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#'let me adjust my jacket and hair in a way i know he likes'
evie-carnahan · 6 months
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Loki 1.02 "The Variant" | 2.05 "Science/Fiction"
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belovedguk · 19 days
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burnout (jk)
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summary: jeon jungkook asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend in order to get back at his ex-girlfriend. however, you soon realize his true intentions.
pairing: bball player!jungkook x student journalist fem!reader
genres: yandere, dark romance, slow burn
author’s note: this is a repost or burnout chapters 1-3 + a bonus sneak peek from chapter 4 from my deleted account, aikastales, for easy viewing. it is still on hold. minors do not interact. no warnings for this specific part.
total word count: 10k
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PART ONE
Why was Jeon Jungkook at the Communications building? 
He had a red and white leather jacket on top of a white shirt, jeans, and his black combat boots. His long hair was a mess, which you guessed was due to his helmet, and when he saw you walking down the steps of the building, he perked up, smiled, and waved at you. 
At first, you weren’t even sure if it was you he was waving at, so you were a bit stunned, and looked over your shoulder. But then, you heard your name called by him. You and Jungkook were not friends. Sure, you exchanged friendly nods at each other whenever your paths would cross, but that was the end of it. In fact, the only reason why you even exchanged those friendly nods was because of Taehyung—your cousin who also happened to be his best friend since preschool. If it wasn’t for him, you and Jungkook would just pass by each other without so much as a glance. 
And so, it was only natural that you were confused and surprised when you saw him leaning against his motorcycle in front of your college’s building, apparently waiting for you. 
“Y/N, hey,” Jungkook greeted with a smile on his handsome face once he was near you. 
Still confused, you returned the smile, adjusting the strap of your backpack hanging over your shoulder. “Hi, Jungkook. Is everything okay?” 
He nodded. “Yeah, everything is—everything’s fine,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat. “Do you have time like right now? My treat.” He asked, his doe eyes piercing into yours. 
You could not believe what you just heard. “What?” Was all you could reply. 
Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I know. It’s a shock, right? Believe me, I am too, but I just really need to talk to you about something. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t so important.” 
“Is it about Taehyung? Is he okay? Did he get into trouble?” You asked, alert. It was the only logical answer why Jungkook waited for you and why he wanted to talk to you. Taehyung was the only person connecting the both of you. 
Jungkook shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about Taehyung, but he’s fine. He’s in his class right now. Look,” he sighed deeply, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before staring at you once more. “Yiseul, I just really need to talk to you. In private.”
You debated whether to go with him or not. This was Jeon Jungkook. Despite his tattoos, broad shoulders, piercings, and big bike—he was harmless. He was your cousin’s best friend, and even though you two weren’t friends, he looked like he needed one at the moment. Besides, you wouldn’t deny that a part of you wasn’t curious as to why he needed to talk to you. That and the fact that because you had been in love with him since you met him when you were thirteen, how could you say no to something that you had only imagined in your wildest dreams? 
“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” you agreed, heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?” 
Jungkook’s smile widened when you agreed. “There’s a basement cafe twenty minutes from here. It’s called Seven.” 
The both of you began making your way towards his motorcycle. “Just how private is this conversation going to be?” you asked supposedly only for yourself, but accidentally, you said it out loud. 
“I guess you already have an idea on how private it needs to be considering the location,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry—I promise you’ll get home in one piece.” 
Jungkook handed you his extra helmet, and you were thankful that you didn’t wear a dress that day. After placing your backpack in front of your chest, you wore the helmet. “Can you give me a hint on what it’s about?” 
You couldn’t help it. You were curious. 
“I remember you always being curious, Y/N. Glad you haven’t changed at all,” Jungkook said, mounting his motorcycle. “In twenty minutes, you’ll know. If you ride now, you’ll know in fifteen minutes.” 
You thought he looked so attractive as he smiled and waited for you on his motorcycle. His smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but to return it. “Alright, fine,” you say. Then, you mounted his motorcycle, placing your hands on his firm shoulders. 
“Ready?” Jungkook asked, placing his key into the ignition, briefly glancing at you. 
“Yeah, ready,” you replied. He started the engine and you held onto your backpack for dear life. You had seen Jungkook drive his motorcycle before and the only way you could describe it was fast. 
“Alright. Let’s go.” 
Jungkook drove off. 
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As promised, fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Seven. It was indeed a basement cafe, secluded from the busy city streets and tucked in between fruit stands and ready-to-wear clothes inside an alley. You were the first to get off his motorcycle, taking your helmet off. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings while Jungkook took his motorcycle garments off. 
The alley was alive with mostly elderly people buying fruits and high schoolers buying the RTWs. The tangerines stood out due to their bright color against the setting sun. You wondered when and how Jungkook came to know the place, if he frequented it, why he chose this place over all other cafes. 
“Y/N? Let’s go inside?” Jungkook asked, gesturing to you to enter the cafe first. 
You nodded, entering Seven. As a basement cafe, the first thing you noticed were the windows placed near the ceiling. A permanent sepia hue covered the entire establishment due to its yellow orange lights. The walls were painted gray, tables and chairs white. There were only a few tables and chairs, and Jungkook led the way to the one at the very back. 
He pulled the chair out of you which you thanked him for, and you sat down. Jungkook followed afterwards, placing the helmets on the table between the both of you. 
“What do you want?” He asked, pulling his chair closer to the table. 
“Honestly, I’m more curious on why you want to talk to me than have any drinks here,” you told him, placing your backpack on the floor beside your chair. 
Jungkook chuckled, leaning his back against his chair. “Alright. Should I just say it?” 
You nodded. 
“I was hoping that you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend to make Haemin jealous,” Jungkook said so casually that you were completely and utterly stunned. Did you just hear him correctly? Upon seeing your reaction, he continued, “She broke up with me a month ago, and to be honest, I saw it coming already. We were getting into a lot of meaningless fights, always finding faults in one another, and just overall, being toxic to each other. So, when she broke up with me, I did not put up a fight, and just let her be,” Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “Then, I learned that she was seeing Han Riyeo, that fucking bastard from Yongsan, behind my back for three months, and I want to get back at her.” 
His explanation did not help you grasp what he just said previously. You were still stunned, but you managed to ask, “Why me?” 
“For reasons I still don’t know, Haemin was always jealous of you,” he confessed.
Now, that was a surprise. “What? You and I barely had any interaction.” 
“I know, but I suspect it’s because you’re there whenever I hang out with Taehyung,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, then ran his fingers through his hair. “So? Will you help me, Y/N?” 
“This is pretty childish, don’t you think?” you told him, eyebrows furrowed. 
Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll pay you. I know you need the money. Taehyung mentioned you’re saving for the deposit on this apartment you want to rent.” 
You stared at him, trying to find any trace of mischief in his eyes and body language but found none. Jungkook was serious. A part of you knew that the logical answer would be to decline his offer. It was childish, as you had told him. It was a nuisance and it would do nothing but bring problems and complications in your life. Your life was complicated enough, and you didn’t need to add Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend to your list of complications. 
But this was Jeon Jungkook. The person you had been in love with since you were thirteen. The person you supported, cheered on, and loved unconditionally from afar because it was all that you could do. You would be lying if you said that you did not imagine yourself being his girlfriend—going to every game, wearing his jersey, riding his motorcycle, going on dates, taking lots of photos and videos of him, hugging, and even kissing him—because you did, countless times. You would also be lying if you didn’t think that you could love him better than Haemin ever did. 
They said love makes you do crazy things. You didn’t think that applied to you. You loved Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t think that that love would fade anytime soon. So, even though you knew that this was pretend and paid, you said, “Okay. I’ll do it.” 
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After your orders arrived, the both of you continued your conversation. 
“So, how will this work?” you asked, sipping your iced chocolate drink. 
Jungkook put up a finger, chewing the cheeseburger he ordered, and afterwards, he replied, “We act like a couple. Go on dates, post them on social media, and all that.” 
You were never someone who did things half-assed. If you were going to get paid to fake date someone, you might as well go all out. Also, perhaps, a part of you just wanted to make the most out of being Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend. 
“I don’t think that would be enough to make Haemin jealous. If you really want that, we should do the things you either only did with her or promised to do with her,” you pointed out.
Jungkook nodded. “I see. You got a point.” 
“So, what are those things? The things you did for her and the things you promised to do with her?” 
He inhaled deeply, scratching the side of his nose as he thought. “Well, I pick her up everyday. Take her out on picnic dates, study with her, and I go to her recitals.” 
You nodded. “Okay. Then, you should pick me up everyday, take me out on picnic dates, study with me, and well, I don’t really do any recitals.” 
“Alright. I’ll do that,” Jungkook grinned. “As for the things I promised to do with her—the first thing that popped in my mind was that I promised I’ll take her to my brother’s wedding.” 
“We shouldn’t involve our families in this. Me being Taehyung’s cousin is complicated enough,” you remarked. 
“Okay. How about this? We made plans to go out of town during winter break. Do you wanna do that?” 
“Where?” 
“My sister-in-law runs a small resort in Busan. It’s by the beach,” 
You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Okay. That could work.”
“For my part, you have to go to my games. That’s pretty much all you have to do, and of course, the dates.” 
“That’s already a given,” you told him. “I’m assigned to cover your games this season.” 
“Right. You are the News editor of the Times. I’m honored,” Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head at you. 
You chuckled, shaking your head. “I have a question.” 
“Go for it.” 
“What will happen when Haemin gets jealous? Will we “break up” and the two of you will get back together?” you asked, cautiously, but also curiously. 
“I have no plans of getting back together with her,” Jungkook answered. “But when she finally gets jealous and tells me about it, then revenge is served. I guess then we’ll break up. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you handsomely every time so you could move into that apartment of yours. It’s the least I could do after you agreed to do this with me.” 
It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. After all, this was only paid and pretend, but it did. 
“Alright,” you said. “We should shake hands on it.” 
You extended your hand toward him and Jungkook sealed the deal with his firm handshake. “Starting today, you’re my girl, Y/N.” 
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You would be the first to admit that looking after Kim Taehyung was something you did out of debt of gratitude toward his parents. After your father passed away when you were only eleven years old, your mother couldn’t afford to send you to school, so his parents financed your education since then and until now that you were in college. You lived with Taehyung at the condominium they bought for him near the university and since you were on scholarship through your membership at the official student publication of Jamsil University, The Jamsil Times, they only paid for your miscellaneous fees every semester. 
Because of these, you felt like Taehyung was your responsibility. You had to take care of him, look after him, tutor him, make sure he did all his school work, attend his classes, and be there every time he asked you to. It felt like when it came to him and his parents, you couldn’t say no because if you did, you could easily lose your housing and education.
It didn’t help that Taehyung seemed to attract trouble wherever he was. He even gained a nickname for it in high school which followed him in college, “Trouble Taehyung.” You couldn’t remember the times you apologized on his behalf, woke up in the middle of the night from a call from one of his so-called friends asking if you could pick him up as he was drunk and bruised, and ensured none of his troubles reached his parents. 
Tonight was no different. 
You woke up from the sound of your phone vibrating against your desk. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, studying for your upcoming midterms exam, and when you woke up, you could feel the soreness of your neck and lower back. With one eye open, your vision adjusted to the bright light coming from your phone, and saw Park Jimin’s name flashing on your screen. Immediately, you knew why he was calling you. There could only be one reason: Kim Taehyung. 
“Hello?” your voice was hoarse, groggy from your slumber. 
“Y/N? I’m sorry I woke you up, didn’t I? It’s—,” 
“Taehyung, I know. What happened this time?” you sighed deeply, rubbing your face with your free hand. “Where are you guys?” 
“He got into an argument with this guy, and well, it led to a fight. He’s bruised, bleeding, but he refuses to go to a hospital, but—,” 
“Hey! Is that Y/N? I told you not to call her, Park Jimin!” you could hear Taehyung’s voice in the background which made you sigh once more. Moments later, it was Taehyung who was on the call with you. “Y/N, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Jimin’s just a worry wart.” 
“Taehyung,” you were tired and it was evident in your tone. “Go to the hospital if you’re bleeding. It might get infected.” 
“I can’t,” he replied. “Mom is going to find out. It’s a small world, you know that,” his tone was low, cautious, as though he did not want anyone else hearing him. “I’m fine. I’ll put on some ointment and band-aid and I’m good.” 
You wished you didn’t give a shit about him. But you did. Whether it was out of debt of gratitude or not, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help him. Perhaps, you had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of you already, like a hobby, like a memory. 
“Where are you, Taehyung?” 
“Y/N, seriously, I’m—,” 
“Taehyung, just tell me where you are,” your patience was wearing thin and Taehyung knew that. 
“We’re at Jungkook’s apartment,” he muttered. 
Even the mention of his name was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Even by just hearing his name, your irritation seemed to slowly fade away. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in a while. I’m gonna use your car, okay?” 
“Okay. Y/N, I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologized and you could hear his sincerity. 
“Don’t be,” you told him as you stood up from your chair. “See you. I’ll hang up now.” 
Just how deep does blood run? 
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You were at Jungkook’s apartment minutes later, thanks to no traffic and him only living fifteen minutes from Taehyung’s condominium. When you rang the bell to his unit, you already expected that he would be the one to answer the door. You just didn’t expect that he would be wearing gray sweatpants and a white loose muscle tee showing off his toned tattooed arm. Seeing him in that light, you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him. Jungkook was truly a sight to see. 
“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “Come inside.” 
“Thanks,” you told him, entering his apartment. It was simple, neat, and smelled of vanilla. You took off your shoes by the doorway, placing a hand on the wall beside you. “Where’s Taehyung?” 
“Kitchen,” he replied behind you. “Y/N,” his hot breath fanned over your exposed neck, making you shiver. “I’ll linger around you, alright? That way, they could get a hint that something’s going on with us. Is that okay?” he whispered. 
His low tone was simply mesmerizing. “Okay,” you breathed out. Thank god you had your hand on that wall otherwise you would have literally fallen. 
“Okay,” he chuckled, and led the way to the kitchen. 
“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you. He was sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen island while Jimin looked through the refrigerator. 
You gave him a tight-lipped smile and made your way toward him, placing the plastic bag you hand in your hand on the counter beside you. Taehyung jumped off the stool he was sitting on, instantly giving you a squeezing hug. He was always an affectionate boy growing up. You weren’t so you found it uncomfortable at first. But the more Taehyung did it, you got used to it. 
“Let me see your bruise,” you guided him back to the stool, and began taking out the first aid you bought along the way. The bruise wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. You were expecting that he would have a black eye, a deep cut that would need stitches, but it was manageable by you. Jimin was overreacting, you concluded. “What happened? How did you get this?” 
As you began to clean the cut on Taehyung’s cheek, Jimin sat down across from your cousin while Jungkook made his way near you. 
“One minute I was dancing next to some girl, the next, her boyfriend landed a punch on my face. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend—she told me she was single,” Taehyung explained. 
“Didn’t know my ass,” Jimin scoffed. “Everyone knows Heejin is with Taemin. Everyone also knows that Taemin’s a crazy jealous bastard. You were just looking for trouble, as always.” 
“I was not,” your cousin retorted, throwing the medical tape you bought at his friend. 
You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Stop it, you two,” you hissed, pressing the cotton ball a bit harder against Taehyung’s bruise. He winced. “Is that true?” you asked him. 
Taehyung didn’t answer. You sighed. 
“You knew it was wrong, and yet, you did it anyway knowing it’ll just get you in trouble,” you muttered. “Why did you do it?” 
Taehyung sighed deeply. “Because Taemin’s a piece of shit.” 
“You’re also a piece of shit,” Jimin snorted. “Both of you are the biggest pieces of shit at Jamsil.” 
“Do you wanna get punched?” 
“Let’s go right now,” 
“Hey, stop it. You’re so fucking loud,” Jungkook reprimands the two bickering men. “You already woke me up from my sleep by going here. Don’t wake up the entire fucking building.” 
Moments later, you finished tending to Taehyung’s cut. “All done. Come on, let’s go home.” 
Taehyun didn’t protest. You began to clean up your mess, placing everything back into the plastic bag. Silence filled Jungkook’s kitchen. The three of you weren’t close so there were no conversations where all of you could participate. 
“Let’s go,” you bowed your head at Jimin as a farewell which he returned. Then, your eye caught Jungkook’s gaze. You weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, Jungkook was quick-witted. 
“I’ll walk you guys out,” he said coolly, pushing himself off of the sink he was leaning against. 
“No need. Just go back to sleep. Thanks for letting us in,” Taehyung shook his head, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he passed by him. 
“I insist,” Jungkook responded. 
“Can I stay here tonight?” Jimin asked Jungkook as he made his way out of the kitchen. 
“Yeah sure,” 
You followed Jungkook and Taehyung out of the former’s apartment. As you and your cousin slipped on your shoes, Jungkook waited outside his apartment. 
“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asked, meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 
“I’m not mad at you,” you assured him. “But you have to stop involving and getting yourself into trouble, Tae. Sooner or later, you’ll end up getting really hurt.” 
“I will, I promise,” he smiled at you and you nodded, exiting the apartment. 
The three of you walked down the hallway; the two boys walking on your sides. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was consciously doing it, but it was making your heart pound. Whenever your fingers brushed against his, there was an electric shock that flew through your body. And as you reached the end of the hallway and in front of the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jungkook placed his hand at your lower back, gesturing you to enter the lift first. 
You looked at him, and there was a knowing smile plastered on his face that made you blush. “After you,” he said. 
You were fucking lovestruck. 
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Championships cast a spell in your school. Jamsil University’s premier sport was basketball and with an all-star lineup this year—it was not even up for discussion that your university would be one of the teams playing out to become this year’s champions.
To say the least, sports were not your thing. While you understood the basics, it wasn’t something you were interested in. Your father had enrolled you in a tennis class once but after witnessing how, simply out, awful you are at the sports, he dropped the ‘I want my daughter to be athletic’ narrative he was going for. That being said, you rarely attended any of the games Jamsil athletes participated in. But seeing as you were assigned to cover the basketball games this season, you had no other choice. Besides, your “boyfriend” was playing. 
That’s how you found yourself at the gym of Jamsil, stressed as you took pictures and typed down the game on your phone. Frustrated, you sat on the bench behind you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the first half. As you read the draft on your notepad, you shook your head at the numerous times you used the word ‘tackle’—in your defense, it was all that you could see during the game. It was a particularly brutal game which made you wonder, was the game something more personal for the players? You only heard rumors, after all.
With a sigh, you made a mental note to fix the notes once you’re home. Standing up, you placed the phone inside your jeans’ back pocket and readied the Times’ camera to capture the ‘Half-time huddle’ that Bang Chan, the Sports Editor, had specifically asked you to take. As you made your way towards the basketball team, you took some shots of the audience as well as the Jamsil’s Cheerleading Team performing in the middle of the court. The blaring music and loud cheers from both schools as the cheerleaders performed filled the entire gymnasium, unconsciously making you smile. It was not everyday that you saw some sort of unity at your uni.
You focused your camera on the huddled team of Jamsil but dissatisfied, you tried another angle. Bang Chan’s words play in your mind: “The half-time huddle is one of the most important shots during these games, Y/N. The play they’re setting up will either make them or break them. Make sure you capture it.”
Then, the idea hit you. You hurriedly made your way on the other side of the team, hearing Coach Song’s booming voice telling his players the game even with all the screaming and cheers. You moved the towels and water bottles on the bench aside, then you stepped on it and placed the camera above the huddled team. Smiling, you knew you found the perfect angle. Making sure that the camera was focused, you inhaled deeply and as you were about to click the shutter button—a face turned to face the lens and a gasp escaped your lips, shocked and you felt yourself losing balance. Bracing for impact, you clutched the camera tightly against your chest and closed your eyes with one thing in mind: If this breaks, I am so screwed.
It felt like eternity as you waited for the impact. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of round brown eyes, staring at you in concern, eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched in your throat as realization hit you. Around your waist, you felt strong arms supporting you; hot breath fanned your face and you felt something liquid dripping on your forehead.
“Y/N, are you okay?” When he spoke, you immediately snapped back to reality and you wriggled yourself out of his grip—flustered and ground-swallow-me-up embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning as you collected yourself. “Y/N?”
It was as if the entire gymnasium had their focus on you and Jungkook. 
“Jeon, what the fuck, get back here,” Coach Song hissed.
Fuck me, you thought as you cleared your throat. “Thanks,” you whispered to him. 
Jungkook smiled—the boyishly charming smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. Then, he did something that made you fall in love with him all over again. 
“Wish me luck, babe,” Jungkook said before wrapping his tattooed arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “The game’s on, Y/N. No turning back now.” 
You wished this was real. His kiss was real. But even if it wasn’t, indeed, there was no turning back now. The game had begun. 
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PART TWO
As predicted and expected, Jamsil won the championship. But instead of the student body celebrating the fourth championship in a row, apparently, the majority could only talk about you and Jungkook—specifically the kiss he gave you on the cheek. You had expected this, of course. After all, Jeon Jungkook was Jamsil University’s golden boy. He was popular, smart, and overall, an exemplary student who not only excelled in his sports, but in his academics as well. Moreover, he was also the president of the photography club. 
What you didn’t expect was Taehyung lashing out at you. You expected him to be confused, baffled, in disbelief, but lashing out at you? You were confused, to say the least. Taehyung had never done it before. 
After finishing covering the basketball game, you hurriedly made your way back to the Publication Office. Once there, you took off the camera around your neck, breathing heavily. With both your hands on your table, you hung your head low, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting yourself calm down. It was during this moment that the door at the office swung open and your cousin stepped in. 
You looked at him over your shoulder and for the first time, you saw fury in his eyes. 
“You’re dating Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell me the truth.” 
With your lips pressed tightly, you nodded. Taehyung scoffed, tilting his head to the side, and shaking it in disbelief. 
“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? You and Jungkook?” He pressed, taking a step towards you. “When did it start? How did it start? Why are you dating him?” 
“I don’t really need to explain myself to you, Taehyung,” you told him. “Especially who I’m dating.” 
“Yes, you do. You need to explain that to me,” he retorted. 
“Why? Why do I need to explain it to you?” 
“Because you’re dating my fucking best friend and you’re my cousin!” He exclaimed, catching you off guard as you flinched. When he saw this, Taehyung’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—I don’t get it.” 
“What don’t you get?” you asked, turning to completely face him. “Why someone like me is with someone like him?” 
“Y/N, that’s not what I mean,” Taehyung sighed deeply. “I just feel like—like the two most important people in my life betrayed me.” 
You exhaled deeply. In a way, you could understand him. You could understand where he was coming from. But before you could respond, Jungkook appeared by the doorway of the office. 
“Don’t get mad at her, Tae, it’s my fault for not telling you first,” Jungkook said. He was still in his jersey, covered in sweat, and one hand holding a bottle of red Gatorade. There was a towel hanging around his neck. He walked towards you, and when he stood beside you, he held your hand. “I’m sorry if you feel like we betrayed you. We just wanted to find the right time to tell you.” 
“Right time,” Taehyung scoffed once more. “It didn’t look like it when you kissed her.” 
Jungkook squeezed your hand. It sent a jolt throughout your body. “What was I supposed to do? My girlfriend was there,” Jungkook’s response only riled Taehyung more. Upon seeing this, the basketball player said, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing you could do or say that could make us break up, Tae. I’m sorry but you’re just gonna have to deal with it.” 
“Can you fucking leave? I need to talk to Y/N privately,” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes. 
This time, you cut Jungkook before he could reply. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’ll see you after.” You looked at your fake boyfriend, smiling at him. 
Jungkook looked like he didn’t want to leave so you squeezed his hand. He clicked his tongue, sighing. “I’ll change and meet you outside the building.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. 
You nodded and once again, he pressed his lips against your cheek, making you blush but now, out of embarrassment because your cousin was literally in front of you. Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “Leave, Jeon Jungkook!” He exclaimed, pulling him off of you. 
Jungkook chuckled before making his way out of the office. 
Once he was out of earshot, Taehyung stepped closer towards you. “Y/N, you’re right—who you date is not something I should mind or dictate. But you’re my cousin and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Jungkook—he’s my best friend in the world and has been since we were little. I know him. So, the two of you together—I just can’t accept it.” 
You didn’t know why you were feeling angry as the seconds passed. “We’re not asking for your blessing, Taehyung.” 
“Y/N, you don’t understand. Jungkook may be charming and all that goody two shoes shit in front of everyone, but he’s trouble. You’re only setting yourself up for a lifetime of heartbreak,” your cousin shook his head. “Please. Date whoever you want; not just Jungkook.” 
“I made up my mind, Tae,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to be with him and you can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna go home. I’m tired and exhausted. I know you’ll be going to the afterparty so please don’t get yourself into trouble. Take care, Tae.” 
“Y/N,” he called out but you didn’t respond anymore. You just packed up your things. “Y/N, please.” 
“See you at home, Tae,” you gave him a small smile before leaving the office. 
Why was he so adamant that you don’t date Jeon Jungkook? This question popped in your head as you were making your way out of the Communications building. But you erased it in your mind—Taehyung was just shocked, probably weirded out too that his best friend and cousin were dating. 
Why is he trouble? Another question propped in your mind. 
You sighed deeply. All these questions would be answered when you meet with Jungkook as you made a mental note to ask him. For now, you just wanted to rest. 
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The buzzing sound of your phone vibrating against your desk woke you up from your slumber. With a groan, you sat up, stretching your arms wide, cracking your neck, and letting out a relieved sigh. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but the last thing you remembered was fixing your planner. When you looked at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you were confused why he was calling you, and then it hit you. 
I’ll change and meet you outside the building. 
You quickly answered the call. “Jungkook, hey.” 
“Y/N, are you okay? I waited for you outside the Comm building, but Taehyung said you went home. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jungkook sounded concerned, in contrast to the sound of cheering and music in the background. He must have been at the afterparty already, you concluded. 
“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m sorry. I was just tired so I went home. Are you at the afterparty?” 
“Yeah,” he replied. “The guys dragged me to it, but it’s not really fun. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I’m glad you’re okay though. I was worried.” 
Your heart fluttered yet again. 
“I’m okay. Have fun at the afterparty,” you said, rubbing your eye with your knuckle. 
“Y/N, I was hoping you could come tonight, here, at the afterparty, and start our agreement.” 
Just like that, you were reminded of reality. 
“Oh,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound disappointed. “Um, I don’t know where that is.” 
It was common knowledge that invitations for after parties at Jamsil for championships were only through word of mouth. Not everyone was invited. The only reason you knew of the location of the last three after parties were because of, again, your cousin Taehyung. 
“It’s okay, I’ll come pick you up.” 
“I don’t know what I should wear. I don’t go to a lot of parties,” you said, playing with the loose thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was a habit of yours whenever you were nervous—you needed to play with something whether it was your necklace, earrings, rings, sleeves, etcetera. 
“It doesn’t matter. You look good in everything, Y/N. I’m serious,” Jungkook responded. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t worry too much about what to wear. Just wear what’s comfortable.” 
“Okay. Drive safely, Jungkook.” 
When the phone call ended, you were reminded of what tonight would be, and gone were the worries about what you should wear. Tonight was going to be the night you were going to officially begin helping Jungkook take his revenge on Haemin. You felt like throwing up. 
You were hit by the reality, once again, of what this agreement was about. Jungkook wasn’t being sweet to you because he wanted to but because he needed to. He wasn’t inviting you to the afterparty because he wanted to but because he needed to. He was only talking to you because he was paying you. It was time for you to take things at face value. With that in mind, you began to change. 
True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. It was a whiplash when you saw him at the door, waiting for you instead of your cousin. Wearing a white Calvin Klein shirt tucked under his washed jeans, black combat boots, and his curly hair parted in the middle, he was nothing short of beauty even in the simplicity of his attire. In one hand, he was clutching a denim jacket. 
“Hey,” he greeted as soon as you opened the door. “You look great, Y/N.” 
You suppressed the urge to smile and just nodded. Stepping outside of Taehyung’s condominium unit, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s go.” 
“Is everything okay?” he asked. 
You nodded, clutching the strap of your messenger bag. “Everything’s fine. Let’s just go. Where’s the afterparty anyway?” 
“Y/N,” Jungkook’s hand found its way gently around your wrist, stopping you on your tracks. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” 
“Nothing’s wrong, Jungkook. I just really wanna get over this,” you said with a sigh. 
“I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, still holding onto your wrist. “We don’t have to go to the afterparty if you don’t want to.” 
“No, let’s go. Otherwise, how will you make Haemin jealous?” you stated, plastering a smile on your face even though you were anything but happy. “The sooner she gets jealous, the sooner she will want to be with you again, and the sooner I’ll get my deposit, and move out from here. The sooner everyone wins.” 
There was an indescribable expression on Jungkook’s face. Although his grip on your wrist remained gentle, you could feel the tension brewing between the both of you. 
“You’re right,” he muttered after a while. “Let’s get this over with.” 
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As expected, the afterparty was at a club. You hadn’t been to one but it was exactly as you expected a club to be. Packed with dancing college students, drinks everywhere, smoke in the air, suffocating you the moment you entered the establishment, blinding red, blue, green lights, and booming EDM and Top 40 hits songs blasting on the speakers. Jungkook led the way, holding your hand tightly, and you held his just as tight. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you guessed that it was where Haemin would be. After all, she was the reason why you were here. 
So, it was a surprise when you passed by her and her friends, and toward the staircase. 
“Jungkook! Where are we going?!” you yelled over the loud music. . 
Jungkook didn’t respond, but you knew that he heard you because he pulled you closer to him. And you let him lead you because it was him. You’d let him lead you anywhere if it meant being this close to him. Because no matter what you tell yourself—that this was all fake and pretend and paid—a part of you would always, always believe that he, in some way, reciprocated your feelings sincerely. 
Jungkook passed by the people greeting him along the way until, finally, you reached the empty rooftop. Overlooking the city and its skylines, it was simply breathtaking. There were only broken benches, bottles of beers and discarded cigarette buds on the rooftop along with cracked pots of withered flowers. Here, Jungkook let go of your hand, reached for something from his denim jacket’s pocket—a pack of cigarette and lighter—and offered it to you. 
“I don’t smoke,” you simply stated. It was news to you that he smoked. You knew athletes were forbidden due to health reasons, but you weren’t also naive that you didn’t think some did. 
He nodded, picked one from the box, placed it in between his lips, lit it up, and began to smoke. You took a deep breath, and made your way toward the edge of the rooftop. Moments later, Jungkook was beside you. 
“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, the smell of cigarette strong, making you nauseous. But you didn’t tell him that. 
You thought hard. Jungkook knew nothing about you besides being Taehyung’s cousin. It shouldn’t be that hard but it was, for some reason. And so, you said, “There’s really not much that you should know.” 
To which he replied, “Oh, come on, there must be something,” He nudged your side slightly, letting out a chuckle as he took a long drag. “Don’t think too hard. Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.” 
And so, you did. Before you knew it, you said, “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.” 
“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, but it wasn’t in the disgusted, you’re-in-your-twenties-and-yet-you-haven’t-kissed-somebody kind of way. It was more of a genuine shock. Like it was the hardest thing in the world to believe in.  
You chuckled, nodding. “I don’t know. I just feel weird about it.” 
“But were there any instances where you came close to kissing somebody?” he pressed, flicking his cigarette. 
“Of course, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel…” you trailed off, unsure of what the right word was. 
“Right?” Jungkook suggested and you nodded. “I see.” 
“How about you?” you asked. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” 
“I want to be somebody’s first kiss, and that somebody happens to be you.” 
He was the only one who could do it—cause your heart to do somersaults inside you while also making it beat so fast that you were afraid he would hear it. It was the way he stared at you at that moment, eyes flickering from your eyes which reflected the cityscape below you and the smoke from his cigarette to your parted lips, unsure of what to say from his revelation. 
“Do you think it’d feel right if I kiss you, Y/N?” 
And like always, your mind and heart screamed: this was Jungkook. Who else would you want to be your first kiss? Since you were thirteen, you had been in love with him. You only imagined this in your head, in your wildest dreams. 
And so, you nodded, afraid that if you spoke, no words would leave. 
Jungkook nodded too, and he crushed his cigarette on top of the edge of the rooftop. He stepped towards you, cupped your face, and for a moment, the world stood still. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to crash onto yours. 
And when it finally did, it was nothing that you had ever imagined. 
No sparks. 
No fireworks. 
It was simple, mundane, ordinary—it was a kiss. 
You held onto Jungkook’s wrists as he deepened the kiss, and yet, there were still none of the romantic aspects that you thought would happen during your first kiss. Even when Jungkook moved his hands from your face and around your waist, nothing. It tasted so bitter due to the mix of nicotine and beer that he had. 
But you didn’t mind. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, at a party, where all his peers were. And for that, your first kiss was still memorable. 
Oh, how Jeon Jungkook twisted your world. 
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PART THREE
You had no recollection whatsoever of what happened last night; much less how you got back to your shared condominium unit with Taehyung. But if you were to guess, your cousin probably brought you home as you vaguely remembered him being at the afterparty—much to his chagrin that you came with his best friend. Other moments were like missing puzzle pieces. You only remembered flashes, and you groaned when you felt the throbbing in your temple became stronger. 
Usually, you could hold your liquor better than this. In fact, this was the first time, in a long while, that you could remember having a hangover. Your mother was your drinking buddy—started drinking with you when you were a junior in high school, and although she shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t mind. Your mother was a great mother. Your mother was your best friend. Your mother was a great parent. Yes, she had her shortcomings, but who didn’t? Certainly not you. You remembered the first time she asked you to try Soju, and subconsciously, it brought a smile to your face, and a low chuckle to escape your lips. You made a mental note to text her later.  
As you left your bed, there was a knock on your bedroom door. Knowing it was your cousin, you told him to come in while you fixed your bed, and looked for your phone in the process. 
“Your phone’s in your bag,” Taehyung muttered as he stepped inside your room, and leaned against the wall of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I brought you home too. Jungkook wanted to, but he rode a motorcycle, and you were wasted. It wasn’t safe.” 
You nodded in understanding. You figured out that much. Like what Taehyung said, your phone was indeed inside your bag. Quickly, you unlocked it, and checked your notifications. Some were just annoying spam emails, app notifications, and automated messages from your SIM provider, but there was one message that made your heart beat quickly due to panic that you didn’t even notice Jungkook’s message. 
“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Taehyung said. 
“We will talk, but not right now, I’m late for my tutoring session, Tae,” you hurriedly told him as you texted your tutee that you would be late, but that you would come since it was his midterms next week. 
“Y/N, I’m serious. I still don’t approve of you and Jungkook dating.” 
You should have expected this. In the years you spent with Taehyung, you should have known that he wasn’t the type of person who could accept “no” as an answer, and not getting what he wanted when and if he wanted it. You thought it only applied to everything else in his life; apparently, it also applied to your dating life. 
“Taehyung, haven’t we gotten over this? Who I date is not yours to dictate,” you shook your head, sighing deeply as you gathered everything you needed for your quick shower. You were definitely not going to attend your tutoring session dressed from last night, and smelling like beer and nicotine. 
“Jungkook’s a piece of shit as a boyfriend, Y/N. He’s crazy possessive and he gets so fucking jealous. His charming persona is just that—a persona. I don’t want you to get hurt by him, Y/N, please.” 
The desperation in his voice was evidently obvious. When you looked at him, you were unsure of what to say. How could he say that to his own best friend? 
“If he’s like that—,” 
“He is like that,” 
“Then why are you still friends with him?” you asked, pointedly. When Taehyung couldn’t give you an answer, you nodded. “Right. I thought so. I’m going now, Tae. This conversation is over.” 
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When you arrived at Jamsil’s library, you were forty five minutes late to your session with Yang Jungwon, a freshman from your program, Journalism with a major in Investigative Reporting. You found him in your usual spot, writing away on his yellow pad while nodding his head along the music he was listening to. Inhaling deeply, you made your way toward him. When you were finally near him, you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, but when he saw you—his deep dimpled smile appeared on his face. 
Yang Jungwon was like the little brother you never had but wished you had. You felt bad for thinking that way because you had Taehyung, but as stated, looking after him felt more like a responsibility you had no other choice but to take upon. With Jungwon, even though you were paid to help him with his studies, it never felt like a responsibility to you. You enjoyed spending time with him, helping him out, and sometimes, if the conversation steered into the direction, you enjoyed your deep and meaningful conversations with him. 
You smiled back at him, and took the seat beside him, sitting on it. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Jungwon. You can tell your mom that she doesn’t need to pay me for this session.” 
He shook his head. “No, noona. It’s okay. I didn’t mind the waiting. I got to use it to answer your mock tests.” 
“Really? Let me see. What did you answer first?” you asked, taking your messenger bag off of your shoulder, placing it on the table. 
“The Contemp—,” Jungwon began to say, but then he stopped, which caused you to tear your gaze away from the mock test in your hands, and to your tutee. You followed his gaze, and to your surprise, you saw Jungkook sitting across from you and Jungwon with a gentle smile on his face. He had his lip ring on—it was the first thing you noticed about him that day. 
“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. Why did it feel like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do? Why did you suddenly feel anxious? 
Taehyung’s words rang in your ears: He’s crazy possessive. His charming persona is just that—a persona. 
Was all of it true? Was that the reason why he was here? Because you were with another guy? 
“I guess you didn’t read my message, babe,” he chuckled. “I told you not to buy lunch anymore because I cooked some for you. Here, you can share it with your friend…” he trailed off, politely smiling at Jungwon. 
“H-Hello, I’m Yang Jungwon,” Jungwon stammered, starstruck that Jamsil’s golden boy was talking to him. 
“Hello, Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me hyung,” Jungkook turned to you. “I’ll get going now, okay?” He pushed the lunch box towards you. “Eat. There’s hangover soup in there too.” 
You gave him a look to which he grinned at. “Ah, don’t worry, Jungwon. She can tutor you even though she’s dr—,” 
“Okay, thank you, Jeon Jungkook,” you interrupted him, making his grin wider. You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t hide the blush coating your cheeks from his sweet gesture. Then, you wondered, as Jungkook took his leave, did he do the same thing to Haemin? 
“I didn’t know you and Jeon Jungkook hyung are dating,” Jungwon brought you out of your trance, gaze finally now upon him rather than the absent figure of Jungkook. 
“Yeah, it just happened,” you said to him. “But come on, let’s focus on your mock tests.” 
Yet despite saying that, you were the one who couldn’t focus because the only thing in your mind was: how did Jungkook know you were at the library? 
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Taehyung’s words plagued your mind the entire day. Even while you were working, all you could think about was his words about his best friend. How could he say those things about Jungkook? Someone he’d been best friends with since they were little? Why was he so adamant about you not dating him? Taehyung usually kept a distance from your personal life, not even asking about your mother because he knew of the complicated relationship your family had with his family. So, why was he all over your case now that you were “dating” Jungkook? You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. 
Although you confirmed with the library interaction that Jungkook wasn’t the possessive type, seeing as he just walked away after giving you the lunch box, and even let Jungwon call him hyung, there was still that nagging thought in your mind: what if Taehyung’s word held weight? What if they were true? 
You thought about it: if they were true, even when you were only fake dating, would he still be as possessive as Taehyung said he was? What happened for your cousin to even tell you something like that?  
Your thoughts were put on a halt when your manager called for your name. You worked as a part-time waitress at a restaurant called Rado. You used to be a full-time employee, but since you were in your last year of uni, you asked if you could still be employed on a part-time basis, and fortunately, your manager, Han Somin, agreed. 
“Yes, Ms. Han?” you asked as you entered her small office inside the employees’ locker room. 
“Y/N, hi, come inside, I just have something to tell you,” she said, taking her eyeglasses off, and kindly smiling at you. You nodded and did as told. “It’s nothing serious,” she continued, which alleviated the nerves sinking in your bones. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to be part of this party we’re catering to on Saturday. It’s a listening party for an artist named J-Hope; he released a new album. Maybe you’ve heard of him.” 
You shook your head. “No, Ms. Han. But I’d love to be part of the staff. Where would it be held?” 
“It’ll be held at his label’s function room. I’ll send you the details, alright?” You nodded, then she dismissed you, and went back to work. 
Money had always been a sensitive topic for you. Growing up, you knew that you didn’t have a lot but you were comfortable due to both of your parents’ wages. Your father was a simple office man while your mother had her own small flower shop. They were able to provide for your basic needs and wants but when your father passed away—your mother’s earnings at the flower shop weren’t sustainable. Hence, at an early age, you learned how to look for jobs, and learned the value of money and earning it. Hence, the reason why, besides loving Jungkook all your life, you simply could not half-ass fake dating him because it was innate in you that when you do a job, you give it your hundred percent. 
Part of you wished you didn’t have to worry about your finances. That, like other students at Jamsil, you could have fun and enjoy college life without worrying if you would still have a roof over your head eve though you failed an exam or if you would still be able to eat the next day if you buy a food late at night because you were so hungry that you couldn’t sleep. 
Having money meant having freedom to do all the things that you wanted to do—and you weren’t free. Not yet, anyway, but moving to your own place was a start. That’s why no matter what people say, you would see fake dating Jeon Jungkook through because whether you liked it or not—he was the key to your freedom. 
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Saturday rolled around quickly. Adorned in your Rado’s uniform—a simple white linen long sleeve polo shirt, black slacks, black high heels, and your hair pulled back to show your face—you were already at the label’s function room preparing for the listening party of J-Hope. His music had been playing since you got there and you felt yourself being immersed and vibing to it that you made a mental note to check his other songs out afterwards. 
You were in charge of the food and drinks. Ms. Han was also present to supervise and with you was your co-worker, Kang Seulgi, and Kim Hanbin. It was an intimate type of party; hence, the small group of staff and catering. 
“I wonder who we’ll see here,” Seulgi told you as she placed the food fingers on the table while you poured drinks into the glasses. 
“I heard it’s just indie artists that J-Hope invited. It’s the target audience for his album, you see,” Hanbin piped in, fixing his necktie. 
“Whoever it is, I’m sure—,” 
“Kim Y/N, it’s nice to see you here,” 
You only heard that voice a couple of times but you wouldn’t mistake it for another. It was ingrained in your mind so deeply. It was the voice of the person you hoped was you for a long time—who got to touch, kiss, hug, care, and love Jeon Jungkook for four years. It was the voice of the person who was Jeon Jungkook’s first love, and most likely still loved. It was the voice of the person that was never going to be you in his life. It was the voice of: 
“Lee Haemin.” 
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PART FOUR (a sneak peek)
“Lee Haemin.” 
In one word, she was beautiful. Dressed in a small black dress with thin straps and a pair of black heels, her silky black hair pulled back, showing off her idol-like face, Lee Haemin was just a sight to behold. Smiling at you, she took a step forward. 
“Is it okay if we talk?” she asked. 
As though you were hypnotized, you nodded wordlessly. A part of you already knew what the talk would be, or at least that’s what you thought. Nodding back, Haemin smiled at Seulgi and Hanbin before leading you out of the function room and somewhere more private. She opened a door leading to what seemed like the conference room, and gestured that you enter first so you did. She followed in suit, and you took a short time to look at your surroundings. 
It was all white with an oval table in the middle and black swivel chairs surrounding it. Adjacent to you were the ceiling to floor windows, showcasing the city landscape. Connected at the top was a projector and on the left side was a projector screen. You wondered how Haemin got access to such room, and as though reading your mind, she said: 
“My family owns a stock, if you’re wondering why I got access to this room. We can pretty much use any room in the company.”
Nodding your head, you turned to face her. “I see. That’s great. I didn’t know that.” 
“Not many people do,” she answered. “But that isn’t really why I wanted to talk to you.” 
“I know,” you replied. “You wanna talk about Jeon Jungkook.” 
Haemin smiled. “I heard you’re dating him.” 
“From who? Taehyung?” You knew they were friends. Not exactly close, but they were acquainted due to Jungkook. 
She shook her head. “From Jungkook." Stunned, your mouth parted ways a little. Haemin smiled. "Surprising, I know, but it truly was him who told me that he was with you." 
"Why would he say that to you?" 
"Because he loved me first." 
And it was the truth. The truth hurts but it was the truth nevertheless. You weren't the first person he ever loved, ever had a deep and humane connection with. Everything about your relationship was a lie, a cover up. Theirs was true and real. Jungkook loved Haemin; not you.
Forcing a smile upon your face, you answered, “He loves me now. I don’t see the point of having this conversation, to be honest.”
“No, he doesn’t love you, Y/N. He wants you. Those two things are different,” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hence, Haemin continued, “Loving someone lights up your world. Wanting someone, now that’s a different thing. To want something is to own it.” 
“And your point? Jungkook wants to own me?” Even your words sent shivers down your spine. You loved Jungkook since you could remember. But did you want him to own you? 
“Yes,” she replied. “Jungkook’s the type of person who gets and gets and gets and never likes to not have what he wants, what he needs. I’m telling you all these because prior to him dating you,” she smiled when she said ‘dating’ as though she knew it was only fake. “He lost me. Now he’s trying to get you to get me back, to own me again. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t love him anymore. Don’t trap yourself. Get out as early as you can.” 
You didn’t know what to say. So, you did the only thing you could do: walk away. But then Haemin called your name, and you stopped on your tracks, looking at her over your shoulder. “Don’t let love blind you, Y/N. I know you’ve loved him for years, but he’s only going to break you—mind, body, soul.” 
“Thank you for the advice, Haemin,” you told her. “But I didn’t need it. Please respect my relationship with Jungkook. Thank you and enjoy the night away.”
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author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. i know this isn’t much but i hope having a sneak peek into chapter four brought you a bit of joy and excitement. feel free to send me asks regarding burnout and other things. see you in price of freedom next. i’ll be posting it again on tumblr for easy viewing but it’ll also be on hold for the time being. thank you and much love, aika. 
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buckleyx · 6 months
Note
You asked for mike request and I only think abt him at the moment so imma tell you all of them.
-so mike coming home from work (established relation ship btw) and see you sleeping in his clothes and on his bed and just like awakens something in him like makes him love more.
THE COMFORT OF YOUR ARMS M.S
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the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner!
Author’s note: thank you for requesting love!! this was such a cute ideaa i love my bf mike < 3
Mike Schmidt x gender!neutral reader
Warnings: nothing just fluff
masterlist
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Mike was exhausted. It had been a long night and all he could think about was going home and cuddle up next to you. It was early in the morning when Mike locked the entrance to the pizzeria and tiredly drove back home. His mind felt blank, drained and all he could think about was you.
A soft hum escaped his lips as he finally unlocked the front door. The brunette sighed tiredly before kicking of his shoes and tossing his jacket somewhere on the couch. The house was quiet, the early sunlight beemed through the curtains making Mike muffle a soft yawn.
His feet dragged him to the bedroom, ready to fall on the soft duvet next to you. Mike blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the dark room but thanks to the early sunrise (and broken curtain you were working on replacing) he stopped Infront of the bed to admire you curled up wearing his favorite hoodie. You had your arms wrapped around a pillow together with his side of the blanket. Your boyfriend couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight in front of him. God. You looked beautiful. He thought. And as he predicted It once again felt like all of his worries disappeared the moment he saw you.
Your boyfriend carefully crawled next to you and successfully pulled away the pillow you were holding. A content smile crossed Mike's lips as he wrapped his own arms around you instead, kissing the top of your head in the process. His breathing relaxed as he enjoyed this peaceful moment he longed all night for.
Mike's eyes glanced up at the ceiling before reminding himself to remove the leftover tape of the Nebraska poster he ripped off. He knew how hard you had been trying to make his house more cozy and welcoming for him and Abby and he couldn't be more grateful. You were well aware of your boyfriend's dream adventures but Mike always made a promise to never wander off at night when you were with him. As much as you reassured him you didn't mind he kept his ground.
You knew how important 'sleep' was for Mike and this was a part of him you couldn't help with. This was his own journey. But still it was hard. You already saw Mike less often during the day because of your new office job and now you had to miss him during nights as well. When Mike was home, you didn't see a lot of him either, he kept himself tucked away in the bedroom reliving the same memory over and over again. It broke your heart seeing him so in pain, so absent and obsessed with memories even after all these years of knowing him. But it was a part of Mike you couldn't help him with, it didn't matter how much you tried, it was his journey. His way of finding peace. So moments like this, when you were both wrapped in each others arms you both savoured to the fullest.
Mike stroked your hair, making you softly stir before comfortably laying your head further on his chest. "hmm missed you." You mumbled tiredly, not really awake yet. Mike chuckled at your adorable state. His clothes looked so good on you and he couldn't help but feel some sort of pride of catching you wearing them when he wasn't around.
"Missed you too baby." He whispered before pressing another kiss to your hair. "Try getting some more sleep."
You hummed, slipping your hand under his shirt and wrapping your arm around his waist. "I love you." You murmured, already dozing off again.
"I love you more princess." He smiled, before the unbearable exhaustion took over and lulled him into sleep aswell.
My requests are open! :)
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haikyuuhoo · 6 months
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tired eyes
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pairing: gojo x reader
wc: 790
warnings: light angst, minor manga spoilers
a/n: tagging @shotorus in this bc sel your sleepy gojo thoughts made me unable to stop thinking about this idea I've wanted to write. I know this is so different to the vibes of what you were talking about but I figured you deserved the tag since this lil drabble finally made its way out of my head bc of you <3 (pls don't feel like you need to read this I'm nervy just tagging you lol)
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Gojo’s keys clang loudly against the bowl on the table in the entryway, and he has half a mind to cringe at the noise, seeing as it’s so late and you’re probably asleep by now. He unzips his jacket as he drags his feet in the direction of the bedroom, heaving out a sigh and finally letting his shoulders relax a little, letting some of the tension he’s been harboring for days leave his body. He's so tired that he feels like he could fall asleep in his clothes without even crawling beneath the duvet, though he knows he should at least shower first. But that's all forgotten when he steps into the warm glow spilling into the hallway from the light on your nightstand, and he hesitates for a moment when he notices that you're not asleep—in fact, you're very much awake, like you've been waiting for him.
Your gaze darts up when you see the figure in the doorway, a smile immediately lighting up your face. “You’re home,” you say as you set aside the book you were reading and pull your headphones off.
Gojo raises an eyebrow, making his way to the edge of the bed where you rise onto your knees to meet him. “You’re still up?”
And you nod, shrugging one shoulder slightly as you bring your hands up to cup his face. “Of course. Can’t really sleep well when I’m waiting for you to come back from a mission, ya know?” You say it so casually, but it makes him frown knowing you’re referring to the nineteen agonizing days he was gone from you. You lean in to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips to his in a hungry kiss that has him grasping your waist and pulling you flush against him.
“Well, as much as I wish you wouldn’t stay up just for me, I’m glad you did,” he murmurs into your mouth.
“Mmm,” is all you hum in response, pushing your fingertips underneath his blindfold. And then you kiss his nose, then his forehead, and then briefly his lips again.
And those lips fall into probably the prettiest pout you’ve ever seen. “You gonna take it off?” he asks, his voice low, and normally the tone would have you moving quickly to take everything off of him, but not tonight. Tonight, his voice is low with exhaustion, and you'd noticed the way it seemed to seep into his bones the moment he entered the room.
“No,” you say softly, and he nearly whines, “you’re tired. Your eyes—” You gently let your fingertips smooth across his eyelids over the blindfold “—I’m sure they need the rest.”
Gojo had a penchant for coming home with migraines after missions, all that time with his blindfold off to help him fight draining him and making his eyes even more sensitive than normal, and you’re sure tonight is no different.
“But I want to see you.”
The corner of your mouth tilts up. “I may not know exactly how your technique works, Satoru, but I know you can see me.”
And this time he does whine, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead against yours. “You know it’s not the same. I wanna see you.”
You hum, stringing him along like you’re thinking about it and toying with the edge of the black fabric. “Okay,” you finally say, “just a peek, yeah?” Before he even has a chance to respond you're lifting it off and dropping it to the side. His hair falls around his face, messier than it normally is, and you gently brush it back.
Gojo blinks a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the light, and your chest tightens at the sleepy smile he gives you, at the way his eyes seem dimmer than usual. “Hi,” he whispers.
And you’re suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion that has you blinking back tears. “Hi.” You cup his face again, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “I missed you.”
He flashes you a grin. “Aww, no need to miss me too much, you know I can’t stay away from you.”
And you both know it’s his attempt to lighten the mood, to pretend that someday there's going to be a time when you’re not waiting up for him, when you can be at peace despite knowing his responsibilities will always take him away for days at a time, when he's not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—when there's not a very real possibility that someday he may not come home to you.
So you decide that today you two will pretend, and you let your tears fall, giving him a wobbly smile. “I know.”
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reblogs & comments always appreciated <3
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karajaynetoday · 3 months
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and i'd give up forever to touch you, cause i know that you'd feel me somehow | jack hughes
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Thank you for all the love on hey now, you're an all-star - i am honestly blown away by those notes!! here is a part two. let me know what you think, and what your predictions or desires are for a potential part three! xo
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings:  nothing major. uni stress again, jack being a bit of a dick. angst. all of the angst.
(This is a fem reader insert) read part one here read the part three here
More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here
Waking up was always slightly disorienting for you, and the next morning was no different.
Your dreams could be quite vivid, or you couldn’t remember them at all once you awoke; but the first thing you could sense on this particular morning was the strong scent of coffee wafting through the room. As your eyes adjusted to the morning light streaming in the windows, you became suddenly and painfully aware that you were alone on the couch. A blanket had been draped over you at some stage of your slumber, but Jack was nowhere to be seen.
You sat up slowly, rubbing your face, trying to ignore the anxiety that was building in your chest. You could hear a shower running, somewhere in the hotel suite, and hastily threw the blanket off your body as you scanned the room for your belongings.
Shoes. Where were your shoes? And phone? Keys? Did you bring a bag with you? What time was it? What time did your class start? Would you be able to get an Uber to Campus in time? Wait, was your class online or on campus this morning?
Your brain was churning out a thousand thoughts a minute, and your heart rate was starting to match it. You felt like a deer in headlights. Or a cat under a rocking chair. Or… just… lost. You were so lost.
Someone cleared their throat behind you and you jolted, whipping around to face Quinn, who was decked out in a brown leather jacket and grey pants, holding two steaming coffee mugs in his hands.
You must have looked distressed, because Quinn offered you a gentle smile and one of the mugs which you cautiously accepted.
“Thanks, Q. I really should get going soon, though. Get out of your hair before the big draft day circus arrives.” Your voice was still slightly groggy with sleep.
“Take as long as you need, sugarplum. Our call time isn’t for another two hours. Jack’s in the shower, and he’d hate it if you left without saying goodbye.” Quinn raised his eyebrows at you as you both took a sip of coffee.
“Watching Jack try and untangle himself from you on the couch did provide me with my morning entertainment though. Surprised he didn’t end up with another injury given how clumsy he usually is.” You felt your cheeks get warm at Quinn’s comment and the smirk on his face.
“He could’ve just woken me up…” You offered weakly, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance.
“No offence, but that was a risk that neither of us are willing to take. Not after last summer.” Quinn bit back a laugh as you narrowed your eyes at him.
Last summer at the lake house, you’d stayed up all night trying to finish the latest novel in your favourite fiction series. Jack had come into your room to wake you for the boat day you’d discussed the day before, but instead of a gentle approach to waking you up, he’d literally jumped onto your bed. Which caused you to sit bolt upright and “accidentally” punch him in the face. At least he thought the black eye made him look tough for a couple of weeks.
“Nice jacket, by the way.” You tried to change the subject.
Quinn stood up straight and puffed out his chest.
“You think so? Jack and I got to go down to Hermés and pick out our outfits yesterday. I felt suuuuper out of my league to be honest.”
Your eyes widened at the brand name Quinn just dropped, slightly choking on your coffee.
“Hermés? That’s proper designer, Q. Like, tens of thousands of dollars of jacket, right?”
Quinn didn’t answer you, but he didn’t have to. The look on his face told you that the jacket he was wearing was worth more than six months of your rent. Maybe more.
“Well, we have to do this red carpet thing, and I figured we should probably try a bit harder than team merch.” Quinn reached over and tugged playfully on the sleeve of your hoodie.
Well, Jack’s hoodie. That you happened to be wearing. Which was previously super comfortable, but now felt like your skin was on fire underneath it.
“What time is it, anyway?” There you go again, changing the subject.
“Like, 9.15?” Quinn offered, pulling his phone out of his pocket and showing you the time on his home screen.
9.15? Why was that important to you? What was at 9.15?
The test. In your economics class. Worth a decent chunk of your grade. It was at 9.30am. But was it online or on campus?
You downed the rest of your coffee in one gulp, ignoring how it burned your throat, and thrust your mug back at Quinn before tugging the hoodie over your head and throwing it on the floor. You turned around, searching wildly for your phone and spotting it on the couch where you’d been sleeping, not that long ago. You lunged for it, frantically unlocked and trying to find your university schedule in the calendar app.
“Oh thank god. It’s online. Holy fuck.” You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself down.
“Sugar? You okay?” Jack’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you looked up from your phone to see him standing in the doorway to his room.
Clad in black jeans, with a towel around his shoulders and his hair still damp from the shower. Shirtless. Of course he was shirtless. You squeezed your eyes shut out of instinct, and also to stop yourself from blatantly checking him out. When you opened them, Jack was striding towards you, his face etched in concern.
“What do you need?” Jack spoke quietly, but firmly, reaching out to rub your arms reassuringly. His touch sent a zap of electricity through you, which seemed to kick your brain back into gear.
“I need… Do you have a laptop I can borrow? I have an online test in 15 minutes that I forgot about, for a subject I’m almost failing, and if I miss the test then I don’t know that I’ll be able to recover my grade.” You half-whispered, almost wishing that Jack and Quinn couldn’t hear your confession out loud.
You were supposed to be the smart one. That’s what everyone said, when you were growing up. You were the brains, Jack was the beauty. You were the bookish one, he was the brutally athletic one. Talking about failing university out loud was suddenly terrifying, even though you’d known it was a possibility for a few weeks or more.
“Hey… hey.” Jack squeezed your arms, trying to centre you, and dropped his head down to your eye level. “It’s okay. I’ve got a laptop you can use, and you can stay here for as long as you need.”
All you could muster was a nod in response, and Jack leaned in to kiss your forehead before disappearing back into his room, presumably to find his laptop. You sat back down on the couch, suddenly unsure of what to do with yourself.
Quinn had briefly left to place your coffee mug in the kitchenette, but he was back and leaned over the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder.
“You’ll smash it, kiddo. Make sure you ask Jack what his laptop password is though, I’d hate for you to get locked out during your test.” Quinn said quietly, before his phone rang and he stepped into his room to answer it.
“Here you go, sunshine. Fully charged, but the charger is in my room if you need it.” Jack was back in the living room, handing his laptop to you, already logged in and a web browser open for you.
You stood up from the couch and moved towards the dining table, setting the laptop down and pulling out a chair. It only took a minute to log into your university portal and navigate to the subject page you needed for the online test. You were about to click the start button, when Quinn’s comment flashed in your mind.
“Jack?” You squeaked, turning to face the couch where Jack had flopped down moments before. Still clad in black jeans, still fucking shirtless, absolutely ignorant of the effect he was having on your ability to breathe calming, mindlessly scrolling on his phone.
“What’s up?”
“What’s… what’s your password? In case I get locked out and you’re not here? Could you write it down for me please?”    You reached for the hotel notepad and complimentary pen that was on the table you were sitting at, waving them in Jack’s direction.
Jack rolled his bottom lip under his teeth as he stood up and took the notepad from you and began scribbling on it.
“I have to go downstairs and meet Bratter for some team social media stuff, but I’ll see you later, okay? Text me when you finish your test.” You’d never seen Jack move so quickly as he handed the notepad back to you, retrieved a shirt and jacket from his bedroom and disappeared out the hotel room door, all within a minute or two. 
You were confused, to say the least. You glanced down at the notepad Jack had thrust into your hands, and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped when you saw what he scrawled on it.
Password - SugarpluM2001Jh!
Quinn had headed out not long after Jack did, leaving you to complete your test in silence. Despite the disorienting start to your morning, and all of your revision notes being on your desk at home, you managed to scrape through with a 75% result which would supplement your final grade significantly. 
The waves of relief washed over you, as you clicked out of web page you were on. You reached for your phone and typed a quick message to Jack as promised, and you were confused when the laptop chimed with a notification noise. 
Oh. Oh. Jack’s laptop was linked to his phone, and his messages were suddenly popping up on the laptop screen in front of you. 
You shouldn’t pry. You knew that. Your logical brain was telling you to close the laptop screen and get going. But your anxiety brain was telling you that you should take a peek. Just a little one. 
Before your logical brain and anxiety brain could battle it out properly, the laptop notification chimed again, and a girl’s name that was not your own flashed up on the screen. 
What happened last night? I thought you were coming to my room after your dinner?? Xx
You felt your jaw drop, as you started to realise what was happening in this conversation you shouldn’t have been privy to. You froze, as the little bubble popped up in the chat, showing you that Jack was typing a reply.
Sorry babe i got caught up with some boring family bullshit, you know how it is. Would’ve rather have been with you obvs but i just couldn’t get away. Then today is crazy with media stuff anyway. I’ll see u at the drew house event tonight though? Go back to yours after that? Xo
Sounds great. I’ll be wearing this for you, J. *image attached*
You slammed the laptop shut when the image loaded, showing someone wearing a red and black lingerie set. 
You felt bad for snooping, but you felt worse knowing that Jack considered last night as “boring family bullshit”. Is that all it was? Were you stupid for thinking it was more? That it could ever be more between the two of you?
Or was that all you could ever hope to be? Like family. Forever intertwined, always floating in each other’s orbit, but never more than friends. Platonic soulmates at best, childhood acquaintances at worst. 
You were spiralling, yet again, and your phone buzzing with a notification provided a brief reprieve. Until you saw that it was a text from Jack.
Well done on your test, champ!! Knew u could do it. See you at the draft tonight? There’s two passes in your email for you and your dad to come visit. Might even get to meet bublé, if that’s your vibe lmao
Suddenly, there was a bitter taste in your mouth. Why was he pretending like he wanted to spend time with you? When surely all he actually wanted to do was sneak off with the girl he was texting just moments ago?
You swiped into check your email app, and there were the passes as promised. You quickly scanned the email to see if they were assigned to any particular name, and all you could see was “guest of Jack Hughes” rather than you or your dad specifically. You quickly hit the “forward” button, and sent them on to your dad and your cousin Tom, who had met Jack and Quinn a handful of times over the years, and was a massive hockey fan like your dad. You knew Tom would love to go, and your dad would be happy enough to have Tom join him.
You sent through a quick message to Tom saying you weren’t feeling well and that he’d be doing you a favour by taking your pass, to which he immediately replied with lots of exclamation points and thanks. 
Next, you typed a message back to Jack.
Thanks again for the laptop and for the passes. Something’s come up so i can’t come but dad will be there with tom, hope that is ok? Didn’t want the passes to go to waste. Good luck for the draft, don’t let quinn bully you too much lol
You were hoping that Jack wouldn’t question you, or pick up on the shift in tone. Well, maybe you wanted him to sense the tone a little bit. Jack’s typing bubble popped up in the text conversation, then disappeared, then popped up again, then suddenly your phone was vibrating with a call and Jack’s name was flashing across the top of your screen. Your fingers hovered over the answer/decline buttons, before you abandoned both and dropped your phone back onto the table, letting the call go to voicemail. 
You stood up from the table and began to gather your belongings. The bitter taste was still in your mouth, but otherwise you felt nothing. Just numb. You barely realised what you were doing when your body moved towards the hotel suite door, into the elevator, through the lobby and out onto the street. You waited a few minutes for your Uber, before slipping away through the streets of downtown, and as far away from Jack as you felt you needed to be. 
By the time you got home, Jack had called you twice, and sent you about ten text messages of various question marks and confusion, and a fair amount of concern. You plugged your phone into the charger on your bedside table before heading into your bathroom for a much-needed shower.
Your shower felt like it took about 3 hours, when in reality it was probably more like 20 minutes at most. You washed your hair, and spent some time sitting down on the shower floor staring into space, pondering the events of the last 24 hours. When you finally emerged, putting on your favourite sweatpants and an old Canucks hoodie you found on your bedroom floor, you realise your phone was flashing with more notifications.
You settled down in bed before picking up your phone and scrolling through the home screen. Jack had resorted to sending you photos of sad baby pandas to elicit a response, your dad had texted you to say thank you for the passes and to feel better soon, but it was a message from Quinn that caught your eye. 
Q: What did he do? He’s freaking out. Are you okay? I can beat him up if you want me to. Or give him a hug. Just let me know which is more appropriate based on whatever the fuck he did 
You hesitated, contemplating whether to tell Quinn the truth or not. But then you remembered that Quinn had literally known you since you were four. He could tell if you were lying in a heartbeat, even over text message. 
You: Maybe just remind Jack that his text messages pop up on his laptop. See if that helps him to figure it out lmao sorry to miss tonight quinny, hope you draft all the canucks you want xo
Q: He now looks like he’s going to throw up?? Still unsure if hugging or punching is required tbh
New message - Jack Hughes -
You sighed and rolled your eyes, before clicking on Jack’s message notification. 
I am an idiot. I’m so sorry, sugar. I swear i am.
Sorry for categorising me as “boring family bullshit” or sorry that you got caught trying to get your dick wet? Or sorry for pretending to be my friend when you apparently just tolerate me to be polite?
We have press for two more hours then i can call you. You’re my best friend, sugar. I love you.
You felt tears start to prick in your eyes as you read Jack’s message. Sure, he loved you. But not in the same way that you loved him. And right now, you felt like that would never change. 
You clicked out of your message thread with Jack without replying, and opened up your conversation with Quinn instead. 
I’ll come to the all-star game on saturday, but nothing else, if that’s okay with you? I just need some space for a bit, sorry x 
Whatever you need, kiddo. I’ll give the game passes to your dad tonight. I still don’t know what jack did, but i think not seeing you will be punishment enough for whatever it was??
You didn’t reply to Quinn’s message. You didn’t reply to any more calls or messages for the next day or so, switching between trying to catch up on study and catching up on some Netflix episodes. You were typing notes on your laptop on Saturday morning, when a New Jersey Devils Twitter alert popped up on the screen and caught your attention.
#NEWS: Jack went home to Jersey last night after participating in Thursday’s draft and Friday’s media hits. He was extremely honoured to be a part of All-Star Weekend, especially sharing it with his brother. He’s really close to returning and wanted to get back so he could continue to focus on the rest of the Devils season. 
The bitter taste you thought you’d gotten rid of suddenly returned with a vengeance. 
Jack went home to Jersey last night. You had no idea when you’d see him again. And to be completely honest, you weren’t even sure that you wanted to. Your laptop dinged again, this time with an email notification. You were confused to say the least when the new email appeared to be from an airline, with a voucher attached.
Your phone buzzed with a new text message.
I couldn’t stand being there knowing you’re mad at me, but i also don’t want to force you to talk to me when you’re not ready to talk yet either. Use the voucher to come to jersey whenever you want. I’m sorry. 
You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, torn between accepting Jack’s offer and wanting to be stubborn and not let go of being mad at him just yet. You hated what Jack had done, but you also hated yourself for cutting short your time with him that was already in short supply as it was.
I’ll let you know. Might be a flight to Jersey, might be a flight to Michigan. We’ll see. Good luck getting back out there!
You knew the Michigan comment was a cheap shot, but Jack had hurt you, so you wanted to be childish and hurt him back. The idea of not seeing him for almost four months until the summer break, where you’d all gather at the Hughes lake house as you did every year, made you feel slightly ill. 
Whatever you want, sugar. Mac n cheese in michigan on me. Love you. 
The mac and cheese comment made you smile, and the love you comment made you want to cry. 
Love you too, J. Maybe too much. I don’t know. I need time. x
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pumpkinbxtch · 11 days
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— two people, one umbrella ∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° headcanons
the hoO boys when starts to rain and there's just one umbrella. ft. apollo
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who's here: frank zhang, jason grace, leo valdez, percy jackson and apollo
warnings: none
a/n: its friday, so headcanons arrives here. kisses for y'all. enjoy.
— frank *⁠.⁠✧
This guy doesn't hesitate for a second, he's got you covered with the umbrella, most (if not all) of it.
"I don't want you getting sick," he says while holding the umbrella.
He's so tall he doesn't need to raise it any higher than necessary, and you keep pushing it toward the center so each of you gets at least a little covered.
He might pretend he's covered, but his shoulder is getting terribly soaked.
He's thinking about the shape-shift, imagining what it would be like if you had a canary on your shoulder while walking in the dry, safe rain.
But in the end, he obeys you. He takes your hand and tries to cover both of you (because he thought he might get sick, then you'd want to help him, and he doesn't want to bother you).
— jason *⁠.⁠✧
Once the umbrella is fully open, he figures out the best way for both of you to be covered, always putting you first in his mind.
He moves you in front of him, but he can see you might trip.
He considers just covering you, but he knows you'd both end up fighting and getting wet anyway.
So, he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer. Now, you're both under the umbrella, dry.
He smiles at you and takes advantage of the closeness to kiss your cheek and your knuckles.
“let me, my love” he says soflty if you try to help him with the umbrella.
He's the type to hold your hand and tuck it into his jacket to keep you warm.
Another thing he could do is control the air so the umbrella holds itself up and you can walk together even more comfortably.
— leo *⁠.⁠✧
"I already anticipated that!" he exclaimed when he saw that both of you weren't completely covered by the umbrella he was carrying and smiled eagerly at you.
He presses a button on the umbrella's handle and it expands even more, Hurray! You're both covered.
But...
As you continue walking on the sidewalk, Leo looks at other couples in similar positions, only much closer, cuddling and lovingly playing around, while the umbrella with the improvements he invented works so well that you even walk a bit away from him.
Oh no... :(
He wants to do those cheesy things with you too, and he plays the fool.
If a child of Hephaestus can fix something, they can also break it, so he presses the button too hard, for breaking it. The extra space is gone.
"What happened?" you ask confused, some drops start to wet your hair, and Leo smiles seeing how beautiful the dew looks on you,
he just shrugs "I don't know, I guess it doesn't work anymore" he says uninterestedly, and he pulls you to him impatiently,
definitely using some of his warmth so you don't get cold.
He adjusts himself, hugs you, and you walk together.
— percy *⁠.⁠✧
He literally gives a fuck if it rains or not, so the problem is, he never carries an umbrella.
But that's because he can control his waterproofing. If Percy Jackson doesn't want to get wet, he won't, but you're not him.
"Don't worry, babe," he says with a confident smile as you cover yourself with your hand from the increasingly heavy rain.
He bites his lips and looks above you, now the rain avoids you both, and you're no longer getting wet.
He winks at you, and you hug him sideways. Let the mist take care of what others see, and he leans in for a kiss. You give it to him.
suddenly feeling the drops hitting your hair again. For a few seconds, neither of you cares, and he hugs you, prolonging the kiss.
A kiss in the rain.
When the water trickles down your noses and you can taste some of those drops, you break apart with a giggle.
"Oops," he says, and he focuses again to keep you both rain-free.
Though you run to get home as soon as possible because for Percy, it's hard not to want to stop and kiss and cuddle you.
— apollo *⁠.⁠✧
He's a god, and the god of the Sun. He could literally make a few calls to get rid of that silly rain bothering his beloved.
But oh no, Apollo lives for the drama, for love, it's for the feelings he exist, so he conjures up an umbrella and covers you.
Apollo will definitely sing "Singing in the Rain" while dragging you along and giving you gentle spins.
For him, it's such a mundane moment, but because he's with you, he wants to turn it into the greatest musical ever told, because it's for the two of you and for him, it's better.
He takes your hand and swings it with great humor.
He's literally a sun walking on the streets full of people grumpy because of the bad weather and a gray, cloudy landscape.
When he sees you smile and chuckle, his spirit overflows with joy, and unintentionally, the sun appears among those clouds, and the rainbow makes a nice trio in the sky.
He gives you a peck on the lips when you raise your eyebrows at his mischief.
"I can't help it," he says with a smile and links your arm with his to continue the walk.
*⁠.⁠✧
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waldau · 1 month
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hand in mine — lee seokmin | 1,550 words | fluff
slightly inspired by my friend and their partner, i didn't know it was possible for two people to be so in love :') here's just...dk being sappy. sappy dk.
gender neutral reader. warnings: bonus pov?
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dokyeom swears you're like a portable human charger.
when he's away, whether it's because he's still in practice or because he's on tour or even when he's at his parents' place, a single phone call from you is enough to lift his spirits to get him through the rest of the day. weekends spent at each other's places together are almost enough to convince him to just become an apartment hermit.
it's been true for ages — and it's true again, tonight.
or it will be, if you'll stop talking to one kim mingyu.
dokyeom's getting antsier the longer you stand there talking to mingyu, nodding along to something he's telling you. can't it wait till tomorrow? doesn't mingyu see he's in dire need of recharging?
now he knows mingyu's not telepathic, but somehow the younger man realizes dokyeom's staring at the two of you, so he finishes whatever he's saying with a nod towards where dokyeom's sitting. you follow his gaze and smile when you see dokyeom, who swears his heart melts a little, right there.
but then you stop to greet joshua, chatting with him for a minute (a whole minute, in this economy?) before you're standing right next to dokyeom.
he stretches his arms out to you. you bend down, letting him wrap himself around you the best he can. it's good, but it's not enough. he lets go only to tug at your hand. "sit down."
you look around. "there's no place, kyeomie. i don't mind standing."
he frowns at you. "i mind. you can sit in my lap."
you give him a look. "in front of your friends? i'd rather not."
dokyeom pouts. "they're your friends, too."
"of course i know that, baby. but they don't ever stop teasing us, do they?"
"ugh. they'll make fun of me, not you. please?"
you run a hand through his hair. "i don't want them to make fun of you, either."
he huffs. "fine. c'mere," he mumbles, scooting to give you some more space. you go willingly this time, settling yourself into the minimal space next to him. it's not easy when there's already thirteen of them in a room, but he manages to nudge chan away to give you some more space.
"hi," you whisper, letting him throw his hand around your shoulder to pull you closer. "missed you today."
dokyeom pulls back to look at you. he feels almost shy to have all your attention on him, silly as it sounds. "just today?" he asks, grinning when you roll your eyes. "you got here safely?"
you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his nose. "perfectly. there was way lesser traffic than i expected."
"good."
you snuggle into dokyeom's side, stretching your legs out next to his. this is always his favourite place to be — because he can have your words be all for his ears only.
but then he frowns when he sees your outfit — a shirt and a pair of shorts. he takes off his jacket and drapes it across your legs despite your protests.
"you should've worn something warmer," he frowns. you're never good with the cold, and you're not going to be comfortable with the way more than half the members need the air conditioning to be switched on at all times.
"i was almost ready to go to bed, kyeomie," you explain, adjusting the jacket on yourself nonetheless. "i wouldn't be here if shua didn't call me. thank you, though. how was your day?"
dokyeom sighs. he doesn't want to talk about his day when he's been living through it for the entirety of...well, the day, but he has to say something for you. "not...the best," he concedes, resting his head on your shoulder.
"do you want to go home soon?" you ask, your hand finding his, tracing random patterns on his skin. the tingles help ground him.
he shrugs. "i don't know."
it's true, as much as he hates it. he doesn't want to leave because it'll end up breaking up the party — it always so happens that the first person to leave is the catalyst for most others to start wrapping things up, unwittingly. he doesn't want to be a party pooper, but at the same time, he's had a long day. it's like he's been aware of every single second he's been awake, and it's exhausting.
"okay," you say simply. "let's stay for a while more. it's not like we're in a rush. and i know how hard you worked today."
dokyeom closes his eyes at that. he knows he's done well, today being one of those days where he's genuinely looking for the end, but hearing it from you makes it much better. "yeah?"
"yeah," you affirm, hand rising to comb gently through his hair again, left open now that he's discarded his beanie. "i love you, kyeom. so much. it's still hard to put it into words sometimes."
he snuggles a bit more into you at that, slightly satisfied when seungkwan chucks a piece of popcorn at him from the bed, telling you both to stop being so cheesy. he feels even better when you throw it back at seungkwan, letting out a triumphant ha! when it hits him on the knee.
he loves you.
there's no bottom to that endless truth. he's somewhat loved you ever since he first saw you, drawn to the way your sense of humour was so close to his, and the somewhat turned into a definitely the more he got to know you.
dokyeom isn't half of anything — he's all of himself, lee seokmin, content with the way he is except for a few gripes here and there, but you complete him in a way he didn't know any person could.
he's not worried about you leaving him — there's no way either of you are letting that happen. it's more about not knowing who he is without you, now that your lives are so intertwined.
"stop," you mumble, your grip on his hair tightening slightly.
"stop what?"
"thinking. about whatever you are. i told you i love you and i'm not going anywhere."
the haze he's in almost clears a bit at that. "how did you— i didn't—"
"you always get so pensive when you're tired, did you know? i should record you some time. it's like there's a philosopher hidden inside you."
pensive? when he's tired?
"i love you normally," he blurts out, scared at the insinuation that he thinks about how much you mean to him only when he's vulnerable like this.
you're not saying anything back, though. you're just smiling at him.
"what," he asks, breaths a bit shallow.
"i know," you press, hand lifting his to show the ring that sits on his fourth finger. "i love you normally, too."
dokyeom lets out a chuckle. he still can't believe it's possible to love someone this much.
"now let me get you home and help you get some sleep, okay?" you ask, punctuating your question with a tug to his chin. "the others will understand."
as if you have to ask him. he'll go wherever you take him, no questions asked.
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joshua can see the change in dokyeom's eyes the moment you walk into the room.
the conversation doesn't stop; mingyu and jun are still arguing about how mingyu should stop taking inspiration from jeonghan when it comes to board games and cheating. jeonghan has a proud smile on his face. wonwoo and minghao have zoned out entirely, too busy with their phones to acknowledge the little fight going on. the others are busy eating or ordering more food or arguing about which movie to watch next.
there's just one person missing from the chaos.
dokyeom's sitting on the floor under the window, entirely in his own world, constantly checking his phone and looking at the door, shutting his eyes for a minute before repeating his actions.
joshua would've poked fun at him if he didn't know how tired dokyeom already was today. a particularly tiring day, especially with a comeback practice they'd just gotten back from, and a going seventeen shoot in which dokyeom had been on the losing team. even though he doesn't like to show it, joshua knows dokyeom is somewhat upset over not winning.
but the moment you walk into the room, it's like a switch has been flipped. dokyeom sits up straighter, the neutral expression on his face morphing into a tired but real smile. he holds his hands out to you and pouts when you stop to greet all the other members first, shaking hands with them or giving them a quick side hug.
joshua pulls you close with ease. "thanks for making it here on such short notice."
"are you seriously thanking me for that?"
"i mean...he really needs to see you. today hasn't been his day."
you look over at your husband for a moment. "i could tell. his texts were pretty dry."
"right? now go get your lover boy. he's been moping all evening long."
you wrinkle your nose at the term, just like he expected you to, but you nod and make your way to dokyeom.
joshua turns away when dokyeom gives you a dopey, lovesick grin. he'll let the teasing go for tonight.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months
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Let's Talk About That Chapter 1
Psychiatrist!Avenger!Fem!Reader × Wanda Maximoff
Summary: You are the young psychiatrist for the Avengers, and you take your job very seriously, but what happens when Wanda joins the team, turning your life upside down?
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: legal age gap r is 19 w is 25, talks of death and grief, a bit of angst, therapy sessions
A/N: I had this idea for a while and wrote it a while ago, but spruced it up for publishing. I hope you enjoy it!
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May 7th-10th 2015
The only sounds to be heard were the scratches of your pen against paper as you wrote down notes the old fashioned way and the hum of the AC unit installed in your office. Tony let you have a nice corner of the tower where there was sunlight and windows. You had gone with a soft gray for the walls, an L-shaped mahogany desk that had both a desktop computer and your laptop. Across from your desk was two couches and a coffee table between them with an assortment of fidget toys, a succulent, a handful of magazines, and a box of tissues. 
Everyone had been away on an important mission and normally you’d go with, but you'd been recovering from a previous injury, you still are when you hear a knock on your door, 
"Open." You let them know and just from their aura you can tell it's Tasha, but she's with someone else, an aura you don't recognize. You look up to find a girl with chestnut colored hair, and a dark aura around her. "Hey Tash. I'm glad you're all home safe. I'm assuming we'll restart our sessions?" You ask the red head. 
"Yes. We can resume them. Tomorrow. Today I need you to have a talk with this one." Tasha helps her into the room and gestures for her to sit down, Tasha walks over and hands you a large file. "She came from HYDRA, they had a lot of info on her, she had joined us in the fight against Ultron." Tasha tells you before lowering her voice, "She lost her twin brother during the battle. So maybe you can get her to talk." You smile at Tasha and then look past the red head. 
"Yeah of course we shouldn't have any issues Tash. Leave it to me." You tell her as I adjust your glasses, quickly looking over her file as Tasha exits, closing the door behind her, "Wanda Maximoff, 25, born in Sokovia." You say out loud as you walk around your desk to the other couch across from where she's sitting criss-cross. You take notice she's taken her shoes off and smile, taking note of the fact that she’s comfortable enough to do something like that. "I'm Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I'm 19. I'm also an Avenger. I have a power that allows me to see auras and emotions. I can also influence people's emotions and use my voice to influence others around me." You tell her a little about yourself first to help make her comfortable with talking about herself.
"You're 19? How are you a doctor?" She finally talks and you can hear her thick Sokovian accent which is like music to your ears. 
"I'm very smart. Graduated high school at 12 finished my Doctorate last year for psychiatry and Tony took me in as the Avengers Psychiatrist shortly after that. Everyone here needs a little bit of help and that is what I'm here to provide for you." You smile at her as you open a fresh notebook for her, choosing a red covered one noticing that she was wearing Tasha’s red leather jacket. "So tell me a little about yourself. Anything you want." You ask as you jot down her basic info on the first page. 
"I love American sitcoms." she tells you first. You smile and look at her over your glasses. 
"Why is that?" You ask as you jot down her words. 
"We used to watch them as a family every night so we could learn English." She tells you making a smile appear on your face. 
"When you say we who does that entail?" You question the Sokovian wanting to get to the root of her problems. 
"My Mama, Papa, and Pietro..." She tells you solemnly. 
"Who is Pietro?" You inquire, looking up from your notebook. 
"He is...was...my twin brother." You jot down everything she says during your session and she does open up a little bit with some persuasion on your part, but that isn't unusual for your sessions. 
"Well Wanda thank you for opening up to me. Your aura is looking a little warmer from when you first walked in. How about you come back in three days for another session?" You tilt your head as you grab a little card for her. 
"Why three days?" She asks nervously, tugging at her sleeves attempting to cover her hands, but the jacket doesn't budge. She starts picking at her nails as an alternative, chipping the black nail polish further. 
"I like to have frequent sessions the first month. Then we'll have them weekly just like the others." You let her know and she nods her head as you write the date and time for her to show up on the card for three days from now. Standing up with her, "I offer a high fives, hand shakes, fist bumps, or a hug at the end of sessions. Which would you like?" You ask and she's thrown off a bit by the statement at first but then answers. 
"Hug. I could use a hug right now." You open up your arms and let her come to you. She ends up crying in your arms as you sooth her, letting her know it is okay to cry. 
"I'll always be here for you Wanda. I'm always on your side." You whisper to her and she holds you tighter at the words.
You sat back down at your desk after Wanda left, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Empathy for Wanda's pain, determination to help her heal, and a lingering sense of dread about what HYDRA had done to her. But you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the task at hand.
As the Avengers' psychiatrist, it was your responsibility to help your teammates navigate the mental and emotional toll of their work. Sometimes that meant delving into painful memories or difficult emotions, but it was a role you took on willingly. After all, you had your own share of struggles, and if you could use your powers to help others, then it was worth it.
You glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for lunch. You decided to take a break and head to the common area, where you found Tony tinkering with one of his suits.
"Hey, Y/N," he greeted you with a grin. "How's it going?"
"Good," you replied, sinking into a nearby chair. "Just had a session with Wanda. She's been through a lot."
Tony nodded solemnly. "Yeah, losing her brother and all that HYDRA stuff... it's rough."
You sighed, running a hand through your Y/H/C hair. "Yeah, but she's strong. I think she'll come through it."
Tony gave you a reassuring smile before returning to his work, and you took a moment to appreciate the camaraderie of the team. Despite your differences and the challenges you guys faced, you were a family, bound together by our shared experiences and our commitment to protecting the world.
After a quick lunch, you headed back to your office to prepare for your next session. As you reviewed your notes from Wanda's session, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her story, something hidden beneath the surface. But for now, all you could do was continue to offer her support and hope that she would find the strength to confront her demons and emerge stronger on the other side.
With that thought in mind, you square your shoulders and prepare to face whatever challenges lay ahead. As an Avenger, a psychiatrist, and a friend, you were ready to do whatever it took to help your teammates and protect the world from whatever threats may come our way.
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Three days passed in a blur of meetings, training sessions, and the occasional emergency mission. But today, you were back in your office, eagerly awaiting Wanda's return for your second session. As you sat at your desk, reviewing your notes from your previous meeting, you couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for her. Losing a loved one in battle was something you could relate to all too well.
Before you could dwell too much on your own past, there was a soft knock on your door, and Wanda stepped into the room. Her aura seemed a bit brighter today, though still tinged with sadness. "Hey, Wanda," you greeted her with a warm smile, motioning for her to take a seat. "How are you feeling today?"
Wanda hesitated for a moment before answering, "Better, I think. Thank you for... everything last time."
You nodded, understandingly. "Of course. It's what I'm here for." You gestured toward the notebook on the table. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"
For the next hour, the two of you delved deeper into Wanda's past, her memories of Sokovia, her time with HYDRA, and her experiences with her brother, Pietro. With each word she spoke, you could feel her emotions swirling around you, and you did your best to guide her through them, offering comfort and support where you could.
As your session came to a close, Wanda seemed visibly lighter, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, wiping away a stray tear. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."
You smiled back, feeling a sense of fulfillment wash over you. "Anytime, Wanda. Remember, I'm always here for you."
Before she left, Wanda surprises you by reaching out and giving you a tight hug. "Thank you," she repeated, her voice thick with emotion.
As you watched her leave your office, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to help someone in need, to make a difference in their life, even if it was just one session at a time. And as you glanced down at the Power Stone embedded in your chest, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps this was the true source of your ability to connect with others on such a deep level. But for now, all that mattered was that you were making a difference, one session at a time.
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ladyquietus · 11 months
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watching Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and knowing Hobie Brown has gotten me feral. Could not stop thinking about being that man’s lover and oh the things he could do. Jesus.
Getting Real
Hobie Brown x Fem y/n: Smut Read
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© ladyquietus
AN: a bit older y/n from another dimension, some smut, fluff, cussing, nicknames, semi age gap, the works.
W: I apologize if I’ve made any mistakes, English is not my first language.
Minors, ageless blogs do NOT interact.
>> Long read ahead
“Oh, I bet you think your honey taste like sugar. But honey, sugar don’t taste that bitter~ Baby, you ain’t sweet. Look at what you did to me~…” y/n sings to the lyrics, tapping her foot on the floor. The music blaring from her headphones, getting distracted from doing homework infront of her.
She adjusted the frames of her glasses, licking her lips and continued humming to the tone. Failing to notice the flashes of bright, sharp lights beaming through the bedroom window behind her.
It was heavily pouring outside, the shut window slowly rutted opened. Slim fingers appeared on the frame, pulling a bit more force Til the figure could come through the window.
The masked vigilante made his way inside, patting off droplets of rain. He took off his mask, letting his full blown hair pop up.
He smirked at the sight of y/n, sitting infront of her desk, Clueless about this presence. The music she was listening and the loudness of the rain made y/n unaware of Hobie approaching her.
Hobie posed finger gun on his right hand, pressing the tips of his fingers on y/n’s upper back.
“Hands where I came see em’ lil’ lady” he jokes, feeling her tensed.
Y/n quickly pulled off her headphones and spun around, looking at a chuckling Hobie in disbelief.
“You ass,” she glared at him, pushing him off.
“You’re gonna get robbed easily love, I won’t be around you for that.” He holds his hands up in defense.
“Luckily, we’ve got another Spider-Man here huh, what’re you doing here anyways?” She questions, crossing her legs on the office chair she was sitting.
Hobie plopped down on her bed, wincing a bit when he noticed a small stain of blood on his shirt on the left side where his ribs lie.
“Shit.” He cussed, pulling off his leathered spiked jacket.
“What’s wrong?” Y/n stood up concerned, slowly made her way towards him and sat beside him.
“Just a graze, don’t worry. Must’ve gotten caught a crossfire between these crime families back home, what nasty lil’ shits.”
“And you didn’t feel that until now? You must’ve been in a load of adrenaline, It must be wearing off.” y/n sighs, kneeling down beside the bed and pulled out a storage box. She took out a first aid kit and sat back again beside Hobie.
“You’re cute when you’re concerned doll, it’s like you’re forgetting I have massive pain tolerance.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, feeling her worry for him a bit made his heart swell.
He always kept his heart up on his sleeve, meeting y/n months ago somehow changed that despite they’re still friends. He also knew that she was older than him, two years older in fact and it must’ve set her back.
They met when he and Gwen came to her dimension, looking for their villain of the week that somehow skipped across dimensions and landed on hers. She was a med student, walked in a parking lot alone at a convenience store. Not knowing she was being followed a creep whom Hobie took action on.
The rest was history.
“Putting your schooling in good use aye?” He jokes again, taking off his shirt after seeing her getting crossed.
Thou shall not poke a pissed off y/n.
“Glad you find this funny, what would happen if you got hit somewhere serious huh Hobie?” She clicked her tongue, throughly disinfecting his flesh wound.
“Relax, you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”
Hobie’s relentless teasing didn’t lighten the situation, it just made y/n worry more whenever he’s not around. She would never really know the next time he’ll come back.
He felt it, she was always the worrywart. Somehow he could read what was going on through her pretty little head.
“I’ll always come back to you, my love. So please stop worrying, I’m here with you right now and I promise you I’d want to go through everything for you.” His voice softens, his gaze never leaving hers.
He leaned just a bit closer, caught a whiff of her lavender shampoo and declared that it was his favorite scent.
“Hobs…” she quietly says, feeling the tension between them. Her eyes meeting his, couldn’t help but noticed he kept glancing on her lips.
“Mhm, yes mamas?” He couldn’t help but inch a bit closer, grazing his lip on hers.
Just a lil bit of tease.
The slight cold of his steel lip ring had made y/n’s skin crawl with goosebumps. His rough, firm hand radiated a lot of warmth on hers. Yet his thumb caressing the top of hers made something stir up inside her.
The new nickname he gave her wasn’t helping, she felt a bit guilty she wanted to hear it more from his lips.
He was waiting for her, he didn’t want to freak her out if he was too forward. But he was too damn excited, he’s been wanting to kiss her for a while now.
It was eating him up inside.
y/n closed the distance, letting her lips connected to his but it was only quick and subtle. She was nervous as hell, the last time she kissed someone was her ex-boyfriend a year ago.
“Babe that’s not enough, not enough at all.” His voice was heavy with need, in need of her.
Hobie raised his left hand, enclosing his slender fingers on her jawline. Grasping it softly and pulled her closer, wrapping his other hand around her waist to pull her on top of him.
Y/n squeaked In surprised, Instinctively holding on to his broad shoulders.
“Hobs-”
His lips immediately crashing to hers, he loved how soft it felt and the taste of earl grey tea still lingered on her tongue.
y/n moaned on his mouth, it was music to his ears and he wanted to listen to it more.
The kiss was sloppy, y/n was struggling to keep up. Her nails dug into his skin, making him grow excited beneath her. She surely felt it and subconsciously started to grind on it through his leathered pants.
“Mm mas, You’re making it hard to stop,” he says in between kisses.
She grew too fond of it, she didn’t care if her lips had start to swell or bruised. It was addicting to make out with Hobie Brown.
“Mmm,” were the only sounds she left out. Taking the lip ring between her teeth and pulled slowly.
Hobie’s grip on her waist and thighs got tighter when she did it, almost made him cum on that spot. He swore this woman was gonna be the death of him if she keeps it up.
y/n’s hands started to trail, from his shoulders to his chest. Feeling every detail of him, how warm he was despite the nonchalance he always gives off to most people.
She reached right above his pants, Hobie was sensitive to what she has touched.
y/n dragged a finger over the tent, her wetness grew at the feeling of how hard he was of her.
They both finally pulled away, heavy breathing. Hobie leaned against the headboard, still not loosening his vice on her as if she were to disappear any moment.
Looking at her all disheveled and swollen lips, her eyes kept screaming at him to just take her then and there.
“Love, I’d want you to shoot me in the head if I ever say no to you but have you even done it before? I wouldn’t want to rush you to something you’re not comfortable with.” He reassures in a soft voice despite his lustful gaze.
y/n couldn’t care less anymore, she had too much pent up frustration. She was still a virgin, the only farthest thing she had done with her ex was giving and receiving oral sex.
“Hobs, if you won’t fuck the living daylights out of me- I will be putting a lock on that window the minute you leave.” she huffs, palming his hardness.
“Damn mamas alright, I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckles, both of his hands crawling their way to her ass. A bit frustrated that she was still covered in shorts and a baggy shirt, it may look cute on her but Hobie preferred much that she wore close to nothing at all.
“Gonna need these off first,” he mumbles, burying his face on her neck, leaving lazy kisses and soft bites.
“Couldn’t agree more,” she replied, closing her eyes and biting her lip to moan out loud.
Hobie ripped out her shorts, tugging the cloths away and was surprised to feel her wearing a thong.
“Jesus, love.” He smiles against her neck, immediately groping her cheeks and slapping the right.
He pulled on her thong, making her wet slit grind against the thin fabric.
“Fuck, Hobs…”
“You’ve been wearing this kind of panties around me all this time?” Another slap on her right cheek.
“Mmm sometimes,” y/n started to enjoy this too much.
Another slap before his firm fingers started to spread her cheeks apart, groping and gripping them all around.
Without warning, Hobie pushed her over on her back. Making them switch sides. He was on top, wouldn’t even stop smiling at her.
“Do you know how many times I keep thinking about you being underneath me?” He caresses her cheek, placing a peck.
He lowered himself more, placing more and more small yet sweet kisses. Raising the disruptive shirt to her chest til her breasts were on full view to his pleasure.
Hobie already loves them, they were perfect to him. They weren’t too small nor too big, mouth started to salivate at the size of her areolas.
Letting one arm to support himself, he cupped one of her breast and kneed on the erected bud. Licking her lips for another neediness.
“Something tells me it’s gonna be more than once,” y/n managed to whimper out, Hobie taking the whole bud in his mouth.
His hand caresses it’s way to her swollen pussy lips, eating the thin line of cloth. He could feel how needy and wet she was for him, and God she was soaked.
She squirmed, bucking her hips for more of his fingers. Meanwhile, Hobie’s mouth was occupied- switching between one tit to another.
His fingers itched to plunge deep inside her ache, he pulled the thong to the side and started rubbing her clit.
“Hobs… fuck, that feels good,” she mewed, kept on squirming.
Hobie hummed in pleasure, feeling her wither from his touch made him smirk.
Y/n’s body jerked when she felt a sharp and pleasurable pain when Hobie softly hit one of her nipples.
“Hobie!” He chuckles, licking the aching nub soothingly.
“If you’ll let me mas, I need to taste you. Need to fill my hunger for you right now.” He left her chest, licking and biting his way down to her abdomen. Leaving so much marks, he’s gotten too proud and wanted to mark her more.
She couldn’t say anything but whimpers. She nodded her head in response, but this only wanted Hobie to tease her more.
Without warning, both of his fingers plunged inside her. Feeling the walls tightening around him, it was so warm- he started imagining how amazing it must feel if it were his cock.
“Use your big girl words, love.” He curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made y/n grip her hands all over his body.
“Hobs- eat me out please,”
Hobie didn’t waste any time, he’d gotten too needy- placing his lips on her sex. It reeked of desperation.
Both his left hand and mouth enjoyed giving y/n too much pleasure, His right gripping on her inner thigh to keep her open for him. Y/n still kept on squirming, her legs begging to close in on his head.
It was too much.
She bit her bottom lip too hard, she swore she was already seeing stars as Hobie kept on abusing her pussy with the combo. She couldn’t help but let her moans out, a few cusses and whimpers of “Hobs” kept escaping from her mouth.
She felt this wave, this urge for release.
“Wait Hobs- Hobie! I’m gonna pee- stop,” she started to pull away, gripping on the sheets as if it were to help her.
Hobie didn’t say anything but looked at her, meeting her eyes but didn’t stop. He went faster, flicking his tongue all over her wet sex and fucking it with his fingers.
“Hobi- Hobie,” she couldn’t escape, Hobie kept on pulling her back. The more she struggled- the closer the release.
“Hobie” her toes curled, letting the wave overcome her.
It came in spurs, she started squirting all over his mouth and face. Hobie immediately started lapping her up, trying to drink every little drop.
That’s a first, even my ex wasn’t able to do that with me. Her chest was heaving, thighs still trembling from the aftermath.
“If I knew you tasted this good, I would’ve done this sooner.” He smiles, giving her pussy one last kiss before kissing her lips a few times.
“Mmm- sorry, I made a mess on your face,” she breathes out, pussy still sensitive as Hobie’s huge girth was pressing against it.
Hobie unzipped his pants, quickly taking it off and freed his aching cock from his boxers.
“You’re gonna have to make another mess, mas. Whole lot more,” grinding the tip at her wetness, giving special attention to her swollen clit.
“Hobie… I just came,” she glanced nervously at his size, it was a good guess of 6-7 inches with a bit of a wide veiny girth.
“Better then, I’ll take care of you darling. Don’t worry, you’ll be wanting it more soon,” Hobie slowly pressed on his hips, the tip slowly making its way inside her folds.
As he leisurely pressed it inside, she could feel him stretching her out. Her walls adjusting to his size, but surprisingly she only felt a scale of 5/10 pain.
“You okay, my love?” Hobie asks, each of his hands holding her hands down. Kissing her cheek and neck to reassure her.
“Mhm, just keep going. Is it even fully in yet?” She groaned.
“Not even close, but fuck I’m only half way through- the tip’s kissing your cervix already.” He laughs a bit, then groaned at she kept gripping around him.
The pain started to retreat, and all she could feel how full she was of him, and he was right- she could feel his hard tip pressing on the entrance of her cervix.
“Hobie, move. Please.” She begged, looking at his pained expression.
“Mmm, love. You’re still adjusting,” Hobie groaned, hearing her say those words almost made him pound into her to oblivion.
“Please Hobs, start fucking me. I won’t say it again.” She says sternly, something inside her grew excited. Her nervousness soon started to diminish and was replaced with yearning.
He looked down on her, wringing her wrists together above her head and slinging his web- bounding them together.
“As you wish.”
He placed one of his hands under her ass, pulling her up a bit and started to pull his length out before plunging it back in her.
Y/n’s bound hands immediately placed themselves at the back of his neck. It was a slow pounding but she was hitting it too deep, the tip pounding her cervix at every thrust.
The squelching noise that both of their sexes made overwhelmed their senses, their animalistic groans filled the room. Both couldn’t care less if their neighbors could hear them fucking away.
Their sweats began to mix, everything what they’re doing made them intertwine with one another. Y/n’s wetness was already covering Hobie’s cock, pummeling her has gotten easier and more of his length disappeared in her.
“Shit, mas, Your pussy’s swallowing me. I can’t stop.” Hobie gritted his teeth, being inside her made him addicted.
She felt that familiar urge again, but it was stronger. Hobie’s merciless pummeling edged her closer.
“Hobs,” she whimpered.
“I know, I know love. Cum all over me, make a mess.” He connected his lips to hers, muffling her loud moans as she let herself succumbed to his commands. Her whole body bucked and quiver against his.
Hobie hissed, sensed he was nearing to his end. But he wanted to finish feeling all of her crumbling first, then pulled out. Just barely, spurs of his hot cum landed on her stomach.
It took them a moment, giving them both time to come back to the real world.
Hobie plopped himself on top of her, she didn’t mind the weight. It was rather comforting, feeling him against her.
Hobie placed himself beside her on the bed, pulling her in- not caring they were both buck naked. Ripping off the web on her knotted hands.
She snuggled closer to him, knowing there was no turning back after what they’ve done.
“I know I’ve said I don’t believe in labels and consistency but, I’d prefer to make an exception for you, my love. Only you. I want this to be real for us,” Hobie broke the silence, playing with the strands of her hair and caressing her back.
“You better keep your word, Hobs. I have liked you for quite some time now.” Y/n started to trace her fingers on his chest, savoring each moment they have.
“I think we’ve gone way past using “like” love, doesn’t really match the way you’ve been needing me earlier.” He teases, groping an ass cheek.
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asmosmainhoe · 5 months
Text
Mammon, Asmo & MC sneak Diavolo out for the night
This is looooong, but I had SO MUCH fun writing it
Mammon Asmodeus Diavolo Barbatos Lucifer
Gender: neutral
Warnings: heavy language, alcohol consume
Actually the plan was for only you, Asmo and Mammon to go out tonight, but you invited Diavolo to join you guys. It's because when you told him about it he got so excited for you three in a way that made you sad which lead you to what you did
You send Diavolo a quick text that the small group is coming over to his castle for some "tea" in his private chambers
Asmo packed some stuff like makeup, accessories etc for everyone to get ready at the castle. Since it's a lot to carry you and Mammon put some in your own bags after Asmo threatened you to take good care of his stuff
Everyone starts getting ready after successfully getting past Barbatos who found it more than odd that the tea would be served in the Lord's bedroom instead of in one of the usual rooms, but oh well. Diavolo is known for doing strange things from time to time
"I'm done!"
"Uh..."
"Lord Diavolo..."
"No you're not done."
The demon prince is standing there in full royal attire. You, Mammon and Asmo aren't sure where exactly to start the list of things that are wrong about his appearance
"Everyone will recognize you like this, Dia. Don't you have anything that screams less royalty?"
"What do you mean? This is my most casual outfit."
"Oh hell no."
Asmo gets immediately to work by removing the jacket and tie and continues his work by unbottoning Diavolo's black dress shirt
"What are ya doing, Asmo?! You can't undress Lord Diavolo like that!"
"Calm down! As much as I'd love to do that, I'm only opening up the dress shirt a little bit. See? It looks way more casual like this."
The beautiful demon managed to change Diavolo's entire presence with only a couple small adjustments, but there is still a tiny problem
"How do we cover his face?"
Again Asmo comes to the rescue! Without any hesitation he combs the Lord's hair back to expose his entire face and puts a very real looking fake mustache over the top lip
Wait what?
"Why do you own that, Asmo?"
"And why did ya bring it with you?"
"Instead of questioning me you should be thankful that I have this thing in the first place!"
Diavolo looks nearly unrecognizable unless someone would stare at him real intense
Even if you might not be a big fan of mustaches you have to admit that he kinda looks attractive that way. Mammon finishes the look by handing the Lord his sun glasses
"Are we all feeling sexy?"
"Yes!"
"Perfect! Let's go!"
Who knew that climbing down a balcony located on the highest floor of a castle could proof to be so difficult? Especially when one is all dressed up!
The first destination is a restaurant where you lay out your plans for the night to Diavolo and have a quick meal before the fun starts
Throughout the entire time the demon prince looks as excited as a child who's allowed to stay up longer than usually
"And you really don't mind the risk that comes with it?"
"Oh I'm not worried at all! Asmodeus did such an amazing job that I didn't even recognize myself in the mirror!"
"I made reservations for a small VIP area at the club. It's nothing too fancy so we won't attract much attention, but it's enough to give us some peace."
Mammon and Asmo exchange disappointed looks with each other when you mentioned the part about not attracting attention, but they're staying quiet
"Thank you so much for letting me be a part of this. It's my first time going out like this and you have no idea how grateful I am for you three to risk your lives like this."
"No problem Lord Dia- wait what was that with riskin' our lives?"
"Oh, you know in case Lucifer or Barbatos find out about it."
The tension in the air is so thick it could be cut with scissors. None of you have even thought about the obvious possibility of the first born or the royal butler to find out about your doing. Now that Diavolo mentioned it this might as well be the last night you three are alive
If Diavolo catches onto the fear building up inside you guys then he sure as fuck doesn't seem to mind. Instead he's digging into his meal with a wide grin while your appetite has vanished into thin air
After the awkward last supper you slowly make your way to the club and with some light hearted conversations the worries quickly fade away and get replaced by a more relaxing mood
The demon at the entrance let's you pass almost immediately upon hearing your name
"Before you four enter the area, can I get the names of your friends first? We've had some issues lately and need them for security reasons."
"I'm the great Mammon, this is my brother Asmodeus and this is our...uhm...Stephen."
"Your Stephen?"
"...yes."
Much to your relief the demon doesn't question you any further and let's you in, but not without giving you all a skeptical side-eye
"Shit, Mammon, was that seriously the best you could come up with?"
"You could have taken over if you wanted to, ya know!"
"I'm Stephen."
Once your group falls down onto a couch in a more secluded area you start to think about what to drink
"They have a Merlot! I might take that."
"No, we're doin' shots tonight!"
The two boys stopped addressing Diavolo with his title a while ago and he looks anything except bothered by it. In fact his grin has gotten even bigger over time and you notice how much more comfortable everyone is now than at the beginning of the night
Everyone is having a great time and everything seems to go smoothly even though you lost count of the amount of drinks your small group has ordered
Until your D.D.D. lights up from a call
"Guys, it's Lucifer."
"Don't answer! We texted him that we're sleepin' over at Diavolo's so if you don't answer then he might think we're asleep!"
"My name is Stephen."
Drunk Mammon is surprisingly reasonable so you decide to go with his suggestion and ignore the call
Just as your anxiety retreats Asmo gets a call from the first born as well. That can't possibly be a coincidence right?
You all receive at least one call that none of you answers. After a while there's nothing happening and you're starting to imagine Lucifer bursting through the ceiling to give you the beating of a lifetime
But your phones stay silent and you collectively let out a sigh
"We're safe."
But then your D.D.D. lights up again from something far greater than the threatening call of Lucifer. It's a message
"Where are you?"
Your mouth dries out completely and you're unable to form a coherent thought. Mammon takes the phone from your hands to see what got you so petrified just to turn into a living statue as well
One by one you all freeze. Luicfer is easy to avoid and it wouldn't be the first time you become the target of his wrath, but angering Barbatos is a whole other story
If the royal butler comes for you then all that's left to do is lay down and pray that he'll have the mercy to make your death go by fast
"You have to answer him, MC."
You're simply texting him that you guys are on the way to the castle
This is where the fun ends. The walk home consists of Diavolo apologizing every five minutes and you telling him that it's not his fault. It was your idea after all and you'll be the one to take full responsibility
"Ya can't do that, MC!"
"Right! There's no way we will let you take the fall for us."
"No, I was the one who came up with this thing so I will be the one to take the hit. Besides, Lucifer and Barbatos are going to go easier on me than they will on you two."
The royal butler is awaiting you four at the entrance of the castle with a smile cold enough to freeze over the entirety of hell
No one dares to say a word as you enter and Barbatos lifts his hand when you open your mouth to say something
"I want you to know that I'm not mad."
Phew
"Just disappointed."
Oh
"Barbatos, you have to know that this is completely my fault. Mammon and Asmo didn't have anything to do with it."
He ignores your words
"Lucifer asked me to send you back home. I brought it upon myself to pack your belongings so you don't have to stay longer than absolutely necessary."
This is the politest way someone has ever kicked you out, but it still hurt like shit
Diavolo puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes it lightly which provides you with a little bit of comfort. The kind smile on his face tells you that he will do his best to set this right for you and the brothers
You squeeze his hand back with your own and with your bags you, Mammon and Asmo leave for the house of lamentation where the upset first born awaits you
Lucifer's lips are a thin line and his eyebrow can't seem to stop twitching. Judging by the dark aura around him he's barely holding himself back from throwing every curse known to mankind at you
"I don't expect much from my brothers, but I do expect more from you, MC"
"We wanted to have fun!"
"By kidnapping the prince?"
"Lucifer, please-"
"Get out of my sight! All three of you! We'll continue this tomorrow morning before I can't control myself and rip you all to shreds."
BONUS:
(Group chat with you, Mammon, Asmo & Diavolo the next morning)
Diavolo: I'm sorry that you guys got in trouble. I'll try to sort this out as quickly as possible
Mammon: Can ya do it before Lucifer kills us?
Asmo: Yes, it would be much appreciated
MC: Either way, thank you for trying
Diavolo: It's the least I can do
Diavolo: And Asmodeus? What glue did you use for the fake beard?
Asmo: Why?
Diavolo: The mustache won't come off...
---
Masterlist
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lix-ables · 1 year
Text
⌗ rich boy things – hyunjin + car sex .
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🥡 smut includes, fem!reader, dry humping, hand jobs (while he’s on the phone with his father), mentions of ruined orgasms (because he absolutely loves teasing the shit out of you), lovesick + pussy drunk hyunjin, etc etc. word count: 971. (MINORS DNI.)
💌 note: its been a while but hihi, im back!! i was initially going to post something else??? but this has been in my drafts since april
©lix-ables 2022. consider leaving comments and feedbacks !! happy reading ‹33
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hyunjin was annoyingly pretty and he knew it, so sneaking around on the campus way past your curfew can be excused, right? 
here you were in his car’s passenger seat with your hand wrapped around his dick while he was on an important call. how did you know that? because he told you it was his father, and still your fingers played with the tip, your palm resting under your chin as you watch him shut his eyes. 
his other hand moves to wrap around the wrist that was currently busy, and he turns to look at you. “yes dad, i understand,” he sighs and replies. “no im not out racing. i’m with the boys. panting? have you thought maybe it's your hearing?” hyunjin clears his throat and shifts in his seat, making your hand fall on his thigh. but that gave you even more of a reason to stroke him instead of just touching him. a little teasing wouldn’t hurt no one. your thumb rubs circles on his tip before wrapping your whole hand around it, earning a small grunt from him.
“listen i need to go. they need my help with something. yes, i’ll call you tomorrow.” 
“you like what you see don’t you, darlin’?” hyunjin’s voice stops you from your task, and makes you look at him. he stares at you, smiling before setting his phone in his jacket pocket.
his hand finds your bare thigh and you curse yourself for wearing pj shorts while it was cold outside. “i thought i told you the call was important,” he mumbles, his fingers snaking all the way up to the hem of your shirt and tugging it toward him. “i want this off,” he nods at your shorts, and you bite your lip in frustration. “i thought we were here to talk,” a whimper leaves your throat when he pulls you to him. “we’re talking. this is good communication, don’t you think?” you let him pull you onto his lap, and you struggle out of your shorts in the process. “i was getting ready for bed, it’s way past curfew what if someone –” hyunjin presses a kiss to your lips, his hands wrapped around your waist and it just dawns to you, that his dick is still out, and is now between the two of you. “no one is going to come here, and you know that,” he smiles again, his finger twirling around a strand of hair that wasn’t held together by the band. 
you hum in response, the chill breeze making goosebumps form on your bare skin and you grind against hyunjin’s dick. you’re probably going to have to buy new underwear but fuck it. “this again? and you said you wanted to talk,” he smirks, tugging on the strand of hair in his hand, and his fingers find your shirt, pulling it up so he has more access. your hand wraps around his wrist when you feel him move your underwear aside, and he clicks his tongue. “baby, let me in hmmm? it’s not fair that only you get to do the teasing. it works both ways. besides, no one’s around so i could probably edge you say, four to five times? i’m sure you can take it yeah? because i sure as hell want to see that tight and pretty pussy of yours clenching around my fingers when i don’t let you come.” hyunjin tilts his head to look at you, he shifts the material a bit more before resting two fingers to your clit, and pinches it a little. your thighs shudder at the feeling and he leans back against the seat. “you’d beg me to let you come, but you won’t. you like it too much hmm?”
you nod and his hand reaches down and finds the adjustment lever at the side and moves the seat back a bit more, so there is space for both of you. “when i didn’t see you in class today, i thought something had happened,” he mumbles as he moves his free hand to stroke his dick, bringing it closer to your entrance. “i missed you today, doll.” hyunjin’s fingers work on rubbing random patterns to your clit and you feel yourself getting even wetter than you were ten minutes ago. 
“you were supposed to come pick me up, idiot,” you lean forward close to his ear and press a small kiss to his neck. your hands hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into the leather jacket that he was wearing before going back to grind against his dick. 
“just the tip, i swear,” he rests his head at the crook of your neck, his free hand now holding you close to him as you move faster against him. you’re breathing faster now and your fingers come to rub your clit, applying more friction. “baby, let me –” hyunjin swears, his hand shivering and you turn your head to the window – it’s drizzling. the sound of rain muffling out your moans and hyunjin’s swears as he manages to guide your hips toward him, his tip close to your pussy, before entering just a little. “that’s it baby, fuck.” 
his hands rest at your lower back, his fingers slowly pulling up your shirt from the back as you ride against him. you’re mumbling something about having a real talk after this, but all hyunjin can hear is your whines and whimpers as he pulls himself out just to replace his dick with his fingers. 
“you’re coming on my tongue and my dick once we get to your room,” he grunts, feeling your walls clench around his fingers. “not yet, darlin’. hold it for me.” with his fingers now buried inside you, and your body grinding up against his palm, hyunjin meant what he said. teasing works both ways.
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taglist: @hwajin @starlostseungmin @chrisbahng @niinjo @chvnnie @lixhues @joonszn @cherryhanji @blueberry-chan @dnadoublefelixx @ethereallino @stuckwithaphobiaa @chewryy @bangchanbabygirlx @zizis-world12 @aimeexx @whatudowhennooneseesyou @nightlychans @americanokisses @katieraven @comet-falls @hwan-g @svintsandghosts @idek-at-this-point-lol @es-kay-zee @writerracha @bbujiikseu @lethallyprotected @lino-jagiyaa
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letterstotheflre · 2 years
Text
𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐘𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 || 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍
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summary: in which you forget your wallet and offer eddie a quid pro quo. oh, look at you using big words! [eddie munson x bimbo!reader]
cw: smut || 18+ only [ft. oral sex (m receiver), cheating, outdoors sex, reader is dumb (obviously, so if that bothers you.. goodbye!]
a/n: i rewrote this entire thing 4 times 😃 i still don’t really like how some parts turned out but let’s pretend it’s because i’ve stared at it for hours on end and not bc it’s actually bad <3
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“That’d be 20,” Eddie says, sliding the bag of weed towards you over the wooden table.
You open your bag to look for your wallet only to not find it in its usual spot. You look inside the bigger compartment, ruffling through makeup bags, receipts and strawberry lollipops but come back empty handed. You look back at Eddie, offering him an anxious smile, “Just a sec.”
He nods and rests his forearms on the table, toying with the wristband of his watch while he watches you open all three of your makeup bags, the glass bottles and compact powders clinking against each other. 
His eyebrows raise at your mumbled curse. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. S’just…” you giggle nervously, twirling a strand of hair. “I forgot my wallet. Silly me.”
Eddie grimaces in pity. “Well that’s unfortunate, sweetheart, but you know what they say…” he takes back the plastic bag and dumps it into his toolbox, closing the lid sharply. He smiles sarcastically, “Flattery doesn’t pay the bills.”
Your shoulders drop as he stands up, but before he can put his leather jacket back on your face lights up, resembling a cartoon having an eureka moment. Or so Eddie thinks. “Wait! I could pay you some other way, if you want!”
“Cash only, you know the rules.” Your twinkling laughter lets him know he said something stupid, which coming from you should probably bruise his ego a little. “What?”
“That’s not what I meant, silly,” you chuckle, adjusting your position on the bench and leaning forward conspiratorially, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Eddie gulps as your eyes drag down his body to his groin then back up to his face. “I meant, I could do you a little favour.”
“A favour,” he repeats blankly. 
“Yeah, like a little– ugh, what’s the word?” You muse, your front teeth trapping your lower lip. Eddie has to admit that the way your brows furrow in concentration is adorable. “Oh, yeah, a little quid pro quo! I suck your cock, you give me the weed for free,” you sing-song, smiling at him. 
Eddie is many things. A freak, a nerd, an academic failure, a drug dealer. He is not dumb, though, even though the vast majority of Hawkins High would like to defer. So it’d be very dumb of him to turn down a blowjob offer from one of the prettiest girls in Hawkins. 
He’s seen you around town before, walking around with your short skirts and dresses and tight shirts, heeled mary janes that probably cost more than anything inside his trailer clicking against the pavement. You were one of the few people in Hawkins that didn’t cast him aside, in fact, you had always been kind to him whenever he got the courage to talk to you. 
Whether it was because you were simply too nice or because the fact that he was Eddie “the Freak” Munson just flew over your pretty little ditzy head, he’d never know. 
So sue him if he had a teeny tiny crush on the local airhead.
Then he remembers the hunk who usually had an arm wrapped around your waist. The meathead that would bump into his shoulder if they crossed paths. The jackass that would make your shoulders drop and a sad look cloud your face when he mocked you as you played around with the figurines on display in the comic shop he frequented. 
His mood sours.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” 
“Yeah, but he won’t mind. Half the weed is for him anyways.” You shrug, clearly unbothered. “Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t been sneaking around with like, half of his girl friends behind my back. At least I’m doing this as a favour to him.” 
Eddie’s eyes widen. “Shit, no way.” 
“Yeah, he must think I’m stupid or something. I mean, I’ve already found three different fake nails in his car. Do I look like the type of girl to wear black nail polish?” You tilt your head to the side, your shiny purple nails clicking on the table. Eddie shakes his head with a snort. “Exactly! So, are we gonna do this or not? I have a hair dresser’s appointment in like an hour.”
Eddie shifts in place, kicking some leaves up in the air. As much as this is a dream come true, he doesn’t wanna take advantage of your predicament. Hoping you don’t take it back, he asks, “You sure this is cool?” 
“Yeah, it’ll be fun!”
He wonders if your idea of fun is usually this fucked up but finds himself nodding in approval. “Yeah, sure. Fuck it.”
You clap your hands in excitement and stand up, your skirt flaring as you twirl around to walk to the opposite side of the bench. You stand in front of him, fingers linked together as you bounce on the balls of your feet. “So, like, do you wanna stand or sit down?”
Eddie stares at your glossy mouth as you talk, down to your low cut top that exposes the swells of your chest, and lower to your short skirt that will most likely rise up if the barest hint of a breeze passes you by. 
“I, uh, I think I’ll sit,” he says, lowering himself to the bench. He gulps when he’s face to face with your boobs, your nipples straining against your shirt.
Yeah, he thinks as his cock stirs awake, sitting down was the smartest choice. 
“Wait,” he grabs his jacket and dumps it in front of him. “For– for your knees. So the leaves don’t hurt you,” he explains when he sees the confused look on your face. 
Your heart swells inside your chest. You have to clutch it to make sure it doesn’t burst from the seams. “That’s so sweet!” you cry and give him a quick peck on the cheek before kneeling between his legs. 
You shuffle until you’re in a comfortable position, caressing his thighs gently when you’re done. “It’s super comfy, Eddie. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he exhales, watching in anticipation as you unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. He helps you out by raising his hips, pulling down his boxers himself just enough to get his cock out. 
Your mouth falls open. “Oh, wow.”
His cock isn’t even fully hard yet but it’s still an impressive sight, barely thicker than it’s longer and decorated with two cute veins on either side that lead to the pink tip. Your favourite colour. 
You reach forward to touch him but he shifts back awkwardly, shoulders drawn up. “Sorry about the mess,” he says, more pink coating his cheeks. If he keeps this up you’re going to fall in love. “I didn’t think I'd be getting blowed during a deal so, uh, y’know… housekeeping missed a week.”
He’s embarrassed, you realise, catching up to the misunderstanding. About his… pubic hair? You laugh internally, how dumb is this boy?
“I don’t care about that, dummy,” you keep stroking his inner thigh, now touching his skin. He’s so warm. 
Your honesty is so clear in your eyes that it helps him relax. Your hand hovers above his mound and only touches him when he nods shakily, petting it softly. Your eyes light up with happiness and god, Eddie loves that shine on you. “I think it’s super hot, actually. Kinda wish my boyfriend kept it like this.”
Eddie sighs as you litter warm kisses around the base. His dick twitches when your nose bumps against it. “He doesn’t?”
He doesn’t know why he asks, but he’s curious. So very curious to know what you see in that asshole, what it is exactly that Eddie’s missing. And maybe, just maybe, he feels a burst of proudness when you shake your head with a sad pout. 
Eddie: 1
Asshole boyfriend: 0
Your kisses move upwards, your lips pressing sweetly all around his cock and your tongue tracing the veins. Eddie is practically vibrating with anticipation, his hands hovering on either side of your head like he doesn’t know if he can touch you. 
“You can touch me, Eddie,” you mumble against his length, the vibrations sending a shiver down Eddie’s spine. “You can do whatever you want. Here–” 
He swallows down the whine of despair that threatens to come out of his throat when you pull away, has to bite his lip to stay quiet when you take off your top and your tits fall out.
You take his hands and press them to your chest. “Feel them,” you guide his fingers so he can squeeze them, letting out a breathy moan in response. Encouraged, Eddie does it again, this time by himself, and sneaks out of your hold to twist your nipples. “S-soft, aren’t they?”
“Fuckin’ perfect,” he corrects. 
You swallow harshly, the praise and Eddie’s eyes glued to your boobs creating a gentle warmth inside you. “I, uh, thought you might’ve wanted something pretty to look at. Trees can get a little boring. A-and you can use them as stress balls, too! Just anything y’want, really…” You shake your scattered head and grip him once more, Eddie cursing from your sudden movement. “I’m gonna suck you now, ‘kay?”
“Whenever you want, sweetheart.”
Something in the tone of his voice makes your thighs clench together. 
You purse your lips and dribble some spit onto the tip, spreading the rivulettes around with firm strokes. Eddie’s breathing hardens, and when you finally wrap the soft cushions of your mouth around the head and suckle on it like the lollipops you’re always munching on, it’s like he’s stopped breathing all together. 
“Shit,” he curses, the feel of your wet tongue swirling around turning his brain into mush. He can’t think straight, not when he looks down and sees you slobbering all over him, slurping loudly as your head bobs up and down enthusiastically.  
“Holy fuck, that feels so good.” You’re fighting back your gag reflex, he can feel it– your throat contracting around him as you try your best to fight off the urge to throw up, desperate to keep him snug inside your mouth. The spasms cause his head to fall back, the grip on your tits tightening until you’re whimpering. 
You’re a sputtering mess when you pull away, spit dripping down your chin and onto your chest, which is panting with the effort to relieve your burning lungs. You keep stroking him, though, your fist gliding with ease thanks to all the drool you left on him. 
“Look what you did to me,” Eddie says, eyes glued to the tip that oozes precum like a leaky faucet. You follow one of the pearly white drops on its path down to his balls and, never having been a wasteful person, lick it up. 
Eddie groans the feeling of your soft tongue kitten licking his heavy balls. “Do that again,” he begs, hands leaving your chest to keep you down where you are, pressing you against his base. You’re overwhelmed with all things Eddie: his scent, his taste, the sounds he makes as you plop both sacks into your mouth and suck them. 
Eddie slumps back against the table, the sharp edge digging itself into his back but he doesn’t care. He’s spewing curses and the sweetest sounds you have ever heard. “Oh god, you feel how full they are? How full of cum they are for you? Never got this fucking needy for anyone, I swear to fucking Ozzy or- shit, I don’t know. Feels like I’m gonna explode.” 
There aren’t many things that make you as wet as having a cock in your mouth and the evidence is clear in your panties, a string of slick stretching when you pull them to the side to play with your clit. You roll Eddie’s balls in your mouth, press two fingers into your dripping hole in search of relief. The reaction is immediate: a cute little mewl ripping from your chest thanks to the knowledge that your fingers are sticky with his cum and your spit.
You press your face further into his groin and sigh in pleasure, eyelashes fluttering as you pump and curl your fingers. With a kiss yo each of his balls, you lave your tongue on the underside of his cock, flicking the tip over his slit so you can embed his salty taste in your mouth.
“Oh shit, are you touching yourself?” His voice gets higher from the surprise and the arousal, something rabid growing in his stomach. He combs back your hair so he can see your eyes. “That’s– that’s so hot. You have no idea how fucking hot it is.”
He can’t look away from you. Wants to burn the image of your mouth stuffed full and your teary eyes and your lips stretched wide as you try to give him your best smile. Your nipples are grazing the rough fabric of his jeans, your tits bouncing up and down as you drool all over him.
He doesn’t think he can last much longer, not when you touch him so good and sound so pretty and he knows he’s the reason you’re so desperately fucking your own fingers. It’s then that the wet heat of your mouth envelops him again, your cheeks hollowing in a suction motion.
All hell breaks loose. 
He thinks he’s burning up, he has to be. His skin is hot and sweaty, his mind delirious and he can’t keep himself from spewing the first thoughts that come to mind. “I bet that little pussy is beautiful. Sweet too. It’s– It’s gotta be, with how fucking pretty you are. How sweet you always are to me. Always so nice to me, laughing at my awful jokes. Even if your idiotic boyfriend is around. Goddamit,” he clutches the bench beneath him, eyes screwed shut. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. Where- Where do you want it? In that tight throat, that pretty face? Anywhere, anywhere you want.”
You pull away with a lewd popping sound, Eddie’s eyes rolling back. “My face, please. Want you to make me pretty,” you say breathlessly. 
Your inner walls flutter at the sight of Eddie losing himself in his orgasm. He’s always been pretty but now, with his lips raw bitten, his hair a wild mess from running his hand through it, his face flushed and his shirt sticking to his sweaty chest? He’s beautiful, gorgeous, every synonym in the dictionary. 
You await with an open mouth and the second the first spurts of his cum hit your cheek, you’re cumming yourself, movements stuttering and thighs closing in on your wrist. Some of the spurts enter your mouth directly and you gulp them down without hesitation. Others drip down your forehead and cheekbones before they touch your parted lips, your tongue darting out to collect them. 
“Come here.” He grabs you by the back of your neck and leans forward to kiss, not even caring that you’re covered in him. His nose presses against your cheek as he swallows down your whiny moans, tasting himself on your tongue. 
He’ll blame the mushyness on his post-orgasmic bliss, not worried about anything when you’re switching his deep kisses for sweet little pecks that could make his knees buckle. 
“Oh!” you exclaim when you notice the clump of white on the tip of Eddie’s nose. You swipe it off with your thumb and lick it up, not even worrying about the state of your own. “So, uh, I read that cum is like this super amazing facial… maybe we could do it again sometime?”
Oh, bless your silly little heart.
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You were surprised to see several of your family members gathered around the doorway to your room as you came down the hall. They were talking in whispers, peering inside your space. You adjusted your pack over your shoulder and sidled up to them. “Uhhhhh, hi? Excuse me?” you asked, popping in and matching their hushed voices. “Why’re you all staring into my room?”
Carol grinned at you. “Oh. You’re home early,” she said, her eyebrows lifting. 
“Yeah, I am. What’s going on?”
Michonne simply jutted a finger in the direction of the interior of your room and you leaned around Tara to look. Daryl. Daryl was asleep on your bed. He was flopped right down on the comforter, hugging the pillow beneath him, completely passed out. 
Your heart fluttered and you felt your cheeks flush. “Why is he—?”
Carol caught your eyes and smiled, one of those knowing Carol smiles she was always doing. You gulped nervously and glanced back at him. He looked so genuinely peaceful and you didn’t think you’d seen him more comfortable in the entire time you’d known him. You felt your own tension melting away as you looked at how he had sunk into the soft folds of fabric. But why was he on your bed?
“How has he not woken up?” Tara asked. “He’s the lightest sleeper of all of us. We’ve been standing here for ten minutes talking.”
Michonne shook her head. “He’s out. I’ve never seen him so out.” She shot you a smirk that seemed to have some smug meaning behind it too and the heat in the apples of your cheeks grew.
“Maybe we should see how loud we can talk before he wakes up,” Tara snorted.
You rolled your eyes. “Alright... Leave him alone. He’s sleeping. Let the man catch some sleep for once in his life,” you said, nudging past them. “Go on. Shoo,” you waved them away. They scattered with quiet laughter and more obnoxious glances your way. You stepped over the threshold as softly as you could and set your pack down. You were slipping off your jacket when you heard the soft rustling of fabric behind you. Daryl was stirring. He shifted and stretched and then opened his eyes. Blinked. Once. Twice.
And then he realized you were there and he shot up so he was sitting on the center of the bed. “Uhh—h—hey,” he drawled. His entire face was red. “Yer back. Yer back way sooner than ya said ya would be. Uhh—Shit,” he growled. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, I wasn’t—I—fuck, I fell asleep. ‘M so sorry. I wasn’t plannin’ to sleep on yer bed. I just drifted off... I’ll go. ‘M sorry...” 
“Whoa, whoa,” you smiled. “Hey. It’s okay.” Daryl watched you looking at him good-naturedly. The knot in his stomach loosened slightly. “Honestly, I’m just glad to see you getting some sleep for once.”
Daryl rubbed a hand over his face and shook his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to. I just came up here to—uhh... for somethin’ else and I sat down on the bed and... must’a just dropped off...”
“It’s alright,” you reassured him. “What’d you come up for in the first place? Get what you needed?”
His entire face flushed crimson again. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah... I did.” He ducked his gaze and avoided your striking eyes.
“Good. What was it anyway?” you asked, bending to unload gear from your pack. 
The air was suddenly charged with electricity. When there was a long silence and no response you looked up to see Daryl frozen there, all of him still as stone, except for his hands which were fiddling anxiously. “Uhh—”
You gave him a questioning look.
He gulped. “Well, ya were gone and... I missed ya, so I came up here. Felt—felt like bein’ closer to ya, I guess.” 
Daryl watched understanding suddenly dawn on your face. Your expression softened into gentle surprise, your lips forming an ‘oh’ although no sound left you for a long moment. You bit your bottom lip and considered him softly. “Well... I’m back. But don’t get up on my account. If this is where you managed to get some sleep, by all means...” You smiled at him warmly. “But you’re gonna have to scoot over. Just a little bit.”
Daryl gulped. Were you serious? ...you looked serious. Your smile widened at his disbelief. 
“Are you going to scoot over or am I on the couch?” you joked.
Daryl moved to one edge of the bed and nearly lost it when he felt the bed dip down behind him as you settled in on the other side. “You don’t have to scoot over that much. You’re risking falling off,” you murmured to him. 
He gathered his courage and then turned over to face you. “I should go,” he murmured, ducking your gaze again. 
“Daryl Dixon, if you leave right now, I will never forgive you,” you said. He saw jest in your eyes when he looked up again. “So, what was it that helped you sleep here? Just an extraordinarily comfortable bed?” Your voice was low and soft and Daryl felt goosebumps rising on his skin. 
“Sure,” he drawled sarcastically. “That and... smells like you up here.” That last part, he meant.
You blushed and then moved in toward him. “I missed you too.”
Prompt: “Leave him alone. He’s sleeping.” A/N: Oh, fuck me, this came out adorable af. 
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k0juki · 1 month
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mafia!Mick Schumacher
Mick Schumacher x fem!reader
Gn is alright too!
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Summary: Just few moments with Mafia!Mick Schumacher x fem!reader.
Warnings: sunburn, sassy reader, mentions of blood and dead body, fluff and teasing I guess? Not much of Mafia at all 💀
!english is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors!
Also picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!
Fem!reader would be working for him as his personal assistant. Fully knowing what he does for a living and her being alright with it because she gets paid well. She would be his right hand that always reminds him when he has an important meeting, bringing him drinks like tea or coffee when he doesn't go to sleep or when he's feeling cocky, he would tell her to choose the shirt she likes on him to just mess with her because he likes to see her face all red. You not wanting to look at him, feeling overwhelmed.
Mick would start to remove his black t-shirt and be like "Which one do you like more on me liebling?" All cocky with that pet name in German knowing it works on her. "The white button down shirt you ass." She would say not being scared at all, knowing that he would never hurt her for anything she says. Mick would just chuckle, throwing a smirk her way as she's leaving him to change his clothes. Feeling butterflies in stomach.
---
He would fall first, she would fall harder.
Fem!reader would be secretly loving Mick but being an ass to him because she's scared that if she opens to him, he would leave her, so it's better if she hurts him by saying all the mean things and acting like she doesn't care instead of her getting hurt, but it still be hurting her feelings.
But Mick knowing better, he would be so caring towards her, never forgetting her birthday and buying her a little cupcake with candle on it with colorful flowers that she loves, letting her borrow his jacket when it gets cold, giving anyone death stare the moment someone says anything disrespectful to her or just making her feel uncomfortable, always having an spare hair bands somewhere in his pocket or on his hand, like it's middle of the July and she was rushing to his office because for the first time she overslept in few years.
Coming to his office apologizing that she came later than usual, she would sit behind her desk that is opposite of his. Being all sweaty from the weather and forgetting her ice coffee on her way there she didn't have much luck.
Sanding from his desk and going right behind her, he would found one of the hair bands, taking strands of hair and began to make her a ponytail, "I can do it myself" she said as he gently, so as not to hurt her, he would run his hand through her soft hair that she washed before she went to bed last night.
"I know you can, but let me, '' Mick said as he adjusted the rubber band on her head, kissing the top of her head as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear that didn't want to stay in place. "Thank you Mick, you didn't have to " she said feeling all shy "You're welcome love."
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Mick is definitely a pet name king. Teasing you at any given moment. Not having peace even at your home when you came from the bathroom freshly shower, you hear your phone buzz and saw Mick's photo on your screen, so you pick it up thinking none of it and he would just start blabbing some nonsense to annoy you. "You know liebling, I really enjoy the mean facade you're trying to make." He said chuckling and anyone who would hear Mick right now, wouldn't say that he belongs to the mafia at all.
"You're seriously like a man-child" you said, now all annoyed. "Don't you want to go for coffee sometime?" huh? You thought "Bye Mick, call me when you need something important." Hanging up, you have to slow your breathing as you hold your phone closer to your chest now all frustrated.
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I think fem!reader wouldn't take him seriously at first. Just a pure assistant that does her job the best she can. Yes, time to time seeing a dead body, blood and everything like that, but she doesn't care enough for that. Sometimes she thinks he just wants to use her and then leave her. So she would be distant with him as much as possible those days.
He wouldn't like that. He can't be nothing but gentlemen around her. So he's always opening/holding doors for you. "After you liebling.”
And definitely would say some shit like "You're playing hard to get" whereupon you answered him "you're playing hard to get rid of". Both of you not meaning anything like that.
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Fem!reader would always deny him from buying her expensive things, but him being Mick Schumacher will always buy you anything and I mean anything you want. He would take you on his yacht when he takes something like a holiday or 3 weeks off and said that you have it as free time. With him.
There would be so much pda. A lot of it. Mick will definitely sit next to you and will lay his hand on your thigh when you are eating breakfast/dinner or any other food. "Is it good?" Mick asked as he looked at you, your mouth full of fruits. "It's delicious," you said, smiling at him.
---
Fem!reader forgetting to put sunscreen and getting sunburn. "What did I tell you, hm?" Mick said with a bit of a disappointed tone in his voice. "Come here liebling, you need to hydrate it." He said now softly, knowing that it must hurts you.
Lots of small touches that make goosebumps on your skin, when he puts his hand on your lower back and starts rubbing small circles there as you put your head on his shoulder, now finally being comfortable. Your eyes are heavy as you feel him kiss the top of your head.
Do not copy or translate my works!
It was supposed to be Kimi but somehow it ended up being Mick so... maybe Kimi is gonna be next?
🫠🩷
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knottyk · 2 years
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Golden Slumbers
Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader
Word count: 677
Summary: Eddie falls asleep on reader’s chest. 
Warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff
ps. I'm like 99% sure there aren't any pronouns used other than 'you' for the reader. pls let me know if i'm wrong.
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You sat against the headboard with a book in your hand. Deep within the pages, you were interrupted when Eddie let out a loud yawn, his eyes pooling with tears. The bags under his eyes were prominent as he slouched towards the bed.
“Tired?” You asked, putting your book down. 
He shook his head ‘no’ but you knew better. You opened your arms and waited.
He took off his denim vest along with the leather jacket and crawled his way to you. You spread your legs a little to make way for him. Like a well practiced routine, he nestled in the space you made for him. 
Eddie laid his head on your chest, his arms falling on your sides as you caress his hair and slid down to his ear. 
“You can sleep. We can work later.” Tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth as you keep your voice down. 
Your middle finger traced his outer ear and repeatedly went over his lobe, the piece of flesh plump and soft. You trailed up the curve of his ear and let the rest of your fingers run along his jaw with a feather like touch. 
He hummed as he nuzzled closer to you. He moved his body a little higher, just enough for your chin to rest on his head. You chuckled and Eddie warmed with the rumble in your chest, glad to be close to you.
Looking down at him, you admired each freckle and each wrinkle that reminded you of all the things he had to endure. His rough upbringing, fending off for himself and living the way he did. Having been exposed to things that he should have been unaware of at such a young age. You couldn’t imagine how he got through them all but you were glad that he did. 
Chest rising as you breathed in deep, you kissed his forehead. With a small curve on his lips as he adjusted his head further on the space between your chest. 
His hair was unkempt but soft as you run your hand over. Pushing his hair to the side, you scratch lightly at his back. Going in circles, from top to bottom, middle then all over. Figure eights. Alternating your index and middle fingers as if it’s a running figure. Long and short strokes, all done tenderly.
Soon, Eddie no longer held his weight for you. His head lolled to the side and you held him against your chest so he wouldn’t startle awake. You caressed him by the cheek as he fell deeper in his slumber. His cheek squished on your chest, lips slightly pouted and parted. You couldn’t hold back the giggle when you heard his soft purring as his chest steadily rose and fell.
You swipe your hands over his bangs, directing them to the side and holding them in place. With his forehead exposed, you extend your index finger and poke his puffy cheek. 
“Oh, Eddie.” You whisper as you take in the sight before you, quietly giggling to yourself. 
“You’ve got a lovely face, my good sir. Very cute.” You could imagine his response if he was awake. He’d pretend to be digusted and put on a serious, dead-pan face or he’d make a wacky expression. 
You let go when his eyelashes fluttered and his lids pressed tightly, brows scrunching a little. 
It could be a random dream. A nightmare? Whatever it was, you made sure it didn’t disrupt his peace. You whisper a soft tune against his ear, so soft and silent that some parts came out as a whistle. Thumb smoothed over his brows until he relaxed. You did it a couple more times until the distress is untraceable.
Two fingers brushed on his cheeks like he was a painting, using the pad of your fingers on the downstrokes and your nails upwards. His chest rumbled against yours and soon enough, you felt yourself being swept away.
Breathing in sync and bodies molding into one, you let yourself be carried to a peaceful slumber.
masterlist
lololol i suck at summaries and titles h3lp. anyway, I wish we could each have an eddie to cuddle with. aaand that’s my wish. oh and also world peace.
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