#usually i hate when grown people act cute but sometimes. man. sometimes they just do it right like he’s actually cute which is the WORST

[wantbytaemin]

spot the difference game [LEVEL IMPOSSIBLE]

#i think why i love it so much. aside from the throwing it in a circle bit. is the SMUG happy face he makes #usually i hate when grown people act cute but sometimes. man. sometimes they just do it right like he’s actually cute which is the WORST #and also he did it again not even just once but like 3 more times btw once w the catallena bow on his head #am i tempted to upload that one too? yes i am. #stray kids #medvjedić lino

[stardustdiiving]

Wanderer doesn’t hide the fact he likes Nahida

I totally get Wanderer being snarky is a funny punchline but sometimes I see Wanderer portrayed as being super snappy and mean in response to Nahida trying to be nice to him and I can’t help being like no!!!!!! He wouldn’t do that to her!! :(

Often people seem to think their dynamic is Wanderer being grouchy & mean & telling her to screw off all the time because he doesn’t want to admit he ~actually enjoys Nahida’s company~ but man like. Wanderer isn’t some edgy moody teenager that Nahida has to keep on a leash and scold regularly whenever he acts out—he’s a grown man who’s actually pretty emotionally perceptive/intelligent when he wants to be in my opinion—he’s just very blunt and cynical and often rude/harsh as a result

Wanderer hates sugarcoating his emotions & if him liking Nahida is majorly because he feels she’s proven it’s more or less safe to trust her, i don’t think he has any reason to hide the fact he genuinely respects her and is regularly open about this when he interacts about her in canon. He may grumble about her requests or emotional earnesty because, well, it’s Wanderer, but imo if he were regularly snappy/mean to Nahida even in an “all-bark-no-bite” way we would’ve see them interact like that on screen already—but we don’t, and the fact that’s now how does treat her is a part of their dynamic I find very endearing and enjoy a lot—so I want to highlight it!

Like…look at how he talks to/about her even just going off of inversion of genesis alone:

I feel hes noticeably more cordial and cooperative with Nahida compared to say, Traveler & Paimon—he doesn’t try to intentionally provoke her for fun (or out of spite in the case of early IoG) the way he does with us/Traveler, both in Inversion of Genesis and Parade of Providence. He spends all of PoP intentionally trying to act suspicious/up to no good to mess with the Traveler & Paimon whenever we run into him—and then we get to the end of the event and find out Nahida just… asked him to monitor the event to make sure there wasn’t any trouble (+ wanted him to make friends LOL).

Like we literally see Nahida playfully tease him on screen and he doesn’t snap or get really grouchy with her…he just tolerates it like a mildly disgruntled cat

Which is…cute! I think it’s very endearing, especially when I don’t feel Nahida is usually playful like this unless she considers them an equal/friend—it feels like maybe she picks up on his energy a bit and adjusts her sense of humor/friendliness accordingly so it’s more intuitive/comfortable for both of them

Everyone jokes about Nahida dragging Wanderer into socializing and making friends right—which is true and something I think is very silly & fun, but again…while Wanderer may grumble about it I don’t think he’s actively mad or fighting with her about it even hyperbolically. Look at how he responds to Nahida telling him she wants to help him reach out to people in Parade of Providence:

This, combined with how he mentions feeling about Nahida not wanting him to isolate & be lonely in his birthday letter (“I can see that she was looking for a chance to make my life more fulfilling, but has she ever stopped to think about what an "experience" it is for others to meet me?”) gives me less an impression Wanderer is outwardly indignant and grouchy about Nahida trying to help him and more like…openly appreciative of the gesture but just doesn’t really think he’s worth the effort

I again think the specific way his responses to her trying to help him emotionally are always worded again show a distinct respect he has for Nahida as a person, and he seems genuinely grateful by the fact she gave him a second chance when, given how internally harsh Wanderer is about things and himself and how much he’s internalized expecting to be used or disregarded by others constantly unless he fights tooth and nail to not be, he probably didn’t expect any sort of grace at all post losing the gnosis, much less having someone seem to genuinely believe in him & want him to be happy/stable when he took said offered chance

I just think Wanderer is someone who cares a lot about being straightforward, especially about things that really move him emotionally, and think it’s really sweet he feels moved enough by Nahida’s encouragement & goodwill towards him to genuinely want to try with life. I get so sad when It seems like people think Wanderer is too like, emotionally immature or jaded to ever care to express how he feels about Nahida even in his own blunt, recovering nihilist way (when he explicitly does in canon IMO) and have him be snarky & grouchy to Nahida constantly, or believe he’d find her being good naturedly silly/childish annoying and scoff at her for it (people seem to think he hates children when he canonically does not and is quite fond of them!! I personally think some of that soft spot comes from finding childish earnestness + innocence kind of bittersweetly cathartic/comforting to see and would be something he’d actively like about Nahida!!) 😔

This is something I always try to portray in my own fanworks of them I just like it a lot, I want people to see the vision!!! Their relationship is very mutual on effort put in from both sides & Wanderer is more open about respecting Nahida than you may believe—which means he actively tries to acknowledge her kindness towards him and she doesn’t have to babysit him or drag him into cooperating with her all the time! And I find it very touching and sweet!

#scarmouche #nahida #wanderer #genshin #hat radish #I had a lot of fun writing this post if you can’t tell. I love talking about my hat radishes #maybe this is too long for ppl to want to read but that doesn’t stop me….we ball #wanderer nahida friendship agenda & my insane passion for characterization are eternal #fern.txt #fandomferns

[8thplacewolfos]

Caregiver Albert Wesker Headcanons!

There is a distinct lack of caregiver Wesker content in the Resident Evil Agere tag and I wanna change that. This man would be a great caregiver! So let's show him some love! These can be interpreted as partner caregiver or platonic caregiver. I personally imagine Wesker being more of a parent-type caregiver, so that’s what I describe him as.

Reader (you) is referred to with neutral pronouns. This is for purely non-sexual, sfw age regression. DNI if you sexualize age regression.

Content warning: food, brief mention of discipline, lil sad when mentioning Wesker’s background

How Wesker finds out about agere

Albert notices you've been acting... childish. Some of the lunches you packed yourself for work have caught his eye; the little bags of fruit snacks, milk boxes, and Goldfish are far from your usual sophisticated grown-up food. You’ve been watching all of these colorful cartoons that are all so foreign to him.

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel warm. It brings him much needed peace to see you curled up in all your blankets, with the lights of the TV dancing over your face. But he needs to get to the bottom of… whatever it is you’re doing. It makes him feel feelings, and he just has to know what it is.

Albert is a man of science; the minute he discovers a concept that's new to him, he does a whole deep-dive on it. These behaviors are out of the norm for you, so of course he starts doing some research. He scrolls through forums, psychology articles, all sorts of things, until he ultimately comes to the conclusion that… you must be an age regressor!

So he prepares all sorts of articles on age regression and caregiving, eagerly awaiting your return home so that he can talk to you about it. He hates to admit it, but he’s really hoping you’ll allow him to take care of you when you’re small! You’re so very precious to him after all, and he loves to provide for his favorite people.

Once you get home, he sits down and enthusiastically explains what he thinks you’re doing. He’s also heard that regressors like to have caregivers, whether it be a sibling or a parent, or even a babysitter, to engage with while regressed, and that he’d be more than happy to be that for you.

You two talk it out, establish boundaries, and eventually, it’s decided that Albert can be your Papa when you’re small! He’s over the moon excited, and you are too!

Caregiving style

Despite his grumpy exterior, Albie is actually sugar sweet! But only to his little one, of course. Only you get to see him at his nicest.

He loves to spoil you with all sorts of presents. Gift giving is one of his love languages! So sometimes he’ll bring home new stuffies and toys for you to play with, just because he was feeling generous.

Albie thinks manners are important. He’ll get his precious angel anything they want as long as they say “please” and “thank you”!

He’s not a very strict Papa, but he’s not afraid to put you in a time-out for bratty behavior, if he deems it necessary. But it never is; he’ll just break out his stern voice and that’s as far as he has to go.

Weskie gets along with any age range, but he has a bit of a preference for younger kiddos, ‘cause he thinks they’re easier to keep an eye on. Little does he know, if a kiddo wants to get up to mischief, they will, no matter their age >:3 !

As far as nicknames go, his go-to is Papa, but he will use whatever his little one is comfortable with. He’ll even let you call him Albie (or even Weskie! He may not act like it, but he thinks that one’s super cute!)

I think he prefers more “classical” nicknames for his little one. Things like: angel, dearest, little one, prince/princess/princex, ray of sunshine, and who could forget dearheart!

He likes to make little schedules and activities for you to do during the day. It also helps him keep himself organized. He’s got the morning routine, breakfast time, lunchtime, nap time, and bedtime, with breaks for fun stuffs in between.

Secretly though, nap time is for him- he gets sleepy during the day, he needs a break! And what could be a better break than cuddling with his little one for a cat nap!

Wesker glances down at his watch. It reads exactly 15:00; nap time for his little one! Just in time, too, they’d been yawning and rubbing their eyes for a bit now. “Angel,” he calls, tilting his head down to see his precious one nuzzled into his chest. His mouth quirks into a soft smile. “I think it’s time for a rest, don’t you? Come lay down with Papa for a little while.” The kiddo doesn't stir, so he arranges them in his arms so that he can carry them to their room on his hip.

Oh, and he gives the bestest cuddles. He’s super clingy; he just loves having his baby in his arms, them murmuring all content and sleepy into his chest while he plays with their hair. He tries not to fall asleep, but… you know how that goes. He just can’t resist!

Caregiving just makes him feel safe and needed. It warms his heart to have you trust him so much, to be so vulnerable around him.

It's a big secret, but Albie will sometimes let you try on his sunglasses!

Albert watches his little one reach their hands up toward his face, not quite high enough to make contact, but enough. They squeeze their hands and whine quietly, looking up at him with those big puppy eyes. "What is it, sweet one? Use your words, please, or Papa won't know how to help." This time, they tap his sunglasses. He chuckles, a smile blooming upon his face. "Oh, would you like to borrow my glasses, dear? How cute. But first, what's the magic word?" The little one asks for Wesker's glasses politely. "Very good! You have such good manners, my little angel." He grants their wish, gracefully removing his sunglasses and placing them on his kiddo's face. He laughs with delight, for the first time in a long while, relishing how happy his little one looks now that they've got their Papa's glasses.

Favorite activities

Albie likes to listen to and watch you play pretend. He never really got the chance to do that when he was a kid. He'd look on at you and your toys with a wistful smile, but he'd be overwhelmingly happy for you. If he's not busy, he'll join your game!

Turning from his desk, Wesker lowers his sunglasses, sparing a look at his little one as they sit on the floor surrounded by stuffies. It's been a while, perhaps a break from his work couldn't hurt. He stands from his chair, approaching his baby and their toys. He picks up a stuffed animal and sits next to them, cross-legged. "What are you up to, my little angel? Having fun with your friends? Would you like to tell Papa about the little world you've made?"

Weskie also likes to cuddle and watch movies with you. He hasn't seen many kids movies, so while you may be watching your favorite movie for the hundredth time, Wesker is watching it for the first. He'll ask you questions about it too!

If you like to play video games, Wesker will happily sit with you while you play, helping you figure out puzzles and praising you when you beat bosses. If you like games like Animal Crossing, he'll even offer up some advice on decorations!

If you're a science kiddo, and even if you're not, he'll find all sorts of fun little "experiments" for you to do. And he's happy to explain the science behind why they work, too! He's a great teacher!

But his most favorite activity is reading you stories. He reads a lot of grown-up books, and he's happy to read you those, too, if you can handle them. But if not? He'll of course read you more traditional kid's books. He has such a nice, soothing voice, you could listen to him talk for hours!

That's all I got for now! I may or may not follow this up with a part two, but I am most definitely going to start work on a petre version! Thank you to @woofkie for the inspo and the help along the way! It is much appreciated, and I hope you like ^ - ^ !

And thank you for reading!

#resident evil agere #fandom agere #sfw caregiver #cg!albert wesker #age regression #caregiver headcanons #horror agere

[opuestocomplementario]

love in the air ep7 review

Context: I tried so hard not to spoil today's episode. Mission accomplished. I did not, in fact, get spoiled. So I watched it just now and I wanted to talk about it because obviously I had to. 

(I can finally scroll to every single social media that I own; that was literally killing me, i will never put myself through that again)

Let’s start with the MOST IMPORTANT THING: PrapaiSky

Prapai: my god this man is so freaking fine. Every scene was *chef’s kiss*. Can we acknowledge his voice? Oh my god Fort I didn’t know you could speak like that. Amazing honestly. I love it. The way that he smiles too, how can we resist? I am actually so excited to see him act as Prapai because Prapai is a fun character but also is supposed to be an adult and a “dangerous, professional, playboy” one which I normally hate in other shows because they always look like assholes, but Prapai/Fort looks like such a nice guy is actually insane how he can pull both looks. I love his way to getting Sky numer from Rain, like he knew those little shits where so eager to fuck and he did not care at all. Also, he canceling his meeting for that one moment is so amazing to me; that’s what a whipped man does

Sky. Babe, yes, you are the moment. I actually didn’t think he was going to be of my enjoyment because, again, like Prapai, these types of characters are playing in such an annoying way and are not fun after a while, but Sky/Peat has been delivering everything since we first saw him. So yes, I am also excited to see him more, and see more facets of this character, especially the horny one. YES, I WANT TO SEE A CHARACTER THAT’S SO GOOD IN BED THAT HE MADE A GROWN MAN CANCELED HIS WORKS MEETING JUST TO BE WITH HIM. I honestly love his relationship with Rain. Is so pure and amazing how they stand for each other and how Rain seeks comfort and help from him. 

That is something that I appreciate in this drama: the relationships aside from romantics. Friends and family are sometimes really hard to portray because it is hard to make a whole cast of people get well with each other, but they did. Idk if is the main or what, but everyone feels connected somehow, and they seem to get along well. Sky’s dad and Rain’s mom are so funny and cool, I wanted to see more of them. And Daddy Chai did his thing with that asshole but I will get to him later. 

Rain. If people could see how much I talk about him they can eventually figure out that he is my favorite character of the show so far. I just love how Nouel portrayed him, and how cute and funny he is on screen. I already talked about his development but seriously, what great writing. I really liked the scenes of him being kidnapped, even though they're hilarious and I couldn't take them seriously, Nouel has a thing for screaming, he does it well. 

Phayu. I can't get enough of him, he can do everything. I really like the way Boss portrays his character when he worries and he tries so hard not to do the things the asshole said to him. I feel like he can play more dramatic characters besides the “bad boy” if he keeps on this track. But overall I feel like he literally shines when he plays playful and flirty guys. He just does so well. He is so charismatic and makes everything fit together. The scene where he was with Rain’s friends was so good. Usually when seniors approach younger ones there is this air of awkwardness and discomfort because of the age gap, but here, it was like they were comfortable talking to him like you would with a cool adult. 

The relationship between Rain and Phayu is definitely one for the books. They had the chemistry that’s been missing for so long in other couples. They look so good together, they talk and act like a couple which I love to see. I like when the characters keep acting like they want to be together even after they get official. Like the spark is still there. I love the hornyness, i love the communication, the cuteness and the little kisses. 

I also thought that I would hate the fact that Phayu knew Rain and “broke” his car so he could fix him and therefore meet him, but keeping in mind that he is a mechanic and wasn’t any danger and most of his flirting was teasing, I can understand it. 

So, the whole kidnapping thing. It was fun, it was dramatic, it had fights, some talk and action. Overall, It did live up to the expectation. I feel like it was unnecessary of course keeping in mind that the plot was the romance and we already had a romance going on, but I think it is a way to connect the dark sides of the ilegal races with the story of Sky. So i don’t mind. Like, LITA it feels like a fanfic, but a wattpad one, so I don’t really care that it is not perfectly written. Sometimes we need trash stories in shows and we need to learn to accept them. But the actors did a good job portraying what they had to. Daddy Chai obviously stole the show, which I also think is understandable if he is an older actor and a more experienced one. I feel like giving dramatic scenes and very heavy ones to BossNouel will end up a lot like JaFirst where they were good, but not that good, and it felt a little fake. 

So overall, the episode was a lot to take, but in a good way. The action stuff was not overwhelming, and we had a lot of cute moments of the couple just talking about their feelings (which we all love because communication is our number one priority, always) and we got more scenes where Phayu and Prapai were together (if I don’t have more of them i swear i'm going to thailand to make them film more scenes idc) and WE GOT PRAPAISKY, separately, but we got them.

#love in the air #love in the air the series #prapaisky #phayurain #love in the air ep7 #i laughed way too hard at this #the first 20 min did it for me #the fruity siblings were fun too #i got prapai so idc about anything else #im falling sleep while writing it so will try better next time #everytime phayu and rain kissed i screamed they are too cute

[wincore]

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly. 

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that. 

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you. 

You shake it off. 

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer. 

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks. 

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

-

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates. 

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue. 

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile. 

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes. 

“Sungchan?!” 

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!” 

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face. 

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity. 

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.” 

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns. 

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on. 

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention. 

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys. 

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling. 

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love. 

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile. 

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation. 

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.  

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on. 

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones. 

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts. 

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you. 

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm. 

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes. 

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls. 

"Do you have any bandaids?" 

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.” 

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you. 

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind. 

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers. 

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans. 

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him. 

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade. 

-

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan. 

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead. 

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly. 

“Hm?” 

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that. 

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field. 

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding. 

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave. 

“You should,” he responds, honest. 

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile. 

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties. 

Only one more match, you remind yourself. 

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this. 

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all. 

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile. 

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. 

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

-

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you. 

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading. 

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care. 

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk. 

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild. 

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct x reader #sungchan x reader #nct fluff #sungchan fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios #nct x you #sungchan x you #nct sungchan #jung sungchan #nct oneshot #sungchan oneshot #nct fanfic #sungchan fanfic #moonwrites

[bakugohoex]

Can you do Jean x reader where they are both undercover at Marley 💕💕💕

part one: “this isn’t a date jean, we’re undercover”

paring: jean kirschtein x female reader

cw: season 4 spoiler but there is no manga spoiler at all, fluff, language 

word count: 2600+

a/n: i had to read so much for this fic, but i got the jist of it, again making sure you guys know there is no spoilers for the manga in here and onlt a season four spoiler do if you guys havent watched the latest episodes be warned

summary: in which you and jean are undercover doing reconnaissance in marley, want turns to investigating a local bar leads to feelings finally being brought out from the two of you

part two  | part three 

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist 

The dress you wore covered your thighs and knees, it hugged you, the soft material being a drastic change from your normal attire. It was a warm mid-day, birds chirped and the sound of Marleyans engulphed your ears. In the 6 years in which you had known Jean you hadn’t ever expect an undercover mission taking place in Marley of all places.

He walked with your hand in his own, you smiling softly as you spoke nonchalantly to one another. It was unamusing and more a distraction than anything else. He picked the newspaper up on the stall, paying quickly as he walked back, you followed which felt more like being dragged along by his strong grip.

The way the top of his fedora sat on his now long hair, he heard about the victory of the Marleyans from a passer-by and with his hand in your own he opened the newspaper up. It was reconnaissance, you and him both knew you were supposed to act like one of these people even if they did think of you both as devils.

“I think we should visit that bar that woman told us about, a lot of the men there get drunk and reveal a lot.”

He looked down at you, your hands still connected. He had grown so much in all these years now reaching over 6ft, his long hair and scattered hairs along his chin making gorgeous. He had become the leader both you and Marco knew he would become.

“They’ll all stare at you, why would I want that?” he mutters.

You laugh at his antics, “you’re such an idiot.”

“You’re the one holding my hand.”

“Jean it’s a mission we have to pretend to be together for the performance.”

He raised an eyebrow you had full view of his face; his eyes were tired from the late nights working on the next plan of action. But most importantly, the fact that the two of you had to share a bed. He couldn’t even touch you as your small frame would sometimes push against his chest.

You smiled at the boy getting him out of his trance before skimming through the newspaper again. “We’ll go tonight after the meeting.”

You nod as the two of you walk towards the docks of Liberio. Both you and Jean were in the internment zone, a nice old woman allowing you to stay on top of her shop. Even with her being nice her opinions on titans and those within the walls were a lot cruller than u had expected.

It had been awkward the first time sleeping beside each other, you both looked up. Not facing each other but instead watching as the clock ticked away until one of you fell asleep. You both woke up wrapped in each other’s arms, and an awkwardness had set between you two from that night. You both would try to face away from each other but one way in another you ended up touching each other in some way.

He helped you up the stairs to where the little shop was kept, you both had gained some currency mostly from stealing it, but you never expected to stay here long. Only to find information until the true invasion would begin. Of course, the others were already here in their own recon missions, but you and Jean had been the first ones and had found out the most about this stupid town.

The biggest thing being that they hated Eldians of any type. You both walked through the double doors the woman smiling at how pretty you both looked together.

You had a meeting with the rest of the survey corps, Hange leading it, you got changed into what you’d wear to the bar knowing it was going to be a long night.

Jean stood at the door watching at how you easily took the dress off. You both didn’t care about changing clothes in front of each other, you’d seen worse from each other and it meant nothing after the tortures of titans.

The short dress fitted you perfectly and as Jean eyed you up and down, he craved any touch by you. He had taken the blue tie off and the suit jacket and waistcoat off leaving him in the white button up and trousers.

You smiled at how his hair stuck to the back of his neck, when he had first started growing his hair out you had loved it seeing the boy turn into a man. You both had changed since your cadet days and as much as you missed it you couldn’t say that being an adult didn’t have its perks.

“You know Y/n, I’d definitely accept any date proposals from you.”

You rolled your eyes at him, he always tormented you with the flirting. “Jean you really are a pain in my ass.”

“Such vulgar words from a pretty woman.”

You wanted to stab him with your ODM gear but instead stuck with jabbing him with your knee into his stomach. Normally when he was a lot younger it hurt him easily, but he seemed unfazed by the action almost finding it cute.

“Why did u have to grow so much? Short Jean was better.”

“Are you saying 15-year-old me is better than now me?”

You think back at the boy, bringing your finger to your chin. “Both you and 15-year-old you are pains to be around.”

He moves his face to your ear you could feel the hairs brush against your cheek from his chin as he spoke, “it’s okay Y/n we both know how you really feel.”

Rolling your eyes, he grabbed your hand almost out of instinct, you both leaving the shop as quickly as you came. Turning the many corners that Hange had told you to take after each different meeting.

The amount of walks you both went on should be unnecessary but the people of Liberio barely batted an eyelash at the two on you.

The dress was low cut and having all these new clothes made your heart warm up. You hadn’t worn different clothes in years, always the same uniform which you grew to dislike.

“Hange really sent us on a fucking expedition.” You mutter as you lean against Jean’s side.

He leads the way walking towards an unknown battered up building. It looked like it was being constructed and you were met with the scouts.

They eyed you both up your outfits standing out. “running late per usual.” Levi mutters.

As much as you had grown on Captain Levi, he still had a discomfort towards most of you. Both Jean and you let go of hands with ease standing beside each other. Before the meeting begun mostly talking about what had occurred and most significantly the defeat of Marleyans against the Mid-East.

“You know what that means, sometime soon is our time to act.” You professed, the new knowledge coming as a relief as it would soon be time for your plan to truly occur.

Armin and Mikasa spoke, the whereabouts of Eren being unknown due to his consistent disappearances. Watching these people grow you truly understood the mutual torment you all felt. As you were all dismissed all you could think about was the consistent opposition you all faced.

“I think the bars down here.” Jean retakes your hand as you smiled at him.

“Once this is over what do you think will happen.” You ask him softly.

“I don’t know.”

“Remember when we first met, and you were adamant on becoming an MP.” He listened raising an eyebrow. “Look at you now Mr Commanding Officer.”

You were proud of your friend he had worked hard to achieve this status. “You really are proud of me aren’t yah.”

You rolled your eyes gently hitting his side. “I’m telling the truth I’m proud of you.”

You had been timid in your choice of words you were proud, and he knew you were proud of him. Walking into the bar, the significant smell of alcohol mixed with sweat made you grossed out.

It was a rule to not drink under the survey corps and you hadn’t really cared for drinking. So, the sight of so many drunk people drove you mad, how easily a night of drinking could lead to a failed future.

Jean pulled out a chair for you before going to the bar, “I’ll get your favourite.”

You nodded playing with your fingers trying to listen in on the conversations that were occurring. Many Marleyans chatting shit about the Eldians and most specifically those of paradise island.

Your fist clenched as Jean brought two drinks out. “What is it?” You question looking at the red drink in front of you.

“You told me you liken cranberry juice once, i got you some”.

Your eyes widened at the boy, “Jean i said that like years ago.”

“Shows you how much i do care about you.” You rolled your eyes sipping on the drink. You both conversed but remained consistent with your spying on individuals.

“Those guys are talking about you.” Jean coughed out sipping his drink.

“I should go up to them i might get some information.”

“Don’t.” You raise an eyebrow going up to his ear. “They might steal you away.”

“This isn’t a date Jean, we’re undercover.” The way you spoke his name made him melt, he wanted to hear more of your voice specifically moaning his name out.

You stood up ready to go speak to them before you heard something come from their mouths. “If i ever saw one of those island folks I’d slit their throats and make their kids watch.”

You felt sick to the stomach by the comment and wanted to leave. Jean hadn’t heard it and as you stood frozen, he called out your name.

“Let’s get u outside.” He whispers taking your hand as you silently followed. “Are you okay?”

You nod, “I guess it just hit me we’re hated here the way the act towards us is the way we used to act against titans.”

You felt his arms wrap around you. He knew you hadn’t spoken much about the comments and that now you hit the realisation you’d confide in him more.

“I want to go back to the shop.” He nods as a comfortable silence settled in.

You cling to his arm wrapping your hands around his own. He loved the way you cling onto him like he was your protector, and you were his queen.

Walking down a long alleyway, you see some Marley men smoking and drinking. They’d be easy targets if you wanted to kill them, hearing them speak and whistle as you both walked past. Before one of them grabbing your wrist made Jean’s instincts kick in.

He punched the guy who had touched you, his filthy hands still lingering close to your body. The way Jean with ease was able to put down the two men who looked bruised and battered.

He put his hand out for you to take, he didn’t speak. Just bringing you the comfort you needed from this whole new world experience. Everything was so much bigger outside the walls and you couldn’t ever imagine putting innocent people in walls to keep them trapped.

The events of the night led to an uncomfortable silence once you arrived back to little room on top of the shop. He stripped his shirt off due to the excessive dirt it had got on it. You admired his body, the way each muscle sat perfectly on his abdomen.

You sat on the bed fidgeting with your clothes, you played with the hem of the dress which Jean could see your upper thigh from you doing.“Do you want to talk more about it?”

“I just… i guess it’s the reality.” You muttered as Jean sat beside you his shirt off. Titans seemed less scary than any of these indoctrinated Marleyans any day.

In the years Jean had known you seeing you vulnerable and passive made his heart ache. He took you by the hand letting you attach yourself to his side.

You were scared about the upcoming invasion and even worse you didn’t even know who you’d be fighting. The uncertain of it all being too much.

He walked up to you, moving closer to your smaller frame. “You didn’t have to punch those guys, I...I would’ve said something.”

“Y/n, you’ve been silent all night, you expect me to believe that you would’ve done something.” He bends down his knees touching the ground as he kneeled in front of you. His hands moving to your own stopping you from playing with your dress anymore.

Bringing your hands up to his mouth he kissed it as you could see some bruises, you stroked your thumb against the bruises hopefully it would settle down with some ice later. “What you said back in the bar?” You start to speak but you really had nothing to say, “about not going to those men.”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt if you talked to them and…” He trailed off.

“And?” You question.

He looked up at your bright face filled with love and happiness something he hadn’t seen in a very long time. “And you bring joy, in a shitty world like this I guess you’re the only one who truly brings a smile on my face.”

“Jean when did you get so sappy.” You giggle at his flustered look.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.” The tone in your voice was begging him to take you.

He rolls his eyes, his tongue flicking against the inside of his mouth as he stood up looking at you. He was even taller than before. You were a mouse compared to his frame; he bent his back bringing his face closer towards yours before a hand was placed on your cheek.

He closed the gap between the two of you, making your back hit the bed. His other hand moved to your side as he was on kissing you whilst he was on top. Your back arched at the movements wanting to feel his body on your own, as you deepened the kiss. Your hands in his long hair pulling his body closer to your own, as you felt the hardness come from his trousers.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t its baby.” He spoke stoically a cocky grin plastered to his face.

You smirked as he let go of your lips, moving his mouth to your neck as he moved your dress down your body, with your collarbone and neck revealed for him. He left marks and sucked on spots making you moan his name loudly.

“I’d…I… would n…never.” The moans engulphed you, you craved him even more.

He had never expected to hear you moan his name, and the sound of it, with you underneath fuelled him even more to continue the act. You closed your eyes as he bit and sucked on your collar before licking the side of your neck. The saltiness it brought making him lick his lips before he went back to kissing you.

The kiss was deeper, quicker than it previously had been, you placed your hands on his exposed chest. The way a single touch from you sent shivers down his spine, “I’ve always like you, y’know.”

“I assumed so.” You giggled, his body was on top of you trapping you between his broad arms and shoulders. It was a sight and you loved it.

You brought yourself up leaning up with your elbows, your dress was half off you and the way he looked at you knew that what would happen tonight had been long awaited from many many years ago. 

proceed to part two here

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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@samusimp @alaina-rose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage​ @jennammaee​ @cathy8taffy @sugacious​ @moonlightaangel

#jean kirstein #jean aot #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein #jean kirschtein request #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you #jean kirstein x y/n #jean kirschtein x y/n #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x y/n #attack on titan fluff #aot #imagines #jean kirschtein fluff #jean kirstein fluff #bakugohoex #scenario #headcanon #attack on titan scenario #attack on titan jean kirschtein #shinjeki no kyojin #shinjeki no kyojin x reader

[brxceliiande]

MY ACADEMY AWARD [Fem!Reader x Joe Toye]

ACTRESS Y/N L/N ATTENDS THE ACADEMY AWARDS BUT CANT HELP BUT FEEL UNEASY, ESPECIALLY THE MONTH WHEN HER HUSBAND IS SUPPOSED TO BE HOME.

warnings : minimal swearing, some suggestive content

genre : fluff

word count : 2.2k+

note : so i usually don’t write things like this but the idea came to me last night and i thought it would be a cute one-shot/imagine

———————————

married life was not compatible with an acting dream.

reputation and power amongst hollywood’s most wealthy and fortunate celebrities was the source. if you had the reputation or the power, it could get you virtually anything and everything. except privacy.

y/n waved her hand to the hundred of people lining the streets of los angeles. it was that time of year where hollywood’s greatest actors, actresses, directors, and film producers got together. the academy awards. seventeenth. a time to celebrate performers and a person’s vision of storytelling. a waste of time, considering a war had ended.

pushing it away, the car came to a halt and marc, her manager, hopped out and opened the door for her. y/n put on her best smile, the “award-winning” smile as some call it, and exited the vehicle. flashing cameras and yelling caused her hands to clam. y/n silenting thanks for her gloves she wore with her satin dress, it was off the shoulder, dropped just below her knees and matched with a simple silver necklace.

“miss! miss! over here please miss!” multiple screams from the paparazzi calling out to her, y/n obliged with poses.

it wasn’t that she hated the job, it got annoying sometimes. she had no privacy, she was constantly told what to do, and had to deal with misogynistic people in the industry. yet, acting brought her a sense of productivity and accomplishment, all the years of acting schools and working at the bank, she had finally found something that made her rich and happy. in terms of money and fame. but as all human needs have, shes got someone making her feel beyond all that.

joe toye. a muscular, stubborn headed man who stole her heart on a simple night in pennsylvania. acting wasn’t totally useless, because of her job she got to meet interesting people, such as her husband, joe. It wasn't much compared to love stories, a bar after a long day of work and a soldier home for a few weeks. a classic soldier-civilian love story. after shooting a few scenes, steam needed to be let off. resulting in a search of good bars in the city, which just so happened to have caught the eye of joe toye also.

however, he wasn’t home yet. the war had ended a few months ago and troops started coming on ships three weeks ago. throughout the few years after that night in pennsylvania, discussions among discussions carried out about their lives and how it would be once he returns. it was letters full of hope and puppy love. wide eyed babies who saw each other but not the big picture, the war. with acting having her tied in ropes and joe having to fight in europe, they drifted apart. it tore her up, the feeling of losing someone so dear to her, not to death but to life.

y/n seemingly teleported to her seat in the hall. the room was huge and rounded with seats able to fit around five hundred. red drapes decorated the hall and the balconies reserved for special guests. a stage in front of the crowd, a mic standing alone on the stage, awaiting the host. more people piled into the room, greeting friends and foes as they passed by her down the aisles.

minutes later, the crowd had grown and the hall was filled. chatter clouded the atmosphere, nearly suffocating her. bouncing her leg, y/n couldn’t help but feel nervous, there was something different about this awards ceremony.

“ladies and gentlemen, i would like to welcome you to the seventeenth academy awards!” said bob hope, starting the awards as the host. “i am your host, bob hope, and we would love to thank everyone for coming out.”

hope’s voice drowned out as y/n stared off on a space on the stage. it was her fourth academy awards in her life and all the other times she felt fine, especially for the last two when joe was in europe. it nagged at her chest, the feeling of uncertainty and nervousness. her surroundings felt like slow motion. echoes of people clapping, laughing, and the music playing in the back when awards started being announced. it was a dream, or at least it felt like one.

“our nominees for best lead actress in film are gene tierney in ‘leave her to heaven’,” bob began listing the names off for best actresses.

many famous actresses names were announced, such as jennifer jones, ingrid bergman, and greer garson. all amazing films and great actresses who certainly all deserve the award.

“and lastly, y/n l/n in mildred pierce,” said bob hope, the crowd clapped as usual for the nominees, “now, i must say this must have been a tough decision for the viewers out there, we have five great films and actresses who all deserve this award. however, there will only be one. with that, the academy award for best lead actress in a film goes to…”

the crowd went silent and y/n could feel her throat begin to tighten in suspense. this feeling was nothing new, the excitement of being a potential candidate for an academy award was a huge honour. although she lost her previous ones, there was something different about this one and she couldn’t understand why. mildred pierce was one of the most fun she had on a film. the story was amazing, and all she hoped was that her emotion and acting portrayed her feelings for the film and how much she loved it.

“y/n l/n in mildred pierce!” said bob, the hall erupted into cheers and claps.

she did it. she won the award. y/n, aghast at the announcement, placed a hand over her mouth and got up from her chair, making her way down to the stage. composing herself as she walked up the stairs, she ran a hand over her hair and smiled at bob, who stood smiling at the microphone.

“congratulations y/n,” whispered bob and pulled her into a hug before holding out the award.

“thank you, bob,” said y/n, taking the award and standing in front of the microphone as bob went off to the side.

it went quiet. the hall was dark from her side, the lights darkening the crowd to an abyss. placing the award on the stand, she looked at it as she started to think of what to say. there was too much to say and so little time.

“wow…this is amazing! i cannot thank you enough for this award, for everyone that voted and also cheers to the other beautiful actresses nominated for this award!” everyone cheered, “uh, i would like to thank the academy for this award, my parents for putting me through acting school, the directors, producers and my co-stars for making mildred pierce the best film experience of my career yet! and lastly, i’d like to thank my husband, joe, for supporting me through this journey for that last three years from across the ocean. i love you, honey!”

the crowd clapped and whooped as y/n nodded to bob to continue and she made her way for the stairs.

“ah, y/n, if you would like to stay here for a moment, we seem to have a surprise for you,” said bob, motioning her to come back to the microphone.

confused, y/n laughed and walked over to him.

wrapping an arm around her shoulder, bob smiled out into the crowd and leaned into the microphone.

“may we, as the academy awards, present a special guest,” started bob, squeezing her shoulder slightly, “fresh off the ship from england, your husband, mr. joe toye!”

light from the stage spotted in the crowd, joe, standing up with support from crutches. y/n stopped. his letters ended a few weeks ago and all she got was a letter saying that he was injured in battle, nothing else was reported. but there he was, happy as he could be. turning to bob, she passed him the award before lifting her dress slightly and running down the stairs to her husband.

laughter and cheers filled the room as she made her way up to him. she could hardly contain herself, she didn’t know if she wanted to cry, scream, or kiss him. no letters, only some stupid report making her think the worst. joe stood there, a smile present on his lips and crutches supporting his weight on his one leg.

holding out his arms as best as he could, y/n found herself engulfed with the musky smell of cigars and sweat, but she didn’t care. her husband was alive and mostly well. there it was again, the dream feeling making everything woosy and swirly. she was in his arms again and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“great job doll,” muttered joe into her ear, “i knew you could do it,”

“i have you to thank for this, you made this happen, you supported me through everything, even when you were getting shot at.” said y/n, smiling at him.

“well, whoever helped you with the award, it was all you and for that,” said joe, pulling her close with one of his arms, “you deserve another award.”

joe pressed his lips against hers and she melted into it. one year since their last kiss and she wanted nothing more. it was a simple pleasure she dreamed of every night before bed, every morning when she made coffee and everytime she attended a party. and with the war over, she can finally have it.

pulling back, she smiled, “we should probably sit down, don’t want to keep the awards waiting.” joe nodded and made his way over to her seat, which had an empty spot beside it, while y/n went to retrieve the award.

bob smiled at her and pulled her into another hug, which she returned. showing off the award while making her way down the stairs, she hurried back to her seat and sat down with a huff, turning to joe. he leaned on the handle between their chairs and smiled at her.

“what do you say, after these awards or something, i give you another award?” whispered joe, smirking.

blushing at the thought of home and joe, she slapped his shoulder. “settle down soldier, you’ll earn your medal soon enough.”

joe shook his head with a smile and brought her face to his, kissing her once again. it was more tender and needy, a kiss waiting to happen months before. her body tingled as his hand caressed her cheek, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling things. it still shocked her that joe was in front of her, alive and well. missing a leg, but that didn’t matter, it didn’t matter what limb he lost as long as he could still remember her.

“i’ve missed you,” said joe, caressing her cheek, “and sorry about the letters, they didn’t allow me to write in there for whatever reason.”

y/n nodded and looked down at his leg, it was amputated from the knee. it sparked some questions, but knowing the horrors of war, she kept her tongue. she saw her father live with world war one, she promised herself she wouldn’t marry a soldier, but there he was, dressed in his best uniform and trying to understand the awards that were being presented. occasionally he would mutter something to her, about movies, actors, or directors, saying y/n should’ve won, despite not being nominated.

soon enough, the awards were over and bob ended the event with his signature goodbye. it was finally over and joe couldn’t wait to get out of there. he picked up his crutches and waited for y/n to get her stuff. as soon as she did, they both made their way out of the building, the los angeles sun setting on the streets of hollywood.

a black car came around and marc opened the door for both of them to get in. once the door shut, joe grabbed her hand and held it. her makeshift ring sitting on her ring finger made him smile. y/n felt her throat tighten, this time more in happiness than excitement. tears welled in her eyes as she placed her other hand on top of his. her husband was finally home.

joe lifted her hand to his lips and pecked it softly. there was no need for words, they could sit in silence forever and always know their love for each other. y/n smiled through her falling tears and chuckled as joe wiped them away.

“it’s alright doll,” said joe, bringing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his chest. “i’m alright, you’re alright, were both alright. okay?”

“i just missed you so much and when the report of your leg-“ said y/n, but her sobs stopped her.

“shh, it’s okay. i’m right here now, alright superstar? you don’t have to worry about that report anymore.”

“but what about-“

“dont worry doll, just because i lost a leg, doesn’t mean i cant do what i do.” joe smirked at her.

y/n wiped her tears away with a growing smile at his attempts at jokes. no one could stay sad or mad at the flirtatious man named joe toye, even if he lost a leg. the more she thought about it, she wanted to slap joe’s shoulder for making an inappropriate joke while in the presence of others, but couldn’t bring herself as she too, found it hilarious.

“so about that medal-“

“in your dreams, sergeant”

#war imagines #hbo war #joe toye #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers #joye toye x reader #joe toye x female reader #post war au

[babymetaldoll]

I just want you (Chip Taylor / Reader)

Requested: Yes

Word counting: 3.5K

Summary: What would it be like to be married to Chip Taylor? Would it include a lot of women trying to hit on him?

Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of 68 Kill.

A/N: Hello, beautiful people! sorry, I've been a little absent here, but writing my series has taken most of my time! Also, I feel a little blocked, and my personal life has been a mess. But, here it is: my first Chip Taylor fic. Have you guys seen 68 Kill? I love that movie, and I love Chip so much. He deserves the world. I hope you guys like this little story!

Masterlist

---

It wasn’t like I didn’t know my husband was handsome, ‘cos you had to be blind not to see his face was made by the gods, and all of his features were simply perfect. I just didn’t know every woman would flirt with him everywhere we were all the time.

And they weren’t even subtle about it. No. They made it very obvious when they looked at Chip each time they stopped by his work. They wanted him.

After all those years together, a part of me had made peace with that. I couldn’t stop them. He was hot, he didn’t want their attention, but he wasn’t rude or anything like it. Chip Taylor was a very polite man who was also very blind to the attention his looks gave him.

Chip owned a small pet sitting business that had started to really take off in the last few months. He had some savings that he used to buy a house when we first started dating. He lived there until we got married, and then we bought a bigger place outside the town. That’s when he decided to turn his old home into his own pet sitting business. And it was a hit. Chip is fantastic with animals. He is great with everybody, but pets just… melt with him. I think they can see the kindness of his soul.

Chip Taylor deserves the best things in life ‘cos he is the best man I’ve ever met. I’ve loved him since the day it took him almost half an hour to walk over and talk to me in the bar we met.

- “Every time a pretty face pops up, my brain turns into a potato- he explained, flustered ‘cos he kept stuttering as he asked for my number.

He was too sweet. Too cute. And he loved me. He had a ring that said so. But again, that didn’t stop most women who met him from flirting with him.

- “Here he is. Little Rascal had a great day today”- Chip walked to the front yard with a french bulldog, who kept barking, trying to get an extra treat from him. I smiled from a safe distance, reading a book sitting on a porch while Chip met with the dog owner. And she was as excited as Rascal was.

- “Hi baby! Did you have a good day today?”- the lady held the leash and caressed her dog’s head a few times before returning her attention fully to my husband.

- “Thank you for taking care of him.”

- “You are very welcome, Kim. It’s my job.”

- “No, it’s more than that. Rascal hates strangers, and he has been an angel with you since day one. I tell you, Chip, you are someone special.”

I know my husband blushed, ‘cos he is terrible with compliments. So he just shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. His shirt raised, showing his very toned midsection. And I swear, I had to force myself to stay put on that chair, ‘cos the way that woman looked at my husband was enough to make my blood boil. I wanted to run over and push her away from him. I wished I could tell her to get her dog and get the fuck out of our property.

But no. I didn’t. Instead, I tried to keep on reading, which was honestly impossible. But at least I didn’t move from my chair. I just stared at that scene, trying to control the urges of smashing that woman’s head against her car.

- “So, do you have plans for the weekend?”- the woman asked him, smiling flirtatiously

- “Not really.”- not the smartest answer, I’ll give you that.

- “Great! that means you can’t say no! I am having a small get-together at my place this Friday. You should totally come.”

- “Thank you, Kim, but...”

- “I’ll text you my address. I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Chip was awkward, he felt pushed to say he’d go, but I knew he didn’t want to. If he did, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Besides, he wouldn’t usually make plans without asking me first. A part of me wanted to run and help him out of that awkward situation, but I knew he had to do it on his own. Yes, he was a grown-up, but after knowing everything he had gone through before we met, a big part of me wanted to take care of him constantly. I didn’t want anything wrong ever to happen to Chip. He didn’t deserve anything bad.

- “Thanks, Kim, really, but… I think I should ask my wife first”- he whispered and smiled kindly at the woman, who didn’t hide the disappointment from her face. I have the feeling she never actually saw the ring on my husband’s finger.

- “Wife? I had no idea you were married, Chip”- he chuckled and nodded as the woman tried to act normal again. But she couldn’t.

- “Yes, I’ve been married for the last ten months.”

- “Just ten months? Well, she is a lucky woman…”

- “Thank you”- Chip petted Rascal’s head and added- “But I am sure I am the lucky one to have her. I still can’t believe she actually married me.”

- “Come on, Chip! Any woman would be happy with a man like you.”

And that was when that woman crossed the line and rubbed my husband’s arm for longer than necessary. He froze and looked at her, not knowing how to get out of that situation. Chip is a sweet soul who still has some significant issues when it comes to setting boundaries.

I jumped from my chair and walked over quickly, with a big smile on my face. The woman turned to me and raised an eyebrow, clearly not knowing who I was.

- “Hello, sorry to interrupt you, boo, but it’s getting late for our date.”

We didn’t have a date that night. But well, now we did.

Chip frowned, confused, and waited for me to explain a little more what I was saying. But, instead, I just smiled and held his hand, making sure that the woman’s hand was as far from him as possible.

- “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N), Chip’s wife.”- I said and waved.

- “Kimberly, nice to meet you.”

- “So you are Rascal’s mom. He is a sweetheart”- I kneeled and petted Rascal’s head behind his ears, right where I knew he liked it. Kim just nodded and smiled.

- “Ok, we should go, it’s getting late. Bye Chip”- she waved quickly, walking to her car. My husband said goodbye and wrapped an arm around my waist as I stood by his side and rested my head on his shoulder.

- “We are not going to her “little get-together,” by the way”- I whispered, and he chuckled.

- “Good, ’cause I didn’t want to go either. I actually had plans for the weekend, but I didn’t want to discuss them with her.”- I looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and felt his big hands caressing the lower part of my back.

- “Which plans?”

- “I’m planning to stay in bed with my wife the whole weekend, watch movies, kiss her a lot, and maybe asking for pizza.”

- “You had me at ˝stay in bed,” Chip Taylor”- I giggled and kissed his cheek- “She was flirting with you, by the way.”

- “I don’t care if she tried to flirt. I only have eyes for you, moonbeam”- I chuckled at the cheesy nickname and felt his lips on mine. They felt warm and soft and filled with love.

But it wasn’t always so easy to shake off the thoughts of a woman flirting with Chip. Unfortunately, sometimes it was harder to remain calm. Some women were more aggressive with their flirting. Some were actually way hotter than me, and sometimes that makes you doubt yourself.

I didn’t know Liza or Violet, so I never knew if they were prettier, more intelligent, or sexier than me. I couldn’t compare or compete with them either, ‘cos they were dead. But some random women made my life a little more challenging from time to time.

- “Chip? Chip Taylor?”- a soft woman’s voice interrupted our conversation and forced my husband to turn around, feeling now also her hand on his shoulder. We were at our favorite bar, having a drink, celebrating the end of the week and another successful month of Chip’s small business. We were chatting about our days, sitting at our usual table, when interrupted.

- “Anna Davis? Hi! How are you?! Long time no see!”- my husband stood up and hugged the stranger like long-lost friends reunited. I had never heard of any “Anna” before. I was trying to remember if I did.

- “I haven’t seen you in ages! What are you doing here?”- Anna said and laughed- “I can’t believe it’s really you!”- and so, they hugged again.

- “Hi”- I waved from the table and smiled at the two of them as they moved apart.

- “I’m so sorry, babe. (Y/N), this is Anna, my neighbor when I was in middle school. Anna, this is (Y/N), my wife.”

- “Hi, nice to meet you”- she shook my hand and smiled at me for a second, and then turned to my husband again and continued catching up.

Chip looked happy and excited to see her. He didn’t have many friends, he still didn’t know how to trust most people, probably why he decided to work with animals instead. He had a good relationship with Jim, the boy who helped him clean, and with a few classmates from the community college. But that was it.

- “I can’t believe you are here!”- Chip was beaming- “Are you with someone?”

- “My friends were leaving. I’m visiting one of my best friends, who moved here a few years ago. But she has to work tomorrow morning, so she wanted to go home.”

- “Do you wanna sit with us for a while?”- Chip asked her and turned to me smiling. Of course, I couldn’t say no. Well, he didn’t actually ask; he just looked at me, and I moved my chair to make room for one more on the table.

- “I would love to! Thank you!.”

I loved the idea of meeting Anna, at first. I didn’t know many people from my husband’s past, basically just his parents. The fact she was his friend growing up sounded amazing, and it meant I could finally talk with someone who knew him when he was a kid and could tell me more stories about my husband.

But Anna had other plans. My husband blinded Anna. She basically ignored me, and he was so excited to see her and talk to her, he didn’t even notice I was being left out of the whole conversation.

At first, it was ok. Chip wanted to catch up with Anna, know what she was doing with her life, and all that. So he asked for her parents and family. Apparently, they were pretty close growing up.

- “Remember each Friday we had a secret sleepover?”- she asked and laughed. My husband nodded and sipped his drink.

- “Yeah! I would sneak into your house and watch a movie.”

- “You know, my parents knew you were coming to hang out after curfew. They just didn’t think it was wrong”- she added and laughed- “I’m just glad they didn’t know about the day we tried smoking for the first time!”

Chip burst into laughter, and so did Anna. I just stared at them and sighed. Neither of them explained the story. They were just too caught up in each other to even notice I was there.

Yes, I was feeling jealous of Chip’s long-lost childhood friend. I knew it made no sense, but somehow, he completely forgot I existed when she was there. Yes, it was probably ‘cos he was surprised to bump into her at a bar on a random night after so many years.

But the more I looked at her, the more I realized she was gorgeous. She had long legs, beautiful golden hair, green eyes. The girl could go to a freaking beauty pageant and win it. Besides, Anna wasn’t acting friendly, if you ask me. She kept rubbing my husband’s arm, repeating how excited she was to see him, and saying over and over again how good he looked… it was a little too much.

- “I tell you, Chip, you haven’t changed a bit!”- Anna smiled and looked into his chocolate eyes, and I swear she nearly sighed. I couldn’t blame her. He is dreamy. But he is my husband, and it felt wrong.

- “Neither have you,”- he added and turned to me for a second. I looked kindly into his eyes, knowing he was happy, and that was enough to make me feel happy too.

- “Can I get you another drink, moonbeam?”- he asked me and stood up.

- “Yes, penguin, please”- Chip nodded and blushed as I called him by his favorite nickname and then turned to Anna.

- “Another?”

- “Sure!”

And suddenly, we were on our own.

- “So, how long have you been married?”- Anna asked me and looked at me innocently.

- “A little over ten months.”

- “Just married! Congratulations. You must still be living the honeymoon!”

- “Yes, we are.”- I giggled and turned to look at Chip, waiting for our drink at the bar. It wasn’t hard being stuck at the honeymoon phase with him. Every day, he made every day feel like the first day we were together, even after three years of dating and ten months married.

- “We used to date when we were kids,”- Anna simply said and chuckled - “It was very childish, but I was his first kiss.”

- “Really?”- I smiled at her, making my best not to look jealous at all. “That’s so cute!”

- “He is adorable. He was the sweetest boy growing up.”- Anna added and kept her eyes on Chip. But for a few seconds, I could see the longing in them, and my struggle not to show how jealous I was got a little harder.

- “So when was the last time you saw Chip?”- I asked and kept my eyes on her, reading her expressions. It took her a few extra seconds to stop staring at him to turn and look at me.

- “When I moved out of town when I was fifteen.”- she sighed and chuckled- “Seems it was a lifetime ago.”

- “Ok, here are your drinks,”- Chip appeared and smiled- “Plus, I ordered some more nachos, ‘cos I’m getting hungry.”- I chuckled and held his hand upon the table, playing with his fingers between mine. Chip looked at me and opened his mouth to say something when Anna interrupted him.

- “Remember that summer you broke your arm ‘cos you fell from the tree in Shawn’s backyard?”

And my husband laughed, forgetting what he was going to tell me.

I stood in front of the mirror and tried to fix my makeup. I looked tired. I was tired. It was Friday night, and I wasn’t twenty-three anymore. I was weary, and all I could think of was getting into my bed with my husband and getting good twelve-hour sleep.

But he and Anna were still talking and having a blast together, remembering the good old times. Now, if you ask me, I had the feeling Anna wanted to do more than just talking to my husband, but he was oblivious to any of her intentions. That was until I walked out of the bathroom and saw Anna’s arm wrapped around Chip as they were dancing.

She was dancing with my husband, and he was laughing. Ok, that hurt. It hurt a lot.

I sat at our table and drank what was left of my drink. I stared at them for a moment and evaluated my options. I could storm out of that place, maybe make a scene and yell. But no, I trusted my husband. I knew he wasn’t trying to hurt me or even cheat on me with her. No. He was naive and a little awkward. But by the way Anna’s hands moved on his body, clearly, she wasn’t naive at all.

- “Oh! I’m sorry!”- Anna said laughing when they reached back our table- “I just asked Chip to dance with me ‘cos I love that song.”

- “That’s ok”- I smiled at her and held my husband’s hand tight upon the table.

- “But Chip is such a great dancer! He really knows how to move!”- Anna was asking for it. She wanted to be smacked. But I behaved.

- “He really does,”- I answered and smiled

- “I hope you are not jealous!”- I turned to her and frowned, pretending to be confused

- “Of course not! Why would I?”

- “I don’t know! It’s just that… he was mine way before he was yours and…”

- “He isn’t mine”- I cut her off, and for once, my voice stopped being nice and friendly- “And he is definitely not yours. He is not a dog, Anna, he is a person, and the only owner of his soul is himself.”

Anna stared at me in silence, and Chip wide opened his eyes, surprised by my tone of voice.

- “What I’m trying to say is that… I met him when…”

- “I know what you are trying to imply Anna, you’ve been trying to do it ever since you sat at our table. You feel like you need to prove something, but you don’t. Really.”

Chip held my hand tight and kissed it sweetly. He didn’t say anything to me. He just looked at me with apologetic eyes as I cut him a short smile.

- “Ok, I think I better go now”- Anna stood up and just waved- “It was great seeing you again, Chip.”

My husband smiled and waved as Anna walked away. Then, when he was sure she had left the place, he turned to me. I sipped what was left of my drink and sighed.

- “Sorry if I was rude”- my words were a whisper only Chip could hear.

- “No, moonbeam. You weren’t rude at all. I’m sorry.”

- “Chip Taylor, you didn’t do anything wrong”- I leaned and kissed his lips softly, cupping his face with both hands.

- “I feel like I did.”

- “No, boo, really. She was… clearly trying to get under your belt.”

- “I shouldn’t have danced with her, but she pushed me...”- Chip excused himself and kissed my hand again, as I still held his face and caressed her cheeks with my thumbs.

- “Yeah, you should work on that “No” thing a little harder,”- I whispered and chuckled.

- “Sorry if she made you feel jealous. I had a huge crush on her when we were kids.”

- “She said she was your first kiss”- Chip opened my mouth, but no word came from it for a few seconds.

- “Funny, I told her that just ‘cos she said I was her first kiss, but actually my first kiss was with her cousin Alice.”

I couldn’t hold back the laughter as Chip looked at me with guilty eyes as if that was the biggest secret he had about his past.

- “Well, I bet if I run, I can still catch her!! I need to tell her the news!!”- I said and stood up, just to feel Chip’s arms around me, protectively.

- “Let her think that. We all know who all my kisses belong to now.”

Chip held me tight and close to him as his lips rubbed mine slowly. I felt my head spin as his tongue slowly touched mine, deepening the kiss. I couldn’t help but moan at the sensation of Chip’s sweet and passionate kiss. He made sure to make me feel how much he loved him every time he kissed me. In a weird way, Chip’s kisses always felt like our first and last. I think he was always trying to show me his feelings, ‘cos his previous trauma taught him he didn’t know when a kiss could be the last.

- “I love you so much, Mrs. Taylor,”- he whispered, and the title made my knees feel weak- “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

- “I love you more, Mr. Taylor,”- I replied and kissed his lips sweetly one more time- “And just between you and me, I am completely yours.”- I confessed and giggled nervously.

- “I am yours too, moonbeam. You own my heart, and I only want you.”- he whispered and kissed me one more time.

- “You just want me?”- I repeated, and he nodded, looking into my eyes filled with love- “Of all those women who wanna do you, you just want me?”

- “Which women?”- he asked me, clearly confused

- “A lot of women out there keep giving you the fuck eyes.”

- “What?! No way”

- “Do you think Kim invited you to her house for a small get-together? She wanted to get under your belt, penguin.”

- “But I am your penguin, that means I am not looking for any other woman. I just want you.”

- “Just me,”- I repeated again, and he nodded.

- “Just you, Mrs. Taylor”- I sighed, pleased, and closed my eyes for a second “Wanna go home?”

- “You still have to dance with me,”- I pouted, and he held my hand.

- “Whatever my wife wants.”

--

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561 @all-tings-diego

#Chip Taylor #Matthew Gray Gubler #68 kill #chip taylor x reader #chip taylor x fem!reader #Matthew Gray Gubler Fluff #fluff #matthew Gray Gubler fanfiction #fanfiction #68 kill fanfiction #babymetaldoll writes

[stutterfly]

Tricks of the Trade | MYG (M)

Shared as part of the Similarly Sequestered game with @kpopfanfictrash​, @underthejoon​, @fortunexkookie​, @gukslut​ and me!

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 24.1K Prompt: “The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences.” {Body Swap AU, Soulmates AU}

Genre: Fluff, humor, smut, oneshot

Summary: The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

CW & Other Tags: Anxiety attacks, language, oral sex, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, Agent of Chaos Jin, shopkeeper Yoongi, idiots to lovers, frenemies to lovers, bodyswap shenanigans

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader

Posted on June 23, 2020 by stutterfly and cross-posted to Ao3. I do not allow reposting, translations, or edits, to this or any other platform, including YouTube.

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The bell at the top of the door jingles as another customer walks into the store, but you pay them no mind. You’re already scanning the refrigerated drinks section for the third time, scouring the rows of cans and bottles for your beverage of choice. There’s only one kind of energy drink you want but its usual location is barren. Desperate to find what you’re searching for, you squat down to look behind the other drinks in the fridge.

“You’re not going to find any.”

The familiar, disinterested drawl of the shopkeeper has you popping up from the floor to look over at him. He wears a green apron over a black tee and a pair of faded jeans. His back is to you so he doesn’t have to see your face when you complain. He reaches up to take off his baseball cap and runs his fingers through thick locks of ebony hair before returning the cap to his head. He spares a glance over his shoulder at you, knowing you’re watching him. He sighs loudly as he continues to stock nearby shelves with boxes of cereal.

When he opened this tiny shop across from your apartment about a year ago, you thought he was cute, but he’s always seemed cold to you. The gossips around town say he’s a bit scrawny, monotone and boorish, but you like his voice and you like his style. He must be intelligent if he started this business from nothing, especially at his age. Not many people in their late twenties can say they are as independent as Yoongi.

He has confidence and pride in his values. You’ve seen him tell rude people off without a second thought and kick people out for being racist towards other customers. He puts on a front to seem unapproachable but you’ve seen him give a carton of milk to a mother who didn’t have money to pay for it, and free candy to a group of kids on a rainy day. While he pretends to be an old grump who shuffles around his shop all day, you’ve seen him get the energy to sprint around the block after a shift and then collapse at the cafe tables next door. He’s weird. He’s honest. He’s kind-hearted. It’s easy to admire him.

He bends down to pick up more boxes, and you cock your head to the side to stare at the way his ass looks in those jeans. He’s also insanely attractive. It’s no wonder you still come in here every day.

The more you see of him, the more you feel you know him, and the more you’ve grown to like him. The problem is that your relationship with the shopkeeper has shifted into a weird territory you’re not sure how to escape from. It’s not that you hate each other, but it seems you can’t hold a conversation without getting on each other’s nerves. Either you’re always saying the wrong thing or he’s pressing all the wrong buttons when he teases you.

At first you read his teasing as awkward flirting but for someone so blunt, you’ve convinced yourself he would have been straightforward and said the words out loud. I like you. Let’s get a drink. It would be easy for him to say, wouldn’t it? Despite trying to convince yourself he’s not interested, you can’t help but flirt with him at any opportunity to do so. However, you seem to forget how the moment he looks at you. It’s like your flirting skills took an exit down a shitty highway and now you’ve lost the GPS signal to navigate back to civilization.

Talking with Yoongi has become an ache you can’t seem to give up so you’ll take whatever excuse you can to keep doing so. That usually takes the form of you poking fun at one another until you hurt your own feelings. Sometimes you spend the remainder of a day thinking about the ways you can fix tomorrow’s fictitious conversation. You forgot how being infatuated with someone can make you feel so stupid. He’s not your life, just a part that you wish could be more prominent. It’s fine.

All you have to do is get your morning beverage and pastry before working your shift. Then you can focus on how nice it will feel to do nothing all weekend and catch up on TV shows.

“So…. What did you do with it? Are you hiding them from me today?” You quickly snap your eyes to his face as he twists his body to look up at you.

He scoffs. “Not me. College kids came through last night and cleared them out.”

“But you know I always get one,” you pout, crossing your arms like it’s going to make a difference.

He turns his attention back to his task, slowly stacking the boxes in silence before he clicks his tongue. “So? I can’t just hide stuff for you, you know.”

“Don’t you have more in the back? You’ve never run out of Hot6 before.”

He laughs to himself. “This isn’t a warehouse. I have to wait for product to arrive before I can restock. Just get a Red Bull. It tastes the same.”

You crinkle your nose at him. “It does not.”

He crosses the store with a roll of his eyes and a loud sigh. Before long he’s back at the register and sipping on his iced americano. “Whatever. Why do you care? It’s easier if you develop a taste for espresso. Then you don’t have to worry about that kind of thing. Besides, energy drinks aren’t that great for you, you know.”

You make a sound of disgust as you sulk your way over to the pastry cabinet. “Jeez. Do you always have to have such a stick in your ass? You act like coffee is so much better for you.”

“More caffeine, less sugar. I guarantee you it’s better,” he says with a smack of his lips against his straw.

“Whatever, Grandpa. Hmm... Muffin, muffin, muffin…” you quietly chant to yourself as your eyes rake over the racks in search of your daily pastry fix. Today seems to be against you: no muffins.

“We’re out of those too,” he says. “You know you could stand to change up your routine. Don’t you get sick of getting the same things every day?”

You bite your lip and look over the case of pastries, grabbing a simple croissant. “I like my routine, but I guess I could always stop coming here.”

“If that’s what you want.” He sighs dramatically as he leans over the counter, resting on his elbows as he surveys the store. “Well, I could enjoy a quiet morning for once.”

You roll your eyes.“Pfft. You like to argue, so I know you’d miss me.”

There’s a squeaky laugh from behind one of the shelves and as your attention shifts to the sound, a young man with dusty pink hair pokes his head up. He must be rather tall if he’s able to look over the aisles. You quirk an eyebrow at his strange laughter and wonder what kind of stranger could be so entertained by the pair of you.

“Sorry. It’s just…” He holds up a card that neither of you can really make out at this distance. “On the front it says ‘It’s Your Birthday?’ and inside it says ‘Alpaca my party hat!’. Ha! And there’s this pop-up of the alpaca with a bandana and party hat.” He giggles again as he opens and closes the card a few times and waves his hand. “Sorry. Sorry. You can continue flirting now.”

“This is not—” Your breath catches in your throat and you have to take a moment to swallow down your embarrassment before turning back towards Yoongi. “Can you believe this guy?”

He’s in the middle of taking a bite from a half-eaten muffin when your eyes meet his guilty ones. Your jaw falls open as he slowly chews and rings you up, placing the remainder of the pastry back down on the counter.

“You took the last one?”

“I had a craving.” He shrugs.

“You knew I would want it and you took it so I couldn’t have it,” you guess in a playful tone. “Was your aim to make me suffer double today? You’re so cruel, Yoongi.”

He pauses to poke his tongue against his cheek as he handles your change. “It’s not like I planned it. Don’t make me out to be some bad guy.”

“Bad guy. Tch. No, I wouldn’t go that far.” You lean forward, planting your hands on the counter and ensuring a clear sightline into your shirt. “I think you just like getting under my skin.”

He bristles at your words, taking the bait and dropping his gaze to the lace exposed for his eyes. He licks his lips and lazily lets his eyes drift back to your face, his expression unreadable. “Maybe that’s true.”

You cock your head and smirk as you stand up straight, your ego slightly inflated. “Is it really so hard to be nice to me? I’m nice to you.”

“Hah!” He breaks into an amused grin. “When?”

You’re taken aback by his response. Surely you’ve been obvious with your infatuation up to this point. You scoff. “Wha- All the time!”

His brows furrow and he crosses his arms with the change still trapped in his palm. “So complaining is a form of politeness now? Then I should be grateful for how often you shower me with kindness.”

“You know I do more than complain! I complain because you complain to me!” you pout, pointing your finger at him. “Maybe we could talk about something meaningful if you ever cared enough to ask.”

His eyebrows raise with the pitch of your voice. It’s not a big deal. This is stupid. You’re overreacting because you like him. You know he’s fucking with you so why is your face still getting hot? Even if he’s joking, he’s planted the seed in your mind that he sees you as a grumpy customer. He’s clearly never thought of you as anything but a negative start to his day. You’ve seen him be sweet but right now he feels as bitter and cold as the coffee he drinks.

“What do you think of this?” the pink-haired stranger asks, donning a pair of thick black frames with orange-tinted lenses.

The man cuts the tension from the room for a brief moment. Yoongi stares at him, his lip curled up in disgust as he slowly shakes his head. When his eyes travel back to yours they seem full of apprehension. Your name rolls off his tongue as though it’s an apology.

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me. Just give me my change,” you grumble, reaching up for his palm.

His grip is impossible to penetrate. He smiles as you struggle to work your fingers beneath his, shaking his head like you’ve revealed some embarrassing secret. Heat builds in your face the longer you stand there fidgeting with his hand. You feel like a fool.

“You’re obnoxious. Let me count it out first,” Yoongi sneers while trying to pull his hand back.

“It’s fine.” You roll your eyes and yank his hand towards you. “I don’t need you to count it.”

“You know what I think you need?”

The other customer leans beside the counter, a new pair of glasses on his face that are twice as hideous as the first pair. As you turn to look at the stranger you can see the pair of you reflected in hues of red and yellow in those disturbingly 90s opaque lenses. It almost looks like you’re holding hands. You stiffen at the sight but keep your fingers locked against Yoongi’s calloused ones as you focus on the pricetag dangling across the man’s nose.

The stranger slowly moves a closed fist above the place where your hand and Yoongi’s meet. He waits a few seconds until you’re both focused on his hand before a flash of silver falls from his palm. You almost mistake the shapes for identical necklaces until they untangle and rotate to reveal two halves that form a heart.

The fluorescent lights of the store highlight the engraved text on each. One says ‘BEST’ while the other half reads ‘FRIENDS’. The faux-metal irritates your neck the moment you think about it touching your skin. The chains appear fragile and cheap, like they might break at the slightest amount of tension. If this guy thinks you’re going to take these he must be delusional.

You exchange a quizzical look with Yoongi as the necklaces dangle between you. He’s distracted enough that you’re able to pry your change from his sweaty palm.

“Uh. No thanks,” you say, shoving the coins in your pocket before grabbing your croissant. You take a moment to regard Yoongi with a scowl, cocking your head to the side. “See you, Grandpa.”

The stone in his gut sinks as he watches you leave but he forces his attention to the pink haired stranger in the obscenely reflective glasses.

“You know, I think she likes you,” he whispers with a wink.

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It’s been a long day but at least you don’t have to go out tomorrow. You’ve already changed into your favorite pair of comfy shorts but as you move to unbutton your work shirt something smacks against your chest. Did something get trapped in your cleavage?

“What the fuck?”

As you look down your stomach does a somersault. There’s a necklace draped around your neck with a half-broken heart pendant, etched with the word ‘BEST’. How did that guy sneak this ugly thing onto you? How did you not feel it until now? Maybe he’s some sort of street magician. Your shock is accompanied by a chuckle as you reach behind your neck to fidget with the clasp. Spinning the chain between your fingertips, you soon realize there isn’t one. This thing feels like a dollar store trinket, so you curl your fingers around the charm and pull down with all of your might. It remains secure around your neck no matter how hard you tug.

Your mind begins to break into a panic. What the fuck? What the fuck. What. The actual. Fuck.

You quickly throw on a pair of sneakers and nab the keys hanging near the door on your way out of the apartment. It's hard to believe the speed at which your feet carry you down the several flights of stairs. A couple scrambles out of the way as they watch your frenzied descent. Before long you're pressing the entirety of your body against the familiar door of the convenience store across the street.

The clerk looks up from his phone, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise as you stumble past the threshold. Your body nearly folds in half as you plant your hands on your knees and struggle to catch your breath.

"Are you alright?"

You force yourself to stand up straight to address the man standing behind the counter. The word is devoid of conviction as it leaves your mouth. "Yeah."

You know him as Tae, one of Yoongi's part-time employees. Yoongi offered him a job when he heard him say he was looking for work to supplement his endeavors to put himself through art school. You’ve seen him a lot, spoken a little here and there, and he even knows you by name now. If he's here, it's probable that his boss is not. You sigh loudly in an attempt to relieve some of the panic and frustration built up in your brain. It's not like you can just ask Tae to give you Yoongi’s number.

Tae’s wide-eyed stare indicates his concern for your well being but it’s not until he drags his gaze across your body and purses his lips that you feel something is amiss. It's at this point that you realize how much the air conditioner billows the fabric of your work shirt. Goosebumps form along your calves as all of the blood in your body rushes to your face. You quickly cross your arms over your chest to conceal the half-unbuttoned shirt and the bra that pokes out from beneath it. There’s little you can do to cover the expanse of your legs while wearing such form-fitting shorts.

“I was just… checking to see if you have any Hot6,” you say with barely a glance in the direction of the refrigerator section. “But it’s clear you’re still out.”

Tae raises his eyebrows and grants you a subtle, uncertain nod as your eyes settle on the door that reads ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’

“Is your boss here?” you blurt, reaching for the chain around your neck. “I’ve got a—”

Your stomach drops. It’s gone. Both of your hands instinctively smack at your collarbones, like frantically patting against your flesh will cause the necklace to reappear. You hold your shirt open wide enough to peer down at the skin of your chest with a concentrated gaze, eyes begging for any trace of the tacky piece of jewelry to resurface. Was it really just a figment of your imagination? You swear it was there. You felt it. You pulled on it. It had to be real.

You swallow hard and quickly bounce your eyes to the uncomfortable-looking cashier. All you can offer is a weak chuckle as you try to play it off by shaking out your shirt. “Sorry… I thought there was a bug."

There's an awkward, heavy silence between you as he nods with pursed lips. There's no way this poor guy believes your delusional ass. "Bossman's gone for tonight. Seemed kinda beat."

"Oh."

Your eyes settle on the countertop as your brain tries to rationalize what kind of unresolved issues at work are causing your mental breakdown. You stand there while spacing out, barely blinking. You can't believe you imagined that. Not knowing what to do, Tae walks his fingers towards the miniature cans of Red Bull stacked on the counter. He gracefully sweeps his hand around a can and offers it to you. That breaks you from your daze.

"It kinda tastes the same." He attempts to cut the tension with an endearingly awkward, close-mouthed smile. "My treat?"

If it were Yoongi saying such a thing you might scowl and tell him that he must be delusional if he thinks they're the same. Tae is a much kinder soul. You find yourself softening at his suggestion and shake your head.

"You know I should probably lay off the energy drinks now that I think about it," you say. "Have a good night, Tae."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" he calls after you as you wander back through the door. He leans over the counter. "Oh, hey wait! Do you want me to let bossman know you were looking for him?"

"It's fine!" you shout back on autopilot. You're already sinking into a pool of your own thoughts as the door closes behind you.

It was not fine.

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Sleep does not come easy despite your exhaustion. You find yourself tossing and turning all night. When the light begins to stream through your blinds it seems to strike at the perfect angle to blind your fluttering eyes. You pull the blankets up over your head even though you know it’s of no use; you’re already awake and there’s no going back to sleep now.

You stretch out with a yawn as you sleepily shuffle from the bed to the tiny bathroom around the corner of your room. It’s easy to apply toothpaste to your toothbrush on autopilot, taking a moment to rub your knuckles against an eye before glancing up towards the mirror. How bad is the bedhead today?

The sight that greets you causes you to drop your toothbrush in the sink and stumble back out of the doorway. Your fingers grip the frame to keep you on your feet, your attention quickly drawn to the thick digits situated there. As you force yourself forward, you support yourself with one hand on the counter and bring the other up for inspection. The foreign hand trembles as you turn it back and forth while trying to catch the breath that keeps running away from you. Anxiety sinks its teeth deeper into your lungs, causing a puncture that has you gasping for air.

Calluses adorn your fingertips, accompanied by scratches and scars from moments you've never experienced. Your nails are jagged and short, devoid of the pleasing pink color you applied to them two days ago. You dread the journey your eyes threaten to make towards the mirror once again but you find that you are unable to stop them. The face staring back at you with saucer-wide eyes is none other than Min Yoongi.

Your head feels light. This face is fake. You gasp for the air you can't seem to get enough of and stumble out of the bathroom. The walls seem to wobble in place as you race towards the living room where you can feel the breeze flowing through the window you left open last night. This world is fake. Nothing is real. Air will fix this. If you could just breathe like a normal person everything would be okay.

You fall to your knees within spitting distance of the window. For all the air your body greedily sucks inward, your mind feels bereft of any. Your vision goes dark.

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Yoongi does his best to make his way up the stairs with poise, but he's almost sure it looks like a waddle more than anything. His thighs --your thighs-- are chafing from the run here and each step is a painful reminder of the irritated flesh still rubbing together beneath these sweatpants. At least one of your neighbors was kind enough to let him into the main entrance. They must have recognized the face he mysteriously woke up with. Luckily your mailbox has your last name on it and as much as you might disagree he does pay attention when you talk.

He tries to wipe the sweat from his brow as he bends down to plant his hands on his knees. Even as his breath recovers, he grows increasingly frustrated with how heavy his chest feels. He repeatedly pushes the hair from his face with a groan, wishing he had taken the scissors to it when he had the opportunity earlier. He takes off the cap atop his head, runs his fingers through his hair, and places it back on his head. Everything is too much. You need to fix this. Take it back.

The faster he tries to ascend the stairs, the more he aches. He finally gives up on looking civil when he decides there's no one else in the stairwell to judge him. After all they'll only remember you anyway so what does it matter? He rolls the sweatpants up above his knees and cups the breasts hidden beneath the oversized sweater for support as he scrambles up the last few floors.

He grimaces at the dainty pink fingernails before curling his hand into a fist and rapping his knuckles against your door. He puffs his cheeks out and expels a long breath. What could you possibly be doing? You have to be in there. He tries the handle to no avail. Are you still asleep? He quickly abandons the need for subtlety and places both palms on the door and drums loudly against it. The sound of the deadbolt unlocking tells him he shouldn't hesitate. He's through the door before you can even properly get off your knees.

Somehow you knew what would be waiting for you on the other side. The sight before you has your mind reeling. That's your body, but it's not you. Could it really be Yoongi? You did not get Freaky-Friday'd with him. There's no fucking way this is reality. You can feel yourself panicking again as you back away from the figure, falling back on your ass. You watch yourself look down at you with a look of disgust.

"What are you doing?" That's definitely your voice.

Your body takes slow steps towards you as it crosses one arm over the other. You lean back on your elbows and groan. It's a deep sound, deeper than anything that's come from your throat even on your sickest day. This isn’t happening.

"Oh my god. I'm fucking dying," you murmur while tilting your head towards the ceiling. "Everything is fake. Nothing is real. I’m going crazy. Please let me rot."

The figure bends down and leans over into your field of vision. The image of your face frowns back at you and pokes you in the chest with a pointed fingernail.

“Stop that.”

“I can’t,” you whine between heavy breaths. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out again.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Those perfectly manicured hands reach out for your shoulders in comfort but you fall flat on your back and your arm flies up to cover your eyes.Tears sting at them as reality warbles around you again. Seeing your own face hovering above you definitely isn’t helping you feel more sane.

"I don't know what's happening," you sob.

With each breath you suck between your quivering lips, your chest aches. Suddenly that pair of hands is cupping your jaw and pushing your arm aside. You look into the eyes you are already so familiar with, but they seem far more caring than you’ve ever managed to display.

"We need to undo whatever is happening right now," he says calmly. "You don't have to like it. You don't have to tell me you're okay. But I need you to sit up and pull yourself together long enough to help me figure this out. Can you do that?"

You swallow hard and nod slowly as you take the hand offered to you. A half-smirk appears on his lips; it's strange to see yourself reflected with such warmth, especially knowing it's coming from Yoongi.

"Good. Now please go change. I can't look at those shorts anymore.”

You look down at your attire for the first time and realize how absurd Yoongi’s body looks in the clothing you wore to bed. The skimpy tank top clings to the muscular, flat chest you now possess. Worse still, you can see bits of flesh poking out against that hairy inner thigh below. You squeeze your eyes shut and pretend like you can forget what you just saw sticking out of your shorts.

You take a deep breath as your face burns with embarrassment. “Okay. Give me your pants.”

He stiffens at your demand and scoffs. “What?”

“I don’t have anything that will fit you— er, I mean, me. Us?” You gesture at your body and stare at the floor, trying to will yourself to not dissociate. “This. You can’t be comfortable either.”

There’s a sigh before he plops down on your couch with legs spread wide open. “My back hurts and my thighs rubbed together so much I don’t want to move anymore.”

You can’t help but laugh at the admission. At least he feels your pain. He looks up at you while reclining his head on the cushion behind him. You’re not hyperventilating anymore so distraction seems to be the key to keeping you relatively calm.

“Why you, of all people?” he wonders.

You roll your eyes and stomp across the room and disappear into your bedroom. “Hmph. I was about to ask you the same thing. This is bullshit.”

You come back with a handful of carefully selected clothes and strappy undergarments that you know for a fact flatter your shape. If he has to walk around in your skin the least he can do is make it look good. You pause halfway down the hall and swallow hard as it dawns on you that he’s going to have to get naked in order to change, which means he’s unavoidably going to be looking at your body without any barriers. You decide you’re going to be strong and you simply won’t think about it or acknowledge it as a possibility.

He’s busy chewing one of your nails when you reach the living room again. You hug the clothes close to your chest and storm across the room.

“Do you bite your nails?! Ew! God, no wonder yours are so jagged and gross,” you complain, thrusting the clothes into his lap.

He offers an apologetic look before glancing down at the attire you’ve supplied with raised eyebrows. He picks up the bra with one finger and grimaces at the way it dangles off his digit. He’s looking up at you with pleading eyes shortly after it falls back in his lap. It’s hard to avoid his gaze. You feel those pupils boring into your skull as you dart your eyes away to focus on the floor.

You clear your throat and muster every last bit of courage you possess. “Um… Your clothes, please?”

He inhales loudly through his nose and you watch the grey sweatpants pool around the toenails you just painted last night. You swallow hard and scramble to pick them up when they slide across the wooden floor to you. You clutch them to your chest, quickly catching the scent of your sweat and arousal on them. Maybe he hasn’t noticed? Trying to suppress the mortification growing in your chest, you purse your lips and trail your gaze back up to his face--your face. Thankfully the hoodie covers your sex and you’re hoping he hasn’t bothered taking a peek before coming here.

“Don’t… Don’t look,” you plead. So much for not acknowledging it.

He’s feeding his arm through one of the sleeves when he freezes in place and locks eyes with you. “I should tell you I woke up shirtless,” he mumbles. As if to lessen the blow of his admission, he continues with a pout, “But you can’t blame me for looking. It’s hard not to look at a pair of perfect tits that mysteriously appear in the middle of the night. What was I supposed to do?”

Perfect tits? You’d almost be flattered if it wasn’t so fucking morifying to know he’s already seen you. Your eyes screw shut and you nod. “Right.”

This is fine. This is absolutely fine.

“Hey,” he calls softly, prodding you to open your eyes. “Here.”

He keeps eye contact with you while feeding his other arm through the sleeve. Watching yourself strip without performing the act is bizarre. He holds the sweater out for you to slowly take. It eases your mind to see his gaze never wavered. Yours drops to the nude form before you and suddenly you’re criticizing every curve and flaw you can find. It’s as though you’re simply standing before a mirror and feeding your insecurity with needless scrutiny. Despite this, Yoongi remains focused on your face and the discomfort you display so openly at seeing your own form stripped bare. Almost bare. That beat-up baseball cap he wears every day now adorns your head like a crown for your mediocrity.

You spin on your heels and speedwalk down the hall. “I’ll be right back.”

It’s hard to ignore the new appendage you’ve acquired but you make sure to shut your eyes while peeling the shorts from your thighs and sliding the sweatpants up in their stead. While you rushed through the bottom half of your attire, you stop for a minute to inspect Yoongi’s bare pectorals. It’s all too easy to get lost in the sight of his body in the mirror. You subconsciously lick your lips and run your fingers across your flat, hard chest.

Your thumb circles a brown nipple and you watch with satisfaction as it grows hard at your touch. Your palms press down over your stomach, feeling the muscles hidden just below the surface of soft flesh. You grab at your hips, fingers threatening to dart below the band of your pants. Instead you suck air in through your nose and scold yourself for such weakness. You’re about to tug the sweater over your head when Yoongi silently enters and flops down on the bed face-first.

“Yoongi? Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?!” you shriek in your haste to cover up your own moment of weakness.

There’s a muffled response spoken into the mattress that you can’t quite understand.

"What?" Annoyance is a front for your embarrassment.

He turns his head to one side and sighs. "There are too many straps. Why did you pick such a difficult one?"

You definitely selected something with a lot of extra straps for a reason but you bite your lip and try to come up with an excuse that seems plausible. The truth is that you wanted to pick something sexy because you wanted him to see you as such. Does he care though? It's hard to tell. You decide the best excuse is to dismiss the question altogether.

"Stop being such a baby. I'll help you."

As he lifts his head to cringe in your direction, you're already out the door. He pounds his forehead against the mattress again and squeezes his eyes shut. There's clearly no logical explanation for this, so what is the next step to take? What should the pair of you do? Is this permanent? There has to be a way to undo whatever has happened. In order to figure that out he's trying to piece together the source of this predicament. No matter how hard he wracks his brain for answers to the puzzle, there still seems to be pieces missing.

"Get up. Come on," you huff, tugging at his arm.

The sound he makes is pitiful and whiny as he rises. It's easy enough to see where his arms are supposed to go when you've already bunched all of the material together. You step behind him and fiddle with the fit around the familiar mounds of flesh at his front. He instinctively looks down to watch how his own familiar fingers slide beneath the bra. He pries his eyes away just as quickly to find he has a much better view of the pair of you in the mirror.

There's a sight he'd never thought he'd see: both of you shirtless with his hands in your bra. It's not that he's never wanted it. It's just that he always seems to fuck it up when it comes to being social, with you in particular. Maybe it's because he likes you too much. There's never been a proper opportunity to make a move outside of work and he knows his flirting skills are abysmal. But looking at the reflection of the pair of you now fills him with equal amounts of desire and confidence.

Just as you’re about to clasp the first strap behind his neck you glance up and find yourself lost in the same reflection. An electric blush creeps up your spine and causes a tingle in your cheeks that makes you freeze like a deer caught in headlights. He hums a soft sound and makes the decision to reach back for your wrist. For a moment you’re not sure if you’re moving or if he is but you find yourself enjoying the sight of Yoongi’s thick fingers dipping below the fabric of your bra.

“Yoongi?” you ask, jaw hanging slack as the bra slips a bit further down.

“Do you feel that?” The voice is quiet as he lets you trace fingers along the soft skin. “It pinches there.”

That pinch is a familiar one but you always tell yourself that’s the price of beauty. The straps chafe. The underwire digs into your ribs. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s the sexiest-looking thing you own so comfort be damned. You watch it slide further down to reveal one of your nipples in the reflection of the mirror; it’s impossible to look away. So much for him not looking anymore. You can’t blame him because it’s impossible for you to take your eyes off it too. The sight of Yoongi’s thick fingers trailing along the side of your breast sends a surge of excitement through your veins.

Goosebumps form a path where your fingers have traced and Yoongi exhales a shaky breath. The sound makes you chew on your bottom lip in contemplation. Is he feeling just as turned on right now? You try to remind yourself that the mirror is a lie. He’s not touching you. You’re touching him, regardless of how it looks. You can’t let your feelings cloud your judgement. It’s so fucking hard to think straight now that you’re together like this, not just because he’s here in your room but because he’s experiencing the unique arousal of his body while trapped in yours.

“Being a girl sucks. What am I supposed to do about it?” Your fingers tremble as you force your eyes to meet his in the mirror.

The action does not go unnoticed. He smirks and quirks a brow but chooses to let it slide without commenting. “Give me something easy and comfy.”

“But—” You hesitate. Do you really need to argue about this? You can’t explain it without admitting your feelings towards him. It seems like an inopportune time, more so than usual. It’s better if you can just shut the fuck up for two seconds and work on the important task at hand: figuring out how to get back to normal.

He immediately fills the gap with an objection of his own. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” you say in the flattest tone you can muster.

He turns around to get a better read on your body language but you’re already rummaging through your drawers. You toss a sports bra with a front-facing zipper at him while you don the sweater and slip into the bathroom to relieve yourself. It’s best to avoid situations like that again if you can.

Yoongi takes this moment to inspect the room, crinkling his nose at the several empty cans of Hot6 stacked on top of your dresser. He brings a long manicured nail to his teeth and begins working it back and forth as he slides the folding closet door open with a finger. Much to his surprise your wardrobe is filled with t-shirts that look much more comfortable than the piece you previously selected. He’s quick to trade shirts and carefully replaces the clothing on the hanger before sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning back on his elbows. Comfy. Finally. His attention is drawn to the closed bathroom door. It’s been a while. Are you okay?

“You better not be passed out in there,” he whines, making sure to sound extra annoying for you.

The attempt to conceal the concern in his tone is successful but he’s happy you’re not able to see his worried expression. If you knew how badly he wants to freak out, you might actually start hyperventilating again. He’d like to avoid that. The door swings open and you exhale deeply. You’re not about to tell him you had to wait out the boner because then he’d probably make fun of you. He watches you take a few steps forward while wedging a nail between his teeth.

“Are you biting my fucking nails again?”

“Yup.”

You’re already scrambling across the bed and by the time he moves to shuffle backwards you have his wrists pinned against your soft comforter and you’re straddling his waist. Oh god. This is too fucking hot to be doing with him while he’s in your body. Abort. Abort!

It’s now that you note he’s wearing a soft cotton t-shirt you definitely did not pick out. “Yoongi, did you—”

“These clothes are better. Did you give me the most uncomfortable things you own just to make me suffer for stealing your muffin?”

Between the sports bra and the t-shirt he’s selected the curves of your body are lost to your eyes and your heart sinks. There goes any chance you had of him thinking your body is sexy. He’s expecting a tongue lashing but you sigh instead and release your hold on him, quickly climbing off his form before you can let your body get you into trouble. You search for the laptop that you know is hidden just beneath the covers near your pillows.

“Pfft. Look, maybe we can google what happened to us and not get Freaky Friday movie reviews. You wanna see if it works?”

He offers a half smirk in response and he’s quiet only for a second before he hums a sound of distaste. It’s an accusation and you know it. He quickly scoots back towards the pillows so he can sit beside you.

You scowl as you mistype your own password. “Ugh. What?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re so mad.”

“I’m not.”

You make sure to broadcast the fact that you’re definitely not mad by repeatedly tapping the delete key in a slow, deliberate motion.

“Why does your face look like that then?” he prods while folding his hands across his lap.

“Like what? You of all people should know that your face always looks this grumpy.”

As he rests his head against the fluffy material behind him, he lazily rolls his head towards you. “Y/N.”

You dramatically throw your head back against the pillows and mirror his stare. “Yoongi.”

“What is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble.

“It clearly does,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “We have to work together to figure this out, so some honesty might be nice.”

You open the laptop and stare at the password screen for a moment with a longing sigh. “Fine. I look gross in those,” you admit with a brief glance at his attire. “You’re making me look like an unsexy blob.”

He scoffs. “What? Is that all? You’re being ridiculous. These clothes don’t matter at all. We both know what you look like underneath them. Honestly, you could be wearing a trashbag and still be sexy.”

“To whom?” You want to laugh at how absurd his explanation sounds. “What kind of lunatic would think that?”

He blinks slowly and raises his eyebrows with a calculated clench of his jaw. “Me. For starters.”

He’s stiff as he purses his lips and crosses his arms. He stares at the login screen, waiting for you to type your password. “And any sane man or woman with a pair of eyes and a brain.”

Your mouth falls open in disbelief mid-stroke. Was that a confession? Your head might as well be full of helium with how high you’re feeling. This has to be a dream. If the insane concept of switching bodies with Yoongi isn’t enough to solidify it, those words sure are. You have to be dreaming.

Your eyes remain locked onto the fingers now resting against the keys. “Do you really think that?”

“Yes.” The response comes quicker than expected but instead of giving you time to ruminate on it, he nudges you with his elbow. “Password.”

Your shoulders lift with a deep inhale through your nose and drop back down with the subsequent forceful exhale through your lips. What are you supposed to do with that information? You feel your consciousness try to lift into the aether. If you could only make it float back into your own body, you might have the courage to say something, anything. With your mind drifting away, your fingers move of their own accord as they type in the password to your laptop.

"Whoa, what the fuck is that?"

The video you'd left open last night starts up with a preview that brings you back to reality, but not fast enough.

"D-Don't look! It's private!" you screech.

Heat pulses through the veins along the sides of your forehead. Precious seconds have already been wasted by the time you frantically scramble to close the tab. He's seen the keywords in the search bar and the nastiest bits of that particular video. You're fucking mortified.

“I mean that’s definitely a couple privates," he jokes with a laugh. "You seriously just leave your porn out like that?"

”Incognito mode, Yoongi," you sneer while pulling up a new tab. "I don’t need you or my FBI guy judging me.”

He snorts. “Oh come on, Y/N. The FBI doesn’t care about your porn preferences. And neither do I. Besides, you technically looked at it with my eyes already.”

He taps the side of your forehead gently as if you needed the reminder that you're not in your own skin and you swat him away. You quickly type the phrase “body swap” into the search bar and try to focus on the resulting web pages even though you’re distracted by the blood leaving your brain in favor of other body parts.

"Can you just… Shut up for one second?"

"Hey, I'm just saying..." He clicks his tongue thoughtfully as he scooches closer to you. "You’re into some good stuff. We might have more in common than I thought."

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the physical contact and send a tingling electricity down your abdomen. You clear your throat and reposition the computer over your lap as you feel yourself growing harder. You stare down at the two fingers settled on the trackpad rather than the information on screen. Try as you might to remain inconspicuous, suddenly all you can think about are those thick fingers rubbing hard circles against your clit while the two of you watch porn together. Bad thought. Baaaaaad. You attempt to pass the laptop over to him as discreetly as possible while shifting your pelvis away towards the edge of the bed.

“I’m…” You flounder for an excuse to leave the room and get these racing hormones under control. “...pee.”

“What?” There's a quizzical expression branded upon his features that toes the line of disgust.

“I have to pee,” you quickly correct while tactically holding your forearm over your lap. If there is such a thing as fate, why is it torturing you like this?

“Again?”

You push the laptop towards him once more and pray that he’ll just let you go be embarrassed alone in the bathroom for five minutes. Instead he looks down at the way your forearms cross your pelvis and exudes a deep, throaty laugh that sounds foreign in the tenor of your voice. That laughter travels through your head like it’s made of hot coals.

“Wow. Got a boner, huh?”

Your cheeks are made of fire. Literal fire. They feel like they should melt straight through your skin and torch your brain yet here you are: still alive and wishing you would burn to death. God is dead. There is no mercy in this universe.

"Don't fucking laugh at me! I can't control it!"

When he laughs harder, the urge to silence him overtakes all rational thought. You reach for a lock of hair sticking out from beneath his cap and pull hard. He hisses through his teeth and you smirk, knowing what kind of response this would normally elicit from your body. Will it affect him the same, or is the sexual response guided by mental preference rather than physical? Maybe it’s both. It seems to have some effect because he’s stopped laughing.

Yoongi shivers as goosebumps riddle his arms and prickle along his chest until his nipples are threatening to poke holes through the thin fabric of the bra and t-shirt. His jaw tightens and on instinct his hand shoots up to grasp at the short black hair adorning your head in retaliation. He catches himself before he pursues the motion of yanking down. What is he doing? Can he really be so bold with you? He knows you, but not like this. Things are strange right now but if he keeps going they're bound to get stranger. If the butterflies in his stomach weren't enough to tip him off to his attraction to you, even like this, the wetness between these thighs solidifies the magnetism you hold over him.

A pitiful sound escapes your lips that hints at your disappointment. “Mmm?"

He pauses there to inspect your expression, tilting his head as though it will give him a better read. He should be able to interpret his own expression but looking at his face through your eyes doesn't seem to help at all. Because he's studied your features for so long it's hard to see what you're feeling now that he can't see them at work. His palm flattens against your scalp and he allows his fingers to wander through the thick black hair he's combed out a million times. Somehow it feels softer in your hands. Soon he finds his hand cupping the back of your neck. Labored breaths swim in the space between the pair of you, but it's hard to tell who they belong to.

"What are you doing?" you whisper as your fingers reach for the brim of his cap.

"What are you doing?" he echoes back.

Have your eyes always looked so fierce, or is it his persona breathing a dark fire into them now? You flick the cap off his head, which releases all the hair he had trapped underneath it. You push it back from his face and tangle your fingers within it.

"Pretending like this isn't just you wanting to make out with yourself to see what it's like," you answer, staring at the reflection in his eyes. "You?"

There's a smirk that grows into a full blown grin within seconds. "Trying to convince myself that it isn't insane to want to make out with myself just to see what it's like."

You scoff and drop your hands to his shoulders to give him a firm push back. "Dick."

He giggles at the way you pout and halfheartedly pushes the laptop towards the other side of the bed. The hand still on the back of your neck travels up to massage your scalp and suddenly you're putty in his palm. His other hand trails along your stubbly jaw until his fingers are nestled behind your ear. As he glances down at the tent in your pants he laughs.

"Still hard?"

"Like your nipples," you grumble.

You reach out and twist the peaks barely hidden beneath his shirt; it's an impulse you don't refuse. This time he moans.

"Oh, you liked that, hmm? I bet you're so fucking wet right now," you whisper, embracing your boldness.

You watch his eyes roll with the flutter of his lashes at your words. Both of his hands glide through your hair and he begins to flex his fingers around some strands. He alternates between releasing his gentle grip on your locks and twisting his fingers back into them. You’re making him crazy. Should he even bother trying to compose himself at this point?

“What?” you prod, pushing the limits of his endurance for such brattiness. “Aren’t you going to pull my hair, Yoongi?”

The way he glares at you causes your skin to break out in a series of goosebumps. How can you be shivering when your body was just doing its best impression of molten rock? Yoongi. That’s the answer. You whimper a pathetic sound as his knuckles curl towards your scalp. The motion brings your forehead down to meet his and your eyelids flutter closed. He focuses heavy breaths out through his nose and stares at the lips he knows are his own. They may be part of his usual physical appearance but right now they’re a part of yours.

“You’re so fucking obnoxious.”

He sucks his bottom lip through his teeth and moves towards you before he can second guess what he's about to do. His lips seem to meld with yours and your eyes pop open to be sure this is really happening. Is this really happening? You see your own nose and heavy lidded eyes peeking open just enough to roll back in pleasure.

The hands buried in your hair drop to cradle your jaw and you can feel the stubble scraping against the delicate skin of his fingers as he drags his hands slowly towards your chin. You melt into his touch and hold your breath like you'll never inhale another again. Suddenly you're kissing him back and no amount of lightheadedness can stop you.

Oh shit. This is happening. It’s not anything like your daydreams but it’s real and it feels so fucking good. It feels surreal. It feels too surreal. Maybe the lightheadedness can stop you. It's you, but it's not. Your eyes open again and you find a battle of anxiety raging in your brain. He pauses to peck the edge of your mouth when he realizes you're no longer kissing him back.

"What are you doing?" he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. “Did I… read that wrong?”

“No! No, I’ve wanted to do that for a while. It’s just…” A laugh bubbles from your throat and you shake your head before bursting into a fit of giggles. “This is weird.”

Relief washes over his features and he smiles as he leans back to look at you. “It’s definitely unique. But I can’t say I want to stop.”

His admission fills you with a fresh wave of tingles up your spine. “Me neither. I… still want you.”

You sheepishly turn your head to the side and find the mirror lining the closet wall, looking at the image of the pair of you as if it will save you from the embarrassment of your own words.

"What? Now you're getting shy?" he teases while following you gaze to the reflection. It dawns on him that he can enjoy the view. "Or do you just want to watch?"

He moves towards your lips slowly while keeping focused on the mirror, watching your eyes lazily roll back behind your lids and revelling in the whine this pulls from you.

“Look,” he pleads in low whisper, angling your body so you can get a better view. “Look how good you look with your tongue on my neck.”

Your head lolls around just in time to see exactly that before the sensation snaps across your nerve endings. He latches on, sucking light bruises into the tender flesh. He knows where to put his tongue to have you gripping the back of his neck and arching your back up towards him. He smirks as he glances at the mirror, licking a hot stripe up to your ear where he teasingly nibbles on the lobe.

"Does it look as hot when I--when you...?" You flounder on your words in between soft pants, your eyes trained on the reflection.

He counters with a whisper, “Do you want to find out?”

“I’m… curious,” you admit, leaning your head back to give him access to more of your neck.

“You want to know how it feels,” he lazily mumbles against your neck. “Hmm. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it.”

“It’s a unique opportunity,” you say, trying to convince yourself that proposing the idea isn’t weird at all. “Maybe we just… See?”

“Right. This is a unique opportunity,” he echoes in agreement, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His voice is muffled as he sighs a heated breath against your skin. “We should take advantage of it.”

“I mean, as long as you don’t tell anyone.”

He pops his head up to look at you, his brows knotted in confusion. “Who would believe me?”

You shake your head and smirk. “I guess you’re right.”

There’s a moment where the concept of time seems to evaporate. You both stare at each other like you’re seeing your own faces for the first time, like it’s the first time you both can actually love and accept yourselves as you are. It’s easier to be gentle with someone else, but now that someone else is technically also a part of you it brings a level of clemency to your feelings regarding your appearance. You like yourself better now that you can see a part of him there.

“Will you show me how you like it?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

“If you show me, too,” you say with a gentle rock of your hips towards him.

“You first.”

Your mouth is already covering the soft expanse of his neck, dragging your teeth with just enough pressure to tease the skin. He watches you work up and down through the mirror, feeling the arousal between his legs building. As you're kissing a path back towards his mouth he takes a chance and swings his leg over your midriff so he's kneeling just above the throbbing cock hidden beneath the thin layer of gray fabric. The jeans dig a hard line into his stomach and limit the range of his spread.

"These pants are horrible," he complains.

"Take them off if you hate them so much," you agree between hungry kisses. It's impossible to keep your eyes from the mirror. He hooks his fingers beneath your sweater and begins working it upwards, stopping only to rest a palm on your chest.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He trails his fingers down the flat expanse until he gets to your navel, passing over the dark hair leading down into your pants. He tugs at the place where the hair begins to grow thicker and laughs when you hiss an expletive.

He quickly pulls the oversized sweater upwards. Instead of helping you out of it, he clutches the fabric with both hands as you bring your arms above your head and presses you back into the mattress. You find your bent elbows trapped in the sleeves.

“How about this?” he whispers. “Do you like this?”

“Yes.” You look down at the delicious pectorals he’s exposed, practically salivating at the sight of those pert nipples. “Yoongi, please.”

He smirks as he runs his fingers down your chest, ignoring the nipples you wish he would do something about. Lower. Lower. His hand travels behind him until suddenly your body spasms with pleasure from the practiced grip he’s placed on the cock standing at attention behind him.

“This? Does it feel good when I touch you like this?”

“Fuck! Yes. Please. Yes!”

Just as quickly as his hand pressed against your clothed erection, it’s gone, leaving you a whimpering mess. He plants a kiss beside one of your nipples, but denies it any direct contact.

"Stop teasing me," you whine. The pressure in your chest builds with every second that passes and you feel like your heart is going to burst.

He lets out a lofty sigh as he sits back on his thighs, promptly removing his t-shirt. "But you make it so easy..."

You wiggle out of the arms of the sweater and sit up to unsnap the button to his jeans. You kiss up his stomach until he’s unzipping the bra and letting you nip at the supple flesh for a moment. He discards the bra like it’s nothing before rolling over to unzip his pants. He peels them from his legs along with the soaked panties. It’s hard to not look at the mirror as he climbs over your waist. If he holds any shame for being nude in front of you, it’s not apparent in his current form. Your face, however, feels hot. Your body is exposed and he keeps looking at it, groping those breasts with his hands.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, admiring the reflection as he plays with his nipples between his fingers.

You want to bury your face in something to hide your embarrassment so you plant your face between his tits and begin to suck bruises into the soft flesh beside his fingers.

“Oh fuck.” The sight of his own face diving between those squishy tits is enough to make his body involuntarily flex in ways he’s never experienced before.

“How does it feel?” you murmur, slowly licking a path to one of his nipples and lightly dragging your teeth along it.

The sound he makes when he moans has you shivering all over again. He lets his head fall back for a second and then he looks at you. “Like I want you to touch me.”

Now you’re the one who smirks with confidence. “Lay back.”

He snaps the band at your waist as he rolls off of you. “These. Off.”

Manicured fingers slip down to rub some of the tension from the swollen bud between his legs as he watches you awkwardly push the pants down past the cock begging to be touched. You try to avoid looking at it. It’s hard not to feel exposed even though it’s not your body. You scramble back into the bed as quickly as you can. His laughter catches you off guard.

“You’re so shy now. Look at it. Feel it,” he urges. “Grab my cock.”

You try to be casual about your downward glance but the way you lick your lips is anything but casual. You press your thumb into the base of the cock to admire its shape from a 90 degree angle. It’s average in terms of length but your mouth waters at the sight of the bulging veins and increased girth just below the swollen tip. You don’t bother to resist the urge to grip the shaft. You drag your hand up and trace your thumb around the fleshy mauve tip. The sensation causes you to shiver. It’s so sensitive.

As you’re admiring the way it tapers towards the base, soft, thinner fingers curl around yours and begin to guide them into a slow, controlled pumping motion that sets your nerves alight.

He quirks a brow at you. “What do you think?”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you choke out with a held breath. Greedy gasps break the small silence that follows. Has it always been so hard to speak while masturbating? It’s not like you’re terrible at dirty talk so why are you hesitating?

“Do you need me to stop?”

You fervently shake your head and follow it with a needy groan. “No. Please… Keep going.” You hope he never stops.

“Then use your words” he urges, placing his hand over yours to slow your pace to a crawl.

You whimper. It’s a pathetic sound created with his voice in his throat, yet it still somehow sounds so deliciously like you. While he finds himself attracted to your usual body, it doesn’t bother him that you’re currently assuming a different form. Looks are fleeting anyway. It’s the person inside he’s grown attached to, the caring soul he feels connected to.

He’s seen you stare at the bulletin board near the restroom and tear off the tabs of creative community activities to benefit those in need. If he wasn’t so busy managing the store all the time he would have been able to sign up for those events too. He’s seen you volunteer at the homeless shelter just around the corner. He’s seen you cradling posters for your neighbor’s missing cat— he’d even let you keep one on the door to his store until you told him they found it.

The truth is that your soul is so beautiful and full that he’d want you no matter what you looked like. If only he had the courage to say that. But it's easier to hide behind snark.

“It feels so good,” you whine. “I wish I could put my mouth all over it. Bet you’d fill me so good.”

A growl escapes with his exhale and he guides your fist up and down the girth between your legs with increased vigor. He gently leads you by the dick, pulling you closer to the bed until your knees hit the side.

“Look in the mirror, Y/N. Watch,” he whispers in a low tone, almost begging you to keep your eyes on the reflection.

You do as he says and watch in awe as a set of manicured fingers tap against your chest and trail down to the cock still nestled in your fist. They work their way beneath your palm and shoo your hand away. Even knowing that Yoongi is behind the action, the sight of your hands stroking that perfect cock sets a fire of desire coursing through your veins.

You watch in the mirror as your lips plant kisses on the dark hair beneath Yoongi’s navel. You watch as your head sinks lower and lower until soft, plush lips are skimming the tip of his dick. You watch his length slide into your mouth and immediately your knees threaten to buckle.

His hands are already reaching up to stabilize your stance even as he glides his tongue against you. The pleasure is unlike anything you’ve felt before, but having your clit sucked and teased comes close. It’s heaven. You whimper a tortured sound sitting somewhere between the boundaries of pleasure and anguish. He plays your role so well, maybe even better than you could play it. You attempt to distract yourself from the nervous tremble of your thighs by gathering bits of his hair in your hands and balling it in your fists. He gargles out a muffled moan against you.

“I look so good sucking your pretty cock,” you whisper in awe.

He leans back to swipe his tongue over the slit and then sinks back down, nose hitting the tuft of dark hair at your pelvis as you bottom out in his throat. Your grip around his hair tightens with the slight rock of your hips. You press his face against your crotch like you never want him to leave. The pair of you look so fucking hot. You’re revelling in slow, shallow thrusts deep in his throat when he makes a gagging noise you know all too well. He grips your thighs and you immediately release your hold while pulling your hips back.

“Fuck I’m so sorry!” Heat rises in your face and you want to run and hide.

He rests his palm on your waist and catches his breath, a trail of sticky precum and thick spit connecting his mouth to your cock. It involuntarily flexes and bobs up towards your stomach and then back down, which severs the path of saliva.

“Don’t be. That was hot.” He wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

“Yoongi, you didn’t have to! I mean I was curious but I—”

You’re cut off by his harsh tug on your hands. You stumble forward and meet his dark gaze. How can he make your eyes look so hungry?

“I’m a firm believer in never asking someone to do what I wouldn’t. I like to know what I’m giving, don’t you?”

“God, I wish that were me. I want to taste you so bad,” you whine, licking your lips as you spare a glance down at the glistening appendage standing at attention between your legs. “Wanna taste you dripping off my tongue.”

“You can,” he assures you in a soft voice, cupping your face with his hands.

His lips are on yours in an instant and you’re moaning against them like you’ll never get enough. The salty tang on his tongue transfers to yours as it dips into your mouth. You wish you could take him into your mouth yourself, but this is a good substitute for now.

"You taste good," you pant between kisses. "Why haven't we done this sooner?"

He pulls away to shrug, cocking his head to the side and focusing on your neck. "If you want something you have to speak up. No one can read minds and even if they could, often times people are so wrapped up in their own heads they'd never see what you think.”

"Wow, getting philosophical on me, huh? So… What? I'm just supposed to say, ‘Hey yoongi you're hot. Wanna fuck’?"

"That's a little blunt don't you think?" He laughs, allowing you to push him back onto the mattress. "Been holding that back long?"

Your heart skips a beat, heat flushing your ears. "Maybe. Would it have made a difference?”

He ponders this for a moment as he squints at the ceiling in concentration. "Mmm. I'd say you should at least buy me dinner first… "

You scoff. It’s not a no but it’s not an enthusiastic yes either. You climb onto the mattress, trying to ignore how casually he lays in your bed, completely barren before you.

He rolls onto his side and props his head up to survey your approach. You seem a little nervous so it’s easier for him to fake confidence for both your sakes. "I guess we're both guilty of not saying what we mean."

"What is it you really mean to say then?" If he’s got a juicy secret he’s been holding in, then you want to know to salvage what’s left of your pride.

"I give you shit but I like that you come into the store every day to get your muffin and your gross energy drink. I like when you come back in after just to bitch about your day and pretend like you need a snack that I never see you eat. I like when you ask me about my day, even though you know I’m shit at conversation. It makes me happy because I care about…" he hesitates when he sees your smug grin. "...”

“Yes?” you prod.

He draws a deep breath from his belly. “You. I care about you. I’ve never found an opportunity to tell you that I like you. I’m always working, keeping my store afloat, focused on the numbers and the success of my business. But I see you coming out of that building every day. I watch for you to make sure even after a year of this that you’re still coming here first. It’s crazy but you put me at ease and make me anxious at the same time. I feel like I know you, like I’ve known you all my life.”

He pauses to allow you to interject. When you don’t, he continues, “I feel it in my bones when you smile at me, when you roll your eyes at me, when you try to make me laugh... You’re so easy to fall for. I know that I’m not, but sometimes you look at me and I feel like you want to. I want you to. I wish you would come back when I’m locking up for the night so that I could see you outside of work, so I could take you out, so I could take you home. A thousand possibilities are always running through my head when it comes to you and I freeze when I think about acting on any of them. That’s what I don’t say.”

“Yoongi…” you finally whisper.

Your face scrunches up like you’re about to cry and he grimaces at you, knowing you’re definitely about to do just that.

“Don’t do that. My cheeks look so fat when you do that. Hey, are you listening? Don’t make my face look so ugly!”

His attempts to make you smile simply causes the tears to fall from your eyes. You melt into his embrace, burying your face against his neck as you sob. He places a tentative palm on the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, planting a kiss against your hair, “if it’s just me.”

“No, I feel the same way,” you admit, turning your head to kiss his cheek. “You say you’re hard to love but how can that be true when I feel what I feel so easily? I will wait for you to close your shop and walk you home every day if you let me. I will be yours, if you let me.”

He turns your head so that he can bring his lips to yours. They taste salty again for entirely different reasons. Can you feel the way he’s trembling right now? All the relief in the world can’t assuage the ache of carrying such a burden in his chest for so long. The adrenaline is coursing through him like a wildfire, spreading until his lungs are burning with a heat he can’t quell.

“Mine, then,” he whispers, allowing the tears to stream down his cheeks freely. “Mine.”

He tangles his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a passionate kiss that threatens to steal every last bit of oxygen from your lungs. He growls into your mouth, claiming every inch inside with his tongue. He grinds his hips upwards and it’s then you remember that you’re naked and you have a dick that’s still half-hard and growing harder by the second.

You groan loudly. “Fuuuuuck. I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

He pulls back to bite his lip, the intrigue in his features apparent. “You want to try it?”

“I mean… you sucked your own dick for me. You don’t owe me anything—”

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. I want to try it,” he says, wriggling his hips beneath you. “Fuck. Me.”

“This is still so weird,” you say with a giggle, your eyes rolling back into your skull when the tip of your cock glides against his clit. “Ah…”

The pair of you pause and slowly repeat the motion. You can feel how wet he is and instead of being embarrassed like you would be in his place, you find it incredibly hot.

“Do it again,” he pleads, spreading his legs further apart to allow you better access.

You look down, pressing your thumb into the base of your cock and carefully glide the tip across the folds between his legs. He hisses an expletive between his teeth when you drag it past his clit and begin rocking your hips back and forth.

“Yeah, just like that,” he whispers through frantic panting and sloppy kisses.

You feel a cramp in your thigh and pull back to nurse the ache. He whines when you slink away from his body, missing the friction on his clit already, although he’s satisfied enough when you circle one of his breasts with your tongue and take a nipple into your mouth. You press light circles into his clit with the pad of your middle finger until you can feel his legs flexing around your body like you’re not giving him enough. His fingers dive beneath yours to tease the swollen bud.

“Let me feel,” he pants. “Let me learn where to touch.”

You carefully guide his movements for a minute while treating his other nipple to the pleasures of your tongue. He seems to get the hang of stimulating himself pretty quickly so you turn your attention towards his thighs. You sink between them and begin kissing the sensitive skin beside his folds. His thighs twitch when you trace circles around his entrance with your tongue. You briefly pause to inspect your fingernails, making sure none of them are a jagged mess from the way he’s bitten them. When you’re satisfied with your inspection you peek up at him.

“You want to try my fingers first?” you ask, feeling envious that you can’t be riding three of them to the knuckle right now. “I can show you how my mouth feels too, though I doubt I’m an expert on that.”

“I don’t care about that.” He lifts his hand so he can peer down at you from between his tits. “I’ll take your mouth anywhere you want to give it.”

He watches as you flick your tongue across the sensitive, slick bundle of nerves. He bucks his hips as you clamp down and roll your tongue back and forth over it. His pretty painted nails look so good digging into your ebony hair. It’s not long until you dip a finger inside his cunt, teasing until you’re bobbing it in and out at a decent pace.

“Oh…” he says, as if he’s surprised that the experience is so pleasurable. “Shit, that’s good. Fuck. I’m gonna....”

You push another finger into him, curling the longest digit as far as you can to try and reach the g-spot you know is hiding nearby. When you finally get it he grips your shoulders and arches his pelvis off the ground like he’s committing to a new yoga routine. You recognize the stiffness in his limbs, the involuntary tremble of his thighs beside your head, the heaving of his chest and the frantic nonsense spilling out from his lips. You focus your energy on his clit, replacing your mouth with your hand since you have more confidence bringing about his climax this way.

His hips stutter and you know he’s riding the line. It’s a little bit more difficult to find that perfect rhythm when your hand isn’t in it’s normal position. The way he sucks in a breath to release his needy whines almost makes you feel guilty. It’s not like you’re trying to edge him but you’re not able to keep that pressure as consistent as you’d like.

“I’m so close,” he pants. “But I keep losing it. I’m sorry.”

You’ve been there plenty of times but you’re desperate to make him cum.

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Rub it, baby. You know what feels good,” you whisper, shifting your attention to fingering his cunt. You don’t call attention to the pet name, but it feels so natural falling from your lips in this moment. You hope he doesn’t mind.

In an instant his fingers replace yours on his clit and he’s building back up. His thighs quake and his back arches off the mattress one more time and you know it’s coming. He’s about to reach his peak.

He takes a sharp inhale and where you expect the loud wails you would normally make while riding out your high, there’s quiet shuddering and softy breathy moans that linger in the air around you. He grabs your wrist with an ironclad grip as soon as he rides the last wave and his sweaty thighs fall limp around your face. You’re grinning like an idiot as he pulls you by the hair towards his lips, desperate to feel you, to taste you. His tongue is exploring every bit it can, trying to steal the essence from your mouth.

“Mmm. I want to taste that sweet pussy every day.“

“Do you… Still want me to fuck you?” You’re really trying not to sound hopeful but you can’t stop thinking about it.

He smirks and wipes the sweat from his brow. “Let me feel how well my cock fills you.”

“Do I need a condom?” you ask. “Are you clean?”

He laughs like it’s an absurd question. “That’s up to you. I haven’t had sex in four years. I’m clean. If you’re not worried, I’m not worried.”

“Four years is a long time,” you mumble, suddenly feeling pressure perform well. “I have an IUD so if you’re okay with it…”

“I wanna know how it feels.”

As soon as you line yourself up with his entrance you’re sweating like you’ve never sweated in your entire life. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re hoping it doesn’t suck. It doesn’t take a genius to sense your nerves. He reaches out to cup your stubbly jaw.

“We don’t have to.”

“I want to. Just… tell me if I’m hurting you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his.

You let the tip dip inside and descend into his cunt slowly, knowing the thickest part of your dick follows the tip immediately. The stretch must be delicious. You’re distracted by how tightly his walls are clamping down on you. It’s tempting to bury yourself in his warmth as quickly as possible but you show restraint. His breath hitches as he adjusts to your girth and you freeze. Has your body ever taken someone as thick as him? You can’t recall. Probably not.

“Keep going,” he coaches, grabbing at your ass to press you further inside until you’ve bottomed out.

Your head hangs down as you try not to let the sensation overwhelm you. His lips find yours, helping you climb back down from the high. You slowly move your hips back, already missing the tight warmth hugging you. It takes a few more slow thrusts until you’re pumping into him at a relatively steady pace.

“Sorry if my rhythm isn’t good. I’ve never done this,” you manage to say between heavy breaths.

“You’re doing fine. This feels amazing. What are you talking about?”

He could be lying to make you feel better but it’s working. He puts his hands by his head to indicate he wants you to hold them. You immediately twine your fingers in his and press the back of his hands into the mattress.

“Yeah? It feels so fucking good, Yoongi.”

“It does... But I know you can fuck me harder than that, Y/N.”

You can already feel the tightness you’re holding back, a pleasurable pressure building in your pelvis that warns you of the imminent orgasm you can only stave off for so long. You can’t help but slam your hips in harder and faster at his request. The sound of balls slapping against skin fills the room and he moves his hips to meet yours. His breathing grows labored but you know he’s not about to cum again. You’ve never gotten off from penetration alone and there’s no way your sloppy performance will cause that miracle to happen now.

“There you go… Fuck. That’s it.”

“I’m gonna pull out,” you warn, feeling like you’re testing your own limits with every thrust.

“Already?” he teases, digging his pretty fingernails into your back.

“It feels… too fucking good, Yoon…” You wish you had more stamina. “Gonna cum on those pretty tits.”

“Yoon?” He chuckles, now distracted by the way his tits are bouncing with each slap of your hips.

“Just wait until I’m back in that body riding your cock. See how long you last then.”

“Is that a promise?” he questions, cupping your jaw to kiss you.

“...Yeah...”

He can feel the difference in your pace, in the shivers of your body. You’re about to cum. He turns your face towards the mirror so you can see how fucked out your reflection looks. It’s intoxicating seeing Yoongi’s body so needy and desperate.

“Look at you. You’re not gonna make it to these tits.”

“Fuck…” you bite your lip and try to slow your pace but it’s too late. The tension and pressure bursts from the head of your cock like a confetti popper on New Years. With a few, strong pumps you spill your seed into his warm cunt. “Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cummmph--”

Yoongi brings your lips back to meet his to muffle the unexpected sounds of your orgasm.

“Oh my goooood. You’re so loud,” he teases when you finally come down, but you’re too spent to refute him.

There’s another twitch in your dick and you lay there with your mouth open, trying to regain sense of your faculties. He intentionally clenches around your softening length and every muscle in your abdomen flexes.

“Too much!” you shriek, pulling out and rolling off of him in one swift motion.

You let your sweaty back hit the soft duvet, trying to recover from the sensation. He laughs, angling his legs towards the mirror. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he spreads his legs and swipes at the cum dripping from his cunt, pushing it back inside with his fingers and releasing a soft sigh. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen yourself do, and you’re not even doing it.

When he’s satisfied that he’s pushed it all in, he lays down next to you. The two of you stare at the ceiling in silence for at least a minute. Is it awkward or was it just that good? You can’t tell the difference right now and it’s making you anxious. He covers your hand with his and looks over at you with a warm smile.

The anxiety-driven words come out before you can stop them. “You should pee. You don’t want a UTI and neither do I.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

About an hour has passed in awkward silence as the two of you conduct research on what the fuck happened to you. You haven’t talked about what you both did in this bed, but the smell of sex still hangs in the air. As soon as you both put your clothes back on it was like a switch of modesty came back into play, and you feel too shy to point it out. You don’t know what to say, so you’ve just been clicking on every link you possibly can to fill the silence as he scrolls through articles on his phone nearby. It’s uncomfortable and you hate it.

“I think I have something, maybe,” you say, scrolling through the 90s looking website you’ve been exploring for the last few minutes.

Yoongi scoots closer to you and furrows his brow as he squints to read the sloppy banner at the top of the page. “The Unsolved?”

“I know what you’re thinking. Conspiracy theorists are insane, I know, but—”

You reach for the trackpad at the same time and your fingers brush, causing you to freeze mid-sentence. You stare at the keyboard for a second and chew on your lip, allowing your eyes to dart towards your periphery without moving your head. When he doesn’t say anything you clear your throat and scroll with the trackpad.

“But, look.” You point to the two embedded images triumphantly.

“Necklaces.” He cocks his head to the side and reads the text underneath aloud. “‘An Amulet of Discord is used by an Agent of Chaos to spread mischief and debauchery in the universe. It can be split into two halves to displace unsuspecting victims from their bodies. A glamour will protect the Amulet once the ritual is complete, making it impossible to see or touch. In order to reunite the victim with their body, the Agent responsible must be compelled to remove the glamour and mend the fragmented pieces into one.’”

“Last night I had one of those chincy friendship necklaces on and I definitely did not put it on. It looked a lot like the ones that weird guy tried to give us at your shop yesterday. I tried to get it off but it wouldn’t budge. Then it disappeared.”

“This sounds insane,” he muses, mulling over the information.

“Did it happen to you too?”

“I thought I saw one briefly, but… It was gone when I looked again. I thought I must be seeing things.”

“It’s gotta be it!”

Yoongi furrows his brows as you scroll back up to the navigation, not sure if he fully believes in this explanation. “What’s an Agent of Chaos anyway?”

“I guess they like… cause mayhem for fun? I don’t know, the description said something about pleasing a patron that they get their powers from.”

“Like a god?”

The thought makes him uneasy. If a god of chaos exists then surely there are more out there. If gods exist but they do nothing to balance out the cosmic injustices of the universe, are they really gods or more like demons? He feels like he’s about to have a full meltdown over something he can’t understand or control.

“Maybe. It doesn’t describe them at all. But…” You give him a reassuring smirk. “It does give instructions on how to trap an Agent. We just need a little more space and some chalk. We’ll draw him out, trap him, then make him undo his magic. What do we have to lose?”

His heart feels lighter when you look at him so softly. “Makes it sound simple when you say it like that. Also, slightly insane.”

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The website was very lax on defining the ‘discordant energy’ needed to summon the agent, so the pair of you have been improvising. Yoongi suggested moving into the store for the space you needed, but you have a feeling he’s just anxious about it being closed for the day. It’s fine. You don’t want to constantly be thinking about the sex neither of you are acknowledging right now. Yoongi is brushing his teeth after drinking a bottle of orange juice.

You grimace at him. “You really think that’s gonna do it?”

He stops mid-brush, his mouth full of foam and garbling his words. “It’s better than doing nothing. How are you helping?”

You give the sunglasses rack a slow spin. “I drew the sigil on the floor. If we’re gonna trap him we need to be ready. Were you able to find anything else?”

He clicks on your laptop a few times before hurrying into the back room. He reappears a moment later, wiping at his mouth. “That was gross.”

You watch him concentrate on the screen, trying to forget the way it felt to kiss him everywhere he would let you. It’s hard to focus on the task at hand when there’s this feeling lingering in your uneasy stomach. Are you doomed to never speak of the things that made your heart flutter?

“ A thousand possibilities are always running through my head when it comes to you and I freeze when I think about acting on any of them. That’s what I don’t say .”

You tell yourself you imagined those words, that you wished them into existence. You turn the rack of cheap sunglasses again. Even if you knew what you were looking for, you wouldn’t find it with the way your mind is wandering. You look back at Yoongi, debating whether or not you should speak up about the uncertainty in your gut.

“Keepsake!” he says excitedly, running out from behind the counter. “It says they often leave something behind so they can return to observe their work.”

His sudden movement makes you jump and loudly smack your hand against the stand in a panicked attempt to look inconspicuous. He pauses to look at you and raises an eyebrow but you’re already laser-focused on the rack again. Desperate to hide your growing embarrassment you pluck a pair of sunglasses that is strikingly similar to the ones you’d seen the man wearing that day.

As soon as you put them on you inhale sharply. “What the fuck?”

“Hmm?” Yoongi wonders. “What is it?”

“There’s something written… on the fridge.”

“What? Where?”

You lift the glasses up to be sure you can’t see the letters scrawled on the glass without them. The message disappears. Once you place them back on the bridge of your nose they practically glow, beckoning you towards them. You push past him on your way to the drinks section. “Here. It says… Now you have… specs appeal?”

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? It was a solid pun.”

The pair of you look towards the sound of the stranger’s voice. Instead of forming words you exclaim a sound of surprise. He looks confused.

“You’re going to need to speak clearly. I’m not sure I understand your language.”

“You! You did this!” you shriek, taking a step forward.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” the man says with a puff of his cheeks. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “It’s not nice to accuse people of things. Have I done anything? Are you sure you’re not dreaming?”

A haze of golden dust spreads across the room like twinkling stars. As you blink and rub at your eyes you yawn and feel a sudden urge to lay down.

“Mmm. I am sleepy…” you admit as you sink to your knees.

Yoongi looks down at you like you’ve grown two heads. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

You laugh and lazily grapple with his leg. “Come lay down. Please? It’s made out of feathers.”

Yoongi watches you close your eyes. Suddenly your body falls limp at his feet. He crouches down to cradle your face in his hands, your name an urgent plea on his lips. “Y/N. Y/N wake up.” He pinches your cheek but you don’t respond.

“She wants this to be a dream. Don’t you?” The man takes a few casual steps forward.

“No, I don’t,” Yoongi growls. The threat sounds odd coming from this body, tone too meek to pass for intimidating. He glares at the man after reluctantly tearing his eyes from your sleeping form. It may be his body on the floor there, but you’re trapped inside it. “Wake her up.”

“She’s tired!”

Yoongi rises to his feet and shields your unconscious form as the man creeps closer. “Don’t take another step. You’re going to regret it.”

“Threatening me? Hah… You’re pretty bold, considering you’re not really in a bargaining position. Spunky! I’ll give you that. Say, I’m curious. What do you think I am anyway? I’ve got a bet going and I know I’m gonna win because I’m right, but I need proof. So if you wouldn’t mind speaking into this...”

Out of his pocket comes a microphone. He holds it out like he’s giving the most intense interview of his life as he awaits Yoongi’s response.

“You’re… Some kind of trickster.”

The man sucks his teeth and shoves the microphone back in his pocket. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind. So much for my bet… Come on. Don’t you think I look more like a god?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you work for one,” Yoongi muses, “but you sure aren’t one.”

“Wooooow….” The man sighs in disbelief. “The disrespect! At least you’re honest. I can appreciate that. I— ”

The stranger’s body seizes up as he takes another step forward. ”Ow!” His body convulses for a second before he regains his faculties. He looks down to find the sigil scrawled in chalk around his feet. Try as he might to scrape the markings off with his heel, his shoes are unable to scuff the powder. He furrows his brows and throws his hands in the air.

“Really? Are you kidding me? An integrity prison? Where did you learn this?”

Holy fucking shit. It worked, Yoongi thinks. He’s never been more relieved in his life.

“Wake her up,” he repeats calmly.

“I was gonna,” the man pouts, slumping into a cross-legged sit. “But now I really don’t want to. Would it kill you to have manners? Look at this. You’ve put me in a difficult little pickle here.” He reaches behind his back and pulls out a jar full of dill pickles. He fishes one out and takes a loud, crunchy bite. “I was just having a little fun and now I’m stuck here, doomed to this ugly little space.”

Yoongi crosses his arms, quickly losing patience. “Stop being dramatic.”

The man glowers at him and crunches on the last bit of the pickle with slow, loud chewing.

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh. “Please, stop being dramatic.”

With a surprised nod, the man gulps down the pickle and hops to his feet. “Well, you said please, at least. Was that really such a big... dill?”

Right as Yoongi groans, the man snaps his fingers and flexes his pointers into finger-guns. You immediately yawn and sit up.

“What happened?” you mumble.

Yoongi offers you a hand and you take it, rising to unsteady feet. He wraps a hand around your waist to support your weight. “You took a nap but you didn’t miss much. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you murmur, the haze lifting from your sleepy eyelids. You gasp as your eyes focus on the man trapped between the center aisles. “Huh! We got him!”

“Yeah, yeah. Time to celebrate. You trapped me. Good job.” The sarcasm in his tone is evident, accompanied by a roll of his eyes. Confetti falls from above your heads, showering the pair of you in glitter and shiny streamers with the flick of his wrist. “Now let me out.”

You’re blown away by the bizarre moment, springing forward and out of Yoongi’s grasp. “Magic? Then, are you really… a god?”

The man pats his pockets frantically. “Finally! Someone with a sense for my greatness! Ugh! I should have been recording. Damn! Where’s my microphone?”

“Gods don’t get trapped with chalk,” Yoongi says, folding his arms and tapping his toe impatiently. “This guy is an underling. Hey! Don’t get too close!”

Your mouth hangs agape in awe as you approach the man. Scrutiny must be new for him because he seems stunned. That wide-eyed expression is erased quickly enough when he strikes a heroic pose, planting his hands on his hips and puffing his chest out. His pecs and shoulders seem to inflate when he inhales, causing them to swell into well-defined muscles.

“Oh.” You blink a few times, entranced by the sudden transformation. You reach your hand out as if to touch the meaty bicep practically bulging from his sleeve. “Who… What... are you, really?”

“Y/N!” Yoongi’s hands enclose around your waist, pulling you back into him just as your hand is about to break the barrier.

The man’s muscles deflate with his held breath as he bursts into a fit of squeaky laughter. “Oh! I almost had you!” He wheezes a squeaky sound through his inhale that you can only guess is laughter. He clears his throat. “My name is Jin. Matchmaker…” He holds up two matches in his hands and sets them alight with a flick of his wrist.

“Lover...” He winks and the matches disappear. In their stead are two roses. He tosses them at the two of you but when you go to catch yours it disintegrates.

Yoongi catches the disappointment on your face and thrusts the flower towards you, hoping it will restore the shine to your eyes. You give him a big, cheesy smile as you dust glitter from his hair.

“Ah… And! Balancing agent…” He stands on one foot as a seesaw appears to lift him into the air. He jumps down triumphantly with a bow. “At your service.”

You clap enthusiastically until you look over at Yoongi, who looks less than amused. You then nudge him with your elbow until he gives a solitary clap.

“What’s a balancing agent?” Yoongi asks dryly.

“We restore balance to the world. Things that are too uniform need a little chaos. Things that are too chaotic need to be put back into line. In our down time we like to have fun in our own ways. Me? I like to set people up.”

“So you’re not an Agent of Chaos?” you ask, disappointed that the conspiracy theorist page that led you to this point isn’t exactly the fountain of knowledge you had hoped for. There’s so much you don’t know.

Jin looks at you, clearly confused. “I mean some people call me Cupid, but I guess you can call me that. Has a nice ring to it. My powers are more inclined for chaos.”

“Cupid?”

“What? I’m a romantic. I can see the strings of fate! Also I may have a penchant for mischief, but that’s neither here—” He points at his feet. “Nor there!” He points at the shelf beside you which causes a bag of chips to burst, sending its contents everywhere.

“Hey!” Yoongi yells. “Are you going to pay for those?”

“Yoongi…”

“What?”

You can tell he’s irritated but clearly this guy can do a lot more than pop a bag of chips from across the room. You don’t want to fall on the bad side of his magic but you don’t exactly trust Yoongi’s mouth to keep you in Jin’s good graces.

“Stop being rude,” you whisper through clenched teeth.

He scoffs and answers you in a hushed tone. “How am I rude? He’s making a mess!”

“Then we’ll ask him to unmake it.” Your irritation heightens the volume of your voice to the point where it’s barely a whisper anymore.

“He’s playing with us. I’m through asking.”

“Yoongi.”

“Y/N.”

Jin laughs. “See, this is what I mean. Fate is practically screaming for me to help you. Chaos is just an added bonus for this boring town.”

You both look at him and ask in unison, “What?”

He points to the both of you. “Look.”

As you turn back to face Yoongi you’re shocked to see a pale blue orb glowing above his head. “Huh? What’s that?” You reach out to touch it but your hand passes through it without any change.

“You have one too,” he mumbles, squinting at the way a thin line seems to stem from it. Then he sees another. And another. It looks like a shiny, glittering web that splinters into a thousand different directions. His brows furrow as he inspects the tiny threads. “Do you see them?”

Your gaze follows his pointer and suddenly you can see the branching strands too, not just yours, but his as well. It’s beautiful. It’s overwhelming. It’s terrifying. Seeing the trepidation written on your face he silently beckons your attention to his finger, which is pointing to a thread that is golden instead of a pale blue hue. It’s the only one of its kind in the intricate glittering lattice between the two of you. You follow his pointer as it traces the path that stems from your orb until it gets closer to his and then you take over, finishing the path with your finger to the point where his orb engulfs the line.

“What is it?” you wonder aloud.

“A string of fate,” Jin answers with a wistful sigh. “It’s always exciting to see one, isn’t it? It means you’re soulmates.”

“Hah. Bullshit,” Yoongi responds, waving the air with his hands as if to disrupt the strings. They remain intact. “You just like causing mischief.”

Jin puffs his cheeks and scowls. “I can lie about a lot of things, but the strings aren’t one of them,” he huffs. “Why would I need to do that? What’s more unpredictable than true love slapping you in the face?”

He makes a motion with his fingers and sweeps them towards Yoongi.The compulsion rises and you’re powerless to stop it. Your hand moves of its own accord and lightly slaps Yoongi across the face. He looks betrayed as he rubs his cheek.

“I’m sorry! It wasn’t me!”

The tingle in your arm causes it to move back towards him in a gentle swoop. Your wrist is limp as it smacks into his chin and rubs back and forth as if to comfort him. Jin bursts into a fit of laughter as he breaks the compulsion.

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh, stomping up towards the circle around the stranger. “Just change us back and you can go on causing problems elsewhere.”

“I can’t,” Jin answers simply, crossing his arms. “The charm will break only under specific conditions.”

“And those are?”

Jin shrugs with his bottom lip protruding as he frowns. “It’s different for everyone.”

“Of course it is.” Yoongi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, pacing back towards you.

“There are some things you can try. Staples of the trade.” Jin notes some dirt beneath his fingernails and begins cleaning them. “Number one. Have you tried talking about your feelings?”

Yoongi’s gaze settles on yours and it’s like you can feel your heart stop. Say something. You open your mouth to speak but the words won’t come so you snap your jaw shut and stare at the glitter on the floor.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yoongi says as he folds his arms across his chest, trying to not get distracted by the breasts he inadvertently touches. He decides to drop his hands to his hips instead.

Jin rolls his eyes. “Okaaaay... Number two is filling the chaos meter. Go crazy. Do the unexpected.”

“I don’t know what we’d do,” Yoongi admits, pacing around the circle.

“What if we kissed?” The voice is soft and sweet.

He turns to face you, a combination platter of surprise and confusion. “But we did.”

“Reeeeally?”

Jin’s laughter makes him feel like a fool. He was convinced you said it, despite knowing your voice is not your own right now. How stupid could he be, walking right into that? He squeezes his eyes shut a moment and then focuses his attention on the captive.

While Yoongi is distracted you’re working a pack of mentos out of their packaging. You kneel down and twist the cap off one of the liters of cola placed on the endcap you. The hiss of the carbonation makes Yoongi shift attention.

Your name on his lips is half a warning, half a question loaded with uncertainty. You open another bottle beside it before he can get close enough and drop mentos into each. The liquid erupts into two fizzy fountains that reach the ceiling and spill back down to the floor. Yoongi takes off his hat and grips his hair like he wants to tear it out.

“What are you doing?”

“Filling the meter?” you answer meekly with a shug, stepping back from the puddle on the floor.

Jin roars with laughter. “Oh man. There is no meter, but that was delightful.”

Yoongi grumbles and goes back to the counter, grabbing the laptop and sinking down behind it to hide from the pandemonium of this situation.

“You’re the worst,” you mutter as you pass Jin. You quickly sit next to Yoongi on the floor.

“It was a joke!” Jin calls. “Come on, don’t leave me alone here.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize as his fingers rapidly tap the keys. “I’m trying to help.”

“I know.”

“What are you looking for?” you whisper.

Yoongi listens for a minute to the grumbling of the man trapped in the circle nearby. “How to trick a trickster. I have a feeling we need him to undo it but he won’t come out and say it.”

You sigh and press your chin against his shoulder. “I’m tired.”

He looks over and tips his head down to nuzzle his cheek against you. “I know.”

“Huh?” Your vision diverts to a shiny blue can beside him. “Are you serious?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” He picks it up and quickly downs the last sip, the Hot6 Logo shining back at you in mockery. “I found it earlier and needed a pick-me-up.”

“Did you find more?”

“Nope. Just the one.”

“But…” you pout. “I wanted it.”

He holds the empty can out to you. “It’s grown on me.”

“I’m about to die without the sweet taste,” you whine, shaking the can to make sure there’s nothing left.

“You’re so obnoxious.”

He rolls his eyes and cups your jaw, leaning in to press his lips against yours. You don’t protest when he dips his tongue past your lips to rub against yours. You can taste remnants of the drink on his tongue. If Hot6 wasn’t your favorite drink before this, it is now.

“Better?”

“Maybe. Still not sweet enough.” You giggle.

He takes the opportunity to kiss you again, crushing your mouth against his in a deeper kiss. You’re practically melting into him as his tongue glides against yours, moving in a rhythm that you now crave. It’s so easy to forget everything else, where you are, what’s happened to you. He moves to straddle your lap, grinding down intentionally as he grips the back of your neck. He knows you’re half-hard already and fuck if he doesn’t just want to have you again. You’re the only thing that feels real right now.

He pulls down the zipper of the hoodie you’ve given him to allow access to his neck. It’s not until he allows you to latch onto the sensitive flesh there, with his hands buried in your hair, that he notices the security mirror. You’re so hot. He wants to be in you so badly but he’ll settle for you being in him right now.

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

Suddenly he notices the other person in the mirror. Jin is sitting cross-legged on the floor in his invisible prison, resting his chin on a hand as he stares back through the reflection with eyebrows raised. Yoongi quickly clears his throat and climbs off of you. You blink in confusion at the disruption until he points at the mirror and then you cast your gaze at the floor.

“We should take care of this.” He runs his fingers through his hair to compose himself before placing the cap back on his head and focusing his attention back on the computer.

“Wow, you almost went there with me watching. That would have done it for sure,” Jin says, breaking into a grin.

“Come on!” you shriek, popping up from behind the counter. “Please, just change us back.”

“I told you. I can’t,” he repeats firmly. “I actually don’t lie as often as you seem to think I do. Maybe you should try having sex. They say the soul leaves your body for an instant when you reach the finish line, you know. It can’t hurt. Ohhhh wait a minute...”

He jumps to his feet after watching the guilt flash across your face. Your eyes seem to dart around him, but never land close enough to his. Blood rushes through your ears, drowning out all the sounds that aren’t your heartbeat.

He smiles wickedly. “Oh my god, you already did. I mean, I get it. Who wouldn’t be curious? It’s only human to wonder. Oh, to be human… Seriously, have you tried talking about your feelings?”

You turn towards Yoongi and crouch back on the floor, disappearing from Jin’s view. He steps on his tiptoes to try and see around the counter before settling back on the security mirror. You can’t help but focus on his nosiness.

“Yoongi. I... Look. Can we go in the back? I need to talk to you. Privately.”

Jin clicks his tongue and sighs as the pair of you cross the store and slip into the door that reads ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY.’ You breathe a sigh of relief when Yoongi locks the heavy door behind you. He bites at his nails--your nails as he waits for you to say whatever you need to. You take his hands into yours.

“Things are weird right now and not just because of this,” you hold up his hands in yours. “Are you regretting everything now?”

He smirks and gives you a small laugh. He slinks away to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t regret anything. I mean what I said. I care about you. I just… I get embarrassed, I guess.”

He’s embarrassed? You didn’t think he was capable with how blunt he normally is. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m insecure. Sexy, right?”

Time seems to slow as he draws near. There’s a lighthearted laugh on his lips before they meet yours. It feels like the first time all over again. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you throw your arms around his neck, desperate to get closer even though you’re already pressed up against each other. You lean into him as you gasp in his hot breaths between kisses. To counteract the weight you’ve pressed against him, he pushes you backwards. Your arms fly back to catch yourself as you stumble but you knock into a freestanding shelving unit. Cans of soup clatter to the floor and roll off in various directions as Yoongi steadies the rack to keep it from falling.

He sighs, dropping his forehead to your shoulder in defeat. “We should focus.”

You whimper and will yourself to move the pair of you away from the wire rack. You run your fingers through your hair and attempt to compose yourself. Everything feels like a dream. It’s hard to think with him consuming the majority of your thoughts. You clear your throat, hoping your mind will also clear with the action.

“Hey,” he says, fingers on the latch. He pauses to lock eyes with you. “It might have seemed like the heat of the moment, but I really mean what I said. So tell me you’ll stick around after this is done?”

You run up and lace your fingers in his free hand before giving it a firm squeeze. “Promise.”

As he opens the door Jin jumps like you’ve startled him with your presence. “Whoa, I thought maybe you’d murdered one another. I heard a loud bang.” His gaze drops to your entwined hands. “What? Did you finally embrace destiny?”

“Destiny. No destiny. It doesn’t matter,” Yoongi says calmly as he squeezes your hand. “This could all be a dream. But we’re here now. We care about each other in this moment. That’s real. That matters.”

Jin does a slow clap while grinning from ear-to-ear. “Wow! It usually takes people a few days, maybe a week!” He looks at his wrist as though he’s wearing an invisible watch. “It’s been, what, a day? You did good.”

“Does that mean you’re going to help us now?” You perk up immediately.

“I mean I think you’ve helped yourselves. You look happy. You’re comfortable, right? Can’t you just let me go and keep existing like this?”

When he’s met with silence he sighs. “Ahh, well there is one more thing you can do, I guess. Have you tried checking your pockets?”

His suggestion is met with eyerolls from the both of you. While nonsensical, the unexpected has become a staple of your current state of existence and you feel you owe it to yourself to at least entertain the possibility. Your fingers slip into your pocket and explore the ridges of the hard object nestled against the fabric. Excitement courses through you as you pull your half of the locket from the confines of your sweatpants. Dumbfounded, Yoongi sticks a finger into his tight jeans and fishes the other half of the necklace out of his pocket.

“Hah, I can’t believe you didn’t even look,” Jin says with a laugh. “Now put them on, place the pieces together and say ‘Me Hoy Nimoy.’”

You exchange a skeptical look with Yoongi but you both comply and blurt the phrase soon after linking the pieces of the necklace together. You hold your breath, waiting for something spectacular to happen but disappointment soon floods your lungs. Just as you’re about to speak up, Jin clicks his tongue.

“Ah, close your eyes. It won’t work if you’re watching.”

Yoongi grumbles. “You’re fucking with us.”

“Hey, some magic is shy. Follow the rules. Do you think I’m just making this all up?” he pouts.

Your answer comes in unison with Yoongi’s: “Yes.”

Jin looks hurt as he clutches a hand over his heart and staggers backwards. “Woooooow. Well, just do one more thing then. ”

A devilish grin soon replaces the expression and his squeaky laughter fills up the store. He points at the pair of you with both fingers and wags his fingers in circles. You feel compelled to turn in place. Yoongi matches the uneasiness in your gut with the panic in his eyes. You both spin in circles away from one another. Once. Twice. Three times. Just as you’re about to complain about the nausea churning fresh waves in your belly, Jin waves his hands inwards.

You’re lifted into the air. The toes of your sneakers leave behind squeaky skidmarks of rubber on the tile as the pair of you are dragged forward. Jin cocks his head to one side and examines you with an expression of stone. For a split second you’re terrified but then he breaks into a grin and snaps his fingers. His thumbs and index fingers form the shape of a heart as he holds them out and you drop to the floor.

Yoongi reaches out for your shoulder. There’s a soft tremble to his fingers as he pulls you close to him. When you look upon his visage you can already see his jaw transforming, a thin stubble growing in along its perimeter. Every time you close your eyes to blink more of his face has morphed back into his own. You look down at your own fingers and watch as the nails narrow and elongate. A glossy pink hue returns to them but the polish looks slightly less finished with the way Yoongi has gnawed on the edges all day.

Suddenly Yoongi is frantically scrambling to his feet, kicking off his shoes and working the zipper down on his jeans. Everything is quickly growing far too tight. The hoodie you’d given him just barely covers his crotch as he stands up straight. He looks over at you with a relieved sigh and cups your jaw.

“You good?” he asks, rubbing the pad of his thumb across your chin. It takes all of your self-control to keep from licking it as it grazes your lip.

You nod, eyes falling to the necklace dangling over his sweatshirt. As soon as you reach out to yank it off, the trinket disappears in a puff of purple smoke with a clap of Jin’s hands. He holds them in place like a silent prayer just below his chin, a strained smile staining his face just above his fingers.

“So, here’s the thing. I’m gonna need you to hold up your end of the deal.”

“Fix my store first. Clean up this mess you’ve caused,” Yoongi says while taking a step in front of you.

Jin’s bottom lip protrudes into a pout as he eyes the puddle of cola on the floor. “I didn’t do that,” he complains under his breath.

It’s incredible how close he came to freedom, incredible and frustrating. His magic may not be able to touch or alter the circle, but you almost freed him with your ignorance. If the liquid had run close enough to seep into the chalk, he would be somewhere far more sunny and beachy right now. He’s earned a vacation for this milestone of success.

“Fiiiine,” he concedes.

With a snap of his fingers the store is spotless once more. While Yoongi inspects the area of the tile floor previously coated in cola and glitter, you glide your foot over the circle of chalk and break the seal that binds Jin to his current location.

“Finally…” he sighs, side-stepping out from the invisible barrier. “You’re welcome, by the way. Invite me to the wedding, okay? Don’t forget the little people who helped you on the way. As for me... I’ve got a date with the pearly beaches of Accord.”

He swirls his wrist in the air and the pair of ugly red mirrored sunglasses appear on his nose just in time for him to adjust them. He lowers the specs to give you a wink before snapping his fingers. Before you can even call out for him to wait, he’s gone in a puff of purple smoke that quickly dissipates. You’re left in stunned silence to contemplate your existence.

What are you supposed to make of everything?

As you stand there on the cusp of a mental breakdown, soft, velvety petals brush against your cheek to steal your attention. The scent of the flower overtakes your senses as Yoongi uses it to tickle your nose. You find him smiling back at you, almost like he’s too shy to speak, but then he does.

“Weird day huh? Can I have my pants back?”

You hum thoughtfully, making sure the shutters of the shop are still shielding you both from the outside world. “Would you mind if I wanted to get back in them later?”

He snorts, holding back a laugh. “Been waiting to use that all day?”

“No, I just thought of it right now. Aren’t I impressive?” you say, wiggling your eyebrows at him. You shimmy out of the sweatpants and leave them pooled on the floor, doing your best to walk past him with grace and seduction.

“So impressive.”

He offers an amused laugh when you bend over to pick up the garments he was so quick to discard when his transformation reverted. You spare a glance behind you to see if he’s looking at the way you so blatantly flaunt your ass. He’s in the middle of dragging his bottom lip through his teeth when your eyes steal his attention.

“Something wrong?” A wicked grin belies your innocent tone.

He exhales a long breath and shakes his head, turning his attention to pulling his pants up. “Impressive isn’t the word. You’re obnoxious.”

“Isn’t that your way of saying you wanna make out?”

He’s quiet as he takes off the remainder of your clothes to reveal a muscular chest riddled with goosebumps. It’s hard to hide how your grin spreads wider as he approaches with them in hand. You’ve had dreams like this: he’s shirtless, asking you to take off your clothes so he can fuck you in his store. Right here with your tits against the cold glass of the fridge. It would be a dirty secret only the two of you would know and you’d think about it every time you’d come in for your energy drink.

You slowly lift the hoodie from your own body, trying to appear as alluring as possible. You make sure to arch your back as your breasts briefly catch in the fabric and then drop against your ribs, completely exposed to the chilly air. Much to your dismay he’s quick to spin away from you and mutters a “thanks” instead of naughtier offers.

He’s aware you might mistake it for rejection, but he’s hoping you don’t see the way his fingers tremble. It’s incredible how scared he feels being back in his own skin. The intimacy of your connection left a void behind that’s quickly filling with disquiet. He feels incomplete without a piece of you with him, lost in the vast emptiness of himself. How can he feel such need for you? His chest aches with the possibility that he won’t ever feel whole again. The bravery that possessed him while piloting your body has waned. Now that normalcy is somewhat restored, he has the chance to start processing the events of the day. A part of him begins to embrace the panic he’d previously pushed down and his confession replays in his mind as though he’s just spoken it.

It was a bold move, especially given the situation. It could have ended horribly. He puffs out his cheeks and holds his breath, trying to remind himself that it didn’t. It’s okay to let go of the anxiety over it, but he still feels so uncertain. Even turned away from you and fully clothed, he’s never felt more exposed and vulnerable. He tries to hide the burning of his ears by running his fingers through his hair and shielding them with his arms. He has to bring himself back or else you’ll be talking him down from a panic attack and he doesn’t want you to see him like that.

Stupid. Stop throwing yourself at him. You struggle to put on the tight clothing as quickly as possible. Tears threaten to fall as you awkwardly wiggle your jeans back and forth up your thighs and over the swell of your ass. You make sure to swipe at the corners of your eyes before clearing your throat to signify you’re fully changed. He spins to face you but everything he means to say gets lost on the way to his mouth. He freezes, overwhelmed by how beautiful you are even in this shitty lighting, and how thankful he is to be able to see you through his own eyes.

His heart pounds at the confines of his chest like it needs to burst from within. There’s a small burst of adrenaline that plumes from the explosion of butterflies in his stomach. It fills him with the courage he needs to close the distance between you with a kiss, the kind of kiss he’s been dreaming of giving you for months. Right here in this store.

He loves how eager you are to reciprocate when he tangles his fingers in your hair. He holds you there like you’re about to melt away in a puff of smoke. Your lips are so soft, so sweet, so warm pressing against his. His tongue rolls over yours, desperate to keep tasting and feeling more. You grasp behind his neck and dig your fingernails into his shoulder as he deepens the kiss. When you roll your hips towards him as a subtle test for determining his hardness, you can feel him smile against your lips.

“Not in the store.” He gives you one more chaste kiss and pulls back just enough to allow you both to breathe. He adjusts one of the boxes on the nearby shelves. “You already drive me crazy. If we do it here I’m going to be thinking about it every time I’m stocking shelves.”

“Yoongi…” you whine. “Please tell me you’re keeping it closed for the day.”

He sighs as he plucks his phone from the counter to check the time. “Might as well.”

“Can I walk you home?” You chew on your lip as you wait for his response. What you wouldn’t give to spend the night with him.

Unable to hide the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he nods his head towards the exit. “Why would we waste our time?”

Your heart sinks into your butt, thinking this must be it. He changed his mind after all. He hates you. There’s no doubt about it now. All you can manage is a squeaky, “Hmm?”

He rests his palm on the handle of the door and he presses his lips into a thin line, looking wide eyed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so adorably hopeful and embarrassed at the same time. “You live closer.”

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╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The comforter at your back is soft and cool to the touch as you scramble to settle yourself against the pillows. Yoongi wastes no time wiggling off his sweatpants and climbing over you. The sound of your panting mingles with his as he hovers above you with his lips parted, trying to catch his breath. If the hurried ascent up the stairs wasn’t enough to have him gasping for air, the makeout session just inside your front door definitely has him devoid of oxygen. This still feels like a dream, but it’s one he doesn’t ever want to wake up from.

"How do you want it?" he whispers. He glides a finger up your thigh and lightly traces circles around your labia.

Your mind travels back to your earlier experience of coming undone and suddenly your stomach is doing flips.

"Just like this," you answer. "I want to feel you just like this. Do you remember where to touch?"

He nods, skimming his parted lips over yours while he places his finger over the hood of your clit. "Like this, right?"

"More pressure," you plead, working your hips in circles to coach his movements.

He does as you instruct and clamps his mouth over yours in a futile attempt to find relief for the aching need to be inside of you. He grinds himself against your side, his cock rubbing against your soft, heated skin as he tries to remember the exact motions needed to elicit enough pleasure to make you cum. He doesn't have to wait long until frenzied, weak moans are vibrating against his mouth so he turns his attention to your neck. He wants to hear how fucked out you are. He wants to hear how badly you want to cum. He wants to feel you pulse around his fingers.

As he plunges a thick finger deep into your cunt, a pathetic, desperate sound escapes you. "Oh, fuck."

"Feel good?" he mumbles into the hollow space between your neck and shoulder.

"Please. Please. Please. Please," you whimper incoherently, bucking your hips to meet each thrust of his finger. You can feel his cock rutting against your side and all you can do is imagine that he's pumping it into you instead of his fingers. "Oh fuck, Yoongi."

His lips twitch into a smile as he feels you tighten around his finger. He kisses your neck and sinks a second finger carefully inside you. You allow your head to fall against the pillow and bite your lip to try to contain the drawn out needy groan already helplessly spilling out of you. So close. Your back arches off the mattress and he wishes he wasn't so concentrated on the motions of his hands right now because he would absolutely love to be tonguing your perfect tits.

He pants against your skin and looks at them longingly. Maybe he can manage it? He's determined to use what he's learned about your body to help you cum, but not yet. You can't help but whine at the loss as he repositions himself, which breaks the sightline you had on your orgasm.

"Yoooongi... I was close..." You whimper when he abandons your cunt entirely to press your tits together. His mouth is hot as it clamps down on your nipple, giving the peak a hard suck before dragging it through his teeth.

"I know. Wanna make you cum with my tongue," he murmurs into the supple flesh.

He swipes his fingers along your cunt and swirls the wetness over your clit before bringing it to his mouth. You can already see how they glisten in the low light of your bedroom. The low moan that rumbles its way from his throat has you rocking your hips up against his pelvis as he settles between your legs. Your silent grinding isn't enough of a confirmation. He wants to hear you say it.

"Can I go down on you?" He blurts the shameless question while alternating between kissing both of your breasts and only pauses to meet your eyes.

You want to feel him everywhere but mostly you want his mouth on yours while he’s balls deep inside you. You don’t even care if you cum because being with him like this feels good. Being with him fills your heart with giddy hope and your stomach with butterflies. Being with him is enough. You want to tell him that but instead you nod and whimper out a pathetic “please.”

He wastes no time dipping his head down between your thighs to press the flat of his tongue against your clit. A low growl escapes with his exhale before he puckers his lips to kiss the soft skin and breathe in the heavy scent of your arousal. You’d be embarrassed if his tongue didn’t feel so magical. It glides against you so effortlessly, bringing pleasure with every quick flick against you.

Your hands dive into his hair and you start rolling your hips to grind his face harder against you. He doesn't seem to mind though. In fact he seems to embrace the motion, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you in as closely as possible. If you weren't so preoccupied with the orgasm building just below the surface of the place where his tongue keeps hitting then you might worry that he's suffocating himself. Right now all you can focus on is the pleasure threatening to break you open and leave you spilling a million curses into the air around you.

"Yoongi. Fuck. I'm close," you warn, as if the frantic way you've twirled his hair around each of your fingers isn't enough to tip him off. Do you really think he can't feel the shaking of your thighs in this moment?

He hums a sound like he doesn't hear you, but he doesn't let up at all. He keeps his pace steady for you as you approach your end once again. Your nails scratch against his scalp but he doesn't mind. He actually really likes the way you're losing your mind over the simple things he's doing with his tongue right now. He can't even begin to imagine the pretty sounds that might spew from your lips with practiced effort but he knows he can't wait to hear them.

Suddenly your hand flies up to pound the wall behind you and you announce the wave of pleasure coursing through your clit through the use of a loud string of expletives. He can feel the way your flesh pulses beneath his tongue and he revels in it. You ride his face so well. You can ride it for as long as you want as often as you want. He wants to tell you that but he also wants you to ride out your high for as long as it lasts, so he lets you buck your hips and raise your cunt off the bed. He lets you thrash around through the sensitivity until you're finally pushing his face off with both hands.

"Good? Do you need more?" he verifies, rising from between your legs to deliver a messy, wet kiss to your lips. He smirks through it, knowing he really doesn't need to ask at all to know the answer.

"Cheeky fuck," you murmur, not bothering to even attempt to hide your matching grin against him. "I need it."

"What do you need?" His fingers trail a soft line down your side, reminding you that his teasing nature is simply a front for his caring heart.

"I need you inside me." Your breathing is spotty as you pepper kisses along his jaw. "Like this. I want you to feel me the way I felt you."

It doesn't take long until you're tasting yourself on his lips again. He shifts slightly and you know he's lining himself up with your entrance when you feel the swollen tip of his fat cock nudging at your hole. He's slow to thrust into you. In fact he stills, only giving you shallow, teasing thrusts. He favors letting you wiggle down just a little bit to coax him in. He smiles against your lips and pushes in further, giving you that stretch you were hoping for.

When you suck in a sharp breath he pulls out, but as soon as you whine in protest, he's already carefully moving to slide it back in. The slow stretch has your jaw dropping open and he takes the opportunity to bite on your lower lip. You take the bait and feed him hungry kisses until he’s completely buried inside of your tight cunt. He takes a moment to growl a low sound that has you clenching around him.

“So tight,” he whispers, pausing to curl an arm beneath your head.

He presses the back of your hand against the mattress as he twines his fingers with yours. He drives himself deeper into you with each slow thrust and it feels like he still can’t get close enough. So you raise your other arm above you and angle it until you’re linking your fingers with the ones beneath your head. You kiss his cheek and savor the intimate moment.

When he lazily sinks into your cunt again you crack a smile. “Can't you fuck me harder than that?"

"Mmm." He lifts his head and seems to accept your challenge. His hips pull out slowly and suddenly slam back into you. This sets a new fervent pace that has you squeezing both of his hands. "What do you think? Is this better?"

You do little to actually answer his question and instead offer a slew of swears and moans each time his balls slap against your ass. "Shit. Fuck, fuck fuck. Yoongi..."

"What kind of answer is that?" he asks innocently.

"God, your cock..."

"Mhm," he prods.

"Feels so good, Yoon."

He chuckles. "Yoon... Cute."

"I'll show you cute," you huff.

"Oh?"

You release his hands in favor of pressing your palms against his chest. He pulls out and before you can miss the way he fills you, you're flipping him down on the mattress. You swing a leg over his pelvis and straddle him. It takes you a moment to properly position yourself. You give his length a few pumps in your hand before lining it up with your entrance.

"Careful," he warns, planting his hands on your thighs. "Don't wear yourself out."

You sink down quicker than you probably should. You're eager to make him cum faster than he did for you. The wetness in your core seeps down in translucent trails down your inner thighs. Your own brand of lubricant seems to be enough to keep the stretch pleasurable. Yoongi bites his lip as he gazes down at the way you're bouncing on his cock. You know how good it feels for him, especially with how hard your pussy is squeezing him.

"Don't worry about me."

The sensory overload building in your gut coated with the memory of the unique experience. It mixes with the high threatening to burn its way from your core. You take a deep breath and exhale loudly before you continue. You revel in a slow descent, memorizing every kind of way the stroke makes you feel. Then you begin to quickly draw him in and out of your cunt. The obscene sounds of wet, rapid slapping fill the room.

After a few minutes you've finally got a good rhythm down. Despite the cramp throbbing down your obliques, he's hitting that sweet spot inside you at just the right angle. If you didn't know any better you'd think you're about to cum again. You steady yourself on his chest and trail your hand to his stomach to maintain your balance. Trying to keep the unrealistic pace you'd previously set for yourself is proving difficult, but you swear you're feeling like maybe you're about to crest into the biggest climax of your life. Then again, it could certainly be the biggest letdown now that you're aware of it. Your orgasms have left you for less.

Yoongi knots his eyebrows together in concentration and he reaches down to rub circles against your clit. His fingers are clumsy and new to this angle but they're feather light. He can see in your face that you're chasing some great new high and he just wants to help you achieve it without overdoing it. He knows how shy your cunt is about giving you orgasms so he really wants to do it right. Is this right? He figures you'll tell him if it isn't.

You moan weakly in response. Suddenly, you know it's coming. You can feel it building every time his hips slap up to meet yours. "Oh my fuck."

His abdominal muscles flex beneath your palm and he forces his breaths through his nose as he struggles to keep himself composed. Your cunt is squeezing him so tightly that he knows he's on the brink of his own release but he's determined to help you feel as good as you make him feel.

"That's it. Cum for me again." He tries to coax it with those strong pleas, but his voice is broken with an inhale sharp enough to cut his words.

Both of your thighs are coated in slick sweat. You don't think you've ever felt so fucking wet in your life. He glistens just as much in the dim light so you know between the two of you there's a puddle of sweat soaking your sheets. It's easy to forget how gross or embarrassing it is when the tip of his cock rubs against your g-spot so well. Right now the only thing that matters is getting relief for this pressure building behind your clit.

Despite the shakiness of his fingers, he's able to coax it out of you. Your trembling thighs feel like an earthquake that's finally reached its peak tremor and you find yourself crying out and bouncing to the rhythm of your spasming cunt. You chant your praises and curses in the same breath. His name is a drawn out breathy expression of gratitude and bliss. As soon as you slump forward to kiss him he takes your hands in his own and frantically pumps himself up into you. He can still feel the involuntary flex of your cunt even after you've clearly expended every ounce of your energy reaching and literally riding out your second orgasm.

"Can I cum inside?" he asks between frantic breaths.

"Well, you're not gonna make it to these tits," you tease with a smirk. You may be spent but you'll always have the energy to give him shit. "Do it."

"So fuckin hot," he mumbles against your lips.

The muffled grunts expelled against your mouth and the slow, deliberate snap of his hips leave you in a state of surreal euphoria. He squeezes your hands in his along with his release to let you know this is real. You're here with him. When he comes down from his high he kisses you gently one more time and pulls back to look at you. You take the break in physical connection to roll off of him and stretch out your aching calves and let the air from the fan cool your skin. The tingling in your legs tells you not to get up right now, as much as the fear of a UTI screams at you to do the contrary. Instead you turn your head towards Yoongi and he smiles at you. Sleep threatens to take you when he begins to stroke your hair.

"If you'd have told me last week I'd feel this close to someone, I'd have laughed at you," he starts in a quiet voice, "but I feel really close to you. I'm glad this insanity happened to us."

"Me too." You can't help but smile back. "I don't want to go to sleep because I'm afraid you'll be gone when I wake up. What if this is a dream?"

"Then I'll find you when I wake up. You'd better find me too."

"What if we forget?"

He grabs your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckles. "I won't forget."

"Promise?"

"Mhm." He closes his eyes, clearly every bit as exhausted as you are. He's quiet for a minute and you think maybe he's already fallen asleep until he peeks out from under his eyelids. "... I think you need glasses."

"What?"

"I was just thinking. I felt like I was squinting all the time when I was you. Maybe that's why it took you so long to see how I felt." He shows off a big, toothy grin.

"Wow that guy really rubbed off on you, huh?"

You smack him in the face with a pillow when you get up.

╭⋟────────────────────────╮

╰────────────────────────⋞╯

The muffin and can of Hot6 sit on the counter, guarded by Yoongi's forearm.

"Wow, you already have my stuff ready? Is this the kind of perk I get for dating the owner?" you wonder.

He rolls his eyes. "Not yours until you pay for it."

"You're so sweet, not eating my muffin this time."

He drags his lip through his teeth and tries to hold back a devilish smirk. "I've found better things to eat, don't you think?"

Your heart thumps against your chest and you do your best to remind yourself that offering to suck his dick behind the counter is not what you should be doing in this situation. But you want it so bad. He watches your internal struggle with raised eyebrows and a smug smile. He slides the energy drink towards you.

"Here. This is on me today. You look a little thirsty."

Your shoulders raise and then deflate with your sigh. "Do you even want me to come back later?"

"What? It's free for you. You should be happy."

"And the muffin? What do I owe for that?"

He mimics your dramatic sigh and places it before you. "It's crazy. Your boyfriend offered to pay for that too."

"He's so generous." You shake your head but it can't keep the grin from your face. "Lots of free stuff today."

"It's a... special for today only. So don't get used to it or anything. But there is one more thing we're having a sale on, if you're interested."

"Hmm?"

"Free of charge, for you only." He taps his lips with both pointers, looking impossibly cute. His charm is devastating, really.

He cracks a smile and you feel yours grow impossibly wider. You lean over the counter and give him a sweet kiss.

"How long does this offer last?"

"As long as you want."

"Forever."

"Forever, it is." He gives you one more quick peck. "I've gotta mop the floor and you're gonna be late for work."

"Ugh. Wanna trade?"

He purses his lips and gives your hand a little squeeze. "Not a chance."

#smutcentralnet #yoongi smut #bts smut #similarly sequestered #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader

[plus-size-reader]

Crush

Philip “Lip” Gallagher x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1726 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Lip develops a crush on the reader, Fiona’s childhood best friend

——————————————————————————————————

Fiona'd had friends of hers in and out of the house since Lip was a kid, but no one more so than you.

You were arguably her best friend in the entire world and everyone knew it. For the better part of both of your lives, you’d been inseparable and it was only natural that you get close with the rest of her family.

In a way, for them, it was like you were a part of their family, and even Frank spoke highly of you, which in itself was a feat. They just all seemed to love you.

Unfortunately though, as Lip got older, he didn't seem to feel the same way.

It wasn't that he didn't love you, because he did, and you were very important to him. It was just that he didn’t feel the same way for you that the rest of the Gallaghers did.

More than anything, he was in awe of you for everything that you were. You were confident and gentle, with more heart and soul than anyone he’d ever known. You were sweet, and caring, while also being a huge badass.

To Lip, you were everything.

...But he knew the truth.

You saw him as nothing more than your best friend's annoying baby brother, and that was never going to change. What did change though was how Lip wanted you to see him.

He didn’t want to be that in your eyes, not when he could be so much more.

Not that you could ever know that.

Lip was positive that he would die if you ever found out how he really thought about you. Nothing could ever be more embarrassing, especially because he had a pretty good idea of how it would go.

You were the one woman in the world he couldn't be confident around, and it had everything to do with the history you two shared.

You had helped Fiona raise him; and Ian, and Deb, and Carl. Hell, even now, you picked Liam up from daycare three days of the week.

You knew everything about every single one of the Gallaghers and the crush that Lip harbored wasn't going to be anything more than a cute little joke.

What you didn't seem to realize was that Lip was a grown man now.

He didn't need you to take care of him now, not anymore.

You were no longer the girl who came around and bothered him when he tried to hang out by himself, and you certainly weren't the girl who'd found his playboys under his bed and put them back without a word anymore either.

You were attainable, as far as age, feelings, and experience went but that didn't mean that Lip could make you his.

Every member of his family was too invested in all this for him to start going out with you, not to mention that Fiona would never allow it. She would sooner end his life than let him be with you.

So Lip kept quiet.

It was much easier to do than opening that can of worms.

He opened the refrigerator door slowly, his hand lazily falling on the neck of the bottle. It was as if the motion was a habit by now, and he didn't even have to think about it.

Across the kitchen was you, giggling at whatever was being said over the phone. He didn't know who you were talking or what it was all about; all he knew was that you were having an amazing time.

There was nothing Lip wouldn't do to hear that laugh but he just wished that he could be the one making you act that way.

Knowing that he couldn’t was more than enough to anger the younger male, who slammed his near-empty bottle down on the counter without a word and stormed out.

You hadn’t really been paying attention to him before that, but you couldn’t help but notice that he was gone. It would have been impossible not to but what you didn't know was why?

It certainly couldn’t have had anything to do with you.

You had just been on the phone with your cousins in Jersey. They spent most of the time arguing with one another more than talking to you, but they were also a laugh riot.

...But Lip didn’t know that.

In his mind, you had been laughing and carrying on with the greasy yet somehow charming usher from the theatre who loved you. He hit on you all the time and it wouldn’t have surprised Lip if you’d hooked up with him.

There was no way for him to think about it that didn't make his blood boil.

You were his, you just didn't know it yet.

~ Normally, you would have let Lip be.

Sometimes he could be dramatic and it was possible that he’d just gotten upset about something else and you’d read the room wrong. However, you had a feeling that wasn’t the case.

So, naturally, you went to go check on him.

If you were wrong, you could just move on and go about your business, but if you were right, you might be able to make him feel better.

“Hey kid, what’s going on?” you asked, knocking lightly on his door frame to let him know that you were there. You didn’t want to say anything if he was busy, but he didn’t seem to be.

In fact, he was far from it.

Lip was just sitting there on his bed, his beer bottle long discarded on the floor. It was funny, or perhaps it would have been, if he wasn’t so clearly upset.

“Don’t call me that” he snapped, catching you off guard.

There was something so pointed and aggressive about the way he spoke and it shocked you. Maybe you had done something after all, but you had no idea what it was.

“Okay, sorry. Is there something going on?” you asked, doing your very best to be understanding, even though you were more and more confused with each passing moment.

You were just lost.

Nothing that was happening made any sense at all to you.  

“No, why would there be?” he questioned, that accusatory tone still evident in his voice.

You weren’t even sure why he wouldn’t just tell you what it was, but since you were clearly gonna have to pull it out of him, you sat down.

“Out with it?” you suggested, though you both knew it was more of an order. If he didn’t want you to call him a kid, he’d have to stop acting like one.

Usually, Lip was the most mature of the Gallagher siblings but times like these made you wonder if that was true. It didn’t really make sense that he couldn’t just tell you what was wrong.

He sighed at first, the deep sort of sigh that you’d gotten used to hearing in this house. Someone always had a problem that needed to be worked out, even Lip, apparently.

“I don’t like that you talk to that guy, he’s trash, even more than most of the people around here” he commented finally.

There was a casualness in the way he spoke, though you could see just how hard this was for him in his eyes.

“Who? What are you talking about Lip?” you asked, genuinely confused this time. Clearly he thought you were talking to someone else but you had no idea who it could be.

You haven't been seeing anyone new lately.

“That guy from the theatre, what’s his name-” He huffed, scrambling a little when it came to his name. Lip had always been so focused on how much he hated him that he didn’t pay attention to what he said.

All he knew was the guy was not good enough for you and he was tired of hearing about him.

“I haven’t talked to him in forever. Why do you even care?” you asked, finding it hard not to be offended that he clearly didn’t think very highly of you.

He assumed that you were just going out with whatever guy paid attention to you, and honestly, that hurt. You had never been that kind of girl, but even if you had, it wasn’t really his business.

“Because, you’re way too good for a guy like that” he groaned, going for broke. The cat was out of the bag and there was no getting it back in now.

Gingerly, Lip reached out to take your hand in his own, his fingers brushing over the back of your knuckles slowly. The skin of his hands was noticeably rougher than yours, likely to working construction over the summer, but you didn’t mind.

Instead, you chose to ignore the strange feeling that overtook you at the touch. This was Lip, and the fact that you were even in this position was not alright

You’d known him all your life.

“Lip-” you started, but he stopped you before you could continue.

He knew that as soona s you said what you needed to say, this would be over and he at least had to get out what he was thinking before that happened.

If this ruined any friendship you'd ever had, he had to know that he got it all out there.

“I care because the right guy for you is right here, I always have been” he continued, startling you with his admission but he was far from done. Lip had been sitting on his feelings for so long, it was almost a relief to be honest.

“I know you probably think it’s just some stupid crush but it’s far from that. I’m in love with you”

By the time he’d finished, the male was almost entirely out of breath but neither of you minded. In fact, you were just trying to wrap your mind around what he was saying.

Lip was in love with you? How was that possible?

“I have to go” you decided finally, the walls of the room felt like they were closing in and you could hardly even breathe. It was ridiculous that you were even considering this, but you couldn’t help it.

Was it possible you cared about him in that way? Then, as if you hadn’t been handed enough, you realized something. What happened when Fiona found out?

#Lip Gallagher #Phillip Gallagher #shameless #lip x reader #lip x ps reader #lip x plus size reader #lip imagine #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher x ps reader #lip gallagher x plus size reader #lip gallagher imagine #shameless x reader #shameless x ps reader #shameless x plus size reader #shameless imagine

[natsukitakama]

Aww, you're so sweet!🤍 It's ok, I understand you, I have classes too so I understant that writing can take time. Well then, if it's ok, could you please write smth for Gojo x sorcerer s/o? It can be really anything - like their everyday life, how they going on a missions together, some fluffy or angsty stuff, literally anything. Hope you're ok with this req and I'm not making it hard for you since it's not smth specified😅

Author note : Hi there ♡ than you for requesting ! And also for understanding haha. It took me more times than expected because I had to read a little bit and watch again (not that it bothers me lmao). Your request is absolutely fine, I actually don’t mind when things is general it gives me more room for manoeuvre you know ?  

Warning : No spoiler since I’m still an anime only for now / Fluffy / Slight nsfw / some swear too I apologize 

Masterlist 

I already said it on my previous request but being a sorcerer means Gojo might be « distant » with you. Not that he didn’t find you attractive or enjoy you being around him (he craves for attention). But yes at first he doubted that you were interested on him because of him (he knows he is difficult to live with) or because of his position, money etc. But it doesn’t mean he won’t date a sorcerer. 

Times after times when you two became not only lover but friends, when he realized that you didn’t give a damn as much as him, when it came to sorcerer’s world. When he realized that you wanted to change it as much as he wanted too, I’m not saying that he would give you his heart but he will start to see you not just because he appreciates you but as a person. 

And that’s how he started to fall in love. 

Now being in relationship with you got his good point, you can understand (or at least got an idea) of his struggle as the strongest sorcerer, you can go on mission with him so it means you could spend time with him, both you can train together, he would be more confident too in the idea that you’re able to defend yourself (even if he would never let anyone curse put a finger on you, they would be dead before thinking about it). 

Before starting just a warning : not because you’re sorcerer mean he acte more like a grown up, no just give up on this he is bubbly and would remain the same, also he is possessive and hella protective no matter if you can defend yourself. 

That being said, how its like to date him as a sorcerer ? 

First, if you’re member of clan that mean both of you is supposed to go into the usual meeting, but since you’re dating him it also means that not only him but you would be late. It’s good thing that you didn’t give a damn (even if you hated getting late). So after getting scold for being late, you would assist on the meeting and well, one advise just don’t sit close to Gojo. He hates those meeting, he got him nervous, it’s source of stress for him so it needs something to relieve. That thing is you. 

It means that yeah he would tease you during the whole speech, sometimes he would tickle you, sometimes he would whisper dirty things on your and would lick it slightly, mentioned how he want to just throw you in the center and just fuck you roughly at least both you would be here for something, sometimes he went as far as to touch you and I’m not talking about him grabbing your hands : he would stroke your ass if he can have an access on it, he would stroke your thigh anything just to flustered you. He loves meeting because he knows he has you to keep him entertaining. 

If you’re not a member, he might insist on taking you with him since you’re still a part of the sorcerer society. Not matter what people would say, he doesn’t give a damn, if he says you’ll be here with him, you would. Exception, if you told him you don’t want to, or if you’re busy with something he won’t push it will whine and except you to give him extra attention and foods for letting him alone. During time like this he would sext you during the whole meeting he has no chill and no one would dare say something, he knows that and is not afraid to take avantage of it. 

When it came to you daily routine, do not expect anything out of ordinary. I mean if you can you would share a breakfast together, shower together (100% end up with your chest against the wall while he is having his fun with you) but then you would have to either go in a mission together or he would go for his teacher duties while you would leave for you own activity. Sometimes, you wake up with him not being here anymore cause he had to leave earlier for a mission, expect something like a breakfast ready for you or at least a little word on his bedside to apologize (also even if he is on mission, he would easily call you while fighting a cursed because he missed you, also whines a lot). 

When you two leave for a mission, there isn’t much to do I mean if you can manage the curse Satoru would gladly let you do your job while getting a little bit too excited because you’re way too hot, too badass (yeah he is like your number 1 cheerleader), if you’re taking too much time he would whine and complain though. Mostly because he wants you to do it quickly so you could spend the rest of the day cuddling because obviously he would come back with you at the Tokyo school once he is satisfied with the time you two spent together 

So if you’re taking too much time he would just end this like with a snap of his finger (that mother..) and while you’ll be angry at him for taking care of your business, he would just throw you on his shoulder while patting your ass and laughing at the same. 

Then you two would spend quality time together, having lunch, chilling together (movie, even taking a nap together) 

And then Satoru would be scold for taking way to much time on « easy » case which obviously he couldn’t care less, again he is Satoru Gojo what possibly could the old man (except getting on his never ?). 

Do not take me wrong he is afraid of being scold by the principal and you, especially getting scold by you. Cause it means no Mochi and Cuddle for Satoru, and he couldn’t tolerate that (deprive him from his precious Mochi what kind of torture is that ?). But then he would find a way to your sweet spot, one stroke from your cheeks, a little pout of him, and a little complain about how little time you two could spent together because of your job and so yeah he just managed time on his own. 

How could you be angry against him ? He knows he is cute and your weak for his puppy eyes 

But that’s is when you two could spend mission together, obviously Gojo is way more busier that you (still a teacher and a sorcerer) so he tends to outside more often than you even thought you’re pretty busy yourself. Except a lot, of chitchatting at worst time. I swear he knows when you’re currently struggling to hold your domain expansion or your spell and this is when he decided to text you about a video he saw on YouTube that make him laugh. And if you’re not answering at him, he calls you. 

Yes. You’re bleeding the shit out of you but that fucker is upset because he didn’t have enough attention from you he’ll FaceTime you at the worst moment.

Although sometimes when got bored during a mission he would flirt with you. It’s the rule. He doesn’t care that they are plenty of cursed around you, you’re hot and he wants attention

*cough cough*  sorry about that 

Sometimes when you got hurt during a mission and unfortunately Gojo wasn’t there to take care of that damn curse; he is getting really pissed. He won’t show it but everything can feel it, the tension is here all around him, everyone could feel so pressure whenever something happened to you. 

He barely left your bed even though you’ve been healed by Shoko, he won’t, he insists on watching you just in case. Will hold your hand during your healing process. After your accident, good luck cause he would NEVER let you on your own. Going to the bathroom ? He is right behind the door waiting for you, Going for some shopping he didn’t got money for nothing, don’t ever think about leaving for a mission either him or Nanami (cause he would bother him until Nanami decided that yes he would watch you just to be sure) would be their by your side. 

You mean everything for him. 

At some points, he would talk to you about his whole projet, about how he is about to kick those old prick out of the system and expect you to be by his side too (which won’t be too difficult considering most of them are ass***) 

Also, if students were kinda suspicious about you (like who could even be healthy enough to date Gojo ?) they quickly understand why Gojo loves you so much to the point both of you became their parent. 

So sometimes you’ll be there to take care of their lesson since Gojo in his good fashion way decided to be late or just leave to buy a new mocchi. You’re kinda became Gojo-sensei 2.0 

Everyone loves you and when Gojo appears to finally be the teacher he is, they all whine about missing you. Later than day he would whine while being on your arm, about how you stole his students from you. 

You didn’t you were just a better teacher than him but he is not ready for that conversation. So instead, you just stroke his hair telling him how wonderful he is, about how obviously everyone loves him they’re just shy about it. Stroke his ego and he won’t even be concerned about his lack of skills. 

#request #Gojo Satoru #Gojo Satoru x reader #Gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #Jujutsu Kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu sorcerer #Satoru Gojo #Gojo Satoru headcanon #Gojo x you #Gojo Satoru x you

[shoechoe]

fanon vs canon doppio

 so, doppio in the jojo fandom is usually characterized as a cutesy, innocent cinnamon roll. people call him “babey”, say things like “doppio did nothing wrong”, and make cute little sparkly heart icon edits with him.

 although, to be honest... this is almost absolutely nothing like how Doppio acts canonically. In fact, he’s pretty damn violent and aggressive.

I mean, seriously. The dude literally tried to gouge someone’s eyes out.

You could argue that that was Diavolo and not Doppio due to the eyes and the sudden change of attitude, but I don’t think so. Right after this, Diavolo calls Doppio and tells him that the driver actually didn’t see the photo, and so he doesn’t need to kill him. If the person who attacked the driver was Diavolo, why would he then call Doppio to tell him to back off?

Doppio lashes out several times throughout Vento Aureo. He tries to murder at least two or three people, including Bruno, Risotto, and some relatively innocent civilians (diavolo is the one who actually stops him from successfully doing these). He’s literally a high-ranking mafia member and has most likely been one for years.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a doppio hate post or anything. I actually love Doppio, and he’s one of my favorite characters in part 5 (and to be honest, he’s still very cute- I think his design and first few opening scenes were intentionally supposed to be cute and innocent looking, so his true violent nature was more of a surprise. Risotto even points this out once by saying “You’re a walking contradiction!”). I just think it’s interesting how much Doppio content in the fandom deviates from canon.

I feel like, in the fandom, Doppio is a character who is very infantilized. Even when the fact that Doppio is extremely violent and genuinely dangerous is brought up, it’s downplayed, bigtime. “He’s a feral baby, uwu. He would never hurt a fly if the Boss didn’t tell him to. Diavolo is the much worse one out of the two, anyways.”

Another interesting thing I see is that I’ve heard some people say that Doppio was somehow being forced to work for the Boss, and that he wanted to stand up to him, but couldn’t. 

This is strange to me, because... this is blatantly not what their relationship was? It’s clear from the way that Doppio and Diavolo interact that Doppio does genuinely like his boss, and willingly does work and shows affection for him. He even seeks for his approval, going “Praise me, Boss!!” after successfully chopping Risotto’s foot off.

Now, of course, Diavolo is still definitely much worse than Doppio, for several reasons. There is the fact that Diavolo is a grown adult, and still very much manipulating Doppio by keeping so many things from him, and that Doppio is just a teenager going along with the only person who ever gave him any sort of respect and attention. Diavolo also sells drugs to children and has murdered a fuckton of people. Doppio has likely killed people before, but not to the degree that Diavolo has, and he didn’t sell any drugs.

However, the fact that Doppio is basically Diavolo’s right hand man would mean that either Doppio is unaware of (which is pretty unlikely), or openly supported his Boss’ actions. That’s still pretty bad. I feel like it’s pretty apparent that Doppio didn’t do “nothing wrong”.

I could also say the same thing about how Narancia fanon is, too. The dude literally pulls a knife on his ally in the first/second episode that he’s in and murdered several people- not at all an “innocent baby, uwu”.

I’ve seen a lot of people who are annoyed by this fandom portrayal, and I can definitely understand that. Personally, I’m not really annoyed by it. sometimes i can enjoy it. it’s kinda cute.

but I do kinda want more Doppio content that’s more accurate to canon. that’d be pretty cool.

#jojo #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #doppio #vinegar doppio #doppio jjba #doppio jojo's bizarre adventure #vinegar doppio jojo's bizarre adventure #does this post have a point? eh not really #i just like talking about doppio #i love him so much ;( #but baby uwu that did no wrong? lol no #shoe talks a lot

[verytiredblob]

My reviews on Manhwas

Alright so, recently I've began to fall into the great Manhwa hell, as if I didn't have enough fandoms.

But I neither have friends to chat about this with, nor a Discord chat where I can fanby about it, so I just decided to throw it in here.

These are both Manhwas I recommend and my opinions on them. If there are any spoilers, They will be striked through and in blue for anyone that wishes to avoid them (if anyone even reads this lol).

1. The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass (악녀는 모래시계를 되돌린다)

Premise: Aria was a terrible person and was sentenced to dead by being beheaded. In her final moments, she discovers her step sister, Mielle, actually manipulated her during her entire life just so she could get Aria killed. She then is beheaded, and wakes up in the past, in her child body. So now, she must work to both survive and get her revenge on her sister.

Lovely story, and my first Manhwa. The art is simply stunning, and all the characters are very flashed out and developed. Aria (MC) is the pettiest person alive and I'm here for that.

Also, I noticed a trend where, even though the manhwa has "Villainess" in the title, the MC is usually a total angel. Well, not here. Aria is egotistical and a total Diva, she has her goals and one of them is her revenge and by all that is sacred she'll get it.

Mielle is a great villain, she has grown a lot in her own pettiness and tactics since she was a child, and I really like that. Also, watching her suffer for being a terrible person is delightful.

The Male Lead (Asher) is also really cool, I like how he's both witty and friendly, and how much he truly admires Aria and her achievements.

The side characters are also pretty good, and they get a lot of focus because of their interactions with the main cast.

Again, The art is S T U N N I N G. Look at this:

Literally all panels are drawn like this or better, I'm in love.

All in all, an awesome read, 10/10, I love this a lot.

2. The Monster Duchess And Contract Princess (괴물 공작가의 계약 공녀)

Premise: Leslie's life was terrible, and always centered on her big sister, Eli. After a failed attempt of her family to grant Eli her sister's skills and knowledge, Leslie searches for the feared "Monster Duchess" in an attempt to survive.

Another one with incredible art AND incredible characters. Leslie is an absolute angel, and seeing her grow as a person is awesome.

The gender envy I feel with the Duchess is unbearable, she's utterly perfect. And the entire family is so dotting and loving and sweet, my little grinch heart can't take it.

She's perfection, really.

The plot keeps getting more and more mysterious, and I'm here for it!

I love each of the main characters a lot, and even the villains are well done and fuel your hatred.

Also, Eli Sperado and her Dad can choke on those black flames for all eternity.

Another 10/10, although I must warn anyone that wishes to read this that the translations sometimes are very spotty and messy, so it can be a bit annoying.

3. I'll be the Matriarch in this Life (이번 생은 가주가 되겠습니)

Premise: Firentia was a girl that died in Korea in her past life, and was reborn into an influential family as the illegitimate daughter of the third son. Her life was pretty terrible, with in the end, her family ending up in poverty and disgrace because of her uncles and cousins, while she was exiled from the family. After another accident, she wakes up in her past, now with a goal: Become the Lombardi matriarch and stop the other family heirs from bringing it to ruin.

Awesome art and Awesome plot number 3! This is so good, genuinely. Firentia is such an awesome plotter, and her goals and actions are very well developed.

The Male Lead is my baby and I shall protect him, and the side characters? Utterly stunning.

The twins are the cutest fucking shit, seriously. Like, look at these two?? I'm dead. Although, all the children are very, veeery cute.

I like how Firentia subtly manipulates things around her to get what she wants. It's similar to Aria, but she's much more mature and knowledgeable, and has a much less petty goal.

Guess what? 10/10. Yeah, I know, I'm terrible at grading, sue me.

4. The Twins Siblings' New Life (쌍둥이 남매의 뉴라이프)

Premise: Arien and Arjen were a pair of twins that died in Korea, and were reborn again as twins and as the Emperor's illegitimate children. Now, with only each other to trust, they must do their best to survive.

My current obsession. I really like this one. The art is not on the same level of pure Awesome like the ones before, but it's pretty good nonetheless.

The plot is pretty nice, but I must warn you: DO NOT expect them to act like adults. Honestly, just forget they're meant to be reborn in this world. They're just normal children and that's it. They act like children, and they think like children. Honestly, I think the author just wanted to make this story about them as children and their producer went and said to make them reincarnates because that Isekai shit is popular nowadays (And to justify they having memories of their newborn days). Seriously, just ignore it, the experience reading will be much better.

Other than that, the story develops nicely. The characters are all very good and the plot is very mysterious. I am holding myself back to not spoil anything, aaaaa.

There is also only one another thing that disappoints me: Arien is very clearly the MC. The story is told by her eyes and we only know what Arjen thinks or feels when he says it 9 or by subtext). I really wish it was more balanced, because they're both different people and have different perspectives, and also I really like Arjen.

I have absolutely no idea where this plot is gonna go, and honestly? I like it. It's very rare when I don't know how things are gonna develop because of other stories, so it feels very fresh.

The brothers are freaking awesome. I was so scared they were going to hate the twins and be petty, because of other manhwas that are like that, but they're so loving and sweet?? All hail these idiots. Also, Daddy is the biggest dumbass of all, this poor clueless man.

An 8/10, because of the complaints above. Still a good read, and I really like it, even with it's defects.

4. I'm A Stepmother, But My Daughter Is Just Too Cute! (계모인데 딸이 너무 귀여워)

Premise: A seamstress dies of overwork in Korea, and wakes up in the body of Abigail, the vain Queen, and the evil stepmother to the princess Blanche. Yes, It's like she stepped into the world of Snow White, and she must now do her best to live and.. Dote on Blanche with toys and dresses as much as possible?

Again with the awesome art and nice plot. Why are there so many manga with awesome art?? I'm so envious.

May all hail this crispy, delicious art.

Abigail is a whole mood, and I enjoy how she is inserted into the life of someone who had already lived and had a reputation. Her actions baffle a lot of the characters, as do her motivations, and I'm here for it.

The King has also an amazing backstory that's very tragic and yikes. I enjoy it, really. Not something you see in men's backstories that much.

Also, I'm kinda saddened by the fact the MC and the king are bound to become an actual couple. They would be such good platonic friends stuck in a political marriage. I was robbed, y'all.

Abigail greatest ambition is to get to design a dress for Blanche and have her wear it, and you know what? Good for her! Sometimes, it's good to have an MC that is not plotting against world at large.

Also, her mirror? Verite is simply perfect, I love this guy. I non-jokingly ship him with Abigail more than her with the King.

Blanche is a sweetheart, she deserves to be in my "adopted children" wall.

For now it's more of a Slice of Life than anything? But I also don't know what happens in the novels, so I'm just going to wait.

For the current lack of a grater plot, this gets a 7/10. Still pretty good and entertaining, especially for when you just don't feel like trying to understand deep plots with lots of elements.

5. Beware of the Brothers! (그 오빠들을 조심해!)

Premise: Another one of those "I lived my life and then wake up in the past." Hari was adopted by this family after the death of their only daughter, and although her parents love her, her 3 older siblings very much don't. She lives a miserable life in their hands, and when it's the night before she is to get married and finally escape her brothers, she wakes up in the past, and has to deal with them all over again.

Another nice art one, and the background characters are very nice, as is the MC.

But for me, it has a big problem. And that problem is the main ship. It's Hari with her eldest brother, Eugene. Even though they are not related and yadda yadda yadda, they were raised as such, and thus it bothers me. Also, Eugene is as plain as white bread and just as generic when seen as the Male Lead.

I ship Hari with Johan, even though I know it's not gonna happen, Ugh, the pain..

For me, the main point in this is Hari's relationship with her other siblings and the other background characters. I'm here for that wholesome sibling interaction. Her relationship with Erich, specially, is awesome. I love these two so much

It also kinda lacks a plot? Other than the relationship development and their story as a family, but again, I have no idea how they will develop this.

Also, pet peeve? Why do they keep using Oppa instead of translating it properly as brother? I get honorifics and stuff, but it's so annoying.

I give it a 6/10. Good characters and good relationships outside of the bloody incest thing, and it's a good enough way to pass the time.

There are two more that I've read, buut it's like 4am and I'm sleepy as all hell, so I'll just add it in a reblog or attached post later, and I plan on doing this for other future manhwas as well.

Do you have any recommendations or comments or just wanna talk about any of these manhwas? Hit me up!

#The villainess reverses the hourglass #the monster duchess and contract princess #i'll be the matriarch in this life #I'm a stepmother but my daughter is just too cute! #Beware of the brothers! #manhwa #webtoon #manhwa recommendation #isekai

[stardancerluv]

Is There Love When Dating the King of Gotham?

Part 2 of 2

Summary: Roman worries about you.

Warning: Language, angst, implied smut

Note: Some gifs are from Halston (Ewan is amazing in it!)

When Victor formally and finally interacts with the girl he grows to love. (It’s rough...I want to edit it some...but you get the idea!)

Roman was confused. You had been so happy earlier. Maybe the marks, he mused. Well he did get enthusiastic but then again, this had been the longest he’d been away from you.

Looking around he saw no one noticed your little act or at least they pretended they didn’t. He was going to talk to you.

Sliding free of the table, he got up and made his way over to the elevator.

“Boss?” Zsasz stopped him halfway.

He slid his eyes over. “What?”

“Y/N is upset.”

He swallowed, he blinked looking at the scared man. “I noticed. Do you know why?”

He scratched the back of his head. “No.”

“All right. Is there anything else?” His annoyance continued to grow.

“Falcone is here early.”

“Really? Fuck.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s my first night back. He can fucking wait.” He straightened one of his cuffs.

“His assassin is with him.”

His brow furrowed. “Then go and talk to him. Tell Falcone my other meeting is running late.” Roman looked over at Zsasz and saw something was over his face. Was that a fucking sheepish look? He couldn’t believe it. “And why can’t you talk to him?”

“She’s a girl.”

“So?” He took a mental step back. “Compare your exploits!”

“But she is beautiful.”

“Yeah, Zsasz, are you fucking serious.”

“Yeah. I can’t chat her up.”

“You can. You both kill people. Start there.”

Zsasz’s eyes grew for a moment before darkening and narrowing again.

“Look, it’s true. You both,” Roman rolled his eyes. “You keep us respectively safe. Start there. I’m sure she’d love some of your stories.” He grinned thinking of some of lessons Zsasz had helped him send to his enemies. Times called for certain actions and Zsasz had helped greatly.

A smug razor thin smile spread across Zsasz’s face. “Really?” His features even brightened. “Seriously?”

He could not believe, he’d ever have to give his right hand man a pep talk. “Yeah. Now go over and charm her.”

His mouth twitched upward, before settling back down. “All right.”

*****

Roman was still shaking his head when the elevator announced its arrival at the penthouse.

The penthouse was dark walking further into it, he could only hear the sound of his steps as he walked.

Meeting the apex between the living and the business part of his penthouse, he paused. Seeing a glow of light coming from under the door of your studio, his heart lifted. Maybe you had a deadline and decided to work. Sometimes you worked too hard. Those clients of yours didn’t deserve you.

He slowly turned the knob and walked in. He stopped, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you looking crumbled in the middle of your studio. Feeling like this was new to him. Usually it was just him or his power and his club. Seeing you like this, he wanted to sweep you off your feet and into his arms. He wanted you to feel better. Taking a breath, he went over to you.

He knelt down and wrapped an arm around you. “Baby.” His voice came out as a purr, showing his concern for you wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. “What’s the matter?”

You pulled away from him. “What are you doing here?” You spat out.

“I was worried about you.” His voice came out darker than he intended but he wasn’t about to apologize.

“Worried the little bitch will run away while you are allowed to stray?”

Confusion mixed with his earlier annoyance. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Tears fell from your eyes. “You keep me like a kept bitch, while you’re the top dog. You do what you please, while you keep me close to keep an eye on me. Showering me with extravagant gifts, and you give me a good fucking so I don’t care when you see the next cute piece of ass.”

“Where the fuck is this coming from, is it because I marked you earlier?”

He did enjoy giving you expensive gifts. What else should he do with his fucking money besides getting a new suit or car. Or using it to maintain his power. And he’d be lying if he didn’t admit you were an amazing fuck, the best he’d ever had. But what the hell had gotten into you.

He thought you loved being his. Had you seen him talking with that new fucking singer, he wondered.

He really hating his actions being questioned. He was tempted to let you have your little fit and just go down to his meeting with Falcone. But he was also still tired from his trip, he did not need this. Especially from you.

“Roman.” Your voice cracked, and suddenly you pushed him. He slipped but didn’t lose his footing, his anger finally poured out of him.

He grabbed you then, he heard and saw you wince. “You fucking tell me what’s the matter or I’m going back downstairs, I didn’t come up here for you to scream at me.” He shook you a little. He didn’t like being rough like this with you. After being a punching bag, he didn’t like this. “I’d fuck you but I don’t want you to think I’m bribing you. So out with it.”

“I love you.” You finally spoke, your voice had grown scratchy. “Don’t you love me?”

His grip on your arms loosened. “Of course I do.” He swallowed.

“You’ve never said it. You leave notes to me with... With your initials.”

He pressed his lips together. “Baby, I spoil you.”

“I told you I don’t need any of those presents.”

“I’ve... well ki-”His voice trailed off. “I’ve corrected problems for you and people have paid for wronging you.”

“Yeah but...”

“My silly little girl,” He shook his head. The thought made his stomach churn. He had never really felt this way. He loved himself, so this churning felt good but it was new to him. “I love you. You’re the only one.” He exhaled, and he smiled. That had felt good, he smiled even broader when he saw the glow and flush come back to your face.

“Oh, Roman.”

He rose an eyebrow. “Is that where all this is coming from?”

You nodded.

He shook his head and sighed. “Look, you know me. I’m not sentimental. I’m actually quite a cold bastard. Not with you.” He grew serious. “Now, I won’t say it often but know that I do. Now, get rid of those fucking kept bitch thoughts, you are my girl...my baby...” He searched for an even better word. “You’re my princess.” He smiled. “That’s why I enjoy spoiling you so much.”

“Oh Roman, I just needed to know.” You threw your arms around him After a few breaths, he wrapped his arms around you. Damn, he never thought you could be as temperamental as him. He liked that you had a spark to you and he certainly loved all of you.

******

As Falcone droned on about territory and you quietly sipped at your drink, you placed a hand on Roman’s thigh. Idly, you had been enjoying the random brushing of Roman’s gloved fingertips on your shoulder as his arm rested above you on the cushion.

You were so glad that he had not walked away. You were bubbly finally knowing he did in fact love you. You squeezed his thigh at the thought.

You eyed Falcone, he was a large man, up and down. His right-hand woman of sorts who sat beside him, she barely had room. You could swear she had glanced at Zsasz a few times as he stood close beside Roman while the meeting went on. But who would make eyes at him. He was shut off with no sense of humor. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the thought.

From how Roman shifted beside you, it was evident he was growing bored. You glanced his way when he pulled the last olive off the cocktail pick. It clanked against the glass when he tossed it into the empty glass.

A smile blossomed from you while sipping your drink when his gloved hand went over yours. His eyes met yours briefly as he continued to nibble on the olive before looking back at Falcone.

*****

“Could Falcone be any more boring?” You asked as you felt Roman’s fingers drift near around the necklace.

He had helped you fasten it on before the two of you went back downstairs. Now with it the only thing on your body and you still felt clothed. Though now it meant so much more.

“Yes, I’ve had to sit alone with him.” A deep chuckle came from him, as he looked down at you.

“I suppose that could be rough.” You smiled at him, from where your head rested on his chest.

“I was imagining all the things I could do to you while you just wear this; entertained me for the last part of the meeting.” A smirk played on his lips.

“Oh really? Do you feel like sharing some of those ideas?”

A happy squeal came from you as he managed to pull you even closer to him. “We have a few hours before dawn, I suppose we could do a few of them.”

@spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @nebulastarr @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97-blog1 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-stories @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene @blackmasque @mrskenobi19 @bdffkierenwalker

#ewan mcgregor #femi!reader #roman sionis #ewan mcgregor imagine #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #ewan mcgregor angst #roman sionis imagine #roman sionis angst #roman sionis fanfiction #roman sionis x y/n #roman sionis x you #roman sionis x reader #black mask #black mask angst #black mask fanfiction #black mask x y/n #black mask x you #black mask x reader #part 2 of 2 #Is There Love When Dating the King of Gotham?

[prose-for-hire]

Childhood Sweethearts

Pairing: Cordelia Chase x fem!reader

Request: Hi! could i make another cordy request 🥺👉👈 i thought i would come off anon, for this one! How about cordy and reader are like childhood friends and she comes to sunnydale to visit and cordy is obliviabout readers feelings for her, and buffy is like “girl, are you blind, she likes you!” thank u! 🥺

Requested by: @onehellagaykid​

You and Cordy had grown up together. You were so close, you had gone through everything together. She was the sweetest, but only ever to you. She was very protective of you, of your friendship. To anyone else she was blunt and sometimes accused of being a bit of a bully in the playground.

But the truth was, she was one of the kindest souls you had ever met even at your young age you knew there was nobody else for you. You imagined a wedding, planning it in secret and hiding the pages under your pillow, longing for this dream to be realised.

You still wore the best friends necklace you bought together before she had to move away. Before she moved to Sunnydale. It was cheap, but it meant more to you than the most precious bond. 

It meant her. Her love. Friendship. You had one side of the heart pendant and she had the other.

You didn’t realise but she still wore it too. She had a more expensive taste now, but she did not want to part with it. She kept it under her clothes, snapping at anyone that dare say anything about it.

You were visiting Sunnydale for the summer. She had invited you to stay. You were so pleased, you had worried that she had forgotten about you.

The distance made you ache. Being apart from her, it almost physically hurt. You wanted to hold her hand, wake up to her face beside yours. You yearned for her in every sense, to have her attention for even a moment it made you happy beyond compare.

When she invited you, you worried that she may have changed. That she might not want to be your friend anymore. You knew she had been popular and you knew all about the things she faced in Sunnydale. You had met a vampire before and so you knew she wasn’t lying to you.

You spoke almost every week on the phone, shared all your secrets still, but you still worried that it may have changed when you saw her in person.

When you arrived, she embraced you in the biggest hug, gushing about how much she had missed you. It made you glow. Smile so wide. It was exactly like old times. You were so relieved so happy in her presence.

You relaxed together, her telling you everything she wanted to show you and do now that you were here. After a while, she did admit that you would have to go to a Scooby meeting at Giles’ house the next day. She couldn’t avoid it unfortunately, there was something spooky happening apparently.

You were a little disappointed, you wanted to have her alone. But you were excited to see the people she spent time saving the world with. You told her all the time how proud of her you were that she was one of the people that helped stop evil.

You arrived at Giles’ in the later morning and became introduced to her little group of friends she insisted to all except you that weren’t really her friends. She trusted you and so explained her weird fondness for them.

Buffy, Willow, Oz and Xander were very friendly and introduced themselves. As did Giles after he gave Cordelia a withering look for bringing a friend to a very important meeting. They began to try and speak in code in front of you, not realising that Cordelia told you everything.

“Um, the, uh, bumpy forehead brigade are out in force” Xander said from the corner of his mouth as if this was the height of secrecy.

“Gang! Local gang, very scary!” Buffy shouted, alarmed.

“Perhaps y/n should-” Giles started, concerned that this was going to prevent them all from serious discussion.

“Guys, chill. She knows all about demons and the gross ugly things around here!” Cordy announced and shrugged, turning to return her eye contact to yours. Both of you gazing longer than would be comfortable for anyone else. She looked away first, pretending to focus on the stake she was supposed to be whittling.

The meeting carried on and you picked up some wood and tried to copy Cordy’s actions. Now you knew why her grade had gone up so suddenly in woodwork, she had a lot of practice, even during Summer.

You were struggling with the stake and she took your hand in hers and tried to guide it. You shivered, smiling at her and not able to concentrate at all now. She whispered that you should probably just give up which made you laugh. She knew she could be honest, almost to a fault with you so you set it down and just listened.

The older man, Giles, spoke the most. With Buffy, the slayer chipping in and the rest adding a little humour here and there.

Cordy leaned in every so often, explaining all the gossip between all the people you had just met. She made you giggle and you were having trouble hiding it from them. As she spoke, she became so close you could smell her perfume. You watched her lips as she spoke. They looked so soft and she was wearing the strawberry scented lip gloss she always did. You wondered how it would taste. How her soft lips would feel against your own.

You were hers. Completely.

You were afraid she would never know. That she would never understand the feelings that you harboured. How your heart was, and always had been hers to do as she pleased with.

Talk then moved to the film that Xander, Willow and Oz planned to watch at the cinema later that day. It was one of your favourite genres. You got really excited and started to talk to them about it animatedly.

“Would you like to join us? We have a spare ticket” Willow offered as Oz just shrugged. He wouldn’t mind. Xander smiled too, you seemed nice and he decided it was better than playing third wheel to Willow and Oz.

“Do you mind?” You turned to Cordelia, making sure she wouldn’t be upset. You hated it when she felt left out. But she nodded, smiling. She knew how much you liked those films and she didn’t care in the slightest for them. She only ever watched them for you. Because she liked the way your face brightened and your smile never left your face. She usually watched you more than the film.

“Just come back to me at the end of the day” She whispered so you could hear and this made you drop your gaze to the floor and giggle slightly. You had goosebumps.

Your new acquaintances announced that you had better go so you wouldn’t miss the ads, which according to Xander were the best parts of any movie. This made you smile and roll your eyes, something Cordy warned you that you’d be doing a lot of around Xander. You waved, you eyes not moving from Cordy’s until you were out of the door.

“So… y/n seems nice” Buffy said slowly after you had left. She didn’t have time for a movie, she was supposed to be at home any minute. Family time that she had missed too much of.

“She is! She’s cute right? Thank me for her style”

“She really enjoys your company, huh?” Buffy hinted slowly. She saw the way you acted around each other. As if you were already dating. But there was something there. A missing link, which Buffy quickly discovered was Cordy’s self-awareness. Or, lack thereof.

“Yeah, we’ve always been close. She’s, like, the only opinion I trust when I shop. Apart from my own, obviously” Cordy smiled and started to take the stakes and put them away. She was over that activity.

But she didn’t realise that Buffy was staring. She couldn’t not say anything. Not when she saw the way that Cordy looked at you. She hoped this didn’t backfire, but she didn’t think twice. She just spoke.

“Oh my God, Cordy. Are you blind? She likes you. Like, really likes you”

“Really? Y-you think?” Cordelia said, a smile starting to form on her lips. Everything rushed back to her at once. Those sleepovers where your faces were so close together she wanted to lean in and kiss you. Hushed and whispered secrets. Cuddling together under blankets and promising never to forget the other. Times after school where you would only want to hang out the two of you.

The way you both blushed when she would do your makeup, because of the proximity. When she would dress you up and shower you with such praise that you would bashfully shrug and tell her to stop.

She had adored you for so long and she hadn’t even been able to call it what it was. She liked women. Well, a woman. You.

“I don’t think, I know. We’re in the everglades here, also known as pine central” Buffy stated, referring to both of you. She could see the way Cordy lit up whenever you were around. How she softened, but only slightly. Not wanting you to hear her harsh digs or think they were directed towards you.

Cordy wasn’t listening. How had she not seen it? How had she not noticed it in herself?

She missed you, thought about you constantly. Wanted to visit you but things always got so busy in Sunnydale.

In some way, she had needed someone to tell her this. Remind her that this was love. Something she had hidden deep down for such a long time. Whether is was shame or otherwise, she had never acknowledged these feelings long enough to figure it out.

But now she was. She was thinking about it. And coming to terms with it. She left for a while, shopping and thinking.

She loved you. She treasured you. She couldn’t imagine her life without you in it.

You both returned to her place after your respective days. You had missed each other, more so than when you lived away from each other. Because the other was right here in the same town. You were pleased to see her, although you gushed about the movie.

You always shared a bed growing up and this visit was no different. You felt a tension in the air as she got ready for bed, facing away from you. You slipped into your side of the bed, wrapping yourself up in the blankets waiting for her to join you.

She got in beside you, lying on her side and facing you. She nodded at herself, telling herself to ask.

“Do you, do you have feelings… for me?” She asked. Direct as always. Your eyes widened, you almost recoiled in horror. She knew. How could she know?

What if she wanted you to leave? Right now at night in a strange town where vampires were more common than humans. What if she thought you were disgusting? You couldn’t live with it if she wanted to stop being your friend. You were sure you would die right there beside her. You took a deep breath, it was now or never.

“I do…” You admitted. Barely blinking. Holding your breath. You were so scared, your palms slicked with sweat.

Your thoughts swirled around you, every horrible scenario flashing before your eyes. Your mouth went dry. The seconds it took her to react were so painful.

Your heart stopped beating, you were sure of it. That, or it was beating so fast that you couldn’t feel the separate beats.

He lips curved into a smile. Her eyes glassy, shining in the dim light from the hallway. You scanned her face, smiling was good. Smiling was… pleased... right? Happy?

Could she feel the same? Could she possibly love you the way you loved her? Adored her in the same way?

So many emotions were spinning around your mind that you hadn’t noticed her lips had started to move. She was explaining herself. Her lips moved and you only managed to process her words after she finished speaking.

“I’m new to this, but I think that I love you. That I want you, only you” Cordy said, her sentence tailing into a whisper. You had never seen her so apprehensive to speak. So concerned that she had only heard what she wanted to hear. That you didn’t really like her in that way.

She adored you, she wanted to spend every waking moment with you. She now found it ridiculous that she didn’t realise how she felt. All that time she had missed out on.

She leaned in, her eyes dropping from your eyes to your mouth. She positioned herself closer

She looked into your eyes. Deep. So deep she almost became lost again. She was asking you if it was okay as she moved her hand to lightly graze your cheek. You nodded, so slightly. But she caught it. She didn’t wait any longer. Couldn’t wait any longer.

Her lips met yours for the first time. It was perfection. The way she kissed with such feeling, such devotion. Her skin was so smooth and you enjoyed the way her skin felt against yours. Her lips slow and soft, telling you everything and more. You paused, looking back at each other, a breathy laugh you shared.

You couldn’t believe it, how lucky you were. You were really kissing. You were really hers. And she knew it. She finally knew she held your heart in her palm, the look you shared told you that she would do anything to protect it. So long as you did the same for hers.

She was new to this, new to the feelings she had only just been able to name.

But she never wanted to stop kissing you. Holding you. Telling you how much she loved you, making up for all that time you had missed.

You vowed to be by her side from that moment. To remind her everyday how much you cherished her.

#Cordelia Chase #Cordy #Cordelia Chase x reader #Cordy x reader #Cordelia Chase x you #Cordy x you #Cordelia Chase imagine #Cordy imagine #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #Buffy #female reader #female #x reader #fluff #wlw #buffyverse #Cordelia Chase fic

[waitimcomingtoo]

I’m a huge fan of your writing!!! You’re so talented 💖✨ Can I please request a protective tom/peter story? Thanks love!!

Wheezy

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is the only one who can tease you about your asthma

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

You were in second grade when you found out you had asthma.

Unfortunately, the rest of the second grade class found out too. Your asthma wasn't too serious, mainly triggered by nerves, but every so often you’d have to take a hit off your inhaler to calm yourself down. That didn’t hinder the merciless teasing from your classmates for not knowing how to breath. There was one thing that hindered the teasing though…

“Why are you in time out?” You asked the curly haired boy with red sneakers sitting next to you. The teacher shot you a look when she heard talking, but looked away when you gave her a bright smile. The boy rubbed his thumb over his knuckles and shrugged.

“I hit Flash.” He said solemnly.

“You hit Flash? Like in the face?” You almost jumped out of your seat in excitement. The boy perked you upon hearing your interest in his actions.

“In the nose.” He said with a toothless grin.

“Hey, I don’t have my two from teeth either.” You opened your mouth to show the boy and stuck your tongue through the gap. “My mommy said it makes me special. But if you’re also missing your teeth, does that mean I’m not special? Or are we both special? I have to call my mommy and ask but I only know the number for 911. It’s 911.” You sighed in defeat before an idea popped into your head. “Do you know your mommy’s number? Can we ask her?”

The boy blinked and looked at the floor before telling you, “I don’t have a mommy.”

“Everyone has a mommy.” You insisted.

“My mommy flew up to heaven with daddy.” The boy told you with a glum face. He never spoke about their death, but he felt safe opening up to you.

“Oh.” You said and looked down. You noticed the boy getting upset and reached over to tap his shoulder. “Do you want to come over after school today and meet my mommy? She’s really nice. Except, sometimes she makes me clean my room.” You remembered. “But I don’t think she’ll make you do that.”

“Okay.” The boy smiled happily at you. “I’m Peter.”

“I’m Y/n.” You told him.

“I know your name.” Peter said. “Your cubby is near mine.”

“I like you Peter. Since we’re best friends now, I’m going to tell you a secret.” You scooted your chair closer to his and lowered your voice.”

“Okay.” Peter smiled in excitement.

“I told a lie to the teacher.” You confessed before clamping your hands over your mouth and giggling as Peters eyes widened.

“What did you say?” He gasped. Lies were a top offense in second grade.

“Michelle drew on the bathroom wall in sharpie and I told the teacher I did it. That’s why I’m in time out.” You admitted to Peter. He furrowed his little eyebrows together.

“Why would you lie about that?” He asked.

“Because if Michelle gets in trouble again, she had to talk to the president.” You told Peter, who’s eyes widened again. “Or the principle. I forget which one.”

“You’re a good friend.” Peter complimented.

“Now I’m your good friend.” You smiled brightly at him. “So why did you hit Flash?”

“I don’t want to tell you.” Peter shook his head and looked away.

“But I told you a secret!” You said a little too loudly, making the teacher look your way again.

“I can’t say.” Peter whispered.

“Then we cant be friends.” You pouted and folded your arms.

“Wait! I’ll tell you.” Peter spoke up.

“Okay.” You leaned closer to him, your pout completely gone.

“I hit Flash because he was making fun of your asthma.” Peter confessed.

“You hit him for me?” You asked. “But you didn’t know me then.”

“I don’t like Flash. I wanted to protect you from him.” Peter told you. Something about Peters words made your second grade heart burst.

“Everyone makes fun of my asthma.” You said sadly. Peter looked angry, because he knew it was true.

“I don’t.” He promised. You looked up at him and pulled him into a hug.

“Okay Peter. We can be friends again.” You said.

But that was elementary school. By high school, things were different.

Since you wore a different purse everyday to match your outfit, you often forgot to put your inhaler in your new bag. Luckily, you usually never found yourself in a situation where you needed your inhaler but didn't have it.

That was true until tenth grade. You had to do an oral report on The Scarlet Letter for your English class. It went fine at first as you stood before the class reading from index cards. Halfway through the presentation, Peter noticed your breathing was getting labored. Your hands were shaking and you looked up from your index cards in fear at the rest of the class. Peter quickly realized an asthma attack was coming on and grabbed your backpack. He started rummaging through it, but found it wasn't your usual purple bag. You were wearing a green dress today, so you opted for a light pink backpack. Only problem, you forgot to stick your inhaler in it. You made eye contact with Peter, who was even more terrified than you were. Peter ran out of the classroom to get the nurse.

"What were you thinking?" Peter yelled, making you jump. You were sitting on the bench outside the nurses office, taking deep breaths with your inhaler. Peter was busy thanking the Lord that it’s required to give the school an inhaler if you have asthma. He was glad he remembered this and got the nurse in time.

"I just forgot. I've never used it at school before. People would think I'm a geek." You said, still a little out of breath. You felt guilty for making him so upset but in your defense, you’ve never needed it before.

"Y/n, you could have died." Peter said angrily.

"Oh, you're just being dramatic." You dismissed.

"Dramatic? 250,000 people die from asthma a year, Y/n." Peter stated, leaving you to wonder how he knew that. He saw you look down at your hands in shame and his eyes softened. He crouched down and took your still shaking hands in his.

"I need you to understand how important it is for you to carry around your inhaler at all times. You can't keep forgetting it. This could've been serious." Peter said gently. You slowly looked up at him.

"I'll remember. I promise." You said. Peter nodded and pulled you into a hug. He frowned deeply once your face was buried in his neck. He didn't like seeing his best friend upset. His frown faded when he heard your giggle.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked.

"I just think it's funny how I said reading The Scarlet Letter was gonna make me die of boredom, and then I almost died while giving a report on it. That would've been quite a death." You laughed. Peter stifled his laughter, not wanting to let you off the hook just yet.

"That's not funny." He smiled.

"At least I would've gone out with a bang." You shrugged.

"Stop." He warned.

"It would’ve been a run and hit, instead of a hit and run. Get it? Because I had to run to take a hit of my inhaler?” You continued to tease him.

"Stop." He said again.

"Alright alright." You rolled your eyes and dropped the subject.

After the incident, your asthma became the butt of all your jokes. The endless "breathless" jokes followed you all the way to college. Whenever you got a chance, an asthma joke would be made.

"Wanna hear a joke?" You asked as you spun around in Peters swivel chair.

"Not at all." Peter replied without looking up from his textbook.

“I watched a documentary on Asthma and what causes it last night.” You informed him. He looked up from his text book, excited that you were taking the initiative to learn more about your condition.

“Oh really?” Peter asked proudly.

“Yeah. It had some really breathtaking stuff.” You nodded before a grin broke out on your face. Peter groaned loudly and covered his face with his hands.

“I hate you.” He said behind his hands.

“Aw, but I love you.” You jumped on top of him and pinned him to his bed. You sat on his chest and held him down by his wrists. Peter looked up and you shyly and prayed his roommate wouldn’t walk it. “You’re my best friend in the whole world. Even if you don’t appreciate my asthma puns.”

"Alright, get off.” Peter said, annoyed you’d reminded him that you were only best friends. “I can’t breath.”

You got off his chest and sat next to him on his bed in silence for a moment before a devious smile crossed your face.

"Neither can I." You grinned, making Peter fully shove you off the bed.

You somehow managed to work it into every conversation.

"Here." You said, sticking a sticker onto Peters arm.

"You're giving me a sticker?" He asked in confusion as he pulled on his shirt to get a better look at it.

"Not just any sticker. It says “you’re a cute-cumber” over a picture of a cucumber.” You explained.

“What would I do without it?” Peter asked sarcastically and he watched the childlike joy on your face.

"It's a scratch and sniff too. I didn't smell it yet, though.” You kept up your innocent act. “I don't know if you know this about me, but I have this thing called asthma. You may have heard about it."

"Mmm, no I don't believe I have. I had no idea you had asthma. You're an inspiration to us all." Peter replied sarcastically. You laughed and rested your head on his arm. “I am a grown man, Y/n. I can’t be seen walking around with this on my arm.”

“You don’t want it?” You asked a little sadly as you went to peel it off of him. Peter brushed your hand away and looked offended.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want it.” Peter defended. “How else are the people gonna know I’m a cute-cumber? What if they think I’m just berry cute?”

You smiled widely at your best friend and smoothed the sticker back onto his arm.

You and Peter could joke about it, but God forbid anyone else tried too.

“If I got a tattoo, I’d get a big dollar sign on my bicep.” A senior, Harry Osborn stated. “To remind me to always secure the bag.”

“How lovely.” You said sarcastically and gave Peter a look.

“What about you, Y/n? What would you get?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know.” You answered.

“You could get an inhaler that says “it’s not easy being wheezy” under it. My friend got that one night when he was drunk. Funny as hell.” Harry commented. Peter felt his fist clench.

“Why would I get that?” You asked Harry.

“Because of your asthma.” Harry shrugged.

“Do you think having asthma is funny, Harry?” Peter leaned towards on his hands and you immediately gripped his arm.

“Peter, he’s only kidding. It’s okay.” You tried to calm him down.

“Do I find it funny your girlfriend is brilliant but doesn’t know how to breath? Yeah, a little.” Harry retorted.

“It’s not her fault.” Peter snapped, not bothering to tell Harry you weren’t his girlfriend.

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying, you gotta be pretty dumb to not know how to breath. And if it weren’t for that pretty face, she might not have gotten into this college. Something to think about. Food for thought, if you will.” Harry smiled.

“I won’t.” Peter lunged at Harry but you held him back. You pulled him out of the room by his hand and didn’t stop until you found an empty hallway.

“What was that?” You asked Peter sternly.

“He has the audacity to say you don’t belong here? His dad paid his way in. He asked me how to spell “biology” the other day. He’s a biology major!” Peter exclaimed.

“What he is is an idiot and you don’t have to sink to his level.” You rubbed Peters arms today calm him down. The flush is his face began to fade.

“He had no right to make fun of your asthma.” Peter said softly, making you heart melt.

“I know. Thanks for protecting me.” You said as you wrapped your arms around Peters torso. He rested his chin on your head and a sighed.

“Always.”

Even in the more serious moments, there was always room for a joke.

You and Peter went up to the roof to look at the sky during a particularly loud party. No one was up there but you two, giving you plenty of privacy. You walked to the railing side by side and looked up.

“Look, Peter, the sky.” You blurted. Peter looked and you and let out a groan.

“Really? You’re quoting Anne Frank? Now?” Peter asked you.

“I was quoting Anne Frank’s play, to be fair.” You held up your hands in defense.

“Moving on from that, I’m glad we can see the stars from here. I always wanted to stargaze with you but you could never see the stars from my building.” Peter said.

“I didn’t know you always wanted to do that.” You said with a fond smile. You looked at Peter, who had his head tilted towards the sky, and felt your face flush. You were seeing him in a different light for the first time, moonlight. And he was mesmerizing.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked as you looked at Peter and not at the sky.

“Yeah. It takes my breath away.” Peter sighed in content before looking at you to see if you were enjoying it too. To his surprise, you had been staring at him the whole time.

"You know what takes my breath away?" You looked right in his eyes. Peter looked at you expectantly and smiled.

"What?" He asked, desperate to know. You smiled back at him.

"My asthma." You replied. Peters heart sank and he stared at you for a moment. An amused smile still sat on your face as you turned your attention back to the stars.

"I love you." Peter blurted out. “I’m in love with you.”

You snapped your eyes back to Peter, expecting a goofy grin on his face, but instead saw his dead serious expression. He was being sincere.

"You..." Your eyes widened and you were suddenly gasping for air. You clutched your throat and slid onto the ground. You looked around for your purse, only to remember you left it at the party. You closed your eyes and tried to slow your breathing. You suddenly felt your inhaler between your lips and a hit of air rushed in. You opened your eyes and saw Peter holding an inhaler to your lips with panic in his eyes. You took it from his hands and used it until you could breath again, never breaking eye contact with him. When you calmed down, you took the inhaler away from your mouth and took a deep breath.

"How did you-" you began.

"I started carrying one around after tenth grade." He cut in. "Just in case something like that ever happened again."

You nodded and gave him a soft, grateful smile.

"Wow Peter.” You said timidly. He looked up at you, again with expectation. “You really know how to take a girls breath away."

Peter groaned and scooted next to you.

"I had to. You know I had to." You defended yourself and Peter laughed.

"I should've just let you suffer." Peter teased, making you giggle as you helped him stand up.

"Well I'm glad you were here.” You touched a hand to his cheek and he leaned into it. “You’re always here. Always protecting me.”

“I’ll always protect you.” Peter said assertively.

“I know.” You smiled. “That’s why I love you too.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #spiderman x reader #iron man #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #peter parker fluff #protective!peter x reader