#sO i decided to listen to the entire soundtrack while reading stuff

[little-mouse-gardens]

Yandere fae turtles

Random au idea that popped up in my head

Yan turtles spider wick chronicles au? Based on a random scenario i wrote involving my ocs while listening to music from pans labyrinth and the spider wick soundtrack

Also tagging @lexiechr , @souperwrites and @radicallxser, thanks for inspiring these headcannons!

Warning : Mentions of violence, blood, murder, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, kidnapping (I do not condone this behavior in real life. this is only for entertainment purposes only)

Reader moves into an old cottage in the woods and begins renovating it. Like has the ideas layed out on the table and everything.

However, as they move in and begin renovations for their dream cottage…..reader notices something’s…off

Maybe it’s the way the breeze blows likes its whispering their name, or the odd sensation of being watch, but things keep getting stranger.

- Such as things going missing (milk, honey, baked goods, gadgets and gizmos, soft blankets and clothes)

- new expensive items or just things reader wanted appearing on their doorstep with little notes, their garden is blooming in winter. little protective charms start being put up mysteriously, weak stuff to keep the smaller nuisances away. jewelry, coats, and robes with strand symbols.

Though the most worrying is the fact that the chickens they keep around are terrified of the forest at night. The birds usually so bold to follow you around are literally petrified to go past a seemingly invisible line that circles the entire house.

Eventually reader discovers the attic of an old professor who was an expert in fae and nymphology after multiple wierd events keep happening around their house. Oddly, a few pages of the journal are missing in the back. However they do take the time to skim over the books contents and discover they may have a fae Problem.

So, reader deals with problem accordingly.

Learning how to properly but politely decline the gifts left on your porch. Putting up charms of protection and making sure everything is cleansed properly. Even going as far as to leave tiny offerings just outside of the edge of the forest to distract whoever or whatever was doing this.

Lining their house with stones, to ensure that there’s a barrier between your home and the fae.

Though reader reads back on the journey and realizes some forms of offering or giving trinkets can be interpreted as courting……oops

Things get worse.

dead birds and other things start being dropped on your door step, the salt gets blown away in strong gusts of wind from the forest

Just a whole slew of the things that make reader worry about their safety. So they decide to read the professors journals in order to seek answers. Oddly, they notice some of the pages are missing…..

Not realizing they have caught the eyes of the four gaurdians of the forest who all seek to capture them and make reader theirs.

Page by page and day by, reader learns more of who could be behind this never ending line of mysterious events. Especially with the help of mayhem, a small fae they discovered living in the attic who properly helps them learn more about the four kings of the fae and the forest covered mountains.

Reader notices mayhem bringing back things such as adder stones and old pages from the journal during the day, but remaining hidden inside when nightfall comes. Using the adder stones to let mayhem chase of pesky goblins and pixies tormenting their poor chickens.

One day, four handsome strangers arrive in town. Four turtle mutants who each seem particularly affectionate and fond of reader whenever they stop by or run into eachother. Flirting, praises, ect. Yet when they visit they never cross the line of stones.

The brothers come by on occasion, or rather frequently, but are strange around the house and insist on being chilavalorous and being invited in

Not once.

They hang out at the edge of your circle of stones. Often ask if you want to go for a late night walk or to invite them inside your home. ***Don’t. Do. It***

Either they wont leave, or you’ll disappear. And don’t give them your name under any circumstances.

Reader, having studied the journals and noticing mayhems aggression towards them, sense something off with the mysterious strangers who seem to shower them in attention and gifts. So, reader goes back home one evening and spends most of the night piecing together that journal

Page by page and using the old, pencil over some seemingly blank paper to reveal its hidden message indented into parchment. All the while they hear the noises of whispers on the wind. Affectionate but manipulative praises of love to come outside and be with them.

Reader doesn’t fall for it.

And eventually reader discovers the true identities of the turtles once mayhem helps them glue the last page inside.

So, by the fireplace with mayhem protectively flopped over by the front door, reader reads up on the boys true identity’s. Quietly going over the inked lettering bit by but until they’ve remembered everything. Even about the four higher-ups above, the court of four Kings with the same names as the regular four Kings. though reader just refers to the court of four Kings as the peepaws for a bit of comedy relief.

- Raphael : prince of the trolls, giants, often a brute to those who cross him. Steals soft blankets, plush toys and just anything he deems worthy to add to his space of comfort. His den of blankets and nest of comforts. Never cross him, steal what’s his or mess with his brothers unless you want to be brutally beaten to death by a mutant with the strength of a giant. He was the one to take old plushies, pillows, blankets from your home Before your began setting up protective charms

- Leonardo and Donatello : princes of the goblins, hobgoblins and boggarts. A dangerous duo, both together and separated they are cunning. Donnie is calculating and clever, no one has yet to match his genius and will torture those who don’t give him offerings of precious metals of human gadgets. Leonardo is a charming almost smug fae, he’s clever and manipulative to a fault with expensive tastes, he has his ways of getting what he wants and torture is one of them, though his preferred method is illusion and mind games. Leaving old consoles or expensive items outside your house and they’re quickly snatched up by the pair or their people

- Finally there is Michelangelo : princes of the fairies, pixies, brownies and smaller fae who use their creativity and affection to lure their victims. A tad bit spoiled despite his sweet and bubbly demeanor. He will throw a fit for the ages when he doesn’t get what he wants. Appease him with sweets and art supplies if you must. However his sweetness is only reserved for those he wants to reserve it for……I’m not going to say what his methods of disposing of victims are, let’s just say it’s too traumatic for the minds of mankind

It’s suffice to say, a lot of readers items go missing. Got a painting or art supply you left in sight of the window? Suddenly it’s plastered all over Mikey’s own nest. Jewelry that’s broken? Patched up and apart of each of the boys attire. Although important items to reader that they care a lot about are always returned before the end of the day

mayhem usually takes trips outside to find it. Stealing it right from under the boys noses and scampering back to readers house with stolen goods in their jaws.

Occasionally readers neighbor April pops on by to help out. She’s nice….something feels off but she’s nice nonetheless. Though the protective fae circle is slightly crooked in some spots after she leaves.

But once reader is prepared to deal with the boys, they start sitting out on their porch at night. Humming a random tune to their favorite song and quietly making satchets to hang in the doorways. Leaving offerings for smaller fae just outside of the circle. Making sure to make eye contact with any of the bois if they decide to come closer from the treeline.

And they do. They’re head over heels for this person. So of course they would approach, Each ones words Filled with nothing but loving compliments and promises to make reader their partner. To have them rule by their side over their domain.

They live gifts outside the circle, making sure reader sees each of them doing it. they grin and blow kisses, stalking around the circle

That is until they see one of their brothers. It either ends in them having a stare off and duke it out. They’d politely sabotage each other’s gift. Larger gifts over shadowing smaller ones. Making their gifts more eye catching to reader.

sometimes, reader will occasionally tease them back. Saying that it wouldn’t be too bad if they went with one of them on certain conditions. Which practically redoubles the boys efforts to woo their new potential partner. All the while reader goes into sage the house with mayhem glaring at the turtles from the front porch steps.

And each of the boys subjects defiantly do their best to try and help out their king.

Trolls and larger fae sent to help repair readers house

Goblins, and boggarts sent to fetch reader new clothes, expensive objects or things reader likes

Pixies, fairies and brownies to finish house chores, redecorate and replenish the home

All of whom are attempting to convince and argue reader should marry their prince. How their prince would be the perfect husband, how the other fae would love to help reader get settled into their new home in the forest, ect.

Just when reader thinks it couldn’t be more crazy. That’s when they finally catch the eyes of the four kings, previous princes now grown. (Aka the future turtles)

Much more powerful than the princess and certainly more menacing. Handsome, Bigger, more decked out in lavish clothes and jewelry, and covered in scars From fights and other events in their long lives.

Their colors may be a bit more faded than their younger counterparts but they make up for it in sheer presence.

Each one of them absolutely adore reader and are delighted the empty throne by their side will be filled with a loving partner to share their lives with and spoil. Perhaps, just potentially, that nursery in that beautiful sunny spot in the woods could be filled with the soft cries and giggles of an heir they Could care for with tenderness and love.

Now, reader must deal with eight admirers, all of which have tricks of their sleeves.

Much more expensive gifts and even more gestures of goodwill…..

Including leaving young Casey, king Leonardo’s son, in the care of reader. The young boy left on readers porch and convinced this was his new parent he was supposed to bring back home to his family.

Reader almost fell for the whole ‘my dad’s hurt in the woods’ trick, if it wasn’t for the fact mayhem and the chickens kept staring out into the treeline. Watching Leonardo smirking from the shadows with anticipation.

So, reader trusts their gut, and just decides to take the little toddler in and raise them as their own. Feeds him, reads him stories, lullaby’s, plays with him. Ect.

However reader has to constantly remind him not to remove the new protections on the cottage. Though the boy always breaks down in tears and reader always tells him it’s okay and not to do it again. Though when his parent is asleep, he speaks to his fathers and uncles about why his ‘parent’ won’t come home with them and what was he doing wrong.

Eventually, since the peepaws can break through the barriers, reader must go off into the woods to get some random flowers for a wreath they were making. Taking Casey on a small trek into the woods just when the satchets finally wear off.

Giggling and whispers can be heard beckoning reader to the woods over the sound of Casey going on about how happy he was to finally be with his parent, ect.

In the blink of an eye and before mayhem can reach them, reader is whisked off by one of the turtles. Never to be seen again.

Waking up in one of the eights domains of with one of the turtles snuggled up to them. Murmuring about they’ll be so happy there with them, and how they’ll shower them with love and gifts so they can never leave.

Escaping them will be difficult, and after the impromptu wedding. Reader must play the part until the opportunity to escape and rid themselves of the immortality they’ve been granted.

But be warned

They will hunt you down once you do

And you better hope you can make it out of town before they do find you

#yandere donnie #yandere leonardo #yandere raphael #yandere michelangelo #yandere rottmnt #yandere future Leonardo #yandere future Donatello #yandere future Raphael #yandere future Michelangelo #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt au #fae au #rottmnt #tmnt headcanons #headcanon

[aowyn]

tag game!

TAG SOMEONE YOU WANT TO KNOW AND/OR SOME OF YOUR BESTIES

tagged by the lovely @emilhe! thank you for tagging me! <3 <3 <3

Favorite color: pink!!! like a warm pastel pink

Last song: i have been playing the hades soundtrack on loop all day and right now mouth of styx is playing!

Last movie: i have no idea honestly. OH actually i watched the red white and royal blue movie again a few days ago bc it gives me modern au merthur feelings

Currently watching: nothing lol. too many projects to work on first!

Other stuff I watched this year: over the garden wall (naturally), star trek strange new worlds season 1, ofmd season 2, gomens season 2, one piece live action, probably some other things i cant remember

Shows I dropped this year: none i can think of? castlevania i started but it's on hold not dropped!

Currently reading: i have 30 unread books on my nightstand and they haunt me every day. i am in the middle of dracula bc of dracula daily, lotr bc of lotr newsletter. i am in the middle of green mars (mars trilogy) and fingersmith by sarah waters but i haven't picked them up in a while because i decided to read the entire mistborn trilogy instead, which i finished

Currently listening to: hades soundtrack as per question 2 but earlier today i was listening to danger days by mcr!

Currently working on: kelsier mistborn cosplay! is the biggest project. but im also working on recording cassettes to play in my car bc my car is from 1998 and doesn't even have a cd player. im sure im working on other projects too but the craft table is a disaster right now so i can't remember

Current obsession/s: there are a great many things im highly interested in right now but none of them quite feel like hyperfixations unfortunately. you will know when i have a new hyperfixation because i will reblog so many things about whatever it is. some things that im interested in right now are cosmere, homestuck, good omens, ofmd!

i tag @minamiren @morluin @totallythejiffybot @bishops--knifetrick @andreth-with-a-sword @child-of-the-fairy-folk @aredhels @garden-holic @gayjaytodd @feanor @cerealbastard @leaves-of-teas @rose-ncrantz @maebird-melody @celebrimbooooor feel free to do or not do this tag game <3

#thanks for the tag i love doing tag games!!! #said el #things im in

[wolfiered23]

Danganronpa: Happily Never After Prologue Fun Facts

Hello, everyone! For those of you who don’t know, I’m the fanfic author of Danganronpa: Happily Never After, a fun SYOC that I’ve been working on for ten months now! Also for those of you who do know and found this little blog of mine from the last fic update, welcome!

Now, first things first, here’s a link to the fic itself in case anyone is curious: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13904495/1/Danganronpa-Happily-Never-After. 

And since enough people seemed excited at the idea of me posting stuff here, I’ve decided to start off these posts with some fun facts about the Prologue! Fan art courtesy of Sakura Idol on Deviant Art (posted with permission) and Chapter 1 Fun Facts will also be posted at some later date. And any questions you’d like to ask, feel free! I’m happy to share whatever I can without spoiling anything!

Okay, fun facts! These will be under a cut to avoid spoilers for everyone!

Let’s see...to start us off, let’s go with the inspiration behind the entire fic! Specifically, the idea of a Killing Game based on fairy tales. My first fandom I was involved with was Once Upon a Time and more recently, I’ve started reading quite a lot of fairy tale retelling books. So I decided to see what I could do with a Killing Game based entirely on fairy tales, with the characters having similarities/being based on fairy tales but in their reality, that isn’t on purpose, if that makes sense. For Maria, for example, the fact that she physically looks like Snow White is a coincidence, considering she does not have an evil step-mother or a step-mother at all, as we see when her mother calls her in the story’s very first chapter!

Continuing on this thread with Maria then, her talent is entirely due to my past as a ballet dancer myself. I wasn’t nearly as talented as she is, obviously, and I eventually gave it up, but it’s something that was so central to my childhood that I felt I could believably write a character with that talent as her base. Her being involved in specifically the Russian Ballet Company also comes from my previous experiences, having witnessed them dance the Nutcracker before myself. And another fun fact: Maria’s entire personality was formed between the first chapter of the Prologue and the second. Before the other characters started coming in, I didn’t have a solid ‘this is her personality’ yet. But imagining how she could play off all these other characters was very useful in getting her personality in place. I think she’s turned out quite realistic so far, given her extraordinary circumstances.

Now what else...I suppose my writing soundtrack. I was fond of listening to Yuri on Ice (piano) while writing the Prologue, while supplementing it with a cover of Dead or Lie from the DR3 anime, specifically the one used for the Ultimate DR Opening video on Youtube, and AmaLee’s covers of Last Stardust and aLiez. Take those however you wish! And, of course, I added in Genshin Impact’s Lover’s Oath for the final chapter of the Prologue, the ball.

The Palace of Despair layout was actually something I struggled with while writing. I wanted it to be realistic of a medieval castle, but I’d never been to one before! So I looked up some layouts and took some inspiration from older Disney movies, when the castles were stone. Also, nobody noticed this, but the thorns that Hibiki specifically warns Maria away from in the Prologue are a direct reference to Maleficent’s thorns in Sleeping Beauty! Sleeping Beauty was a favorite of mine as a kid, for whatever reason considering I preferred to say Ariel was my favorite princess, so I gave a little nod to it there.

Another fun fact: some of the fairy tale roles are stories I’ve personally never read before. Satou’s Light Princess, for example, was something I’d never heard of. Fuwari’s Nightingale, in a similar vein, was also unfamiliar. I’d heard of Chia’s Little Match Girl, but actually did have to research the story since I was also unfamiliar with it. Others of them, however, such as Jordan’s Sir Dinadon, Irusu’s Jekyll and Hyde, and Robin’s Kai, I actually did have some background with courtesy of Overly Sarcastic Productions on YouTube! If you’ve never seen any of the three I listed and are curious about the channel, go check it out, they’re great!

This one’s actually one of my favorite facts, but I made a point of mentioning Maria’s bedroom changing during the Prologue (and again in Chapter 1). This is entirely due to the fact that in between posting the first chapter and getting to the ball chapter, I had a more elaborate idea for Maria’s bedroom that I desperately wanted to include, but I didn’t want to change the entire first chapter. So I just added it in later!

And last one, but it does connect to that first chapter again! Most of you probably remember, but in case you forgot or didn’t know, originally HNA was only supposed to have 16 OCs including Maria and follow the typical DR format with my own personal twist on it. That was always my plan...but then my deadline passed, all OCs came in and I couldn’t bear to cut two of the final 18 I chose. So I expanded my cast and adjusted things to make the now larger cast manageable. It’s a bit tricky still, considering I’ve never handled this many characters before and I want to be sure everyone gets a chance to shine instead of allowing loners like Chiasa or Rosamie to fade into the background, but I think I’ve done okay so far! I really love the direction the characters have taken me so far and I hope you all have too!

Okay, so those are all the Prologue Fun Facts I have for now! Once the entire story is finished, I’ll probably do another with full on spoilers for the entire thing, but that’s way down the line! For now, I’ll try to continue on with this. If you have any questions you’d like to ask, feel free to do so and I’ll answer to the best of my ability!

#danganronpa #syoc #fanfiction #danganronpa syoc #danganronpa: happily never after #my fic post

[thewhizzyhead]

hi bitches my mean girls musical phase is coming back in full force woo pls send help

#so yesterday i remembered that the mean girls musical movie is gonna be a thing #(and ngl i would love to like be an extra in it even tho im a literal ocean away from america fjsjd) #sO i decided to listen to the entire soundtrack while reading stuff #and holy shit i forgot how good the music here is #like yea the lyrics aren't the kost profound shit in the world but it fits the tone of the whole thing and the music is legit good #critics are just very mean when it cones to musicals about teenagers fhzhdbd #so anyways yea woo mean girls phase lets go #mean girls musical

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 

You’re not so sure. 

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 

Oh, you loved this man. 

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts smut #mine

[newtafterdark]

I like the idea of Benrey stealing Gordon's laptop, not just to see what games are on there, but also look through the man's music collection & playlists.

Benrey doesn't actually know much about human music. Yes, of course, there's the Sweet Voice, but that's an entirely different thing... right?

He decides to do research, as much as his focus issues allow him to. Humans use music to convey emotions as well, he finds. It's disappointing to him that most of that happens through lyrics, but humans have to make do with the weak vocal cords they got, he thinks.

"You know how it is with game soundtracks?", Gordon starts as Benrey is mumbling to himself about his findings.

"Uh-"

"In context, they can make you feel things without lyrics. You remember the moment that is related to a song you're listening to... and your brain just- it just remembers the emotion & replays it, I guess."

"Huh."

Things slowly start to make sense to him. While there are no colours to read in the air when he hears human music, he starts to connect certain tunes & noises to emotions as well.

Gordon humming along to a song on the radio while doing chores with him. Tommy tapping his feet & gently drumming his fingers on a surface as he got his headphones on when going to the mall with them. Hearing those small rhythmic tunes start to have the same calming effect on Benrey as his Sweet Voice has on others.

Singing though... yes, he has heard Gordon & Tommy sing before. Nothing big, mind you. Just softly, slightly absentminded-

But one day Benrey overhears loud music coming from the kitchen. Not the usual casual pop stuff that he's used to from Tommy... no, this is something raw. Drums, guitars, bass, electric noises, shrill voices-!

He needs to know what this... means. There is rhythm, there is so much energy in this, who is even listening to- Benrey pokes his head into the kitchen. He needs to know right the fuck now.

Oh.

Gordon is having the time of his life, singing at the top of his lungs into a spoon (oh he's making muffins. dope.), dancing without much direction through the small kitchen, but... he looks so happy? He's smiling as he sings, his laugh lines creasing a bit more, as the drum solo of the song reaches its peak and-

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

Gordon lets the most guttural, bass-heavy metal scream. Benrey is effectively digging his nails into the door frame to the kitchen, wood threatening to splinter, as he tries to ground himself despite the display in front of him. Pink Sweetvoice escapes his open mouth, blown-wide eyes focused on Gordon and nothing else.

This is raw emotion. This is personal. This is more than Gordon's yelling back at Black Mesa. This has a purpose. Good purpose. Good feeling. Great Cool. And yes, it is absolutely beautiful.

Benrey decides right then and there that Metal is his favourite human music genre.

#hlvrai #frenrey #tomrey #benrey #tommy coolatta #hlvrai gordon #gordon freeman #headcanons #this was supposed to be a simple headcanon post #then it turned into somewhat of a short fanfic #I just LOVE the idea of Gordon letting out guttural metal noises #and Benrey instant becoming the personification of the Eyes emoji #fanfics #writing #newt's ramblings #metalhead gordon #fanfic #black velvet rabbits #metalhead gordon au

[renxias]

How the batfam play RPGS ( mainly fantasy-like RPGS):

Damian: spends forever customizing his characters and upgrades all his weapons to max level , wastes money of his weapons but still manages to have a lot, like slaughtering his enemies, over-leveled to hell and back and like replaying the harder bosses and taking on hunts just HUNTS he specifically likes fighting the dragon. If doing co-op with other members he always manages to take something from their world and just doesn’t say anything so they never question.

Dick: Takes up literally every quest available, keeps replaying the quests that involving helping kids find their lost pets or lost parent/siblings, hoards everything and forgets to sell items, he likes talking to NPCs, he’s trying his best but somehow I feel like he would somewhat under-leveled all the time and scramble to level himself up at the last moment, really likes using light armor. Explores everything from top to bottom.

Jason: Is not good at playing ( literally whenever he hangs out with Roy only he does the playing while Jason watches): ‘‘Why are no guns in this game?? ‘’ surprisingly super good at picking the dialogue options even though they’re mean, he opts for the bow instead and absolutely destroys in late game, HOWEVER he’s super knowledgeable about the game’s lore and ended up just reading the entire thing in one sitting even though he should’ve been playing the game and so he left it running instead.

Tim: ALSO over leveled to hell and back, looks up secret bosses, cheat codes ( not for him but for Steph whenever she wants to use them), completes almost every available quest, great at the puzzle mini games ( they all are amazing at these )used Bruce’s credit card to buy extra in-game content ( Damian too), has played for more than 10 hours.

Steph: Ends up using cheat codes as needed, also spends forever customizing her character, refuses to buy any other weapons and opts for duel swords and a giant axe and that’s it. Somehow keeps circling back to the weapons store owner because she thinks he’s hot and just stares at him for at least a good 2 hours not moving in the frame. She will only level up one or two weapons and refuse to use any of the other ones, also a hoarder when it comes to her inventory and forgets to sell things despite Tim protesting.

Cass: Makes her character super sweet and simple, she also decided that she wanted to use knives for her character and ends up just collecting a bunch of weapons ALSO maxed out all weapons as well, although her weapon of choice is daggers. If there happens to be a rhythm game element then she’ll absolutely shread through it.

Duke: Very casual in his playing literally spends at least a good hour or two playing before he decides to do something else, 100% opts for using gauntlets ( no idea Duke seems like a gauntlet-kind of guy) really enjoys crafting stuff that’s definitely one of his favorite pastimes when he plays that he forgets to complete quests, scavengers for new items for crafting ( this also applies to Jason too they both love this stuff). Will listen to the entire soundtrack for the game throughout his daytime patrols and while working out at the gym.

Barbara: Obsessed with stats of enemies ( this is the same with Tim and even Damian but mostly Tim) always looking for new combinations of amulets to try in order to boost her own stats, also over-leveled to hell and back. Is definitely more of a magic user rather than buying out weapons at the dealer. Searching for rare items always and loves more than anything reading the archives in game because learning about enemies and other side/main characters is so exciting.

#batman #batfam #batfamily headcanons #dc comics #dc jason todd #cassandra cain #damian wayne #bruce wayne #oracle #tim drake #barbara gordon #dick grayson #spoiler #duke thomas #stephanie brown #Alfred just watches them play okay #Bruce tried to learn but he cannot figure it out for the life of him but he likes crafting #dc headcanon #rpg stuff #rpgs

[dragonpro809]

Promt: character A is a borrower who got some tech/phone and talks to character B. B is the human they live with. A becomes friends with the human of the house by talking online. A loves their friends but can’t ever let themselves be caught or seen by B. Till they get hurt and have to ask B for help.

You can choose the characters :3

Ma! I love this prompt!!! I might have to send you one of mine now because I love your work! ^-^ When I was planning this out, funny thing, I was listening to "The Secret World of Arrietty" soundtrack. That movie kinda sparked my interest in g/t stuff, so it felt nice to write this! I hope this was just what you wanted!

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, mentions of fatal vore, cuss words. Don't like, I suggest you don't read ^-^

-------------------------------------------

Online Friends, Real Life Rescues

Sapnap was sitting at his desk, playing a game and laughing as his friend made a joke. Sapnap was a borrower, a tiny human living in the walls of a giant's house. However, it wasn't any giant's house. The giant he was living with was a friend of his...Well, more of an online friend than in person.

There's a code all borrowers followed, and Sapnap was one of the mere hundreds of borrowers who knew this code: Never, ever talk to or be seen by a giant. He didn't know what was so wrong with being seen by a human, but eventually, he learned hands-on what happens to borrowers when they interact with humans.

About a month ago, Sapnap was hanging out with some borrowers about two houses next to him. The borrowers he hung out with were always playing dangerous and being risky any chance they could. As much as Sapnap loved to be a bit reckless too, he would also be concerned about the number of times his friends were almost seen by the giants. And one day, what he feared finally happened.

3 weeks ago, Sapnap was invited over to his friend's his for a game of sorts. Sapnap didn't know what the game was gonna be about, but he was more than happy to join his friends. When he got to the house, he searched for his friend, but to his surprise, he couldn't find them. Maybe the game was hide and seek? Sapnap highly doubted it, and there was no way he could search the entire house in one night.

As Sapnap walked past one of the holes that overlooked the kitchen, he frooze. He went back to the hole and saw one of the humans sitting at the table, and in their hands were his friends. He at first was curious. Maybe the human wasn't gonna harm them? But he was instantly proven wrong as the giant shoved his friends into their mouth, swallowing them quickly without remorse. Sapnap choked out a horrified gasp and stumbled backward. He couldn't believe what he just saw!

Sapnap wasted no time and ran home, being quick to tell his parents of what he just witnessed. He finally understood why giants were dangerous...They could easily kill borrowers whenever they pleased. He couldn't control it, or prevent it, he was absolutely helpless.

The next few weeks, Sapnap spent most of his time building up a computer for himself using an old phone he found, as well as some wires hidden in the walls. He also studied the giant he was living with. From what he could tell, they very much disliked showing their face. They also seemed to be a big gamer, and this sparked curiosity inside the borrower.

Sapnap slowly began to trust the human, seeing as they one, hadn't noticed him yet. And two, were nice to the people beyond the screen.

Sapnap had finally built up his computer and began to discover the online world, the more he searched, the more he was fascinated. Soon, he had found the channel. The channel owned by the human he was living with. They went by the name Dream...Sapnap liked that name. It made a smile come to his face whenever he said the giant's name, and he didn't know why. He reached out to the human online and asked to Minecraft challenge with him, and to his surprise, the giant happily excepted his offer.

And here he was, playing with an online friend that was a giant and who was extremely nice to him. Maybe he was wrong about all giants being monsters. Maybe there were some gentle giants in the bunch.

"Hey, Sapnap, you there?" Dream's voice echoed in Sapnap's ears, snapping his focus back to the game and call he was currently in. He must've been spacing out again...

"Y-yeah! Sorry man, I was just thinking about something and I guessed I spaced out." Sapnap chuckled, causing Dream to wheeze like a tea kettle over a burner.

For the next few hours, the two played their game. Shouting, laughing, and cheering as they played. Eventually, nighttime fell upon the boys and Sapnap had grown tired.

"Hey man, I'm extremely tired. Should we can it a night?" Sapnap asked, soon hearing Dream chuckle.

"Yeah, I'm tired too, let's call it a night."

The two said their goodnights and closed out of the call for the night. The borrower leaned into his chair, a smile planted on his face as he stretched his arms out and yawned.

Sapnap pulled himself out of his chair and made his way to his room, which he had set up right near his friend's bedroom. He looked through the small hole he made that overlooked the Blonde's room and noticed Dream chuckling as he sat on his bed.

Sapnap shared his own chuckles as Dream began to wheeze like a tea kettle again. He turned and climbed into bed, still smiling as he laid his head down and closed his eyes.

The next morning came, and Sapnap awoke to the sound of Dream talking and tapping from a keyboard.

He lifted himself up from his bed and yawned before turning his focus to the hole. He stumbled out of bed and saw his good friend, Dream, was up and already active on his games.

Sapnap walked away from the hole, slipped on his backpack, and decided to go grab some food from the kitchen. He was starving after all, and with Dream busy, he wouldn't be seen.

Upon passing through the hole that lead into the kitchen, he took a moment to look around the huge, intimidating room that stood before him. He had only done this twice, yet each time he was nervous and shaking right down to the bone.

As the borrower began to look for some food, his body froze when he heard a low, loud growl from behind him.

To terrified to turn around, he instead sprinted back to the hole in which he entered from, but his pathway of escape was cut off with a large paw slamming down right in front of him. Sapnap skidded to a halt and slipped backwards, his back hitting the hard, tile counter.

He opened his eyes to be met with a large cat staring down at him, almost as if it was sizing him up to be eaten. Sapnap screamed for his life, quickly getting up to his feet and running behind some glass cups. The cat was quick to chase him, and in the process, it knocked one of the glasses off the counter while trying to grab the borrower.

Dream lifted his head hearing a glass shatter in the kitchen. He was confused, what knocked it over? Dream took his headphones off and left his bedroom.

Upon entering the kitchen, he was met with a shattered glass on the floor and his cat, Patches, trying to grab something.

"Patches! No! Bad cat! What are you doing?!" Dream snapped, causing the cat to quickly bail from its little hunt and book it out of the kitchen. Dream groaned, clearly annoyed at the mess the cat made. Before he could start picking up the shards, he heard sobbing...Quiet sobbing from behind the glasses his cat was just in front of...

Dream grew curious and slowly approached the glasses. As he slowly moved them away, his eyes widen at the sight he was seeing.

There, huddled close to the wall, sobbing uncontrollably...Was a borrower. Dream gasped seeing them. He had heard about borrowers, or tiny humans that live in the homes of people, but never had he imagined he'd actually see on before!

Sapnap had been scratched by the cat, and it was badddd. A large cut trailed up his leg starting near his foot. He began to cry, because boy did it fucking hurt. He didn't want to move, he was too afraid to as the cat tried to grab him. Suddenly, a loud voice echoed in the kitchen, and the cat scrambled away in a hurry. He kept his eyes shut however, for he was to afraid as to what was going on.

Soon, the sound of glass being moved away made Sapnap huddle close to the wall, his eyes glued shut, not daring to open them.

Dream reached his hand toward the borrower before pausing. They were hurt. Dammit, Patches had gotten them already.

"Hey." Dream said softly, the borrower flinched a little at the sudden voice.

"Hey, it's ok, I'm here to help." Dream spoke, his words soft as silk.

The borrower slowly opened their eyes and look toward Dream before gasping and backing up. They didn't get very far, as they instantly yelped in pain and fell.

"Woah! E-Easy there, I just want to help." Dream explain, trying to hold back asking questions.

Sapnap had fliched at the sudden loud voice above him, and he couldn't help but slowly open his eyes. He instantly regret it as he looked up, only to be met with a giant staring down at him. He yelped out of fear and panic while trying to pull himself away, but it was proven futile as he cried out in pain and fell down, his leg throbbing in pain.

"Please don't kill me!" Sapnap begged, keeping his hands in front of his face. When nothing happened, he pulled his hands away and looked to the giant, who had a look of worry and concern all over them.

"K-Kill you? I would never!" Dream spat out before composing himself.

"I just want to help you is all."

Sapnap didn't know if he wanted to trust this giant. A part of him was screaming to run away, just run and stay safe...But the other half of him was telling him something different. This was his friend, someone who had been so nice and caring to him in the online world...Now was his friend's chance to prove he was that same way in the real world.

"You promise you won't hurt me?" Sapnap asked, receiving a nod from the giant as an answer.

Dream gently scooped the borrower up into his hands and made his way back to his room. Though...He found it funny. This borrower almost sounded like his online friend.

End of Part 1

(hehehehe, I'm evil)

#t!sapnap #g!dream #mcyt story #mcyt #g/t #mcyt g/t #gt #g/t writng #this took 3 hours ahhhhhhh #I hope you enjoyed- #Dragonpro writes

[mxrstar]

please listen to Gospels of the Flood

okay so ive been wanting to write this post for a while now, but i was genuinely blown away by this story so here i am recommending it to whoever is reading.

this podcast is 7 episodes long (each episode lasts about 15 minutes) and i promise you it's worth your time. on paper, the plot goes as follows: the world is sinking and a priest has lost his faith, so he decides to go find his brothers to see where they are and if they still believe in god. each one of them has a different story to tell.

for starters, the tone of this podcast is incredible. the writing is solemn and elegant and profoundly human, and it is impressively sharp when it needs to be. the voice acting is charismatic and captivating and i genuinely never lost focus while listening once. as a genre, it sometimes verges on horror (if anything because the world is ending, but there are other elements too) but it speaks at length about what it means to be human and to believe in life. it has a spectacular ending that i honestly feel is thematically incredible though it's not particularly convoluted plot-wise. is the kind of ending that would lose a lot of value if i describe it to you because listening to the very last sentence for the first time is priceless and personally borderline exhilarating-- not because it's a twist but because it says exactly what it needs to say in exactly the right tone. the soundtrack of this podcast is spectacular and i think it might end up on my next years' spotify wrapped (in fact, i encourage to listen to it even if you don't listen to the podcast) + the soundscaping is genuinely incredible and, at least to my untrained ears, some of the best i have ever encountered.

i also want to make it clear that this podcast's perspective, even when it questions god on a pretty fundamental level, is very christian (as in: even when it speaks about religion in general it speaks about it from a christian pov, which i think is a good thing to point out given that it sometimes muses about what it means to have faith at all). i did however found the way it critiques some traditionally christian values incredibly cathartic. my favourite episode, for instance, is entirely about the idea of feeling ashamed of yourself and what it means to centre your faith around that lie (i have relistened to it Many Times). there's also some interesting anti-capitalist commentary (such as prisons still being a thing during the apocalypse, even when people are dying and there's no escaping the end) which i thought was very compelling.

as far as warnings go: generally, loss death and mass death because it's set during an apocalypse. car crash and child death in episode 1. episode 4 needs a warning for suicide, mass suicide, and cults (and that's my favorite episode, the one i mentioned above). i'm sorry if i'm forgetting anything else. here are the transcripts if you need them

i know not everyone likes spoilers, but i get into stuff faster if i read a nice quote from it first, so i'm gonna put under the cut a quote from my favorite episode in case anyone is curious

(cw for mass suicide and cult-like behavior)

[ID:

We had to recognize what we were, Simon told me. We were God's greatest failure. We were born sinners and with our every breath, we destroyed the beauty of Creation. The continents were sinking beneath our weight; the Earth needed to cleanse itself of our stain.

He took me to the edge of the building, to see the people falling. He pointed at the waves. This is our path to redemption, he said. If we can recognize our arrogance, our sinfulness, our inferiority to those creatures that are still pure, then we can save the world through sacrifice.

I looked at the waves. They were grey, dirty, filled with corpses and mud. If this was God's will, then I rejected it. And if it saved a single life, I would reject his entire creation. The trees and the birds and the fishes in the sea were nothing before the beauty of a single human being. Here, now, seeing them die, I understood what I had seen in their eyes: guilt. Guilt at existing. Guilt at being human. And now the force that had woken up within me blazed with fury.

/end ID]

#gospels of the flood #podcasts #podcast recs #sometimes i talk

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Hero | Luke Patterson

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Song Fic February Week 4: Musicals 

Inspiration: StarStruck (DCOM)

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: Anon suggested doing something with the Starstruck soundtrack, so I’m writing a whole-ass series. This is based off the plot of Starstruck but the reader was a fan of JATP until she met Luke... Basically crush to enemies to lovers! Also a modern!au.

The third installment of the StarStruck series! 

StarStruck

Something About The Sunshine

Hero

What You Mean To Me

Pairing: Luke x Fem!reader

Song(s) used: Hero - Christopher Wilde (StarStruck ST)

Warnings: few swear words, mention of car accidents, mention of child abuse, mention of postnatal depression, tiny bit of angst

Words: 8.6K

I’m almost nervous to see him again. There’s a nervous flutter erupting from the pit of my stomach and I feel hot and sweaty when it’s not even that warm out. The boy didn’t have that effect on me just a day ago and now he suddenly does? I hate this. 

“Morning,” I greet when I find Luke standing outside the coffee shop with his hood pulled far over his head and sunglasses covering his beautiful eyes. He shoots me a smile, but I don’t think he actually looks at me. Right, the whole “I can’t be seen with you”-thing. 

“Want to go grab some coffee before we go?” I ask instead, pointing at the shop. 

Luke nods his head and follows me inside where we wait in line together. The silence that hangs over us is uncomfortable for the first time. I don’t know why but his mysterious, secretive antics are making me nervous. 

“Next!” the barista calls and the two of us step forward. The twenty-something woman shoots the both of us a polite smile, not even acknowledging that Luke’s keeping his head low. This is L.A., she’s probably used to it by now. “What can I get for ya?” 

“An iced vanilla latte for me, please,” I say and then glance down at Luke. 

He coughs. “Iced caramel macchiato.” His voice is low, just above a whisper, as though he’s telling the barista and me a secret. I’m glad we’re going to be out of the city soon, so Luke can go back to his regular self. Or to the singing-on-top-of-a-car-in-the-middle-of-nowhere self. 

“What’s your name, please?” 

“Y/N…” My eyes land on Luke for a split second, and I’m pretty sure he’s not even going to answer. Luke’s a pretty generic name, I’m sure people won’t even bother to look up. “Put my name on both, please.” 

The barista smiles and then dashes off after I paid to start making our coffees while we shuffle towards the end of the counter, ready to take our drinks when they’re ready. Luke keeps his head down. He doesn’t even look up at me and the awkward silence doesn’t eb away.  

“You’re not gonna talk to me yet, are you?” I ask him as I hand him one of the two straws I picked up. He shakes his head. I try my hardest not to groan and instead, hand him the keys to my car. “Here, get yourself settled in my car, I’ll handle this.” 

His eyes peer over the rim of his sunglasses, flickering with uncertainty and gratefulness at the same time. I shoot him a smile, urging him to get out of here, which he does with a quick flash of his teeth. 

The awkwardness quickly washes off me when he’s left the coffee shop and I’m all alone, hoping everything would change once we’re all alone, away from the prying eyes of Los Angeles’ residents. 

“Iced vanilla latte and iced caramel macchiato for y/n,” the barista calls and places the cups on the counter in front of me. 

I smile at her, say, “Thank you! Bye!” and then dart out of the coffee shop as fast as I could. I weave my way through hasty people and slacking tourists towards my Toyota Yaris where a hooded boy sits in my passenger seat. He still has his hood pulled up and his sunglasses balancing on the bridge of his nose. He almost looks sad, which makes me a little sad too. I wish I could do more than let him wait in my car. 

“Here you go,” I say and hand him his coffee when I’ve settled into my seat. 

“Thank you,” he mutters, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just for the beverage. 

A smile etches its way to my cheeks as I regard him. “You’re welcome,” I say and then start the engine. As I pull out of the parking lot, Luke finally sparks up a conversation. I’m almost relieved to hear his voice again for more than two words.    

“Where’re we going?” he asks. 

I debate telling him but then decide I’d do it anyway. I’ve been researching a lot last night and have found the greatest secluded spots and the time slots when they’re mostly deserted or have the least visitors. The one I wanted to take him to today was a lot closer than the other ones, so I figured we could start with that. 

“The Old L.A. Zoo. It’s less crowded before 9am, so I figured we could go explore it a bit until too many people arrive?” The statement comes out of my mouth as a question since I’m unsure whether or not he’d like that. 

“Cool,” he replies, and he sounds honest, too. “I don’t think I’ve ever been there.” 

It surprises me a little, but I go with it anyway. “Really? I’ve been there plenty of times! It’s really cool! Kinda spooky.” Luke lets out an airy laugh at that and it makes my heart flutter a little. 

Within ten minutes, we arrive at the old zoo. Ten minutes had gone by and yet it felt like a split second. The conversation ran fluently on our way there and Luke told me things about the band and his childhood that not even the biggest fangirl on earth could possibly know. I love talking to Luke about those seemingly uninteresting, small things. 

The rest of the morning, too, goes by as if there’s no concept of time whatsoever. The two of us walk through the old, abandoned zoo and explore every single old habitat. I even find a website that tells us the entire history of each section of the zoo and as I read it, Luke listens and adds in his own commentary. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much in just a few  hours. This guy is genuinely funny and I just adore talking to him. Our conversations go from the ridiculous to the serious, and every subject in between. 

It’s just the perfect day that I wish would never end, but inevitably, Luke has his own responsibilities and has to go by lunch time. 

“Hey, why don’t you come with me to the studio?” he asks with a smile as we’re making our way back to the car. “I’m in there all by myself, aside from our producer, and I’m recording a few songs.” 

I open and close my mouth a few times, letting incomprehensible sounds roll out. It makes me look like a dumbfounded fish, I’m sure, but I don’t care. My brain is dysfunctioning for a moment. Luke Patterson is asking me to come to the studio with him. To watch him record some songs. Songs that are going to be on the album. 

Luke’s laugh makes the gears in my brain fall back into place. “Is that a yes?” he asks. 

A heat rises up to my cheeks. “Yeah,” I finally manage. 

“Cool,” he says and then gets into the car. 

The ride to the studio is filled with smooth conversation. We never miss a beat, there’s never an awkward silence between the two of us. Only when we arrive at the recording studio and we’re met with a huddle of paparazzi outside the door.

“Fuck,” he mutters and ducks down. I do the same, knowing he doesn’t want me to be seen with him either. “Drive around back,” he orders before fumbling into the glove compartment of my car. He retrieves a pair of sunglasses I kept there, along with a shawl of my mother’s that I didn’t know was still in there. “Put this on.” 

“No,” I reply sternly, pushing his hand with the shawl away. I do take the sunglasses from his hand though, and push them onto my nose. “Put that shawl away,” I bark. The boy obeys and stuffs the piece of cursed fabric back where it came from. 

Mental note: throw that out. 

When we finally do get into the recording studio, as soon as I’m on Luke’s side, he grabs my hand and drags me into the building before anyone could ever spot us. I nearly stumble on my own feet, but quickly pick myself back up before I faceplant the floor. 

Luke huffs. “Phew, that was close.” 

He looks at me, and for a second, I think he might bring up the shawl again, but he doesn’t and instead turns to his producer, who had gotten up from his swivel chair the second we burst in.  

“Connor!” Luke greets excitedly and shakes the man’s hand. 

He looks near his thirties, strong built with flawless dark skin and a full head of afro hair. Combined with his extremely savvy outfit, I find him really cool-looking. He’s the kind of guy that would get all the girls in high school while still being a sweetheart. 

“You brought some new flesh, I see,” Connor says to me and outstretches his hand for me to shake. I do so with a wide smile on my face while pretending not to be completely nervous about being in a recording studio for the first time. 

“Y/N,” I introduce myself. 

“Welcome to our little slice of heaven on earth, y/n.” My eyes flick to Luke, who’s giving me that look again, so I quickly turn back to Connor. “Any knowledge of recording studios, y/n?” he asks. 

“Never been in one, but my friend is a producer and he did teach me some things.” 

I hear Luke huff beside me. “I didn’t know that.” 

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know.” I shoot him a wink as Connor beckons me towards his deck. For a while, Connor guides me through his paces while Luke gives the best of himself on this song. 

After a few takes, Luke comes out of the booth and joins me and Connor to listen to what we’d recorded thus far. “What if –” I pause, debating my thoughts. “What if we go in with some soft backing vocals on here?” I click the part of the chorus we’d recorded and sing along with recorded Luke. 

“'Cause I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy With heart and soul But if your the one for me Then I'll be your hero”

“I think if you put Julie on those backings, it could give that duet-vibe you guys are so good at.” I notice Connor and Luke glance at each other, soft smiles playing on both their lips. 

“Why don’t you show us?” Connor asks as Luke already grabs my hand. 

“What?! Me? No! Julie.” 

Luke chuckles and drags me into the booth with him. “Yeah, but we’re gonna need a demo, don’t we?” He delicately places a set of headphones on my head before placing one on his own. He signals to Connor and no later than 2 seconds, the instrumental version of the song blasts through the headphones. 

Gazing at me, Luke starts singing the first verse of the song, and I let him. It almost feels like he’s serenading me. Almost. All that’s missing is a guitar or a boombox over his head. 

“I'm no superman I can't take your hand And fly you anywhere you want to go Yeah I can't read your mind Like a billboard sign And tell you everything you want to hear But I'll be your hero”

From the chorus onwards, I jump in with backing vocals wherever I feel like it’s acceptable without taking my eyes off of Luke. 

“I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy With heart and soul But if you're the one for me Then I'll be your hero”

“Could you be the one Could you be the one for me” “Oh I'll be your hero” “Could you be the one Could you be the one for me” “Yeah I'll be your hero”

“So incredible Some kind of miracle That's what it's meant to be I'll become a hero So I wait, wait, wait, wait for you”

We keep our eyes locked at the high note too, smiles plastered on our faces from ear to ear. Singing with Luke gives me some kinda rush. A feeling I can’t quite describe but it’s a feeling I want to feel more often. 

“Yeah, I'll be your hero Yeah”

“Cause I I can be everything you need If you're the one for me Like gravity I'll be unstoppable I, Yeah, I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy with and soul But if you're the one for me I'll be your hero”

“Yeah, I'll be your hero”

“Could you be the one Could you be the one for me”

“Yeah I'll be your hero”

The music fades out in our headphones, and soon, Connor’s applause sounds through it instead. I’m snapped back into reality, away from cloud 9, away from the pure bliss that’s singing with Luke and gazing into his eyes. 

“That was amazing! Good job, guys!” Connor says, beaming. 

Luke and I remove our headphones and he grabs my hand to lead me back to the decks where Connor welcomes us with open arms and a wide smile. 

“I thought you and Julie were the most watchable duetters, but I’ve been proven wrong.” 

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks before Luke snaps me out of it again. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Con. Can you send the finished product to the band and our manager? I’m sure they’d like to hear this. Don’t tell them who’s on backing vocals, though. They don’t need to know that.”

I swallow a lump in my throat and try to convince myself it’s probably not that deep. Luke doesn’t want to be seen with me. Not even by his band mates. It’s fine. It’s totally fine. 

We wrap up the recording session and I drive Luke back to the coffee shop where he looks behind him and out of every single one of the windows, just to be sure the coast is clear of paparazzi. 

“Thanks for the day, y/n. I really enjoyed spending time with you again.” 

I force a smile. Ever since his statement to Connor about not wanting the band to know about me, I’ve been going over everything in my mind and it has caused me to fold in on myself.

“Yeah, it was fun.” 

He gazes at me for a moment, inspecting every inch of my face as if detecting the lie from my eyes. When I think he’s just going to bid his goodbyes and get out, he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his body to me and reaches for his phone. I watch as he unlocks it and taps away on it before turning the device towards me. There’s a new contact form open on his screen. 

“Gimme your number. I’d love to do this again some day.” 

I furrow my brow while taking the phone in my hands. “Do you even have time to spend days with a nobody like me?” I don’t dare look at him and keep my eyes on the screen as I type my name and number. 

He doesn’t say anything either until I finally cave and look up when giving his phone back. There’s a crease in his forehead as his eyebrows are knitted together in confusion. 

“You’re not a nobody, y/n. I’d gladly make time for you. I told you, I loved spending days away from reality. Especially with you.” Fangirl Me is jumping out of my skin while Present Me tries to keep her cool and ignore all of the butterflies that erupt in her stomach. 

“Cool,” Present Me says out loud while Fangirl Me is scolding her so hard. 

Cool? Cool?! Seriously? Dude.   

“I’ll text you, yeah?” 

I nod my head in response and watch as he gets out of my car. Before I can even place my foot on the gas or shift out of park, my phone beeps in the pocket of my sweater. For the first time in forever, I smile when seeing an unknown number on my screen. 

As I look out of my window, I find Luke looking at me with his hood pulled over his head again. He shoots me a quick smile and a wave before I turn to my phone again and type a reply. 

I whip my head up to see his reaction. His jaw drops before his face turns into a scowl as he glares at me. Giggling and satisfied with the reaction, I place my phone on the passenger’s seat where Luke was sitting before and then pull out of the parking spot. 

That night, I save Luke’s number to my phone. I go between “Luke P.”, “Patterson” and “Luke ❤️” but eventually decide on the funnier option and save him as “Poo Musician 💩”.   

I stand in line at the coffee shop before 8:30 that morning and I’m a little nervous. Last night when I returned from my day with Luke, the two of us had been texting back and forth. I felt like a sixteen year old again. One of those giggly teenagers that’s texting their crush. Which is what I was, but it’s been a while since I felt like it. 

Once I have an iced vanilla latte and an iced caramel macchiato, I head outside where I find a boy waiting by my car. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt paired with a bright blue sleeveless sweater, his hood pulled far over his head so his face is hidden from prying eyes. 

I don’t need to see his face to know it’s Luke. I’d recognize those muscles from a mile away. The way he’s leaning against the hood of my car and the way he’s holding his phone is a dead giveaway too. 

“Your coffee, sir,” I say in a serious, deep voice. 

Luke’s head snaps up, eyes wide. He looks like a deer caught in headlights until he notices it’s just me and relaxes. A smile etches onto his face as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his jeans whilst taking the coffee I ordered for him with his other hand. 

He takes a cautious sip from the beverage. “Hm, Caramel Macchiato, someone’s been stalking me.” I know he’s just teasing, I can tell by the way one corner of his mouth curls up and his eyes have that childlike glint in them. 

Making my way to the driver’s side of my car, I smile and say, “Contrary to popular belief, Patterson, I’m not a stalker. I just remembered your order from yesterday.” 

Luke’s smile tells me something I’d rather not think about. It’s like he’s saying “You remembered my order” in that flirty way only he knows how to. I simply shrug before opening my door and getting in with Luke following my example. Without missing a beat, he fishes my phone from between my fingers and grabs my free hand to use my thumb to unlock my phone. This time, I don’t object and let him. I know that it’s just to get to my music app anyway. 

While Journey’s Anyway You Want It plays through the car’s speakers, I pull out of the parking spot in front of the coffee shop and start driving to the next location I’d found during my research the other night. 

“Where’re we going?” he asks, and I flashback to yesterday when he asked me the exact same question in that exact same way. 

I smile as I place my cup in the cupholder between the two of us. “You’ll see.” I glance over, finding him tilting his head slightly and giving me that ‘Really?’ look. “I promise it’s very secluded and not a lot of people will be there.” 

“Cool,” he says and sips. “Is this where you’re going to kidnap me and hold me for ransom? I bet you could get a lot of money for a Julie and The Phantoms band member.” 

I snort at his remark. “How much do you think I could get for you?” 

He scrunches up his nose in thought, which I catch as I take a quick glance at him again. As I face the road again, I reach for my coffee and take a quick sip, awaiting Luke’s response to my question. 

“Like 10k?” 

I nearly spit out my coffee. “10k?!” I screech, and his laugh thunders through my car. “Careful or I’ll actually kidnap you and hold you for ransom if I’m gonna earn that much.” 

The laughter dies down and after a few moments of silence lingering in the air, Luke says, “How much do you think I’m worth?” 

Without missing a beat, I respond to his question, dead serious. “Not even a dollar.”  

Luke gasps, his mouth dropping in absolute disbelief while I can’t help but cackle loudly. Judging from this conversation alone, I’m positive today will be a good day. A good, fun day. 

“I’m worth more than a dollar, right?” 

“No, you’re right, I’d probably ask like a million and then no one will pay the ransom and you’ll have to stay with me for the rest of your life.” 

I let out my best maniacal laughter as I feel him watch me. I know the exact look he’s giving me. The look. The one with the glistening eyes and the slightly turned up lips. The one all girls and gays swoon for. The one I would swoon for if I’d turn my head right now. But I don’t. For once in my life, I’m smart and keep my eyes on the road. 

“You like me,” he states proudly. 

“Slightly less strong dislike.” I’m lying through my teeth, but I’m hoping Luke won’t notice. Or at least not acknowledge it because I can already feel the heat rising to my cheeks. 

“I’ll take it.” 

He reaches forward and turns the volume up as Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space” floats through the speakers. Very loudly, and very obnoxiously, the boy begins to sing along. If it wasn’t for the velvet smooth voice, I would’ve scolded at him to keep it down. But the sound actually makes my toes curl and my stomach flutter. For a verse, I let him sing by himself while I enjoy his performance but by the chorus, I can’t withhold myself and sing along with him. 

The rest of the ride is filled with belting of the road trip tunes, laced with patches of small talk. It’s the perfect car ride, and before we know it, we’ve arrived at our destination. Santa Fe Dam Recreation Area. The parking lot is practically empty, aside from two cars, which I’m assuming are the staff’s. It’s the perfect indication that I picked the right spot to go to, and I can tell Luke knows it too. 

He’s bouncing in his seat, either from excitement or the amount of sugar that was in his iced coffee, and when I turn off the ignition and turn to him, he looks at me with the widest smile plastered on his face. He almost looks like an excited toddler on Christmas morning, ready to open his presents. 

“I came here once with my parents when I was younger,” he tells me, “I love this place.” 

His confession makes me smile. “Good because I’ve been scouring the internet for the perfect place.” He shoots me the look again. “Stop looking at me like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re going to kiss me.” 

He shrugs, “Maybe I want to.” 

“So you want me to slap you?” 

His smile fades away immediately. “Let’s go,” he grumbles and quickly gets out. 

I heave in a deep breath, recollecting myself before getting out too and retrieving the backpack I brought, filled with stuff for today. Including my itinerary – or just a notebook filled with some ideas I had. 

“How about we start with a bike ride across the park?” I suggest, pointing at the bike rental shop I found on Google the other night. 

We walk into the rental place, expecting there to be bikes upon bikes but instead, we’re met with kayaks, pedal boats and go-karts. My eyebrows furrow, creasing my forehead as I look around the space. Why’s this called a bike rental when there are technically no bikes to rent? No actual bikes. 

“I thought we were going for a bike ride?” Luke says, teasingly. I look up at him, and I think my face tells him enough about my knowledge about this place. My research clearly wasn’t sufficient. 

Deciding to just roll with the circumstances, I roll my shoulders back and put a smile on my face. “Yeah, we’re going on a bike ride with one of these!” I say and point to the large, green go-kart. One of those that look like an old-school car at the front and have children’s seats in front of the terribly cushioned seats for adults. The ones with the small plastic wheel and bike pedals for two adults. I remember going on one of those big ones for six people with my family. 

“You’re serious?” Luke asks, his eyes wide. 

Instead of answering, I shoot him a smile before stepping forwards towards the staff member at the counter. The woman behind the counter looks no older than 45 and has long, billowing blonde locks that cascade down her shoulders. Her bright blue piercing eyes glisten as they land on the two of us, clearly glad she sees some customers so early in the day. 

“Good morning,” she greets with a smile, “We open in half an hour.” 

“Oh…” My research has been poor. 

Before I can possibly think of an answer, Luke steps forward and flashes the woman a smile. I’m not sure if he’s going to use his manly charms or if he’s going to pull the “Don’t you know who I am?” card. 

“Can’t you… make an exception for us?” he asks, leaning his elbow on the counter as he looks at the woman through his lashes. The woman looks up at Luke, her face like stone. She doesn’t recognize him and doesn’t fall for his charms either. 

Shaking my head, I spring into action. I quickly change the ring on my index finger to my ring finger and wrap my arm around Luke’s bicep while the other rests on his chest, making sure the ring is as visible as can be. As I flutter my eyelashes at the woman, I let the words tumble out of my mouth. 

“Please, ma’am? It’s our one year engagement anniversary and he was going to take me on this romantic bike ride….” I then lean forward over the counter. “He’s not very good at researching our dates, but he tries.” 

The woman’s eyebrows knit together as her eyes dart from me to Luke and back. 

“Aren’t you guys a little young to be engaged?” 

Luke jumps into the improvisation spot. “We’ve been told that a lot but we’ve been best friends for years and there’s no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” He looks down at me and when I glance up, too, he kisses the tip of my nose, which I then scrunch. 

I ignore the flutters in my stomach and face the woman again. She seems to have softened, her eyes less icy than it was before. Then, she turns to her computer and clicks through a few browsers before facing us again. 

“What do you guys want? The Surrey?” She points to the green bike-thing at the front of the shop. I nod my head in response. “Okay. You’ve got it for two hours for the price of one hour.” 

A smile etches its way to my face. “That’s perfect, thank you.” 

 Luke pays the woman the rental fee and then she helps us get Surrey out of the garage. After bidding our goodbyes, Luke and I pedal off on the bike. 

“One year engagement, really?” Luke asks me when we’re far enough from the rental and I switch my rings back around. 

“Well, whatever you were doing didn’t work.” 

 He scoffs. “It was working.” 

We pedal down the winding road with the wind blowing through our hair. I love how warm the breeze is and how the birds are chirping in the trees around us. This is the perfect day to go out and do this. 

“What exactly were you planning to do?” I ask him, glancing up at him. He’s focusing on the road ahead of us, a comfortable smile resting on his lips while his eyes flick from one side to another, taking everything in. 

He glances down at me, the smile turning into a smirk. “I was going to charm her with my manly wiles.” 

“And how was that working for ya?” 

For a second, we lock eyes. Luke has an annoyed look on his face while I can’t help but have my lips curl up on one side into a smirk. When he whips his head forward again, I notice the slight tint of pink covering his cheeks. 

Did I just make Luke Patterson blush? 

“So,” he coughs. “Whatcha wanna do?”

I shrug. “We could play twenty questions? Get to know each other better.” 

He nods his head in response. “You wanna start?” 

“That’s your first question?” 

“That’s yours?” 

I press my lips together, shutting myself up for just a moment before recomposing myself. I’m not going to lie, I totally Googled some questions to ask in a game of 20 questions. So, I’m prepared. 

“If you had to be trapped on a deserted island with one of your friends, who would you pick and why?” Luke’s eyes widen at the question a little. 

“Woah, straight in! I thought you were gonna start with ‘favorite color’ or something.” He chuckles lightly, and so do I. “Uhm… Not Alex, he’d probably be super anxious and pace all the way across the island and make me nervous. Not Reggie either, he’d be singing country songs the entire time, though he is a great cuddler. Maybe Julie? Though she’s gonna be miserable without Flynn….” 

With every thought he says out loud, my smile grows bigger and bigger. 

“You?” My heart leaps in my chest at his answer. “Yeah, I like spending time with you and what better place to get away from real life than a deserted island, right?” 

Without missing a beat, the next words pour out of my mouth. “It’s cute how you think we’re friends now.” I surprise myself with the words I speak. We are friends, but I like winding him up into thinking we’re not. 

“Friends who wanna kiss each other.” 

Ignoring the heat rising to my cheeks, I reply, “You mean kill?” 

Luke shakes his head, an amused smile on his face. “When are you going to admit that you like me?” 

“Never – Next question.” 

“Uhm… What was the last thing you stole or shoplifted?” he asks and I’m glad he doesn’t push any further on the fact I basically admitted that I like him. 

“Oh! A magnet in a tourist shop in Lanzarote,” I reply, giggling a little at the memory. “I was there with a couple of friends during Spring Break and those magnets cost way too much for what they are and there was like a rack outside the shop. So, I shoplifted an overpriced Lanzarote magnet.” 

Luke throws his head back as he laughs, nearly steering us into the bushes. “That’s amazing,” he cackles.  

We cruise through the entire park for two entire hours, asking each other questions, and after returning the Surrey, we walk towards the lake where we settle down onto the blanket I brought for some food. I’d prepared an entire picnic basket for us to enjoy during our lunch. 

“I find it very cute that you made an entire picnic basket for our first date.” 

I smile. “I find it very cute that you think this is a date.” 

He gives me the look again, but I ignore it and get every piece of food out of my backpack, sprawling it out around us. Sandwiches, chopped up vegetables and fruits, muffins,... All the delicious foods you’d find in a picnic. 

“Tell me more about your childhood,” Luke then says as he takes a chicken sandwich and takes a bite. “You don’t talk about it much.” 

My heart drops into my stomach. I wish he wouldn’t ask about that. Talking about my childhood means talking about my mother and I’ve been trying to avoid that for the past years. Not that many of my friends even know about that. 

“I told you plenty.” 

“You talked about your teenage years, but never about your childhood.” 

I take a deep breath. He’s not going to shut up about this until I tell him. It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s just that I don’t love talking about what happened with my mother. It’s something I’d much rather forget. 

“There’s a reason for that,” I reply pointedly and then shut myself up by taking a sip from the box of orange juice. I’d packed one for the both of us, but I’m the only one who’s opened it already as Luke had gone straight in with the sandwiches. 

Luke stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. His eyes pierce through my soul and give me a sense of comfort. They lift a weight of my shoulders and chest that I hadn’t even noticed were there. His eyes feel like coming home. Comfortable. A place to relax. A place to be me, be myself. 

I heave in a deep breath and place my juice box on my nervously bouncing knee, holding it with my hand. It doesn’t stop the bouncing, so now my whole body is practically shaking along with the movement. 

“I–” I stop myself, reconsidering my words. “My childhood wasn’t the sunshine and roses it’s supposed to be.” I chuckle nervously and when I meet Luke’s eyes again, they’re looking at me with such intent that I almost launch forward and kiss him. But I don’t. 

“Mom was… difficult to live with…” I start cautiously,  not even daring to look at Luke as I speak and keep my eyes on the still lake in front of us. “She uhm… After I was born, she kinda went into postnatal depression. She didn’t take care of me, she barely even looked at me… At one point, it went so far that she got into an accident, on purpose, with me in the back. She did it a few times, even, to the point where dad just had to report it. She was admitted to the psych ward and that was that... I was ten at the time.” I swallow to hold back the tears that are pricking behind my eyes. 

Feeling a soft brush of the hand on my knee, I glance up, meeting Luke’s eyes. They give me that sense of comfort again, that sense of home, the reassurance that I’m okay. 

“We haven’t really seen her since. She’s out of our lives…” I sniffle and place my hand over Luke’s, giving it a thankful squeeze. “I don’t like talking about it.” 

Luke carefully laces his fingers through mine, his cold rings cooling my warm hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” I shrug dismissively. “But thank you for telling me.” 

“So, tell me,” I lift our entwined hands for a second as though pulling us back into reality. “How did Sunset Curve-slash-Julie and The Phantoms came to be?” 

Luke chuckles before engulfing our locked hands with his other and tumbling into the origin story of the bands he was in. He talks about meeting Reggie and Alex in primary school, and then meeting Bobby in middle school. He explains how they started the band in music class and then continued playing together until Bobby moved away from Los Angeles. The story then lapses into giggles and chuckles about all the things they tried to keep Sunset Curve alive, but terribly failed. 

“But then we met Julie in high school and – the rest is history.” 

We’re clearing up our mess before making our way back towards the car. I love hearing Luke talk, especially about the band. It makes his eyes light up and he gets all bouncy and enthusiastic. It’s the cutest side of Luke I ever did see in the past few days of hanging out with  him.

I take one last look at the lake where tiny dots of humans are floating along on the lake in their tiny boats. There are just a few, so nothing to worry about, but it does make me want to go kayaking too. Mostly because I don’t want the day to end. 

“Wanna go kayaking?” I ask Luke, pulling him to a halt by tugging at our still intertwined hands. His eyes dart from mine to the lake and back. I can tell he’s debating it, but then he nods and a smile appears on his face. 

With our hands intertwined, we go back to the rental place and ask the woman for a double kayak. We pay, put on the safety vests she’s given us and then proceed onto the water. As we pedal along, Luke tells me about all the adventures he’s been on with his friends and how he used to do this all the time before his schedule got so crazy. 

Every now and again, he stops and pretends to tip the kayak, making me squeal each and every time whilst he laughs his most maniacal laugh. 

The wall I’d built around my heart was slowly crumbling. Every laugh, every touch, every glance took away a small part of the brick wall. I’m falling in love with the boy I’d had a crush on and then strongly disliked for a good five-ish days. 

Getting distracted was not a good idea as I’m not prepared for what follows next. Luke pretends to tip it over again, but this time, he wobbles too hard and actually makes the boat topple overhead. I squeal, but quickly shut my mouth as I tumble into the water, making sure not too much of the lake’s contents gets into my body. 

“Patterson!” I scowl as I crash the surface again and find Luke laughing a few feet away. His brown, shaggy hair sticks to his head, dripping small drops of water onto his face. If I wasn’t so angry at him, I would definitely kiss him right here, right now. 

“I hate you!” I splash some water at him as the words roll off my lips. Luke’s laughter abruptly stops and he stares at me. His once glistening eyes dull down while his mouth falters into a frown. 

“You do?” 

My face softens as I watch him. He looks so beautiful with his hair all dishevelled and the reflection of the sun on the water mirroring onto his face. I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him so bad. 

I swim closer towards him and stroke his wet hair out of his face. My breath hitches in my throat at how close we are but I try to play it off by keeping my hands on his face and my eyes locked with his. I notice his eyes flicking down to my lips a few times, telling me he wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him. 

Should I? Full throttle? Or step on the brakes? 

I don’t even get the time to think about it as Luke presses his lips to mine. Now I don’t hesitate a single moment and immediately kiss him back. Sliding my hands into his wet locks and pressing my body as close as I can, I melt entirely into him. The same sense of bliss I have when singing with Luke washes over me and I find myself on cloud 9 again.  

We pull back after a moment to catch our breath. The glint in his eyes is back and his mouth, though a little swollen and red, curls up into a smile. He presses one more kiss to my nose before helping me towards the shore. We climb out of the water and bring the boat back to the rental place, along with our safety vests. 

Grabbing my backpack I had left with the woman for safekeeping, Luke and I bid our goodbyes and leave the rental, intertwining our hands again. The feeling his hand in mine gives me will never get old. 

As we get to the car again, I yawn, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over me. Luke smiles upon noticing this and takes the keys from my hand. Wordlessly, he presses a kiss to my forehead and then leads me to the passenger side. He opens the door and lets me get in before shutting the door and jogging to the other side. 

The car is filled with a comfortable silence, just the crackling of a song playing on the radio filling out the quietness. I rest my head against the headrest and glance at Luke every now and again as he drives Sabrina. He has that one-hand feel on the steering wheel and the other rest comfortably in mine on the gearshift. 

“I had a lot of fun today,” I mumble, unable to speak any louder. 

A smile etches its way to Luke’s face. “Me too.” He takes a quick glance at me and then lifts our hands to plant a kiss on my knuckles. “Our band’s house is closer, you want to stop there and get us dry before you go home?” 

I hum softly, letting my eyes fall shut for a moment. Luke’s thumb grazing the back of my hand almost lulls me to sleep until he curses before the car comes to a halt. He pulls his hand away from mine and when I look up, the driveway and street in front of the enormous white-brick house is filled with dozens of cars. 

“Fuck, I forgot about the album wrap party,” he grumbles and then looks over at me. I’m shivering from the cold and exhaustion. “I can’t let you drive home like that.” 

I’m unsure if he’s talking to me or pondering out loud, but I shake my head instead. “It’s fine,” I say. “My house isn’t that far away… I think…” 

“No, y/n. I’m not letting you drive home exhausted and cold.” His voice is stern, yet laced with a bit of worry. “You’re gonna come in and I’m– I’m gonna bring you up to my room. You can dry off there and maybe take a nap or something. Yeah! Yeah, that’s it!” He sounds way too excited about something so banal. 

He hops out of the car and quickly jogs over to my side whilst I’m already opening the door. Before I could react, he tugs me towards the house. I can barely get my bearings or take the time to look where I’m going before I’m pulled into a room. 

“There are shirts and joggers in the dresser over there, pick out whichever you like and then take a nap or something. I’ll be back before you know it.” He kisses my cheek and then dashes towards the door. 

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” 

He lets go of the door handle and slowly turns towards me. His eyes are laced with regret as he takes in the sight in front of him. I must look ridiculous with my hair and clothes wet and bags under my eyes. 

“Please, y/n? I can’t have people know about us, okay? I just – can’t…” 

Turning on his heel, he opens the door and leaves me in his bedroom all alone. I take a minute to let the information process in my brain before turning around and taking in the room I’m in. 

The walls are painted white, except for the one wall behind his bed that’s a muted dark blue. His bed is king size and on either side is a nightstand. I inch closer to the one that’s actually filled with stuff, which I’m assuming is the one he uses most. Nightstand contents often tell a lot about a person. His contains the band’s autobiography, “Bruce Springsteen: All The Songs” and “Beach Read” by Emily Henry, the book I started the other week and shared on Instagram Stories. 

Would he have seen that and decided to read it too? 

Shaking the ridiculous thought out of my head, I move over to his dresser and take out a pair of joggers and his Rush muscle tank I’ve seen him in many a time during gigs. I peel my drenched clothes off my body and get into Luke’s freshly washed ones. They smell of his laundry products. It’s a fresh and calming scent.

For a while, I look around his room. The books on the shelves and the pictures on the walls, most of which of the band and some of him and Carrie Wilson. There had been a rumor about him dating the Instagram Influencer, but I’d never believed it until I saw her face pop up in some of the framed photos in his room. 

I decide to go and venture about the house since all the commotion seems to be outside in the garden. I weave through hallway upon hallway, finding more photos and more things that belong to the band. The living room walls are adorned with platinum records and other awards they’d won over the two years they’d been active in the music industry. I can’t help but feel a sense of pride rush over me. That’s my favorite band right there. That’s the boy I’ve fallen in love with. 

“Excuse me – Who are you?” 

The voice makes me jump out of my skin. I thought everyone was outside. When I look up, I find the perfectly flawless face of Carrie Wilson. Her long, blonde hair cascades into curls down her shoulders and back while her round, brown eyes stare at me with intent and curiosity. 

“Oh, sorry. I’m y/n. I–” I stop myself, remembering Luke didn’t want anyone to know about us. That includes his girlfriend – or ex-girlfriend. 

Carrie’s mouth curls up into an amused, curious smile, catching onto what’s happening. “You’re Luke’s new adventure, aren’t you?” I huff out the breath I was holding. It’s a telling huff, I’m sure. “You are…” She trails off and inspects me for a second before continuing. “Just so you know, it’s not going to work. Luke’s too infatuated with this lifestyle of his. He loves his job, he loves his stardom. He loves it too much to ever focus on a partner. Believe me, we tried.” 

I exhale at the use of her past tense, but then all the other information downs on me. Luke’s life is so much different from mine. While I work several jobs to pay for college and still live with my dad, he lives by himself and tours the world. He’s too busy to start anything serious with me. Whatever happened in the last few days was just temporary. 

“You seem sweet, y/n, so I’m going to be frank. Get out before it’s too late. You’re only gonna get hurt if you’re gonna stay.” As she passes me, she places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.  

If my brain wasn’t going a mile a second about everything she’s telling me, I would be caught off guard by how sweet Carrie Wilson is. She’s always portrayed as this complete ego-centric bitch who used people to her advantage. 

The exhaustion taking over, I shuffle back upstairs and sit down on Luke’s bed but when I hear the commotion outside die down and guitar strums float through the air into the house, I grow curious. I get up from the bed and make a beeline towards the ceiling-to-floor glass doors that give out onto a balcony. I carefully open the door and step out, the summer breeze tickling my skin while Luke’s voice reaches my ears. 

The balcony looks out onto the garden, it’s just out of sight from where everyone’s huddled up around the band. I lean my elbows on the bannister and watch on as Luke’s voice floated through the air. 

“I'm no superman I can take your hand And fly you anywhere you wanna go, yeah I can read your mind Like a billboard sign And tell you everything you wanna hear, but I'll be your hero”

I smile at the memory of us in the studio yesterday. The last few days have been perfect. Just… Perfect. And now this girl has to come and ruin it by pulling me back into reality. 

“Cause I, I can be everything you need If you're the one for me, like gravity, I'll be unstoppable I, yeah I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy without his soul But if you're the one for me Then I'll be a hero Oh, I'll be a hero, yeah I'll be a hero”

It’s not that Carrie isn’t right. She is. Luke is way too busy with the band and his fame and everything around it. He doesn’t have time or room between those things for me. Not for an ordinary girl. Not for anyone. 

“So incredible Some kinda miracle That when it's meant to be, I'll become a hero, oh So I'll wait, wait, wait, wait for you”

Luke’s eyes meet mine as he hits that high note and his mouth curls up into that beautiful smile I’ve come to love. Once again, I’ve fallen in love with someone who would never reciprocate those feelings. If I don’t get out now, I’m going to get hurt. 

“Yeah I'll be a hero Cause I, I can be everything you need If you're the one for me, like gravity, I'll be unstoppable I, yeah I believe in destiny I may be an ordinary guy without his soul But if you're the one for me I'll be a hero Yeah, yeah I'll be a hero, yeah I'll be a hero Hero”

As the last notes of his song ring out into the night, I grab my still wet clothes and my keys Luke left on the dresser, and then leave the house. My heart breaks with every step I take, but I know it’s what’s best for me. It’s what’s best for both of us. There’s no room for me in his life. Like he said, he’s no superman, he can’t handle this many things at once. Not even a hero would be able to.  

Everything taglist:

@wanniiieeee @phantompogues 

JATP taglist:

@hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @charliesmountains @thedarkqueenofavalon @calamitykaty @caitsymichelle13 @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti @stellasmusa @n0wornever @kaitieskidmore1 @tefilovesreading @pxperphxntom @crybabyddl @crybabyddl @headheartbellarke @authentic-gillespie @happinessinthedarkesttimes @bright-molina @rangerelik @cordeliascrown @willex-owns-my-heart @fangirlangioma @frickin-bats @flower-name @jaskiers-sweetkiss @jandthephantoms @kelpwithawhy  @the-hufflepuff-hunter @lookingthroughmirrors @buckybarnesishot310 @echocharm17618 @littlemissaddict @mystic-writings @joynerxmercer @brooke0297 @magicalxdaydream @musicianspiritsblog @bexxy @ruvaitkevicius @whitetigerlover17 @stressyanddepressysimp  @talk-on-the-street @theolivekiddo @sunsetcurvej @teti-menchon0604 @candycornmgg @gray_jato

Charlie/Luke taglist: 

@lukeys-giggle​ @gingerxarmy​ @lovesanimals​ @lolychu​ @perfectlywrongformend3s​ @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98​ @myfriendscallmebeans​ @rachmmb​ @whitemanshoe19​ @killerqueenfan​ 

TAGLIST |  MASTERLIST 

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatpsongficfeb #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson fic #luke jatp #luke patterson x fem!reader #modern!au #StarStruck

[createandconstruct]

can i ask about amarant coral? the monk in red himself~

Can you ask about Amarant Coral? *cracks fingers* Oh I insist that you do. Welcome to my Amarant Appreciation Post:

favorite thing about them: First off best thing about Amarant? His theme. The percussion and the guitar. It’s great and it captures him so well. People out here like “take Amarant out of the game he adds nothing.” EXCUSE ME? You remove the Amarant you remove the Amarant Theme my friend and that is something I do NOT vibe with. 

least favorite thing about them: I wanna know more about him. Now Amarant doesn’t need a backstory or history in the game. In a sense, he already has one that connects him to Zidane and explains his motives and actions and eventual arc. But my issue is, Square never gave him anything else. If you look at Ultimania there’s additional lore about other characters, like Steiner for instance. You learn Steiner was a war orphan who was saved by the Pluto Knights - explaining his devotion to them. Amarant though? Square was like “uh... yeah he was born....? And then he uh got famous...? Idk then he met Zidane. You figure it out.” Square. I hate you. 18 years from his birth until he became “well known”. WHAT WAS HE DOING. WHY’D HE BECOME A SECURITY GUARD. WHAT WAS ON HIS RESUME. TELL MEEEE. Like, okay, what the actual in-game canon gives us on Amarant is sort of enough. He’s a purposely written mysterious “cool-guy” character so we’re given scraps to make him unknown but come on. In the published after-game canon, like Ultimania, we could have been given a bit more. He says he doesn’t remember anything about his origins or parents, but why. Was he another victim of Gaia’s wars? Probably. Was he born on a battlefield? Fighting for his life, living without comrades, taking scraps whenever he could? Was he betrayed when he was young? Is he a supposed to be a version of Zidane had he not been adopted into Tantalus by Baku??? These are questions I deserve answers to, Square.

favorite line: “’I can't just walk away. It goes against my nature...’ You're a real simpleton. Forget it, guys. There's no stopping this fool." I love this. Amarant figures Zidane out pretty quickly after Ipsen’s Castle. Zidane is hardheaded and also an actor. He acts cool and pretends his reasons for doing things are loose but when he’s decided something it’s always for a reason. You don’t need a reason to help people, but Zidane has his reasons for helping Kuja and while Amarant doesn’t give two shits what they are he knows Zidane won’t be stopped because, despite everything, Zidane saved a loser like him. Also this line “Tell me! Why didn't you kill me!?" Because I quote it all the time and it makes myself laugh. Amarant is such a drama queen and Zidane knows it. Zidane’s like “dude... what is your damage, it’s 5 pm on Tuesday in Madain Sari. I ain’t getting blood on my gloves cause you’re having a temper tantrum.” And then Amarant runs away to have an existential crisis. He’s 26 but compared to Zidane, he’s the real teenager with angst.  

brOTP: I could talk about Zidane or Freya with Amarant but instead I’m gonna say the underrated dynamic of Amarant and Eiko (and also Vivi).  Amarant with the kids is truly the greatest gift given by his presence in the game. Amarant has never known true suffering until he became a designated legal guardian of a group of minors. It also kills me how he’s the one to volunteer to carry Eiko and Vivi up the Iifa tree. He looks at Zidane and is like “you have seriously been the ‘adult’ of this group???”

OTP: Gotta say the Freya and Amarant dynamic. I really enjoyed their unlikely friendship in the game but then the content. The fan content. The Freya x Amarant fans out there, you win. Ya got me. You captured me and I am now imprisoned by their banter and begruntled allies to lovers story. Even if they’re not romantic I love them together and really wish the game gave us more of them. But even Lani and Amarant together are valid, though I prefer them as butting head bros. Not much content for my girl Lani out there either, she deserves more.

nOTP: Nothing I can think of. I tend to like platonic pairings for Amarant. The dude needs friends because he can barely define the word friendship.

random headcanon: Before Zidane returns at the end of the game Amarant wanders around a bit, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t feel any place with the others in Alexandria, Burmecia, or Lindblum. I imagine he goes off on his own for a bit like before but this time he’s not after Zidane or a fight. Instead he’s got no particular destination. Yet he somehow always finds himself running into people just like him - or the old him - friendless lonely people who are looking for a fight. He doesn’t go out his way to find these folks he simply runs into them and decides he might as well knock some sense into them. He does however make it his business to go after any murmur of people hatching any ideas of going after the far off little village on the Lost Continent. The home of the genomes and black mages. They were so helpless, so weak that anyone who’d want to mess with them is pathetic in Amarant’s book. Until Zidane returns, no one has the chance to even look at the Black Mage Village the wrong way because in the shadows Amarant lurks, making damn well sure of that.

unpopular opinion: I kinda love that he’s just there for most of the game? While I agree he gets the short end of the stick in the same way as Freya, not receiving additional individual character spotlight (which could have very well been supplied through discoverable lore in the world/npcs or through sidequests) I never considered his “standing off to the side” as a detriment to his character. 

Many would probably agree that Amarant always felt like a bit of a parody of the loner character, or at least the stereotype of the loner character. Amarant is so easily paralleled with Squall and Cloud’s surface-level attitudes because his dialogue always felt like something to poke fun at. As the player we’re supposed to align with Zidane’s way of thinking and how he views Amarant. When Amarant loses to Zidane and pretty much grits his teeth and goes “KILL ME,” along with Zidane we’re supposed to kinda raise our brow at him and go “...really, dude?”

 Amarant’s a character introduced as an antagonist who has more in common with the power hungry villains of the game. Like many of the characters in FFIX, Amarant is in search of purpose in life, which he has never found, because he was always looking in the wrong places - in places of violence and power. Very toxic-masculinity of him. Amarant is “cool” on an aesthetic level but in reality he’s the polar opposite of cool in terms of what FFIX states about the need for others to be intertwined in your experiences so that you can live a full life. 

I sort of love that he’s like a grumpy pitball following a 16 year old and his friends around. Then he sits in the corner when they all meet up and discuss current events acting like he doesn’t care (not to mention he casually walks as everyone is running as fast as they can to escape Terra - made me laugh cry on my first playthrough) He is “just there” but that’s because he has no where else to be, no where else to go, he’s a man without a home. And until Zidane offers his hand, at the point where Amarant is most willing to take it at Ipsen’s Castle, he’s not truly a party member. He IS an outsider for almost the entire game but at Ipsen Castle he joins the party, becomes a comrade, and decides he’ll allow himself to change paths and start a life where he has friends and lives, as well as fights for them. Which is why after that moment, Amarant finally has a victory pose.

song i associate with them: I was scratching my head for so long trying to think of a song or track that had Amarant vibes until it hit me. Outskirt Stand by Tsukasa Tawada (from Pokemon Colosseum). Amarant is so chill, he’s not a bombastic guy, so he needs a theme that drops me in the rocky open desert of the Lost Continent like I’m just lumbering around looking for a monkey-tailed menace. Some other Amarant tunes:  Pyrite Town, The Under, Snagem Hideout tracks from Pokemon Colosseum. This post is just an elaborate call to action for everyone to listen to the Pokemon Colosseum soundtrack. Tsukasa Tawada is so great and he has a YouTube. Check him out.

favorite picture of them:

Yoshitaka Amano’s Salamander Coral. I love him. He had too much power. 

Also everything drawn by @crispy-ghee. Everything. I will think of this Comic forever until I die. Tattoo it on my flesh. The banter, the dynamics, the post-game content, the Zidane prince-consort outfit, the new Amarant outfit, the stuck-in-the-same-place relationship him and Freya have. Perfect. Go read it and consume Crisipy’s stuff. And also check them and their current art out, they just consistently get better and better. Here’s a first panel preview of my fav comic. Read it.

 @hannahlady​‘s Amarant art and their Freya/Amarant art is just ugh. *Chef’s Kiss* Here is another preview because you should go look at it.

Here’s a piece that deserves so much more love by @snackage. I LOVE how they drew Amarant. Here’s a little preview. It’s SO GOOD

Anyway TL;DR: Amarant is love and life and you’ll have to pull him from my little gremlin hands.

#asks #scriberat #amarant coral #ffix #final fantasy ix #amarant #final fantasy 9 #freya #amarant x freya #lani #zidane tribal #eiko carol

[ivyaugustetc]

hi <3 would it be possible for me to get neil and todd headcanons and do you mind deciding what my relationships with each of them would be? (romantic/platonic)

i’m terrible at describing myself but here it is: i’m an intp, a virgo and a ravenclaw. i go by she/they pronouns. i have a shoulder length wavy hair and naturally it’s black but currently it’s dark brown. oh, i have thick glasses too. i love picnics, old books, knitted sweaters, milky tea, bunnies, classic literature and also period/historical dramas. i specifically listen to classical music and movie soundtracks a lot. (i also have a ton of studying playlists on spotify). i do like writing short stories and poetry but they’re often unfinished/discarded. my friends would see me as a standoffish & sarcastic friend with an old soul but i have always considered myself to be a good listener and a warm person who gets very shy and anxious around new people and would definitely prefer a small group of friends which i stick to all the time. i tend to remember the smallest details about someone. and it’s the hardest for me when it comes to saying no to something even to something that i don’t feel like doing but i’m trying to overcome it!

anyway, thank u so much and i hope you have an amazing day. sending hugs <3

aww all of this is so sweet, i got the perfect welton life for u bestie don't even worry! thank you for sharing that! also i am so so sorry this took so long bestie i am stressed but i'm here and i hope you enjoy!

ship: i'm gonna ship you with my favorite beloved baby todd and make you besties with neil!!

notes:

okay so here we go: i feel like keating would kinda do a version of the improv poetry thing that he did to todd with you, wherein he would see that you have short stories and ask about them. even if you told them they were half-finished or discarded, he would still get you up in front of the class and have you read whatever you've got

and after you stopped he'd be like "well, what happens next?" and you'd tell him that that was where you stopped writing, so you don't have a clue. and he'd be like "of course you do!! this is your story, you've got to know what happens." and then he starts asking you about the fates of certain characters or how the plot lines would continue and you'd just start making stuff up on the spot

but you would keep going. on and on until you've basically written an entire novel in front of the class

and once you've finished, keating is like "well, that sounds like something i'd read."

and the class is kinda staring at you in awe, but who's the most in awe? TODD HECKING ANDERSON.

you just got up in front of the entire class and did what terrifies him the most, and he found himself wishing he could have done what you did

but who seeks you out first? neil flipping perry

he approaches you one day and tells you about the dead poets society (he's discussed this with the other poets of course, and they're chill with it) and invites you to come to a meeting or two

"bring poetry if you've got any. you don't have to read, but i'd like to hear anything you've got."

so you pile together all the poem you've got (they're mostly fragments of ideas, not really finished yet) and even a few short stories just in case you ever got around to showing them

you even decide to bring a few of your old books of poetry and rhyme along with you, just for funzies :)

the meeting starts, and the entire time Todd keeps stealing glances at you, realizing that this is the person from english class who improvised an entire story and holy crap they're kinda pretty aaaaaaahhhhhhhh

the meeting proceeds and you get to read some of your poetry, which is prefaced by the declaration that most are unfinished

but at some points, while you're reading, you find yourself finishing the poems on the spot rather than ending it where the writing stops

most of them don't notice, but Todd can recognize the subtle pauses and hesitations that come with making words up on the spot

the rest of the time you just sit and listen, giving our sweet boy todd enough time to realize that he is head over heels for you omg

from then on, he takes every chance to be close to you, even if it's just small things like taking one step to his left when you're all standing in a group

you get to encouraging each other to write, with you encouraging him to start his poems and him encouraging you to finish them

the decision to date would be quiet and maybe a little awkward at first, but you were already so comfortable with each other that not much changed

lots of sharing sweaters, going on picnics (milky tea included lol), and spending your free time reading classic literature out loud to the other (people reading to each other is SO DIFIJEIOFJIEOWJIO i love it so much)

onto you + neil!

so i feel like he would be the first to recognize todd's crush, but he would respect that todd would rather die than have him say a word to you, so he does what he can (i.e. giving you the idea of writing together, getting all three of you to hang out but mostly letting you and todd do the talking, subtly helping you guys find common interests, etc.)

ultimate wingman neil perry right here

and when you guys do finally decide to date, he is so. fucking. HAPPY.

"i knew it. i knew it! i knew it would happen if i gave it time, and i did, and now look. i love this. i love you. both of you."

on your own though, you and neil would have a great relationship!! you kinda have the same dynamic he has with todd because you're both very similar

he would love hearing your playlists and helping you create more because what else do theatre kids live for if not long and elaborate playlists (not that i'm speaking from experience)

very sweet friendship overall

ugh yeah i love you and todd and neil. so sweet. so wholesome. i hope you think so too <3

#dead poets society #dead poets society headcanons #quinn writes

[ellewords]

Hey Elle! I hope you're doing well! And the lines rhymed 😅. Okay I'm gonna write now.

In a school function, your best friend decides to direct a play about Orpheus and Eurydice. And guess who's going to play the part of Eurydice? Yes, you.

You get a bit confused. A tiny little bit of shyness bubbling inside you, but not for that. Are you going to play dead through the entire play? Your best friend assured you that they're going to add a few scenes where Orpheus reminisces about the time he had with Eurydice. And at the end, he's going to get together with his lover, in the underworld. So, no. You won't have to play dead the entire time.

Okay. Then who's going to play as Orpheus?

None other than Azumane Asahi.

Of course they decided to add him... after all, they knew about the little crush you had on him since he helped you pick a book from the top shelf in the library. They shook their head, "Well, that's not the only reason. I heard he can sing really well." (You can't tell me otherwise!)

Anyways, your best friend manages to make him come and rehearse. He seems really nervous. Fumbling with the lines, sweating, stuttering... his friends and teammates are there to cheer him up. But he got more nervous. Then you decide to help a little.

"Just forget for a while that you're Asahi. Just imagine, that you're Orpheus. You are determined to get your Eurydice back from the underworld."

"H-how?" He nervously asks. You gently hold his hand and say, "Close your eyes." He does. You softly say, "Now forget that we are in an auditorium, rehearsing for a play. Imagine that, it's a forest where your wedding is being held. Forget that I'm Y/n. Just think that I'm your Eurydice. All dolled up to be with you forever. I'm Eurydice, for whom you're determined to go to the underworld and bring me back."

He tightly holds your hand. Not too much, just the perfect amount of tight. He slowly opens his eyes. There is a softness, that wasn't there before... that makes your breath hitch a little.

"I think I can do it now." He says, with a smile.

The rehearsal goes well. His teammates are amazed by how well he was acting... and singing. You were doing your best too.

But it was making you feel too real. You truly start to believe that you're Eurydice. Your Orpheus, Asahi, is mourning your death. He's hell bent on bringing you back to the earth. He will do anything to be with you.

Your crush turned into something more, something serious. And you're not sure if you're ever going to break it to him. But can you suppress it? Whenever he's around, your heartbeat go erratic. His touches, his words, his melodies... all seems so real, so true. But deep down you know, those are Orpheus's words, not his. But you can hope, right?

The day of the function arrives. You are in the backstage, getting your makeup and hair done. Asahi was getting ready nearby. You look at his reflection on the mirror in front of you. When this is done, you both will go back to your separate ways. Maybe you won't be able to see him again...

You swallow the lump in your throat. This is not the time. Asahi looks at you and smiles. You smile back.

It's show time!

(I saw the story on Ted Ed's video. And it seemed better than the wikipedia's version... at least to me.)

— from elle ! please oh my gosh not you using one of my fave greek myths of all time !! plus i’ve been really vibing to the hadestown soundtrack for a few days now and i highly recommend you listen to it esp if you’re a fan of the orpheus-eurydice story :)) i really enjoyed reading this so tysm! placing the short scenario i have under the cut.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

it’s nearly the end of the play, just a few more minutes, asahi thinks to himself. the stage lights are dim, the audience a blurry haze in front of him, trying to keep that determined look on his features as he continued walking forward.

your character was meant to be following him, out of the underworld, away from its darkness. it brings him a certain kind of relief, knowing that you’re right behind him, just a few feet away.

the stage light slowly shines from up above him, a look of desperation slowly makes its way to his face — just like he practiced. and he turns to find you, shocked. tears threatened to spill from your eyes as a gasp escaped your lips.

asahi’s heart beats louder than it ever has, wanting nothing more than to run to you and wipe the tears that stained your cheeks. but he has to stay rooted in his place, just like all the times you’ve practiced this scene. but his heart aches, clenching in his chest, and he’s unsure if it’s him or orpheus feeling it. asahi’s mouth parts, and he almost says your name.

“orpheus!” you cried out, watching as the light above your head slowly dim, implyling your return to the underworld, bringing him back to the play.

the audience holds their breath as asahi falls to his knees, voice quiet as it broke by the final syllable, “eurydice.”

the stage is engulfed in darkness, signaling the play’s end.

and maybe it’s all those weeks he spent in your company, looking into your eyes as he spoke words of affection, hearing you sweetly sing the most romantic love songs for hours on end. it could be the way you squeezed his hand when you took your bows, the look of pride that crossed your features, the way you threw your arms around him the second you stepped backstage. he’s in love with you, he always has been. probably why he accepted the role in the first place.

“i’m in love with you.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: the haikyuu characters have to put on a play! what’s going on?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs​ @mysticstrawberryballoon [let me know if you don’t want to get tagged for margins posts, considering that it’s quite different from the stuff i usually post] 

join my hq taglist here. <3

#orpheus!asahi you live in my mind rent free #also in my head suga is playing hades #kiyoko is persephone and daichi is hermes #hinata yams and noya are cerebrus 🤧 #written on the margins 🔖 #asahi scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #cloudedsky29 <3

[sunsetcurve]

so...the last year has been rough. for everyone. but i’ve been lucky in a lot of ways, especially with the people in my life, and i wanted to take a second to thank some people on here. because genuinely, you guys mean so freaking much to me. i’ve had a lot of online friends in my life but none that feel so much like family. these are the people who have carried me through the last year, who’ve made me feel seen and heard and supported me in all my endeavors and just been wonderful to me all around. i love you guys, and happy new year <3

i’m about to get into it now. and i’ll try not to cry too much along the way.

@neshatriumphs​ nesha, when i say that you’re our fandom mom i mean that you’re my family, i mean that you’re my biggest supporter, my inspiration, my rock, the person who makes me want to be my best self, all the time. i can’t explain to you what your support has meant to me over the years. whether it’s leaving me incredibly kind notes on my fics that make me want to write more just for you, or sending me asks when you know i’m feeling down, or just making me laugh with your hilarious takes, you have always, always been there for me. you’re the toughest person i know and you make me want to keep pushing every day. you’re so incredibly talented; your ideas are just always stunning and inspired and despite being humble about it you’re amazing at everything you do. your art, your writing, your aesthetics, all of it. loeg and share-a-lair were just spectacular and such a show of how complex and original and smart your writing is. barring just your talent you’re also an inspiration in how passionate and kind and dedicated you are. you care for others everywhere you go. you come on here and constantly make me want to be a better person. it’s not just me, either—you’ve taken on the role of helping all of us in any way you can, and you just make us feel loved and supported and give us someone to always look up to. i love you. plain and simple, you’re my family, and i’m so, so grateful to have you in my life.

@juliesdahlias​ you know when you meet someone younger than you and you’re like how do they have this much talent in their body? and you can’t even be mad about it because you just want to root for them and you want good things for them and you think of them like a little sibling? that’s me around you all. the freaking. time. pearl, i’m constantly blown away by how smart and driven and passionate you are. you have so much talent to offer the world and i love seeing you thrive more than anything. you inspire me every freaking day; i mean, your tiara thief drabbles literally made me pull my fic out of my drafts for the first time in months. every time you post it’s something iconic and beautiful, whether its your fics or your edits or your headcanons. and not just that, but you’re so incredibly supportive of everything i put out there. like with ths, the way you latched on to it and are one of our biggest fans and made content for it literally as soon as we started!! that was amazing!! you’re just such an incredible person in every sense of the word; you’re talented and hilarious and kind and passionate and i love you so so much. i cannot wait to watch you do amazing things because i know you’re gonna be one of the greats. ily. 

@ciara-knightly i can’t even put this into words. i’m sitting here trying to say it right and every time i start i just turn into “!!!!!!!!” cause i love you so much. i know i’ve said this before, but shona, you’re honestly like my older sister. this whole year of just, really getting to talk to you beyond tumblr has shown me how honestly kind, passionate, smart, and supportive you are. talking to you is one of my favorite things in the world, whether it’s rambling about tiara thief, or discussing feminism in media, or just getting life advice. you always know what to say to lead me in the right direction and reassure me that things are gonna be okay. i look up to you more than i can tell you; i’m constantly inspired by your talent and your drive. you’re endlessly supportive and you make me laugh all the time, and i hold literally every convo we have close to my chest because it means so much to me to just be able to have them with you. i’ll never be over the fact that you basically discovered jatp, or us talking and making predictions for weeks before it aired, or us plotting out the whole dystopia novel together—which, even though it didn’t really pan out, was such an amazing experience because i got to do it with you. and i absolutely scroll back through our convos on a regular basis to scream over our tiara thief headcanons. everything i’ve done with you has been incredibly fun and meaningful, so what i’m trying to say in this very long winded way is that i’m so, so glad i know you, and i can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. 

@bitchmilsky lizzie, i literally think of you like you’re my little sibling. my weird, crazy, hilarious, incredibly kind and supportive and creative and amazing little sibling. ever since i met you you’ve been nothing but fun and friendly and wonderful to me. your posts never fail to make me laugh and i love seeing whatever you’re up to, even if it’s video games that i understand nothing about. you have so many fun ideas and you’re so freely yourself, it’s honestly inspiring. the things you make are always adorable and every time we go live together and chat i always have so much fun, and talking and i just want to meet you in person so badly because i know we’d be an amazing, unstoppable duo and that you’d make me laugh until my sides hurt. i’m still waiting on that cross-country road trip. we could roll the windows down and belt our way through the entire hd musical soundtrack, and it would be epic. for real, though, you’re one of my favorite people ever, and i hope this year brings you nothing but fun and good things because that’s what you deserve. i’m sending you a million virtual hugs and also booty shorts that say poggers on the ass. i love you <3

@zackmartn i know i’m gonna start crying right now because i love you so much and i’m trying not to because i just did my makeup but dammit, nikki, i just love you so much. i remember when i first came on here and was afraid to talk to you because i was like “ohmygod she’s so cool she’s the king of this fandom she’s amazing” but i thank god that you reached out to me every day. i honestly can’t imagine my life without you; you’ve been such a presence in it for so long that you’re inseparable from it. even the times i’ve gone on hiatus i’ve been stalking your blog from a distance like “i just wanna know what she’s up to...”. you’re honestly like an older sister to me and you’re one of the people i admire the most; you’ve been through and continue to go through so much and yet every day you come on here and decide to be a freaking light to all of us, to make me smile, to support me literally endlessly. like, the amount of times you’ve driven me to near tears from your reviews of my writing is ridiculous. the freaking umana fan club?? the way ths is one of your top tags??? it’s just...insane and such a show of how boundless your support is. and that’s not even getting into how freaking talented you are!!! i stare at your gifsets all the time!! and your fics like....holy shit you literally created this whole universe that i’m so freaking invested in and is better than literally anything that canon could ever do, and i know i’m honestly terrible at responding to messages but i hope you know you never have to start holding back with me. most of the time when i get stuff you send i have to sit there and get my thoughts together and that takes forever, but i love love love reading it anyway. the way you get excited about the things you love is everything, it’s something that i really really love about you, and i hope you continue to keep that passion and love for everything. and i hope that this year brings you nothing but good things, because you deserve that more than anyone. i love you. 

@willexs eliza, babe, i know we joke all the time that we were put on opposite sides of the ocean because we’d be too powerful if we were together but i really think it’s true. imagine us meeting. the universe just wouldn’t be able to handle it; it would implode. listen, you’re literally like my twin, my other half. we have so much in common that it’s honestly ridiculous. we operate on the same brainwave, and every time we talk i’m blown away by how easy it is and i honestly love it so much because i could not have picked a more talented and creative and fun person to work with. writing ths with you has literally been like...one of my favorite writing experiences ever. i can’t believe that it started on such a whim because it’s such an important part of my life now and getting to have you next to me while we figure this whole thing out is honestly the best part. it’s not just all the characters and dynamics we’ve created, it’s the fact that i can send you incoherent ramblings at ungodly hours and you’ll pick them apart, it’s the 3-hour phone calls to make playlists, it’s you always making me feel heard and inspiring me. it’s this like...excitement of building towards something amazing with someone i love. you understand me on this crazy and fundamental level, and sometimes it blows my mind how similar we are and how well you know me without us having even met. i feel like we’re the embodiment of “nobody gets me like you”. and i know i’ve said this before, but i really do think you make me a better writer. i love how you make me laugh, i love that you always have the best takes and i love how talented you are with your incredible adorable art and your fics and your gorgeous edits and i love that we egg each other on and hype each other up. i love that, despite being on opposite sides of the ocean, we’re still best friends. and i love you <3

​@cactus-con lou!!!!!! i literally just...ahh i love you so much!! i know i’ve said this before but you were the first person i talked to in this fandom, and you made me feel so freaking welcome. and that has never changed. talking to you is so easy and natural, and you make me feel loved and heard all the time. i love getting to share stuff with you because you always always always hype me up. not just that but like...your talent?? literally unmatched!!! you’re amazing at everything you do it’s ridiculous. i love love love all your artwork, i could stare at it literally all day. you have so much talent and i literally cannot wait to watch you do such great things with it. i just...you’re such a wonderful person to everyone around you. you spread all this love and support and kindness and i think you’re one of the most genuine people i know and i’m so so glad i know you. i hope this year treats you so well because you deserve nothing but good things. i love you. <3

@owenjoyners where do i even start?? brooke, you’re like my other twin. i know i’ve said this before but it’s literally insane to me that we’ve known each other for less than a year because it feels like i’ve known you my whole life. you are such an incredible freaking person. you’re funny and you’re kind and you’re talented and you make me smile every damn day. i love getting post notifs from you because i swear to god i light up every time. your gifsets are always gorgeous, and i’ve watched you learn and improve and you’ve gotten so good, it makes me so happy every time. your art??? you say you’re just starting out but i can’t even tell you how much i love it. your fics!!! you’re good at everything and it’s honestly ridiculous. and it’s not even about your consistently amazing posts, i also just...i love talking to you more than anything, even if we’re just simping over owen together. you make me laugh all the time and you always hype me up; you’ve let me ramble about my fics and helped me get my ideas together, you’ve talked stupid life stuff like school and college with me, and you’ve given me someone to go to whenever i need it. i think of you as one of my best friends and i can’t get over how fast we clicked or how easy it is to talk to you. i need you to come visit me so i can give you so many hugs and we can have a sleepover and talk for literally hours on end. in the meantime, we need to call again sometime because that was honestly so much fun. i love you with all my heart. 

and some people i want to say thank you to, because even though we don’t talk as often as i’d like you’re still amazing, and you make me smile all the time, and i love seeing you on my dash or in my notes: @taylorswiftrulestheworld @onplanetmars @dr-rigatoni @swellviews-finest @symphonic-concert @molinasmercer

#nikki tag! 💛 #lizzie tag! 💜 #nobody gets me like you tag ❣️ #nesha tag! 💟 #brooke tag! 💙 #lou tag! 💚 #shona tag! 🌟 #heather tag! #otter tag! #jamie tag! #k tag! #faith tag! #monisha tag! #pearl tag! 💖

[polygarnstars]

facts about me that you could state to my face that would hurt more than that ask did

I own three copies of Okami HD, and have beaten exactly zero of them

I paid $40 for Balan Wonderworld, knowing full well that any enjoyment I drew from it as a game would be ironic, and I plan to spend another $10 on the novel so I can be mad about the fact that approximately two percent of the story actually made it into the game

I played Kingdom Hearts as a kid and was attracted to Zexion, and given I am currently attracted to another edgy squenix bastard with emo hair in the form of Therion Octopathtraveler, my taste has apparently not changed since I was ten

I played Sonic 06 and thought it wasn’t terrible

I learned and did a partial speedrun of PMD Red Rescue Team for the sake of getting on someone else’s Let’s Play of the remake

I tried streaming once, only to have to stop because my capture card ate my sound card

The last week and a half of my Spotify history is comprised almost entirely of the Persona 5 soundtrack and various covers of those songs

I’m a furry who can’t even decide on his own fursona’s species or design

I spend so much time reading Nuzlockes, challenge runs of Pokemon games, games for children, I was brought on as staff of the official forums

I do the aforementioned work as Nuzforums staff knowing full well that it is a volunteer position while I am unemployed in real life

I watched the Kirby anime as a kid instead of doing my schoolwork. Years later, I plan to rewatch it in its entirety instead of seeking employment

I voted for Bandana Waddle Dee in the Smash Ballot

On that topic, I’m a Kirby main! I played through the entirety of World of Light using only Kirby! Like, I love Kirby, but who the fuck mains him unironically like that? I don’t even do that strat of succing your opponents and spitting them out over the blast zone where they can’t recover or taking them down with you, like, cmon

I was in anime club in high school

Despite owning it, I’ve never played Among Us, but I still watch other people play it regularly

I didn’t realize the Guardians of Ga’hoole series was a WW2 allegory until I read the TV Tropes page in high school

I got into Kingdom Hearts for the Final Fantasy stuff, and yet to this day the only Final Fantasy game I’ve ever beaten was the DS rerelease of Final Fantasy III

I 100%ed Breath of the Wild less than three weeks after it released, and proceeded to help various streamers do the same, because I had literally nothing better to do with my time

As a teenager I uploaded two mashups, one of All Star and In The End, the other of All Star and Lonely Rolling Star, to YouTube because in the summer the only device I had to get online with was a Nintendo 3DS, I wanted to be able to listen to them year round, and my 3DS would not play Soundcloud uploads

I’m currently making a mashup of the Balan Wonderworld credits theme and Wonderwall

I think Pokemon peaked in Gen V and I trust Spike Chunsoft with the series more than I trust modern GameFreak

I have owned literally every Animal Crossing game except Amiibo Festival, but I do still own Amiibo from the sets released for it

I’m still waiting for Pikmin 4!

I’m still waiting for another real Chibi-Robo sequel!

I’ve still not beaten the prior games in the series despite owning them, but I’m still waiting for Bayonetta 3!

I dip dill pickle spears in chocolate pudding Snack Packs and I enjoy it

I know all the lyrics to the opening of Pichu Bros. in Party Panic, that anime special that was viewable exclusively on Pokemon Channel

I plan to romance Ann in my first playthrough of Persona 5 Royal purely for the sake of cucking the cat. I do not plan to do this because I dislike Morgana, but simply because I think it would be funny

I say KEKW, Pog, OMEGALUL, and Sadge in real life, with my actual human mouth

I have spent money on microtransactions for mobile games

I bought well over a dozen packs of the Unbroken Bonds Pokemon TCG expansion in an attempt to obtain a rainbow rare Reshiram & Charizard GX. I found zero of them

Until earlier today, when I cleaned out my drawers of old clothes I no longer wear, I owned two Big Bang Theory shirts. Instead of burning them like a reasonable person, I donated them to my local Goodwill for some other poor fool to find

At the age of 23, I still cannot swim

I’ve gotten used to every other bug in my house, including the bees in the walls and the stinkbugs who refuse to just stay outside, but whenever I see a silverfish I consider committing arson

I collect dice but do not play D&D or any other TTRPG, I just think they’re neat

I’m too physically weak to take apart a PS4 controller

I haven’t ridden a bike in a decade, and at this point if I tried I would probably fall over or ride uncontrollably into the street and be hit by a car

I still have art on my wall of a Pokemon character I made in sixth grade at the absolute latest

I buy sketchbooks despite not drawing traditionally literally ever

I cannot draw on a normal tablet, because I look at my hands instead of the screen, and so I had to buy a 2-in-1 laptop to do art

I bite my nails

I compulsively pluck the hairs from my legs

Despite compulsively plucking the hairs on my legs, I cannot be bothered to do the same for the ones that have grown into a unibrow

When I was a child a goose whacked me with its wing

I’ve been bitten by two dogs, one of which bit me twice

Despite domesticated animals hating me, I’m the world’s worst Disney Princess, having taught a grey catbird to recognize Zelda music and having watched the entirety of Avatar the Last Airbender with a baby mourning dove perched in the bush outside the window watching with me

I spell grey grey instead of gray despite being American

I’m American

I’m still on tumblr in 2021

do with this information as you will

#new ask game: send me anon hate but make it targeted

[fictionalnormalcy]

TBWASN Ch. 17

The Boy with a Strange Name

Rating: Mature (Graphic Depictions of Violence)

Fandoms: Fusion of the How to Train Your Dragon books and animated franchise

Additional Tags: jaded protagonist, modern day AU, moving somewhere new, fitting in, making friends, additional DreamWorks characters, back to hometown

Summary: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III has lived nearly seventeen years of life. In the span of those years, he’s moved twelve times. Five of those years his mother was alive. Then a tragic accident left Hiccup in the sole care of his father, Stoick Haddock. Berk was where he had been born. That much he knew.  Over every, single, move his father put him through, it wasn’t until he reached sixteen years old that Berk was the city in which the father finally decided to plant roots. At least, that was what he claimed. After years of being victimized at each school he attended, Hiccup was determined to keep a low profile at Berk High. His past is intent on preying upon him, deciding that Berk was perfect place to come back into the light. However, like all good things that came to him, there was always something to drag him back down into the pit of despair. A dormant secret, tied into his family history, was ultimately brought into the light when Hiccup settles on Berk. A secret tied with guilt and tears, and it all goes downhill from there. He discovered what his father truly did those long stretch of years, and finds he has a gift that had been nonexistent for centuries.

Ch. 17: A Sky Full of Stars

Heather trailed behind her as they walked to Mrs. Terres’ classroom. She guessed that Hiccup wasn’t one to dally and would be in the room as soon as possible. As they climbed up the stairs to get to the next floor, she felt an inkling of jealousy. The art teacher had never asked  her to stay after school, and Hiccup had only been on campus for a little more than a week. She wouldn’t deny that Hiccup’s skill was quite impressive, but she kind of wished that her skill had been noticed as well.

Of course, her jealousy was all but based on an assumption. It could have been for an entirely different matter that the art teacher had asked him to come after school. Though no other idea came to mind. The two of them approached the classroom, seeing the door closed and Hiccup standing beside it, his hair tucked into a black beanie and dark red earbuds stuffed into his ears. She could only imagine what he was listening too, but she didn’t want to interrupt. While also not wanting to startle him for coming without notice.

There were dozens of students walking the halls and he didn’t lift his head for a single one as they passed. Yet when someone bristled straight past his feet, his head lifted, looking around the hallway with apprehension clear in his green eyes. They scanned the entire hall just as Astrid sidestepped a first year to reach the door. He didn’t smile, but he did offer a nod as a sign of acknowledgement. She could feel Heather at her shoulder, and she glanced at the door, wondering why Hiccup had yet to go inside.

He pulled out an earbud. “I didn’t forget. I just, I’m waiting-”

“I remember.” She smiled. “Is Mrs. Terres not in the classroom?”

“I don’t know. The door’s locked and no one opened when I knocked.”

“She probably stepped out then.” Heather chirped from beside her.

“Hello Heather.” Hiccup let go of the ear bud to give a slight wave.

“Hey Hiccup. What were you listening to?”

He glanced at his cell phone before stuffing it into a coat pocket. He pulled out the other earbud then wrapped the cord around the back of his neck. He managed to bite his lip, his fingers giving a slight twitch.

“Clocks by Coldplay. They’re a group I tend to listen to a lot.”

“They’re originated in the UK, right?”

“Yes.”

“I rather like their stuff, though I admit I’m not a frequent listener.”

“What do you normally listen to?”

“Musical soundtracks.” She gushed. “There are so many brilliant ones out there.”

“Really?” He tilted his head. “Do you have a favorite?”

“I’m particularly fond of Dear Evan Hansen.”

Hiccup leaned away from the wall, watching the both of them. She couldn’t help but notice that once he adjusted his stance a few locks of hair came to dangle delicately above his left eye.

Keep reading

#httyd #httyd books #fanfic #my fic #tbwasn #the boy with a strange name #mature #graphic depictions of violence #modern day au #AO3 #jaded protagonist #slow burn #angst #33 chapters so far #hiccup haddock the third #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #astrid hofferson #stoick the vast #book fishlegs #fishlegs ingerman #snotlout jorgenson #tuffnut thorston #ruffnut thorston #httyd camicazi #heather the unhinged #eret son of eret #httyd dogsbreath