ (p.s: in case ur wondering... yes, sakusa made that food with lots of help *cough* komori - but it's the thought that counts)

USHIJIMA

this man strongly believes in a well balanced diet. he doesn't think the food in the refectory fancy word for cafeteria cuz it's shiratorizawa pls 🙄 is good for the health, so he insists on you having dinner at his place where he can whip up something that's "health appropriate." as you can see from the plating, your very organized boyfriend arranged the food in certain proportions according to the body's needs. like iwa, ushijima would jot down the calories to maintain his and your weight. also, there's no such thing as second servings in his household. what u see on your plate, is it. period. there's a "no leftovers" policy too. and he highly discourages drinking water straight after eating, and instead makes you drink green tea to burn the fats.

YAKU

makes you his signature curry dish during a stay in date. you probs brought up how nobody's curry could live up to the one you had in your favourite diner, so yaku made it his sole purpose to prove you wrong. and prove you wrong he did 🙂 you tried to deny it at first, but boy can this man cook. the seasoning, flavour, visual appeal, and aroma was just to die for. you won't be visiting that restaurant all that much anymore ✌️

TSUKISHIMA

you were low-key jealous of other girls' sweet boyfriends making their significant others' bento boxes. unfortunately for you, your boyfriend wasn't the least bit "sweet." ofc he has his soft moments, but making bento lunches were not one of them. you've been pestering him about it for months now, and all have been sadly, for naught. all u got was "😐" that face and the label "shameless woman." eventually, you stopped talking abt it and the following morning while you were rummaging through your bag, you found a medium-sized bento box, that you definitely did not put in there. inside was a piece of paper with three lovely words, and no - it wasn't i love you, more like "you happy now?" you were ecstatic.

OIKAWA

ok let's face it, this man spends too much time training to even cook for himself - much less you. which probably means you guys live off of instant noodles most of the time, since you guys eat together after practice in the gym room. one time, he decided to do something nice for you in return for supporting his stupid self all the time. most girls would've been fed up with his volleyball ways, but you never gave up on him. so he asked permission to use the teacher's kitchen and add some "dazzle" to the plain noodles. he put in some cooked spam, chives, sauteed, seasoned, a boiled egg, a couple of side dishes and voila! dinner for two 🌹 (dw, he always takes you to a fancy restaurant after a big game though 😉)

OSAMU

he makes you an entire feast. period.

taglist: @tetsuukuroo @amisuh @kenmaslov3r @ebiharachan

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hooterhorror · 2 years

Note

Heloo could I get slashers with an S/O that talks to themselves alot? Maybe they whisper to themselves about how their day was and what they're going to eat for dinner etc.

Ofc anon! I hope u enjoy!!!

(only doing a select few slashers, hope that's ok!!!)

Slashers with an s/o who talks to themselves

format: headcanons

warnings: not proofread as per usual! I choose violence and illiteracy!

Thomas.

Hoyt probably notices it before Thomas does. Then it's luda noticing it because Hoyt bitched about it and she was more aware of it when it happened around her

"Dammit hoyt, they're just talking to themselves!! Lord, YOU'RE the nuisance around here!"

why would you even need to talk to yourself in a house as loud as this one? lol

Thomas notices it when he walks into the kitchen and finds you cleaning the dishes, muttering to yourself about the mess and the soap.

you've probably done it around him before this point, but this is the first time he's really... noticed? it isn't like it's earth shattering or anything

Even Thomas grumbles to himself when something goes wrong, or when he's given more shit than usual by hoyt

Not bothered in the slightest, but worries it's because he's not spending enough time with you :( pls tell him he's wrong, or his heart will explode

"I've don't this for a while, Tommy. I don't even realize I'm doing it sometimes"

He likes hearing your little conversations with yourself,, he just likes- no, LOVES- everything about you. This included!

There's been a good few times he's been able to sit silently and listen to your whispered ramblings. He's loves every second! it really is a nice way to wind down :)

Brahms.

Since he's been watching you for a while, he already knows.

he doesn't see anything wrong with it! Why would he? he mumbles to himself sometimes too.

He isn't anywhere near as muttery as Billy Lenz is, let's be clear-

but seeing you chat with yourself just makes Brahms subconsciously start doing it more.

If you make a little time for yourself while making food or doing your chores, it'll get stuck in his head and he'll be humming it as you're asleep and he's raiding the pantry.

So he's like 1000% alright with it when he shows himself and y'all start an actual relationship.

He'll even interrupt your one on one conversation with yourself to reply for you

[whispering] "aw, did you mess it up? didn't you read the instructions? it's literally just pancake mix-"

"yEAH IT'S JUST PANCAKE MIX LOL 🙄"

It's a harmless habit. He even thinks it's adorable and funny!

Bubba.

I use she/he/they for bubba!

A darling angel. I love bubba. no one look at me I am SOBBING-

Anyways

bubba notices it pretty fast, but again it's not something that really sticks out? especially not in a house like this one... I'm pretty sure everyone talks to themselves in this house

bubba included!

bubba tends to rant to themselves when she's stressed and has no one to ramble to. That kinda changed when you came along and started dating bubba. You listen to him so they haven't had to turn back to that habit!

Is at first concerned you're doing those angry self rants, but then she hears you cursing at your bowl of soup and decides: yeah, it's very much not that. Everything's okay!

I can see choptop and nubbins teasing you, or asking if you're crazy like the rest of them. Drayton surprisingly only gives you a look when he catches you doing it

Bubba will simply kiss the top of your head when he walks in on you talking to your food or the dishes. Does it every time. you start to expect it now!

Billy Lnz.

Asks you about it when he calls and you pick up. Asks what you talk to yourself about since he can't quite hear it from his spot in the attic- but he can tell when you're heated! c'mon! attic man wants some gossip!

Perfect relationship tbh. Y'all talk to yourselves and neither of you interrupt the other when they're busy having a chat with themselves.

Well, that's a lie. Billy will most definitely interrupt for some attention, and complain you spend more time with yourself than him-

that's ridiculous. he knows it. and you know it.

His conversations aren't even really conversations. He only really goes into full rambles to himself when he's having a bad day and he's more of a mess than usual-

which means he requires a hug and some kisses. or some alone time, it really depends on how bad it is. you'll know though.

Billy also picks up on when your usual whisperings to yourself about your food is something more and if you're upset. He might ask, or he might just come up behind you and hold you

Yes. Billy's hugs fix everything. No I will not elaborate.

Billy also finds any non emotionally charged self chats of yours to be very entertaining

"You will be the best microwaved pizza ever. Get in there."

There is never a boring day in y'all's house, I tell you that.

Lester S.

"....You okay, darlin'?"

yeah that's his reaction to walking in on you talking to yourself.

"Oh, yeah, im fine! just talking to myself!"

"Oh. what you talking about?"

Thinks it's really funny AND cute! He doesn't know why it's so entertaining, but they always make him laugh

he even picks the habit up a bit himself. He'll be driving and muttering to himself about the roads or the roadkill

only to himself though, he hasn't done it while you were in the truck with him. Yet, anyways.

Bo gives you both shit for it. Tells Lester "your partner is goin crazy" and says he finds it annoying

Bo ily but who tf cares. no one.

Lester comments on what you're whispering about here and there.

"You stupid soup- why are you still cold!? your bowl is hot as hell!"

"Damn darlin, does that soup not like you? Want me to talk to it?"

He makes things 10000x more dorky and wonderful omfg

Vincent is worried but will not say anything

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ahtsumu · 3 years

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

1K notes · View notes

hansolmates · 4 years

Text

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits / @chillingtae for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.”

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.”

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband.

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend.

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?”

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers.

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.”

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds.

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy. It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons.

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?”

“As if you care.”

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.”

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan.

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.”

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night.

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.”

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.”

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid.

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.”

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.”

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.”

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?”

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.”

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop.

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?”

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.”

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.”

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.”

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says.

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.”

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.”

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table.

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!”

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.”

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?”

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders.

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility.

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow.

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted.

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon?

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through.

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date.

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist.

“How was the walk over?”

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.”

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is.

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill.

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?”

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat.

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?”

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.”

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?”

“It… was mildly cute.”

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.”

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning.

“Is that why you never hung out with us?”

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.”

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.”

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself.

“So what’s the plan?”

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.”

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?”

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon.

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth.

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.”

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.”

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass.

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.”

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple.

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place.

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?”

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says.

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.”

“I do like Valorant.”

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.”

“He’s ripped as hell.”

“I am ripped as hell.”

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.”

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.”

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.”

“Okay yes one bad example—”

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.”

“See? It’s a mutual decision.”

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!"

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now."

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.”

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair.

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.”

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace.

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish.

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!”

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.”

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!”

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.”

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin.

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her.

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.”

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.”

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something.

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?”

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head.

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.”

“Right,” you answer reluctantly.

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.”

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.”

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.”

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.”

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks.

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?”

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store.

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.”

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?”

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.”

“But, Namjoon got us a table—”

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.”

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.”

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.”

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.”

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes.

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard.

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork.

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips.

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.”

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket.

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream.

“Pray tell.”

“She’s jealous of you.”

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.”

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.”

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.”

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.”

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?”

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that?

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it.

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon.

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words, “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.”

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside.

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.”

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist.

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place.

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.”

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around.

“We’re in Vegas, baby!”

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!”

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it.

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?”

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger.

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.”

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.”

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same.

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent.

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you.

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton.

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.”

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then?

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?”

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.”

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.”

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks.

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick.

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.”

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.”

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.”

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.”

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.”

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.”

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.”

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini.

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area.

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place.

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.”

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side.

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.”

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.”

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on.

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one.

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy.

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.”

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for.

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.”

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified.

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?”

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating.

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week.

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes.

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double.

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?”

“But this is different!”

“But Doyeon’s family!”

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party.

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.”

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.”

“Deal.”

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body.

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.”

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.”

“Excuse me—”

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.”

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?”

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.”

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive?

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.”

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features.

“Is it something urgent?”

“Well, no but—”

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.”

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline.

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest.

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.”

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting.

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food.

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?”

He shrugs, “Looked around.”

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this.

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time.

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products.

“I wanna come!”

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?”

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.”

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.”

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom.

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design.

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too.

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height.

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel.

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean.

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.”

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in.

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.”

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.”

“Then more kisses?”

“Then more kisses.”

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?”

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!”

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two.

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button.

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.”

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u

You: lool, why do u look constipated

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest.

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge.

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.”

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind.

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin.

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.”

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator.

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet.

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.”

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?”

“Because it’s tradition!”

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?”

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.”

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down.

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite.

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure.

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down.

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better.

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!”

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship?

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you.

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?”

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family.

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different.

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together.

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room.

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes.

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?”

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!”

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?”

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods.

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor.

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down.

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?”

“Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy.

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process.

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!”

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons.

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice.

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.”

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you.

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.”

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words.

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.”

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double.

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon.

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you?

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist.

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.”

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?”

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook.

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.”

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips.

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.”

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.”

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.”

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face.

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands, “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.”

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you.

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.”

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs.

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.”

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt, a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash.

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—”

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?”

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back!

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you.

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment.

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer.

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.”

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.”

“Thanks, Jungkookie.”

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible.

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket.

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown.

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her.

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.”

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?”

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?”

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her.

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.”

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something.

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago.

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this.

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful.

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning.

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week.

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged.

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine.

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready.

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?”

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?”

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.”

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings.

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain.

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.”

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—”

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?”

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding.

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.”

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.”

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!”

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?”

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.”

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.”

“You’ll have to get through me, first.”

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress.

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.”

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin.

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.”

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.”

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground.

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision.

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel.

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.”

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.”

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t. Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle.

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?”

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?”

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.”

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations.

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie.

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon.

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family.

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online.

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend.

Or?

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs?

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter.

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.”

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.”

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric.

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon.

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself.

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…”

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.”

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.”

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.”

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.”

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips.

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline.

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.”

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair.

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?”

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs.

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.”

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now.

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.”

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”

#jungkook x reader #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst

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greta-van-fics · 3 years

Text

wine thursdays

author’s note: this accidentally became long AF fjldfsjlkd, just a fluffy smut sam neighbor au request for @hippievanfleet ♥︎ liv

taglist: @thatiloveyouso @stardustschords @greta-van-yeet @gretavanhoney @nonsensepoet

warnings: alcohol mention, s m u t (18+), unprotected sex (wear a condom pls!)

You practically kicked down the door to your home. After two steps, your bag and shoes were flung down, and after four your jacket had been peeled off and tossed aside. Six more steps and you were flopped down on the couch, groaning and rubbing your eyes. Your back cracked deliciously as you allowed yourself to luxuriate in a stretch for a moment.

“Long fuckin’ day,” you grumbled to no one in particular. Standing up again, you made your way to the kitchen, in search of some dinner. Ah, the perfect meal: that opened bottle of Merlot sitting happily in your fridge.

You snatched it up and popped the cork. As you reached towards the cabinet to pick out a wine glass, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror that hung over your stove. The mascara you’d painstakingly applied that morning was smeared into very becoming raccoon eyes.

“Cuuuuute,” you giggled, winking at yourself in the mirror. You extended your arm for the glass, but as your fingertips closed around it, it slipped and fell with a delicate shatter onto the linoleum. “Oh, of course.”

A knock on your front door made you even more frustrated. “Seriously? Not right now,” you muttered, not wanting to deal with whatever sweet old neighbor of yours had undoubtedly made cookies to share.

“I’m coming!” you said. You weaved your way around the shattered glass and towards the door. Upon opening it, you saw your way-too-hot and way-too-loud neighbor, Sam, clutching another bottle of wine.

“I sensed I was needed,” he said, wrinkling his brow like a comic book superhero. “My Spidey senses were tingling.” He stepped into your apartment before you could even open your mouth. “Long day, princess?”

Your cheeks colored furiously despite your best efforts to conceal it. “Sam, can I help you?”

You’d had a crush on him since the day he moved in and introduced himself to every single person on your floor. The boy didn’t have an enemy in the world; everyone absolutely adored him and his effervescent personality. You remembered your first meeting vividly.

“Hi! I’m Sam! Do you like wine on Thursdays? I was thinking, I need another young person to have Wine Thursdays with, like we get takeout and open a bottle of something cheap and delicious, you in?”

“.....What’s going on?”

Wine Thursdays had been a regular staple of yours for the past eight months, but this week had your head in such a whirlwind that you’d completely forgotten today was the day. The highlight of your week, the shining light at the end of the tunnel that was...Sam.

“I heard something made of glass shatter,” Sam admitted from your sitting room as he set his bottle down on the coffee table.

“Oh, yeah, a stupid wine glass fell. It’s shot.” You shrugged, trying desperately to push away the ringing echoes of “Princess” in your ears. Sam made his way into the kitchen and whistled lowly in surprise.

“Where’s your broom, mamacita?” God, if he kept this up much longer you’d be a wobbly puddle.

You entered the kitchen behind him and retrieved your broom from its hiding place next to the fridge. Before you could begin to sweep up the glass, Sam snatched it out of your hands and did it for you.

“Oh, Sammy, you don’t need to do that!” you cried. Sam shook his head, his newly-cropped hair flaring around his neck.

“After the day you’ve clearly had, this isn’t all I have to do.”

You froze. That was an innuendo, wasn’t it? But Sam made joking innuendos all the time. But this one, surely had to be—

“How do you know I had a bad day?” you croaked, embarrassed at the sound of your own voice. He stood up, carefully dumping the dustpan full of glass shards into your trash can.

He didn’t make eye contact with you as he sheepishly admitted, “Your makeup is smeared a little bit, like you were crying. So dinner’s on me tonight.”

“Oh, God.” You exhaled a shaky laugh. “It’s smeared because I rubbed my eyes when I got home! Don’t worry about me.” Just as your heart stopped racing, it also sunk a little in disappointment. So no innuendo there, then.

“I do worry about you.” Sam’s voice was low, and your eyes shot up to meet his. He was gazing at you now, his lips pressed together as if he was trying to figure out the words he needed next. “I think they might be working you to death.”

Heat was pooling between your legs at his intensity. You’d never seen him this serious, and it made your nervousness increase a few degrees. The kitchen felt incredibly small and tight, as if it was forcing the two of you together. Sam took a step towards you.

“I think you’re really beautiful,” he said bluntly, and your breath caught in your throat, “but every day I see you come home from that job, you look completely worn out. I think you need someone to take care of you.” He closed the distance between you two. Your heart was now pounding in your ears, and you were sure you would pass out or be even more mortified when this turned out to be another harmless flirtation from him.

“Do you want to relax, baby?”

Your brain barely had time to form the words before you were saying them breathlessly: “God, yes, Sammy.”

His fingers snaked and tightened around the sides of your face, pulling you into a feverish kiss. His soft, full lips fit perfectly against yours and you moaned into the kiss, making him pull you in deeper. The two of you separated only when you absolutely needed oxygen.

“Fuck, I’ve thought about this forever,” Sam said, hurriedly beginning to undo the button-down he was wearing. His eyes had gone a completely different shade of brown, darkening every second as he drank the sight of you and your kiss-swollen lips in. “Get undressed and get on the couch.”

There was no way this was actually happening, right? You must have fallen asleep when you first got home and were now having the hottest dream of your life.

You stumbled into the sitting room again and removed your shirt and pants. The thought suddenly occurred to you that Sam would be seeing your naked body, and your froze in shame.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Sam asked as he pulled his pants off his long, lean legs. He clocked your embarrassed expression and made his way over to you. “Hey, you’re a fucking angel. So fucking pretty, I have to stop myself from taking you in the hallway every time I see you.” He grabbed you and kissed your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.

“Sammy, you make me feel so good,” you murmured, any reservations melting away from your mind.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Sam growled and threw you on the couch. With a yelp, you landed and instinctively pulled your knees up to your chest. “Oh look, baby girl knows just what to do,” he said with a cocky smile.

After he practically dove on top of you, you once more began making out, running your hands over each other’s bodies. You traced the lines of his tanned back, leaving indentations with your nails when he bit your bottom lip and pulled, then relinquished it with a satisfying smack against your teeth.

“Fuck, Sam, I’ve wanted this since the day I met you,” you breathed. Sam began moving his way down your body, planting open-mouthed kisses on every inch of you he could reach.

He finally stopped just short of your aching core, tugging your panties to one side. “Please, Sammy,” you pleaded.

“Baby?” He said, lifting his head to make sure you were looking at him. “I said I was going to take care of you. Help you relax. So I want you to scream as loud as you fucking want when I bury my face in your perfect cunt.” With that, he lowered his face and licked a stripe up you with his tongue flattened.

You realized in that moment that you had never truly screamed. The noise that left your mouth was completely foreign to you. You arched your back and scraped your fingers at Sam’s head, desperately searching for anything to grab onto. He continued to eat you out so wonderfully that you were chanting his name when you felt your orgasm hurtling towards you.

“Sam!” you gasped, pushing his head away from your legs. He sat up, and you saw his gorgeous face...covered in your slick. There was a glistening strip from his nose to his chin that made you want to spontaneously combust.

“Please fuck me, Sam,” you prayed. Sam pulled a hairband off his wrist and quickly tied back any stray locks that were flopping into his face. He then took the opportunity to lean down and press a quick kiss to your mouth. You could taste yourself and him mingled together, and it tasted like the most delicious sin you could think of. He yanked off what remained of both of your’s underwear.

“Of course, baby.” He lined himself up and thrust into you with a hiss. You immediately scrambled to claw at his back, the feeling of his thick cock stretching you making you yell out in pained pleasure. “Good?” he grunted, face buried in your neck. You nodded pathetically and smacked his back, signaling that he should start moving.

He pulled out and thrust into you again, starting up a rhythm that had his hips slapping at yours mercilessly. “Ohhhhhh fuck, angel. You feel so good,” he moaned. You had your eyes screwed shut and knew you must look ridiculous, but you couldn’t make yourself care. Sam was fucking you so relentlessly and you never wanted it to end.

Soon, though, you felt your high approaching again, and you groaned out, “Gonna cum, Sammy,” as eloquently as you were able.

Sam’s hips stuttered and his thrusts grew sloppy as you shrieked and your body came completely undone beneath him. You felt like your limbs were made of a billion, white-hot stars, and the man inside you was the only thing tethering you to Earth.

With a strangled moan, Sam pulled out of you and came all over your breasts and stomach. The sight was hot as fuck, and you indulged in it for a moment: Sam, completely fucked out and sweaty, tiny hairs plastered to his forehead, and his cum, covering your entire torso. But you could tell the exhausted man wanted nothing more than to collapse on top of you. You reached over and grabbed a towel that had been placed, by luck or by fate, who knew, on your end table and cleaned the both of you up.

Sam flopped down next to you on the couch, pulling you into him. “Wine Thursdays fucking rule.”

#can u tell im tired LOL #gvf fic #greta van fleet fic #sam kiszka #by liv

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corpsedaydream · 3 years

Note

I just like the concept of the reader going on and on about something and him with his head in his palms, total heart eyes "listing" to the one sided conversation

i think by some of the things i’ve written before we all know this is a trope i loooooooove lets do it

edit before posting: this has lowkey become one of my favourite things i’ve written on this account! omg i am rly proud of it and i hope u guys like it too 🥺🥺🥺 pls let me know what u think of it!

word count: 1.5k

_______________________________

carrots

so maybe you were a little bit of a picky eater. but you’d never be caught admitting to that, to yourself, or to anyone. when someone happened to bring it up, you would just say something along the lines of that, you were just peculiar about what you ate.

you still remember the first moment corpse had said something about it.

"you’re picky, aren’t you?” he’d asked and your eyes snapped up. he’d been watching and listening to you closely as your eyes scanned the menu. the first time he’d been witness to it. you had been babbling out loud about what sounded best to you, but then you would also mention things you would want to switch out and add in to make it even better. you were moreso talking to yourself, but corpse had been so zoned in on you. things between the both you were still so recent, he was still learning you and he liked to pay attention.

“i’m what?” you sounded offended. and corpse had to try really hard not to crack a smirk.

“you’re a little picky, right?” he also tried keeping his tone from becoming too teasing, yet.

“no.” your response was very quick, you were on the defence. and he couldn’t help but to smile then. he knew he was right.

“there’s nothing wrong if you are, i’m just wondering.”

“well stop wondering and figure out what you’re ordering and not worry about what i’m getting.” you were a little hangry at this point, too. another fact corpse had come to learn about you. if you didn’t eat when you announced you were hungry, it would only be a short amount of time until that hangry monster in you emerged.

“i already know what i’m getting.” he counteracted.

“well, good.”

“because i’m not picky.” he couldn’t help himself but to tease you.

“i’m not picky! i just like what i like.”

ever since then, whenever the two of you had found yourselves in a situation where it involved reading a menu, he loved to watch you do it. you always took a lot longer than corpse to order, but he never minded. each time, you studied it like you were studying for an important exam and you would mumble audibly, lost in a quiet conversation between you and yourself. and how he loved to listen in, like it was exclusive information and corpse was a fly on the wall. he had made a habit of deciding on his food very quickly so he could give you his full attention for these moments.

still to this day, you weren’t aware he did this. you would be so caught up in reading the menu, figuring out how you were going to satisfy your picky eating habits that you’d never looked up to find your boyfriend looking so lovingly at you.

he then, would even love to see how you interacted with the staff when you did finally make up your mind and were ready to order. you always spoke to everyone as if they were a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. you were like no one else, so warm, so bright, so inviting. in world where social interaction could be so awkward, you thrived instead. you’d smile and make jokes, you were a social butterfly. sometimes, though, he’d catch himself feeling slightly jealous if the person working was getting a little too caught up in your words and getting a little too lost in your eyes. your words were for him to get caught up in, a soundtrack he’d play over and over if he could. and your eyes were for him to peer into, for him to wonder if the brain inside your head was made of something different to make you this enchanting.

but then you’d always look back to corpse and you’d give him a smile that was reserved for only him. a smile that no one else was lucky enough to witness. it was a smile that was made out of the genuine love you felt only for him. one that said, it’s okay, i’m with you, i’m yours. and he’d feel better. how could he not when that sunshine you radiated made it’s way into him and made him feel brighter.

"what’d you decide on?” he always asked you this. even though he’d just heard your thoughts leading up to your final decision. but he still liked to hear you answer him at a normal level, when you were actually engaging in conversation with him and he wasn’t just overhearing your spoken thoughts with yourself.

he wasn’t often surprised when you told him of your order, because of how much he already had listened to you. but tonight you did say something that surprised him.

“it comes with cooked carrots, but i just won’t eat them.”

“you love carrots?” he questioned, because he thought he was so sure of this. it was often a snack you had some days during sometime in the mid afternoon to tie you over until dinner. and you wouldn’t just eat one either, you’d eat about three or four. in fact, there’d been multiple times he’d told you if you ate that many carrots you wouldn’t be hungry for dinner.

“i do, but only fresh.” you answered him. “i hate cooked carrots.”

“are they not the same-”

“no!” immediately you cut him off, and instantly he was entertained. he knew right away this was going to turn into you going off on a tangent. you often would get oh so passionate about topics that didn’t require any actual level of passion, but oh how he loved to sit and listen when your words ran off with your fire fuelled personality.

you continued on, “don’t even finish that sentence! they are not the same thing at all.”

corpse remained silent, instead, he moved to place his elbows on the top of the table to rest his head in his hand, to really show he was paying attention. this was for both you and him, he knew your love language was quality time and that meant you wanting undivided attention and for him, he was too excited to learn this new found information about you.

“first of all, i would like to know who was the first person who even decided to cook a carrot.” and so you began. “they’re literally perfect with how they are already.” you took a deep breath in and corpse had to fight off a laugh. “they’re the perfect amount of crunch, the perfect amount of fresh, the perfect shape to hold as you eat it, the perfect size to go in your mouth, it’s always satisfying to chomp through a carrot.” you were talking with your hands, lifting a finger each time you mentioned something you loved about carrots. then you paused, holding your hand up to signal you were going to continue after you took a quick sip of water.

apparently you really meant business about carrots. and as he watched you drink the water, he wondered how on earth could he have missed this breaking update that you didn’t like cooked carrots? he wondered why he hadn’t picked up on it during all of his time of watching you read through menus.

“like, who ate a carrot in its natural and best form and thought, this is so great, i love carrots, now i’m going to try and ruin it!”

“ruin it?”

“yes, ruin it, corpse!”

“i don’t think they intended to ruin it.”

“well they did! and for what?” you questioned out loud, but corpse knew it wasn’t for him to answer, you were questioning the universe. “what was the point of ruining carrots? a food that was already so perfect, it’s so dumb.”

for a second, he thought you might have finished right there, but you didn’t.

“and the fact that it gets cooked in so many different ways? like, stop! no one asked you to do that.” you huffed, and he smiled. you were talking about carrots of all things, but he was going to listen to every word you said. “like, find me one person who prefers cooked carrots over normal carrots? you can’t!”

“i bet i could.” corpse only said this to will you on further.

“no you couldn’t!” how easily you argued against his words and he did laugh that time, but you still weren’t finished talking about carrots. “and if you ever do, you better run for your life because that person would be a serial killer.”

he continued to laugh and you knew you were being overdramatic, but you had accepted a long time ago, that, that was a very definitive part of your personality. it was a part of you that corpse had come to adore when it came out like this.

“carrots are perfect, like, truly an ideal food. and i will never forgive whoever was the first person who ever cooked a carrot.”

“what if it was me?” he couldn’t help but to say, his tone a little teasing.

and there it was that again, that smile of yours. “maybe i’d consider, but it would be a hard battle to win me over.”

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #writing #mine #request #Anonymous #answered

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a-simple-imagine · 3 years

Text

sugary sweet

requested by anonymous: “could u pls write a story abt spending ur birthday with vanessa?”

pairing: Vanessa (in the heights) x fem!reader

words: 1.4k+

A/N - this is not as fluffy as you probably expected. I just never write happy stories that involve birthdays, it’s cute at the end though

the bright, early morning sun peeked through the blinds as you slowly open your eyes to find the space beside you vacant. evidence of your girlfriend was there but she was nowhere to be found. the apartment felt eerily quiet. had she already left for work? what time was it? normally she'd at least say goodbye first. what a way to start the day. the rattle of the elevated train shakes throughout the apartment as it zooms past the window. you let out a heavy sigh. today was gonna be a very long day.

"happy birthday!" an excited voice as the bed dips suddenly bouncing you against the mattress. Vanessa wears a bright smile and in her hand was a ceramic white bowl.

"thank you," With both hands against the bed, you push yourself upright. full of fresh berries, Vanessa offers up the bowl but not without stealing one or two first.

"I gotta get to work but you can sleep more if you want," odd offer. you rarely spent time here without her. it was her apartment so you didn't really have a reason to plus that train can be awful annoying sometimes... most of the time. "do whatever but if you plan on goin home just come by the salon with the key, yeah?" a gentle kiss bestowed upon your forehead. a simple nod to confirm you understood the instructions and Vanessa was rushing out the bedroom, only to reappear a mere moment later. "you gonna be alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Unspoken words hang in the air as Vanessa keeps her eyes trained in on you; her feelings left unclear by her quick shrug before rushing out the door. you hear the door click this time. your smile fades into the silence, glancing down at the fruit. picking up a berry, you toss it into your mouth then place it off to the side. a heavy feeling twists at your stomach and pulls at your tear ducts. it was a complicated feeling. you didn't exactly have a reason for it but seeing your birthday as a day of celebration was also difficult. every year felt like it came with a personal checklist of life achievements. career milestones. marriage. babies. fitness goals. buying property. it was like a reminder that you were so far behind other people your age but then again, you weren't even sure what you wanted in life. following such a linear path seemed so trivial in the grand scheme of things. there was no guarantee of happiness or fulfilment but rather they were just the milestones of life everyone was expected to want. all you had was a dead-end job and your developing relationship with Vanessa. She made you happy, you weren't denying that. but did your whole life just equate to settling down with her? dark clouds hung low in your mind. how to spend this oh so special occasion? you could go out? you didn't have a lot of friends so it wasn't like you weren't used to doing things alone. today, however, the thought of doing anything just seemed... pathetic. like a strong reminder of how isolated you truly were. in the end, you decide against going out. decide against going home. you would merely entertain yourself until Vanessa returns. it was strange being in her apartment without her. you focus on her atrociously messy desk. paper, pens, cutouts scattered everywhere. getting out of bed, you take a closer look at the designs pinned to the wall. it was rather selfish but often your cloud of insecurity blinds you from the thought of Vanessa's dreams. you pull one of the designs down. simply but elegant and coloured in a metallic silvery-blue it looked like an evening gown. you had discussed her desperation and desire to leave Washington heights. you knew all too well that she wanted to be a fashion designer and there was nothing you wanted for her more than for her to achieve her dreams. but where do you fit into all of that?

The sun is long gone by the time Vanessa finally arrives home. "you decided to stick around then."

"guess so," you shrug, glancing towards her. she drops a plastic bag or two on the kitchen counter. "I can leave if you want?"

"no- no, I'm glad you're still here," Vanessa quickly responds, breezing right past you towards the bedroom. "so... what did you do today?"

"nothing,"

"for real?" she calls out. "you didn't do anything for your birthday?"

"didn't feel up to it,"

"I knew I shouldn't have left you here alone," was that sympathy or pity in her voice? they sounded similar.

"it's fine,"

"no, it's not," your girlfriend huffs. "I feel bad,"

"don't need the pity, nessa." Vanessa reappears from the bedroom dressed in nothing but a long t-shirt. "isn't that mine?"

"probably," a quick shrug as she looks over herself, "I just... you could have come to the salon or something."

"it's not a big deal," you insist. "it's all good."

"you should care more," she replies, "and we're gonna finish it off right,"

"what does that even mean?" your brows furrow, eyes following the other woman to the kitchen area. "have you eaten?"

"Nah- thought I'd wait for you," truth be told you just didn't feel like cooking but a little white lie never hurt anyone. plus it sounded sweeter to think you waited just so you could eat together.

"Great," the woman spins on her heel and from her hand dangles a white plastic bag that explained the tantalising aroma that had enveloped the apartment. "because I brought take out."

"What kind?"

"Chinese," Proud words accompanied by a knowing smirk. "your favourite."

"you know me well," jumping up, you join Vanessa at the kitchen counter. she's unloading different cartons of food. a quick kiss is placed on her cheek as you grab the cutlery. nothing beats a little Chinese food after a long day

with dinner done and dusted, Vanessa tasks you with taking out the trash despite your protest. it was your birthday you shouldn't have to do it but there was no convincing your very stubborn girlfriend. marching all the way down the stairs of her apartment building; the elevator was once again, broken. it conveniently always seemed to be out of order when you wanted to use it. a slow climb back up, you arrive back to a very dark apartment. "power out or...?" that didn't make any sense. the lights in the hallway were clearly still on. the roar of the train brings with it a warm flicker of candlelight in the corner of the kitchen.

"happy birthday to you," her quiet melodic voice starts to sing as she turns slowly. in Vanessa's hand sits a cupcake with a single pink candle expertly placed in the centre. "happy birthday to you," slow careful steps closer, her hand shielding the flame. "happy birthday dear-"

"do we have to do this?"

"yes," she declared finishing off the song as she meets you in the middle. it's hard not to appreciate the cheesy gesture, an embarrassed smile settling on your lips. "now make a wish." taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter closed before blowing out the fire. handing over the cake, you swipe a little of the white frosting on the tip of your finger and into your mouth. sugary sweet. "how is it?"

"want a taste?" a playful quirk of your brow, you place the cupcake on the counter and pull Vanessa flush against you. her hands fall to your hips and you place your arms over her shoulders. "well?"

your girlfriend nods a little, keeping her eyes on yours. leaning in slowly, you connect your lips in a gentle embrace. Vanessa smiles into the kiss. " Feliz cumpleaños, cariño." whispered against your lips. "sorry for not doing more."

"don't be," you shrug a little. "this was enough. you are enough."

looking into her eyes and even in the darkness, you can tell she's holding something back. some comment or feeling. it's the same with you. despite your words, that heavy feeling still burned in your chest. a lost, empty feeling that may never truly leave but you didn't want to have that conversation. "let's go to bed."

backing away from her, visible confusion crosses your face. "it's only like... ten?"

"exactly," Vanessa takes your hand, a smirk on her lips.

"what about my cupcake?"

"what about it?" A soft little giggle but you don't protest as she leads you towards the bedroom.

#vanessa morales #in the heights #vanessa in the heights #melissa barrera #vanessa ith

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