#i have a love hate relationship with all the dumb filters i slapped on these

[jthmstims]

Spotify Wrapped #32: Make of It - half•alive

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#half•alive #music #stimboard #stim #blue #water #body stims #nature #purple #brown #yellow #sorta #i have a love hate relationship with all the dumb filters i slapped on these #spotify wrapped #my boards #music board

[wheresmynaya]

Hate to Date Ch.9 | Brittana

A/N - Lots to process, hey? I’ve been seeing in the reviews all the guesses of who will develop feelings first (& the few that are convinced they’ve already figured it out lol). It’s always interesting to see what y’all are thinking! Anyways, thanks for “tuning in” each Friday & thanks to those who have gifted me a coffee through ko-fi too. While I’m still in Lockdown 6.0, it’s really the little things that make a big difference. Until next time! 💙

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

“Okay,” Santana huffs as she turns to the blonde. “I know Artie’s your friend and you’ve got history and all but fuck that guy. Seriously, what the hell was that?”

Brittany nods along sadly, “I figured you’d say that once you met him.”

“God,” Santana shakes her head still coming down from wanting to cause bodily harm to him. “He really is a tool. Like the balls on him, complimenting you in front of your girlfriend. What a dick!”

“Yeah,” Brittany scratches at the back of her neck. “I told you he’s changed a lot.”

“You mean he used to be less of a dick at some point?”

“Surprisingly, yeah,” Brittany replies. “He won Most Brilliant Brainiac last year and now he thinks he’s God’s gift.”

Santana scoffs, “A gift that needs to be returned.”

“Stop,” Brittany scolds lightly. “He’s still my friend.”

“Well you sure know how to pick them.”

Brittany frowns and Santana instantly regrets uttering the words. Sometimes her mouth runs faster than her head can filter and by then it’s too late. Usually she wouldn’t feel bad about speaking so honestly but there’s something about the way Brittany pokes out her bottom lip like that that makes Santana falter.

“Sorry,” Santana says guiltily.

Brittany looks to Santana and nods, “I know he’s not the easiest person to get along with now, but he does have his moments.”

“Does he? I mean, what is the appeal?” Santana questions genuinely. “Because the personality is not a winner. I don’t even see him with a hot piece like me for arm candy.”

Brittany chuckles, “Yeah. I’m surprised about that too. I thought he would’ve brought two dates just to show off.”

Santana scrunches her nose in disgust, “It would take more than two dates to change my mind about him. Why does your team keep him around?”

“They love him. He’s so knowledgeable about so many things. He’s perfect for academic decathlons,” Brittany shrugs. “But I’m not sure how long it’ll last. He’s a great mentor but he’s gotten so critical of everyone, even me.”

“Especially you,” Santana corrects. She starts to feel heated all over again, “I can’t believe the way he spoke to you. Who the fuck does he think he is? Like sure, I can find you a little hard to swallow sometimes and it’s annoying how you’re just naturally great at so many things but I’d never say the things he did.”

“Honestly, I’ve heard worse things,” Brittany reasons. It sounds as though she’s trying to be lighthearted but the look on her face is anything but and that breaks Santana’s heart a little. “Artie’s criticism is nothing compared to what people used to say about me growing up.”

Santana frowns, “That doesn’t make it okay though. You know that, right?”

“It’s fine. I’ve got tough skin.”

“That’s not the point,” Santana sighs. “You shouldn’t have to take that kind of crap from anyone.”

“Sometimes you have to,” Brittany replies. “Sometimes you just have to take it and do the hard work in silence. Let the success speak for itself. Getting caught up in what everyone thinks is exactly how I lost my way before, so I’m not going to do it again.”

Santana shakes her head. She gets it – she really does – but it doesn’t make it any less okay.

These little glimpses of Brittany’s childhood really make Santana feel for her. She was fortunate enough to have parents and teachers who encouraged her studies – sometimes in an overbearing ways – but at least she had the support.

For Brittany, it seems like all odds were against her and for some twerp like Artie thinking he gets to be another one of those little voices making Brittany doubt herself really grinds Santana’s gears. He’s the worst kind of manipulative.

“It’s fine, really,” Brittany adds upon Santana’s silence. “I can take it when it’s coming from a friend.”

“Friend?” Santana laughs dismissively, “We’re not even friends and I’d never put you down like that.”

Brittany looks at her curiously and it makes Santana feel suddenly self conscious. Maybe her honesty has gotten her trouble yet again?

“Really?” Brittany asks.

Santana doesn’t hesitate, “Well yeah.”

Brittany’s shoulders ease a little and Santana takes that as a sign to continue.

“I was seriously this close to slapping him upside the head,” She says. “I may be many things and people may have occasionally called me a bitch from time to time, but even I wouldn’t stoop to the level he’s on. I wouldn’t put down my friend.”

Brittany’s brows rise, almost out of disbelief.

Santana wants to ask what that look is, but she’s a little nervous about the answer so instead she averts her attention to the dancefloor. She keeps her eyes roaming the crowd, avoiding meeting Brittany’s gaze.

“He’s just a little blunt,” Brittany attempts to reason again.

Santana shakes her head, “Whatever it is, you’re better off without him.”

Brittany sighs, “I just, I still care about him. I know I shouldn’t, but I don’t know. Have you ever felt that before? Wanting to hold out hope for someone to change?”

Santana’s anger dissipates for a second. Those words resonate with her and drudge up an unwanted memory. Has she ever felt the way Brittany does? The blonde has no idea…

Upon her silence, Brittany continues.

“You probably think I’m crazy but,” Brittany lets out a tired sigh. “Maybe I am. I just wish there was a way to bring back the real him – the one that took the time to show me around when I was new here. You know, the one who cared.”

Santana softens, because she knows the feeling all too well and it sucks big time.

“Don’t we all,” She mumbles.

Brittany looks to her, brows raised. Santana finds herself meeting Brittany’s gaze again and it’s like with one look at her the truth is impossible to hold back.

“How long do we have to suffer before we realize they’re not coming back though?” Santana asks. “What if that’s who they are now? This uncaring, unloving, unfazed ghost of a person we can’t even recognize anymore. That’s all we get and we’ve just got to deal with it and…and move on.”

Brittany looks at her curiously.

Santana averts her gaze to the crowd again, “Once again we have way too much in common for my liking.”

“What do you mean?”

Santana sighs, “I mean, you should just cut your losses now before it’s too late.”

Brittany smirks but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “Clearly you’ve never been in love before. It’s a bit harder than that. Not that this is love, I don’t know what this is.”

“It’s not love, that’s for sure.”

“Like you’d know,” Brittany jokes lightly.

Santana has the urge to laugh.

She’s almost forgotten that Brittany still doesn’t know that much about her past, because if she did she’d would know that Santana, of all people, knows what it’s like to be in love with someone you wish you weren’t.

“Well, I know it’s better to be told straight up about how you feel rather than to always wonder what went wrong or what could’ve been,” Santana finds herself saying. “But sometimes we don’t get that luxury. Maybe it’s just better to let it go and move on.”

“Or maybe he’ll finally snap out of it and see what he’s been missing now that I’m in this fake relationship with you.”

Santana’s surprised by Brittany’s honesty. The blonde looks surprised that it escaped her, but the two just stand there staring – trying to grasp the gravity of what they’ve both revealed.

Brittany’s using Santana to win over Artie; it’s almost laughable and yet, Santana can do nothing but stare in disbelief. She gets it though; she’s desirable, completely out of someone like Artie’s reach. Dating her would be enough to rattle anyone with eyes so it makes sense.

She knew Brittany was cunning, but it still surprises her. At least Santana’s reasoning for doing all of this has to do with her future, but Brittany? What’s Artie have to do with hers?

Santana scrunches her nose as her head starts filling in the blanks to that question. She pictures Artie in her place beside Brittany; them holding hands as they make their way to class, them making dumb googly eyes at each other at the library, them being this unstoppable power couple because of their success in academic decathlons.

It’s gross.

But who is she to pass judgement? She’s doing all of this because she couldn’t hold down a relationship to save her life, she’s in no position to judge Brittany’s.

And it’s not like this is the first time she’s been used like this before. Some of the girls she has been with only need her for a night, a way to get back at an ex or to make someone jealous. If anything, she’s become kind of an expert when it comes to being the middle-woman.

What’s the difference knowing Brittany’s doing the same? She supposes there isn’t one.

“Well, I guess I’ve found the real reason why you agreed to do this,” Santana says to fill the silence. As the words leave her, there’s an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Brittany looks away and replies, “I guess so.”

There’s a long pause where the two of them look anywhere but at each other. Santana’s gears are moving a mile a minute just trying to figure out the why of it all while Brittany’s – Brittany’s a mystery.

Santana glances back at her curiously, watching her profile and suddenly wanting to know more. How could someone be so blindly hopeful? Who knows if she’ll ever get that answer, but until then she still has to fulfill her obligation to Brittany tonight.

“Well, if this is what you really want to do then,” Santana pauses – trying to shake off the surprise and get back into the zone. Tonight’s about Brittany and being her perfect fake girlfriend and what Brittany wants, Brittany gets. “Then we’ve got to do this the right way. Really show him what he’s missing.”

Brittany quirks a brow, “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Guys like him always want what they can’t have,” Santana says simply. “It’ll be so easy.”

“And what do you suggest?”

Santana smirks, “Just follow my lead.”

\\

Santana’s lead ends up involving lots of flirting. Her goal was to help Brittany make Artie jealous, but she secretly kind of likes the uncomfortable look he gets anytime he happens to glance their way. He’s not so cocky and arrogant now!

It only gets worse when Brittany offers Santana a dance.

They find Mike and Tina again on the dancefloor and the couple waves to Santana and Brittany happily before getting lost in the music again. Santana and Brittany do the same, but it takes them a second before they find their synchronicity.

Afterall, this is their first time dancing together – things are bound to get a little awkward.

Thankfully, it’s all upbeat stuff – songs that are easy to groove to and they find their rhythm a couple songs in. The couple keeps it tame for the most part, almost forgetting what all of this is for, until they notice Artie watching again from a distance.

Brittany notices him first and starts dipping her hands lower and lower down Santana’s back, letting them settle low around her waist. It has Santana’s heart rate spiking until she catches on and starts letting her hands roam too.

“Poor guy,” Santana jokes when she catches sight of him. “He has no idea what he’s started.”

Brittany chuckles although she shakes her head, “It’s almost mean.”

“Fuck him,” Santana shrugs before turning her back to Brittany. She reaches back with one hand settling at the base of Brittany’s neck. “It’s his loss. Isn’t that the point of this?”

“You’re right,” Brittany nods. She leans into the crook of Santana’s neck, “His loss.”

Brittany then sets her hands on Santana’s hips, strong and steady, and pulls her in close so that their hips fit snuggly. It surprisingly tugs at something deep and dormant within Santana and she finds herself leaning into it, rolling her head back to rest against Brittany’s shoulder.

With the way Brittany’s rocking into her along with the beat, Santana has to bite her cheek to keep from making a noise. Who knew someone who spends most of their day in a musty library could move like this? Santana’s a little starstruck to say the least.

She can’t remember the last time she danced with someone like this and she starts to feel the effects of the alcohol and a tiny bit of desperation because it’s been such a long time. It’s actually sad how tightly she’s wound up. She’s sure she’d probably snap from just a touch which is so not her style, but she knows she’s not in the right kind of company to finally break.

She’s on the job; Brittany’s a job and there’s no time for mixing pleasure with work.

But damn, does it feel good when Brittany’s hands squeeze at her hips. Or when she rocks into her so smoothly along with the beat. Or how it sends shivers all over her when Brittany whispers into her ear – she’s not even saying anything risky but God it doesn’t matter.

And even if all of this is for show, Santana’s so deprived of this kind of affection that she doesn’t care – Brittany can use her all night if she wants.

Santana doesn’t begin to notice where her thoughts are taking her until she spots Artie wheeling away.

“He’s leaving,” Santana notes as she turns in Brittany’s embrace.

Brittany’s hands go to rest against the small of Santana’s back, “Do you think he gets the idea?”

Santana smirks and looks up at Brittany, “I think everyone gets the idea.”

A blush starts to bloom as blue eyes dart bashfully away, “Sorry. Was that too much? I was just following your lead like you said.”

“It’s fine. It’s the most action I’ve had in awhile,” Santana jokes.

Brittany gives her a unimpressed look but Santana’s smile only grows because of it.

The music shifts to something slow, old school Elvis. Santana recognizes the instrumental instantly; Maribel and Eddie’s first dance song. Honestly, it’s most couple’s first dance song – apparently you can’t get any more creative than Can’t Help Falling in Love.

She attempts to find her exit, but they’re surrounded by couples now. It would cause way too big of a scene to try and escape, so she goes with her only option. She lets Brittany take the lead and they start to sway.

Santana’s fingers thread at the back of Brittany’s neck while the blonde’s hands fall to Santana’s hips. They do the slow side-to-side move, but the sudden closeness has Santana feeling oddly shy. It’s bringing back memories of school functions and dancing awkwardly with dates she never wanted.

“You really miss it that much?” Brittany asks softly while they sway. “All the hook-ups?”

Santana sputters a laugh, unsure of how to respond, but one look at Brittany has her realizing that the blonde is genuinely asking. Her smile falters and she goes back to looking everywhere but inquisitive blue eyes.

“You gonna shame me for it again?” Santana asks jokingly.

She hates how quickly things between them can feel way too personal for her liking. Even more so, she hates how easy it’s starting to be to want to open up more around the girl.  

“No, I was just curious,” Brittany shrugs. “This probably isn’t what you’re used to doing at a place like this.”

“I’m not usually at places like this.”

“You know what I mean,” Brittany replies. “Parties or clubs or whatever. You wouldn’t be slow dancing with a potential lay. You don’t seem like that kind of girl.”

Santana scoffs playfully, “Well once again, you don’t know me at all. Slow dancing is my jam, it really gets the girls hot and bothered.”

Brittany quirks her brow, “Seriously?”

“Of course not,” Santana chuckles. “I’m usually out of there by the time the slow songs come on. They’re not my style.”

“Knew it.”

“But it’s not horrible,” Santana dismisses as they continue to sway. “I wouldn’t say slow dancing with you is at the top of my list of the worst things I’ve ever had to do.”

Brittany looks surprised, “Oh really?”

“It’s in the Top 5 for sure,” Santana jokes. “But it’s not number one.”

“You’re too kind,” Brittany jokes.

“I try. But hey – you’ve surprisingly got rhythm, Pierce!” Santana compliments. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a dancer.”

Brittany laughs, “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

Santana chuckles, “First the little thing you’ve got for Wheels and now this? I don’t think I can handle anymore surprises for the rest of night.”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “But you’re having fun?”

Santana shrugs, trying to be dismissive but her smile gives her true feelings away. She’s at a fancy place with great music and free alcohol looking fly as hell and one of her missions for the night is to piss off a chauvinistic douchebag – fun is an understatement.

“It’s not the kind of ragers I’m used to,” Santana teases. “But yeah – I’m having fun. Dancing with you is fun.”

Brittany’s face fills with a grin, “Yeah. I think dancing with you is fun too. It’s a bonus that Artie gets a little peeved as well.”

“That’s probably my favorite part,” Santana agrees and they continue dancing for a little while longer.

\\

Santana finds that messing with Artie is child’s play, but it’s oh so satisfying.

Santana and Brittany take turns pretending to whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ear once they get to their assigned table. They find it easy to giggle along with one another when their sweet nothings are really just lame pick up lines that would never work in real life. But they say it in these ramped up seductive voices and that makes it all the more hilarious.

Meanwhile, Artie sits across from them with a sourpuss look on his face.

Maybe they’ve gotten away from the point of all this – that being to make Artie jealous – or maybe it really is working? Whatever it is, Santana can’t find it in her to reel them back in, not when it’s this much fun.

\\

Dinner is served not too long after and Santana’s amazed once again by the spread. There’s giant cuts of filet mignon atop a colorful array of fresh Spring veggies. There’s oysters and huge lobster tails and extravagant towers of shrimp! The organizers clearly spared no expense with the menu and Santana excitedly awaits her dinner as the waitstaff start to come around to top up everyone’s wine glasses.

Santana watches as dishes are set down in front of everyone, all alternating between seafood and steak and the occasional vegetarian option. Everything looks so damn good and she glances next to her, wondering what Brittany will get.

“I ordered the shrimp,” Brittany tells her just as the plate is set down. “I got you the steak. I hope that’s okay? I wasn’t too sure.”

“Classy,” Santana nods as her plate is set down too. The garnishes make it look like artwork and she’s almost too afraid to touch it. “God, this looks so good. You didn’t mention there was free food too. This place is heaven.”

Brittany chuckles as she reaches for her cutlery.  

While everyone eats, there’s quiet chatter amongst the table.

Santana’s so glad that Mike and Tina are around, at least that’s one couple that she doesn’t mind. Most people are pretty pretentious – all I’m so much smarter than you because I know random shit about random shit – and it makes Santana want to roll her eyes so hard but she doesn’t for Brittany’s sake.

Unlike Santana, Brittany gets along well with everyone and somehow sees past the horrible personalities. That’s not too surprising considering how she feels about Artie though.

Then again, maybe Brittany was right about there being a nice guy underneath all that ego because when Artie does finally get to talking to her again – he’s not a dick. They talk excitedly about comics or something and Santana notes the way they both light up.

For once, there’s a glimpse of him being a decent human being and maybe – just maybe – Santana sees what Brittany does.

But he’s not off the hook just yet, not after the way he started off the night. She doesn’t want to rock the boat though, so she quietly eats her dinner and plays the role of perfect fake girlfriend just like she said she would. This night isn’t about her, it’s about Brittany and she’s going to do her best to keep it that way.

\\

A while later, dessert begins to be brought out as a few speeches are given up on stage. The announcer talks about the many prestigious teams in the room and how talented everyone is judging by their high percentages. Most of it goes over Santana’s head, not really interested in how academic decathlon clubs work but what does spark some interest though is when the awards start getting presented.

There’s a kind of anticipation that settles over the room and Santana looks around noting just how many clubs are in attendance. She had no idea academic decathlons were a thing until this year, but to see everyone so on edge as they await the reveal of this year’s winner really puts things into perspective for her.

When Santana glances to her side, she finds that Brittany’s got her eyes squeezed tight and her fingers are crossed on both hands. As she looks around the room, she sees club members look similarly – hoping and praying.

The Brainiacs happen to come in Second Place in the overall thing, but Brittany stands and claps along with everyone else despite things not going her team’s way. Santana watches her and smiles because this girl really is just so pure. Here she is clapping and pumping her fist in the air as the first place team take to the stage. Nothing about it is forced because she’s genuinely happy for them and that amazes Santana.

She didn’t think people like Brittany actually existed and yet there she stands.

\\

The lead up for presenting the award for Most Brilliant Brainiac is much more anticipated.

Santana looks around the room as it seems like everyone’s on the edge of their seat. It’s almost comical, because it’s basically an award for the biggest nerd in the room and these people actually want it.

Still, Santana listens quietly.

She notices Artie fixing his dumb bowtie and checking his teeth in the reflection of his silver spoon as if he already knows what’s coming. She so hopes he doesn’t win just because of that. She doesn’t care who it goes to, she doesn’t care if it’s an even bigger tool than him – if that’s even possible – all she cares about is watching the guy get the biggest reality check known to man.

Suddenly, she’s on the edge of her seat just like everyone else.

“This year the award goes to,” The announcer pauses for dramatic effect.

Santana’s still waiting for the name to be called out, but the spotlight shining directly beside her is answer enough.

“No way!” Brittany beams. She doesn’t know what to do with herself, she just looks from side to side making sure that the spotlight is on the right person. “Me? It’s me?”

“Come on up, Miss Pierce!” The announcer gestures proudly.

Their entire table turns to applaud. Santana notices Mike with the biggest grin on his face as he claps while Tina’s snapping picture after picture for her article.

Brittany’s in awe as she makes her way onto the stage, the crowd roaring with applause as she goes. When she gets to the podium, the man hands her a gold trophy shaped like a brain and then presents her to the room.

“Here she is, folks! This year’s Most Brilliant Brainiac! Give it up for Miss Brittany S. Pierce!”

Before she realizes it, Santana’s on her feet in a second and claps so hard her hands start to sting.

“That’s my girl!” She shouts and pumps her fist in the air.

Brittany must hear her from the stage because she ducks her head bashfully at the shout out, her cheeks going a little pink as she soaks in the applause.

Santana glances over at Artie who barely claps. She rolls her eyes at him, because he yet again shows his true colors. How he flies under the radar is a mystery to her, but Brittany’s not around to hold her back this time.

So she points a threatening finger at him and rubs a little salt in his ego.

“Take that, Professor X! You suck so bad!”

Artie looks a little scandalized, but he keeps his mouth shut as Brittany absorbs the limelight. She looks at her trophy like she can’t believe its hers and Santana swears she sees those pretty blue eyes start to well with tears. This time they’re happy tears though and Santana’s so relieved for that!

A moment later, Brittany’s making her way back to their table with her new trophy in hand.

“Look! It’s so heavy,” Brittany giggles as she shows off the award to Santana.

Santana smiles fondly. Only Brittany could be this proud about being the dorkiest dork in the room. She doesn’t know what it is about the way she looks, the way her eyes light up to match the brilliance of her smile, the way they seem to be even bluer than usual.

All she knows is that she can’t help but pull Brittany in for a deep kiss.

She can feel the way Brittany stiffens in her arms at first before relaxing – the kiss takes her by surprise too, she can only imagine what Brittany’s thinking.

Alarm bells ring but then she feels a cool hand touch her cheek and suddenly everything stops because she’s being kissed back.

Brittany’s kissing her back.

It’s soft and gentle and when Santana pulls away, she’s swears she sees stars.

All Santana’s thinking about is the way Artie spoke to Brittany earlier, how he scolded her like a child. She thinks about Brittany’s parents and how they never truly supported her until recently. She thinks about the stories Brittany’s told about her experiences in high school and her time at MIT. She thinks about how after all of that, Brittany’s still maintained her kindness.

Brittany’s better than her, she’s so much better than everyone here, and she doesn’t even know it.

And maybe Santana’s just really proud of her – that’s why she kissed her? Maybe she’s just really into her whole fake girlfriend role right now? Maybe she’s just super committed and she’s finally matched Brittany’s level of going above and beyond?

That’s got to be the explanation for it, because no way she’ll admit to it being anything else.

“I’m so proud of you,” Santana quickly says. “Way to stick it to those guys.”

Brittany blushes, “I really didn’t expect anyone to vote for me. I hope they’re not mad.”

“Fuck them if they are!” Santana retorts. “You worked so hard for this. If they can’t be supportive of you then they don’t deserve you as a teammate.”

Brittany relaxes upon hearing Santana’s words, “You mean that?”

Santana smiles and nods like it’s simple, “Well yeah. You’re a genius, Britt.”

Brittany grins again and looks down at her trophy bashfully, “I’m also Brilliant.”

“Yeah, that too,” Santana chuckles.

They go to take their seats when they realize everyone’s kind of staring at them still. Santana doesn’t care all that much, Brittany deserves the recognition. She finds a kind of joy in making sure she knows it too.

“Seriously though, congrats,” Santana tells her. “You really earned it.”

Brittany ducks her head before leaning closer and whispers low enough so only Santana can hear. The move makes Santana’s heart suddenly race as she’s reminded of their time on the dancefloor earlier.

“Is that you talking or my fake girlfriend?” Brittany asks.

Santana bites her lip as she ponders that. For the first time, it’s kind of hard to tell. This arrangement is like being on-call; you never know when they have to slip into character so now it’s second nature and maybe it’s finally starting to blur the lines which Santana didn’t think would ever be possible.

But just to be safe she says, “I’m a pretty good actress. Aren’t I?”

Brittany only smirks as they both start to giggle and admire her new trophy while Artie stews in his jealousy.

\\

They spend the rest of the Ball taking pictures with Brittany’s trophy for the school magazine and hitting the dancefloor once again.

Obviously, the dancing is the best part and by now everyone’s got a good buzz going with the amount of booze in the place. It’s surprisingly a good time – one of the best Santana’s had in months and it’s even more surprising that it’s in Brittany’s company.

If you would’ve told her at the start of the semester that this is where she’d be right now, she wouldn’t have believed you at all. Never in a million years would she be caught dead in a place like this, but it’s funny how things change – how relationships evolve.

Just tonight, she walked into this Ball wondering if she even stood a chance up against Brittany’s wrath. She really messed up, she knows that, but all of this is new territory for her. She’s not used to looking out for anyone else other than her family and Puck, but she’s starting to get it now.

If Brittany was anyone else, Santana probably wouldn’t have cared about her hurt feelings the other night. She would’ve let the girl go without a second thought because who has time to put up with the drama, but this relationship has her doing a lot of things she normally wouldn’t.

It’s reintroducing her to things that have been long forgotten and Santana doesn’t really know how to feel about that. It’s drudging up the old Santana; the vulnerable, the gullible, the sensitive one who has no place here now.

It’s a lot more than she signed up for, but she supposes it’s only natural to have those feelings start to resurface again when they’re both so committed to playing their roles perfectly. If anything, it’s a reminder that once upon a time Santana really was perfect girlfriend material.

And tonight, she gets to live out that little memory.

Maybe if her heartbreak didn’t harden her, maybe this is what she’d be like? Maybe she’d actually date a girl like Brittany? Maybe she’d stop selling herself short just like Puck said? Maybe she’d stick around long enough for something real to happen?

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

It always takes Santana by surprise that when she gets to thinking like this, it’s always in the presence of Brittany. This girl; Santana knew being with her would be a challenge but not like this. She can’t hold it against her though, after all this is her idea and really it could be so much worse than what it is.

They don’t really owe each other anything, they’re just pawns in their elaborate games – but here they are dancing the night away without a care in the world and for once things feel fine.

It’s a nice break from all that heaviness from earlier.

And for a moment, Santana doesn’t think it’s all too bad. The whole possibility of being friends with Brittany thing; when it’s like this, it really isn’t the worst thing ever.

She might actually kind of like it.

Other than Puck, Santana doesn’t really have that many people she’s close with. She doesn’t have many people she’d consider friends. For the past two years, maybe even longer, she’s kept people at an arm’s length.

After everything, she’s just not into getting close to anyone anymore. Letting people into her shit sounds like a lot of work and kind of terrifying.

What if they don’t like what they find? What if she’s too much? What if they decide to leave too? What if it changes her again?

It’s too big of a risk. It’s best that she does the leaving instead. It’s the only way she can keep some type of control on things, because no way she’ll let anyone go for a joyride with her feelings again.

She likes to keep her circle small, but being around Brittany starts to make her wonder. What’s the harm in trying?

A thought like that makes her laugh though; that hopefulness is a direct result of hanging around Brittany way too much.

“It’s so hot in here! Why’s it so hot?” Brittany sighs and wipes at her brow with the back of her hand. Her cheeks are flushed and sweat glistens in the hollow of her neck deliciously.

Santana averts her eyes when she realizes she’s staring.

“You’re dancing up a storm, that’s why!” Santana teases.

“Because it’s so much fun!” Brittany does a twirl then starts to sway when she stops. “The dizziness…not so much.”

“Maybe don’t spin around like that?” Santana suggests playfully. “You want to go outside? Get some air?”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Brittany nods but just before she follows after Santana she runs back to the table. “Mike! Mike, watch my trophy!”

Mike drunkenly nods and gives her a thumbs up.

“Thanks! Okay, let’s go,” Brittany tells Santana and leads the way out.

They end up going to the grand steps Santana walked up earlier in the night and take a seat by one of the columns. The air is crisp and refreshing compared to the stuffiness inside and it’s such a relief. They rest their heads back and soak it in.

“You see Artie’s face when I won?” Brittany giggles.

Santana smirks, “Oh yeah. That prick; I was hoping he’d lose. Makes it even better that it was to you.”

“I know I shouldn’t think it but,” Brittany pauses to take in a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh. “I’m glad he lost too. Maybe it’ll bring him down a notch.”

Santana chuckles, “Hopefully it’ll bring him down a few notches. That guy is a piece of work. I still can’t believe you’re into him.”

Brittany ducks her head and sighs again as they fall into a comfortable silence.

Even if Brittany doesn’t show it, Santana can feel something’s gone unsaid.

They haven’t talked about the kiss from earlier, but maybe there’s nothing that they need to talk about? They’re out in public, it goes without saying that they have to do what normal couples would – like kiss when your girlfriend wins an award.

Why would they need to talk about it? It’s not like it was the first time they’ve ever done that. Then again, when Santana gets to thinking – the last time was New Year’s Eve.

Maybe Santana’s just overthinking it all? This is why she doesn’t do relationships or feelings – real or not! They’re confusing and annoying and she doesn’t want it.

God, she wishes she was on Brittany’s level of tipsy. That would make things so much easier!

“You know when we were talking before, you said that we’ve got too much in common,” Brittany mentions awhile later. She keeps her eyes turned up to the sky as she asks, “What’d you mean by that?”

The question takes Santana by surprise as she tries to remember their conversation from earlier. When she does, she wishes that she didn’t. It’s not a subject she loves talking about, nor does she love revisiting its memories, but for some odd reason she can feel her safeguard wavering.

“I guess I was in your place once with Artie,” Santana replies. “Sort of.”

“You were into him too?”

Santana chuckles at the joke, “No way. I mean, I fell for someone I shouldn’t have.”

“What happened?”

Santana pauses, wondering if she wants to go down this road. The only other person she’s ever talked about all this to is Puck and that’s only because he was partly involved. She’s done her best to bury every feeling, every memory, but there’s something about Brittany that has Santana opening up just a little more.

“There was a girl a long time ago,” Santana finds herself saying before glancing Brittany’s way. “The one from the picture in my room back in Lima.”

Brittany nods and quietly encourages her to continue.

“She was my best friend growing up,” Santana says. “The only one who ever understood me. We were close, closer than friends should be. Eventually, I wanted to be more – make things official.”

“You?” Brittany asks in disbelief.

“I know, shocking,” Santana jokes through a sad smile. “She said she wanted it too, but she was afraid. She wanted to keep things hidden, keep us hidden, and I…I loved her so I followed along.”

Santana feels her chest tighten with that long-forgotten pain, but then Brittany’s hand finds hers. She squeezes softly at her hand and suddenly the feeling isn’t so bad.

“She kept saying one day it’ll be different,” Santana goes on. “One day we won’t have to hide, one day we’d just run off together, but until then we had to pretend. It sounded like a good plan and I felt so strongly about her, so I waited. I watched her get into relationships with guy after guy just to keep people off of our scent, off of her scent.”

“The older we got, the further in the closest she went. It was like she forget that it was all a cover and the life she was living was a lie.”

Brittany nods sympathetically.

“I ended up coming out midway through our Junior year,” Santana says. “I thought that maybe if I went first then she’d see that it was okay, but it kind of had the opposite effect. Something happened, maybe her parents divorce or something else? I don’t know, but she changed and not in a good way. I was out and proud but it was hard when the girl I loved wasn’t. It kind of felt pointless but I kept waiting for her.”

“By Senior year, I started to lose hope. I guess she did too because it stopped being about us running off together. Instead it was only her doing the running,” Santana continues. “While everyone was making their big plans for college, she was a mystery.”  

She starts to feel that annoying lump in her throat forming and swallows it back.

“All I knew was that she was getting out of Lima by any means necessary,” She says with a deep sigh. “She was so closed off though, spiraling even. I had no idea what her plans were anymore. No one did. I just didn’t think that it involved stealing my shot at a scholarship.”

“Wait, what?” Brittany frowns. “What scholarship?”

“My school had this partnership with Harvard,” Santana answers half-heartedly. “An alumni or whatever is a big wig there and has this scholarship aimed at students with extraordinary promise in law. It’s such a waste, really. No one usually goes for it because no one ever dreams of getting out of there nor would they dare go to law school, but getting out of Lima was always our dream. With her family background, she could get in easy but me? It was a little harder. That scholarship was my only shot and she took it.”

“How’d she do that?”

Santana shrugs, “It’s always been a mystery. Out of the entire school, we were the only ones who even cared enough to look into it. We agreed before that with my GPA and personal goals that I’d have the better chance of getting it, but that was before things changed. It’s no coincidence that she got in and not me. I ticked every box when it came to the type of candidate they were looking for.”

“You couldn’t tell the organizers about it?” Brittany asks. “Have them kick her out or something?”

Santana sighs, “I couldn’t do that to her.”

“Why not? Santana, that’s seriously unfair. This is your education, something you’re so passionate about.”

“I know,” Santana answers dejectedly. “Believe me, I know. But, I was young and in love and stupid. I still had hope for some reason, hope that she’d snap out of it? I knew she took her parents divorce really hard and things had changed for her in terms of getting into Harvard with their help. Maybe she needed the scholarship more than me?”

“Even so, that’s not the way to go about it. That’s not fair to you.”

“True,” Santana nods. “But a part of me figured that maybe once she got in and got settled, she’d be okay? Maybe we’d be okay again. Maybe getting out of Lima was something she needed way more than I did? I guess I was wrong though.”

Brittany looks to Santana apologetically but Santana hates that look. She hates being seen as anything but confident and sure and unwavering.

“See? Told you I’m not selfish,” Santana tries to joke to ease the tension.

It doesn’t really change the way Brittany watches her though.

“Yeah, I guess you were right.”

“Surprise,” Santana lets out a weak chuckle as she averts her gaze. “It sure did backfire though. Huh?”

“Have you heard from her since?” Brittany asks. “Did she ever apologize?”

“Hell no,” Santana tries to laugh off the pain. “She didn’t even stick around for our graduation ceremony. She just packed up and left. No goodbye or anything.”

“Wow,” Brittany shakes her head. “How could someone who’s supposed to care about you hurt you like that?”

Santana finds herself smirking as she looks to Brittany. She has no idea she’s in the same sort of situation with Artie. It’s always easier making sense of things when it isn’t your problem though she supposes.

“Anyway, it’s whatever,” Santana waves off. “It’s been two years and I still wonder why the hell I gave up a Harvard education for a girl. Love makes you do dumb shit, it’s the worst.”

Brittany goes to squeeze Santana’s hand again, “I’m so sorry, Santana.”

Santana keeps on her brave face, “It’s fine.”

“It isn’t.”

Santana knows, but she just shrugs. What’s the point of feeling sorry for herself now?

“I guess what I was meaning earlier is that,” Santana continues. “Maybe this thing between you and Artie; it’s better for you in the long run if you spare yourself the heartache and accept that people change. Sometimes it’s for the worst and you can’t do a thing about it. It is what it is, you know? You can wait but it’s only wasting your time in the end – take it from me.”

Brittany nods and they both rest back against the column again, sitting in each other’s company in silence. It’s like Brittany’s taking in all that Santana has said while Santana attempts to pack up all those little memories she’s just drudged up and stuff them away.

“People change for the better too though,” Brittany mentions quietly. “Sometimes all that patience and time you put into waiting ends up being worth it.”

“Maybe,” Santana nods. “I just don’t know how to be that optimistic anymore. I’m too tired.”

“I get that,” Brittany replies and leans her head against Santana’s.

Santana finds herself leaning against Brittany too, relaxing against each other in a peaceful balance. Another comfortable silence settles over them and Santana’s thankful for it. After opening up to Brittany, she doesn’t think she can handle anymore of these heart to hearts.

Another reason she keeps to herself, talking about feelings is exhausting.

“You know…I didn’t say it before because I was still kind of mad at you,” Brittany mentions softly. “But I’m glad you changed your mind about tonight. I’m glad you’re here.”

Santana smirks, feeling a giddiness flutter in her chest that chases off the remaining heaviness there. “Yeah well, picturing you suffer here all alone with these losers wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. Thought I’d come see it for myself.”

Brittany snickers and pokes lightly at Santana’s side.

“Sounds like you might be taking a liking to me,” Brittany teases.

Santana scoffs playfully, “God no.”

“I mean, if you really wanted me to suffer you could’ve worn something that would make you look a little less…”

Santana glances over to find Brittany stumbling on the right word. The hesitance makes her smirk.

“Hot? You were going to say hot.”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “I wasn’t.”

“Sure,” Santana teases. “You can admit it, Britt-Britt. You think I look fine as hell.”

Brittany shakes her head although she begins to blush. “You always this full of yourself?”

“You should know the answer to that by now,” Santana quips as she rises to stand. She strikes a sexy pose while Brittany continues to sit before her. “Come on. Would you really rather I turn up here looking a hot mess? I wouldn’t be doing a very good job of being arm candy.”

Brittany’s eyes rake up Santana’s body, taking in all her perfection. Just like the powers of her cheerleading skirt, Santana’s dress works wonders all the same.

“I guess not,” Brittany admits.

Santana grins, “That’s what I thought.”

“But you’re not just arm candy to me,” Brittany teases sweetly.

Santana instantly rolls her eyes and holds out her hand to Brittany, “Let’s get back in there. I think it’s time for another drink. I can still taste your Chapstick from earlier.”

Brittany giggles as Santana pulls her up, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

#Hate to Date #Brittana #Brittana Fanfiction #Enemies to Lovers #Fake Dating AU

[bymoonchild]

Sugarplum Elegy (M)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, FWB!AU, Soundcloud singer!AU, Idiots to Lovers!AU Warnings | Explicit language, hopeless and helpless pining, constipated feelings, lots of smut, rimming, cum-eating, spitting, blowjob, fingering, classroom sex, Jungkook is emotionally constipated but wbk  Summary | You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while.

Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

Word count | 17.9k

There’s no greater testament to love than love itself – the sheer vulnerability of being bound to someone emotionally and physically, and the aching process that bleeds into infinity. To love in every sense of the word is to offer your entire heart and place it on someone's bare hands, despite knowing that they might crush it in front of your very eyes.

Maybe love is like a dandelion, pretty during the summer mornings, but upon a huge gust of wind, its petals will be blown away, leaving its heart barren, abandoned. Given your past relationships, forming a fresh new ache and vulnerability for yet another person frightens the fuck out of you.

So when you wake up to a Jeon Jungkook beside you, lulled by the quiet sound of his breathing, your heart fizzles in your chest. It’s a no-strings-attached agreement that you two have decided on at the beginning of the year, but it’s still a feeling you can’t quite get accustomed to, especially when the first thing you see in the morning is his peaceful sleeping face, unless he’s spooning you, in which his warm breath will tickle the back of your nape. It’s weird because it feels nice, feels so right.

It's been six months since you two started the whole fuckbuddy agreement, yet you still can't get used to how warm Jungkook is, always so warm, as if the sun has chiselled its way into every single pore of your body, softening and melting your sharp edges. While his body still sends zaps down your spine, your mind registers that you’ve grown to adore the heat of his body when your cold feet always find themselves tangled together with his under the sheets.

He’s not much of a morning person, but sometimes, you’d wake up to him staring at you, caressing every detail of your face with his eyes, sunlight glittering golden in them, and smiling like a fool (an adorable one at that) at your groggy and sleepy self, as though your crusty morning face turns him on because it often leads to the continuation of the previous night’s copulation before scrambling to class.

You know no bounds nor depth with Jeon Jungkook. If anything, you’ve concluded that you’ve never met a person quite like him before, like the cosmos has moved for this concurrence to be possible.

Each new day brings a discovery about your fuckbuddy which keeps you on your toes, but nothing can ever beat the dorky Jungkook who becomes a freak in the sheets as he pounds mercilessly into you or pulls your hair as he buries himself deep inside the hilt of your throat. Nothing beats the feeling of having his warm body pressed up against yours as he whispers sweet nothings that caress and fan against your skin like invisible marks that will always be there, burning from deep within.

You hear Jungkook humming softly from behind you, comfortably settled on your bed while you’re hacking away at your laptop, rushing to finish your paper. You normally can’t work with noise or with another person in the room, but his humming falls quite pleasantly on your ears.

“Bub, you almost done?”

You turn around and spot Jungkook in only a pair of sweatpants, flaunting the ripples of his toned chest and abdomen. You have no idea why he even bothers wearing pants when you both know that he’s going to take off them later.

“Getting a little impatient, Pingu?”

A little pout plays on his lips, “No, it’s just that… You’ve been at it for hours and I’m kind of sleepy.”

“O-Oh, have you been you waiting for me? Why don’t you get ready first?”

“Actually, I thought we could, you know, just sleep tonight,” he smiles sheepishly, the curve of his cheek squished from where he is lying down on his pillow.

“You mean like…?”

“You’re tired, aren’t you?”

You don’t reply, merely shrugging your shoulders, but the bags under your eyes are an easy giveaway.

“Then hurry finish your work and get your ass here. My arms are kind of lonely here and it’s cold.”

You can’t deny that Jungkook looks so gorgeous, so tempting, waiting for you with that familiar tender gleam in his eyes as he pats down at the empty spot beside him.

“You’re cold? But you’re literally my personal heater,” you laugh, tinges of amusement dancing in your orbs, as you relent, slipping under the sheets beside him.

Chuckling softly, he leans in and ensures that there’s as little space between your bodies as possible from head to toe, until the tip of his nose is brushing against yours. He playfully throws a leg over yours, pressing the strong cleave of his chest up against you and his body heat immediately engulfs you, sated and warm.

You feel like there’s a fire in you, made of soft, satin embers.

You smile, looking up at Jungkook’s pretty visage. Your night lamp casts a dim shadow on his face that insinuates his long, feather-like eyelashes, brushing the bone of his structured cheeks. He holds back smiling like the fool he is, busy drinking in the sight of you and the closeness of you, but that roseate flush that blooms over his face betrays his heart’s desire, spreading across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. Pretty.

If stars could take human form, they’d look a lot like Jungkook.

“Want to hear a bed pun that Jin-hyung bombed on us today?”

You hum in response.

“Never mind,” he shrugs, his eyes starting to crinkle up at the corners “It’s kind of sheety.”

“I fucking hate you!” You let out a whole-hearted laugh, doubling over to shove a pillow at Jungkook’s chest, “Don’t know why I put up with your dumb ass.”

“You love my dick!”

And Jungkook is one hundred per cent correct.

He likes to sleep naked, which is something you don’t have a problem with. At least he has the decency to throw on a pair of briefs, but it doesn’t particularly help cover with his morning woods.

You’re about to leave for class, but something uncontrollable and searing stabs at your belly when your eyes land on his taut, golden stomach, the faint line of hair trailing south towards the Calvin Klein imprint and the noticeable boner pressing against it.

As the soft light filters in through your curtains, casting shadows on the gentle slopes of Jungkook's face, a tempting idea pops into your mind and you drop your bag onto the floor, crawling right back into bed.

Jungkook is a guy who adores surprises and you’re someone who likes catering to his interests, though what you adore most is catching him totally off-guard and watching him writhe helplessly under you, for all the times you woke up to him in between your thighs. You find joy in taking care of him as your mouth takes the reigns, slobbery and messy with saliva dribbling down your chin.

Pushing the quilt away off the bed, your eyes take their time to map his body, before your fingers start to trace down the line of hair leading towards his clothed cock. You lean forward to press a kiss to the muscular ridges of his taut abdomen, and then down his happy trail, before slowly mouthing over his bulge and lastly, to his toned, honeyed thighs.

Fuck, you love his thighs – in fact, you've spent too many nights thinking about riding them and keening out loud when he makes your fantasies come true.

His cock springs free when you tug his briefs down and its stiffness almost hits you in the face. He's as rigid as always, tip angry and glossy with arousal and veins prominent in his shaft and you take a few seconds to admire the veins that artistically run up his length like rivers along a woodland. You love his dick, nobody has stroke game like Jungkook and you’ve never been more exhilarated when condoms were thrown out of the picture after you two agreed to be exclusive.

When you wrap your hand around his dick, the soft skin feels like velvet, enticing you to press an open-mouthed kiss to the tip. Body still weighted from sleep, Jungkook's breath involuntarily hitches when you settle in a slow rhythm, hand wrapping around the base of his dick, moving it in tandem with the bobbing of your head.

Slowly, he begins to stir awake at your ministrations, hand bringing up to rub his eyes unconsciously. When he manages to peel his eyes apart and looks down at you through the tops of his eyes, with his dick in your mouth, he groans loudly.

“Morning, Pingu.”

Coyly, you duck your head, running your tongue along the side of Jungkook’s shaft, keeping a firm grip around the base. When you return to the tip, you suckle hard with your lips, lapping over the slit feverishly. You relish the weight of his warm dick in your mouth and it’s when Jungkook starts to pant heavily with eyes rolled all the way back, his muscles straining as he rolls his hips upwards for more that you know you’ve succeeded.

“Fuck,” he knots his fingers through the dark tufts of your hair in pleasure, “I’d kill to wake up to this every day.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day.”

Leaning backwards, you pull Jungkook’s legs up higher and spread open them. You give his ass a little slap before further spreading his asscheeks and he jumps in shock when you spit obscenely into his ass.

Right after you got into the agreement, you two discussed each other’s kinks. You’ve always thought rimming was hot and Jungkook was eager to experiment with you, saying that it’s literally every guy’s dream come true to have his ass eaten out.

Your first lick is a broad strip from his perineum to his entrance, stopping there to suckle lightly at his rim. The contact sends trembles to course throughout Jungkook’s body and he gasps out shamelessly, closing his thighs instinctively and trapping your head between them. When your tongue laps at his tight, little tunnel, pressing little kisses to his rim, he arches his back out of his reaction, eyes clouded with lust.

You can’t help but tighten your fingers around his ass, kneading it greedily as drool and spit drip from the corner of your lips. At this, his mouth falls open in soundless moans, soft whimpers drawn from the back of his throat, muscles rippling beneath his skin.

Jungkook tastes better than you remember, though the only thing you can focus on is how helpless he is writhing underneath you and the protrusion of his arm veins as he clutches the sheets firmly from the interminable sensation.

You see his hand reach out for his dick that's throbbing between his thighs, aching for any kind of friction. The darkness in his eyes is enough to send a punch of heat straight into the pit of your gut.

"Touch yourself and you can say goodbye to coming,” you slap his hand away.

He throws his head in frustration, eyes shut and lips red and parted, "But–"

"Let me help you."

A growl is ready at the back of his throat when you lightly scrape your teeth on his rim, spit dripping down your chin, trailing past his balls and down to your bedsheet. Laundry Senpai would be out for a field day.

While your tongue continues to lick at his rim, back to his balls and then to the very tip of his dick, your right hand finds itself wrapped around the thick girth of his dick, finally giving it some attention. You begin to milk him, stroking him again and again and helping him to chase his orgasm. Perched on either side of your face, Jungkook feels his legs grow weak as you continue to jerk him off, revelling in each wanton sigh and moan that slips from your lips.

Out of pleasure or lack of control, you don’t oppose when his hips start to rut against your face as he chases his high. Instead, you slacken your jaw and lap at his puckered hole faster, prodding at his entrance with the tip of your tongue, knowing that he isn’t going to last much longer.

When Jungkook finally comes, you lap at his cock thirstily, taking in every drop of cum. He looks so fucked out, chest heaving up and down as globs of white cover your lips and chin, but you continue to lick the cum, swirling around his head. You gaze up at Jungkook and sees that lower lip is slightly swollen from where he’d been biting down on it, slightly red, and you desperately yearn to feel the soft and warm skin beneath the pad of your finger.

He pats your hair with a dreamy smile and your heart stutters at the way his eyes crinkle so prettily no matter how gently he’s smiling.

Your room is suspended in a beautiful haze, the morning air sitting like a blanket around you two, alongside the sounds of your breathing.

“Cute,” you whisper, pressing little kisses along the length of his dick.

Heat ruptures across Jungkook’s face, a visible flush radiating on his rounded, apple cheeks, and works its way to the bridge of his nose.

“You did not just call my dick cute,” he raggedly inhales.

“Shit, I gotta run – have class in like,” you ignore his complaint, checking your watch, “Fuck, 20 minutes.”

“Hey, take it back! My dick is not cute,” he puffs, folding his arms.

“Dude, I legit just woke you up with a blowjob and this is the thanks I get.”

“Just kidding…” He smiles sheepishly, taking your hand into his, “So I’ll see you tonight? We’re having dinner at the new Italian place, right?”

“Of course, can’t wait to watch you have an overdose of cheese.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes playfully, but the glint in his eyes screams that he can’t wait.

“Anyways, you better get up – you’re going to be late for your 11am.”

“I’m skipping,” his lips curl up into a smirk and even in his sleepy state, he still knows how to be a brat, “Gotta help Yoongi-hyung with something.”

"You're up to something no good, huh?”

With a sparkle in his eye, he smiles, "That I am."

You chuckle and press your hand against Jungkook’s cheek, fingers brushing against the scar on his cheekbone, intending to pinch his cheek, but he beats you to it and quickly turns his face into the curve of your palm. He then presses a kiss to it, painting his smile against the wrinkles of your skin and your heart ricochets in your chest.

“I—See you, Pingu.”

Another sleepy bunny smile adorns the stretch of his lips, “See you later.”

You don’t realise that you’ve been carrying a smile on your face ever since you left your apartment until your friend Jiyoon breaks you out of your trance by telling you that you look like a clown. Waking up to Jungkook by your side is such a domestic concept and honestly, that should intimidate you. Instead, all you feel is a blooming of butterflies in your stomach.

There are several traits and abilities of Jungkook’s that he prides himself on. He’s intelligent in a lot of ways and in some ways not. He’s socially aware and knows when to be quiet or loud. Yet, he has always assumed an air of detachment and aloofness, making people and sometimes even himself believe that he has an extra layer of skin, invisible and almost impenetrable.

He is, nevertheless, just a little shier with his words and doesn’t open up easily. Even when he does, he still walks on seashells around his closest of friends. He can’t help it – it’s just his nature and who he is. However, people who know him should know that he’s all bark and no bite. He’s much softer than he looks – and his heart is fragile and afraid.

Admittedly, he is a hopeless romantic at heart although the pursuit of pure, unconditional love is found dead in a ditch and he will rather die than admit that he still believes that he’ll hear bells when he crosses path with his soulmate.

Now with you in the picture, he really doesn’t know anymore. It’s unclear how this arrangement started, it’s a nebulous concurrence of fate… alongside the need to fulfil sexual desires with no strings attached.

You two met at a school event through Yoongi, your friend who’s a music production major and also the campus radio DJ, and while the three of you hung out a couple of times, you’ve never really established a friendship with him.

It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment where it all started – how you fell into each other like this, how you grew to become addicted to the crash of his body against yours, fitting into the little crooks of each other’s life. It worked so well the first time that the second time was kind of a given and soon, both of you came to some sort of unspoken agreement that the next time you come into contact would result in both tangled in bed.

So there isn’t such an exact moment when things unavoidably shifted in your life and trying to find the exact moment that unchained everything would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. It’s just that you can’t quite remember sex feeling so good with anyone else.

Still, you wouldn’t count on him being entirely transparent with you.

He’s still an enigma, never quite settling, and consequently, neither could your so-called agreement. The line has blurred far too much for comprehension. But it’s simply the beautiful contradictions that make Jungkook so Jungkook, someone you may never quite understand, but desperately want to, from somewhere deep in your bones. All you know is that your heart somehow lurches whenever he’s near, that his gaze still makes you shy especially when you’re under him at his mercy, and that re-watching (yet) another Marvel film with him on your bed brings comfort to your heart.

It’s not fair how Jungkook can make you feel like you’re six feet under what you assume must be somewhere between lust and adoration, when he says the dumbest of things like, “96% of guys masturbate.”

“Then what about the other 4%?”

He deadpans with a casual shrug of his shoulders, “The other 4% don’t have hands.”

You throw a pillow at his smug face, but even if he says the dumbest things, you like to listen to the timbre of his voice, how it rolls over the vowels like honey smothering biscuits. You should hate the way he makes you bare your neck so easily, makes you quiver and tremble at the slightest touch, yet your stomach still coils no matter how hard you try to push away the hummingbird heart residing in your chest.

“I don’t know why I even tolerate you.”

“Thanks, love you too.”

Questionable words like these have been thrown around casually, the harrowing weight often settling uneasily in both of your stomachs. Too many unspoken words fill the air and they’ve been lingering in the air for some time now. While it’s undeniable that you two share something, where feelings are mutually understood without having to say much, life isn’t a bed of roses and things will happen when the universe wants them to.

“Noted with thanks.”

Staying over wasn’t initially part of the deal in fear of jeopardising the friendly arrangement, but as time goes by, when sex becomes a daily thing and Jungkook starts coming over more often and later in the night, breaching the fuck buddy etiquette starts to matter less.

The dick appointments are always at your place because he proclaims that he loves your bed and it’s ten folds comfier than his. You can’t seem to fathom why because you find his bed equally comfortable to sleep on and it probably smells much nicer than yours, mixed with the brew of his musky scent and peach shampoo.

Now, almost half of the things in your apartment belong to him including his favourite fabric softener, just because he can. He makes sure that he’s over every Friday at least to do laundry and has even persuaded you to entrust all laundry duties. Friends with benefits etiquette? Not in this household.

You smile at the toothbrush holder, before picking out yours, which has its place next to Jungkook’s red one. It’s just moments like these where you know that he’s undoubtedly carved himself a rightful space in your life like there was a space reserved just for him. Becoming a constant beyond the late-night dick appointments and one of your best friends, someone you text and exchange dank memes with on a daily basis. Someone you trust.

You adapt to him quickly, and he accepts you unconditionally. In an odd way, it’s like he’s always meant to be by your side. It’s like the cosmos knew. And slowly, it’s as if he’s never gone and the mutual fear of overstaying your welcome or the fear of letting yourself get too comfortable with each other has dissipated. Now, it gets harder not to think about how his cologne tends to rub off on you even hours after sex and it gets harder to ignore the mixture of scents that lingers in your room.

Stepping out of the shower, you hum quietly to yourself and see Jungkook engrossed in playing a game on his phone. When you continue to hum, Jungkook drops his phone and stares at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“W-What are you singing?”

You chuckle, “Whoa, was I that bad?”

His face is a chiaroscuro, the right side illuminated from the lamplight, the left in soft shadow. But there’s something indescribable about his expression that you can’t seem to decipher as he stares at you guardedly.  

“N-No! I’m just ¬– what song is that?”

“It’s Euphoria,” you dismiss him casually, “By GCF. He’s a new Soundcloud singer whom I just discovered the other day. Heard of him before?”

“E-Er, no?”

“What’s with your reaction?”

“N-Nothing! I-It’s a nice song I guess.”

You beam, “Yeah, I think he just started his singing career, but I really like his voice. Makes me feel all soft inside.”

“Soft, huh?” A teasing smirk inches its way onto the edges of Jungkook’s lips, “I thought you only like listening to rap music.”

“Geez, can’t I have a diverse taste in music?”

“No.”

“Bitch,” you roll your eyes in faux annoyance, “Remind me to send you some of his music.”

“I-It’s fine… I can just search it up myself.”

You grab your phone, ready to unlock it, “No wait, let me just play his song—”

Whatever you’re about to say is lost when Jungkook reaches for you and cuts you off with a kiss. Heat sinks low in your belly when he catches your lower lip and tugs at it roughly. He rests his hands onto the tapers of your waist, before going south to cup over the curve of your ass, causing you to drop your phone on the bed. A deep spike of pleasure pulses in his abdomen when your eyes widen, a soft sound passing through your lips that only he has the privilege of hearing.

That night, the sex is a little different.

Jungkook roams languid kisses everywhere – your lips, jaw, the column down your throat, clavicles and down the valley of your breasts and you let him trace love notes all over your skin.

It’s a feeling that you two are used to. The sound of his pants being unzipped as he unravels you, your tongue feeling heavy with his. The crescent marks of your nails on Jungkook’s back as he thrusts into you with unbridled ardour, never losing eye contact with you. The breathy praises on your skin till it’s almost scalding, like pure propulsions of energy looping into stellar spaces, burnished suns flaring radiant.

Jungkook coaxes sounds out of your mouth like he’s tugging at your heartstrings, drawing out symphonies and melodies trapped beneath your tongue, until the room echoes with a mixture of curses and moans, until there’s nothing but Jungkook and only him on your mind.

You don’t fall asleep immediately that night.

While Jungkook’s face is tucked into his pillow, lips slightly parted, and breaths calm and soft against your sheets, you comb your fingers through his hair, liking how his locks feel soft like rose petals between your fingers.

When dawn arrives and slowly paints the world a pale rose and the noise of the city is muted outside, you bury your face into the dips of his shoulder blades as your mind continues to swirl, absorbing Jungkook and everything about him. How he smells like the smell of clean linen and peach, a light musk that sits heavy and familiar, how you can’t shake the phantom smell of Jungkook’s cologne on your skin.

In all honesty, it hurts. You’ve never felt this susceptible to someone’s gaze or touch and it fills you with nothing but with further want for him.  

Friends with benefits aren’t meant to be like this. They aren’t supposed to have such tenderness laced into every touch. But the thing is, you’re well aware that you don’t just treat Jungkook as just a fuckbuddy, not when your body reacts to his touches like this, not when static seems to build beneath your bones every time he smiles at you with stars coruscating in his eyes.  

There are times you’ve thought about how maybe, just maybe he feels something different about you, like the way you feel about him, but you’re probably projecting your own feelings onto him, so you dismiss it without further thought.

You could make a home in the hollow of his hold. But for now, you’d just let the rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest lull you to sleep.

[you] [16:35] hello are you open for business today [16:36] i would like to make a dick appointment

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [16:36] hi yes, welcum [16:36] we have a slot from 8pm all the way till 9am the next morning [16:37] we provide dinner too. any preference?

[you] [16:37] i would like some nuggets with a Dick on the side [16:37] mega upsize for the Dick please  

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [16:37] Large size it is. okie dokies your reservation has been confirmed [16:37] n.e ways, want to hear a joke about my dick? [16:37] nevermind, it’s too long

[you] [16:38] sorry can i cancel my appointment? i don’t remember asking for a lame willy  

Jungkook always delivers and you’re not just talking about nuggets, bubble tea, and his Big Dick on the side. He always delivers, whether it’s his promises or fleeting remarks that you don’t even remember him saying. After months of being physically intimate with him, you learn that Jungkook is everything you thought he would be, and at the same time so much more and it piques your curiosity.

You want to learn more about him, unravel him from inside and out, until you are confidently acquainted with the exact colour of his eyes, the sound of his laughter, and the little antics that just make him so charming and endearingly dorky – everything that makes him Jeon Jungkook.

“Strawberry milk tea for me, 100% sugar because why not, and a green milk tea with pearls, 30% sugar for my lady.”

Static gathers at your fingertips as Jungkook’s fingers brush against yours when he hands you your drink.

You ignore his attempt to flirt, “You remember my order?”

“Of course,” he says a little too quickly and regrets immediately, “I-I mean, it’s a simple order… Pretty sure my one braincell can at least remember it.”

Smiling softly, you pull him into an embrace, while he rests his chin on the top of your head, taking advantage of the extra centimetres in height he has on you.

The light coming from your bed lamp allows the brush of his lashes to be shadowed onto the perfectly sculpted apples of his cheeks. From where you’re standing, you swear you can see a little blush making camp on his cheeks and you’re smacked once again with heavy realisation that your fuckbuddy is unbelievably ethereal.

Not that you aren’t already aware of it, but Jungkook staring at you with such bright adoration in his eyes, the light scar etched on his cheek, which screams to be smooched, and the small mole on the side of his neck that has become your favourite spot to kiss, is really something else.

“Fucking date me already, bro,” you mutter under your breath as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

His warm eyes bore imploringly at you and you tense up almost immediately, feeling hot like there is a fire deep in your bones, washing your senses away. The thought of him agreeing to your casual tease crosses your mind as a fleeting thought, but it dies when Jungkook just brushes it off with a chuckle.  

“Only if you pay me.”

“You fucking wish.”

A reciprocal laugh escapes from Jungkook’s lips, but he thinks his heart has just done a pirouette at the sight of your smile.  

“So how was your day?” He whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear even though it doesn’t fall, just because he just likes touching you, because he wants to be near you all the time, “Hope it was as nice as my ass.”

You scoff, but there’s an amused smile on your face, “I actually don’t know if you’re being truly genuine or sarcastic.”

“Well, it depends on whether you think my ass is nice or not.”

“Hmm… Well, it’s not that nice as Taehyung’s… I’ll give it a 6 or 7.”

“What the fuck?” Jungkook gasps out loud dramatically, “Right in front of my salad? Take that back! You’re not allowed to talk about my friend’s ass in front of me.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because I… You just can’t! That’s just… the bro code!” He shakes his head furiously and the little pout starts to form on his lips doesn’t escape your notice.

“That literally doesn’t make sense.”

“Bub... Do you really think his ass is better than mine?”

Despite the crude nature of his question, there’s a certain softness laced in his voice. He clutches your palm, his thumb idly gliding up and down the back of your palm so tenderly that it has the tips of your ears warming.

“Jeon Jungkook, are you jealous right now?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Well, I mean Taehyung does have nice fingers too, but I like yours more.”

“O-Oh, okay,” he mutters under his breath, continuing to rub circles into your palm silently.

A laugh leaves your lips as you pad over, “Dumbass. When I say that you have nice fingers, it means that I want them. In me.”

You’re grinning at him and he feels like his heart has grown fists because his sternum feels like it’s being battered.

“Fuck, your mouth is a sin.”

“You love it though,” you whisper sultrily, before placing your hand dangerously near his crotch and then dragging a finger over the length of his cock through his pants.

“Hell yeah I do.”

It’s whispered, barely louder than a breath and it’s more of a confession than Jungkook ever wants to admit.

Leaning in, his breath brushes over your bottom lip as he curls an arm around your neck to pull you closer. He leans forward, nose brushing against yours before he plants a kiss on your lips.

Your lips continue to dance over each other, heart skipping a beat whenever Jungkook sucks on your bottom lip. It’s a soft kiss, but also a hard fall, like plummeting a million miles an hour through time and space to land straight in the middle of heaven, the gates opening to reveal a beautifully blossoming feeling of unparalleled warmth and joy.

Maybe it’s against Jungkook’s better judgement when he presses another chaste kiss to the space between your eyes. Maybe that in itself is a very poor decision, because his feelings suddenly threaten to consume him completely.

Because in the deep tresses of his mind, he thinks he can hear bells ringing.

You can’t breathe, hands fisted in the front of Jungkook’s shirt, dizzy, lightheaded and hot all over. His teeth scrape over your bottom lip, which nearly makes your knees give out, and you barely have time to draw in a ragged breath before he greedily dives into the sensitive part of your neck for more. You tilt your head back, giving him free rein, and grip his bare shoulders so hard that you know it’ll leave red marks on his skin. You strangely like the idea of that.

He begins to nibble the pulse beneath your jaw fervently, eyelashes fluttering against the hinge of your jaw, till he sees a bruise beginning to blossom, his hand sneaking up your skirt. You try to break away from the pursuit of his kisses, but Jungkook is undeterred, planting kisses and nibbles down your jaw and to your breasts, prompting the smouldering lust crackling over your skin to only intensify.

Shuffling to the edge of the bed, his eyes rest on your features as you hover over him. Your fingers reach out to grab at the waistband of his pants and underwear, yanking them so that they pool around his ankles, before taking his dick in your hands.

You’re about to wrap your lips around the head of his cock when Jungkook cuts you off.

“Wait, how do you know that Taehyung’s fingers are nice? Do you stare at them?”

Your actions come to a halt and you let out a loud sigh in annoyance to mask the way your chest fills with so much fondness that it oozes out of every crevice of your body at Jungkook’s confused expression with his big doe eyes.

“Jeon Jungkook, I’m literally about to suck your dick. Does it really matter?”

Something cracks in his demeanour and he snaps after that. You can’t even remember how many times you fuck that night. Right after you suck Jungkook off, he’s hitched you up and pressed you up against the wall and fucked you rough and fast, just the way both of you like it. The second time is slower and less frantic. He’s stripped you of your clothes and thrown you onto the bed and pounded into you, slow and deep, until you’re keening and begging for more.

By the end of the night, you’re sore in so many places, with bruises painted all over your body like an artwork, and Jungkook is knocked out cold next to you, a heavy arm draped across your waist. As you relish in his warmth and weight beside you, the heightened thrum of your pulse continues to be cognisant at the under of your jaw, screaming in the distance.  

Three weeks into discovering GCF’s music, it’s become your life goal to never shut up about him. For someone who is a sworn rap fanatic (which is how you became friends with Yoongi because god, his taste in music is superior and he himself spits fire with no mercy), you’ve strangely become obsessed with GCF’s poignant music and his thematic exploration of love. It’s come to a point where you have every single one of his songs downloaded onto your phone and you visit his Soundcloud page every day without fail to check if he’s uploaded a new track or replied to comments.

There’s just something about his voice that manages to worm its way directly into your chest, where it’s festered into something so captivating that you can’t help but feel a meadowsweet summer warmth clamouring around your heart with giddiness on its heels. His voice has a certain sweetness, a softness that you could sometimes feel in the pit of your belly if you listen to him with your eyes closed.

You’re just a teensy bit butthurt that he hasn’t responded to your comment from last week – your really long and sweet comment about how much you could listen to him sing forever.

It also doesn’t help that Jungkook isn’t supportive of your fangirl antics and he proves it once again with the judgmental look he’s shooting you from your desk, while busying himself with a bowl of cereal at 2am. You’re unsure whether you should be the one judging him but then again, he is Jeon Jungkook after all.

"Why can’t you crush on an idol? You don’t even know how this dude looks like.”

You frown, pressing your lips together, “Stop being a hater. Isn’t that just the beauty of an underground artist?”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook replies with an air of nonchalance, “Okay, but what if he’s a serial killer? Or a 50-year-old creep?”

“Chill dude, he said somewhere that he’s a college kid. That’s why he takes quite long to put out new releases.”

“He said that?”

“I think I read it somewhere in the comments,” you shrug, stealing another mouthful of Jungkook’s cereal just because you can, “Why?”

He ignores your question and snatches back the spoon in faux irritation, “So what else do you know about him?”

You shrug, staring at him a moment longer, “Nothing much, except for the fact that he’s hopelessly in love with someone because his songs are fucking sad and romantic, but you know what? I absolutely dig that aesthetic.”

Jungkook feels like his soul is being looked into, and for a moment there, he genuinely thinks that you’re tricking him into admitting the truth. It scares him to think that he might have been transparent and vulnerable with his feelings. But even if you suspect anything, if you’ve noticed any sort of hints in the way Jungkook acts or the things he says, you don’t show it.

“He is?” He manages to squeak out, eyes glued on his now empty bowl.

“What’s with you questioning everything about him?”

“Nothing… It’s just… this guy seems dodgy. He doesn’t even sing that well. And what does GCF even stand for? Greatest common factor?”

“Oh my god, shut your nerdy trap!” You gasp, mouth agape, “And who are you to say that? You can’t even sing!”

You hit him with your pillow, but Jungkook, being the all-rounded guy he is, deftly catches it with a tight smile, “Remember that time when you tried singing to Justin Bieber – I swear I thought my mirrors were about to shatter!”

This only prompts an eyeroll from him as he’s brought back to the memory of him purposely screeching at the top of his lungs when you blasted Justin Bieber.

He doesn’t like lying to you, but he hasn’t quite decided on how he wanted to break the news to you. Does he simply just confess to you one day about him GCF all along? That all his songs are about you? That the person he’s hopelessly in love with… is you?

He doesn’t know, but he knows that he’s fine with whatever he has with you now. It’s an easy habit, the way you immediately scooch over to your side of the bed to make room for Jungkook. It’s just as much of a habit the way he immediately throws an arm over your waist, sturdy chest against the small of your back and legs entangled for extra heat The cuddle fest resumes, but when Jungkook presses his nose against the exposed skin at the base of your neck and sighs quietly, you realise that something’s off.

“You okay, Pingu?”

“Mmm fine.”

Your eyes are patient, fond, as you turn over to trail your fingers down his face, over the apple of his cheek and the corner of his mouth, brushing gingerly over his lower lip.

“Want to talk about it?”

Closing his eyes, he sighs, “Nah, it’s okay.”

He could not be content with the joyful contemplation of your eyes and your golden heart. Not even for a second could he let this love dwell upon his senses– because he knows he’s going to let you down at the end of the day.

The apartment falls quiet. Within the moment of silence that falls between you two, you think about how you two have shared so many silences, the quiet and steady presence of unwavering and unconditional support – that you no longer feel the need to fill them up with conversation. So you allow yourself to enjoy his sweet presence, the peachy smell of his shampoo, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“What are you thinking about, Pingu?”

There’s a beat of a pause that lingers between you, the gleam in the caramel of his eyes sparkling with something akin to lust as he attacks your neck with a violent raspberry to your neck.

“You.”

Your heart leaps at your throat and you feel warmth simmering under your skin, sitting high on your cheeks.

“What about me?” You ask, skimming your fingertip down Jungkook’s chest.

Shivering slightly at the contact, the smallest of smirks inches into the corner of his mouth, “The number of bad things I want to do to you.”

Your lips curl up, resembling his as you whisper breathily into his ear, “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

“Hmm?”

Your eyes are filled with mirth, a little sinister, mostly playful, inviting him to inch closer and you reach for the crook of his neck, lips coming into contact with his sensitive spot that you’re very familiar with. He moans when he feels the light suck of your teeth and the curve of your evil grin forming against his skin.

“How much I want you to do those bad things to me.”

And Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest, his head spinning at the propinquity, the intimacy of it all, and the love in his chest blossoming and spreading throughout his body.

Jungkook is well aware of the fact that he is indeed an idiot. Him and feelings? An irreconcilable combination. He’s accepted this. While he’s decent in his grades and talented in many areas, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing with you. His hands have minds of their own whenever you’re near and his mind goes short-circuit. Especially when he sees you with a dude he doesn’t recognise at the study lounge.

Something heavy and uncomfortable settles in the pit of his stomach at the sight. He’s always been mildly aware that you have a life outside of catering to his every whim, but this is the first time he’s been slapped in the face by the fact.

Squinting his eyes, he realises that you’re sharing your earpiece with the unidentified dude and he becomes super vigilant of your little mannerisms – how your face is lit up as you’re laughing and how your shoulders are brushing against the dude’s too much to his liking.

You’re always smiling when you’re with him. He’s not quite sure he’s seen the expression slip from your face, laced in the curve of your mouth and the crinkles of your eyes. It's another little detail, just one from his burgeoning list of things that he finds attractive about you. He wonders if he could be the only reason for your smile. He wants to be, desperately wants to, but he’s not sure if he’s capable of doing so. And he’s angry at himself for not believing that he can do so. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t tie you down, maybe you’d be better off with some other dude.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so selfish.

But he wants to be. When it comes to you, he wants to be selfish. He feels like he’s in a trance, fallen straight into the web you’ve woven around him, and he can’t get out because something in him turns green.

“Pingu!”

You beam at the boy standing awkwardly across the room, totally forgetting to keep your cool when your eyes land on his outfit. You have to stop yourself from drooling at how good he looks in his usual black button-down and dark jeans, the wide planes of his chest and the strong curves of the muscles in his arms.

When he walks over, his cologne wafts through the air and you have to will yourself not to have any dirty thoughts from how well his button-down stretches across his shoulders.

“Hey babe.”

Jungkook’s eyes zero in on your face, vaguely fleeting to the boy’s beside you, and shoots him a quiet seething glare when his eyes land on the proximity of your shoulders. For a split moment, he looks down at your phone and sees that you’re on GCF’s Soundcloud page – listening to his newest single, “Nothing Like Us” and his heart pummels to his stomach, softening a little.

“Boyfriend?” The guy perks up beside you, wariness evident in his tone.

You gently slap him on the shoulder in laughter, “Oh, we’re not together—”

“Yes, we are. Let’s go, bub.”

“Pin—”

Jungkook doesn’t wait up, grabbing your things and shoving them in your bag like you’re in a mad rush. It’s impossible for him to think straight. His mind has become an unrecognisable labyrinth that he has difficulty navigating, sent into a turmoil.

As he pulls you out of the lounge, fingers firmly intertwined with yours, warmth encapsulates your heart and cheeks, like sunlight melting on your skin in molten gold.

“I texted you,” he begins quietly, focusing on the ground and everywhere, except on your face as you desperately search for his eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t see. Was busy doing work with Minhyuk.”

At once, Jungkook’s vision flares red, glinting in the smooth obsidian of his eyes, “Don’t say his name.”

“W-What?”

He doesn’t answer and continues to tug you through the hallway.

“J-Jungkook? Where are we going?”

Realisation hits you when he brings you to an empty classroom – you recognise it as the old classroom that nobody ever uses – and a chill runs down your spine when the sound of the door being locked echoes throughout the room.

He pushes you against the wall, hands perched next to your head and you can't stop staring at his biceps, revelling in the way his arms flex whenever he moves.

“Strip,” he orders sternly, nipping at the lobe of your ear.

“H-Here?”

Jungkook has shared his kinks with you and you’ve never pegged him to be one for classroom sex, though you’ve got to admit that you’re turned on as well at the idea of a desperate, quick fuck in a classroom. Something so raw and visceral about it that sends a hot rush of arousal through you.

“You need to be taught a lesson,” he quirks his brow and smirks, reaching to unbuckle his belt.  

“Pingu—”

His lips purse before a chuckle leaves him, breathy sound meeting a restless tongue, as he runs it over his lips, “Did I stutter?”

The glint in his eye is dangerous like he has a primal need to claim. It makes you feel even more like a prey put on display, all weak in the knees for him when he slowly traces the dips and curves of your face – your eyelashes that’s fluttering with every breath, that tiny mole below your right eye, and your rosy pink lips. His eyes continue to trail down to the marks painted all over your neck and he feels a strum of possessiveness and satisfaction swell in his chest, knowing that he’s the rightful artist of such masterpiece.

He unbuttons your shirt and tugs it over your head, almost ripping it in the process but refrains himself from doing so at the thought of you screaming at him afterwards.

He plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lips and your mouths move in perfect synchronisation, practiced and perfect, but still sloppy with desire, a little too loud, a little too heated. There’s a tangible frantic hunger in the way Jungkook kisses you, a desperate need in how his hands roughly clutch at your waist, like he’s trying to steal the air from your lungs.

“All mine,” he whispers, teeth finding the plump of your bottom lip, a gentle gnaw at the flesh. When he tugs at it, it burns an inferno into your chest, imprinting your so deepest desires to the edge of your mind.

“Oh god,” you sob into Jungkook’s mouth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing closer, kissing you through the ache in your jaw, through the ache between your legs.

He doesn’t hesitate to hitch you up and you wind your legs around his waist, sweeping your tongue across his lips. This is far from romance, miles away, but it feels so romantic when it’s this raw and aggressive, tasting so much like teeth and sweat, lips working in precise vigour.

It’s almost impossible to pull away and when you finally break apart, a strand of saliva connects your mouths together. You watch Jungkook’s swollen lips glisten with your own saliva alongside the flecks of gold in his eyes and the very sight sends an electrifying heat down to your arousal.

There's something about kissing Jungkook, the mere act of having his chest pressed against yours and arms wrapped around you that feels natural and right, like you’ve been doing this for years.

When you slot one of your thighs between Jungkook’s and rock your hips forward, he takes this time to trail soft kisses down the column of your throat. Your breath catches in your throat when Jungkook sucks at the underside of your jaw, where your pulse is at and lets his lips linger, mouth leaving the warmth of an invisible mark that makes you rightfully his, even if just for a second.

He presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth, before trailing his lips to the shell of your ear and whispers, “I’m going to ruin you. Going to fuck your brains out till you can only remember my name.”

His words prompt a gasp to escape your lips and he uses this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, coaxing another moan from you when he explores the inside of your mouth with his tongue and you let him, wanting him to explore every nook and cranny of your cavern.

“Going to fuck you silly, babe. Just the way we like it.”

It’s the deep timbre of his voice, almost a growl, that sends electricity to course through your veins, making you feel so fucking alive. It’s the way Jungkook’s shoulders barricade your leaner frame, which makes you feel so weak in comparison and dots your body with goosebumps, remembering the time he shoved you against the janitor closet and left a lovely bruise on your lower back and reminded you of the sheer force of his hips even days after.

“On your knees.”

And you comply wordlessly, sinking onto your knees as your hands find themselves holding onto his thighs for support.

He’s so fucking hot with the radiant flush on his face, hair sweaty and dripping onto his neck, shirt clinging like an extra layer of skin. Jeans tight around his thighs and oh, he’s saliently hard.

He tugs his jeans down impatiently, which land with a thud, and you watch with fascination as his thick, angry cock springs up and slaps onto his abdomen, precum already pearling at the tip.

“Open up, love,” he commands.

Before you can even touch his cock, he bends down to meet your eyes. Patting your head, he puckers his lips and spits, coating your tongue with his saliva in one sharp shot. You gasp at his sudden action but swallow, wanting to taste your wetness mixed in with his. His tongue twists against yours as he buries his fingers in between the silky strands of your hair, tugging it backwards, leaving you whimpering with desire.

“You like that, baby?” Jungkook whispers against your lips.

You can only moan again, unable to form coherent sentences, especially when he breaks away and slaps the head of his dick against your cheek, spreading precum there, and then on your tongue before guiding himself to the cavern of your hot mouth.

He curses underneath his breath when you stick out the flat of your tongue to lick around the slit, before kissing the head softly and smearing your lips with his precum.

Desperation peaks hot in the air around you two. This must be what it feels like to be on fire, so consumed by flames of desire. You peak up at him through your eyelashes and you watch as Jungkook’s eyes flash with something so carnal that it makes you want to take his dick deeper. You feel like you might just combust into ashes.

You wrap your lips around the velvet tip, beginning in a slow rhythm, swiping your tongue out as you savour the bitterness of it and sucking hard. Jungkook’s cock rests heavy on your tongue, throbbing at the wet heat of your mouth. Your hands reach forward to cup his balls, massaging them while you continue to suck around his head, eyes peeking upward every so often.

“Going to fuck your throat now, babe. Open wider for me, okay?”

You hum in response, before pulling away from his dick and return to slide back down again till you feel it hit the back of your throat. Jungkook reaches down and threads his fingers into your hair, right down to the base of your scalp. When he pulls tight, your lashes flutter, a breathy noise that sounds a lot like a moan spilling out of your swollen lips.

Jungkook pulls out slightly and you know what’s about to come. Using your mouth with no regards, he incessantly shoves his cock down your throat, satisfied by the disgusting gurgling sounds coming out of you. Your affirmation reeks of desperation, rolling out in ecstatic waves and ripples.

His mind is growing hazy, the sharpness dulling and the only thing he can think about is how good you feel around him. Fuck, no one chokes and slobbers on cock the way you do.

His hips continue to jerk faster desperately, catching and sliding right into the wet, hot vice of your throat, until his dick is buried warmly and snuggly at the back of your throat and the curved point of your nose is pressed against his pubic hair. In his mind, he thinks your mouth looks so fucking pretty stuffed with his cock.

You gag once again, tears forming at the edge of your tears, and it sparks something in Jungkook’s stomach. He wants to take you into bed, eat you out for hours and makes you orgasm till your vision goes black, till you know nothing but him and only him. But you’re not in your room and in fact in an abandoned classroom and as much as he wants to please you, he knows that the table isn’t the most comfortable. With that, he yanks you off him, which comes with a light ‘pop’ and a thread of drivel stretches from your lower lip to the crown of his shaft. You whimper at the loss of his dick, tears trickling down the high flush on your cheeks, and even then, he still thinks you look the prettiest.

Jungkook can barely get his fingers around himself, stroking once, twice, before he comes in thick spurts across your lips and chin.

Reaching behind, he gets a handful of your ass and easily hoists you up on top of the teacher’s desk. There’s a slap to the junction between your ass and your left thigh, the meaty flesh reddening and as much as it hurts, you love it when he’s rough with you. 

For a second, the world is black and then your shirts are tossed on the floor after much pulling and tugging, your bare chest heaving as you try to retrieve the breath that Jungkook seems to have stolen straight from your lungs.

He’s got you lying flat on the teacher’s desk before him, your skirt and underwear hanging carelessly around one of your ankles. His thumb darts right over your nipple, before he drags his tongue over it, sucking on it lightly and circling around it while he kneads the other with his palm and tweaks the bud between his knuckles. But what really sets you off is when he grinds the solid girth of his cock over your glistening centre teasingly. 

“Please don’t tease...” 

As your thighs engulf around him, he leans forward, letting his nose nuzzle at the apex of your cunt, where the scent of your sex is so strong.

You can’t see the lower of his face or mouth, only his nose and tendrils of hair stuck on his forehead, but you can definitely it as his tongue circles around your clit, trailing a fat stripe up your folds playfully and sucking at your wetness. A string of curses fall from your mouth, pleasure hot and sharp shooting through your veins to feed the tightening coil in your abdomen, and a sense of satisfaction hits him square in the chest when he hears his own name in the mix.

He relishes in the shaky gasp he coaxes out of you again when his teeth scrape lightly against the nub before the pearl a harsh suck. There’s nothing sweet or soft about the way he’s eating you out, but that doesn’t stop you from squeezing your thighs in between his head.

It’s a tidal wave, causing even more wetness to pool between your thighs when you feel a finger teasing at your entrance. He rubs you a few times more before easing the digit in, while his tongue continues to flick at your clit lazily as you throw your head back, hitting the desk lightly in the process but it feels so fucking euphoric. His finger is thick, so fucking long and thick and your tightness gladly invites the chafe of his finger, relishing in the way he makes you feel so full. 

“Fuck yeah, so good,” your fingers find themselves tugging in the tufts of his hair, weaving through his hair to push him closer to where you want him to be. Every stroke of his finger sends your cunt into a hot ocean of fuzziness and when he presses his nose flat against your mound, your hips rise off the table, a rampant fire fusing in your abdomen. Your brain is fogged with nothing but utter desire to have his dick right inside you. He doesn’t let up, inserting another finger, curling them against your wall and proceeding to fuck you raw, fast and rough.

“You’re so needy,” he smirks at how pliant you are, how much you crave for him.

He can feel you tightening against his fingers, your walls clenching unimaginably tight around him with every stroke and he pulls out before you can come. You don’t even have time to protest when he grabs his dick and gives it a few pumps, before lining himself in front of your cunt.

The velvet tip first circles around your clit, the feeling sending bolts of sparks through your abdomen and there’s a deep rumble that falls past Jungkook’s lips when he finally pushes his head into your cunt that makes you immediately clench around his shaft, bringing the inklings of stars behind his eyes.

He restrains himself for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch and burn before you wriggle your hips the slightest bit and he knows it’s okay to continue. And then without warning, Jungkook rocks his hips forward, causing you to gag out loud, as his hips continue to roll up, drowning you in a white-hot heat. You keen shamelessly, loving the thickness and girth buried inside you to the hilt.

“Can’t believe the tightest pussy is mine.”

He wants to close his eyes and lose himself in this in the heat of your bodies, but he doesn’t want to look away. There's a shine on your cheeks and the expression on your face is caught in a euphoric bliss that Jungkook feels electric in his blood, the air between you two charged and alive.

“All mine.”

It’s been months since the two of you started this – this downward spiral into a mess of feelings that could never quite be spoken out loud, but understood nonetheless. But sex is always so good and you two are always so needy, so desperate, like you could never get enough of each other. And after all these months you’re supposed to be used to his thickness, you’re supposed to be used to the way his cock buries way too deep inside you, but you always feel like it’s the first time – your every nerve ending is alive and electric beneath your skin, receptive to each of Jungkook’s touches and sounds.

You can feel every drag of Jungkook’s cock inside you, every curve and line sliding against your walls, hitting that little bundle of nerves inside you that has left you babbling nonsense and drool dripping down your chin.

“Whose cunt is this?” His voice is dangerously gentle, but he’s looking into your eyes with eyes that are hooded and sharp by blazed arousal, the usual comets in them diminished and hidden behind the otherwise darkness of his irises, framed prettily by wispy lashes.

Your teeth sink down on the flesh of your bottom lip, red and bloodied in your attempt to somehow distract you from the overbearing stretch his cock tugs at your walls.

“Y-Yours!”

“Whose?” A low groan rumbles from deep in his throat, the sound bordering on animalistic, which sends tremors of desire to thrum through your veins.

He knows how to pry everything from you. How to get you to scream, shake from pleasure, how to get you to claw at his back like an animal and you love that about him.

“Yours, Jungkook. All yours.”

Finally, desire ricochets through his abdomen and the last tendrils of his noisy thoughts drift away, leaving him floating, the only sensation he knows at that moment is pleasure and the feeling of being inside you. He’s so out of breath when you rake angry red lines down his back in return, but he doesn’t mind. 

He wants all the scratches and bruises from you. He wants it all and he wants it hard.

Propping himself on his forearms so they frame your face, he brings up his foot to rest on the table leverage and pushes two fingers into your mouth. 

“Suck my fingers, yeah? You’re doing so good for me, bub. So good.”

You don’t protest, almost submissive under him, eyes obsidian and clouded with lust, sucking his fingers and revelling in the weight and fit of them in your mouth

At the crude sight of you, Jungkook pulls out of your cunt almost all the way, before slamming back into you with sickening precision, finally able to fulfil the primal, animalistic need and urge to act on his feelings and give you the best fuck you’d ever have. A choked moan is drawn from both of you as his length drags against your walls, hitting a spot deep inside you that has your back arching off the table, keening shamelessly as wet squelches and constant snapping of your skins resound the room.

He continues to pound harder into you, driving you into a delirious, babbling mess. Perhaps it’s the angle, but the way his hips snap into you, ploughing into that same sensitive spot over and over and over again, has you clutching desperately at his nape for stability.

You look so good like this. So soft beneath him. So close to him with your pretty tits snug against his chest that it feels like your heartbeats are in sync, falling into an echo of one beat together.

The desk whines under the weight and motion, but he continues pounding into you, bodies rocking to meet each other. Each rock of his hips sends you closer over the edge, the tip of his girth hitting just the cushion of your cervix, bodies rocking to meet each other.

His head dips, capturing your nipple and suckling gently before he nips at it, taking it between his teeth and pulling gently. The moan that tears from your throat is more than desperate and needy as he continues to grab onto your breast for support. 

Having been your sexual partner for months, he knows when it’s getting too much for you. He can tell by the way your eyes quiver and start to roll back and his fingers instinctively intertwine with yours as a way to help you relax as he rocks you through your orgasm, toned thighs and balls hitting against the backs of yours.

“Fuck, give it to me Jungkook. Please!”

A fizzle akin to a firecracker trails down to your legs and you fall back onto your elbow, your other hand firmly interlocked with Jungkook’s as he hike your leg over his shoulder and fucks you with the same vigour, feeling the weight of his cock inside you and his balls, heavy and full slapping against you. You keen at the new angle, feeling so full of him, and when you come, your entire body shakes and Jungkook holds you through it all, whispering love notes into your hair, against the shell of your ear, thumb tracing circles on your hip, soothing and reassuring.

He soon follows, spilling spurts of his warm cum inside you, harder than he ever has, your warmth a comfortable stroke to the ridges of his dick. For a few seconds, all he sees is the murky red of the inside of his eyelids. You’re still pulsing around him, clamping his dick with your warm walls, breath like staccato in your throat while he sucks at your neck, both instinctually trying to stake a claim for the best fuck ever.

The silence between you two is refreshing as you take a moment to catch your breaths.

Jungkook watches as your chest heaves with each breath, looking properly wrecked with a glazed look in your eyes. When he pulls out of you from oversensitivity, his eyes are fixated on his cum that’s dribbling out of you and he registers that nothing could be more enticing and beautiful than seeing your rosy pink pussy swollen and painted with his seed. He wants to come inside you all day. It boggles his mind, how close and intimate he yearns to be with you, how he has surrendered his heart to you on a silver platter.

He raises a hand to your neck, fingers brushing lightly on the florid bruises, his touch soft and longing.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers in a saccharine tone, corners of his pretty lips curving upwards into a grin, “All for me.”

You blush fervently at the sudden change in demeanour, still reeling from all the feelings coursing through you. Jungkook’s back to being the soft, doe-eye bean that you adore.

“And you’re like a dog. So fluffy.”

You squeeze his cheeks until his lips pout out like a fish.

Shoving your hand away, he scrunches up his nose and breaks into a blinding smile, the warmth spreading down to his toes, “Can’t believe you’re calling me a dog after I just had my dick in you. Way to ruin the mood.”

“Can’t believe you dragged me into a classroom because you got jealous.”

The flush on Jungkook’s face only darkens and he’s forced into quiet submission, shaking his head and muttering a quiet fuck you, but he doesn’t deny it.

“Wear this, your shirt looks ruined.”

Jungkook hands his sweater over and you take it gratefully, pulling it on, and for a moment, you let himself take a deep breath, the spell-binding musk of his cologne making you feel warm and safe. You find yourself slipping again into that safe, content state that you always feel whenever you’re with him. And just like this, you’re back to falling into Jungkook and the galaxies collapsed into the coracles of his eyes.

“So, when are you planning on telling her?”

Jungkook hates how straightforward Yoongi is sometimes with no patience for bullshit.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, shoulders drooping low.

“Kid, you know you can’t hide this from her forever. It would be easier if she wasn’t a fan, but she’s obsessed with you and your other alias.”

“I didn’t think she was going to find me… All I wanted was to post my music somewhere. I didn’t think this far.”

“Kook, she’s in love with GCF, your songs, your lyrics – I think she deserves to know.”

Jungkook shakes his head profusely, “It’s not that easy, hyung. When she finds out that all the songs are about her, I’m fucked.”

“Why do you assume that?”

“I just… When she finds out that I’m hopelessly in love with her, she’s going to hate me and whatever we have is going to be ruined.”

Yoongi shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling, praying to god for strength to pull through. He doesn’t know how to deal with his idiot friend and his equally idiot of a crush. It’s pretty common knowledge that Jungkook has a crush on you – if his intense aflame yearning for you could even be labelled as a crush – so big that he has dedicated his entire underground singing career to you in secret. But it’s also common knowledge that Jungkook is dumb – living in his own little bubble with his deteriorating one braincell.

“You think too lowly of yourself, kid.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, distracted by the notification that flashes on his phone.

[you] [14:56] listen to this!!! i love his cover

His heart falls. He is confused. He is beyond confused – he is conflicted, stupefied, disoriented and madly disturbed and even that is an understatement. He feels like he’s falling like a feeble autumn leaf from the gust of wind into a bottomless pit.

Drowning in a whirlpool of emotions he doesn’t even know he had the capability of feeling.

A smothered voice at the back of his mind starts to question your relationship. You two have shared so many words, so many late nights spent talking to each other even when you’re too tired to keep your eyes open, so many afternoons spent laughing over one braincell moments and food and so many instances unravelling each other physically and emotionally.  

He truly questions himself – whether the weightless impossibility that he feels around you could be love. He’s never been in love, like really what is love? What’s the difference between liking and loving someone? Each emotion feels so vivid, from the calm to the happy to the quiet.

He’s not sure if he loves you, or he’s in love with you, but sometimes he thinks that he could be, when he feels the lingering sweetness of your heart on his tongue, tastes the heavy redness of want beneath your teeth, and yearns for the softness of your body when he’s in class.

You’re a faraway planet and Jungkook wishes to settle his arms into their orbit around you.

Still, he wouldn’t risk something so delicately special for a thought that comes and goes fleetingly, in stolen pockets of time when the sky shifts from muted geranium to deep violet.

Even if it is love he has for you, even if this love could be made for movie screens, Jungkook knows that it’ll leave both parties broken. He knows that you deserve better, more than a guy who secretly writes songs about you because he doesn’t have the courage to love you loudly and wholly, like the bells ringing in his ears whenever his eyes land on you.

It doesn’t take a lot for you to realise that Jungkook has resided back into his shell. He’s been avoiding you for the last week and you kind of hate it when he gets like this, closed-off and hard to reach.

The thing about your relationship with Jungkook is that it’s a big nebula. While the two of you fuck around on a daily basis with supposedly no strings attached, Jungkook has also become one of your best friends.

As mischievous as he is charming, endearingly shy and heartbreakingly sweet, he’s just really nice to be with and it makes you falter, knowing how unconditionally Jungkook cares for you and vice versa. When you need someone to talk to, you often find yourself calling him, in which he’ll have no qualms about coming over, even at three in the morning.

This time, you fight the urge to call Jungkook again. The heavy want to hear his sweet, calming voice before you fall asleep is strictly romance territory, and you’re definitely not together with him, but you want to tell him about your day. The new movies you’ve watched, the songs that you’ve discovered, GCF’s new track that reminds you of him. You’ve been sending song recommendations to Jungkook. You want to share all the music you love with him, because they all remind you of him, because all the songs are about love, because they are all about how you feel for him.

But after much radio silence, you’re beginning to wonder if he even gives a shit about you. Deep down, you know that he does – he’s always been treating you a little differently, like you’re someone he holds dear to his heart. At least, when you’re together, just the two of you like this, he makes you feel as if you’re someone special and dear to him. And when another track of GCF plays in the background, you wonder: how nice would it be, if the lyrics reflect how Jungkook feels about you. Maybe this is how galaxies come into a pleasant, mutual collision.

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [2:34] you asleep?

You stare blankly at your phone, your instinct to pick it up and answer him immediately battles with the pettier side of yourself wanting to ignore him. The thought crosses your mind for only a second or two before you dismiss it.

[you] [2:35] nope

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [2:35] can i come over?

[you] [2:36] okie [2:36] i’ll leave the door unlocked for you

As the night transitions into a lighter grey and warmth sinks deep into their skin, Jungkook thinks that you look prettiest like this, sprawled across the mussed up sheets of your bed with the soft moonlight that makes the lilacs around your neck and chest gleam in gold.

“You’re staring,” you accuse, but your eyes crinkle up at the corners.

There’s a momentary hesitation flicker in Jungkook’s eyes and you part your mouth, ready to tease him even further, but your heart gets caught in your throat when he replies.

“How could I not?” He presses you closer to him, making sure there’s as little space between your bodies as he can possibly manage, “I could look at you all day.”

Everything feels a little hazier, a little gentler, a little warmer all at once and it’s not just due to the heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink. It’s also due to the stars in Jungkook’s eyes that come to live, smiling at you with their pristine pearly teeth.

He’s always tender after sex – all soft touches and tender words. It’s always a fight between warm and soft and hot and hard when it comes to Jungkook. And it’s exactly this clashing dichotomy that makes you so attracted to him and the low voice coming from those lips that glisten with a pretty, rosy swell.

“Bub,” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

He rests his hand in the dip of your side, fingertips gliding along the grooves of your ribs and raising goosebumps on your skin, as if his small touches are signals that he wants you within his reach, scared that you’ll leave.

“Yeah?”

His tone slips into something softer, “Can you… Can you smile for me?”

“What?”

You turn to look at him with a questioning look, but you’re greeted by the undeniable loneliness that overwhelms the monsoon of his obsidian eyes.

“Smile for me, bub.”

Your eyes narrow at his weird request, but eventually relent anyways, breaking into a soft smile as you run your fingers through his locks out of habit.

Jungkook feels his heart soar to an enchanting level of complete and utter rapture at the sight, feeling as light as he does heavy.

Upon his conflicted expression, the tilt of your lips fades into something more serious, “You okay?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just been a little off these few days. I kinda miss the old Pingu.”

“Sorry… I’m just stressed.”

“About?”

There’s a heavy silence in the moments following your question, hanging between you two.

Jungkook wants to tell you. That he’s currently putting up a full album with the help of Yoongi. He wants to tell you everything, confess to you that all his songs are about you, and he knew he was fucked when you found out about GCF because he never thought that his songs would reach you.

“About school stuff… Nothing important.”

Lies.

You could sense that he’s been wanting to tell you something for the longest time and you’re about to pursue it further, but upon seeing the hard rock expression on his face, you know better than to probe. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

“Okay,” you whisper back, so quietly it would have vanished in the wind and the distant noise of the city, “You have all my support, you know that right?”

Jungkook feels his skin tingle, especially when you slot your head into the crook of his neck, lips resting lightly against his pulse.

“I—” He opens his mouth, “Yeah I know.”

There’s a sheen in your eyes before the air leaves your body in a rush. You lift your hand to brush your fingers against Jungkook’s lips, before shuffling forward to plant a kiss on the corner of his right eye. You linger, breathing like a fresh spring against his face, and then pull back.

As your hands find the courage to explore the soft material of his shirt, you run your fingers over the buttons, curling into him and delicately ghosting over his skin that you yearn to kiss with your lips, lick with your tongue, mark with your teeth and bruise with your nails.

He strokes up and down your side rhythmically, but doesn’t seem to have any motive behind the touch, so you let him despite the goosebumps forming on your skin and the zap of electricity that runs down your spine.

You stay like this for a long while. It feels right, somehow, like this is the universe's plan for you two. Soon, you fall asleep to the rise and fall of his chest, to his steady breaths, to his fingers intertwined with yours. And you know that when you wake up, Jungkook will be here right beside you, like always.

“You two are so domesticated, you know that right?”

You purse your lips at Jiyoon, eyebrows slightly furrowed, “What are you talking about?”

“You act like a couple,” she says matter-of-factly and continues at your dumbfounded expression, “Have you seen the way you two act around each other? You might think you’re just fuckbuddies, but dude… anyone can see that you two are fucking whipped for each other.”

You’re not oblivious. You know for one that you’re someone who will go all in on someone, give your 100 fucking per cent and have your heart dangling out on your sleeve just for the taking. You know what it means when your heart jackhammers whenever Jungkook smiles at you with the warmth of a summer day curved in it and when you get a little weak in the knees from his touch. You know what it means when your room smells a little different – when your mind only registers Jungkook’s smell and nobody else’s.

And you know what it means when Jungkook is the only who can affect you like this and he’s the only person who’s ever affected you like this.

The little instances of watching Netflix with Jungkook and doing homework together before fucking till the wee hours of the night – and just simply being together – have stuck with you as kind of romantic and domestic. He’d drop by your apartment at random times of the day, sometimes even before you’re back, already rummaging through your fridge, and you’d just shake your head at his barbarian behaviour and order takeout. These are few and far in between, but they’ve given you a glimpse of what things could be like.

With Jiyoon’s words settling heavily at the back of your mind, a tangle of what ifs and what could bes, you call Jungkook over that night and ask him to fuck you like he means it. You don’t miss the number of times he hesitates to ask what’s wrong, but he doesn’t upon seeing your distressed face.

Your relationship with him, without actually having any resemblance of a relationship, is really starting to worry you. You don’t know what Jungkook’s thinking – you’ve never really known what thoughts rush through the waterfall in his mind, but he’s always doing these pseudo-romantic gestures that probably don’t mean anything and it’s scaring you. The way your body reacts to even the slightest touch from him is absolutely terrifying.

The way your body wants and it continues to want – it yearns to be intimately connected with him. Because your mind knows that nothing can ever top the feeling of him being inside you, especially when he eases two of fingers inside of you, sinking all the way down to the knuckles.

A shiver traverses your figure when he pulls out slightly, only to piston his fingers into you again mercilessly at your g-spot. But before he can sink you onto his dick, your stomach growls, as if announcing to the entire world that it has been waiting forever for this exact moment.

“Bub, you hungry?” He bites softly at your earlobe, chuckling lightly.  

“N-No—”

He stares at you with the celestials in his eyes and you know that he’s not simply asking for the sake of doing so, “What do you want to eat? I think we still have ramen left.”

Your heart skips at how he refers to the two of you as we. Technically, he’s not wrong, considering how he’s been getting the groceries for your apartment that don’t just include cereal and milk.

His breath is coming out in warm swathes of air against your collarbones and you glance down to see his eyes, the slow blinks of his heavy lids, each breath laboured and potent with lust. Beyond that, you see utter fondness in each of his little starry friends.  

“You’re seriously asking me what I want to eat when you have your fingers in my vagina? Jeon Jungkook, you are one rare breed.”

He scoffs, planting a kiss on your forehead, and when he pushes himself off the bed, you know that he’s abandoning whatever intention he has of getting off to make a run for the kitchen, “I’m just me.”

And right at this exact moment, you’re utterly defenceless to the slaughter that your heart endures.

“Yeah,” you mumble, gazing at the back of his adorable, round head, your words lingering in the heavy air, “You’re you.”

It’s been ages since you went over to Jungkook’s apartment and you thought it’d be nice to drop him a surprise visit since he hasn’t been coming over. He’s always kept an extra key under his rug (hashtag just Jungkook things) and you’ve conveniently let yourself in, knowing that he’s probably at home because he has Wednesdays off.

Upon entering his apartment, you’re immediately greeted by a familiar voice wafting through the walls. You feel like you know the voice by heart. That voice… GCF?

Strange. While you’re an avid fan of the underground Soundcloud singer, you don’t recognise the song and you wonder if he has a new release that you don’t know about. You make a mental reminder to check out his Soundcloud page afterwards.  

“Pingu?” You call out, saunter towards his room that’s left slightly ajar. Easing the door open, you pop your head in and the sight hits you with a pang, drowning your heart in your chest.

“Jungkook…?”

At the sudden voice, the boy twists his head around almost immediately and shock crosses his face, his mouth dropping open slightly when he sees you standing at the door. He didn’t hear you calling for him and he sure didn’t expect you to show up at his apartment.

You stare blankly at his studio – equipment neatly spread across on his desk with a mic stand lowered to his face. You can vaguely make out the different equipment, having frequented Yoongi’s studio. Your eyes slowly shift to the rest of his room – his album covers pasted on his walls come into view and your chest tightens with a disconsolate, stifling feeling. His room looks so foreign as compared to the last time you were over.

How long has he been hiding this from you?

"You—you are…"

The sight of Jungkook’s face of shock (or is it guilt?) punches you straight in the gut. It's like the world's come down to the two of you again, just the two of you, at this moment.

“Bub…” He mumbles, finally finding his voice even though it's hard, especially with you staring at him straight in the face.

Suddenly, he’s hyper-aware of the deafening thud of his heartbeat, how his lungs seem to rattle behind his ribs and the unnerving churning in his stomach.

"That explains everything. Oh my god,” you gasp, “Oh my fucking god."

"I—"

You blink a couple of times, looking down at the floor before you slowly lift your eyes back to Jungkook’s again. You hold each other’s gaze for a few quiet seconds and he watches, almost in slow motion, how your lips part to his impending doom, hurt evident in your tone.

"You mean all this while, the Soundcloud singer that I’ve been gushing to you about was… you all along?"

He breaks his gaze from your face and mutters under his breath, “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

“Were you…” you mumble, voice tight, "Were you even planning to tell me at all?"

“Bub…”

"Yes or no?"

He casts his eyes to the ground, chin dropping to his chest, and remains silent.

The quiet plagues the room with heavy stagnancy, swallowing your bodies whole and caging them with its wings. Jungkook shuffles his feet in his seat, thinking about what he got himself into and sighs deeply.

"You wanted to continue to lie to me?"

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” he says, the words sounding sugar crystalised and rough in his throat, like the honey that trickled into his lungs from recording earlier has all hardened.

“So you wanted to, huh?” You close your jaw, the familiar stiff creaking adjusted to a sharp snap and you shut your eyes.

Jungkook’s chest rises with a shaky exhale, “I wasn’t ready to tell you.”

“All this time when I was talking about GCF and recommending his songs to you, I was actually talking about you? And you just let me?”

“It’s not like that, I—”

“Jungkook,” you exhale, a tremor laced in your words, “You know… You never want me to know anything about you. I tried so hard to get you to open up and I thought that maybe you’ve finally let me in. Maybe because I’m special to you. But I was wrong this whole time. You don’t trust me. You never did.”

There’s a crack in Jungkook’s armour. Something flickers across his features that look a lot like hurt and he begins to frown, brows pulling taut at the centre, “Maybe you pushed me too much! Why do I need to tell you everything? We’re not even together for fuck’s sake.”

Every syllable from Jungkook’s mouth sends a wave of searing coldness down your spine and echoes throughout the apartment. He closes his mouth instantly, regretting his brash words, and even more at the vacant expression on your face.

For moments and moments, the world seems to hang on a thin gossamer thread, suspended in static.

“Right,” you mutter dejectedly with a shattered expression, mouth parted and chest expanded with a breath that you haven’t let go of, “You’re right. We’re not.”

“I—”

“This was a mistake. Right from the very beginning. Don’t know why I tried. I should have known…”

The words ring in Jungkook’s ears before it's even properly out of your mouth.

“Known what?”

You shoot a glare at him and you hope that he can see the newfound contempt that you have for him blazing in your eyes. Your throat suddenly starts to ache, a ghost of tears already running down the breadth of your oesophagus, setting your entire body on fire.

“That you wouldn’t let me in. That you wouldn’t want my heart if I handed it to you on a silver platter. That I’m fucking stupid for thinking that you’ll actually like me back.”

“Wha—”

You don’t hear him out, turning on your heels. Maybe this is why he doesn’t like you coming over. Maybe that’s why he’s been avoiding you.

When you go to sleep alone that night, every single limb of yours feels heavy with exhaustion, aching with agony. Jungkook’s scent lingers stronger in your pillows and sheets, your mind only registering his scent and nobody else’s, and suddenly your bed feels a little too big, a little too empty.

"I’m not going to say I told you so, but I fucking told you so.”

Yoongi comes stomping into Jungkook’s room in a blaze of anger and indignation, lips pulled back in a snarl and eyes narrowed into slits.

Jungkook flinches at his tone, but looks up from his laptop like nothing's wrong. Nothing’s wrong, besides the headache pulsing between his temples and the fact that he has fucked things up with you beyond repair.

"She called me yesterday. Started crying on the phone.”

“She cried?” Jungkook winces, heart plummeting to the lowest pit of his stomach.  

“Yeah.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles under his breath, not knowing what else to say.

"You know, to be very honest, you guys make it seem like the world is ending."

"What—"

"It’s not that deep, you know? You write songs for her, she loves listening to them. You’re both in love with each other.”

"We’re not—"

"Don't give me that shit," Yoongi snaps, "You can keep denying, Kook. But I can tell from the way you look at her. The way you act when she’s around. It’s my first time seeing you like this… You’ve never acted like this with anyone.”

Jungkook inhales deeply, holds it, then exhales through his nose. Around him, everything is silent and still.

"And I think you very much know why you hid it from her in the first place.”

"I don’t.”

"You do."

Yoongi’s frown deepens, creasing the smooth skin between his eyebrows, "You’re scared that she’ll get disappointed knowing that you’re GCF all along. The guy who writes beautiful, romantic lyrics, the guy who sings his heart out. You’re scared that you’re not what she hoped you to be.”

Jungkook remains silent.

“But you know what’s ironic here? She’s in love with you. And she’ll love you even more when she realises that you’ve been writing songs about her. All for her.”

Loss comes entangled in love; insisting its way into little spaces in between skin and bone, and once inside, it seals the door and never leaves. It builds a home.

You should have known.

Stringless sex is easy until someone catches feelings – and what’s supposed to be casual and simple turns into something messy. You should have known that you were fucked from the get-go. The two of you have been warm bodies, seeking each other out after long nights and hard weeks, skin to skin, nothing but terrifying and intense, but so, so wonderful.

You should have known that someone like Jeon Jungkook would come whirling into your life, thrashing and maddening like the storm he is, would come sweeping you entirely off your feet, in his own little endearing Jungkook ways.

Endearing. Everything he does is endearing. Weirdly endearing, but still so, so endearing.

He’s the boy who eats cereal at 2am just because he’s hungry, the same dork who barges into your apartment at random times of the day to sleep on your bed and help you with your laundry, the boy who often drops his rice grains on his clothes and doesn’t hesitate to pick them up before shoving them back into his mouth. The boy who snacks on canned tuna directly from the can.

You shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve fallen for him. He’s always been there, ready to take your heart and it makes it so easy – too easy. Falling in love with him and having your heart torn apart by him is nothing like you’ve ever experienced, but it is so easy, like the first snowflake during winter, so light, so at peace, like destiny.  

Your heart soars through the clouds as you let the feeling complete you. It’s as if every inch of your body has been set aflame, but you strangely feel safe, letting yourself drown with his heart that pumps liquid gold through his veins.

Now the memories come flooding through your apartment floors like a movie scene. You think about his small mannerisms, the way he always listens to you, even when he doesn’t give two shits about the topic or looks disinterested, but he’s always listening quietly, and how he always seems to take care of the people around him in his own quiet ways. He cares and loves so fiercely and deeper than you could have ever imagined.

Getting used to Jungkook not being in your life proves to be way harder than it seems. You find yourself with tons of dead, empty hours that feel way too long and insufferable. It’s not the sex you miss, it’s more of the mere presence of him, his smile, the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours. It’s the way his chest would rise and fall peacefully beside you, the way he’d share his favourite songs and movies with you, something you’d only convinced him to start doing recently, and the way he would banter with you over the dumbest of things and then make it up to you later on.

No matter how much you tell yourself that you’re upset at him, it doesn’t stop you from getting your hopes up every time your phone buzzes, only to be disappointed when it’s everyone but the boy you yearn to see. If only you could get some closure, but you can’t even bring yourself to initiate a conversation because there’s really nothing to say. It’s impossible to ask for an explanation, because you two were never anything. There was no us, regardless of whatever your heart has fooled you into believing.

Yet, your heart knows one thing: you’ve fallen in love with Jungkook in the quietest and gentlest of ways, almost as gently as the way he strokes your palm with his thumb, as gently as the way he looks at you, so impossibly fond it makes hope flourish in your veins.

And when your phone buzzes that night, you realise that your heart has always been right.

[googie ☁️🍞] [23:48] hey bub i know you probably don’t want to talk to me [23:48] but i’m having my first public performance as GCF this sat and i hope you can come [23:50] i missed you. a lot. you have no idea [23:51] i’m sorry for everything [23:53] really sorry

It takes every ounce of courage in you to leave your apartment that day for the campus music festival. Acts from the various school clubs and student artists are invited to perform, but the highlight of the evening would be the official debut performance of GCF. You’ve even heard that there would be media present to report on it.

You wonder how Jungkook is feeling. He’s probably dying inside, never one for crowds and unwanted attention and you wonder what made him decide to reveal himself. Could it be because of you?

When it’s finally time for GCF’s appearance, Jungkook’s blood fizzles with the sheer energy exuding from every corner of the pit. He glances at the crowd and finds himself dying a little more inside at the sheer amount of people gawking at him, anticipating him, including you, who’s stood rooted to the ground amidst the roaring sea of people.

He finds himself doing a double-take, heart caught in his throat like he’s not quite sure what’s in front of him is real, because there you are, looking as pretty as ever, staring right at him, your eyes slowly widening when you realise that he’s staring right back at you.

When he locks eyes with you, fizzy warmth fills you like a flooded street, a devastating kind that crashes right through you and throws you off-guard. He manages a smile, but his lips have a nervous, crooked curve to them and you watch him tug at the hem of his shirt anxiously.

There’s a love song written for you coursing somewhere through Jungkook’s blood and he breaks into a passionate belt when you offer him a soft smile.

His heart sinks once again. He probably should not be thinking about kissing the pretty curve of your lips when he’s supposed to sing and he fears that he’ll forget his lyrics because you’re here. Right in front of him, waiting for him to spill his heart out.

You’re here.

And that’s all that matters.

You realise that you’ve been holding yourself together by a thin thread and it snaps the moment Jungkook sings to you, for you. He always has this funny way of making you feel so special, looking at you like you’re the only person to exist, even now, when you’re surrounded by an entire crowd. As you listen intently to the lyrics, painful vines start to curl around your throat and thorns prickle over your skin. 

He continues to sing, the air around you two like running pages, his voice capturing you in a daze. He has reigned in the flitter-flutter heartbeats, blowtorched the butterflies in his stomach until there’s nothing but ash left in his chest and it kind of hurts, but right now, he’s going to sing, because this is how he is going to love you loudly and wholly, like the bells ringing in his chest.

The sky is painted with a violet flush hovering above the moon and the streets are quiet and aglow, pools of orange-yellow light being emitted from the lamp posts, distant sounds of the distant city echoing in the air. Everything around you is suspended in radiant city fog, soft in its vibrancy.

Not a word is exchanged between you two, with only the moonlight above your heads as the comfortable silence engulfs you in ellipses.

“Sing for me, Pingu.”

Jungkook’s gaze skims over your features in silent contemplation, “Bub…”

“Please?”

He doesn’t respond and you fear that he’s going to turn down your request, but then he starts singing softly and your heart gnaws at how pretty his voice in the darkness is.

Soft and crystalline, his voice hangs in the moonlight and drifts away with the stars, each word a drop of light, some of them whispered and some flawlessly held. His voice is huskier than you’d remember and its timbre sends shivers raking down your spine. You cannot emphasise how much better this is than listening to his songs on your earpiece.  

When he finishes singing, you ask, “Were you nervous just now?”

He chuckles, as if to ease the tension, “I was actually more nervous about you not showing up.”

“Pingu, of course I came,” you smile softly to yourself, “I wouldn’t miss your performance for anything and you did great – like you always do. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles back at you as gently as the pretty pink sky of a fading summertime day.

“Did you know that I started singing because of you?”

You freeze.

“W-What?”

“It’s quite obvious that all my songs are about you, silly.”

“I—”

“They’re everything that I feel towards you, but couldn’t tell you.”

Your eyes flicker across his visage – he’s biting his lips anxiously and your heart gnaws.  

“D-Did you know?” He slowly begins again, careful with his words, “That I like you?”

“No,” you admit, biting your bottom lip, “but I hoped.”

Jungkook’s eyes become soft crescents on his face and wordlessly inches forward to close the breath of space between you two, cupping your face in his hands like you’re the most delicate flower he’s ever touched. He doesn’t look away from your eyes searching your gaze silently and you watch as the moonlight catches on the flecks of gold in melted brown.

If you went stargazing with him, it’d be pointless because you would spend the entire night staring at the little stars in his eyes and becoming acquainted with each of his starry friends.

“I knew though.”

The whisper is warm and enticing as the words are exhaled onto your lips, leaving trails of electricity to tingle on your skin in the rise of gooseflesh.

“Huh?”

“I knew that I was going to love you.”

At his words, the press of skin to skin is nearly overwhelming. Under the moonlight, the hint of a blush glows effervescently on his cheeks.

“And too much. Far too much,” he adds, the curve of his lips soft.

Heat sits high on your cheeks as his words linger in your ears. It takes awhile for you to fully register his words, though petals are already wildly blossoming between your ribs. He makes you feel like you’ve got an entire universe in you just waiting to happen.

“Y-You love me?”

He nods.

“Listen,” he takes your hand into his, his voice soft, “I don’t know how to define myself without you anymore. You’ve been such a big part of my life and you’re the only person who has such an effect on me. I miss you like crazy when you’re not around and I knew something was up when I kept on wanting to see your face, wanting to see you smile for me and that’s when I knew it wasn’t just sex anymore. It was hardly just sex between us, even from the very start.”

The words come out in a messy tumble, and if you aren’t focusing on his voice, you probably wouldn’t have understood them. Still, the unexpected confession sends you into a mild state of delirium, mind racing a mile a minute.

“But you… You deserve to be loved loudly. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid, who isn’t always fucking up.”

“Pingu,” you begin, enjoying how his nickname rolls pleasantly off your tongue, “I’ve always wanted you from the start. And then things got really messy even though we aren’t together and even now, I’m still scared that I’ll ruin whatever we have.”

The sound of crickets echoes around you two, mixed with the faint rustling of leaves and the melody of a chilly autumn night. Muted in the back of your throat, softly lulling in the back of your mind, loudly screaming from the heart shapes in his eyes, you see love.

“But if you must know, my feelings for you are beyond this universe.”

You take Jungkook’s hand in yours, tracing the lifelines of his palm, the deep crease that represents his mind, the curve of his heart, and the delicate vines that he carries with him.

“You love loudly, Pingu. You love me in every sense of the word in the gentlest and loudest of ways.”

And when he puts his hand on top of yours, it feels like your galaxies have collided and become yoked as one, his starry friends now orbiting your once solitary sun.  

“So…” He starts, rubbing his palm against the nape of his neck, “I was thinking…”

“Wow.”

He lets out a huge puff and attacks you with a fit of tickles, laughter shared in low pre-dawn voices.

“Oh my god, Pingu! Sorry, let me live!”

“You’re so annoying, but so adorable.”

“I could say the same about you.”

So I was thinking…” He repeats, his voice dropping to a soft dulcet whisper, “Hypothetically.”

You hum in response, relishing how Jungkook’s breath tickles warmly on the slope of your nose.

“Maybe we could go out…”

“Like right now? It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh my god, you’re so dumb,” he laughs again, a deep, throaty sound that you can feel under your skin and presses his body even closer to you. His laugh echoes throughout the night and into the city and echoes in your mid.

“As in we could go out for real,” he says slowly, “As boyfriend and girlfriend.”

A dusting of pink blooms on the peaks of his cheeks, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. It snakes furiously down his neck and he searches anxiously for your eyes, catching the light from the lamppost and they illuminate like filaments of copper, while his heart hammers against his chest.

“And maybe you would say yes.”

“Yeah?”

“And I could, you know,” he finds his fingers instinctively winding themselves in your soft strands, smoothing it down rhythmically, “Love you the way you deserve to be loved. Loudly and wholly.”

Your entire body shivers. Grabbing his hand, you smile, “And maybe… I can’t wait for you to do that.”

“Yeah?”

Under the moonlight, Jungkook’s wearing a sun of a smile on his face and there’s a lovely light that reaches his honey eyes whenever his lips stretch and his dimple deepens. Ethereal.

“Yeah.”

At the first brush of his lips, an inferno ignites. Heat blazes through your veins, rendering you molten as you sink into his kiss.

Kissing Jungkook is a lot like coming home. His kisses are as soft as sighs and giggly secrets whispered in the middle of the night; happy, private, comfortable, familiar. In a way, you feel like you’ve been doing this all whole life. And then Jungkook moves closer and traces his tongue over your bottom lip, warm and heavy. Hums spill past your lips each time your tongues brush and you feel a restless fire raging beneath your skin, a meadowsweet summer warmth blossoming in your chest as he swallows every hitch of your breath.

In and of itself, there’s no greater testament to love than love itself. For one, you love how Jungkook seems to always know what your heart wants even when you don’t say anything. You love how gentle his heartbeat is and how it’s become the sound of your universe. You love how he has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped and it loves fiercely and loudly and gently. You love how he’ll always be just there, in every sense and meaning of the word. You love how hearts will be broken and tears will be spilt, but even then, it’ll still be worth it. And you love how fully love wakes between the two of you and perhaps, it is entwined in him that you find absolution.

ta-dah!!!! this is yet another mammoth istg i want to try writing short fics but I Simply Can’t. sorry if the wait was rly long ;; i just want to say that i fucking love jungkook and writing this made me feel so soft for him once again. jungoo is the goodest boi who cares and loves so gently and loudly in his own dorky, endearing ways and i hope you feel the same while reading this! !!

i love the ending,, still waiting for the day i can use the last line for somebody that’s not jungkook because life be like that i just want someone to hold my hand lmao

i probably will disappear again bc i’m going to be taking up a (legit) leadership position in school and i can foresee myself being fking tired,,, but i have plans to start on a hobi postbreakup & volleyball au fic... i won’t promise when it’ll be out because i am horrible at deadlines

once again, thank you so much for reading this and if you enjoyed it, please please hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ 

#btssmutclub #ggukienet #btswriterscollective #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fics #jungkook fluff #bts fics #bangtan fics #bangtan smut #bts scenarios #bangtan scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts fluff #bangtan fluff #bts fwb #jungkook fwb #soundcloud au #bts #bangtan #bts soundcloud au #bts friends with benefits au #bts college au #f: sugarplum elegy #bymoonchild

[kaepopsicle]

wayv bf series. liu yangyang

xiaojun . hendery . lucas

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

song describing your relationship - adore you by harry styles

sends you good morning // good night texts

sends you daily silly selcas letting you know he isn’t dead

(if it’s long distance) he’ll send you surprising little gifts like a teddy bear or something

(if it’s not long distance) he’ll show up at your place surprising you with a teddy bear

he’ll beg for him to come over bc his “hyungs are annoying him” but in reality it’s an excuse so he can see you

the type of boyfriend who will wait all night until you’re un-busy so he can call you

he would call you at random times of the day to tell you one dumb thing and then hang up like “hey, okay so I saw a pigeon stuck in a chip bag and I thought it was funny, okay bye”

has no filter, will tell you if he is taking a shit whether you wanted to know or not

attention whore, he’ll probably playfully hit your arm for you to look at him, or he’ll gently grab your face

park dates (he likes to pack cute picnics)

movie marathons (I can see him watching a scary movie and he will try and act tough for you but end up being more scared and hiding behind you)

playful butt taps

he always asks you for your advice before anyone else

you’ll share earbuds together and listen to a new demo song he is working on

you’ll wait for him to finish dance practices, but by the time he’s done it’s late and you’re tired

he’ll feel bad so he gets you some ice cream and you sit in the car and look at the stars

lots of sitting on roofs and star gazing and he’ll say some cheesy line like “you’re the prettiest star of them all”

he’ll take you to go shopping and you find something you really want but can’t afford it

and he’ll end up buying it for you secretly and surprising you with it

you guys would be that one competitive couple who always wins things so no one wants to play games with you anymore lmaoaoa

if you’re not feeling well, he’ll try cooking something but he burns it like 4 times, gives up and just orders something

says random things and always asking you the dumbest questions

“do jellyfish pee?”

“do you think Louis is getting fat?”

“what if I do thIS instead of tHiS” (when it’s the exact same thing)

“we should get ramen” - “yang its 1:30am?” - “I didn’t say nOW”

spontaneous and excited trip plannings but he forgets he is an idol “we should go to Tokyo and stay in one of those cute couple hotel rooms! And walk around looking at boutiques!” “Yang we can’t leave you have a job” “oh yeah”

sends you pictures of Louis with little captions like “he’s missing you too” or “you should come over Louis would like that”

has the other members take candid pictures of him so he can send them to you and be all like “look how cute I ammm your boyfriend is so cute.” which he is

I feel like you guys will have compliment battles that turn into you guys yelling about how much you mean to each other

he says something inappropriate and you end up slapping him (in a playful way of course)

PLAY FIGHTING

when you guys fight he’ll always apologize first bc he hates you being mad at him. even if you were the reason for the fight

last but not least he’ll love you unconditionally, give you lots of affection and love. he’ll always be a shoulder for you to cry on and be an ear for you to talk to. all in all he is a sweetheart and a boyfriend I will never have sosjdk.

#wayv yangyang #thanks for the notes guys 🥺 #yangyang imagines #yangyang reactions #yangyang fanfic #wayv #nct #nct imagines #nct reactions #i love yangyang #wayv yangyang fluff #yangyang boyfriend #the boyfriend series

[dreamypeaches]

don’t wake up pt. 6 | rafe cameron x reader

summary: after the night at the kegger, you and rafe tend to your broken hearts

warnings: alcohol use, cursing, drug mention, angst

word count: 3.9k

a/n: okay, so, i know i said this would be the last part, but it was getting so long and I had a great stopping point so there will be one more part after this. enjoy :)

series masterlist

Heartbreak is not a  physical sickness, but it can consume a mind like nothing else. As you lay in your bed, your mind constantly filters through every moment, every word, every touch over the course of your relationship with Rafe, trying to figure out if there was something more you could have done. It had only been about two months, but love can feel like a lifetime. And you could very safely say that you were in love with Rafe Cameron, even if he did break your heart.

Three days had passed since the Kegger and you had yet to leave you and your sister’s shared room. It was pathetic really, laying there in silence staring at the wall. You had at least two playlists that you used when you were sad, but even music reminded you of Rafe now. He had called, texted, left voicemails, but you refused to even read or listen to them. It was too much right now.

The Pogues had tried to console you, comfort you in anyway they could but you could hear their thoughts beneath the soothing tone of their voices. That’s what you get when you date a Kook. Especially Rafe Cameron.

Your sisters tried to comfort you too, to the best of their ability, but they were both busy with work, so most of your days were spent with your nephews and niece. Your niece, Jones, was the oldest, five years old and acted more mature than she should, but that was how it was on the Cut. She could tell something was wrong, and cuddled with you on the couch while the four of you watched Disney movies on repeat. You had called into work, not wanting to face anything for the rest of time.

It was lunch time, you were busy in the kitchen making sandwiches for the little ones. There was a knock at the door and all three of the children raced and wrestled each other to be the first to open it. You heard someone talking, but couldn’t make it out.

“Aunt Y/N, there’s a boy here,” Jones appeared at your side with a concerned look on her face, “and he looks like a Kook.”

You dropped the knife you were using to cut the sandwich, a quiet bang echoing through the kitchen. There was only one Kook who would show up at your door. You took Jones’ outstretched hand. She led you to the door where your two and three year old nephews were glaring up at the man standing there, the older one punching him in the leg. They learned early not to trust a Kook.

“Kelce?” You asked, furrowing your brows at the Kook in your doorway. He was grinning down at your attacking nephew, but the grin faded at the sound of your voice. He looked suddenly solemn, giving you a weak smile. You noticed a small box in his hands but couldn’t make out what was inside

“Can we talk?” You nodded, prying your nephew from Kelce’s leg and urging them inside and back to the living room. You turned back to Kelce who looked so out of place you almost laughed. Crossing your arms across your chest, you surveyed Kelce, waiting for him to say something.

Rafe had always spoken highly of Kelce, the nicer of his two friends. Before you had dated Rafe, Kelce had always been the Kook you were least intimidated by. Sure, he was still a dick to your friends, but you had never seen him throw a punch or heard him shout some horrible name at you. So you were ready to hear him out. If it had been Topper, you would have let your nephews bite his leg off.

“You need to talk to Rafe,” He said. You scoffed.

“I don’t need to do shit.”

“Please, Y/N! I know he hurt you and he does too. I’m not saying you need to forgive him but at least listen to him. He’s a mess. I’ve known him my whole life and he’s been bad before but this time…” Kelce trailed off, looking down at his feet and shaking his head.

“Just call him, please. You don’t even have to talk, just listen to what he has to say.”

“Did he send you?” You questioned.

“No, I’m just here as his best friend. He fucked up, bad, but he loves you.” You scoffed again. Kelce held out the box to you and you took it hesitantly,

“I found him this morning, passed out drunk. He’d been holding these. I thought you should see.”

He gave you one last nod and turned, walking down the path to his car.

You waited until he had driven away to go back into the house. Returning to the kitchen, you set the box down on the counter. You looked up at your niece and nephews, who were happily eating their sandwiches and watching PJ Masks. You looked back at the box and took a deep breath, having absolutely no idea what you would find inside.

A sob worked it’s way up your throat as you removed the lid to find a rainbow of scattered sticky notes filling it up. You recognized your doodles and handwriting covering them and slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your cries, not wanting to disturb the kids.

After your first night with Rafe, it became a habit to leave the notes for him. You felt bad sneaking away in the morning, leaving him all alone after the night you had. They were stupid, just something to remind him of you. You hadn’t known it then, but you were already falling hard for him. You had no idea he had kept them. Every. Single. One.

Jones suddenly appeared at your side, staring up at you with a worried look.

“I’m okay, sweetie, don’t worry,” You said, smoothing a hand over her hair. She wrapped her arms around your waist and smashed her face against your side. You accepted the little girls comfort gladly, holding her close to you with one hand while the other sifted through the notes. After the last time you saw Rafe, you had been sure your feelings had been unrequited. How could he do that to you if he really did feel the same? But now, you weren’t so sure.

The moment your older sister got home, you retreated to your room with the box. You looked through every note, picturing Rafe as you did. You thought of how the morning light filtered in through the window, illuminating his bare back. The peaceful look on his face as you sneaked through the door. Then you remembered another Rafe, a Rafe who was already awake by the time you were. An arm thrown around you waist, a sleepy smile on his lips, hair sticking out every which way. Good morning, Angel. A deep and consuming kiss on your lips.

Tears were still silently pooling at the corners of your eyes as you opened your phone, finally opening your text conversation with Rafe.

I’m so sorry, Angel

Please answer me. I fucked up.

Is JJ okay?

Please, Angel, I need to hear your voice.

Y/N, I know I fucked up but please just answer me.

Are you okay?

Please. I need you to know something.

Please answer your phone

The waiting tears spilled out as you read through the several texts he had sent over the past few days. Taking a deep breath, you tapped on his name and held the phone up to your ear. He answered almost immediately.

“Y/N!” His voice was deep and scratchy and desperate. You wanted to reach through the phone and give him a hug.

“Angel, please say something, I need to hear your voice.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, half of you wanting the end the call and through your phone in the ocean. The other half wanted to drive down to Figure 8 and hold him in your arms.

“Just say what you need to say, Rafe.”

You hear him sigh, half relieved half terrified. Then he starts crying

“I-I’m so sorry. I fucked up so bad and I hurt you, and I can’t forgive myself. You shouldn’t forgive me either. I know Kelce came to see you and showed that box. I hope it helps you realize how much you mean to me because…fuck…you mean the world to me Y/N. You may not think so because of what happened the other night, but you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Before you found me on the beach I though I would never be happy. That I didn’t fucking deserve to be happy. But you changed that. You loved me so much that I had to believe I could be loved. ‘Cause if someone like you loves someone like me,” He laughs and you choke back a sob, “than I must be pretty great.”

You barely hear him over the sound of your own sobs. Trying to picture him here, right in front of you, you see a dumb smile on his face. That dumb, dopey smile that always appears when your with him. He’s giving you that look. That look he gave you that night at the beach and again that night in the kitchen and again and again every day after. That sparks sits in his voice as he speaks, willing you to understand that it was still there.

“I love you, angel. I fell in love with you under the stars and fell into an endless hole because I will never stop falling. I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I just needed you to know that I am in love with you. I couldn’t go another minute without telling you. What I did was terrible and you should hate me for it. But if I can get even an ounce of your forgiveness, that would be enough.”

Your sobs were still coming, but had decreased in the harshness. You could hear Rafe breathing on the other side of the phone, interrupted every now and again by sniffling. With scotch tape and white glue, your heart was slowly being put back together. It was messy and fragile, but it was a heart nonetheless, put back together by Rafe’s shaking hands and words of love. Taking a deep breath, calming yourself down enough to speak.

“Rafe.” You hear him let out a breath of air.

“Y/N…” Your name is like a prayer

“I love you completely. But you fucked up and you hurt me so…I’m going to need some time.”

Silence. Sniff.

“Okay, angel, whatever you need.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hang up the phone and throw it to the edge of your bed. Emotions wash over you like a wave, pulling you under and pummeling you against the current. You let out a final sob as you sink into your bed, snuggling into the pillow that quickly became soaked with your tears. The bedroom door creaks open and tiny feet creep in. Jones stands in front of you dressed in her pajamas and clutching her stuffy.

“Do you need a hug?” She asks. You nod vigorously and open your arms to welcome the girl. Her arms circle your torso and squeeze you as hard as five year old can. Giving her a kiss on the head, you hold your niece tight and try to ease your recovering heart.

Jones falls asleep quickly. Laying there, you stare up at the ceiling where glow in the dark stars sill lingered from when you were a child. Rafe runs through your mind like a wild fire, igniting every thought that wasn’t about him. Decisions race through your mind behind it, flashing through quickly, but only one stands out.  

You detach from Jones’ Koala like grip and grab your phone.

To: Sarah Cameron

I need your help.

To say Rafe missed you was an understatement. His life felt different without you, empty. He was so used to you being there everyday. A call, a text, a kiss away. No longer having that luxury made his heart ache. The only thing getting him through the day now was the possibility that he would have another chance.

After your phone call a couple days before, he had clung to the notion like it was the only thing that kept his head above water. You still loved him. You just needed time. Time. Rafe hated time, the cruel bitch. But he would give you it. He’d give you anything.

As Midsummer grew closer, Rafe felt the ache in his heart grow and grow into a numbing pain. That was supposed to be your night. Everyone would know that Rafe Cameron was the luckiest man on Earth. He would sweep you off your feet and tell you he loved you like it was a god damn fairy tale. If only he hadn’t fucked it all up. If only he hadn’t turned to drugs. If only his dad wasn’t a dick. If only he could control his anger. If only.

“Maybank.” Rafe walks up to where the three male Pogues stand on the dock. JJ’s face is black and blue, one lip split, an eye swollen almost shut. Rafe somehow looks worse than him. Dark bags under his eyes and eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep and crying. You still hadn’t called him.

“Fuck off.” JJ spits.

“I’m sorry.” JJ is suddenly convinced Rafe killed him that night. This couldn’t be real.

“About your face I- um - it was uncalled for and…uh…yeah, sorry.”

JJ laughs suddenly, his one good eye glaring.

“Are you fucking serious? You come over to apologize so I can put in a good word with Y/N, is that it? So you can break her heart again?”

Rafe flinches at the malice in his words, dropping his head to look at his feet.

“No, actually, I would prefer if you didn’t tell her I came. I just wanted to try and make things right. I also just need to know…is she okay?”

Despite the colors painting his face, making it unrecognizable, the hate on JJ’s face was evident. The other Pogues noticed JJ steaming and pushed him back, whispering something to him. Pope stepped forward, a similar look of hate in his eyes, but his exterior was cooler.

“No, she’s not. For some reason, she really liked you. She’d been so happy these past couple months and we had no idea why. Now, she’s the saddest we’ve ever seen her and we know exactly why. The only reason I won’t let JJ smash your face in is because we don’t want to upset her even more. Just leave us alone. Leave her alone.”

With that, the boy stepped back into the boat and floated away.

He should have listened to Pope’s words and left you alone. But you had called him and he couldn’t stop himself from pouring his heart out to you. Every word he’d wanted to say spilled from him, just the sound of your voice being the last crack in the dam before it broke. Rafe was selfish and in love with you and he didn’t know what he would do if he lost you completely. So he would wait as long as you needed him to, even if it meant waiting forever.

But as he woke up the morning of Midsummers, the fact that you weren’t beside him tore him to pieces. He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to move from his bed, not when this was supposed to be the day that he showed you just how much he loved you.

He woke up late, only pulling himself out of his bed when Wheezie came in, jumping on him while saying he needed to start getting ready. He showered and slinked into his closet, trying not to look at the dress bag hanging beside his suit as he changed.

He’d spent so much time picking out the perfect dress for you, agonizing over every piece of fabric he came across because it had to be absolutely perfect. He’d even gone as far as to ask Sarah for help, being extra careful not to let her know who he was buying it for, and he would be forever grateful to her for it. She helped him find the perfect dress, it was almost like she knew it was for you. Simple and but beautiful, not too flashy because he knew you hated that. But, as much as he loved the dress, he had been more excited to get it off of you and reveal the matching lingerie set he had bought underneath.

Rafe pulled his suit on and staggered down stairs to find Topper and Kelce waiting for him, passing him a flask as he approached. He saw Sarah, John B, and Kie outside by the pool, the Pogues looking uncomfortable in their formal wear.

“You alright, man?” Kelce asked slapping him on the shoulder. Rafe just nodded, taking another swig from the flask.

“Forget about that Pogue for the night. Have fun, get shitfaced. There will be plenty of girls willing to help you get your mind off things, if you know what I mean,” Topper said with a smirk.

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Her name is Y/N, Topper. Not ‘that Pogue’ and I don’t want to forget about her,” Rafe snapped. Topper held is hands up in defense, taking the flask from Rafe’s hand and taking a large gulp.

“Whatever, dude,” He said, putting an end to the conversation.

By the time they make it to the club, however, Rafe is ready to drown his sorrows in booze and coke. His mind is adamant on torturing him with images of what could have been. He imagines you by his side as you walk up to the door, arm wrapped around his own. Before you walked in, he would lean down and kiss your cheek, whisper to you about how beautiful you looked. You would blush and tell him to shut up, but he wouldn’t. He would have worshipped you the entire night (and every day after).

As the group is about to enter, Sarah grabs his arm and pulls him back, allowing the others to on ahead.

“Can you just wait here moment?” She asks.

“Why?”

“Just do it! I promise, you won’t regret it.” And with that, Sarah turns and hurries after her friends. Rafe huffs in annoyance, fingers tapping against his leg as the need for some sort of substance grows stronger and stronger. He’s about to turn and go inside and drink himself silly, but is suddenly frozen to the spot.

“Rafe.”

Had he woken up this morning? Was he still laying in his bed wasting his life away? There was no way this was real. He turns and your image only adds to his belief that this was a dream. The orange light of the sunset surrounds you, adding to the already heavenly glow that follows you everywhere. You’re wearing the dress he had bought you and you look a million times more beautiful than in his dreams. A crown of daisies sits atop your head like a halo. Rafe had always called you angel, because that’s what you were. An angel that walked the Earth and graced him with your presence. That nickname had never been more perfect than in this moment, because Rafe was sure he had died and gone to heaven.

“Y/N,” He stumbles towards you, hands reaching out hesitantly. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, touch you in anyway he could. Deprived of your touch for so long, he craved it more than any drug. But he doesn’t want to overstep. You’re here, but he doesn’t know how close you really are, how close you want to be. He let’s you make the first move and he doesn’t have to wait long.

You hand moves to his cheek and cups it, thumb stroking across his cheek bone as you smile up at him. He covers it with his own hand, grasping on and allowing himself to believe that this is real. You stand like that for a moment, off to the side of the walkway to the club. People glance and whisper, wondering who that girl is with Rafe Cameron, but neither of you gave two shits.

Tears begin to well up in Rafe’s eyes as it sets in that you are here and you’re smiling at him and touching him and the dawning realization that he hadn’t lost you overwhelms him. Your other hand cups the other side of his face, pulling him closer to you. He collapses into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you into his chest. His grip is firm, refusing to let you go ever again. Burying his face in your neck, he speaks a mantra, hoping that it sinks through your skin and lets you feel every ounce of his apology.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” He repeats over and over again until you shush him, running your fingers through your hair and planting a light kiss below his ear.

“I know, baby,” You pull away, holding his face again and looking into his eyes, “I’m still working on forgiving you, but I want to be with you. We have a lot of shit to work through, but we’ll work through it together, okay?”

Rafe takes a deep breath, pulling away slightly to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He nods and you smile at him and kiss his cheek.

“Tonight, though, I just want to be with you. I’ve missed you like crazy. And I believe someone promised me an incredible night. Which means no crying,” You say, wiping away your own tears. Rafe grins at you, extending a hand to aid you. It’s your turn to soak op his touch. You lean into it, missing the comforting warmth of his palm.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rafe says with a disbelieving laugh.

“Just what I said! I was promised a wonderful night and I am not going to pass it up! I asked Sarah for help and told me about the dress and stole it from you. She helped me do my make up and hair and whatever and now I’m here.”

Rafe grasps your head between his hands, holding you like you were made of glass. The gaze he has on you is filled with so much love and joy and pure adoration that your stomach begins to flip.

“You’re here. And you’re so fucking beautiful.”

A few seconds of gazing at each other, taking in every inch of the other’s face, passes before you speak.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

The hesitancy from earlier vanishes as Rafe pulls you into a breathtaking kiss. It’s wild and messy loving, just like Rafe. He literally sweeps you off your feet, his arms rapping around your body to lift you, pulling away as he sets you down.

Rafe feels his heart soar. None of his dreams could ever compare to the euphoria he felt, nor any drug. For the first time, he looks into her eyes and speaks the words, “I love you.”

And for the first time, with a smile on your face, you speak the words back, “I love you too.”

taglist: @teenwaywardasgardian @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @obxmxybxnk @butgilinsky @juliarose21 @bluesiderudy @ilovejjmaybank @diverrdown @diverdcwn @mdlyncline @https-luna @broken-jj @nqbmf @ityagirljay @downbytheouterbanks @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @trinnwazheree

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron angst #obx fic #my writing

[purplecraze]

Fugo how do you think your life would be if you date each member of your little group you have like in different timelines

“uh...mmm. It's a bit weird to think of it like that. I love them a lot, but not in the way how I'd want to date them, I think... doubt any of them would really be up for it, either. Mun has-....” He stares at Umi for a while, looking like he could have known she'd go haywhire over romance talk. “....-a lot. To say about it, though. The floor is yours...”

(ooooooohhhhh!!!! *screams of the rooftops* OOOOOOOOHHHH!!! welcome to golden territory!! FugoXeveryone, oh hell yeah!! (just doing the canons for now))

Bucciarati Bucciarati and Fugo would be an absolute power team, they’d be communicating in a way that’s bringing up speculations on whether they’re actually telepathic. They just naturally feel what the other needs at the moment. Long private strategy sessions, spinning around each other and closing in, that end up in shy hand-holding and kissing. Bucciarati always waits for Fugo to initiate it, to be sure he's fine and ready for it. He's very careful with him. Bucciarati knows how to handle Fugo’s self-destructive tendencies well, without making him feel less or like he’s a trouble to his elder. The problem with them though, is that Fugo would put Bucciarati on too much of a pedestal and would lose sight of Bucciarati’s weaknesses. And that’s not a topic Bucciarati would address. But it would take a toll on their relationship without a doubt. In turn, Fugo would brood in silence over how super social Bucciarati is. He’d easily feel neglected. And there’s the hurdle of transferring from high admiration to equal lovers. will there ever come a time where they’ll be on first name basis? probably not... The one time, Fugo muttered ‘Bruno’ in a small voice and Bucciarati replied with ‘yes, Pannacotta?’ it was just so horribly awkward, it never happened again, EVER. Would it last? Yes. But only in the sense that neither would admit on giving up. they both would be running into complications on it, it wouldn’t make them very happy, but they'd be content enough.

Abbacchio This would work well. Fugo is one of the few Abba can hold a decent conversation with. Fugo wouldn’t condemn him for the saltmine coming loose once they get to deep conversations. Abbacchio isn’t exactly booksmart, so he can’t always keep up with ‘what’s this brat spewing on about now?’, but he loves to just sit and listen to Fugo going on and on about this tidbit of historical knowledge he found. Abbacchio is the best person to handle Fugo’s tantrums. ‘no, not now, think with your head *slap against the back of Fugo’s head*’, his tactic is diversion. just force Fugo to completely focus on something different and the topic of his anger will evaporate. Fugo would bring out the caring side of Abbacchio, without it turning absolutely one sided. Fugo would hear Abbacchio out on his troubles too, without getting pushy on it. he does, however, tend to say a bit too much. he won’t catch on to the moments where he’s supposed to just shut up and hold the other. Would it last? no, not at all. the very instant the both of them get too comfortable, they’ll be like ‘okay, this lasted long enough, let’s not.’ because why would you NOT destroy happiness with your own two hands, in stead of waiting for it to crash and burn??

Mista Oh geez, this would be one hot mess of a dumpster fire! It’s a ride Fugo NEVER AGREED to be in, but that doesn’t mean it’s not enjoyable. Mista just drags him along like a puppy, saying ‘c’mon, we’re going to have a great time!’ Mista would show him off. everyone needs to know this beauty is his ✨boyfriend✨. even though Mista tends to be flirty, he is super loyal to him. the moment Fugo would as much as make a sound over Mista talking to someone, he’d be like ‘don’t be mad Pannacotta, you know I only have eyes for you~’ It’s wild and intense and overwhelming. Fugo would not quite come to his right in it and it would get kind of suffocating for him on the long run. Guido doesn’t know how to respect boundaries either. Fugo would start fights, one-sidedly, a lot. both in words and fists. Mista wouldn’t easily be taken aback on any of it, though. Almost patronizing, he’d reply like ‘okay well, you do you...’ and take very little of the criticism. Then there’s the entire tetraphobia matter. Fugo would often lose his patience on it. But he’d also try his hardest to be helpful on it. He would look up on the phobia, it’s origin and how to deal with it. He would tell him it’s not an uncommon superstition and throw the theory behind it. Mista doesn’t usually get it. But when Mista’s having anxiety over it, Fugo doesn’t question its bizarrity and searches for ways to snap him out of it by making the topic either 3 or 5. usually 3. because destroying stuff is easy. Would it last? not a chance. Fugo gets mean on break-up. in particularly heated arguments, he’d be the kind of petty asshole who would take every book, text, dictionary around the house and HIGHLIGHT 4 letter words. ALL OF THEM They’re in the type of relationship that goes horribly wrong after a month, but they forgot that happened like half a year later and try again, failing miserably once, twice, 10 times more.

Giorno His relationship with Giorno is a strange one. The events of Man in the Mirror had Fugo starstruck and he thought very fondly of him since. But it came to crash and burn down when he found that he was the mastermind behind usurping the boss. Fugo loathes himself for the decision he made at that day, but a large part of that hate is to prevent himself from blaming either Bucciarati or Giorno. Because he knows Giorno is dangerous if he wants to. All the more as his new boss. At the end of Purple Haze Feedback, they have a very beautiful conversation and Fugo swears loyalty to him. It was the only way for him to move on after everything that happened. But they were also very sincere and shared memories that others wouldn't understand. He's also the only one who ever called him Giogio. They connect well and Fugo is very reliable. Giorno trusts him blindly and appreciates his criticism. Over time Fugo will grow bolder and says what's on his mind, knowing Giogio will take his shit and filter it well enough. Any initiative will have to come from Giorno's side, though. Fugo often feels like it's not his place to do so. But I don't think Fugo would ever forget that it had been Giorno who initiated the plan that had led to his friends' deaths. Forgive, yes absolutely. But not forget. Would it last? 50/50. there are 2 outcomes: they either spend the rest of their lives together, or Fugo ends up killing him. And I think Giorno would have peace with that.

Narancia Oh geez, where do I even start? They're not perfect, not at all. They fight and argue and it's led to many MANY bruises on both sides. But that's just how they are and if you'd ask either of them, they would be ready to die for the other without a shred of doubt at any given time. As much as they fight, there's also a lot of adoration from both sides. Fugo doesn't even have to try, to see stars of admiration in Narancia's eyes. It fills him with pride and makes him feel so good about himself. Narancia needs to work hard for Fugo's approval. but because of that, it makes actually getting it so much worth it. Both of them get horribly giddy on impressing the other.  A new dance, a fun date plan, a mastermind prank. The most important part for both of them is their honesty. Narancia knows that Fugo would never lie to him or hide the truth, like how his father and old friends had. And Fugo can trust that he can say whatever he want, even without filter. They can both rest assured that no matter how big their fights are, the day ends with kissing either way. A part of Fugo wants to better himself for the other's sake, but it weights him down as well, thinking he's not good enough. Narancia isn't the brightest, but his abundance of empathy and sincerity knows how to hit Fugo just right into believing he's good as he is for today. And if not that, Nara reminds him that he's not a saint either. They’d find happiness in a lot of little things. getting to snuggle for 5 more minutes, welcoming the other home, cooking for the other, singing along to the radio, doing the dishes. all those mundane moments are really precious to them. Would it last? Definitely. They'd have some bumpy rides, but neither of them could ever get bored of the other.

Trish The start of their relationship would be so incredibly AWKWARD. They both have no clue what to say and Fugo feels hella uncomfortable. But bit by bit, they start to warm up to one another. Fugo wouldn't want to involve her in any more mafia business. But for Trish, that week together is a fond and priceless memory. She'd want to know what went through his mind when he was left behind. And both of them would want to apologize. Want to start anew. And would want to get to really REALLY know one another. Fugo's anger is just..... it doesn't exist around Trish. She is super calm and soothing and just knows how to convey a certain energy to him which puts him at ease. Both of them don't like to be touched, so they're very careful with one another, asking permission, asking if the other is alright. They both really love music and share their favorite songs. She sings them as he plays the piano. And when the shyness slowly melts away, they both find that the other is super fun to be with. Dumb jokes, running jokes, ironic quoting, shitty puns. They both hadn't ever expected the other to be so entertaining. They learn new things on one another every day. And they try to improve, learn new skills. Trish would want to pick up on baking, Fugo would pick up on girls' fashion, doing her hair or her nails. Would it last? Yes, I think it would. They need time to heal and feel at ease, but I think they could really find peace and a new life in one another. I think Fugo could even come to love her enough to pop the question~)

#pannacotta fugo #fugonara #fugio #brugo #fugotrish #fugomis #abbafugo #I'd ship it all really... #Anonymous #purplecraze #fugo answers #fugo headcanons

[libralita]

Fate: The Winx Saga Unedited Ramble

Alright so I finished the first season of Fate: The Winx Saga and it was pretty fucking dreadful if I’m being honest. Let’s get into it.

First, let’s talk about the production quality because it was lacking in some weird areas. The audio mixing was surprisingly bad in a few places. Most notability when characters were talking over the phone. Every time Bloom speaks to her parents over the phone the voices on the other end are so loud. And most of the time when a character is talking to someone over the phone, their voice over comes in a bit softer with a filter to make it sound poorer quality. The audio was crisp and loud. There was one funny scene where Bloom is on the phone with her parents and she’s outside and there’s a bunch of background noise and her parents are in a quiet house. When it cuts to Bloom’s parents with Bloom on the phone you can’t hear the background noise but when you cut to her you can hear the general outdoor sounds in everything. Also whenever pop songs could come they were so loud. I would always have to turn down my volume because they would be louder than the normal speaking voice. Now for the sets. They were fine? I guess. Generic castle. Generic house. Generic forest. Fine. The costumes were uh…really awful. Mostly because you have the cartoon to compare it to where you had fashion designers design the outfits and you could tell, all the girls were so fashionable. A lot of the outfits were crimes. Terra’s and Stella’s were especially god awful.

And now, I guess I’ll go through the episodes and point out the problems as I see them. Episode one, I have a lot to say because the problems of the show become evident very quickly. So, first the dialogue. The original show had lame slang, especially with Musa, but my god some of this shit was painful. The first instance is when Bloom accuses Sky of mansplaining, so first of all it’s really great to see my childhood icon being sexist. Great. I love it. Second, she isn’t even using the term correct because by definition it is a man must explain to a woman a concept that she already knows in a rude way. Bloom states before this that she doesn’t know what a Specialist is so it’s not something she already knows. The only line that got a snort out of me is when Bloom says “Gryffindor. Explains the judgement.” Now the roommate situation. They totally moved Terra and Aisha because they wanted more drama. Terra is a ball of anxiety and wants to be friends with Musa, Musa’s an empath and can’t deal. Bloom is naturally gifted and a bit of an…well the show wants us to think she’s a free spirt and a rebel but she’s an idiot. Aisha is smart but has to work for ever bit of magic she gets. (despite that one line where she saws she flooded her school because of a math test but whatever) Another thing is that they say guns don’t work on the Burned Ones but if swords do then guns do. It’s stupid.

A great theme of this show is that everyone needs to calm down. As someone who’s lived in a suite like with this with four/five other girls, you’re not going to be best friends with your roommates the first day. Calm down Terra. Back to bad lines. Speaking of calming down, Bloom’s mom takes away her door (Sidenote: Whoever wrote “Don’t you feminist with me. This basic bitch’ll break out her bullhorn and her dissertation and take your ass to school.” Needs a good slap) and so Bloom is so enraged by this that she…nearly kills her parents by burning the house down. Fucking brilliant. That is the thing that enrages her. That. Fucking moronic. Also Bloom’s parents are on the floor but there’s a clear pathway that they can just walk through that Bloom walks through. This could have been solved if you had Bloom walk through the flames because fire fairy Speaking of people needing to calm down Terra is just absolutely insufferable. Riven calls her fat and she her response is to choke him and when he calls her out on this she smiles at him saying “nice to see you again” or something. Fuck off Terra. Attempted murder not acceptable when someone insults you.

Alright, now to talk about Stella (and yes, we’re still on Episode 1) while I think Bloom and Flora were done the dirtiest, they massacred my girl. While I don’t think Stella is the most complex character, I discovered while watching this that I really like her in the original. I especially love the episode she gets her Enchantix and the episode she saves her father from Valtore’s spell. Both episodes are so beautiful and her character shines. She’s a bitch in this show. It explains why and I actually do feel bad for this Stella but my god, my Stella would never. Which might as well be the title of this show, Fate: The Winx Would Never Saga.

Few final problems for the first episode: First they call Bloom a changeling and that’s not what changeling’s are and it’s very distracting. Find a different word. Second, Bloom’s house does not look Californian and probably isn’t. Also if Bloom didn’t want to lose Stella’s ring, then she should have worn it on her fucking finger. Now onto episode 2.

So, another problem with this show is Beatrix, while she’s one of the most interesting characters on the show, the fact she barely interacts with the girls is stupid. They should have just put her and Bloom in the same room together. Then Beatrix could interact with all the girls. Problem solved. But no. However, I actually kind of dig Beatrix’s relationship with Riven, I remember liking it in the original as well when it was with Darcy. Maybe I just like evil couples. Oh and magic has changed. So now there’s five elements Water, Earth, Fire, Air, and Mind. And you use emotions. And seeing Stella tell Bloom to think of negative emotions hurts my soul because I remember the episode where the girls go to Cloud Tower in season 2 and STELLA WOULD NEVER. Onto episode 3 and 4.

Okay so it’s revealed that Bloom was born in 2004 so that means these girls are 16, 17 in Stella’s case. To which I say bullshit. Now, onto Queen Luna. I don’t think she had any lines in the original series, however I will say QUEEN LUNA WOULD NEVER. I hate that Stella has a shit relationship with her mom. I hate that Queen Luna is queen of Solaria. I hate that she’s the Queen of Light despite her name being Luna because she should the Queen of the Moon because that’s how it worked in the original but no. It’s dumb and I hate it. Though, I will say that her treatment of Stella did make my heart hurt. New appreciation for this imposter Stella. One other thing is that Beatrix’s story is the most interesting. Aster Del was cool.

Episode 5 is when I realized that there were only 6 episodes of this series instead of 8 so…this is the penultimate episode and where shit gets real bad. I don’t like seeing Musa having sex, I think I was on my phone when Stella was having sex but seeing Musa with her bra just made my childhood weep a little. Also, how the fuck did Musa not know Stella was there? Also, I kind of like the scene were Stella opens up to Musa but I would have liked to see Musa say “I’m an empath, dummy, I know these girls aren’t judging you.” Speaking of stupid, Bloom. While Farah not telling you the truth about stuff was dumb, you breaking Beatrix out is massively moronic. And then the show decides to make my childhood weep again by having Bloom drug Sky. Thanks sho w, seeing this happen to my childhood OTPs is fucking great. And you know what? I try to hate this show but then it has a soldier facetiming Marco saying that the Batallion is dead and that she has a broken leg. Then she starts running away from the Burned Ones while hobbling with her “broken” leg and the camera stays on her. It’s…it’s a special show.

The show briefly mentions magical convergence and don’t fucking dare. And then…the characters brains magically go bye-bye. First Bloom is a ding dong for leaving the drugged Sky face down. Then Terra, Musa, and Stella are absolute ding dongs for giving Bloom back the key to break Beatrix out. At first I thought they were fine with allowing Beatrix to murder Dane and then Stella just fucking pushes her into the trap and it made it worse. You don’t fucking know that won’t kill her, you ding dongs.

Onto the finale. Aisha gets shit for being the only one who isn’t a ding dong. “Hope the brownie points will keep you company when you have no friends.” My soul. Bloom becomes really fucking confusing because she doesn’t trust Farah or the other staff but then she just randomly trusts Rosalind. And then she points this out that it’s weird that Rosalind wants her to trust her. And then Bloom goes to save her friends. Funny moment: Stella loses signal, she clearly needs to switch over to the plan that one soldier had where she could face time in the middle of a fucking forest with perfect quality. Then back to Bloom where she confronts Farah and says “What if Rosalind isn’t crazy? What if she had a reason to lie?” And she’s just…an idiot because she doesn’t see how that logic can be thrown right back at her with Farah.

Terra continues to be an ass to Musa. Like she just demands that Musa take away his pain and I understand the Musa needs to open up and get past her baggage. However, Terra does it in such a bitchy way that I would have probably slapped her. Also the show pretends that Terra was helping Sam when she did nothing but hold his hand while he writhed in pain. Also, also you clearly have sedatives in this world, fucking use them.

So Saul “killed” Andreas which is stupid on two fronts. Number one, Saul says to at least Sky that he died in a battle but no one ever questions which one. You’d think they’d find his body on the battle field. Number two where the fuck did Andreas’ body go? Did Saul not care? Fucking stupid. Also Andreas raised Beatrix. Interesting. A little…Mortal Instruments but I’ll allow it. Cool reveal.

Then…the things. Uh, while I’m glad that this show about fairies actually has fucking wings for one scene and they’re pretty cool looking with the fire and almost scale like. However…there’s no magical costume which is bullshit.

Finally, Farah’s neck is snapped and that just kind of the final blow to my childhood. So…overall. This was pretty shit as both an adaptation and just as a story. There were a lot of plotholes and stupid things.

#Fate: The Winx Saga #Winx Club #Netflix #bitter

[hoe-imaginess]

I require Tamaki headcanons about how he is in a relationship pre and post... I must know how this shy boy secures the bag!

yes!!! I turned this into more of a… like… scenario type of thing… long read… but my hungry boy deserves it

Tamaki Amajiki 

•Ok first off he has such a massive crush on you that it’s not even funny. Any time you walk into a room he has a mini heart attack 

•He’s probably had a crush on you for years but never pursued his feelings because he wouldn’t even know how to

•He’s such a dumb baby. If you sit near him in class (actually—EVEN IF YOU’RE IN THE VERY ASS BACK OF THE ROOM) he always looks straight ahead, never moves, like a literal statue. Because he knows if gets even a glimpse of you his face is going to burn until it melts off. He won’t even turn around to talk to Mirio or Nejire. His eyes are glued to the chalkboard all day

•He gets a little jealous of Mirio because obviously, Mirio is outgoing as hell, and probably chats with you often. Tamaki gets so anxious about it; watching Mirio make you laugh is like a knife in his gut because UGH he wishes he could work up the courage to even talk to you and Mirio is making it look easy

•OH yeah Mirio is a horrible wingman (not on purpose, we still love you Mirio). He thinks that by interacting with you, it’ll somehow encourage Tamaki to join in. But it does the exact opposite: how is Tamaki supposed to slide in and spark up a conversation when Mirio is so charismatically overpowering?? Like, how is he supposed to compete with that? 

•Oh shit Nejire is even worse she absolutely annihilates Tamaki on the daily

•Tamaki will be minding his damn business and then you walk into class and Nejire slaps him on the back of the head, points at you, and shouts, “LOOK WHO’S HERE TAMAKI!” And he dies a little on the inside 

•Despite this, you may actually struggle trying to decide if he likes you. Like, yeah, he blushes whenever you come around—but is he blushing because of you? Or because he has the social skills of wet cardboard and dreads interaction with literally the entire population? And it’s not like he’s going to tell you; whenever you two do get the chance to talk he’s either deathly silent, or makes up some excuse to run away

•One time you two were partnered up in class and before you could say ¼ of a word to him he stood up, asked to use the bathroom, and then never came back

•At one point Mirio and Nejire completely exhaust their patience. They corner you after class and not so inconspicuously invite you to hang out. Tamaki shortly afterwards gets a text from Mirio telling him the same thing (not mentioning that you’re going to be there ofc), and when he shows up and sees you his soul physically leaves his body, but Mirio and Nejire disallow him to run off

•He’s on edge the whole time. Anytime you even look his way he starts sweating bullets. But hanging out with you mitigates some of his anxiety, probably because he gets to spend personal time with you outside of school (especially when Mirio and Nejire suddenly disappear and leave the two of you alone) so it’s not exactly easy to slip away or go mute like he usually does; he actually finds that conversation with you gets easier 

•He’s still a bit awkward, but it’s a great improvement from the years he spent crushing on you from afar and having literally no outlet for his feelings. Now he at least gets to talk to you and omg he loves it… but then he hates it, because OMG he gets to TALK to you and HEARING you talk about LITERALLY ANYTHING makes him fall for you so much more and kajshdkajsh he played himself

•But okay! There’s been some progress! You exchange numbers because come on, you’re friends now, right? But he’s a total dweeb when he texts you. You send him one “Good morning! How are you?” text and see him typing for an hour straight because he has no goddamn idea how to reply. He ends up just replying “Yes.”

•Things get easier and Amajiki learns how to actually breathe in your presence without having an anxiety attack. You two get along well and of course, he’s so damn cute, how do you not start crushing on him too? It’s fairly obvious to everyone that you two have a little thang going on, but Amajiki is way too nervous to make a move, even though Mirio and Nejire have assured him countless times that you clearly like him back, so what’s the hold up?

•You probably have to make the first move, sorry boo. The next time you two hang out (ALONE, might I add, because Amajiki is at least comfortable enough now that Nejire and Mirio no longer have to be chaperones) you catch him off guard with a kiss. On the cheek? The lips? Doesn’t matter—either way this kills the man. He blushes so hard you swear he’s about to have an aneurism

•While he stutters through his surprise you get to confess your feelings. You probably know how he feels about you already, so if Amajiki doesn’t manage to reciprocate due to shock, that’s okay

•Mirio and Nejire hound him the next day for details but he’s too flustered to share (and honestly, he’s still trying to decide if it was all a dream)

•He eventually gets around to his confession, even if it’s a little unorganized and chaotic. You already knew that he liked you, so he didn’t really need to confess (but he felt bad about not not reciprocating when you did so he stood in front of the mirror all night and practiced his own confession) but he still gets an A for effort

•Nejire and Mirio lose their goddamn minds when you two walk down the hallway holding hands for the first time. They’re your biggest fans

•Post-relationship Amajiki is still a giant nervous dork baby. You could be five months into dating and when you smile at him, all that goes through his mind is “Omg are you smiling at me? At me? Is there someone behind me? IS IT ME? ARE YOU SMILING AT ME?”

•He’s so bad at planning dates, especially fancy dates when he wants to take you to a nice restaurant; clearly he’s thoughtful enough to even think of that, but it’s the technical stuff he can’t do. Mirio has to call the restaurant and make the reservation for him skskdjskjd poor Amajiki

•And when it’s time to buy a gift for you, Nejire has to take him shopping. Amajiki knows what you like (he’s actually really good at picking presents) but he’s convinced that it isn’t going to be enough, or that you’re going to hate it, that you’re going to break up with him because he’s such a bad gift-giver, etc. Nejire is there for emotional support… but mostly to force him to make a decision, otherwise he’s at the mall all day second-guessing himself

•It’s so funny because yeah he’s an anxious wreck, but he’s still Suneater and a member of the Big Three and one of the strongest heroes in the country who takes on perilous, life-threatening missions—but at the end of the day he’s curled up under his sheets, staring at his phone trying to decide if he should reply to your Snapchat with a regular selfie or if he should use a filter, or if he should reply at all because it’s kind of late and he’d hate to keep you awake ya know? But also what if you WANT him to respond and he doesn’t and THEN he hurts your feelings and then you break up with him over a Snapchat and—

•Oh god he saves all your voicemails so he can listen to them when he’s busy with hero work and needs a pick-me-up ksksjsksksk I love him

#amajiki #bnha imagines #bnha amajiki #amajiki x reader #amajiki tamaki #love him #could have done more for post-relationship but pre is my favorite #my hero academy

[msuhana]

heeyoo everyone ! i’m ume ( 21+, she/her, pst! ) and this is my first muse here ! i’ve been eyeing this place for a while but only got enough time recently to really be able to join so i’m supes excited to be here !!! anyway enough with the ice-breaker-esque intro, this is hana  🖤  ( yves fc ) and she’s quite the pain in the ass bc she has quite the longest stick in her ass lmfao! her profile is right here, but it’s ridiculously long ( not that this isn’t ridiculously long but wtv ) so if you don’t want to get a headache .... mb read the below deets first ? i’d reaaaaaaaally love to plot with everyone, i’d much prefer it over twitter (@nagisasgf) or via discord ( feel free to ask! ) rather than tumblr dms, if possible. but if you’d also like to plot, feel free to like this and i’ll zoom by for some one on one time ! 🤪🤪🤪

TW WARNINGS CHILD ABUSE, VIOLENCE, BLOOD, NSFW

meet cho hana 

again, cho hana: 21 y/o ( 11/11/98 ), toseong senior majoring in transfiguration, minor in herbology

she’s also in these clubs: chess club (co-president), debate club, and herbology club!

her mother chose her clubs and her major, hana chose her minor and the herbology club

born and raised in seoul, south korea! she’s also a mahoutokoro graduate

she was a ‘accident’, her father is severely out of the picture to the point that hana doesn’t even know his name / whereabouts or questions about him because her mother never told her about him at all and hana just accepted it ( aka her mother has a very tight reign on hana’s life )

speaking of her mother, her mother is a famed auror who fell from grace when she got pregnant with hana

because of her pregnancy with hana, she had to retire early and thus dedicated her entire life making sure hana didn’t make the same mistakes she did and was just as smart, talented and envied as ahyoung had been

this makes for a very restrained childhood, where all hana knew was studying, studying and more studying

also if it isn’t obvious, hana has serious mommy issues to the point that she’s disillusioned herself into thinking everything is okay when it’s not

( TW FOR CHILD ABUSE )

whenever her mother was displeased with something, she’d physically abuse hana -- it began when hana would get things wrong, if she didn’t get the right grades or failed to make the top of her class but then it started to extend to embarrassing her mother by saying or doing the wrong things

( END TW )

it’s pretty bad because hana thinks, still, if she works hard enough she can somehow gain her mother’s love 

ever since she was young, hana was conditioned to strive for the best, because she was ‘cho ahyoung’s daughter’ she could do it, to the point that it not only inflated hana’s ego, it also really fucked up her self-esteem and how she she’s her own self-worth

a lot of people think she’s a ‘genius’ or ‘prodigy’ because of her academic history but she’s literally the opposite, she works way too hard for her grades but her mother wants her to pretend she’s a genius because she thinks it’s embarrassing that her own daughter isn’t a natural-born genius like she is

i, hana

this bitch has Big Tsun vibes if you know it you know it 🤪

like she’ll geniunely care but she’s also HEAVES BIG SIGH BC ???? WHY ??? WHAT ARE THESE FEELINGS ???

she’s such a priss, and she knows it -- that’s why i say she has a stick up her ass bc she does

she’s definitely not a wild card, she’s very by the book, rules and all, sure -- she tries not to fault people if they’re not the same as her but if you go out of your way to be stupid, you’ll be getting an ear-full

probably the most put-together person you know, organized, meticulous, looks like she has her life all together? yeah that’s cho hana

her outfits of choice are hot librarian chic, if you must know -- yes, she owns sweater vests and layers her clothes, and yes she thinks they’re sexy

she’s not mean, but she’s also not unreasonably nice off the gate ???? she’s just really civil and mutual ??? mostly she’ll fake smile at you but in her head she’s like ‘i’m with stupid’ 

no, but if you’re really dumb / do something really dumb she’ll call you out on it without filter

she’s a very type-A personality, but she wasn’t always like this. if anything, she was made to be this way and it kind of stuck. she carries around a planner ( no, not those bullet journal crap ) an actual planner with real dates, a to-do list and scheduled sessions written for almost every minute of every day. if she loses this, she’ll practically shut down

hana doesn’t love control, she needs it -- if anything, without it, she can get a little antsy, so much that it kind of fucks with her fragile ego ( you can thank her mother for the need to be in control bc her mother literally controls every aspect of her life )

if she’s upset, she’ll probably grin through it before quickly excusing herself to go throw vases at the walls or tear flowers to shreds in the greenhouse

if you need someone to critically tear down your confidence and dish reality’s terrible news to you, hana’s probably the person you need

you can probably find hana in 3 places if she’s not in her dorm: studying in the library, crying in the greenhouse, or smoking at the pool of universe

she’s praised as some kind of genius or prodigy, but hana thinks it’s more of an insult than a compliment because she's neither. she won’t deny it but you can probably instantly see the way her demeanor changes towards you when you call her either of those things

this bitch should go on jeopardy with all the useless information she keeps on hand from all her studying, tbh. like she’d be leading a normal conversation with her friends, and if it’s remotely related, she’d randomly insert it into the conversation as if it was something normal like asking about the weather.

not one to go out looking for trouble, but much like a vulture – she follows it. perhaps it’s her desire to be praised, to feel needed, whatever – but in her group of friends, could probably be seen as the moral compass, if not, the person who’s cleaning up everyone’s messes ( or holding their hair while they puke their guts out )

needed connects

childhood friends who know how hana’s mom is, and all the stress she puts on her ( but not the bad things that happen at home ) and try to help her through her issues but hana’s like ‘no, it’s not your problem, it’s okay’ but this friend won’t give up because they hate to see hana so stressed and sad and frustrated and just want the best for her!!!!

give her friends who want to loosen her up because she’s literally so fuCKING RIGID, she needs to live a little but hana is literally like fuck that shit i need to study my ass off or else i’ll lose my place ( but really she’d probably not lose her place, she’s just delusional )

ppl she can actually break down in front of bc she feels stress keeping up w everyone’s expectations of who she is and she’s kind of SIck of pretending to be this Perfect Person but she keeps it up bc it’s better than hearing the nasty things about her

give me a good tension-filled rivals plot, this bitch is honestly so hyper-competitive it’s ridiculous, we’d just love someone to go ‘chill tf out you bitch, but oh yeah look how i steal rank 1 from you’

TOSEONG SENIOR PREFECT LOCKED ! so, hana worked extra hard junior year in order to get senior prefect ( or even head girl ) but since she got neither, hana is a) pissed and b) bitter because now she has her mother breathing down her neck for not getting either positions, but her mother’s wrath adds even more : ) unnecessary : ) stress and that stress : ) gets unreasonably taken out on that toseong senior prefect

exes who couldn’t keep up with her -- hana always puts her relationships second to her academic priorities and it comes to a point where she’ll put studying/getting ahead before hanging out with her significant other, and it has always been this way ; she’s also just never able to properly put her feelings into proper words so she’s always just ... Repressed 

someone give her a love where she ALMOST threw everything away for but at the last minute didn’t -- OR BETTER YET she was so ready to do it but the s/o was like Sike! and she was left devastated and her already vulnerable feelings got even worse to the point that she closed herself off

HERBOLOGY CLUB MEMBER LOCKED ! ( could be a junior year or above! ) hana wasn’t always in the herbology club, but she joined her sophomore year after a brush of fate. after getting really bad results on her DADA exam, and fearing what her mother would say/do, she finds solace in the greenhouse ( she’s been there several times bc of her minor and finds it empty at certain hours ) and begins ripping up the plants. your muse can find hana and scold her / console her / etc. but somehow the interaction ends with your muse convincing hana to join the herbology club 

( TW NSFW )

someone pls fuck her against a bookcase, just a thought

rivals but fwb ( can also be paired with the connect from above! )

( END TW )

hana secretly smokes. she doesn’t fault anyone who does, hana just thinks it’s a bad habit for herself and if her mother knew, she knew she’d never hear the end of it. so, enter your muse either they found her while they themselves were looking for a smoke or just happened upon her -- either way they found out hana smokes and it can end in either a ) hana doesn’t give a shit and ends up having smoking dates with them or b ) hana fucking fears for her life and exchanges something in order for you to keep your mouth shut

( TW ABUSE, VIOLENCE )

PRE-ESTABLISHED FRIENDS PLOT REQ ! but your muse mistakenly walks in on hana and her mother in the middle of a heated argument. you finally see hana being the submissive person you Don’t know her to be and in the nick of time you see her mother slap the shit out of her. you try to talk to hana but don’t know what to say -- shockingly enough -- you don’t need to say anything because hana just breaks down and it kind of just makes sense. from there, your muse will probably be the only person hana goes to about her mommy issues, especially when hana’s mom makes her ‘surprise’ visits to campus to check up on her

( END TW )

hana isn’t a bad drinker, if anything -- she’s pretty good at keeping her alcohol in check. however, you aren’t -- so here she is, holding your hair, holding your arm, or helping you back to your dorm room. either way, she’s here to take care of you and in the morning, lecture you for your almost alcohol intoxication scare

as top of her class, hana isn’t unfamiliar to tutoring others, if anything, a lot of her professors actually ask her to do so -- pairing her with several of their students at one time. maybe you’re one of the students she tutors?

someone who envies how well hana does in school, and is constantly praised for it -- maybe hates her for it? idk -- something spicy i guess or going so far to say how easily it comes to hana and kind of undermines the hard work hana actually does and hana either takes it or blows up at them for it bc that shit is annoying as fuck

toseong house cute plots bc hana isn’t really all that cute but like she tries ... she wants affection but won’t go out of her way to ask for it??? bitch has problems i swear

toseong house not so cute plots ( could also be relevant to any not from toseong ) who are just sick of hana’s genius bullcrap and want to take her down a notch !!!!! my ass heavily wanting this bc who doesn’t love a muse in pain / agony ; could also apply as a rivals / hate plot idk 

( TW BLOOD )

HEALING MAJORS LOCKED ! your muse catches hana in the middle of her rage episodes. she unceremoniously is wreaking havoc somewhere and ends up breaking glass to the point that she ends up bleeding. your muse chances upon her -- sees that she’s bleeding and offers to patch her up. whether or not she fesses up to why she ended up this way, can be determined!

( END TW )

#msu:intro #honestly if you read all this u deserve everything Good in the world #also known as ume doesnt know when to stfuuuuuuuuu !!!!11!!1!!! #also yes i stole parts of her profile and stuck it here y not #ill have another post for halloween plots when i stop spamming the event blog bc my ass doesnt read directions carefully #tws are there just in case none of it is explained graphically but just in case ykno!!

[skrltwtch]

iMessed-Up

Prompt: Person A means to send a message to Person B saying, “I love your hair” but accidentally sends “I love you”. It turns out Person B loves them back. Not wanting to break the latter’s heart, Person A asks them out. They date for six months before Person A realises they’ve fallen head over heels for Person B. (Source of prompt in link at bottom of post.)

Word count: 1,430

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Y/N, 8:05 p.m.: Geoooooorge

George, 8:05 p.m.: Yes, hi it’s me.

George, 8:06 p.m.: What’s up?

George, 8:06 p.m.: Honestly, this doesn’t sound good.

Y/N, 8:06 p.m.: Shut

Y/N, 8:07 p.m.: Up

Y/N, 8:07 p.m.: I want to share pictures of last night

Y/N, 8:07 p.m.: And …

Y/N, 8:07 p.m.: I know you’re not on like, anything

Y/N, 8:08 p.m.: Weird flex, but okay [smirking face emoji]

George, 8:09 p.m.: It’s not weird.

George, 8:09 p.m.: Is it?

Y/N, 8:10 p.m.: Nope. It’s commendable, really

George, 8:11 p.m.: You can quit, you know.

Y/N, 8:12 p.m.: I can, but do I want to

George, 8:12 p.m.: [man shrugging emoji]

Y/N, 8:14 p.m.: Anyway, what I wanted to ask was — I wanted to run some pictures of last night by you because you’re not on anything and I don’t want to be that person who uploads terrible pictures of their friends, especially someone who can’t defend themselves

George, 8:15 p.m.: That’s … sweet.

George, 8:15 p.m.: Thank you.

George, 8:15 p.m.: But I’m certain I look good in all of them.

George, 8:15 p.m.:

Y/N, 8:16 p.m.: You’re grossly photogenic

Y/N, 8:16 p.m.: And I hate you

George, 8:16 p.m.: LOL.

Y/N, 8:18 p.m.: Ok, incoming pic spam. Don’t say I didn’t warn you

Y/N, 8:19 p.m.: Pick three, please?

Y/N, 8:19 p.m.: The best

Y/N, 8:19 p.m.: Your favourites

George, 8:20 p.m.: Bring it on.

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:24 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:25 p.m.: I picked the best of the bunch. There were more

Y/N, 8:26 p.m.: Lots more

George, 8:28 p.m.: These look great.

George, 8:28 p.m.: You look great.

Y/N, 8:29 p.m.: [blushing emoji] [blowing a kiss emoji]

Y/N, 8:29 p.m.: Thank you!

Y/N, 8:30 p.m.: You look smashing, too

George, 8:30 p.m.: Thank you.

George, 8:31 p.m.: Um … I’d go with these.

George, 8:32 p.m.: [image]

George, 8:32 p.m.: [image]

George, 8:32 p.m.: [image]

Y/N, 8:33 p.m.: Yeah, I was thinking of those, too

George, 8:34 p.m.: Don’t we just look cute together?

Y/N, 8:34 p.m.: Absolutely

Y/N, 8:35 p.m.: Ok, I’ll share them — slap on a filter or two first — and I’ll show you the comments

Y/N, 8:36 p.m.: Like I always do [smiling emoji]

George, 8:37 p.m.: I bet most of it will be ‘Why isn’t George on here?’ and ‘That wanker George doesn’t know what he’s missing’.

Y/N, 8:38 p.m.: Eh, that’s about right

Y/N, 8:38 p.m.: But it is your choice

Y/N, 8:39 p.m.: Some people really could afford to not be on Instagram

Y/N, 8:39 p.m.: Not that you’re one of them. But I’m glad you let me post stuff of you

Y/N, 8:40 p.m.: Especially since, you know, you’re in movies now

George, 8:41 p.m.: That doesn’t mean anything will change.

Y/N, 8:42 p.m.: I know

Y/N, 8:42 p.m.: And I’m really happy for you

Y/N, 8:42 p.m.: And proud of you

Y/N, 8:43 p.m.: I like this picture a lot

Y/N, 8:44 p.m.: You’re right. We do look cute together [smiling face with hearts emoji]

George, 8:45 p.m.: Have I ever been wrong?

Y/N, 8:46 p.m.: Shut up

Y/N, 8:46 p.m.: God, I love you

I put my phone down slowly, knowing that all I needed to do next was absolutely fucking nothing. Stupid fingers. Stupid, stupid fingers. I didn’t not love George. I loved him — as a friend. He was nice, and he was so lovely, and so sweet, but it never once crossed my mind that we could be … more than. I hadn’t even finished processing the fact that he’d still hang out, and want to hang out, with me and our other, childhood friends after having landed a couple of roles in which he received top billing. Damn it. ‘Your hair’ was how that sentence was supposed to end. Now I had no idea what kind of end I had sentenced our friendship to.

His sudden reticence after providing such swift responses wasn’t helping. He had read the message. For once I’d welcome the ominous pulsing three dots, just so I’d know he was still there and hadn’t — I couldn’t imagine how he might’ve reacted, and I didn’t know either what kind of reaction I wanted him to have. I did know that what I had to do next depended on his response. And damn it, I needed it now.

‘…’

Look at those dumb dots, bouncing away without a care in the world.

‘…’

Imagine being on the verge of an anxiety attack because of three damn dots. And because the connection between your brain and your fingers picked the best moment possible to fail you.

‘I love you, too.’

My face drained itself of all colour.

Be careful what you wish for, am I right?

He followed up with a heart emoji. No, two. No, three.

I screamed into the nearest pillow. He was serious. This was serious, because he tended to use emojis like they were rare, precious resources on which the world was running low.

I hadn’t a clue what to do. The state of things was undeniable: I was now living in a universe where I told my best friend I loved him when I didn’t, not in that way, and he told me he did, too, yes in that way. I needed counsel. And the one person I could turn to in times like this, and come away enlightened and empowered, was what I happened to need help with. Of course. There was no second best. There never was.

I sighed; my phone felt like a brick in my hand. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t break his heart. I didn’t want to. I’d never dream of it. But would leading him on amount to the same thing? I had seen and read plenty of stories in many forms of media about people who’d chosen to tell or fudge the truth in similar situations, and guess what? Neither course of action culminated in happy endings. If there were any that didn’t make it to online forums about laughable or cringe-worthy attempts at backpedalling, I wasn’t aware.

I needed space. I needed time. To think. I needed to see him. His presence would be calming, even if he’d caused this state of emergency in the first place. I’d know what to do when I see his face — in person, because the sight of his contact picture on my phone and the photos I’d filled our chat with were, for some reason, sending all the circuits in my brain crashing into one another.

I released the breath I’d been holding since the third heart emoji made it from his phone to mine.

I sent him a heart emoji, and I asked him out.

Not like, you know, on a date.

Just out.

✦✧✦✧

I pulled my chair closer to his, leaned into his shoulder, and shoved my phone in front of him. ‘Look at this,’ I said, ‘this’ being a photo of us on our most recent date: our third visit to the Barbican Conservatory after my blunder — one of the classics, just next to getting involved in a land war with Asia — saw us fancying ourselves as a couple.

‘That’s us?’ said George. He took my phone and stared at the picture. ‘We’re fucking adorable.’

It could be the 7,827th time he’d say that about us, and my stomach would still find itself host to a kaleidoscope of butterflies. I’d come to love the idea of an ‘us’. And so did everyone in our social circles, apparently, some well before George and me being an ‘us’ turned out to be one of the rare positive outcomes of me being an arse. He didn’t know about that, and he’d never know about that. I wasn’t in the business of being cruel — I’d clearly never been. Hell, after a certain point, I started to count my blessings daily that I took this gamble: it wasn’t long before I found myself falling head over feet for him. I remembered berating myself once for not seeing this sooner.

‘Everyone agrees,’ I said. ‘Read the comments.’

‘I am,’ he said. ‘It never fails to amuse me how people make such a big deal about me not being on Instagram or whatever. I’m perfectly fine raking in social clout by proxy.’ He took a sip of his salted caramel mocha. ‘Besides, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be on social media now, not when I’m about to start this new project. I think it could be big.’ His fingers interlocked themselves with mine.

‘Of course it’ll be big. It’s with Sam Mendes.’ I grinned. ‘I’m so proud of you,’ I said into his ear.

He leaned in to thank me with a peck on my cheek. That simple act warmed me up better than my pumpkin spice latte.

He passed me back my phone, after which I went back to mindlessly scrolling through my profile, a careful curation of photos of us, food, my outfits, my cat, and just about everything else. It didn’t take me long to reach the catalyst of our relationship: an innocent wefie at Columbia Road Flower Market, where I’d spotted the most beautiful peonies and couldn’t pass up the chance for a commemoration of my latest purchase with my favourite person in the world. My heart swelled. The one visible comment on the photo, made judiciously by a friend, read, ‘Fucking hell, get together already, you two. And tell George his hair’s out of control’.

I put my phone face down on the table and turned to George. ‘I love you,’ I said, ‘and your hair.’

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine #mine

[deralpi]

It seems as though we have to make our own content for a while. Here is my contribution to easing the pain of the hiatus: A Beaujester conversation, but the angst is turned up to eleven.

Hold me close, then let me go [1570 words]

The early dawn sun slanted through the single window. In its rays, dust particles floated in the air, puffed up by life slowly stirring awake. Because of the room’s angular layout, the light illuminated barely half of it; the other half depicted a still dark corner, in which stood an ordinary bed. And on its overused mattress, tucked under layers of blankets, lay one blue tiefling, still deep in slumber.

One would think that the wealth of the Might Nein would ensure them only upper-class lodging for the rest of their days, but once in awhile stakes were too high and discretion was judicious. 

And discretion you paid for with dignity, not coin. 

Three ramshackle rooms for two people each, while one had the pleasure of sleeping alone. In and of itself no unpleasant circumstances, if anything it prompted Beau to reminisce about their earlier beginnings. The debasing part was the creepy innkeeper, whose leer Beau would’ve already wiped off his face if they weren’t trying to stay low. She still almost did it just to quench her mounting agitation.

Beau would call herself a fundamentally angry person. With it came the responsibility to control herself, so innocent bystanders didn’t become first-hand witnesses to her wraith. Beau would wager — though she wasn’t too sure — that that anger had been her primal incentive which had pushed her into martial arts. The excruciating pain of a harsh work-out was an outlet, a way to inflict pain on herself so it wouldn’t be directed at others. Such daily exercises had proven sufficient in containing herself.

At least usually, that was.

For days now Beau has felt frustration churning inside her, putting her on edge. And with each consecutive dream filled with loss, she awoke angrier. 

With her legs folded under her, Beau desperately sought the comfort of deep meditation. All with no success. The harder she tried to calm herself the angrier she became. Suddenly, without her control — as she had feared — her fist crashed into the wall beside her, the wood crackling as it gave way. Beau held the pose, shock suddenly settling in. What is wrong with me? Her body began to shiver despite herself.

“Is everything alright?”

Beau didn’t look at her. Carefully, she withdrew her hand and let it drop into her lap; with the other she began to rub her eyes as if she had just woken up as well, cloaking her unshed tears. “Yes. Go back to sleep. It is still early.” Even to herself, her voice sounded mechanical.

A pregnant pause settled between them. Then, Beau heard the shuffling of the bedding and the tapping of soft footfalls until a pair of blue feet entered her peripheral. Beau didn’t have to see her to know that she was studying the impact beside her, a large dent of shattered wood and tiny splinters with red tips where they had bitten her skin. 

Jester plopped down on her knees in front of her, took Beau’s wounded hand in hers and uttered a few indistinct words. Soothing energy like a soft caress flowed through her skin and expunged her pain. 

Only then did Beau allow herself to look at her for the first time. Jester was a surprisingly restless sleeper, the result of which was a persistent mop of hair after waking that could only be tamed by a long bath. Beau had gone out of her way to poke fun at it, to fashion a plausible reason that would explain her uncontrollable, affectionate grin at the sight of it.

“What is going on, Beau?” Beau hated how much softness she put into her name.

“I don’t know. Nothing and everything, I guess.” It was the truth, though Jester would undoubtedly interpret it as another deflection.

Jester folded her legs, situating herself in front of Beau like a prettier mirror. Her eyes were devoid of any residual drowsiness. Intensity and focus shining within them. It meant that she wouldn’t let this one fly. Jester was naive in many regards, but she was also clever; frustratingly so. Though she had blatantly no clue as to why Beau behaved awkwardly around her, she noticed it and knew how to use it to her advantage. She knew that she only had to sit there and say nothing; the arising uneasiness would tickle a response out of Beau.

It worked like a charm.

“I can’t lose any of you.” Especially not you, Beau was about to add, but she couldn’t. Because it was neither true nor wrong. Every single one of them had accepted her and helped her become the woman she was today and she loved them dearly for it; but losing Jester would be the thing that would truly break her. “I simply can’t.”

“You won’t.”

“But that is a lie, isn’t it?” Beau zoned in on her. “Do you remember what you have said to me? On the boat? That I can become a pirate captain when this is all over?” She paused. “When. Not if.”

Jester’s face convulsed as if recognition had slapped her across the face.

“It’s fine. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m not dumb. I’m not deluding myself into believing that this-” Beau swung her arms wide, indicating the space around her “will last forever. One day we will scatter in all directions, visiting each other only occasionally. Time runs its course and that’s how it ought to be. I just—” Beau fell silent.

“You what?” Jester asked, stretching to lay a hand on her knee. 

Beau lifted herself to her feet abruptly and began to pace the room, kicking up dust. She heard Jester harrumph behind her.

“Listen, Beau,” she said. “Eventually we are going to part ways, yes. I’m also not kidding myself. But neither you nor I know when this separation will knock on our door. For all we know we could be hitting the road together five years from now. Please, don’t allow your fear of the moment where we part to ruin the time we are still together.”

Beau stopped in her tracks. It was self-evident that Jester meant the entire group, but Beau suddenly realized what her issue was; at least part of it. Why does there have to be a timer on our relationship? Why do I have to end up alone, if all I want is to be by her side forever?

“A part of me can not let you go.” Beau looked over at Jester. The rising sun touched her frame. She looked lovely. “The other part thinks I have to.”

A brief quizzical look passed over Jester’s face before anger began to mold it. She jumped to her feet and stamped on the ground for emphasis. “Don’t you dare act dramatic right now. Not ever again. I will not have it!” Beau knew immediately what she was referring to. The Hag’s deal.

Somebody behind Beau knocked on their door. A second later, Fjord’s muffled voice filtered through the wood. “Everything alright?”

Beau flinched. She hated that question. “Everything’s fine. Order breakfast without us; we’re following suit once we’re ready. If I find no bacon on my plate I have to kick somebody’s face in.”

The sound of shuffling boots clanged down the corridor until there was complete silence. With her face half turned towards the door, Beau let her head drop. “We’ll talk later, okay?” She waited a moment for a response, but when no came, she loosened the door latch. 

“What is wrong, Bea—?” Jester cried, a sob choking her out before she could finish saying her name.

Beau was stopped in her tracks once more. Admit it and she will break your heart. Walk away and you will break hers. 

Suddenly, the choice became very easy.

Beau stayed faced towards the door, unable to look at her teary-eyed face while she said it. “I love you, Jester.”

“I love you, to—”

“No, Jester,” Beau interrupted, her heart hammering against her ribcage. “I love you.” 

 A gasp escaped Jester’s mouth. Then, the room went quiet. Beau stood still, wringing her hands nervously. I should’ve had something prepared. The accrued anger and frustration suddenly turned on her. The three most powerful words a person can utter, and out of my mouth, they sound pathetically weak. I should’ve confessed with a heartfelt speech after a grandiose dinner in our most stunning attire with a bouquet of disgustingly beautiful flowers in my hand under the golden sunlight at twilight. 

Not here. Not ever.

Beau glimpsed over her shoulder. Jester’s eyes were wide open, her mouth aghast, her posture stiff. An exemplary image of unbridled shock. Beau never would’ve thought that she would be the one who would manage to strike Jester speechless. In any other situation, she would’ve grinned. In this one, she opened the door. 

“I’m sorry,” she said on her way out.

Did Beau really want to hear what Jester would say? Wasn’t it better to keep up the illusion that nothing had happened, that she didn’t just ruin their friendship? Just a few more hours where her heart would stay intact; was that too much to ask for? 

Twice you have saved me from going down a dark path. What will happen now when such a situation occurs for the third time? Will you still be there to keep me in check?

Or has separation just knocked on our door?

#Critical Role #cr spoilers #Beauregard Lionett #Jester Lavorre #Beaujester #more like angst turned up to fourteen #unfortunately didn’t turn as good as I want it to be #still hope you enjoyed it #my writing

[twinklecheeks]

Friends With Benefits (Jeff Wittek Imagine) Part 1

Summary: Jeff and Y/N have been hooking up for a while. The whole vlog squad assumes they’re dating and Y/N does too but Jeff doesn’t like labels. He eventually starts to express interest in Natalie.

Note: This is my first time writing. Planning on making this a multiple part series, depending on how good it does. Also, I don’t hate Natalie at all! I actually love the idea of Jeff & Nat being a thing. They’d look so cute together.  You’re 21 & Latina in this (maybe) series

Warnings! Smut, fluff, nudity, pregnancy?

Word Count: 2.3k

*How you and Jeff met*

You met at Dom’s apartment after David invited you to film a bit. You assumed he was new because you’ve never seen him before. His accent swooned you over but you didn’t want to make it obvious. David wanted to film the bit where he shows new friends Jonah p*nis because it’s so small. You’ve been friends with David for 2 years and you’ve known Jonah a while now, so you decide to join Toddy, Jeff and Brandon in the bathroom too see it.

Jeff: Are these the types of videos he does all the time

Y/N: honestly, it happens way too often. He’d do anything for content.

Jonah pulls down his pants and all of us just bust out laughing. At this point your just wheezing and trying to calm down at what you just saw. All of you walk out of the bathroom and Jeff smiles at you and says “you have a cute laugh.” You just wanted to combust in that moment and all you could respond with was a smile. You keeping your distance from Jeff the rest of the time you’re there cause you were nervous and didn’t want to embarrass yourself by saying something stupid. You have social anxiety so it’s a little hard for you to meet new people but once they get to know you, you’re an open book. After that you had to leave to film your own video. You said goodbye to everyone, including Jeff. Y/n: It was nice meeting you. Hopefully you’ll stick around w/ us. He smiles and says “ I hope so too.” After you left, he asked Todd about you.

Jeff: “Hey, what was up with Y/n”

Todd: what do you mean

Jeff: I feel like she was avoiding me or somethin

Todd: Oh no. Don’t take offense to that. She’s really shy when she meets new people. She’ll warm up to you.

*2ish months after meeting Jeff*

As time went on, Jeff started to hang out more and more w/ the vlog squad and you two started to get to know each other. You learned that he was born and raised in Staten Island, he lived in Miami, got arrested for doing dumb shit and eventually turned his whole life around and moved to LA a couple of years ago. He was surprised to find out that you were born in New York City too; but you were born in Brooklyn.

Jeff: I had a bunch of friends that lived in Brooklyn. We might have seen each other around or something.

Y/n: Haha maybe but my family and I moved away when I was 11 tho. We moved to Seattle cause my parents really struggled to make ends meet in the city. They loved it but had to leave. It’s hard living there, raising 3 kids.

Jeff: Yeah I feel ya. My parents struggled too in Staten Island but they made it work.

Both of you talked the whole night until you both of you guys fell asleep on David’s couch. You forgot where you were when you realized you were still at David’s house. You tried to move but Jeff had his arm around your waist. You smiled at the fact that you two were getting so close. This started to happen a lot. You guys started to have movie nights together and would end up cuddling on the couch or one of y’alls beds.

*Your first kiss/ first time w/ Jeff*

It was New Years Eve. You spent the night partying at David’s house. You and Jeff have basically become best friends in the 2-3 months you’ve known each other. You were hoping that this would finally be the night you kiss him. As everybody started to countdown the final minutes while watching the ball drop on tv, your heart starts to beat like crazy. You’re right by Jeff and he has his arm around you. Both of you look watch the tv and it’s the final ten seconds. Everyone is yelling TEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN, SIX, FIVE… You started to have your doubts that you to would kiss and it’s like everything happened in slow motion. As it counted down the final 4 seconds, Jeff caught you off guard and pulled you in for a kiss. It felt like fireworks were going off when you kissed him. You guys pulled away but this wave of confidence came over you and pulled him in for another kiss but it was more sensual/ needy. Both of you saw the lust in your eyes and you wanted to take him right there but he started to pull you out of David’s house to head to his car. He pushed you against his car and started to ravish you. You grabbed his face and moved his lips from your neck to connect with yours. He bit down on your lip, as you moaned and parted your lips, allowing his tongue to enter. You lightly pushed him away and you guys get into the car, acting like horny teenagers. “Baby if i weren’t driving like a maniac right now, I’d fuck you right in the back seat.” You notice Jeff’s giant bulge and decide to help him out. You start to feel his throbbing member through his pants and Jeff let’s out a moan. You unzip his pants and see his cock spring up. You were excited but also intimidated at how big he was. You unbuckle your seatbelt and move closer to Jeff; the pre-cum oozing at the head. You then stroke his cock for a bit and then you started to give him a blowjob. You tease him by licking the head and Jeff swerves a bit. “Doll, are you trying to kill both of us. Jesus, This is the longest 15 minute drive to my place ever.” Jeff stops at a red light and that’s when you went all in. You hollow your cheeks so you can suck off as much as you can. His cock hit the back out your throat; you started to deepthroat Jeff while he’s still driving. Jeff hearing you choke of his cock is the music to his ears. You guys are about five minutes away and your contemplating whether to suck him until he cums in you mouth or wait until he cums inside you when you get to his place (wrap it before you tap it). You massaged his balls and continue to deepthroat him right before he was about to cum, you guys arrived at his place. You continue to deepthroat him. “Oh shit doll I’m gonna-” He reached his climax and came into your mouth. You look up to see the beads of sweat on his head. He almost cums again just by watching you swallow his cum. He pulls you in for another kiss and you look down to see that his cock is still rock hard. “Someone is still in the mood” you say while smirking. “Babe, you won’t be able to walk in the morning.” Both of you practically run into his building and you can’t keep your hands off each other. He almost takes off your dress in the elevator to take you right there. As he got his door open, all he says is “jump” and the rest of the night felt like a fever dream. And boy he was right on me not being able to walk.

*Current day*

You and Jeff act more and more coupley but he doesn’t want anything serious for right now because he had gotten out of a 3-4 years relationship 6 months before you met. At the moment, you don’t know where you and Jeff stand. You guys fuck multiple times a week and then he leaves your place without explanation. Y/n doesn’t want to say anything because she doesn’t want this to stop. She has such strong feelings for Jeff but is too scared to tell him how she feels. Over the past couple of weeks, you’ve noticed that Jeff has become kind of distant from you. You see in the comments, of several videos that Jeff and Natalie have become a thing. He’s talked about her multiple times on Scott’s podcast, fans make edits, made a joke about having kids with her at coachella and he was being flirty with her at vidcon by asking her who she was dating in front of hundreds of fans on stage during the vlog squad Q&A. You see Jeff’s insta story of Natalie with that pink filter with the romantic music. And to top it all off, the last time you guys went to Vernon Hills to visit David’s family, you were in the car with David, Jason, Ilya, Dom and Jeff is following behind. Dom sees a girl from a far and says “Damn look at that fucking ass.” Everyone is laughing cause they realize it was Natalie and David tattle tales on Dom to Natalie. You hear Jeff say “why do you think I pulled over?” But you still decide to ignore it the fact that he’s crushing on Natalie. You get back to LA and Jeff spends the night at your place. The movie nights don’t happen anymore, so has the cuddling. You both basically fuck until you both orgasm then he leaves right after. “You know you can spend the night if you want” Jeff responds with “Why would I do that?” Damn. That hurt. You play it cool and start to cry yourself to sleep right as he leaves your apartment.  

A week passes by and you hear no word from Jeff at all. David texts you to come over so you can film. You enter the house and see that the guys are in the backyard. You were getting closer and you hear Zane ask “whatever happened to you and y/n? I thought y’all were a thing.” Jeff scoffs and says “ugh could never date y/n, she reminds me too much of my ex.” At this point your ears are fuming. “Just because I’m short and Latina like his ex he doesn’t to be with me?” You grab a bottle of tequila that was in David’s cabinet and walk into the backyard and spill it all over Jeff’s head and it was perfect timing because David was recording. “Y/n what the fuck” He grabbed you by the arm and you slap him in the face hard enough to leave a red mark. “Do I still remind you of your ex?” you smile as you walk away. That was the most ballsy thing you’ve done since you kissed him on New Years.

*A month later*

Your life without Jeff has been great. After that night, you blocked his number and all social media accounts. The last you heard was that Jeff asked out Natalie; you don’t hate Natalie, she’s a great person! You still hang out with the vlog squad but you act as if nothing happened. You just started your senior year at USC and can’t wait to graduate next spring. Everything has been a real life changer for you. You were eating healthier, you started going to the gym and you realized how dependent you were on Jeff to make you happy. Just as you thought everything was perfect, it started to go downhill.

Y/n woke up not feeling great. She felt very light headed and very bloated. Y/n assumed she started her period. She checked to see but there was nothing there; then realizes she hasn’t gotten her period in a while but doesn’t think anything of it because she’s never had a regular period. You head out to go jogging on a trail, one that you know Jeff doesn’t go on. It’s normal to feel out of breath but you felt like you were going to pass out. Deciding that you worked yourself too hard, you walk the rest of the way. The last thing you remember was trying walk up the trail. Y/n wakes up in a hospital room extremely confused. The nurse walks in hearing you ask what the hell happened. “Good afternoon Ms. L/n, you fainted on a hiking trail. You were just dehydrated. You should really be drinking more under your condition.” Y/n looked at her dumbfounded “my condition??” The nurse catches on and knows something you don’t. You see her walk outside and speak to the doctor. You try to depict what she’s saying but can’t hear a thing. “Hello Ms. L/N, how are you feeling?” You ignore the question and cut straight to the point “She said I had a condition, what is it.” The nurse and the doctor looked back at each other and looks back at you. “Well, it has come to our attention that you probably had no knowledge of this but we ran some blood tests and…..” “AND WHAT”...... “It has come to our attention that you are 9 weeks pregnant” Out of nowhere, you just start laughing cause you think this is a joke. “You’ve got to be kidding me” “Mam, I can assure you that we’re not.” “Is it too early to ask for an ultrasound?” “We’d thought you’d ask,” They bring the machine from outside and put the cold jelly on your stomach. It takes a minute to find it. In the back of your mind, you’re praying that you’re not pregnant. You’re only 21. This was the time to party, hang out with friends, live your life, graduate college….. Oh shit. College. It’s your SENIOR YEAR. You prayed HARD that you weren’t pregnant and the boom, you see a blob on the screen……. The nurse turns on the doppler to see if you can hear the heartbeat. You then hear “bum bum bum bum.” You already knew who’s it was, you have no idea how you were going to tell him, or if you’re going to tell him.

Is y/n gonna keep it? Is she going to tell Jeff? What the hell is she going to tell her family if she does keep it? Who knows…… 

Side note: I’m sorry if this is bad! It’s my first time writing fanfiction and I give huge props to people who do this on a daily cause this mess is hard. Oh and I was there at vidcon when Jeff asked who’s Natalie dating. 

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek imagines #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek fanfic #jeff wittek fanfiction #jeff wittek smut #jeff wittek blurb #jeff wittek fluff #jeff wittek angst #vlog squad #vlog squad imagine #the vlog squad #vlog squad imagines #the vlog squad imagine #david dobrik #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik imagines #zane hijazi #todd smith #toddy smith #scott sire #scotty sire #heath hussar #carly incontro #erin gilfoy #liza koshy #corinna kopf

[vldelijah-blog]

well hello ! my name is blaire (19, she / her, est), and though my app and this intro are very late i’m ecstatic to be here ! i’ve had muse for this baby for a while but was taking forever to make him so here he is ... 4am’s mr. elijah kang ! he’s definitely a lot to handle, but he’s here to bring the party to veil and i’m so excited to see all the craziness he gets in ! i’m super excited to plot with you guys, so please like this if you want to plot something, and check here for his bio, private profile, and public profile ! plots coming soon, i swear, but you can find some general ideas under the cut alongside trivia ! let’s go !

BACKGROUND.

born in la, california !! will always be a cali baby at heart, both his parents are originally from korea but moved there because they wanted to start a family in america !

he has two younger siblings - bora, who’s 12, and jandi, who’s 25 ! such an older brother, he teases / loves them to death and will fly to cali just to fight whoever hurts them !

original name is eunkwang elijah kang, but around middle school he changed it because a.) people always asked him about it or couldn’t pronounce it and b.) he didn’t think it fit him

the only people who still call him that are his parents when they’re speaking korean and his grandparents / aunts in korea. he introduces himself as elijah or eli nowadays, though !

but he prefers eli somewhat because elijah makes him feel like he’s getting in trouble ?? lmao !

his mom tried to get him into child acting because acting was always something she wanted to do, but it didn’t go very far for him

his father hated the idea of him going into the entertainment industry because he didn’t feel like it was a stable career, and thought that as the oldest of the family he should be financially well off

consequently, him and his dad’s relationship has become a little difficult now, he loves him a lot but is frustrated his dad doesn’t seem to be happy for him pursuing his dreams

even so, he started getting into singing because his mom had him join the church choir she lead ! he pretended he hated it but he loved getting all the old people to smile on that little stage

but he really got into performing when he tried to impress a girl with a talent show & won second place by doing a really cringy song & dance performance with friends !

feel free to read more in his bio, but long story short he auditioned as a joke and had the surprise of the century when he made it past auditions AND callbacks !

the idea of being in the “kpop” industy still seems so weird to gim, esp bc it’s never something he saw himself doing ?? he’s a r&b type of guy so it was really weird for him to think about at first

they decided to go with this “flirty bad boy image” for him which isn’t too out of character tbh ?? but they also thought he had the look of a rapper so started training him to be one ! so now it’s one of his positions, and though he finds it really fun he’s embarrassed to call himself one because he doesn’t feel like he has the skills to rap. 

he has a v unique voice, similar to wonpil’s, but since he had no proper training prior to joining the company they had to work with him a lot bc he didn’t really know how to use it !

was a little apprehensive at the whole “boy band” thing at first, until he realized just how much he loved it ?? and then became very invested and has been working hard ever since !he has high hopes for the group and thinks that, as long as they work hard, they can gain a stable following

also was like thank god bc he can’t dance for shit so that helped him otu a l o t !!

PERSONALITY.

like i said before, his personality’s not too different from his brand the company is trying to market him as once they debut ! so “flirty bad boy” pretty much sums it up lmao. he’s got the whole rebellious streak going on, but i wouldn’t call him bad for real because he’s still got a good heart, he’s just dumb and gets into equally dumb scenarios. i think that this pretty much sums it up:

haha !! anyways he is definitely a flirt, even when he doesn’t mean to be ! but he usually does, and isn’t afraid at all at expressing his attraction to others ! ( on that note - he’s pansexual fyi ! ) but his downfall is that he’s terrible with commitment, he’s just not in the mood to settle down and doesn’t know how but i’m sure he’s got a long list of romantic connections ! 

he’s got a bit of a potty mouth, he doesn’t really have a filter ( unless he’s somewhere for work ofc ) but even then he’s had a few embarrassing slip-ups. def got a few wrist slaps for it bc apparently he can’t shut up !! but please lmk if you don’t want him to curse in our threads bc even though it won’t be that bad in threads, i don’t want anyone to feel uncomfy !

very spontaneous, definitely the type to call you up at 3am on a sunday asking to go out some random place with him, he just loves adventure ! some find it endearing while others find it chaotic, he’s really a hit or miss in terms of this !

a charmer, he knows how to say things that people here....especially when trying to get himself out of a sticky situation ! if he had a superpower it’d be sweet talking people, he’s got a way with words and that’s ultimately how he’s become as successful as he has ! once 4am debuts he’ll definitely give fans lots of fanservice and is the type to “marry” them at fansigns and such.

on that note he’s very deceptive and isn’t pathological liar, but can do it v casually if he thinks it’ll make his situation any better ?? not a good thing but yk just how it is !

bc of these he’s quite the life of the party, and actually gravitates toward quieter people because he wants them to have fun & he’s def the first to try to break the awkward tension !

super carefree - the world could be crumbling, and this man will make a joke about it ! it can be good in stressful situations due to his ability to keep a leveled head, but at the same time it causes him to make poor decisions because he’s less concerned about the end results.

a downside is that he can have a bit of a temper, and if he feels like someone’s competing with him or trying to prove him wrong he gets pretty defensive. also if someone breaks his trust this man holds the biggest grudge i stg

tw: alcohol ! he loves to drink, it’s a habit he started back in america but moved over here ! he can’t do it quite as often bc of company rules he has to maneuver, but if you ask him to go out for some drinks, he’ll never say no.

just...silly lmao !! will literally come into his member’s rooms in the middle of the night just to do a stupid dance then walk out & leave.

very loyal & protective over those he loves !! he’s an older brother, so that’s rooted deep in him and he cares deeply about those he gets close too !

not a leader in any way ( thank god atlas saw that ), but he has his own way of checking up on people ! he’s not the talk-about-your-feelings type per se, but if he sees someone’s down he’ll go out his way to make them laugh or do something to make them feel better

also totally irrelevant but definitely has a retro eboy aesthetic going on here ?? his style very much so resembles jaewon his fc, but with a tinge more grunge ?? his ig is so eboy guys i just...he’s a mess

CONNECTIONS.

besties pls ?? 

exes ?? i feel like his exes would’ve ended pretty messily bc he’s the Worst but hey maybe they still vibe !!

drinking buddies ftw !! shall they drink & be merry together !! bonus if ur muse is a stupid drunk two and these two just are losing it 

he misses his siblings a ton so some younger muses, esp girls, for him to interact would be great ? would 100% baby them & treat them like one of his sisters !!

someone equally wild as elijah who he can always count on for a good party or getting into some sot of trouble.

fwb, a no-strings-attached situation except maybe later on ?? depends let’s see he just wants to have fun !

someone very different to him, they’re away of his personality but in contrast are very structured ! it would be super fun to interact with someone like that, see if they butt heads ?

in contrast,  a father-son/mother-son type of friendship where they look out for him to make sure he doesn’t take it too far and he makes sure they take care of themselves and have fun !

give me some rivalry ot enemies pls i love the drama

i promise i’ll add more soon and do a proper plots page but i’m literally so tired i can’t function

#vldintro #( & ooc. ) #def rbing this in the morning since it's such a weird time ! #i'll message everyone tomm morning !

[vividlybnha]

Aizawa x Reader: Pumpkin Spice

Challenge | Day (1) - (October 19 | Pumpkin Carving / “Pumpkin spice is overrated.”)

Category | (Writing/Story)

Triggers: None

Word Count: 2553

Relationship: Aizawa x Reader

@bnhalloween-challenge​

The fall air brushed against you, pushing your clothes against your body and your hair into your face, the cold filtering through your coat and sinking into your skin. Leafs sprinkled the winds, softly flowing from the trees and making their way across the city streets. It was a perfect day to be outside. The perfect Fall.

It was a real wonder how you got Aizawa outside honestly. He usually insisted that if he were to hang out with you it would 1. Not be around that many people, 2. Be Simple, and 3. Not be long. Though the list was simple enough, your outings usually consisted of the new cat cafe around the corner, any coffee shop, or at either one of your houses to watch terrible movies and judge the characters decisions.  

You glanced around the streets, groups of teens just getting out of school packed some of the stores, parents, and couples lazing around and enjoying the picture perfect weather. You had definitely broke rule number one. But looking at Aizawa he didn’t seem to mind it, content in his face, masked by his usual expression.

Usually, the coffee shops that you both conquered where small places, paparazzi a rare occurrence, but more likely if you insisted on bringing Midnight and Present Mic along. But this time they aren’t and it’s just you and Aizawa. Usually comforted but the sound of explosions or drama from a movie but today its just you, him and the streets. You wished it was under different circumstances, one where he’d intertwine his fingers with your and smile as you walked down the boulevard but it wasn’t. You needed to be content with now, the wind filtered through you again. And you were.

 You glance over at him. He seems unnerved and unaware of your stare, casually watching the people through the store windows and reading the signs. You never had many problems talking to him, maybe over talking but now your mind scrambles to find a topic.

“H-how do you like fall, I see you more like a winter guy.”

Aizawa turns his head to you, brushing the hair out of his eyes and shrugs gently. His voice is gruff but soft all the same, it's a mixture that leaves you shivering.

“It’s...cold. I’m fine with the cold though. It’s better than the heat.”

When he is finished he turns to watch the streets again. You open your mouth to respond, something witty at the tip of your tongue.

“Where are we going?”His eyebrows are quirked, lips slightly pushed out, almost accusatory. You slap your hand over your chest, a dark chuckle leaves your lips.

“What? You don’t appreciate a surprise. I am good at planning things you know. I don’t think you’d be friends with me otherwise.”

He snorts at you. You revel at the fact that you have a conversation going, your usual snarky talk and his sarcastic response.

“Oh really? Cause last time you brought over the first Jurassic Park and it was replaced with Scooby Doo. And no, I don’t really like surprises. Last time Hizashi surprised me we went to Cracker Barrel, they sang for my birthday. He left with at least 5 bruises. I’m not above violence.”

He gives you a smirk, evil rummaging through his eyes. You can’t help but laugh at him. He loved his petty little threats. He loved to threaten his students, the jokes ending in little ‘logical ruses’, while that didn’t work with adults he still managed to find a way, his own friendly way. You honestly don’t know how your friendship evolved to take such a dark turn, but it was his take on your relationship and more talk than you had when you first met him.  

“Hey! Come on, how was I supposed to know that the wrong movie was there?”

He gives you an unconvinced look, laughter on his lips.

“By checking it.

You glare at him, stuffing your hands under your armpits, and jutting your chin to your left, away from him.

“You are so mean, ya know? Besides, you enjoyed it.” You smirk back at him, arms still crossed in defiance but smirking all the same.

Aizawa shrugs his shoulders, a gruff groan coming from him, face turned towards the passing cars. You take his unresponsiveness as a win, a smile adorning your face.

The walk returned to its casual silence, the whooshing of cars and chatter of people kept you both satisfied for the majority of it. You read the signs as you passed them, searching for the new Fall-themed store. About a few stores down, you noticed it.

The small building was on the edge of the corner, windows tinted a soft orange from the hazy lights inside. It practically screamed comfort and warmth. Another gust of wind pushed into you. You began to walk faster, Aizawa grunting as he kept up, not saying anything about your speedy pace.

Arriving at the door you threw your hands up as if to present it.

“Ta-da!” Your wide smile split into your cheeks, the cold numbing the tips of them, joining in at your nose and ears.

Nothing.

Your hands grew cold, as they had just been ejected from their warm home of your pockets. Aizawa just gave you an unimpressed look.

“...And presenting!”

Aizawa stood, a slight shiver shaking him as the wind covered the both of you. He didn’t look upset, which was great but neither was he curious.

“......Here we are!”

SIlence.

“Shouta please, I’m running out of ways to show it off.”

“We could have just gone to the cat cafe again.”

Your furrowed your eyebrows at him, “What? No? It’s a Fall-themed coffee shop, you gotta expand your horizons! Come onnnnn! You like coffee.”

You opened the door, ushering him inside and out of the cold. He reluctantly went in, glaring at you.

“This is dumb.”

You shushed him, glaring back at him.

“Hey, you can hate me all you want for this but coffee is still coffee, and I’m paying so I know your staying.”

You laughed at the look he gave you, bordering on annoyed cat and angry toddler. He knew you were right, and it seemed he didn’t like it.

He followed you to the line, watching as you pointed out the drinks.

“Oh! Cinnamon swirl!... Halloween apple seems good-“

He gazed lazily at the board while you called off the names. You gave him a look every now and then. He didn’t look uncomfortable, but nor did he have the look he usually had when you both judged movies (which was a soft appreciation, smile curled at the edge of his lips. But he was always sure to wipe it off when he noticed your gaze.) Which was a soft mixture of amusement and laziness. But for now he seemed fine, and you could live with that.

“OH!”

He snapped his head to look at you with your loud exclamation, along with a few of the customers nearby.

“They have pumpkin spice!”

Aizawa groaned and rolled his eyes at you, “Oh don’t tell me-“

“Pumpkin spice is good Aizawa! Don’t fight me on this.”

Aizawa gave you a glare, playful aggravation radiating from him,

“Really, Well I think that Pumpkin spice is overrated.”

You gasped, once more throwing your hand over your chest, dramatically throwing yourself back and looking at him with wide eyes.

“Now now dear sir! I have respected almost everything you have said to me! I will not allow this kind of behavior to continue!”

He let out a soft laugh, which sounds more like a relieving sigh, glancing at you through his tousled hair.

“You once said that I was a monster for eating the cream before the cookie of an oreo. I think you can let this slide.”

You glance at him before moving up in the line, turning your lips upward in a smile and pointed your finger at him.

“Hey, I did say almost but this is different Shouta! You’re just freaky! This is pumpkin spice! Without pumpkin spice, Fall wouldn’t be Fall. It would be like a world without cats!”

He gave you an unimpressed look, “Don’t compare cats with pumpkin spice. I could certainly live in a world without it.”

“Well, I couldn’t!”

You approached the counter, Aizawa trailing behind you. You gave the display case a glance as you made your way up.

“Hello, what would y’all like?”

“Can I get a-“ You looked Shouta in the eyes, he simply rolled his-“Pumpkin spice latte and two of those cute leaf cookies you guys have over there.”

Aizawa walked up, his melancholy voice ordering a “ White chocolate mocha” before following you down to one of the side tables after you pay. You almost make a joke about his preference for coffee and his like of sweets but you didn’t.

“You know I’m joking though right, your not a freak.”

Aizawa looks at you, you can’t decipher what his face means but he seems accepting of it, you sit on your seat, looking at him, trying to make sure that he knows that with all your joking his is still good. He looks away.

It’s quiet, but it's a sweet silence. You watch one of the windows, the people weaving in and out of stores and the trinkets that line the windows. It really is a beautiful day. You look back at Aizawa, he looks restless, lips curving into a wiggly line, and eyes fixed on you, he looks a slight red, not his usual pale, you can’t tell if its the ambiance of the shop or something else.

“You look uncomfortable, if you want we can go to your house after this, we can pick up a movie on the way if you want?” The usual playful tone had left your lips, your eyebrows furrowed together and rise as you watch him.

He looks at the table, he doesn’t want to say much, you recount your talks on the way here. Did you say something?

“Did I do something?”

He turns to look at you again, his mouth open to say something, anything.

“Order number 13!”

You peep at your receipt, the bold number 13 looks back at you, you groan and get up from your seat. A lingering look at Aizawa before turning to the counter and grabbing the drinks.

You arrive back at the booth and Aizawa is watching the window, you set the drinks down, sliding his cookie and drink to him before joining him with looking at the window.

It’s getting late now, the orange sky turning darker. You bet it’s cold out there, you curse yourself for not bringing something heavier. You look back at Aizawa, he doesn’t look sad or angry, if anything maybe embarrassed. You want to question him again, but he looks at you once more, a small bit of a smile on his lips.

Aizawa stands and you look at him expectantly. You don’t know what he is ready to say but you wait patiently.

He doesn’t say anything but grabs his cookie and drink and starts to walk to the door, he passes your chair when you finally hear his gruff voice.

“You coming?”

You let out a gasp, not expecting it and gather your items in your arms and rush to the door, trying to keep pace.

As soon as you leave, his pace slows enough for him to catch up. “Hey! Where are we going?”

He doesn’t answer but continues to walk, sipping his drink and walking faster again.

“Hey, stop being all broody and mysterious! You already opened up to me and I’m not allowing you to go back.”

He didn’t stop but you knew he heard you. You huffed and hurried.

It takes a minute until he finally stops, chest leaving small heaves of air. You look at your surroundings and see the small park. It’s beautiful, the fences boxing in the park are metals that twist and turn around each other and curves around the trees and weaves in and out of the structures. There is a small pond in the center, reflecting the dark orange color of the sky, small ducks float in the water.

“...Aizawa?”

He looks back at you, a soft smile on his face, he drags you to a bench.

“Ok, stop being a jackass and answer me.”

He can feel how serious you are and gives you a regretful look.

“I’m sorry… I just…”

He looked at the pond and then the sky, cold covering us like a blanket.

“You accept me, right.”

You look at him, his face is pink and his lips are the same wiggly line.

“Is this because I said you were weird? You're really not Aizawa ,you're great.”

He looked back at you.

“That’s the thing, you accept me. You think I’m… great. You think I’m good no matter what.”

“Your evil in the sense that you don’t like pumpkin spice but I can accept that.”

Aizawa let out a chuckle, giving you a small smile. “And I can accept that you can be a dumbass sometimes.” You didn’t get the chance to call him out on that.

“But you still accept me. Even with all my trauma and being...like me, you still stay with me. Even when I fall asleep when we watch movies, when I make you pay for our outings, and when I’m rude.”

You place a soft hand on his arm. He looks at you, his eyes watery. You open your mouth, ready to console him, ready to wipe his tears away.

“I like you.”

He looks scared, eyebrows furrowed with fear in his eyes, his hand is placed on yours and he is holding your hand so tight. You feel your face heat but you don’t make any assumptions, maybe he just wanted you to know how much he cared. He couldn’t like you like that, could he?

“I like you to Aizaw-”

“No.” His hand is holding yours so tight, he looks so desperate for you to know.

“You're more to me than anything else. You mean so much to me, I like you more than that.”

You can’t talk, your throat is dry, you feel your eyes begin to water.

“M-me too.”

He brings his hand to your face, his hand has relaxed, he feels so soothing and warm.

“Can I?” He brings his lips close to you, eyes half-lidded and full of light. You nod, the smile breaching onto your face and you push yourself closer to him.

You connect. Lips softly placed on his, and its everything you wished for, everything you yearned for. Your smiling and you can feel his smile too, your teeth clash together but its perfect all the same.

You pull apart, happy and you can feel the lightness in your chest. Aizawa looks at you, blushy and smiling.

“You taste good.”

You can’t help but laugh, head thrown back, you can feel him squeeze your hand.

“It’s the pumpkin spice.”

He groans and pulls his hand off of yours.

“Not to overrated now, huh?”

He rolls his eyes but grabs your hands again. Pressing into you, canceling out the cold, kissing you again.

“No, no it's not.”

#13daysofbnha #bnhahalloweenchallenge #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #x reader #fanfiction #bnha fiction #coffee #halloween challenge #i love my boi #i know this is dumb and it went a whole different way than what i wanted but i finished it #thats all that matters #sorry its so late #;-; #sorry its not about the pumpkin spice #just little hints

[reddie-prompts]

Freckles and Constellations

(Reddie fic based on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70L9mzLMTEg which is a rlly good song, Dodie Clark is an amazing artist, you should go listen to her music) (another note, I headcanon that Richie plays the guitar and sings really good sadfg)

It was a cool day in Derry, was fall was transitioning into winter, and the Losers were hanging out in the barrens, where they’d started a small fire to keep warm. Along with the fire, they’d all wrapped themselves in two big blankets. “It’s just extra warmth so we won’t get sick,” was the excuse Eddie gave, but they all knew it was an excuse to cuddle with his friends. Of course, none of them objected. They sat around the fire, laughing, telling jokes and “horror stories” from their holidays spent at their family’s. Every once in awhile, the phrase “so who’s gonna feed the fire?” would come up, and would met by a few mumbles, and occasionally someone would yell out “Nose goes!”, either way, Mike always ended up being the one to get up and stir the fire, and add in a few more sticks, since he knew if he didn’t, no one else would. There was a particular time he got up to stir the fire, which Richie piped up to, saying “Ah, bless you, beautiful baby boy. Mike, my man, if it weren’t for you, we’d all freeze.” Everyone chuckled and shook their heads at this. “Maybe the world would be better if Richie Tozier did freeze.” Mike retorted, sitting back down. “Aw, c’mon Mike, you know you love me. You all do.” Richie said, reaching his arm around Bill and Stan to poke Mike’s arm. There was a sarcastic “yeahhh” shared between the Losers after Richie said that, which sent him into a giggle fit. More than 7 hours had passed since they’d started the fire, and the sky was starting to get dark. Bill stood up, and looked at his watch. “Well guys, it’s been lovely, but I gotta get home before dinner, or mom’ll have a fit.” Stan stood up and wiped his hands on his pants before grabbing Bill’s hand. “Yeah, and I’m having dinner with him, and believe it or not, I don’t want to have dinner with my boyfriend’s corpse.” Bev snickered and rested her head on Mike’s shoulder. “Okay lovebirds, get outta ‘ere then.” Bill and Stan glanced at each other for a second, then looked away blushing. Stan rubbed the back of his neck and Bill waved to all of them, beofre they began to climb the rocky cliff by the bridge a few yards away from where they’d set up “camp”. Richie whistled after them, yelling something dumb about them not kissing too much in front of Bill’s parents. It wasn’t long after that when Ben’s watch went off, signalling the time his mom had given him to be home. “Damn. Sorry guys, I gotta motor. Y’know my mom’s rule about curfew and the cops ‘n such.” He stood up, and was a bit surprised to see Mike follow him. “I’ll walk you,” he said, clarifying why he also stood up, after noticing Ben’s weird expression. “I gotta get home anyways.” Ben smiled and nodded, turning to the last three Losers. “Will you guys be okay here yourselves?” “Yeah, I’ll watch the fire since these two won’t.” Eddie said, pointing a thumb at Richie and Bev. Richie shrugged, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “He’s not wrong.” Mike rolled his eyes, smiling. “Okay, see you guys tomorrow maybe?” “Maybe.” The three responded in unison. The night began to get darker, and the fire began to die, the three remaining Losers huddles closer together, Bev and Eddie resting their heads on Richie’s shoulders. Eddie yawned, nuzzling into Richie’s neck. “Getting tired, Eds?” Eddie shook his head. “Yeah, a little bit, but I’ll be fine.” Bev sat up and stretched, blinking a few times, in attempt to keep herself awake. “Nah, I’m getting sleepy, too, we should get going.” She stood up, and grabbed the stick they’d been using to stir the fire, and poked at the embers. “Who wants to put it out? I’ve got a water bottle.” Richie instantly stood up, grinning. “I’ll do it!” “I only have one bottle, if you don’t put it out, if you fuck up,” Bev warned, turning around, and picking up the bottle from the ground, “I’ll kick your ass. I’m tired and I want to go home, so let’s not mess around, okay? Richie nodded, and grabbed it from her, unscrewing the cap. He gently dumped it in, making a show to prove to Bev he’d do it right. Once the fire was out, he gave the bottle back to Bev, and turned to Eddie, who looked like at any moment he could pass out. “Hey, Eds, Eddie Spaghetti, you there, buddy?” He asked, snapping his fingers in front of Eddie’s face. Eddie slapped his hand away with a scowl. “Don’t call me that.” Richie laughed, and held out a hand to him. “We’re heading off, space kadet. You coming?” Eddie grabbed his hand and stood up, wobbling a bit since he’d been sitting in practically the same position for the past 7 hours, and they were a bit numb. Richie snorted, grabbing his forearm to help keep him stable. “Thanks,” Eddie said, wiping his hands on his jeans. He leaned over and picked up the blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. “Alright, Bev is it okay if we drop you off first?” Eddie asked, shivering a bit now that he didn’t have the heat of his friends and the fire warming his small body. “Yeah, that’s fine. You look cold though, you can keep my blanket, just give it back whenever.” Eddie smiled gratefully, and the began their journey to Bev’s. “So your old man’s not gonna kill ya for being out so late?” Richie asked as they neared her house. “Oh, I’m sure he’s in bed by now. If not, I’ll sneak in the back door, and pretend I’ve been home for hours.” She winked and gave them a thumbs up. As the walked up the block she lived on, they all looked at the front window, checking to see if it was on. If it was, her father was still awake, and if it wasn’t, he wasn’t. Luckily for her, it was off, and she sighed with relief. She kissed both of them on the cheeks and left them with a “Oh thank god. See you guys tomorrow!” before jogging off to her house. As soon as Bev entered her house, Richie dipped his hand under the blanket to grab Eddie’s hand. The two had been dating for a few weeks now, and hadn’t told the Losers yet, just because both of them were nervous about the entire thing. They knew their friends would accept them, but the relationship was so new, the anxiety was just too high for them to say anything yet. Eddie smiled up at Richie, and leaned on his side. “Rich, I’m not ready to go home yet.” He whined softly, squeezing his hand. Richie smiled, and squeezed his hand back. “We can stop by my place for a bit and hang out. I doubt anyone’s home, we can chill in my room, so then incase anyone does come home, I can sneak you out the window.” Eddie smiled and nodded. He hated being sneaky, but he loved how much Richie cared for him, especially going to the length of shoving him out the window, and sprinting back to Eddie’s house. 

They walked into Richie’s house and shed their jackets. “You want some coffee to warm you up?” Richie asked. “I know you don’t know how to use the coffee machine.” Eddie replied, laughing. “I’ll do it. You go upstairs and clean off your bed.” “Hey! It’s not that dirty!” Richie said, holding his hand to his chest in a dramatic, offended manner. Eddie put his hands on his hips. “Do you really want to hang out with your boyfriend with your cumrags on your bed?” He raised an eyebrow. Richie opened his mouth to protest, then ran upstairs. Eddie laughed as he walked into the kitchen. He filled a filter, slid it into place, flipped the lid down. He crossed the room to the sink, and grabbed two mugs from the drain rack and took the empty one to the coffee machine. He put it under the dispenser, and pressed “start”.

Richie threw his clothes off his bed, and kicked them into the corner of the room. He quickly made his bed, then sat on it, messing with his fingers impatiently. Not more than a minute had passed when he decided he was bored, and he leaned over to the other side of his bed, and picked up his guitar. Eddie grabbed both mugs and began up the stairs. He nearly tripped twice, and almost screamed because he almost spilt his coffee, but he didn’t, and he was proud of himself. He pushed Richie’s bedroom door open with his foot, and smiled. Richie was on his bed strumming away at his guitar, singing under his breath. He was so into it, he hadn’t even noticed Eddie enter the room, which was surprising, because his trip up the stairs wasn’t too quiet. He pushed the door mostly shut with his foot again, and set their mugs down on Richie’s bedstand. He sat gently on the bed, and kissed behind RIchie’s ear. “You sound amazing.” He whispered, grinning as he buried his face into Richie’s face. Richie jumped a bit in surprised, nearly dropping his guitar. “Jesus Eds, you scared the shit out of me. Warn a dude before you go up behind him and kiss ‘im, okay?” Eddie laughed, and wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist. “I’m pretty sure almost tripping all the way up the stairs was a good enough warning.” Richie felt his ears blush a bit, and he rested his head on Eddie’s. “Anyways, what were you playing?” Eddie asked, poking Richie’s guitar. “Oh, it’s just something dumb I’ve been working on.” He replied, blushing more as he set his guitar back on the floor.  He turned back to Eddie, laying back, pulling his boyfriend down with him. They laid there for awhile, just staring into each other's eyes. “I have an idea,” Richie said softly, ending the silence. He rolled over and reached into his bed stand, rolling back over with a black marker in his hand. “No, no, no, Richie, if you draw a dick on my face my mom will-” “Oh shush,” Richie said, pulling the cap off with his teeth. “Richie, do not!” Eddie threatened, pulling his face away a bit. “Hold still, Eds, I have an idea. You gotta trust me.” Eddie huffed quietly and closed his eyes. “Okay, go for it.”  He felt a few pokes on his cheek, then he felt Richie drawing lines. It only took about a solid minutes before Richie pulled the marker back and yelled “Voila!” Eddie opened his eyes and sat up, fighting the urge to scratch where the ink was on his cheek. “What did you do?” He asked, putting his hand to his face. “Go look in the mirror.” Richie replied, beaming. Eddie stood up and walked to the mirror Richie had hung on his wall, and Richie followed. He stood on his tiptoes to be able to see his face clearly, and turned his face to the side, examining his temporary tattoo.  He turned back to Richie quickly, smiling. “The big dipper?” Richie couldn’t help but to giggle. “Yeah! When I was looking at your face I couldn’t help but to wonder if any of your freckles made actual constellations, and I guess they do!” Eddie smiled, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around Richie. “You’re kind of a nerd, Richie.” He said softly, as Richie hugged him back. “Ah, but I’m your nerd.” Richie replied, making Eddie giggle. Eddie looked up at Richie and gently kissed his chin. “God I love you.” He whispered softly. Richie smiled and buried his face in Eddie’s hair. “I guess this makes this official, huh?” “Yeah, I guess it kinda does.” Eddie responded, pulling back a little, and grabbing Richie’s hand, lancing their fingers together. Richie giggled a little bit, earning a weird look from Eddie. “What?” He asked, frowning a little. “Haha.... Gay.” “Richie, we’re dating.” Eddie said, squinting at him. “Yeah, and it’s gayyyyyy.” Richie giggled, twisting their arms to Eddie’s back was now facing him. He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist. “But I think I like being gay.” He whispered to Eddie. “Oh, well I’d hope so.” Eddie replied, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the part where you’re supposed to say ‘wow, me too, Richie!, Eddie, my dear.” Richie said, setting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder and pouting. “Oh I’m sorry, your highness. ‘Wow, me too, Richie!’” Eddie replied, mockingly. “It’s just not the same.” Richie sighed wistfully. “Oh shut up Richie.” Eddie said, squirming out of his arms. He sat on the bed, and Richie followed. Richie only had to pout another minute or so before Eddie broke the silence saying, “You know I love you, right?” Richie looked down at him, grinning. “Yeah, I was just pouting to get something out of you. Now that I know it works I definitely see myself using it in the future. “ “Don’t you fucking guilt trip me to say I love you RIchie.” Eddie replied sharply. “Will you say it without me guilt tripping you?” “I just did not more than 2 minutes ago, Richie.” Richie thought for a moment before giggling. “Oh yeah.” Eddie sighed and rested his head on Richie’s arm. “You’re kind of a pain.” Eddie mumbled. “Yeah, I try.” There was another brief moment of silence before Richie kissed the top of Eddie head, and wrapped and arm around his waist. “I love you too.” 

#it #it 1990 #it 2017 #it book #reddie #reddie fic #eddie x richie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it fanfiction #it fandom #mod jordan #wow mod jordan?? writing original content?? unheard of!!!

[ichbinbarchen]

Hi,

It’s been over a year since I ranted to a blank sheet of digital paper on the internet. I didn’t feel like I needed this anymore. 

Last 24 hours I’ve had no motivation to do anything besides lay in bed and dwell on the situation. I’m sad. All of this because, he couldn’t be faithful and now I’m struggling to choose if I want to continue the relationship or call it quits. Everyone’s told me to take my time because sometimes cheating doesn’t mean they’ve fallen out of love or they want someone new. Me being me, I think like that. I think I’m never enough for someone because of how I look or how my personality is, I end up being boring so they leave. Their interest in me has dissipated. 

I’ve gone through so many emotions within a day and it’s like it’s killing me inside, I haven’t felt this way in such a long time...I forget how badly it hurts. How some days I wish I didn’t have emotions so I don’t deal with them. I don’t know how to deal with them. I cry but when I whole hearted cry, I send myself into a panic attack so I just cry a little each time throughout the day. I feel sad, angry, to numb. 

I’m angry. I’m angry that my trust was broken, my heart was broken. 

I’m sad because my heart’s hurting, it hurts and I don’t know how to cope, I don’t know. 

There’s a lot of things I don’t know, so I just ponder the what-ifs and the whys, the things I’ve done. 

I’ve asked to sleep on call with you because I feel lonely, but knowing you’re there is so comforting. I started sleeping with an extra pillow because it reminded me of when I did fall asleep in your arms, it was nice. I remember how caring you sounded when you asked if I was okay because I twitched in my sleep, I said I was okay and you just kept holding me. Maybe I was selfish and didn’t think of what you wanted. But why did you keep looking for me in someone else when I’m here. When I’m YOURS. I was fucking yours. I always thought I was so fucking lucky because I found someone who cares about me, who wants to grow with me, someone I can grow old with...like you said, you wanted me for the rest of your life. I loved spoiling you when I could, I loved just watching you eat on cam because it was so cute, I loved watching you grow your stream because it’s something you’ve always wanted, I loved hearing your voice, I loved listening to you talk about things you like, I loved your laugh, I loved when you share your music that reminds you of me or if it’s just good, I loved watching dumb youtube videos with you, I loved when you do stupid shit that makes me laugh, I love your laugh, I loved how you held me, I loved how you held my hand every chance you had, I loved how you cuddled me and held me and I never had to ask, I loved how you kissed me, I miss it. I loved the fact you’d be happy if I wanted a baby. I wanted to have dogs with you because you’ve always one of your own, one that you like and wanted to care for. I loved your smile the most especially when it was genuine and off guard, I felt like I was home, I loved all of you, I love you. 

Again, I don’t know why I typing all this out. 

I don’t know what I’m doing or what I want to do. I believe in second chances, but it’s just too painful and fresh right now. I need time, I need the trust to regrow...but how when it’s already broken. How. When I saw, I didn’t want to believe it, I didn’t want to read it all because I didn’t think it was you. But I did now it just replays in my head  I hate it, I hate so fucking much. That’s not my baby, he would never do that to me, he’s been so nice to me. But it was, now I have all these emotions slapped onto my shoulders and I just don’t know what to do. I want to punch something. I want to turn my room upside down. I want to scream. 

I know I’m hard to love, I know I’m afraid of a lot of things, I’m afraid of looking stupid, I’m afraid of confronting my own emotions, I’m very insecure. I take pictures with filters or only selfies that I take because when I see a picture that someone else took, I think...”that’s how people see me?" I try to be confident, I really do but sometimes I just can’t. I tell myself I’ll work out, but I feel stupid doing so...I can feel how my body can’t take what I want it to do, I feel it jiggle I HATE it. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, people see me differently than how I see myself. I know I should just suck it up and change myself. I know I’m hard to love and I’m so fucking sorry I am. I’m sorry I’m so damaged. I’m sorry I couldn’t  make you happy, like I said and I’m sorry. 

#personal