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#he did not appreciate all the soul bs
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i explained to my best friend the entire plot of the magisterium series today and he insists call is a terrible person who needs to be locked up and that celia is the only sane character
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bluekittyworld · 2 months
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There is Karma.
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Hello sweet people, this is my first time writing something, I hope you guys like it and all feedback will be appreciated.
Please don't post my work on other sites/platforms or copy it, or translate it, thank you.
Approx. 11,000 words in total and 5 chapters
Warnings: Lot's of angst, mention of suicide, smut, 18+
Main Masterlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Happy Ending
Sad Ending
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There is karma. It comes back, don’t use your heart in a bad way.
You were part of the popular girls at school, a rich spoiled brat as one may put it. Grade As and Bs were natural to you, you wondered sometimes if you had put in the effort, you could have scored better than all the nerds in your class, but who needed that, you were busy being the popular and pretty rich ‘it’ girl, belittling the quiet and less popular ones. There was one boy in particular, his name was Yunki or Yoonji, something like that. He wore thick framed glasses; his skin was ghostly pale, and he had contrasting pitch black hair in bowl cut. You found him an easy target as he never spoke back, no matter how many times you tripped him over, shoved him around, broke his ugly glasses, he never said anything back.
Why did you hate him so much? He didn’t care about anyone, and you hated it so much, why didn’t he try to fit in? He dressed so poorly, everyone just assumed that he was in this school on a scholarship, there was no way he could afford the fees by the way he dressed. On the other hand, you had to become mean to fit in, every day you woke up hours earlier to complete your work, prepare your hair and makeup, you had to stay relevant, have everyone’s attention, keep the ‘it girl’ title, life was so hard. So, every time you saw the careless Yoongi living his simple easy life, it boiled your blood and what ticked you off even more is that he never retaliated, come to think of it you had never heard his voice, was he mute?
This carried on for 5 years until the day of your graduation, just before graduation, you and your friends mocked this boy wearing his skinny ripped jeans, a t-shirt, and a plaid shirt. At the time your high-school boyfriend joined in too, you decided to give him a matching ripped shirt, pulling out your scissors you made a few cuts in his shirt and his bag, your friends laughed and recorded the scene. Your best friend took a few of his books, and teared them up, nobody noticed how Yoongi was having a panic attack and was on the verge of tears. Your boyfriend took the scissors and started cutting the poor boy’s hair, you did think it was pushing it too far, but nobody else seemed to care, why should you care right? Your boyfriend’s mates started kicking and punching Yoongi, he was now covered in blood and bruises, his eyes piecing into your soul, while he was being beaten up, his eyes were still fixated on you. You noticed this and felt a little bit of guilt, you pulled your boyfriend and asked to go to your favourite Korean BBQ. All your friends and his friends discarded Yoongi, leaving him in the middle of the school grounds, you didn’t even bother to look back if he was still breathing or not, nobody did.
On graduation day, Yoongi didn’t turn up, not like you really cared, you just wondered if he was okay, maybe you did go a little too far the other day. Also, it would have been a great opportunity to see his parents and assess his wealth today. Soon your friends and boyfriend came over to you, and that was the last time you thought of Yoongi.
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Years had passed since graduation. You were well set into your father’s business, ready to take senior management positions, being born into an affluent family had its perks, your whole life was served on a silver platter, not a single day of difficulty. Life was monotonic and predictable you began to feel a growing sense of emptiness. Despite the success you achieved in your career and social life, there was an underlying dissatisfaction, a void you couldn't fill. A friend of yours suggested maybe participating in charity events may give you a sense of fulfilment, so you decided to join the next available event.
At this event, everyone was put into groups of 4, and the tasks varied, you were in a team with two boys and another girl. The aim was to visit the elderly and help them out with their chores for today. The drive to the house was quite quick, you didn’t really get to talk to your teammates, the only thing you knew were their names, Sora, Yeonjun and Yoongi. Yoongi rang a bell, but you couldn’t really remember if you ever knew a person with that name, maybe it was just a name of one of the many people you see every day at work, you brushed it off. 
Upon arriving at the house, you saw it was occupied by an old lady, the roofing had some issues and the wallpaper had been peeling off in various places. Yoongi took lead of the team, he suggested “Yeonjun and I will take the duty of fixing the ceiling, while you girls can start by removing the wallpaper.”
His voice was like a gentle breeze on a calm summer day, carrying warmth and serenity, you hadn’t heard such a caring voice in a very long time, even your own mother didn’t sound so affectionate.
You just nodded, while Sora nudged you, maybe you were looking at Yoongi for too long, he was looking back at you with his piercing dark eyes.
“The wallpaper removing machine is in the back of the car, let’s go get it” Sora mentioned.
You nodded and followed her along. Removing the wallpaper wasn’t hard at all, you and Sora had bonded quite well, it was interesting to find out about her, you learnt she ran a café nearby and had a fiancé, her parents currently live in Japan, and she has a poodle dog named Bobbi. You loved this kind of interaction; it was like a breath of fresh air being away from your routine life and interacting with people who didn’t have money on their minds 24/7. You glanced over to Yoongi’s direction now and then… there was a certain attraction you developed towards him, but you turned away each time in disappointment, him and Yeonjun were really focused on getting the ceiling fixed and didn’t really have time for other things. You really wanted to talk to Yoongi more and find out about him, maybe you wouldn’t get another chance and that really bothered you.
You and Sora were done removing the wallpaper, and the ceiling was still being plastered. You suggested to Sora “We should paint this room before the old lady comes back, it shouldn’t take too long, what do you think?”
“Perfect” Sora chimed “Let’s go to the nearby DIY store and pick out a colour.”
Sora got up and walked over to Yeonjun, by the looks of it you assumed they knew each other well, maybe they volunteered together previously, she asked “Yeonjun, my dear cousin, can you drive us in your car to the DIY store?”
Oh, now it makes sense, they were cousins, you smiled at learning the fact, you somewhat wished you were close to your family members.
At the DIY store you and Sora decided on a dusty pink colour, it would contrast well with the plants the lady had in her house. Yeonjun waited in the car and you guys were soon back, he suggested to grab some food, and as if on cue your stomach rumbled.
“Yup, ____ is hungry, we should definitely get food” Sora giggled.
You just smiled in embarrassment. The three of you had decided to buy four portions of Jjajangmyeon, not forgetting Yoongi of course.
Meanwhile Yoongi had finished up the plastering, he looked at the clock, it was 3pm, the old lady did mention she would return at 6pm, there were 3 more hours to go, more than enough time for the plaster to dry and paint over. He smiled at the fact he was ahead of schedule and thought the lady will be so happy to see the finished results. Soon you, Sora and Yeonjun came back, you distributed the noodle bowls to each person.
“Thank you” Yoongi smiled, you swear he had winked too, you felt excited like a teenage girl. You blushed and proceeded to sit down to eat, it was a nice meal, mostly Yeonjun sharing his personal life and how he has crush on his neighbour.
Chapter 2
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fubuwu · 7 months
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The way they are making shit up just to justify insulting us for having jc as our favorite 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
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Difference is, when we criticise wwx, it's never done out of hate for the character and his fans. Neither do we go directly to wngxn posts to shit on the main ship.
All our criticisms are fair because wwx did make mistakes. He is morally gray. A morally upright person would not raise the dead out, knowingly tear their souls out of rhe reincarnation cycle and brutally torture people in the name of vengeance.
As valid as he was for all that, it doesn't make him morally pure. Remember, lwj himself was horrified by what wwx had done initially and what he was becoming.
Those are valid criticisms of a character, as opposed to the made up, over exaggerated fanon bs you all make about jc.
You all want jc fans to be the problematic bullies so bad when it's not us jumping on people's fanfics, appreciation posts and hcs, and dragging people's name through the mud, is it? *glances towards the more recent Twitter drama*
Also, there is just so much wrong with all these takes op made, which makes it so clear to me that they only read the book from wwx's pov....
Implying jc spat on wq and wn's help when he did try to speak up for them in the conference.... Implying that he never loved wwx unconditionally despite willingly putting his life on the line for him numerous times.... Fuck out of here!
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hello dear I hope you are fine , can you please write Ichigo x reader , Reader and Ichigo are best friends and Reader is an alternative Soul Reaper like him and she is extremely powerful like Ichigo She loves Ichigo but knows that he has a crush on Orihime, during a fight yhwach They and Aizen were able to defeat him, but before he died yhwach kill reader and she dies. I hope you write the reaction of others as well, especially Rukia upon hearing the death of her best friend
I apologize for my long request, and I also like your page very much. I always encourage you
Hello!
Thank you for requesting!
I am doing ok, with another tendinitis issue ( that's why requests are slow , sorry :c) how about you?
I truly appreciate your support! Thank you so much <3 and don't worry about long requests!
I hope this is of your liking! Please let me know what you think!
TW: Death mention, injury, blood mention.
Tsuki's Note: I did not read the manga so this might be a bit bs-tery! Sorry!
Tsuki's Note 2: I hope i remembered everyone?
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This was the final battle against the Quincy's. The battle against their king. You were a very powerful Shinigami despite being only a substitute shinigami. You have been to so many battle with your friends and crush, Ichigo.
You two always battled side by side. You were a great duo and each and every fight made you fall harder for him. But you knew this was an unrequired loved - he loved Orihime - the man himself has admitted that to you.
You cannot lie this broke your heart, but you also knew - like many others- Orihime also liked him, so he had a big chance and you rooted for them.
At this time, once again, you were sid by side with ichigo and.. well, Aizen. Despite everything you needed his help to defeat Yhwach. The fight was tough, there were several moments you thought you would lose.
That thought became true, for you at least. At some point, the three of you were sent blasting away by Yhwach. While you blinked away the fogginess of your eyes, you heard and saw Yhwach silhouete aiming an arrow at the body next to you.
You could feel the reiatsu of the man next you belong to Ichigo, he wouldn't be able to dodge it or to defend it. So you moved. You moved by instinct.
You shielded Ichigo being hit yourself, you could see his despair in his eyes and hear his sorrow by how he yelled your name. You took a deep breath and smiled:
"You fool! What are you sitting there for? Move! Go catch him! I will be fine!"
The man didn't even try to argue with you, you were right he had to move. But as he passed by you, Ichigo whispered:
"If you die i will kill you, got it?"
You laughed. But you did not answer him, you knew were not gonna make it - your liver was injured, it was matter of minutes until you died.
You could not let Ichigo know, so you did your best to attack long range for as long you could. Until your vision turned black, the world became quiet, every presence faded. All you could see was the immense white ahead.
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When the battle was over and Aizen was arrested, again, a sense of relief reached everyone. Ichigo went looking for you, the place where he could last feel your presence. Upon arriving there he called for you, once... twice... thrice.... nothing.
He started yelling desperately. At this point Chad, Rukia, Renji, Yoruichi and Ishida came to help looking for you. The one who found you was Rukia. She called the boys and Orihime. asking her to heal you.
Orihime tried once, but failed. She tried again and yet, nothing. On her third attempt she was stopped by Yoruichi. It was no use, you were long gone.
Ichigo fell to his knees next to you. His expression was blank, Orihime and Rukia started crying and were comforted by Yoruichi and a devastated Renji.
Chad placed a trembling hand to Ichigo's shoulder and Ishida fell silent, regret and sorrow flashing on his face.
Yoruichi carried your body back to Soul Society so you could have burial.
All of your friends were upset by your loss, some were numb than others - this war took many lives. But Ichigo took it harder. You were his best friend, his partner in crime, the one to fight with him through and through and now a piece of him was gone.
It took him several days to recover from your loss. Sometimes, when they were all hanging out he would call out your name if you were not coming along, only to turn and see nobody, no answer.
Every anniversary of your death, he would bring your favourite snack to your grave and update you on his life events. He did this every year until the end.
Rukia still remembered how brave and courageous you were. She kept all the kind others you have said to her, close to her heart.
Whenever she visited you, she would bring a ribbon. Each time a different color.
Renji also held close all the fights you fought together. How strong you were.
He visited your grave with Rukia and would whisper some old memories of you then.
Orihime also took a long time to recover from the loss. But she noticed she had to toughen up a bit for Ichigo. She still packed extra food for you every now and then.
She visited your grave alone, because Ichigo liked to go alone, she respected that. She would leave a sweet for you and update you on her life. Ask you Advices just like she did when you were alive.
Chad was also greatly affected. He Kept mostly to himself, but he was oddly quiet.
Whenever he visited your grave he took the time to clean it thoroughly. He leaved it squeaky clean.
Ishida felt a lot of guilt. He felt like it was partially his fault, even if everyone told him he could not have possibly foreseen this. It took him a long time to come to terms with your death, but he eventually accepted it was not his fault.
Whenever he visited you, He would briefly talk to you and update about everyone and just a bit about himself. At first he apologized to you over and over, but with time that was replaced by reassurance - he would let you know if everyone was really happy or not.
You passed away holding the secret of the unriqueried loved.
You never told anyone and you tried your best to hide it.
You were gone hoping your friends would live a happy, long life.
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Thank you for reading!
I hope this was of your liking!
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doodlesanddrabbles · 7 months
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Astarion's witty humour and elfin features had bewitched me mind and soul since the Early Acess, so of course Leshana's beau was going to be him.
Inspite of her genuine and helpful nature, Astarion did initially become fond of her ability to snark back and cut through other people's BS (when she's not calling out his own BS, that is)*.
Leshana meanwhile, was always the type to befriend weird loners at college so upon seeing this prickly hissing wet cat of a man would initially approach him to make him feel welcome in this hostage situation friend circle, and when he approached her for sex, decided that since she could die tomorrow why not? She fell first but was just as surprised as Astarion was when she also caught feelings for him.
Breakdowns of these points under the cut.
Template (c) @arcandoria
Other Leshana Templates
Leshana the character
Moodboard
(Extroverted vs Introverted) As mentioned above, Leshana always made an attempt to befriend the friendless at college, and honestly I guess any Tav has to be a little extroverted to communicate with any of the party. Astarion's extrovertism is mostly performative.
(Agreeable vs Argumentative) Leshana isn't afraid to call out someone when she see's bullshit, but otherwise does her best to keep an open mind to many things, asking Shadowheart or Lae'zel questions about Shar and Vlakith or taking part in the Lovitar's Pain Ritual , it comes in part of constantly molding herself to be what people expected her to be growing up. Honestly Astarion's a good influence on her in this reguards in getting her to be a little more selfish and less agreeable at times.
(Sensitive vs Hardened) Putting Leshana that far in sensitive is probably a bit mean, but most of me sharing screenshots of her amongst friends is pointing out how 90% of the time she looks like she's moments away from crying because someone was mean to her. Astarion, however, is rather numb to some of these things.
(Tactful vs Blunt) A bard with a level 1 Charisma Score of 17, Leshana is a people person used to manuvering her way through any social situation she finds herself in. Astarion likes to think he's just as charming and tactful as her, but oftentimes falls short and is just as fast to simply call an idiot and idiot when needed.
(Overprotective vs Chill) Leshana has had this entire party for two months or so but is already out for blood on everyone who made their backstories tragic, Cazador being top of that list. Astarion finds himself not entirely lying when trying to convince her that him Ascending would work in him protecting her, too.
(Secretive vs Outspoken) Astarion always voicing how much of a pain everything is, Leshana keeps a lot of her own troubles bottled up inside until she dies.
(Formal vs Casual) Leshana's Noble upbringing means that she's still trying to unlcench her pearls in some situations, again, Astarion's influence is helping her loosen up a little.
(Gifts vs Favours) Leshana wouldn't be doing half of these side quests for the party if their love language wasn't acts of service just a little bit, but also, Leshana is loaded and once she can get to her family estate and bank account the party won't want for anything ever again. Astarion however, has spent 200 years with nothing so all he knows to give is himself and favours. He's going to enjoy being spoilt rotten.
(Music) Leshana is a bard, so being able to draw an audience and let everyone hear what she's doing--or hearing a good performance on it's own--is what she's looking for. Astarion feels like the type who enjoys a nice quiet ambient music.
(Brawls vs Brains) A lot of Astarion's initial approval points for Leshana was her ability to talk her way into or out of situations and avoid unessicary conflict. He might not be as slick or as smooth as Leshana, but that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate her brain.
(Reserved vs PDA) Leshana is a cutesy bubbly girl who just wants to smooch and cuddle her boyfriend but also respects that he'd appreciate her asking first. Outsider's looking in might think it's a case of her being a lot more into him than he is, but in truth with Astarion it's the little things he does that mean the world to both of them.
(Submissive vs Dominant) IDK what to put here, this is just my own vibes of Leshana having no idea what she's doing so let's her partner take the lead in tandem with Astarion allowing himself take control of his sexuality. IDK man.
(Cute vs Hot) Leshana is the cutest woman in the upper city, Astarion is the hottest man in Baldur's Gate. Whatever Dhampir hellspawn they might have will cause riots in the streets just by batting their eyelashes.
(Kinky vs Vanilla) For a bard, Leshana was basically a virgin when Astarion first propositions her**, and when talkign to the Madam at the brothel, get's visably flustered enough to get teased for blushing by her. Astarion is figuring out just what he likes in the bedroom moving forward.
*Amazing that my babygirl consistantly rolled good insight checks on party members but always failed to notice traps. She'd be dead without Astarion pulling her by the cape out of wayward mines and tripwires.
** Does Head and hand stuff in college count as sex?
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yamisnuffles · 21 days
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character ask meme! 5, 6, and 9 for estinien.
oh, heck, and give me 15 for emet-selch. i mean, i know, but i want to read your words.
5. What’s the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?
Honestly, it's boring because it's just the song Heavensward from the OST. The expansion is obviously sort of his star moment and it's the song that plays when you fight Nidhogg, which was also a pivotal moment for Aubrey with him. So it will forever be his song in my head.
6. What’s something you have in common with this character?
While certainly not a constant, I can relate to his tendency to be a bit too blunt. I can appreciate the need to sugar coat things but, especially with friends, I tend to just say shit. Like him, it's not really born of any ill will or anything. Sometimes I just don't have the patience to BS through things. Related, but I would also jump out a window to escape awkward social situations if I could.
9. Could you be roommates with this character?
Oh, totally. He seems like he'd be a real chill roommate? You know, after his blood caked armor phase, I think it would be nice. We'd both do our own thing. I enjoy a fair amount of solitude. So does he. We both can go in for a heartfelt talk when it's really needed. Pick him up some squid to snack on sometimes and we'd be golden.
15. What’s your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn’t matter if it’s canon or not.)
You do know, but I'll say it anyway. Hythazemet, which I think is pretty thoroughly canon whether people like to accept it or not lol. I think that the three of them have a fun dynamic together and they all just love each other so much that it hurts. In life they did everything they could to support each other, with Azem pushing Hades' reluctant ass into the seat of Emet-Selch and dragging him out to the world they both so loved. Not to mention Hythlodaeus literally giving EVERYTHING in the hopes that they could carry on. He didn't think he had the strength to fight, but he was willing to give up his chance at rebirth if it meant he could help. Hythlodaeus continues to be their biggest supporters, even in death, helping you on the moon both because you're a shard of Azem and because you won Emet's approval.
And Emet-Selch. He went against everything he once stood for and carried on through a thousand thousand lifetimes trying desperately to bring back the world and people he loved (and still loves). Even when he was miserable. Even when he wanted to give up. He carries on and he remembers because only he, in all of existence, still can. One of the first scenes with him in ShB proper, we see him find a glimmer of hope after so long simply because he recognizes the color of your soul. He defied the Convocation created Azem's memory crystal in secret so that they would live on and when you call through it, he comes even in death.
I also really like Emet/WoL but only if it's messed up in just the right way LOL.
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dramarants · 1 year
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trying to come to terms with the bewildering final 10 minutes of tteotm:
first and foremost, undeniably, the technical and narrative execution this ep was choppy, weirdly paced, ambiguous (not in a cool OE way, just literally hard to follow - how are we in the tomb, why is she back in devil bride attire, where did the scale in the last shots come from, why did qingyu's fucking hair need to turn blond, pang yizhi what did you finally understand cuz I sure as hell don't??) and left a lot of loose threads. with all the build up to his sacrifice, you want some sort of twist or surprise but nothing comes. the ending is so abrupt and this is always and forever gonna leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
the last eps especially emphasized legacy and, with li susu returning as a goddess, I must assume the immortal realm learned the truth about ttj's sacrifices and believed it. ttj gets his roses.
I'm gonna pretend ttj explained the zhaoyou situation to her too
in fact if we're in imaginary land jiwu grew the fuck up and, upon realizing the depth of ttj's friendship in spite of everything, becomes riddled in guilt for a while and fiercely protects ttj's memory
a child!! literally how to carry a legacy and memories into future generations
ttj's destiny was to suffer and resent the world + give up his body and soul to carry out the devil god's will
instead, he embraced the light, learned to cherish the world, bore other's resentment in his final trial (strength that I sure as hell don't have! even saving jiwu from himself!) he remained in control of himself, choosing to sacrifice his body to stop the devil god's plans
the love was there and for once, to break a cycle of pain and sin, overcome the consequences in the mortal world, for ttj and lss, it was fucking enough!
by destroying the evil bone in his final moments he prevents the devil god from ever returning, truly the world's savior
his death was mostly on his own terms, with purpose he didn't have before
saving a part of his divine essence in the scale to continue to protect susu was a full circle moment
in fact ttj embodies mingye in a ridiculous number of ways by the end, from his actions to his values down to his clothes, yet another way to stick it to the devil god fate
he looks at peace in his last shot during the battle and in the scale
they had to cut scenes and therefore couldn't elaborate on the post all-in-distress world
or dedicate the 30s it takes to show him regrow from the scale or something lbfad style 🤧
it seems like he could hear susu when she was speaking to the kid? so he can follow his wife and daughter's lives knowing he's loved and respected until his return that I am headcanoning??
by being in the scale, he keeps his promise to stay by her side forever and accompany her in moving forward through parenthood and the ordinary life he dreamed of
in fact ttj never has to defend himself or put up with bs again, his fight is over and he gets to watch a harmonious world that he and susu made possible
susu my girl, having faith in him and understanding everything immediately and wishing to meet him again
bearing the cross of the only living god and continuing, again, their legacy, protecting their love and the world
she was ready to die with him!! like!! fuck till death do us part I'll share your burden let's embrace and face the end together!! a sparkle bathed version of ttj trying to die with her in ep 29!!
nothing can come between them anymore they fricking ensured that
plus them in the heavenly realm, the only two gods existing, removed from the world and basking in that moment where the devil god no longer exists and it isn't a dream 😭
the tomb scene was so heartbreaking in the good way
these characters have been on such an incredible, unhinged journey and looking back, there's so much more to unpack and appreciate
ugh it's not a bad ending cuz it's sad, I mean how many of us predicted he'd die for the greater good a long time back, it's just the way it ultimately played out was... somehow disappointing
but you know what I enjoyed the path here so much and can imagine their path ahead enough to forgive it and continue loving tantai jin and li susu and tteotm overall anyway
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hb-writes · 11 months
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Why Do You Care?
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Summary: After an argument for the ages, Lenny has decided Billy is an ass and she refuses to talk to him. Billy's willing to fix things and play nice, even if he's pretty sure Lenny's just being stubborn about the whole thing. Maria has had enough of his sister and Billy's bs and decides to intervene, forcing them together to prepare a birthday surprise for Frank.
Characters: Billy Russo & Lenny Falconio (OC)
Request (from 💜 anon): “Where does it hurt?” & “Why would you even care?” For The Punisher pretty please 💜
Content Warnings: A little language.
Life As We Know It (The Punisher) Masterlist
Please take a moment to tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️
Calling out was instinctual—a reflex, if anything. That’s what Lenny told herself at least. Just like throwing out her arms to brace her fall, it was an action of the subconscious. It certainly wasn’t a call for help—for Billy's help, especially—but the strangled shout had pierced the silence of the house anyhow.
Lenny hadn’t planned on that, but as she writhed on the floor she got to thinking maybe it wasn’t a bad thing because she hurt like hell—her arm, her hip, her foot, her head. Her whole body, it seemed. Maybe she'd done more damage than she initially thought. 
Billy’s quick footsteps echoed across the floor as he approached, audible even though he was a marine. As a rule, the man was unusually stealthy and light on his feet. It was just how he moved, an instinct of his own that usually created a cautious bit of distance between him and the rest of the world because he was somehow able to fade into the background when he wanted to, if he wanted to. 
Billy didn't care about any of that here though. He let down his guard a bit at Maria and Frank’s, a place that felt more like home than his actual apartment did, the inherent warmth of the Castle-Falconio household instantly thawing something in him every time he stopped by.
Billy appeared in front of her, a roll of blue party streamers still in his hand, almost as if he hadn't had time to even drop the roll before coming to investigate and Lenny’s words came out louder and faster than Billy's as he asked what had happened.
"I'm fine," Lenny groaned. 
The quiet that came after almost made Billy think Lenny hadn't heard his question, but he knew she had—she was just ignoring him. Same as she'd been doing all week, since their argument at Sunday dinner.
And it was fine. Billy didn't really need Lenny to answer the question. The scene before him was clear enough. She was on the floor with one hand wrapped around her ankle, covered completely in white dust, the half-empty bag of flour settled precariously on the counter, threatening to spill more of its contents all over them and the kitchen floor. 
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “You can—”
"You’re not fine." Billy lowered himself to the floor beside her. He’d agreed to keep out of her way, had allowed her to banish him to the backyard with balloons and streamers and a happy birthday banner, but that was before she launched herself off of the kitchen counter. "Where does it hurt?"
Lenny scooted away from Billy's hands, hissing as she tried to use her foot to leverage herself backwards.
"I'm fine," she insisted once again, though her breath was unsteady, her eyes watering as the growing ache in her ankle pulsed and throbbed.
"You're not," Billy repeated, his hands both gentle and firm as they replaced her hold around the already swelling joint, his hands cool against her skin. "You're—"
"Why would you even care?" 
Billy took a breath, part of him ready to laugh while the rest of him was ready to roll his eyes—all of it borne of frustration. Billy had known Lenny Falconio long enough and well enough to know deep in his soul that she was stubborn as hell, that she wouldn't give in so easily, even with tears in her eyes. "Because I do, alright?" he said. "I care…even when you think I've been an asshole and I think you're being a goddamn brat so just let me help."  
Billy saw the instinct to fight him on those points rise within her, but arguing that she wasn't a brat or a kid or whatever else Billy called her almost always only served to corroborate his point, the tone of Lenny's rebuttal and the indignation on her face condemning her as being the exact thing she insisted she wasn't.
"You are an asshole," Lenny offered instead, each of the words pushed out through gritted teeth.
"Maybe I am" Billy confirmed. "And maybe you're stubborn as a mule. Obstinate.” He shook his head, but it was with a bit of fondness, a knowing acceptance of the way she was and always had been for as long as he'd known her. “Climbing up on your sister's counters and nearly breaking your neck when you could've just asked me for help."
Billy was right. Lenny could've just asked him. She had known he was there—banished by her out in the backyard, just through the screen door. She had even thought about it before deciding she could get the flour on her own. She didn't need him or his long-reaching arms. Or at least, Lenny didn't want to need him. She didn’t want to need Billy’s help. 
That was the whole point of this standoff anyway, wasn't it? 
That Lenny was sick of Billy “helping” and butting in when it wasn't warranted?
When it wasn’t requested?
Lenny had told him as much when he sauntered into the kitchen upon his arrival, offering his assistance, assistance Lenny promptly told him wasn't needed or wanted. She hadn't said it, but she wanted him to mind his own business, to stop caring, the very opposite of what was happening now as his hands continued to cradle her ankle, his eyes full of concern as he watched her. 
And Lenny just wanted him to stop, to go back outside and let her ride out the initial wave of pain on her own. 
“Maybe we should call your—”
“No!” Lenny shouted, assuming he’d been about to suggest calling Maria or Frank, but the whole thing was supposed to be a surprise for Frank, for his birthday and interrupting them now would only ruin it. As far as Frank knew, spending the day at the batting cages with Maria and the kids was his gift. Lenny had begged off the outing, claiming she had a paper due, promising to make it up to him later in the week, but it had all been a lie.
There was no paper due—Lenny was staying behind to decorate the backyard and to make the cake. And to warm up the dinner Maria had already made and left waiting in the fridge. Lenny had planned to have everything ready by the time Billy and Curtis were scheduled to arrive and they’d all surprise Frank when he arrived back home with Maria and the kids.
That was how it was supposed to go, but then Billy had shown up early, ruining her mood, distracting her.
His surprise arrival wasn't of his own accord, of course. It was Maria who had invited him to come early, insisting Lenny needed help with set up even though everything had been under control.
The both knew Maria and recognized her meddling for what it was—she was just giving them an opportunity to sort things out, to clear the air before they all sat down to a celebratory dinner. Lenny could've taken the opportunity to fix things—Billy had seemed willing—but she hadn’t. Instead, she had banished him to the backyard to decorate while she stayed in the kitchen preparing the food, her headphones firmly in place as she worked.
"We don't need to call them," Lenny mumbled, pushing at the phone in his hand. "My neck's fine."
"Yeah, and your mouth's fine, too, apparently," Billy answered, a smirk on his face for about a second or so before he coughed around the handful of flour that hit his face.
Lenny's flour-covered hand shielded the uncontrollable giggles spilling from her lips as Billy started to chuckle, a hollow and dangerous sort of sound coming out of him as he tried to wipe some of the white powder from his face. 
"You think you're funny?" he asked, the seriousness of his tone only serving to make Lenny laugh harder and louder, all of it building until a handful of flour collided with her open mouth.
"Billy!" she shouted, spitting around the words.
"You started it," Billy answered around his laughter as he quickly reached for Lenny, not allowing her any time to fight him as he lifted her in his arms.
"Billy, put me—" Lenny started, cut off suddenly when Billy settled her in one of the stools on the other side of the kitchen island, his hands working to prop her swollen ankle up on an adjacent seat.
"Asshole," she muttered to herself as Billy walked away.
“Here." He pulled out a bag of frozen peas and turned to her. "Put this on it.”
Billy tossed the bag across the counter where it slid into Lenny’s lap and she let out a squeal as it made contact with the bare skin of her thighs. “I can’t just put it straight on—”
“Yeah, yeah." Billy moved around the counter again, this time with a tea towel in hand. He took the peas from her, carefully wrapping it before placing it on her ankle. "Here ya go, brat."
"Guess it’s a good thing I was here after all, huh?”
Lenny shrugged. "I would've been alright without—"
"You're unbelievable, you know that?" Billy shot back. "And I guess you're still planning on putting this meal together without my help too? Going to bake a cake with a busted ankle?"
Lenny thought about it, knowing she could struggle through it if she really wanted. It would be a pain in the ass and it would probably do her more harm than good in the end, but she could do it. She could prove her point.
"That's real smart, Len. Real—" Real fucking stubborn was what Billy wanted to say, his frustration flaring once again, a bit of the fondness slipping. Too stubborn for her own good, but she interrupted him before the words could come to his lips.
"You can make the cake," she offered.
"Really?"
"Yeah, you make the cake and decorate and clean up my sister's kitchen, and I'll sit here and supervise."
"Alright, fine." Billy snorted. "One condition though," he said, watching her for some sign of protest, but not quite finding it. "Curtis is coming by early to take a look at that ankle."
Lenny sighed. "Fine," she agreed, the throbbing of her ankle just a bit stronger than her pride. "Go ahead and call him."
"He's already on his way," Billy answered. "I texted him when you were too busy being a brat—" 
"You are such an asshole."
"Yeah," Billy answered. "An asshole who cares about you." 
Life As We Know It (The Punisher) Masterlist
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oncexinxmyxdreams · 7 months
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Encanto OC Event Week 2: Mercedes and her twins. Madre e Hijas
Week of relationships! Not sure what to put here. Mom and daughters each designed their own Mochila bag. Mercedes painted flowers. Alejandra decorates her with ribbons, cords and a bead chain. Francisca, she didn't design hers. Alejandra made her a chain out of green glass beads to dress it up.
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Let's start at the beginning! Mercedes was shocked and numb realizing she got pregnant so fast after marrying Pablo. (It was just one time!) He was too, but still cheerful and reassuring. His mother, Perla, eventually realizing Mercedes was forced into the marriage when told otherwise, offered comfort. Mercedes steadily grew happy and took one day at a time. It wasn't an easy pregnancy with aches and nausea. While the family was out of town for the day, working out details for their cantina, Mercedes realized she was in labor and gave birth alone. The family came home just in time to find a minute old Francisca snuggled against her tearful, but overjoyed mother. They were able to assist with Alejandra's birth and good thing because she was breech!
Though Mercedes and Pablo discussed names, she chose them. She'd always loved the name Alejandra. It sounded like a brave and kind heroine for a romantic novel. Francisca was a possible name, but not expected. Everyone guessed the twins were both boys or one each. (Sons were common in the Salazar line.) Mercedes might've named her firstborn Alejandra. Yet when she first held her baby, she knew her name was Francisca. She could never explain it.
Mercedes and Alejandra were most alike. They're similar in creativity: both enjoying art while Mercedes was a painter with Alejandra making jewelry and glass. Right down to the full lips, dark brown hair, face shape, and jade green eyes, they look near copies. They're close in personality being caring souls and hopeful though Alejandra clings to the past instead of looking forward. Together they enjoyed doing craft projects, cooking and fixing each other's hair.
Mercedes at first worried about Francisca. Her firstborn crawled and walked later than her twin. She fretted that she did something wrong. However, things changed when Francisca was a toddler. So much changed that Mercedes was confused. She wasn't sure why Francisca wasn't physically affectionate or didn't play like other kids. However, she soon figured her child's growing personality and could read between the lines. Francisca could be loving: more with words and would give hugs though not as warm or often like her sister. She preferred solving puzzles for fun. Mother and daughter had their own way to bond. Mercedes would try playing chess with her and they'd guess riddles. They could have deep conversation about things Francisca couldn't understand. Mercedes always gave attention to Francisca's migraines. She tried every home remedy she learned and comforted her.
Both daughters loved her dearly. They appreciated her hard work, love and strength. Besides, her cooking was great! All three did chores together; gardening was a favorite. They all liked running errands or just taking long walks. After the marriage annulled, the twins showed their mother extra support. Alejandra would cook breakfast so Mercedes could sleep later after night shifts. Francisca worked for extra pay. She also wasn't afraid to stand up for her mom when needed. There were rumors going round that it was Mercedes's fault that Pablo's marriage was annulled. "She must've failed as a wife for him to cheat!" Remember how I said Francisca wasn't afraid to call BS when she saw it?
Mercedes loved both her twins equally and appreciated their differences. She never pitted against each other or have them worry about favorites. Like a good mother, it broke her heart to see them in pain be it physical or mental. She was proud of them, but like any parent was concerned. She knew their flaws and guided to wise choices. She wanted Francisca to have more compassion. (This partially influenced Francisca's work in medicine.) She hoped Alejandra would gain confidence in herself.
Mercedes was upset that Pablo didn't contact their children, but decided she'd fill the roles of both parents. She did her best right to her last breath. Rest assured, she'd be thrilled to know her daughters meet the Madrigals, especially Bruno. He'd be surprised that one of them shares the name of his favorite telenovela heroine: Francisca.
@encanto-extended-edition
Don't worry I'll get to the friendships they each have with Bruno. 😉
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kharmii · 23 days
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small apology here, my rant about fakers, fauxtism and all that.
Gotta admit that I have stopped BNHA a few years ago. Not because I thought it was bad. I still like the world building and characters and how a lot of the Quirks reflect the personalities from everyone, I just didn't fully vibe with the direction the series took when it shifted away a little to hard from the academy life and all that. But gotta agree on Todoroki on all the points you've made. And I reach out to you in sympathy to you. Considering everything you've likely been through you have become incredibly strong, even if a little rough around the edges but honestly considering how things online are it's no wonder... I really admire you for being headstrong and being above so much stuff. And from your examples I also see that it's also from others being "others" causing more harm than good.
I have my own catalogue of examples of others having caused my depressions and anxieties (on top of many other things) and sometimes my attempts to step out of situations were outright ignored or dismissed. Too often others CAUSE people to react certain ways. And it really is just insulting when I see people see medical conditions as an aesthetic or a quirky personality trait or worse a free pass to be an asshole towards others "you can't be mad at me cause of my autism I dont know any better" bs
either way just wanting to know I really appreciated you talking about yourself and Todoroki and if anything it made me appreciate you even more.
Thanks for this! Tell me if I'm wrong because I like to play armchair shrink, (and it's totally projection) but is some of the resentment over fakers/fauxtism because they make it look fun and easy? -Like look at me! I'm (neurodivergent/mentally ill) and am having this great time expressing my quirkiness and individuality! I'm expressing my asshattery in a sassy and quirky way that will by no means create a fallout worse than the condition itself! People find me interesting after all!
Meanwhile, suffering from the abuse survivor's form of the 'tism, I've got the thousand-yard stare of that person not allowed to be quirky a day in my life. The slightest bit of weird behavior immediately got smacked down, and sometimes I'd be going about my normal business and get attacked out of nowhere wondering what I did this time. Then I get labeled as being cold and soul-less, like wait...are you saying that I'm not allowed to express my individuality in any way, but when I get that much closer to achieving 'perfection', then I'm accused of not having a personality at all? There has to be some sort of middle ground that every human being on earth is allowed except me.
Then there's the old 'Why don't you (x) like other (x)?' from Stalker Guy that couple times when we were still good. It was never anything having to do with a personality, more like yet another person trying to play puppeteer molding me into an ideal.
I just got into BNHA in January and had to limit myself to 3-4 episodes a day so I didn't binge burn through them. The X-Men fan in me loved the idea of a society of complex mutants, even with a greater suspension of disbelief. The "Hellish Todorokis" were a draw. At first, Shoto was such a 'blah' character, but then there's the first good abuse analogy where he wouldn't use his fire side because he didn't want to be like the dad he was pissed at. Ironically, some of his personality might be from abuse, but some of his stoicism and coldness might be because he actually takes after Endeavor. That's part of why Endeavor could never have hoped to become #1 or breed a future #1. Maybe he didn't understand that the sensitive warm-hearted All Might was the symbol of peace because he was one-part superpowers and one-part good public relation skills. :-P
The Endeavor redemption arc was good, even though the fandom got worked up about it. Come on now, it's okay for people to apologize and feel regret for the terrible things they did (how refreshing of a concept), and it's not like his family was like 'all is forgiven; let's pretend like it never happened'. They were still angry and hurting but willing to work toward a better relationship going forward. That's realistic and reasonable.
Every so often, I'll think to google if Dabi is still alive, but I shouldn't hold out hope. -Or maybe one could see it like...if he has to live his life blind and missing an arm, he's better off deceased.
As much as I loved Todoroki drama, it was the Meta Liberation Army that really grabbed me. What a waste of potential they all were! Maybe kids might be bored with them and happy they were one-shot villains, but as an adult, I loved the politician who used 'incite' to get the useful idiots going, or the goofball CEO doubling as a secret cult leader, or the skulking creepy hacker in charge of intel. Then there's my Himura ship I'm not advertising as incest because, even if I couldn't care less either way if it was or not, I'm sick of the foaming at the mouth crazies getting worked up about it. A person could be trying their absolute hardest to write a decent story in good faith, and the antis will glom onto the stupid kink and make it 100% defined by it.
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donutloverxo · 3 years
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Good little wife
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Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .
Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.
Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.
Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader
Word count - 8k
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“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”
You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.
Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.
You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.
“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”
“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.
“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.
You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.
But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.
After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.
All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.
You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.
Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.
“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.
You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.
This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...
But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.
Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”
“I will,” Andy smiled.
You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.
“I do,” since you had no other choice.
“I do,” he repeated.
You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.
The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.
Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.
Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.
He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.
You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.
And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...
You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.
You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.
Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.
You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.
With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”
“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.
“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”
“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.
“What?”
“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”
“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”
“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.
You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.
He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.
“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.
“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”
You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”
“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.
“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” you frowned.
He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”
You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...
“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.
“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?
He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.
You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.
No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice
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“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.
Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.
And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.
For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.
You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.
But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.
You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.
With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.
So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.
After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.
Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.
Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.
You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.
“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.
He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.
“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.
“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.
“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.
He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.
He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.
But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.
“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”
“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.
Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?
“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.
“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.
He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.
You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.
While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.
Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...
And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...
“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.
“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.
You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”
“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.
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Something was horribly wrong.
Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.
He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.
He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.
Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was
It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.
He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.
“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.
Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.
But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.
He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.
You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”
“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.
“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”
You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”
He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”
“What difference does it make?” you huffed.
“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.
“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”
“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.
“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.
“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”
He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.
“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”
“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”
You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”
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He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.
While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.
You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.
He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.
He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.
Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.
He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”
“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.
“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”
“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.
“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.
And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.
“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.
“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.
You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”
“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.
You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.
You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.
He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.
“You like it, honey?” he asked.
You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”
Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”
“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him
He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.
“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.
“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.
“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”
“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.
He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.
“Mmm... I can’t tell...”
“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.
You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.
You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”
“Do you like it?”
“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”
“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.
Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”
“What?”
“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.
“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.
“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.
He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.
You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.
“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.
You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.
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“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.
His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.
He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.
One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.
“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”
You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.
“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.
He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.
He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.
“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”
You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.
“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.
“What are you thinking?” you asked.
“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.
Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.
You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.
He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”
It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.
“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.
“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”
“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.
He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.
“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.
“No...”
“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.
You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.
His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.
Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.
You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.
You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.
“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.
He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.
“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”
He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.
“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.
Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”
“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.
He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.
You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.
Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.
Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.
He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”
Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.
You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.
He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”
“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.
“Get on the bed,” he ordered.
“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.
“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.
You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”
He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”
You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.
“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.
You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.
“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.
“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”
He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”
“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.
“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.
“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.
He’d make you take it.
You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”
You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”
“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”
You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”
“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”
“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.
You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.
“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.
“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”
You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.
“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”
All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.
He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.
You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.
But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.
Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.
You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.
“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”
You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”
His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...
“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.
“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.
“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.
“I love you,” you beamed up at him.
“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”
He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.
He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.
His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.
Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.
“It hurts!” you screamed.
“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.
“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,
A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.
Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.
You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”
“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”
You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.
“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”
You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.
He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”
You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.
“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.
“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.
“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...
“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”
You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.
Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.
“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.
He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”
He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.
He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.
“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.
“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.
You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.
“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”
“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”
“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.
You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.
You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.
His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.
His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.
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obeiii-mee · 3 years
Note
Hello! Can I request an hc about a shady MC who's not phase by anything in Devildom with the brothers (and Diavolo?? he deserves love!!!)? Like, when Luci's like "i CaN KiLL yOu hUmAN", MC's reaction was like "Oh... congratulations then." i need more shady mc who may or may not be planning to ruin your life😂😂 Thanks and take care!!❤❤
The Brothers + Diavolo with an MC that is not phased by DevilDom
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Pls I need more shady MC, they would not take any shit from the brothers. Put any Gen Z-er with these guys and you’ve got yourself a suicidal and reckless human exchange student.
They wouldn’t know what to do with one of those ahaksbakanhaka you’re right, Diavolo deserves all the love >:(((((((
You better take care too >:( thanks for sending me this big brain request. I’ve been preoccupied with other projects so I took a while to get to this ask. Hope you’re doing OK💙
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Lucifer:
-He thought having a human exchange student was going to be bad enough as it is but this…..this was so much worse than he could have ever imagined
-The moment you arrived, he already knew you were going to be a problem child and a persistent one at that
-Literally the first thing you asked him was : “Why do you look like an off-brand Levi Ackerman?”
-And he was left there, astounded, confused and offended because he had no idea who you were talking about (cuz at that point you hadn’t met the third eldest) and the tone you had was, frankly, pissing him off
-You kept wondering off on your own????? Without looking like you gave a shit even though you almost walked into a butcher’s shop that specialises in human meat???? Tf MC?
-Also really irritated that you couldn’t be intimidated and that DevilDom was like a playground to you, for some reason? Like, MC get out of the fiery pits of eternally tormented souls- this is Hell, not the McDonald’s ball pit ffs
-Things did not improve for him lmao, by the end of the first week he had already ripped out a good chunk of his hair because of you
-“MC, you should know by now provoking demons like this for no good reason is only going to make life harder for you. Keep this up and you’ll get killed in no time because of your behaviour.”
-“Great, can we have a hip-hip and a hurray?”
-In the span of one day, he’s had to come to your rescue six times (approximately) because you’re too nonchalant about your surroundings around literal creatures of hell
-He doesn’t have enough coffee or will to live for this bs
-“Lucifer, I found this dead plant and brought it here because it reminded me of you.”
-“…..sigh. Why? Why does it remind you of me?”
-“Because it’s cold and unresponsive.”
-He made the consecutive decision to ignore you
-(low-key kept the plant tho)
-Honestly, you get on his nerves a lot and he has definitely contemplated killing you in the past but at the end of the day he really can’t bring himself to do it
-We both know he tried a few times lmfao
-“I will tear you limb from limb, human-“
-“Can I finish my tea first.”
-“You…wait, what?”
-“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting this tea get cold. Try to kill time before I’m done and I’ll smash this cup against your head.”
-If you try hard enough, you might even elicit a laugh out of him, especially if your shadiness is directed at any of his brother which results in him patting your head affectionately
-Nowadays he’s just concerned because you seemed to have made an alliance of sorts with Belphagour and Satan and that’s not a good sign
-For his sake, if not yours, at least try to survive the year without getting chomped on by a random demon please
-He’s too stubborn to let you die just because you’re unbothered by everything so cut him some slack and help out damn it
Mammon:
-“Oi Lucifer, how come I’m stuck babysittin’ this stupid human?”
-“And how come I’m stuck with this asshole for a tour guide, with his fake ass designer shoes and no brand sunglasses. That’s a lot of smack talk from someone with crow shit stains covering the back of his jacket. Also, did you stick your hair in a bucket of mayonnaise?”
-……..
-He was so offended lol
-Normally, humans like you cower in fear whenever demons are as much as mentioned because of the whole “I can eat you whole” thing
-And here you are; insulting the Avatar of Greed and one of the princes of Hell himself just because you didn’t like his attitude
-Don’t worry tho, he warms up to you in less than a fucking month simply because you still come to his rescue whenever his brothers start insulting him and wow, look at that, his heart is now combusting on the floor
-“Y’all have no right to criticise Mammon when he has the most self control out of all of you.”
-“Since when does Mammon have any self control? He can’t keep himself from nicking anything that looks shiny.”
-“Motherfucker, I don’t see him trying to choke me to death, respectfully pls shut the fuck up. I don’t want to say I have favourites but if I do, it’s definitely him.”
-While Mammon’s in the background, with hearts instead of pupils in his eyes like ❤️👄❤️
-He doesn’t even mind running around after you anymore (will still complain about it though because your ass is in constant danger and he’s had enough)
-Honestly, you keep starting shit with random demons, some of which are quite powerful mind you, and you don’t back down even when he’s there to step in
-Would low key love to watch you fight one of your classmates at RAD and organise a ticket selling booth for the event but Lucifer will hang him a new one if he does
-So for now, he sticks to baring his teeth at the aggravator in question and you’re there, giving the same demon the middle finger
-The way you sometimes match his energy gets him so hyped up lmao
-“Mammon, did you steal Levi’s money again?”
-“T’s none of her business human. Now go away, shoo!”
-“Bitch, don’t ‘shoo’ me, I ain’t a bird. Now tell me, did you?”
-“…..Why do you ask?”
-“Because a new flavour of instant noodles just got announced, called ‘Super Hell-Sauce Flavour’ and I thought you might be more interested in that than wasting the money on gambling.”
-“….ok but only if you come with me to buy some.”
-This…this is true love right here
Levi:
-Oh no, now there’s two of you
-Why do I feel like his energy would match MC’s almost immediately? Maybe it’s because he spends too much time in his room on the internet like the rest of us do
-“What do you want, you stupid normie?”
-“300…..”
-“….300 what?”
-“300 mangas collected, thousands of episodes of anime watched, over 60 character figurines, plushies, body pillows, merchandise and several posters only to be called a fucking normie by a demon weeb that’s only known me for 10 minutes.”
-Boom, instant friendship
-He becomes attached to you almost immediately and now that he knows how unphased you are by DevilDom, he is seriously worried
-Hell, you’re making him consider going outside his room just to make sure you’re alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere because you decided to get on someone’s nerves that particular day
-Even during the quiz thing, when he almost kills you, you’re just sitting on the floor and awkwardly watching him as he throws a sissy fit
-Levi feels sort of conflicted with you because one one hand you’re good company and he loves having you around, you’re his Henry after all
-But on the other hand, you put yourself in so much danger it makes him paranoid so often to the point where he wants to keep you locked in his room and wrapped in bubble wrap
-Nearly had a heart attack when you almost walked right into a pit of lava like MC???? This isn’t one of his video games???? You’re not gonna respawn if you die????
-Besides all that, he gets a bit jealous of you confidence and your ability to just do whatever without fearing death or consequence
-“MC, how do you do it?”
-“Do what?”
-“How do you go about your life without a care in the world?”
-“I guess I’ll tell you my secret Levi. I’m not like other humans that’s why, I’m just so unique I do things differently.”
-“You sound like a pick me-“
-As long as you’re OK and not injured because of your carelessness, he’s indifferent about your behaviour and will even applaud you for your bravery when it comes to this sort of thing
-“lmao the human exchange student just dumped Solomon’s cooking in the trash while looking him dead in the eye 💀💀💀”
Satan:
-Your attitude towards DevilDom and demons in general kept him entertained, if nothing else
-You rarely seemed to consider how much of a threat that place really is and usually you were just running around, completely ignoring Lucifer’s rules and doing your own thing
-Which, you know, he’s all about
-I can’t say there were no incidents between the two of you
-With his short temper and your tendency to say things without caring about the consequences, there were definitely moments when he might’ve snapped on you
-“MC for goodness sake, what happened to my room?”
-“What do you mean?”
-“It’s an absolute mess! I just told you to bring me my spells and curses book, not mow through everything!”
-“It’s not my fault this place is built like a fucking labyrinth. You should be grateful I went to get it for you at all, I almost tripped and died several times on my way back. Also, you should get a new ladder for your shelves. It did the broken.”
-“MC….”
-“Yes?”
-“You are so lucky I love you.”
-Other than the fact his anger takes over him when things like these happen, he not so subtly encourages you to keep going because seeing Lucifer scowl at your antics gets him wheezing his lungs out
-I like to think Satan would be very impressed, even in the beginning, at the amount of nonchalance you can radiate at times
-I mean, you sure as hell don’t see it often and he loves how unpredictable you are more often than not
-If anything, he should probably thank you-idk how, but his patience has increased significantly every since you got here and he appreciates having some more control of his emotions
-“I’m gonna go put oil in Lucifer’s shoes.”
-“Do you have a death wish?”
-“Satan, I am old enough to make my own decisions and I concluded that this action is necessary.”
-“Necessary for what?”
-“Raising everyone’s morale! All of you seemed to feel down lately so I thought this would be fun for everybody!”
-“Except Lucifer, right?”
-“Except Lucifer. He grounded me from my D.D.D like I’m a fucking teenager who needs to be supervised-pssshht, I’m the most responsible one here.”
-“Yes clearly.”
-“Goodbye dear Satan, I may die today. But it’s for the greater good! (Dramatic exit with sound effects)”
-“WAIT MC!”
-“(pops head back in) yes?”
-“May I offer you my assistance?”
-You’re basically taking turns pranking his brothers and it’s hilarious
-Satan is not too worried about your well being simply because he knows his siblings and him are always going to be nearby to save you if you pull something stupid again
-Even so, he checks up on you throughout the day; just to make sure
-“Where were you?”
-“Running from a bunch of demons. Who wanted to go munchy crunchy on me, I assume.”
-“……”
-“Either that or people here are a lot friendlier than originally expected.”
-You can be such a handful and it really tests him, especially when he’s angry enough to begin with
-But despite your amazing talent at either getting completely lost around Hell, purposely walking into a prohibited place just because you felt like it or riling up others with how blunt you are, he still cares about you deeply
-You may be a pain the ass, but you’re his pain in the ass <3
Asmo:
-He should’ve known something was up with this particular human when you stood there, completely calm and collected, while Beel salivated at the thought of eating you on your first day
-Asmo just brushed it off for a while but it kept happening???
-The first time Lucifer ever told you off, you really went and said “Or what? Are you going to eat me? If so, you can go ahead and start with-“
-He came to your rescue and covered your mouth before you got to finish and before Lucifer unleashed his wrath on to everyone in that house
-“OOPSIE! I think MC has been spending too much time with me. Sorry Lucifer, we gotta run now! We have a party to attend, don’t we MC darling?”
-“You mean the one hosted by the guy that tried to kill me because I shoved into him on the hallway at school and then proceeded to tell him to go fuck himself right back into whatever hell hole he was born in before you came and charmed our way out of it?”
-“Yes.”
-“Ah OK. “
-You’re tiring for sure but you’re not exactly unlikeable
-You have a certain charm hanging about you that Asmo loves
-“I almost died like…30 minutes ago.”
-“WAIT WHAT?? WHY?? WHAT HAPPENED-MC ARE YOU OK???”
-“Yeah, I almost drank some poison today because someone told me it was water. It smelt off though so I didn’t.”
-“….”
-“Anyway, I got you this bracelet on my way home.”
-He really does wish you would take things a bit more seriously
-This is your life on the line, you know? What would he do if you died?
-“MC, you’re not immortal, you can die so much more easily than I can, you know that right???”
-“I don’t care.”
-“Well I do! And you should too….”
-A lot of people don’t see past his vanity tbh, because he can be such a caring person towards the people he loves
-The amount of videos he has of you appearing to be completely calm while pure chaos is descending in the background is pretty impressive
-Every time he uses his charm on you to try and get you to commit his sin, it just doesn’t work???? For some reason???? And even if it’s just with simple, innocent affection for now, he is determined to tempt you into it
-“MC~gimme a hug!”
-“But that’s social interaction and I don’t support it- do you have a charger for my D.D.D by any chance?
-Or at least die trying to ig
-Asmo loves having you around but you’re giving him wrinkles and that’s not okay >:(
Beel:
-The moment he realised how carefree you actually were, he sort of started checking up with you quite frequently throughout the day
-It’s his way of protecting you but if he could, he would follow you around all the time
-Becomes your body guard because you may not care enough about your safety but he certainly does so get ready to be carried everywhere
-You will not get hurt nor will anyone mess with you if he has a say in it and let me tell you, he does
-Thing is, his brothers mostly know him for being slightly dense in some aspects of day to day life
-He’s not perceptive of things that don’t involve food or his loved ones
-And because you most definitely are a loved one of his, he does notice how careless you are really often
-And it scares, rather worries, him because DevilDom is an incredibly dangerous place-even with all the precautions they had taken when you came
-“MC get down, you could fall.”
-“But Beel, look-I’m finally taller than everyone else! Taller than you even! Hey, should I do a backflip?”
-He has no idea why you thought jumping from 60 meter high cliff into a small river of squashed demon blood was a good idea but he wasn’t going to risk anything just because you felt like showing off your diving skills
-Proceeds to carry you away, completely unfazed
-In this case, I feel like Beel is not someone who gets bothered by the horrible things happening around there either
-As long as he has food and his family is safe and happy then he’s also happy, as mentioned above
-But he knows he’s alright with DevilDom because he’s been living here for centuries now
-A bit curious as to why you’re so unbothered
-And even more curious as to why you weren’t terrified of him transforming in his demon form after he lost control when he found out you ate his pudding
-Or more like Mammon did and pushed the blame on you
-“YOU. ATE. MY. PUDDING!”
-“Beel I love you but if you did not just see Mammon shoving the damn container in my mouth two seconds prior to this, then you might need glasses.”
-He apologised to you later for it but even so, you didn’t seem to mind like at all and he didn’t really understand why
-Unless you end up explaining why exactly you feel so indifferent about your life being in potential danger, he won’t really pry
-But now he has even more reason to follow you around like a lost puppy
-Since it’s clear you don’t really care about protecting yourself
-So now it’s his job to do it
-MC protection squad? Mostly Beel and Mammon
-ahhh he cute
Belphie:
-Oh
-You piss him off so much
-He’s trying to have his moment, you know?
-Finally getting that glimmer of satisfaction after killing a human as a way to avenge his sister’s death
-Trying his hardest to make it as miserable as possible because he has so much rage in him, he needs you to suffer
-“Harder Daddy-“
-“Oh fuck off.”
-Nah but for real, what the fuck MC
-Why does he even bother, he feels like he should be sleeping instead of dealing with your bullshit
-Even afterwards, when your future self shows up and he tries to kill you again, you look more thoughtful than irritated???
-Lucifer and Beel are literally holding him back from doing another Chocky on you and you’re standing there, looking at him with your eyebrows raised
-“Hey Belphie, I have a quick question. I know you’re trying to kill me and everything but do you like the colour blue?”
-“HUH??!?!”
-“It’s a simple yes or no question Belphie. Do. You. Like. Blue?”
-“WHAT DOES IT MATTER???!!!”
-“BELPHAGOUR, AVATAR OF SLOTH-YES OR NO, JUST FUCKING ANSWER!”
-“YES! FUCK YOU!”
-“Ah ok thanks. I like blue too :)”
-????????????
-Pls he felt like sticking his foot down your throat
-As of late, he’s kind of glad he didn’t manage to scare you away that day and that he didn’t traumatise you or something
-At the time, he was mad because he didn’t understand why you weren’t scared but now he just wants to make it up to you
-“You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m sorry MC, I won’t blame you if you decide to stay away from me now.”
-“Stfu dipshit, what’s gotten you so depressed? Did you have another fight with Beel? I told you not to eat the last slice of cake.”
-“Rude ass, I was trying to apologise for my past mistakes-let me repent will you?”
-“Said no demon ever. Now let’s go hang out you emo bitch.”
-Y’all vibe together on a spiritual level once that shit gets sorted out
-But he’s kinda scared you might pull out a knife on him ngl
-Obviously, you’re still annoying as fuck with that indifferent attitude of yours but he can live with it
-He appreciates the fact that you’re not scared of him, even after what he’s done
Diavolo:
-Ah yes, the future King of DevilDom himself
-He’s very enthusiastic about the idea of you having fun this year…..and to keep you alive….
-He, of course, expected a range of reactions from you when he first summoned you here
-None of which were “Ok but could you not have given me a heads up? Before the whole teleportation thing? I face-planted your onto marvellously polished the floor and now I think I lost even more brain cells than before.”
-He felt so bad gagajajahahwgehhsb
-He apologised for bringing you out here without any warning like that and then proceeded to introduce you to everyone
-Diavolo is actually kind of relieved to see you’re handling everything pretty well
-He thought that maybe DevilDom was too much for a human to deal with
-Meeting Barbatos also went incredibly smooth
-“Barbatos? The one that cleans the floors right? Big fan of your work, I could eat off the floor of the main hall.”
-He’s so glad to see you getting along with everyone and not getting intimidated by the brothers
-It gets him excited thinking about how the exchange program is gonna work and all three realms will be united
-But he’s not stupid so don’t think he’ll allow you to stumble around, getting up to all sorts of mischief
-He always has someone watching you because he would hate to see you die, despite being pretty fond of your carefree attitude
-“MC, please be careful. Most demons here aren’t all that nice.”
-“Aye aye Captain.”
-He fears that many demons would take your indifference as a challenge and try to assert dominance or something by kidnapping you
-As far as creatures of hell go, they love installing fear in people
-So he always keeps an extra eye open for you
-And he’ll be there to help you if something goes wrong
-But other than that, he’s pretty chill as well and he finds you so hilarious, it’s been a while since he’s seen someone as eccentric and dramatic as Mammon and Asmo
-Idk what else to add here, Diavolo is very accepting and as long as you don’t get hurt, he’s glad you can get used to your new surroundings so easily
———————————-
Al~
573 notes · View notes
hansolmates · 4 years
Text
here comes the bride, all dressed in pride
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summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty
prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”
if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕
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Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 
You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 
In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 
And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 
Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 
“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 
Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 
“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 
Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 
“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 
“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 
“As if you care.” 
“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 
You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 
Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 
It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 
“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 
Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 
Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 
“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 
“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 
“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 
“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 
Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 
“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 
And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 
“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 
“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.
“How did you two even meet?” 
“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 
“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 
“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 
And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 
“Of course,” you raise your glass.
“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 
“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 
“That’s not what I meant.” 
“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 
And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 
“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 
“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 
“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 
“Don’t ask questions.” 
Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 
“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 
He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 
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You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((
You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 
You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 
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Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 
Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 
Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 
“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 
At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 
“How was the walk over?” 
“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 
Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 
“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 
And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 
“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 
“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 
Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 
“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 
He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 
“It… was mildly cute.” 
“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 
“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”
The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 
“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 
“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 
Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 
You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 
“So what’s the plan?” 
“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 
“And why is that?” 
“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 
His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 
With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 
Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 
“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 
“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 
“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 
“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 
Oh, this is going to be interesting. 
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Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 
His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 
“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 
Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 
“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 
“I do like Valorant.” 
“He likes pork belly.”
“I do like pork belly.” 
“He’s ripped as hell.” 
“I am ripped as hell.” 
“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.
“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 
“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 
"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 
“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 
“Okay yes one bad example—” 
“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”
“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 
“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 
Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”
"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”
"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 
"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 
"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 
“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 
Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 
“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”
You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”
“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 
“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 
“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 
“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 
“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 
Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 
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“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 
“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 
You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 
Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.
“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 
“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”
And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.
You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 
“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 
Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 
“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”
“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 
While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 
“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 
“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 
“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 
“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”
Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 
“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 
“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 
“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 
You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 
Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 
Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 
“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 
“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 
“Only if you want to.”
“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 
“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 
“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 
Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.
“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 
“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 
“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 
His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 
“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 
“Sounds good.” 
“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 
“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.
“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 
Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.
And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 
You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 
By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 
He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 
“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 
“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 
“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 
“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”
“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 
“Pray tell.” 
“She’s jealous of you.” 
“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 
“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 
You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 
“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 
“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 
Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 
“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 
“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”
You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 
“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 
You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 
“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 
Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 
“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 
You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 
He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 
“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 
“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 
He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 
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“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 
Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 
Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 
Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 
“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 
“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 
You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”
“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 
Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.
Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 
But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 
One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 
“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 
“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”
“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 
“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 
“Why?” 
“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 
The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 
“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 
“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 
“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 
“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 
“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 
“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 
The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 
Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 
Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 
“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 
“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 
“Oh, really?” 
“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 
“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 
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Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 
“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 
You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 
Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 
“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 
“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 
“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 
“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 
“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 
“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 
“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 
“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 
“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 
“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 
“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 
Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 
“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 
The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 
“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 
“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 
The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 
“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 
“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”
At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 
“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 
Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 
“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 
“But this is different!” 
“But Doyeon’s family!” 
“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 
“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 
Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 
“Deal.” 
You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 
Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”
Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 
“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 
“Yeah, I will.” 
“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 
“Excuse me—” 
“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 
“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 
“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”
“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 
“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 
Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 
“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 
“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 
“Is it something urgent?” 
“Well, no but—” 
“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 
“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 
Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 
“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 
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The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 
Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 
On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”
You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 
He shrugs, “Looked around.” 
“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”
“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”
Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 
Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 
“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.
“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 
“I wanna come!” 
“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 
“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 
“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 
“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 
“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 
By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 
Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 
The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 
Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 
But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 
“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 
“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 
“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”
“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 
“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 
“Then more kisses?” 
“Then more kisses.” 
Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 
You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 
Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.
Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?
Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀
Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting
Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 
Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 
Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 
Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 
“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 
“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 
“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  
The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 
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You: lool, why do u look constipated 
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 
You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN
You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 
“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 
“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 
And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 
“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 
“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 
You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 
You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 
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“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 
“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 
“Because it’s tradition!” 
“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 
“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 
You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 
Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.
From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 
Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 
The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 
As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 
Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 
Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.
You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 
Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 
Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 
You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 
Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.
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Jungkook loves your family. 
(Except Doyeon.)
As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 
Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  
But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.
Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 
He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 
When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 
“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.
You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 
“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 
You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 
“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 
“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 
Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 
“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 
 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 
He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 
The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 
Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 
The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 
The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.
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You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 
“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 
You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 
“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”
“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 
You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 
“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 
And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 
Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 
Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 
Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 
“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 
“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 
He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 
He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 
You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 
“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 
“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 
“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 
“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 
“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 
“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 
“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 
“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 
Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 
Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 
His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 
But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.
“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 
“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”
“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 
Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 
He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 
The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 
He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 
“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 
“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 
In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 
He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 
“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 
He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 
As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 
Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 
“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 
“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 
“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 
“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 
He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 
“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 
Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”
“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”
Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 
But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 
And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 
Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 
It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 
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The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 
The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 
But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 
You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine
When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 
So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 
Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”
You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.
“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 
“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 
“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 
“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 
Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 
Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 
Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  
The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 
He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.
“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 
You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 
“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”
“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 
“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”
“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 
“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 
Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”
“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 
“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”
“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 
You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 
Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 
“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 
“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 
Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 
Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 
“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 
“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 
“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”
“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 
You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 
“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 
“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  
Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 
“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 
Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 
As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 
As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”
The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.
“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”
“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.
Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  
You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 
“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 
“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”
“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.
“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 
The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 
“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 
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Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 
The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 
There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 
Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 
As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 
And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 
Or? 
Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 
“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 
“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 
“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 
Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 
All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 
“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 
You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 
“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 
“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 
“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 
You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 
That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 
You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 
“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 
Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 
“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 
“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  
“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 
Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 
“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 
Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 
“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 
Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 
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ruinedsam · 2 years
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27 & 30 for the Sam ask game please
27. Your take on Bobby's treatment of Sam?
Bobby fans look away
I can admit I'm hard on Bobby compared to John, which may sound strange because if you consider their treatment of Sam in terms of the effect it has on Sam, John clearly did more long-term damage. But, bear with me, I have good reasons - I actually did some soul searching recently because I was puzzled about my widely different responses to Bobby and John. The key difference, for me, is that John loves Sam and Bobby doesn't. I can forgive mistreating Sam (to some degree), but i can't forgive not loving Sam.
Bobby may talk about loving the boys, but from the very beginning he treated Sam differently. I don't see any actual love for Sam in his behavior, I just see him loving Dean and being vaguely fond of Sam because they're a package deal: He barely reacts when Sam dies in AHBL yet when Dean sells his soul, he's almost crying. In Born Under a Bad Sign, when Sam had to live through a possession and gives him a smile, Bobby only gives him a suspocious look. Of course there's his role in locking Sam in the panic room and forcing him in a dangerous detox. In 5x20 he said some bs about Sam having evil inside of him and told Sam he's too weak to fight Lucifer. He didn't notice somethin was off with Sam when he was soulless - or he did and didn't care enough to do sth about it. He wanted Dean to have a life outside of hunting but shamed Sam for trying to do so. Come on, when he was dying he reminisced about a day he spent alone with Dean. That man didn't love Sam. So yeah, I don't care for him at all.
30. Which character(s) deserve(s) to rot in hell for crimes against Sam?
Who doesn't? Everyone and their mother hurts Sam and no one within the story gives a shit💀
I'd say Dean and Cas deserve a temporary stay in hell because they both deliberately hurt Sam but were never held accountable in any way, shape or form. They barely even acknowledged it, let alone apologized or tried to atone for it. They need some time in hell to realize and atone for their sins. I'd let them out after a while tho 🙂
Wait I forgot - Charlie deserves some helltime too for thanking Dean for saving the world while making a shitty comment to Sam about his dead girlfriend, along with everyone who fails to appreciate Sam. Which is basically everyone tbh. Well, they made their own bed, now they gotta lie in it :)
Lucifer, Toni Bevell and all bmol except Mick Davies, Chuck, Azazel, the demon inside Brady, Gadreel, Metatron, Tim & Reggie and Lillith on the other hand deserve to suffer for eternity :)
Ask Game Here
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catz4ever · 3 years
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Review and Thoughts of Foundation Episode 8 "The Missing Piece":
-Hands down, this is my favorite episode of this season of Foundation!
-The idea that Brother Day would humble himself to the point where he was willing to risk the spiral as a regular human being without the protection of his blood nanobots is a bold move.
-I truly believe that this journey he went on was to prove to himself that he indeed had a soul. I feel like part of him felt scared that because of his clone make-up there was the possibility he doesn't have one. This further delves into the notion that although they are all clones of one original man, each Brother is indefinitely their own unique person. Brother Day is inherently trying to find himself as an individual. A similar thing is happening with Brother Dawn, physically and emotionally, but on a grander scale.
-I really loved that we got to see the human side of Brother Day in this episode. He struggled with the elements just as much as the other pilgrims. He even offered to help his travel companion and grieved for him when he finally gave in to death.
-Although he lied about seeing a vision in the pool at the end of his journey, the fact that he physically survived the whole journey is a personal achievement in itself. Personally, I think the idea that you are soulless for not having seen a vision at the end of your pilgrimage is complete BS. He didn't see a vision bc he does not share or practice in their religion. I fully believe that each Brother, although a clone, does have a real soul.
-Demerzel confronting Brother Day about lying to the sisters was passive aggressive and completely uncalled for. I understand why she was upset with him but to say what she said about not seeing a vision, that crossed the line for me. Yeah, he had her murder Zephyr Halima in the end and that was wrong, and I am not condoning that. But he took her stone with him on this pilgrimage to give him strength, so that she could be with him as she always has. He's always trusted her and she straight up tells him (well implies) that he doesn't have a soul. She knows he didn't see anything. But personally, again, the whole no vision= no soul baloney is complete BS. 🤷‍♀️ The tears welling up in his eyes as they were prepping him for the jump was absolutely heartbreaking. 😭 Shame on you Demerzel!
-I really appreciated the amount of time Lee's beautiful body had on screen. Like DAMN! He's worked so hard to look this good and I'm just glad we were blessed with a good show! He struts his stuff too like he knows it. 😏 Daddy vibes all day long! 🤤 THOSE THIGHS THO.....👀👀👀 (Excuse me while I wipe the drool off of my phone) 😂
-I lost count of the times I yelled "work it!" and "you handsome motherfucker!" During this episode 😂 I cat-call Lee all the time in the privacy of my own home, ...it's fine.
-All thirsting aside, Lee's performance in this episode was absolutely top-notch and breathtaking to watch! Someone please give this man more credit!
-Salvoor is now my second favorite character in this show. What a bad-ass!!!! 🤙🤙 I'm curious as to what happens since the Invictus is now about to make a jump and they are all awake. 😬 Like are they going to survive?
-What is this talk if a second foundation that Harri mentioned to Gaal? Like why didnt we hear of this before? Did he know in his calculations that the Terminus project would eventually fail? If so, why even bother? Does it have something to do with the mysterious gates on Terminus?
-Where TF is Gaal's story going to go?? Like she's just gonna float in space for over 100 years and that's it? I know the actress is returning for season two so maybe we'll have more answers before the end of the next two episodes?
SUMMING IT UP:
DEMERZEL IS A HEARTLESS TRAITOROUS BITCH
BROTHER DAY IS DADDY
THIGHS, BICEPS AND PECS.
That's it. That's the review. 🤣
If any of you want to add anything or discuss this episode further, feel free to comment or message me!
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***The next segment of my Brother Day fanfic will be posted by the end of today so stay tuned!***
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liitlesunshiine · 3 years
Text
High on the clock
Quirkless AU - Toya Todoroki
Warnings: cursing, drug use, anxiety, panic attack mention, suggestive themes, slight sexual themes 
A fun light hearted fic. Definitely enjoyed writing this piece so I hope you guys enjoy reading it. ^.^ It’s flirty n cute n Toya is a total bae. <3 
You and Toya are coworkers who try making the most out of your shitty job. 
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“Goddd this place fuckin blows.” You groaned in frustration sitting across Toya. 
“As if I didn’t know that already,” he sleeplishly replied. 
You never intended on working in this shit show of a store for as long as you have but yet, here you were two wasted years later. You had high hopes after graduation but it seems no job wants to hire someone with no experience and you can’t get any experience since you can’t get an actual job that’ll provide it. So it’s forced you in this sort of awkward limbo and vicious cycle of going back and forth. You’ve been stuck wearing this shitty bright uniform with a barely livable wage and terrible hours. Miserable every second of the day, with the constant guilt eating at you for being so complacent. 
Of course there were a few exceptions.
Of course… Like the highly attractive coworker you spent most of your time here with. Days spent with Toya were significantly better than the days spent without Toya. In fact, if it weren’t for him, you’d probably wouldn’t have lasted as long as you had here. Because man, when days were good they were ok, but when the days were bad, they were really fucking bad.  Some in which you were ready to burn down everyone and everything yet the sweet, hot, god-like Toya would make you melt with his cute quirky smile and meet your eyes with his own that you would absolutely drown in and next thing you know, you had completely forgotten about what you were upset over. Now, it’s just a bonus that he meets your sarcasm with his own, the both of you have always had this flirty like atmosphere that neither of you are willing to acknowledge but low key kinda know there’s an underlying sexual tension there. It was strange how well you both got along, the average onlooker would assume nothing more than a simple boyfriend and girlfriend relationship but it was really just mutual likability and connection between the two of you. Days with Toya were simply good days. And you were absolutely grateful for someone like him because god knows how terrible it’d really be here without him.
“Why don’t we make this night a bit memorable,” Toya who was right next to you behind the counter, gives you a side wink and unzips the company jacket to reveal a small ziplock within the pocket. Andddddd long behold it’s weed! You chuckle to yourself, never getting tired of Toya’s shenanigans. Very much appreciated as he’s best form of entertainment here. 
“Toya we almost got caught last time, you really wanna risk it again?” Your words ran on deaf ears as he was already rolling up the blunt underneath the counter, “what’s the worst they can do? Fire us?” You stopped for a second and nodded, well he wasn’t wrong. Maybe this was the push you needed to finally leave this shit hole. “You got a point, let’s do it quick before someone comes in.” 
While this is a 24 hour convenience store, usually pass 1am, rarely anyone is inside. So you suppose it wouldn’t be too bad of an idea. Plus with Toya your bound to have a good time, who are you to deny him. You trusted in him enough to get away with his bs. 
“Pass the lighter doll,” you fished for the lighter that was nicely decorated with little blue flames over in your small book bag and passed it to him. He holds the blunt between his two hands and you duck underneath the counter with him. “Ladies first,” he cockily said, you lean forward and placed your mouth on the blunt while he held it for you. He always did this and it always felt oddly intimate to you. Couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling in your chest taking over when his glass like eyes gazed over you. They always made you curious and somehow hungry for knowledge of his life. You’ve never knew someone so well yet know nothing of them, but that’s always been enigma of Touya. You exhaled closing your eyes, attempting to calm your nerves. “You know the only time I ever smoke is on the job with you.” He smirked bringing the blunt to his own lips, “guess I’m a bad influence then.” 
You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Everyone needs a lil spice in their life, no?” It was his turn to roll his eyes. You gently grabbed his wrist and led the blunt back to your lips again, he stared quietly at you. Which oddly made you tense up. “Don’t look at me like that,” you smiled. 
“Like what?” He smiled. 
“Like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world that you can’t live without.” Now you both laughed. This was the usual routine with Toya; cracking jokes and talking shit for a bit and simply enjoying each other’s company while the store was empty. He finally broke the trance you were in when he spoke up. 
“You know, having my father kick me out of the house wasn’t so bad after all,” Toya leaned in. 
You looked at him with a puzzled look, he never brings up his father. Whenever the conversation appeared it was quickly diverted elsewhere. You didn’t want to poke or intrude but curiosity got the best of you and you couldn’t help but want to continue the conversation. “Yea? Why is that?” You wondered. His father, from what you’ve been able to gather with the little bits Toya has mentioned here and there, was that supposedly his father is some CEO to a multi million dollar company. Odd considering the likes to where Toya ended up but you concluded that they must’ve ended in bad terms. You understood how cruel and selfish parents can be and didn’t need further explanation on that part. Easy to assume considering how poorly and little he speaks of him. He shut your ideas off with his simple response. 
“I wouldn’t be smoking a blunt with the world’s most beautiful girl under this shitty counter, if it weren’t for it.” Ha, that definitely caught you off guard, causing a light blush to form across your face. Even with a seeming sensitive topic he still manages to tease you. He’s got that cheeky smile plastered all over, “Got you choked up doll?” You rolled your eyes. You were about to tell him off before the door rang indicating that someone has entered the store. You snapped out of the haze and immediately got up to quickly realize that the person who entered was one of the regional managers, oh fuck. You nearly froze in fear and kicked Toya under the counter. “Ow the fuck was that for?” He looked at you while soothing the kick you just gave him but upon looking at your panicked expression and frenzied body, he quickly crushed the blunt and shoved it back inside the pocket of his jacket. He didn’t need to be told or explained which you greatly appreciated at the moment. Toya was always able to read the room, bless his soul. He clumsily got back up to which you had fixed his crooked hat and whispered into his ear to tuck his shirt in while covering him slightly to do so.
“Hi-ya hello, good afternoon, I mean good evening sir.” You embarrassedly stumbled over your words to which Toya snickered at. You kicked him again harder this time as discreetly as you could. On the verge of a panic attack. He gripped tightly at the counter, smiling at the man in front of you both. Hissing silently at the pain your kick caused him. He gave you a quick side eye nodding his head in disapproval. Which somehow made you feel drastically worse. 
“Good evening to you both, I’m sure you know who I am.” 
You responded a bit too hastily looking like a rabid chihuahua. “Yes! Yea. Of course we do, how are you? What brings you in at this time? It’s so late.” You manage to say within 2.0 seconds, the automatic robotic customer service attitude overtaking your body. Well- at least trying to considering you just had a 30-minute smoke sesh under the counter and your mind is  desperately trying to sober up. Honestly, what the fuck was he doing here at this time? This has never happened and I mean out of all the hours of the day. Oh yea, you’re definitely getting fucked, the smell of weed was so pungent, it was literally embarrassing how bad the situation looks. You wanted to cry. Toya’s eyes were stained red and you only assumed yours look worse. 
“Gotten a few complaints about this store recently. Wanted to come in and take a look.” You began to get a cold sweat, oh shit he knows, he definitely knows. You had words lodged in your throat that couldn’t come out. What could you say? What can you say? You’re in the wrong here. Everyone knows that smoking weed with your cool and kinda hot coworker under the counter is definitely not ok. Maybe even illegal, oh god what if this gets on your record. You’ll definitely not be able to get a professional job, then you’ll really get stuck working a even shitter job than this. Oh good oh god oh my god. 
As if sensing the absolute panic and anxiety off of you, Toya gently caressed your arm motioning you to relax and to stay silent. You recognized the wave that washed over him and instantly knew he’d handle the situation, he always does. And if you could die in his arms right now, you’d accept your fate happily. Toya was an interesting man oh right, you always believed he held such potential to do great things and even change the world. It doesn’t make sense really considering you both work at a basic job but you had come to secretly admire the guy. You’d would tell him too, how you believed in him, how you had so much confidence for him to become something great but he would always shut it down and brush it off like it was nothing.  It was as if he didn’t think he was good enough. It always bugged you that he thought so little of himself, but seeing him now causally and confidently bullshit the regional manager out of your current situation just simply reminded you of how special he was to you. Definitely got your pussy wet and made you eternally grateful too.
Toya was standing in front of the counter, making hand gestures while the manager just stared analyzing his words. You were completely z0ned out, only able to get parts of the conversation. 
“We’ve been having this customer appear at the store over and over again around this time of night harassing me and Y/N. We’ve considered calling the cops since he’s always high off his mind, we’ve caught him smoking in the bathroom on multiple occasions too. He was in here about 15 minutes ago and we haven’t been able to get rid of the smell.” 
Ah the beautiful lies that slipped through Toya’s lips sounded like a symphony. It was nothing short of comedic and yet so fucking Oscar-worthy. You could definitely pay this man to tell you lies he with how effortlessly convincing he was. You couldn’t even care to listen to what the manager was responding with, but on his way out he waved at you wishing you a goodnight and you sighed out with relief. 
Toya turns to you clasping his hands together “well there’s gonna be a security guard here for the next two weeks.” You laughed “I guess that’s better than getting fired huh.” 
“I’m not sure about that,” he chuckled. “I texted Shigs to come and take over the rest of our shift.” 
You looked at him confused, “how come? Either way, do you think he’ll be ok alone here?”
Toya slipped his phone into his pocket and walked back to you “yea he doesn’t give a fuck. Besides you look pale fucking white, guess this guy sobered your ass up real quick.” 
You attempted to glare angrily at him but it came off as a soft puppy look. You had no energy nor the strength to pretend. It feels like you just got whiplash from the rollercoaster you were on. Figured it was no use in lying considering you looked like you just went through it. “Yea, I still feel high as shit, I just wanna go home already, only thing this guy gave me was a fat fucking headache.” 
He ruffled the top of your head, “awe poor baby,” he said in a teasing tone, he inched up right beside you, “I got something that can help with that.” You jokingly pushed him off you, tying to ignore the warm feeling pooling under your stomach. Your mind was definitely thinking something dirty with a million miles per second and with how he handled today’s situation you’d be more than willing to give him whatever he pleased, but you pretended to cast aside those intrusive thoughts and act unfazed. “Shit don’t tell me you got Advil on you too?” 
He chuckled lightly nodding is head down, “got something even better doll.” He scoots up next to you and grabs a bottle of excedrin underneath the counter, passing it to you. You excitedly open it taking two pills out “oh my god I didn’t know we had some underneath here, yes thank you. You're definitely my hero today Toya.” As if y’all didn’t work in a convenience store that had if not all types of medicines. It was the effort that made it special though, it’s what brought that bright goofy smile of yours to light.  
You weren’t able to see the blush that formed on his cheeks while you swallowed the two pills. “Yea I remember you telling me you get headaches n shit and I know this medicine helps with it.” He was scratching the back of his head awkwardly. He never really handles compliments well but you tippy toed over to him and wrapped your arms softly around his neck. “I appreciate it Toya, that was really thoughtful. Thank you.” 
If you didn’t see his previous blush you definitely noticed this one, which in turn lead you to blush. But you couldn’t miss this opportunity- “AWE is lil Toya blushing. So cute brings me back to my middle school days.” That caused a loud laugh to come out of you both. “Shut it.” he quickly and quietly said. 
“Am I interrupting something.” You and Toya quickly untangled from each other trying to play off the slight tension in the air. 
“Errrr um.. Hey Shiggy, thanks for uh coming in.” You awkwardly stumbled, you never really got along with him so there was always this weird loud silence between the both of you. He already seemed to be annoyed, per usual.  The sloppy blue hair all tangled looking greasy and his patchy skin looking irritated and flaky as usual. He definitely was not amused or happy to be here. Well when was her ever. You’ve yet to seen the man smile. 
“Whatever.” He takes a sip from his metal bottle and walks over to the counter. 
“Shiggy you the man, thanks for pulling up bud.” Toya pats him in the back and Shigaraki shuttered. “Don’t touch me,” he flatly said. He glared at you both. 
“You guys can go leave and fuck now.” The words caught you instantly by surprise and you got completely red. “That’s not what were gonn- ugh whatever like it matters.” With that, you and Toya clock out and leave the store with Shigaraki sending daggers at your back.
“He’s always acting like such a bitch.” You annoyingly complained. 
Toya puts his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him “he ain’t so bad when you get to know him.” 
“I guess.” You rolled your eyes, you didn’t really care. You were more relieved to have finally left. He can rot in the store by himself for all you care. Not you or Toga would miss him. 
“So,” Toya glided with his words, itching you closer to him. He was leading the way in this position with you happily following. Not knowing the destination but feeling completely at peace with his form completely snug at your side. You comfortably wrapped your arm around his waist and gently placed your head in the crook of his neck. This was nice you thought, you and Toya were always this intimate when alone. No hesitation or awkwardness, just simply holding hands and sharing body heat as friends with the underlying passion waiting to burst and to be acknowledged. But nothing ever felt rushed, not with Toya. You stared at him from this angle, taking in his beautiful effortless features. His lashes looked so long as you stared in slight jealousy, his hair a perfect black mess with hidden red roots if you stared long enough, and his eyes. Man, you could write poems and sing songs with how the eyes stirred up some emotion you can't quite pin down. Always causing an eruption of feelings you can barely control. 
You felt the warmth from his breath when he spoke, “wanna go to back to my place and finish that blunt? Would love nothing more than to see the world’s most beautiful girl on my bed.” 
You blushed and nodded looking at those piercing blue eyes once again “well, when you look at me like that I guess I can’t say no.” 
Maybe this time you would finally show Toya just how special he really is to you. 
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