#i probably won’t get any responses bc i haven’t been around for so long so tumblr like
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in honor of learning recently that most of my comfort media is actually super weird according to most people i really want to know what everyone’s “odd”/“abnormal” comfort media is, if you have any!! <3333
bones and bojack horseman are mine :’)) i mean i have a ton of others but those are the two i most consistently get stunned reactions about ^^
(i’m talking more shows/movies, but really anything counts!!! video games, podcasts, whatevs)
#yes i haven’t been around in like a month#and yes this is how i’m making a comeback#i probably won’t get any responses bc i haven’t been around for so long so tumblr like#won’t show this to anybody skkk#but oh well i’m rlly curious so still worth a try#comfort media#actually adhd#actually neurodivergent#comfort character#bones tv#bojack horseman#bjhm
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hey it’s your neighbrohood (i'm not even gonna fix that i like that lol) lengthy ask anon - i am having a shit day but thinking about summer in the lighthouse au with Ava in a tank top and tool belt made me feel better so thank you for that
i have more qs kinda a lot today bc i am just so done with this day but you can pick and choose which (if any!) to answer. hope you have a good weekend ❣️
any thoughts on how Chanel meeting Bea would’ve gone?
did Bea pre-plan to tell Ava at the lookout or did she spontaneously capitalize on Ava already going there?
whose bedroom in the lighthouse house did they sleep in most often?
has Bea seen a storm from the lighthouse before?
D gave Ava new shoes, but did she ever get a new backpack?
that brief reference to Shannon broke my heart - do you have thoughts on how she passed?
do you have thoughts on how Camila and Lilith got together? and how Lilith even learned/chose to barista?
did the “DIBS” moment just come to you in a moment of inspiration or something bc it still makes me giggle just thinking about it
speaking of writing, did you write each section linearly or did you jump around or something else?
your note in the epilogue sounded like you don’t read fic when you’re writing? what's on your to read list?
HI LENGTHY ASK ANON omg, sorry for the late response, it’s been busy and i need a year-long weekend without risking going broke 😂 been itching to respond to this so imma do that now 🥹
1. probably chanel just exposing ava like “so you’re the one she’s been losing brain cells for” and ava just slapping her elbow and being all “omg shut up i trusted you” and bea not wanting ava to feel embarrassed so she’d prolly say “she also has that effect on me” then chanel would stare at them blushing and then say something like “ok that’s adorable. i need a drink and you need to tell me more”
2. she’s definitely been DYING to say it, but then when ava told her that she’s going to the lookout, bea decided to do it there just to give ava a moment she won’t forget 🥺
3. ava’s! because bea’s room is suzanne’s and the things they get up to with a bed nearby is just,,, not for suzanne’s room 😂
4. i’d say yes! though she prolly didn’t intend to. i have it in my head that she just got stranded there while cleaning it and unintentionally gave herself a come-to-jesus moment 💀
5. backpack i think she bought for herself. for some reason, i also have it in my head that she’s in a group chat with her family (salvius clan + chanel) where she asks them for their opinions and everyone choosing the more expensive option and ava being like “pls i’d have to lose a kidney” and everyone in the group chat transferring her various amounts of money and ava just staring at her account like “thank god you’re all rich. now, i’m rich by association” 😂
6. this one, nope, i haven’t actually thought about. let’s say an accident? omg what if that’s a reason why mary doesn’t ride a motorcycle anymore…? it wouldn’t have been her fault but askdnskd ok i hate me 😭
7. so this one gave me a cute scene i ended up daydreaming about 🥹 cos what if camila taught lilith how to make drinks before she got formal training for it and start a cafe? what if, while in the process of making a cappuccino, camila just randomly tells her “i like you a lot”? what if lilith fumbles and accidentally burns herself and camila just giggles and takes lilith’s hand and takes care of it, just waiting for lilith to manage words? 😭 WHAT THEN
8. i definitely planned it to be as hilarious as possible but i also didn’t think i’d be using DIBS for it. that was a fun moment to write 😂
9. my writing process is kind of a mess. i do try to write linearly so i don’t have to worry about pacing and transitions and flow. but then i’m in the middle of work or folding my laundry or literally just eating and a scene/line/whole ass paragraph just comes to me vividly 😂 this is why i have my notes app perpetually open. i write the basics of anything that comes to me and then go back and figure out a way to use it if i can. this is also why i have v many fragments that didn’t make the cut 💀
10. idk if it’s just me but i find it hard to read fic and write my own at the same time 😭 so i have,,, a long list actually. literally anything that’s been published and completed in the last 8 months i’ll be reading 😂
anon, i hope your days have been better since you sent this. you deserve the kindest, gentlest, best days 🥺💙
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Fic Writer Interview
i was tagged by the lovely @phantomhydeoftheopera! thank you fairy, i had a lot of fun thinking about these questions and trying to answer them well, as you can see by how long this post has gotten!! love yaaaaa
name/nicknames: on the internet I go by Eru, bc names are hard and this is in my handle everywhere anyway and i like it :)
fandoms: i’m currently mostly active in Guardian, DMBJ and Tolkien fandoms (and the occasional foray into the associated RPF and crossover tags on AO3), but I have also written before for the QZGS/TKA, Yin Yang Master (QYJ) and MDZS/CQL fandoms :)
two shots?: i haven’t written anything that worked in two chapters yet, if that is the question. I try to contain myself to one chapter unless the story warrants more, and if it does it has so far always been more than two.
most popular multi-chapter fic: that would be the one i wrote this year, a hand within a hand (holding light). the engagement with this fic really surprised me, bc i expected the outsider pov format and the fact that the stories are driven by and centrered around OCs to be really niche and only interesting to very few people, but i got consistently positive responses to it :)
actual worst part of writing: i don’t think there is any one part of writing that i think is the worst. every fic calls for different things and has different struggles. sometimes it’s getting started, sometimes it’s getting stuck in the middle, sometimes it’s the editing, sometimes the tagging, etc. it really depends.
how do you choose your titles: i have a folder on my phone that has pictures of poetry i come across on the internet with lines that would be good titles. when looking for one i often go through that before the final editing phase, and then fit the story around it (by adding lines or returning metaphors to integrate the title into the story if it doesn’t already fit perfectly).
otherwise i like to take my titles from returning themes in the story itself, which often develop as i write. for example when i wrote in tune i found myself constantly referencing shen wei’s power being in tune or in time or in sync with something else (his heartbeat, his breathing, the storm outside), so in tune became the title, because it also references Weilan’s love for each other, which is the core of the story.
occasionally i like to choose titles that reflect the core of the story in a more abstract way, like with Kaleidoscope (a rush of snapshots of Queer stories), and Spirometer (about breathing and/as the quantification/conceptualization of love).
do you outline?: when i do multi chapter (or 5+1 or another story format with different sections) i like to outline a little bit at least. just give myself some notes on what the chapter or section should cover for the whole to work. i do have stories that i have outlined extensively, but none of those have ever seen the light of day as of yet, i guess because it makes them too daunting.
ideas you probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice?: hah, picking up where i left off at the last question. one of those extensively plotted stories fits this question as well. I call it the Yin Yang Master Metaphorical Serpent Modern!AU (MSM!AU for short), which is basically a modern day adaptation of that movie, but centred around Killing Stone and the other shishen, working off the basic premise that the Serpent isn’t a real entity but is instead a metaphor Qingming (who in this AU is their therapist) sometimes uses to conceptualize his patients’ various mental health conditions. ...it’s a rough one. but if i could actually write it someday..... it would be the best thing i’ve ever written.
other than that: the MDZS murder mystery fic :( it’s mostly plotted but yeah... different fandoms have drawn me in since 2020....
callouts @ me: dare to write short stories without derailing them into long ones. also: sometimes a fic doesn’t have to be perfect or be a fully coherent thematic whole. not all fics need your typical “onset, catalyst, climactic catharsic scene, and extensive thematic polishing ending”-structure. sometimes you can just write a little bit about trope bc it’s fun, and it doesn’t have to mean shit.
best writing traits: i think i do really well at setting the mood for scenes, and developing themes and rounding them off. i’m very much a writer whose every choice of word and metaphor and descriptor tends to have a reason. if i mention a painting on a wall in scene 2, then you can be sure it will return somewhere, or i wouldn’t have mentioned it. i’m good at not leaving too many loose ends.
spicy tangential opinion: is “there is nothing inherently (or, god forbid, morally) wrong with writing or reading RPF” a spicy opinion? bc then that. the problem with RPF fandoms is that alongside the normal people, there are too many people in them who have trouble differentiating the relationships they read and write about from the real actual people they are based on, and then try to carry the attitude they put into the writing of RPF on into their real life interactions with other people.
that is bad, but there is nothing wrong with writing RPF itself, as long as you keep it within fandom circles, in a closed-off and easily filtered space (such as AO3), and are able to acknowledge the fact that the people you write in your stories are merely characters you have created and are not a reflection of reality. we are authors, not omniscient creator-gods. also, these people’s actual private life is none of our fucking business and they owe us nothing.
that became a bit of a rant, and this whole thing became quite long. sorry about that xD
tagging: @lucientelrunya @programmedradly @deathofsanity @shadaras @lunarriviera @sharkbeneaththelotus @omaenanimonoda @lynne-monstr @thedaughterofshadows @aredhel-of-doylkien @onmyo-jin if you want to :)
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attachment: 1 image
— jjk x (f) reader
summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.
warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true,
rating; mature (18+)
misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v
wc; 4.6k
notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩❤️💋👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩
You’re at work when it happens.
It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.
You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.
You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.
You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.
But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.
It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.
“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.
There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.
But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.
you what’s this about?
You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—
As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.
jungkook♡ what time u get off?
jungkook♡ miss you bad baby
Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.
You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.
you 4pm :(
Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.
jungkook♡ fuck
jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing
jungkook♡ please ?
You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.
you seamless black thong
you the one you bought me at the last vs sale
Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.
jungkook♡ mm
jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?
You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.
Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.
jungkook♡ u soaked those
jungkook♡ came fast that day
jungkook♡ want u so bad
Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.
you mm
you makin me wet bunny
It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.
When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.
It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.
You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.
Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.
Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.
jungkook♡ im so fckin hard
jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby
jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??
Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.
It doesn’t help.
Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.
you after work
you promise
Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.
Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.
The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.
A pleasant surprise awaits.
It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.
But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.
jungkook♡ ???
jungkook♡ ????what is that
jungkook♡ baby please
jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??
jungkook♡
Missed Call (4)
jungkook♡ baby
jungkook♡ what does it mean
jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane
jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice
jungkook♡ fuck please just
And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.
You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.
Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.
But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.
Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.
But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.
He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.
“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.
“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.
Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.
“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.
“Uh huh,” he says.
The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”
He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”
Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.
But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.
The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”
You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”
He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”
You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”
“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”
A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”
Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”
Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”
“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”
He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”
Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”
“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.
Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”
You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.
“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”
The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”
Admittedly, no.
Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.
So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.
“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.
Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”
A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.
“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.
“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.
“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.
You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.
He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.
When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.
“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.
Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”
You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.
Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.
you shift ends in 20
jungkook♡ sweet
jungkook♡ got your seat ready
jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image
Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
#networkbangtan#bangtanhq#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jjk smut#jeongguk smut#jjk♡#jeon jeongguk smut#jungkook x reader smut#jeon jungkook x reader#bts smut#bts jungkook#mine
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ON FEYSAND’S PLOTLINE IN ACOSF
!!!!MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE ACOSF!!!!
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Let’s be honest for a while, okay?
ACOCF had potential to be SJM’s best book, if not for any other reason then because of the sheer idea of it. Coming-of-age, healing story of the most complex and polarizing character she has ever created set in the time of peace, away from the familiar setting (according to the later changed concept which still remains in the snippet at the end of ACOFAS), development of her arguably most feisty and angsty love story... It could be her absolute trumph. Even with the change to stick to Velaris instead of exploring the Illyrian culture of the Mountains and with the added conflict of the Mortal Queens and Koshei, it still could work quite well.
It didn’t. For many, many reasons, but the most important one, in my opinion, being the feysand pregnancy plot.
Nothing about this plotline made sense. Not a single thing. From start to finish, it was an absolute disaster from the character-writing POV, from the narration POV, from every single context of it. It broke the rules of real-life logic, it broke the rules of this fantasy world setting and it completely exposed that Rhysand, while not a bad guy, is a pretty terrible partner, even worse ruler and an absolutely terrible contender for the High King title.
Let’s break this whole mess down (and expect this post to be mammoth-sized. it’s not my fault, though, write to SJM if you have any complains):
1) Feyre, 21, decides to get pregnant, even though less than a year earlier, she expresses the delight with not being forced to bear children to her new mate and told him herself she wants to wait a while and enjoy her life with him. Feyre decides she wants a baby though and Rhysand goes along with it, even though he is aware how young Feyre is and how hard her life has been up until this point. He wants a baby too much to have an honest discussion with Feyre about it, to stop and wonder what is the reason for her sudden change of heart, to reassure her that they have a lot of time ahead of them and don’t need to rush. No. She mades a sudden decision to have a baby after A YEAR OF MARRIAGE and not much more of being turned fae, JUST AFTER having her whole world put upside down, having received a completely new title and responsibilities, surviving the wat and being mated. Great.
2) Feyre decides to get pregnant and Rhys goes along with it less than a year after the end of the bloody war. It is politically a delicate time, everyone is still not sure how the balance will shift, some countries don;t want to sign the peace treaty, etc. There are a lot of enemies and a lot of turmoil remaining. But sure. Let’s have a baby. Perfect time to add yet another target, another weakness that can be use by the Mortal Queens, Beron or whatever else with malicious intent towards the Night Court.
2) Feyre gets pregnant after approximately a year of trying. I know healthy people of reproductive age for whom it takes ages more than this. Fae’s pregnancies are rare af and precious and happen once in a blue moon, but ofc SJM broke the world’s rules for her darling Feyre. And again, for Kallas and Vivianne who are also expecting the baby, even though it has been a maximum of 3 years since they’ve mated. 3 years is also not a particularly long time to try to have a baby for those who have issues with their reproductive systems like Fae women. Thank you, next.
3) Rhys has unprotected sex with Feyre in her Illyrian form when she conceives, even though he knows full well having a winged baby would kill her. He does it anyway, for shits and giggles apparently. They probably have sex in the sky above Velaris, for all we know.
4) The baby has wings. Now, the whole explanation with Illyrian wings being bony (bc they resemble bat wings) and Seraphin ones being more flexible (bc they resemble bird ones) is so insanely stupid that it takes around 3 seconds to wikipedia this shit and find out it’s exactly the opposite. But okay, the baby has wings and Feyre will die while giving birth, along with the baby. Madja forbids Feyre from turning into an Illyrian to carry the pregnancy because it MIGHT hurt the baby. Now, remember, Feyre conceived while in Illyrian form and then turned into High Fae. The baby survived it just fine. The baby MIGHT be hurt by Feyre turning .... but it will FOR SURE die if she stays High Fae and Feyre will too. Idk about you, but I would take the risk of MIGHT instead of FOR SURE. Especially when she is already in labour and dying. Cauldron or Nesta or idk who alters Feyre’s pelvis after the baby is cut out of her for no apparent reason but to allow feysand to make exactly the same mistakes later on. How convinient. And Nesta also alters her own pelvis bc god forbid she won’t be able give Cassian babies like the little useful mate she is now. She should’ve probably done it with Elain too, just in case she decides to fuck Az in the future, because fuck consequences and fuck the stakes in the story that make the readers actually CARE about characters bc they know the author may actually kill them and not save their life every fucking time.
5) I don’t even want to comment on the fact Rhys hid the true danger of this pregnancy for Feyre and their family went along with it. It is absolutely disgusting. And Nesta telling her and that being condemned as the act of the ultimate cruelty which is a final straw to break her self-loathing back.... is abhorrent. It made my sick, actually, phisically sick. There is no justification for it. No at all. And the fact that they did not even consider abortion sends a message that I really don’t want to think too much about it. Feyre was 2 months along when they learned the baby is winged. 2 months. 8 weeks. It wasn’t a baby yet, let’s be honest. They could’ve at least discussed it. She - oh my god, I cannot believe SJM wrote it this way, I’m gonna be sick.
6) For the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, they have no plan to really help her. Labour plan? Haven’t heard if it. They have money and power and access to the healers of the whole land. And did not figure out how to stop her from bleeding out after a fucking C-section. THIS WORLD HAS MAGIC AND THEY COULDN’T STOP HER FROM BLEEDING OUT AFTER A FUCKING C-SECTION. Didn’t even ask Thesan, the High Lord of Healing, to be present. Cassian had guts hanging out of his stomach and survived. Az was fucking slashed apart in Hybern and survived. But yeah, Feyre was on a brink of death after a C-section. Great, Sarah. Keep it up. Let’s force the thought into young girls’ heads that labour is the most lethal thing ever, why not.
7) Also, for the entirety of Feyre’s pregnancy, Rhys keeps quiet about this idiotic bargain. He, as far as we know, doesn’t make any plans for the moment when him and Feyre and possibly their baby are dead. If they died and baby survived.. who would take care of it? Does Rhys have a conversation with his family about it? NAH. Doesn’t write any sort of plan how to keep the Court going, doesn’t inform even the closest of his co-workers how they should proceed to act after he’s gone and his and Feyre’s power go to god-knows-who. Their deaths would mean a sure chaos for the weakend and fragile Prythian and the Night Court especially and yet nor Rhys nor Feyre make any sort of preparations for it. Rhys doesn’t tell his brothers or Mor or HIS SECOND IN COMMAND they will all soon have to somehow manage without him. He was about to just leave them to their own devices and told them in the last. possible. moment.
And this man - this man is, according to Amren, the best candidate to handle the whole country? To unite it? This fool who makes idiotic bargains, who thinks first about his cock and his own selfish desires and considers his subjects and his responsibilities as a High Lord last and least important of all? Who has so much trust in his wife, in his High Lady, the mother of his son that he doesn’t tell her she will almost surely die on a birthing bed because it MAY UPSET HER?
This plotline was the straw that broke my back. ACOTAR, at it’s heart has always been a ya fantasy with added ‘spice’ and I was willing to bend my critical-thinking skills in many cases and forget and forgive many smaller idiotic issues in this series. But this? It is not idiotic. It is massive and stupid to the point when it becomes insulting to the reader. It was a plot straight out of a bad fanfic, not something that should be in a published book written by someone who writes for a living. You could even argue that Twilight has handled this toxic trope better. I have wasted my money on this book and thinking about it will always be painful for me. So yeah.
ACOSF could be great. Ended up quite pathetic.
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the romance checklist:
summary: a chance meeting with kageyama has you striking up a bet to see if one of you could fall in love with the other before the year was up. cue the romance checklist, a piece of paper that molded your fate and his.
pairing: kageyama tobio x g!n reader
word count: 3.2k
genres + themes: literally pure fluff, reader is a first-year karasuno student, reader is also kind of a romantic
warnings: none
a/n: so this is my first time writing for kageyama and i know he's probably pretty out of character, so my apologies!! this was inspired off some headcannons i wrote for one of my irl friends, and this wiki-how article which i used to structure the actual checklist! to all my lovely kags simps, this is for you <3 (also to all the people who hate angst, you lucked out bc i was about to add an angst part but got lazy)
You had never thought a trip to the vending machine could be so eventful.
It had been lunch break, and you found yourself wandering towards the machine, money in hand as your eyes trailed the snacks. It had become routine to sneak away during lunch hours for this, enjoying the fresh autumn breeze as you bought your snacks. It had always given you time to think and the time to recompose yourself when you didn’t have a clue what to do.
Usually it also provided you with time alone.
That wasn’t the case today though. Standing in front of the vending machines was Kageyama Tobio, frantically pushing the button for milk with a grumpy sort of scowl on his face. From the distance you stood, you could make out his height and the way he tapped his foot continuously, as if he didn’t have the time to wait for the milk to be dispensed from the spot.
Strolling up to the spot, you stood silently next to him, watching the way he retrieved the milk from the slot wordlessly as he walked away, not even a glance in your direction.
You knew full well who he was. In fact, you could barely walk through the halls of school without hearing a murmur about the prodigy setter and his closed off ways. The girls found him intriguing from afar, and while they never dared to approach him, they all wanted to.
You hadn’t really understood what they saw in him. He was average...if not below that in academics, and he seemed to dedicate most of his time to volleyball, not caring much for other people. He didn’t seem to have many friends, and was almost always grumpy.
All of this should’ve been reason enough to avoid him, and yet you couldn’t help but be intrigued. There was something about him that was different. You just needed to find out what that was.
The next day came around, and sure enough, he stood at the machine again, toe-tapping as his milk was dispensed from the slot. This time his eyes scanned the courtyard as if he was seeking something before they finally landed on you.
You weren’t prepared for the full impact of his gaze. It was calculated and pointed, with some sort of intent that was expressed in every inch of those dark blue eyes. You weren’t put off by it.
In fact, it was charming in its own way.
“Are you looking for something Kageyama?” You asked as you walked towards him, pulling a few yen out of your pocket. “You’re staring.”
“I’m not.” He deadpanned, his eyes still trained on you as you selected a snack from the machine’s buttons. “I see you everywhere. Who are you?”
You hadn’t expected that. You knew he was observant...when it came to volleyball specifically, but never realized how it translated anywhere else. “I’m Y/L/N Y/N.”
You weren’t sure what else to say to him. Gently grabbing your snack, you politely nodded at him before leaving him behind, the thoughts rapidly accumulating in your brain. Did he notice you the entire time? Why did he ask? Did he know something? Was he planning to use you as some example to the other girls who wanted to know him?
You wish you had an answer.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t think of any.
It had been two weeks since you had met Kageyama by the vending machines. It had now become routine to expect him there during your lunch breaks, milk box in hand as he regarded your very presence with something that felt a whole lot like curiosity. Every now and then he’d offer commentary on the mundane happenings of Karasuno, or ask about you, but you weren’t sure how you could hold a conversation with just these things.
“Kageyama.” You nodded, strolling towards the machine as you always did. He whipped around almost immediately, offering a solemn nod in return, clutching his milk box.
“Y/L/N.” He murmured, taking a sip of his box.
“Have you ever thought about love?” You found yourself asking, internally screaming at the word choice. Great, now he was going to think that you were some crazy person.
“I think so…?.” Was what he offered in response. His features seemed to soften at this question though as he scrunched his brows in thought. “What type of love?”
You raised a brow at him in question. “Kageyama...what type of love are you talking about?”
“Well...I love volleyball and milk.” He shrugged. “That counts.”
“That...wasn’t the type I was referring to.” You said, suppressing the laughter that bubbled into your chest. “I was talking about the other kind.”
“The other kind is stupid.” Kageyama replied instantaneously. “There’s nothing special to it.”
You felt confusion seep into your system before you quieted it, letting your mind wander. With Kageyama’s status, you assumed that he’d at least thought of the concept at least once, although it seemed that he’d never even pondered the idea altogether!
“You’d have to feel it to come to that conclusion,” you countered, “Have you?”
“No,” he scoffed, “It’s still stupid.”
“Why?” You asked, feeling the curiosity surface. “Any specific reason?”
“Why would anyone want to dedicate all their time to another person?” Kageyama asked straight back, his gaze unwavering. “I just don’t see the point.”
You stared back at him, feeling the challenge bubble in your veins. “I bet...I can make you fall in love with someone by the end of the school year.”
At that moment, the boy in front of you looked thoroughly surprised, throwing his empty milk box at the garbage can nearby. He seemed speechless to some extent, as if he wasn’t able to process the words that had just left your mouth.
“And what happens if you can’t?” He asked, hesitantly bringing his gaze to your face. “What then?”
“I’ll buy you milk for a whole month.” You placed your hands on your hip as you kept your glare firm. “I stick to that.”
“Okay then,” he sighed, “Game on.”
With a shake of your hands, you cemented your fate.
You would win that bet. That much was certain.
“What’s this Y/L/N?” Kageyama asked, pointing at the piece of paper you held at him. “How are you going to win a bet with this?”
The two of them stood in the courtyard of Karasuno, the fresh autumn breeze rippling the paper you held in your hand. It had been a good day so far, and Kageyama had surprisingly stuck to his resolve, meeting you at the vending machine when he could’ve easily avoided you.
It was always more fun to challenge a competent opponent.
“This is the romance checklist.” You grinned proudly. “This has all the things we need to get you to fall in love.”
“How is it fair if you don’t do the checklist’s things too?”
“Well, that’s why I’m doing them with you.” You responded, already anticipating these types of questions. “I drafted the checklist off of the things I’ve observed over the years that should totally lead to feelings of love!”
“Whatever.” Kageyama said, his blue eyes scanning the paper’s contents. “How do you plan to do this?”
“We follow the steps.” You nodded. “Since I’m doing this with you, it’ll be foolproof.”
“Y/L/N...what if we competed against each other?” He mumbled. “We follow the checklist and use it against each other. Whoever falls in love first loses.”
“Do you really want to risk that?” You smirked, “That’s a bold move you’re making.”
Kageyama stood up straighter at this, the challenge burning deep in his eyes. “I’m going to win, so it won’t be an issue.”
“Suit yourself,” you grinned. “I’ll be winning this anyways.”
He simply smirked as he looked down at the paper, the promise of a challenge fresh and bright between them.
STEP ONE: MEET SOMEONE
After a long time, you had finally gotten some free time away from schoolwork and the obligations that pinned you down. It was a rare occurrence with the amount of pressure that the college prep class placed on you, and you intended to make the most of it.
You found yourself on the pathway of a cafe you used to frequent in the summer with your friends. It had always been a place to collect your thoughts and let your worries float away with every sip of one of the immaculately crafted beverages that they offered there. You felt your lips twitch in an involuntary smile at the memories.
“Y/L/N?” You heard a voice call out, a shocking contrast to the normal chattering you heard within the shop. Looking up, you were met with Kageyama’s eyes, narrowed and confused as you sat at the table frozen. “What are you here for?”
“It's a break for me,” you shrugged, “I come here all the time. I haven’t seen you here before.”
“They have good drinks,” Kageyama replied bluntly. A few beats of silence passed between them, with neither of them knowing what to add to the conversation.
“You can sit down with me.” You offered, gesturing to the empty seat across from you. “The more the merrier.”
He didn’t question this as he slid into the seat, fingers drumming on the table as he looked at the window. From your point of view, it was almost picturesque the way he managed to appear. His blue eyes were focused on the trees outside, and his posture was ever so casual and relaxed as he sat there, as if he had no other care in the world.
It was unfair how model-like he managed to appear, even despite the fact he wasn’t trying.
Ah. Perhaps this is what the girls at school noticed.
Once the drinks arrived at your table, the two of them drank in comfortable silence, admiring the flavors on their tongues as their surroundings continued on as normal. You didn’t feel the need to contribute anything to the silence, finding it calming in its own right.
“So Kageyama, are you feeling anything yet?” You teased, setting down your half-empty cup.
“No.” He admitted, setting down his drink as well. “I am supposed to?”
“Well technically no, but it’d be good if you did.” You chuckled, finding amusement in the cluelessness of his ways. “Step one of the romance checklist: meet somebody.”
“We already met though.” He countered, “How does this count as anything?”
“Well, we just encountered each other out of nowhere.” You smiled, “That counts as a meeting in my book.”
He wrapped his mind around this information, nodding solemnly. “I guess so then. I still don’t feel anything.”
“Neither do I.” You said, willing the slight butterflies in your stomach to subside. It was really nothing. This was simply a chance meeting, nothing more than luck and fate that had you encounter each other today of all days.
You shouldn’t have been affected this quickly. You felt far too warm, far too...fuzzy, for a meeting of chance. It was simply far too intimate.
Well, it seemed that Kageyama had gotten the one upon you at this stage.
You’d beat him next time. You knew you would.
STEP TWO: FLIRT
“You look good today Kags,” you smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction creep up in your veins at his flushed cheeks,
Over the course of the weeks spent together, you had been able to learn more about the mysterious boy in front of you and had even formed a friendship of sorts. For starters, he was flustered very easily, which is why you decided to make your move so early in the morning.
“I look like how I do every day, dumbass!” He growled, the red deepening in his cheeks when you merely winked in response.
Ah yes. He tended to insult those he befriended. That was yet another endearing thing about the boy in front of you.
“No, something is different today,” you commented, “Did you do something with your hair?”
“No,” he frowned, the flush never subsiding from his cheeks. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“I’m just saying genuine things you know.” You laughed, punching his shoulder casually. “Besides, I think I’m succeeding so far.”
“Succeeding? This is that stupid checklist again, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Step two: flirting. What is the point of this again?”
“It’s to show interest.” You remarked. “Besides, if you want me to fall for you, you’re going to at least have to act like you’re interested in me. I know it’s working on you so far.”
“No it’s not!” He yelled, although the defense was half-hearted. You knew he was merely putting up a front. You could tell it from his body posture alone.
You had the upper hand right now.
You waved him goodbye as you entered the Karasuno grounds, climbing the stairs to reach your class as he walked in the opposite direction. Even if you had the upper hand right now, you knew that you had to be on-guard the rest of the day.
If there was one thing you knew very well in the time you had spent with Kageyama, it was that he was extremely competitive. There was no way he’d ever go down without a fierce fight, especially when a month’s worth of milk was on the line.
You had been absolutely right to doubt him.
When lunchtime rolled around, he stood at the vending machine like he always did, leaning against it casually as he waited for you, his focus placed on the entrance.
The first thing you noticed was how calm he was. There was none of his usual frantic energy or the practiced insults that you threw back at one another. He simply stood there, content, as he watched you make your entrance.
The second thing you noticed was how an unconscious smile crept onto his face when you waved at him and slipped away the minute your eyes darted to his mouth. He sipped his milk casually, although you knew that internally, he was definitely scheming.
He could be a gremlin if left untapped.
You were about to purchase your snack in silence, thinking about all the ways he could win against you when you felt his hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw him holding out a container of your favorite snack, handing it to you wordlessly.
What?
“I thought I would get it today,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his milk. “You’ve bought me milk sometimes. It’s only fair.”
He didn’t consider it much of a big deal, but you felt your heart begin to accelerate in its pace at the thoughts that came flying into your head.
He had paid attention to your favorite snack? He had actually cared about when you bought him milk?
He noticed all of this?
“You...have a nice smile.” He mumbled, a flush rising onto his cheeks once again. You felt yourself fluster a bit at the compliment, not used to hearing it that often.
“Uhhh thanks.” You exhaled, not knowing how to respond to such an out-of-the-blue remark. “Your smile looks a lot like the Cheshire cat you know.”
For a moment his face was contorted into an expression of horror before he laughed a bit, the low chuckles sending heat straight to your cheeks.
Damn it. His laugh was adorable.
It was a low chiming sound, but it still managed to uplift your spirits in the brief time that you heard it. It was absolutely perfect.
You’d like to hear it again if you could.
A small smile was on his face as he looked to the ground, thinking about something while you took the time to really look at him. Behind the stone exterior, was someone talented, clueless, and amusing in every way you could possibly imagine.
You noticed how his posture mirrored yours, and the way how he smiled when your eyes finally met his own.
Damn it! He got the one-up on you. Again.
STEP THREE: GO ON THRILLING DATES
“Tobio! Let’s go on this one!” You yelled as you dragged him towards the large rollercoaster that caught your eye.
It was a beautiful Saturday with the most perfect weather. Sunny skies met a fresh breeze as you dragged Kageyama around the amusement park you had insisted on going to together. He kept with your quick pace as you went from ride to ride, never once letting go of his hand.
If anything, you were more confused why he didn’t comment on the fact that you had been holding hands that long. Rather he silently followed you from ride to ride, occasionally commenting on how small it looked for them.
From where you stood, the rollercoaster looked positively incredible with the multiple loops and drops in its track. This certainly fit the bill for thrilling. Maybe Kageyama could finally agree to ride this one.
“Y/N, do we really have to do this one?” He asked, his gaze not tearing away from the ride. “Doesn’t it look a bit too small for us?”
“Well if it’s too small, then we can still ride it as a joyride, don’t you think?” You grinned as you shoved him into the line of the coaster. Soon enough, it was your turn as you were ushered into the seats while the employees strapped you and Kageyama into the rollercoaster.
The wait was excruciating, with every second that passed sending a wave of anticipation and adrenaline through your system. Looking to your side, you saw Kageyama’s face, which was composed, even though his fingers drummed rapidly on the bar.
Was he nervous?
Hesitantly, you reached to clasp your hands together, relishing in the feeling of your palm on his as the rollercoaster suddenly began moving, bringing you up the tall lift hill.
“Tobio, are you okay?” You questioned as you neared the top, the grip he had on your hand tightening ever so slightly.
“I’m fine!” He yelled, just as the roller coaster fell over the lift hill, sending them into a plummeting drop.
You felt the exhilarating feeling of soaring as the ride propelled you forward, shouts of glee leaving your mouth ever so often. On the other hand, all you heard from Kageyama was the occasional shout of horror when they encountered yet another drop on the track, the grip he had on your hand deathly tight.
“Tobio! You’re afraid of rollercoasters?!” You shouted as you were guided into a loop.
“No I’m not!” He shouted back, shutting his eyes when he was finally upright again. “They just make me feel like I’m about to die!” When he opened his eyes, they first found yours in a look that was both petrified and fond. “I think I lost the bet!”
“You did what?!” You yelled as the wind rippled in your ears again.
“The bet Y/N! I think I’m in love with you!” He yelled. “I thought I should tell you before we die!”
You felt your heart soar at the words that had just been exchanged, a testament to the budding feelings you had felt for months around him.
“We’re not going to die.” You sighed as the ride finally slowed, feeling exhilarated as you smiled at him. “I love you too.”
Stepping off the rollercoaster, Kageyama was more silent than anything, red flush adorning his cheeks as you massaged soothing circles onto his hand. “We both lost it in the end.” You laughed.
“I think it was worth it,” he chuckled, the beautiful chime, showing you that he meant every word.
©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited
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reblogs are very appreciated <3
#nova scribbles <3#kageyama x reader#hq kageyama#hihqnetwork#kageyama fluff#tobio headcanons#tobio scenarios#kegayama tobio#tobio x reader#tobio x y/n#kageyama x y/n#reader x haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#haikyu imagines#haikyuu#tobio fluff
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Hey, you can ignore this if you want. But, just a thought, hybrid Izuku? Like maybe he has a kinda bad past too, just because I live for the angst beginning to fluffy end.
Sorry it took me a couple of days to answer! I wanted to switch it up and I mainly had to think a way to make Izu work as a hybrid, so I decided to make him be a bunny hybrid [ blame his cute hero costume, srsly ] I ended up writing the small amount of 3.7k words somehow— [ listen, i get emotionally involved, ok??? 😭 ] I genuinely hope you like it! 💕
[ Masterlist ]
Hybrid!AU Bunny!Midoriya Izuku
× you looked at the man sitting in the corner of the cell, both petrified staring at each other
× his bunny ears were lowered, his green eyes widened in your direction
× all you could do was to stand still, shocked and without being able to even mask it
× he looked awful to say at least
× meanwhile the reception guy that accompanied you for a tour of the shelter whispered in your direction; "This one is in really bad shape. Very traumatized, poor soul..." he clicked his tongue before continuing "He's been sent here from another shelter cities away, I don't know much about him and he won't talk."
× you could not look away even if you tried
× the reason why you decided to pass by the shelter was because you offered to help voluntarily in the weekends as you had some free time
× you did read and hear horror stories about the shelters and the hybrids thrown in them, how underfunded they were, how bad the conditions there were and how little help they had but—
× even if you came prepared for the worst you got surprised with the state some of the hybrids were in
× specially this one; his name was on a plaque by his prison like cell— Midoriya Izuku
× he had bruises, cuts, his hands looked specially beaten up and scarred, his behavior was erratic, nervous, just a disaster...
× something deep inside told you to smile and show him you're no threat, so you did
× you introduced yourself and nodded your head, really trying to keep a calm composture but your heart hurt seeing him like that
× much to your surprise, he nodded back, still uncertain but didn't move from his place, far back in the cell
× you've been gently pushed away to continue the tour and to establish your tasks, all while being thanked for your kindness; you didn't know why you felt like throwing up at the indifference in the man's voice...
× there weren't many hybrids in the shelter anyway, yet you've gotten your scheduled hours in which you'd help clean and cook and as you left for the day after some introduction to those tasks; your mind still lingered on Midoriya Izuku even through the night, as his terrified eyes stole the sleep from you that same night
× the following two days you began your volunteering hours and always kept an eye for the hybrid; he was skittish and asocial even at lunch and dinner times, did not talk to any other hybrid and specially not to any worker there
× he caught your eyes multiple times whenever you'd be in his general proximity, yet you'd see him scurrying away instantly, which made you feel unease; you weren't any threat, really, so maybe with time...
× it's when you brought your own cleaning supplies [ because there were little to none ] and decided to help clean their "rooms", so called by the staff, when you firstly got to talk to him
× you reached his cell and he was reading an old book, probably borrowed from the small library they had; he snapped his eyes up when he heard you approach
× "Hello, Midoriya" you'd say gently, heart in your throat, really scared you'd frighten him
× he just nodded and looked away, not before giving your cleaning supplies a long look, knowing what's to come
× with his permission, he let you go inside as you started preparing everything to swipe the floors, putting the broom in a corner as you leaned down to pick some other stuff; what you didn't notice was how the broom was gently falling, almost about to hit you on the head
× the green-haired hybrid was on your side instantly, catching it; it would've been a small tap on your head and most out of the situation would've been you looking ridiculous but you chuckled at the scene and thanked him wholeheartedly
× smol bean blushed so hard you almost dropped everything in your hands at the sight; "N-no problem—" he stuttered, his voice sweet and shy 🥺
× he stood there fidgeting with the book in his hands watching you move around until you heard an unsure "Can I help you?" 🥺🥺
× you told him sure, if he'd like to, mainly worried he really didn't want you in his "territory" but the man took it as an invitation and—
× it didn't stop at his cell? he helped you all day???? you cleaned around together but not without an awkward air around both; which ngl it's funny bc he's staring whenever you talk to everyone, clean, help, so on; big round eyes are always on you;;; IF YOU LOOK THO, oops— "what an interesting wall right there!" - Midoriya, probably.
× it's from then that you notice a switch; whenever you're at the canteen, he's there offering to help, looking just as skittish as always but a small blush always on his face
× whenever you'd be playing with the younger hybrids he'd watch in awe bc you treat them so well
× exactly when he actually starts talking to you more too! he's in the impromptu playground with you and the few little ones when he suddently drops your name in a stutter and says you're kind-hearted
× you almost drop dead in the spot bc his look, man; you haven't seen him so sure of something until now and it did something to you
× it's been a month and hybrids came and got adopted, yet your new friend wasn't really getting any attention; he really acted terrified and you of course questioned his behavior; you knew nothing of his past but seeing the way he acted it could've been just awful
× as you started to slowly engage in larger conversations with Izuku, it's at the canteen that this time you've been caught staring; at his hands in particular
× he was helping you cook, which he really didn't know how to do but tried nonetheless just because he really enjoyed being around you [ or so you assumed, hopeful ]
× when he realizes where you're looking at, you almost dreaded him retracting from the situation like he used to do but he just looks down at them too and sighs
× "I was at a fighting ring—" he said, pursing his lips "—but I'm a rabbit hybrid... a prey... they used me as a punching bag."
× your heart rips in two as you're speechless; even if you tried to be careful with your movements not to spook the man, you could not help yourself by putting your hand on his
× and that's how Midoriya Izuku died, end of HCs 💀
× just kidding; he almost fainted, face fully red as his ears perked up, staring at you with big eyes yet did not move an inch
× and even if his face would've been adorable in any other situation, his words remained imprinted in your mind as you squeezed his hand in yours
× "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Izuku" you whispered back at him; he just nodded and blabbered something before continuing with the task clumsily
× boy is broken for the rest of the day, that's what I'm implying
× bad news got to you when you found out you couldn't go to the shelter anymore to help; your hours got increased at work and your shift was all over the place and even if you really did talk with your boss, it was decided that for now you had to adapt
× dread filled your gut when you realized you couldn't see Izuku anymore and with that you noticed how fond you grew of him, that's why you loathed the next visit there
× but— you really wanted to see him more; getting to spend time with him and helping around was what got you through the week...
× you told him slowly that same Saturday and it visibly broke him
× he tears up and tries to mask it as best as he can, yet he nods understanding
× "Will— Will I ever see you again?" the soft tremble in his voice shook you to the core
× "Of course. Every day, if you'd like." you blurted;;;;; he blinks at you, tears stopping just to have his head tilted to the side, ears flopping with the movement. "Would you like to come home with me?" you say, idea just popping in your head and balling it;
× he cries harder then he nods
× everything about your volunteering ceasing for the time was already filled in, you guys just needed to fill some paperwork for him, grab his little to no belongings and get the hell out
× small gym-bag in hand, i sweat to god, this man is overwhelmed with being outside
× stays glued to your side all the time, specially on busy streets towards your home
× once you feel him grab on your shirt just for precaution and you melt?? but let him have it
× once you arrived, you see tension leave his body as he smells his surroundings; mf drops a "It smells like you here" through a smile before realizing what he said and getting all flustered 💀
× sooo you move past that as you can and show him around, a spare bedroom not long ago used by your old roommate offered to him
× you only see his surprisingly muscled back as he enters the room and drops the gym-bag on the floor
× he slowly turns around to look at your face and fat ass tears run down his cheeks, not being able to say a word even if he tried
× hands-down the scene almost gives you a panic attack; he then asks if it's all for him and you assure him that indeed it is when he cries harder...
× ok, that again shreds your heart but it wouldn't be the last time
× like for example the moment of utter disbelief he threw at you when you asked him what he wanted to eat that night and he didn't know how to respond because nobody, ever, asked him; you got that as a response after asking if you said something wrong
× or the following Monday, when you suggested you went to do some shopping for him in the morning, since there wouldn't be many people and it would be calmer
× the look of awe in his face, istg...
× from then on he opens up pretty nicely too; it's such a refreshing sight to see him tell you about how he learned to use the computer, TV, phone— the sparks in his eyes whenever he talks of something new he learned? imagine it and now you've gained 20 more years of lifespan, you're very welcome
× such a soft cutie, i swear 🥺 always asks things about you and gives you the same sparkly eyes when he learns more about you
× it does take him some time to come out if his shell though
× you fastly realize he's a nerd; oops, but it's true, and definitely isn't a bad thing! he just really likes to learn about everything and anything and I feel he genuinely likes to tell you about those new facts
× i hope you like them bc when he learned new cool stuff he made a note to tell you about them bc he thought you'd find them cool too and—
× is very tidy and helps around the house, but when it comes to being social he just freezes
× you ask him if he'd like to go for walks and you see him itching to go out for some fresh air, although the thought of other people...
× with time and small walks around the neighborhood, he overcomes the fear as long as you're by his side
× will definitely want to go back to the shelter to volunteer even if you can't, but the fear of walking there just overtakes him again since he'd have to do it alone
× mentions it though
× his expression is so uneasy bc he feels like a burden
× maybe you could work around your schedule to take him there and pick him up? he genuinely loved giving a hand at the shelter so if you do, Izu would be so thankful
× in a few weeks he'd gain the confidence to walk alone
× one 💕adorable💕 thing he does without even thinking is jumping around you, or just in place
× "Today little Miya got adopted!" he'd say, hopping slightly in place "I could tell they were good people too! They had good intentions... just like when I saw you for the first tim—"
× so he mumbles without thinking;; and sometimes blurts out cute stuff like that but when he realizes what he's saying he gets very shy 🤭
× he has this fluff smol tail but we don't talk about it;;; no, no, it's too much for us, I promise you it's the cutest fucking thing you've seen in your whole existence and it moves a little bit and we all die here???? he hides it though, pft
× so fluffy we gonna dieeeee
× he steals your blankets
× hear me out, omg! he does!! if you have small blankets you just throw over yourself to stay on the couch or anything, sometimes they'd dissappear only to be found in his room; he's very sneaky about it but cracks under [the zero] pressure you put on him, leading him to say "It's because whenever you're not around, I like to have something close to me that smells like yOu! it makes me feel sAfe—" his voice cracks "BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO, I'LL STOP, I JUST—" he'd placate his hands instantly, apologizing
× tell him it's okay and now your hoodies are gone too lmfao
× he's a muscular guy too so consider buying really big ones just for him to wear;;; after you wore them;;;;;;
× says sorry a lot and that's a thing you have to work with a lot
× if he messes up something, he will apologize instantly; if you tell him to stop bc you don't mind he forgot to put the washing machine as he promised he will act like he's the worst
× as if he feared you'd get angry...
× i know it's a recurring topic but give him time
× whenever you both have free time and hang around the house, he'll be on the couch reading near you
× eyes you constantly and he's so obvious about it it's ridiculous; you can see him from the corner of your vision when he turns his head to check on you so through a smile you have to ask him if he needs anything
× what's fantastic is that he's getting over the point of being scared to speak out around you YET he stutters, blushing
× "N-no, nothing!" but he's observing your comfortable form with much interest
× "Wanna... cuddle with me?" [ 's not like you read about bunny hybrids and how they need skin contact which definitely didn't make you uwu and die in the spot bc that's so 🤧💕😭💘🥺 but you waited for him to show any signs that he'd want that; we're respectful like that, mhm ]
× his fluffy ear twitches
× shock, disbelief, blush
× it twitches again
× blushes harder then nods
× sksjdkdjd he's by your side instantly though with no idea of what to do
× good lord, he's so stiff; why don't you grab a blanket to throw it over both of you, hmm?
× he'd bury himself into it then into your arms and soon he'll find out being there is his favorite place in the galaxy
× since his mind drifted to galaxies, Izu then starts talking about constellations bc he's nervous
× so when you rub his back he melts into you with a happy sigh yet when your hand reaches his hair, almost about to touch the top of his head mindlessly as you hum at his words
× he flinches— then you stop to look down at him, catching him wide eyed staring into nothing
× you don't even know why you apologize; maybe his horrified face?
× but before you can form a full sentence he interrupts you
× "Don't apologize. It's not your fault—" he'd glue his eyes on you "I— I used to get bullied a lot back then... they'd pull my ears..."
× without any other explanation you take your hand away, placing it on his shoulders, mainly feeling out of place again; every time he speaks of his past, it just gets worse...
× "But! But I trust you, [Y/N]. I really do." and he leads your hand back to his head
× 🥺💕💕💕💕💕
× then, with convinced features, he drops his head on your chest and snuggles for some good seconds before it clicked to him
× now he's apologizing
× until you ruffle his hair and he just experiences bliss in real life
× massage his scalp and say goodbye to ever leaving his side, you're now in his firm grip until the end of time but who's complaining
× like he has no shame anymore, it feels that good
× he can hear your heartbeat, as fast as it is, and he snuggles further into you; it's his lullaby
× now let's get to business
× look: he's adorable, sweet, doting, cares about you and about hybrids, he's actively trying to get out of his shell, he's built but tender, couldn't hurt a fly;
× don't lie to yourself, you've got a big fat crush
× little did you know this guy right here liked you from the moment you introduced yourself to him, months prior
× the issue is Izuku is really insecure; after hearing his whole life that he's inferior to both humans and some hybrids, he started believing it
× and comments whenever you're outside with him do not help
× he has a spectacular hearing
× doesn't miss how people whisper about you two, even if you mind your own business doing whatever
× it's mostly older people, judgemental and disgusted with hybrids that call you a freak for having one, that call him an abomination
× he tries so hard to ignore them but his behavior changes back to his silent old self, yet this time he doesn't cower anymore although grips his pants until his scarred hands are white, not answering back to you if you talk
× you have to assume he's again uncomfortable outside so you suggest leaving, not sure how to behave
× he kinda snaps on your way back home when there's nobody around
× stops in the middle of the road, looking down, brow furrowed and trembling lips
× "Am I never going to be good enough for you?" he'd clench his teeth
× "Izu—, what...?"
× the determined glare he sends you stops you in your tracks
× "Because I want to be. I want to be better for you."
× 😳
× basically confesses in a dramatic way as he's overtaken with emotions then screeches bc oh no what if you don't feel the same so "I-It's okay if you don't feel the same! If you're uncomfortable I can move back to the shelter!! I'm so sorr—"
× smooch him pls????
× and share your feelings just to give him a stroke lmfao
× he'll take the initiative to grab your hand and walk home like that, the other on his face covering it
× peck his lips and he malfunctions every time
× but loves it
× be sure of this: after that night, he's so soft for you and won't hide it
× he's a creature of contact, meaning his fingers will linger on your form, he will seek your form, he will want to snuggle his face in your neck, he definitely will stare at your lips for too long bc he's still shy and embarrassed by his confession to make a move; smooch him pt. 2
× he's so— adorable; he finds himself in front of your bedroom door with your blanket in his arms and has an existential crisis
× you see his shadow at the small creak under the door and akfjaksj
× open the door and let him sleep with you ffs I'm having a stroke for him
× can he be the little spoon? or can you two hug face to face? it's just that 🥺 he feels safe with you like that, a feeling he's been always missing
× any time you're in his arms or vice-versa he breathes out as tension leaves his body; best place in the whole universe, no hesitation.
× he's a petty lil shit, let me tell you that, ok??
× someone flirts with you? lol k he's behind looking not intimidating at all but he's frowning, his ears are twitching and chest puffed
× takes your hand just to prove a point
× talking about his hands
× kiss them, caress them, anything
× he just... yes, pls, do that
× whenever you're not looking he's giving you the gentlest smile and even if you notice, his lips will curl even more before he throws a compliment at you
× pretty much likes your reactions bc he's always the one that's flustered the most between the two [ genuinely doesn't matter if you get flustered or not, he just tops that energy 100x more ]
× likes to know he has the same effect you have on him on a daily basis
× will try to find a job at something he's interested in and i definitely see him finding one at a library or something like that
× he enjoys the silence, completely different from his old loud and over the place life, and also loves books
× unrelated hc but i just imagined Izu whispering the words out loud whenever he reads without noticing it; his green eyes focused in the book, face concentrated and ears low to not get in his field of vision; want to make him happy? listen to him and when he finally notices you, tell him to go on~
× he's the embodiment of akfwpdkslfjjwj 💕
× honestly your life with him is peaceful
× the way he loves is gentle, really sweet and it all revolves about peace in your household
× he adores you to no end and thanks you for helping him improve himself
× and getting him out of a life without a goal or purpose
× gets out of his way to help you, always you and wants to prove he's good enough
× he already is and you better tell him
× give this baby all the love he deserves and you'll get just as much in return
× I'm soft for him oml 💘
#midoriya izuku x reader#deku x reader#midoriya x reader#izuku x reader#midoriya headcanons#hybrid!au#hybrid!midoriya#hybrid!deku#noirewrites
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wherever you will go | jjk
Pairing: Jungkook x female reader
Genre: actor!oc, director!jungkook, smut, angst, humour.
Word count: 21k
Summary: Not much happens when you grow up by the coast. Tourists come and go, the theatre where you work shows the same shows over and over and there’s always sand and salt in the air. Your dreams of making it big in the city are exactly that: dreams. When your hopes of becoming an actress are shattered into a million pieces, you find yourself getting drawn to a captivating up-and-coming movie director by the name of Jeon Jungkook. With his bright eyes and charming smile, he seems determined to glue your pieces back together -- even if it means leaving Ocean City behind for good.
Warnings: themes of loss/grief, mentions of death of a parent, dom!jungkook, dom/sub themes, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, oral sex (f recieving).
Rating: Mature.
A/N: Hello loves! HAPPY JK DAY!! This fic is a lil celebration of our golden boy Jungkook so I hope you enjoy!! This whole fic is sickeningly fluffy and reads like a pretentious YA novel but ya girl wrote this while she was stuck in quarantine a few weeks ago and I debated not posting this bc I lowkey love it lowkey hate it so pleasedonthateme if it’s bad LOL. Also -- just incase you haven’t read the warnings already there is a running theme that deals with the loss of a parent (a topic very close to my heart, hence why this piece was especially healing to write.) so reader discretion is advised if that is triggering to you in any way shape or form!!!! P.P.S Largely unedited so pls bare with any mistakes!
Prelude.
You're late for your work shift, you note, as you catch sight of your watch face glaring up at you menacingly from the arm clutching the handle bars of your bike. As if your mood couldn't get any more miserable -- the dreary morning drizzle that falls from the sky and drips icily down the back of your nape was bad enough.
Goddamn, you groan to yourself as you will your feet to pedal ever faster. Now my hair is gonna be frizzy.
It's a Saturday and the theatre where you work always opens earlier at the weekends. You promised you'd be on time today, but yet here you are, speeding down the worn in sandy sidewalks of your seaside town a whole block away when you should've been opening up half an hour ago.
It's a habit of yours, being late. And as hard as you try, you just can't change a habit. But it can't be helped you suppose. Continuity is all you've ever known. That's the thing about living in a tiny seaside town. Things never change.
The view from your bedroom window has been the same for as long as you can remember — Ocean City — Aka, block after block of rainbow coloured houses with flaky paint leading up to the harbour where boats bob nonchalantly and fishermen reel in their catches beneath the gull filled sky. Beyond it the beach; greyish rolling waves and upturned pebbles nestled atop of hard sand in the winter and clear water and brightly coloured beach towels and brave surfers in the summer.
Nobody ever leaves, and the tourists that arrive in summer never stay. Life becomes a predictable practice, just each day lived out to the next in an endless cycle of never ending continuity. It's suffocating and endless and sometimes you feel like you're just a pawn on a giant chess board, destined to move one agonising square forward at a time, never diagonally. It's hard to change directions when you've been taught to stick to what you know.
You didn't always live here, in this town of continuity. You lived in the big city for a while, where no day was the same as another. But after your mother died you and your older brother were shipped off to live with your dad, who wouldn't know the definition of adapting if it hit him square in the face. He's always been the same square shouldered, balding dude in his forties who never wanted kids and never quite got over losing your mother to the big buck actor she ran off with when you were two.
So that's how you ended up here. Late for work at your job in the country's most prized vacation spot. And your boring reality.
You roll past the beach huts on the shoreline that alternate between vibrant pink and muted blue, barely paying attention to the boardwalk with its little boat house that stretches out into the horizon like a crooked finger. When it gets dark, you can spot the pier carnival lights flashing in the distance from here as they dance across the reflection of the pale white moon and play among the waves.
Even now, the yellow lights of the ornate street lamps that line the water's front shine like tiger's eyes against the sky just like they always have when you turn down the familiar route that takes you past the winding lanes of trinket shops and the happy hour bars and the carnival that feels strangely empty at such an early hour, not a single rollercoaster ride in operation.
Before long you're skidding to a stop outside of the The Crestmont, the old theatre where you work. It's everything you'd expect from a vintage cinema; pink and blue neon lights and a gold trimmed ticket booth out front with a three-sided marquee that extends from the front of the building like a brightly lit airport runway. You hurry beneath it, grateful for the protection it provides from the rain that has started to come down in lashes now, before heading over to the rack around the back of the building where you can chain your bike.
The Crestmont used to be somewhat of a hotspot back in the day or so your told, but these days it only shows cartoons at a discounted price for the neighbourhood kids and the occasional local production of some worn out musical everyone has seen a hundred times before. It's lost all it's magic, everyone says. But you disagree; you probably spend more time here than anyone, and there's magic in every inch of this place.
From the red velvet curtains to the grand chandelier, The Crestmont is one of a kind. Sometimes you disappear into the theatre by yourself for a while unbeknownst to your manager. You can almost taste the laughter and the tears and the love that has been spilled and shared unapologetically amongst these seats. Pure magic.
Your mom left a piece of herself here, too. If you close your eyes you can hear her laughter spilling out into the theatre, or her lilting singing voice filling every nook and cranny like a haunting siren. She was the Crestmont's star. Ocean City's sweetheart.
There's a wall of fame in the lobby. It's covered in portraits crested with gold frames, all filled with pictures of the Crestmont's greatest performers. You've spent hours there — (turns out it's the perfect hiding spot from your manager) — fingers tracing the plaques beneath each one, all inscribed with names that townsfolk whisper with dreamy looks in their eyes. Some are black and white, some colour, but all of them depict pretty faces with beaming smiles that never seem to fade.
Not even your mom's. Her smile is pearly and bright, right above the plaque with her birthdate. And her death date.
And right there at the end, an empty frame. Your frame. You can feel it. You already know how you'll pose for your picture. Hair over one shoulder, hand on hip, smile so convincing that it'll be like every happiness in your heart is written right across your forehead proudly, and you won't have to dull it any longer.
You finish hooking a chain around the handlebars of your bike, catching sight of your reflection in the darkened windows. Staring back at you is a girl dressed in a maroon v-neck with a preppy dicky bow tied around her collar. You frown. The white shirt itches and the high waisted pants make your crotch look weird but the uniform is compulsory. The only thing uglier is the sour expression on your face, which you try to smooth out with your thumb, experimenting with plastering a sickly smile to your face instead. It might be convincing if your lips didn't strain and your eyes weren't so prone to rolling without your permission.
You need to learn to hide your emotions, your father said. You have your feelings written across your face. Customers don't like that.
It's true; customer's didn't usually like you, your unforgiving face or when you spilled cola down their blouse or spat in their popcorn. One more complaint and you were on the path to being fired once and for all, and although in some ways you would be glad to say goodbye to the stupid slushie machine that always gets stuck and the ungrateful customers and the goddamn uniform, you can't loose this job.
Not when it's your ticket to making it big. Then customers will point to your picture as they pass and clutch their chest with a snide superiority, Oh! Can you believe she served me a cola once? I always knew she was gonna make it! instead of Would it kill you to smile a little, honey?
So you swallow a sigh and make your smile as convincing as possible and march inside of the ornate theatre doors of The Crestmont, hoping that today may be the day where things finally change for once.
Where it begins
"I'm going to work!" You call as you you pull a baseball cap down over your hair to cover it's unbrushed wildness. "I won't be back for a while so don't wait up, okay Taehyung?"
You pause with your hand on the door, listening carefully for a response; the small house you live in pulsates with the bass of some indie rock album your brother and his friends are obsessed with at the moment, and your eyes roll when you peer up the staircase and find Taehyung's bedroom door firmly closed like always.
With a shake of your head you scribble out a message on a sticky note — GONE 2 WORK. — and leave it for him to read when he eventually emerges from his man cave in search of sustenance and finds you gone.
You brush away the funny ache that nestles in your stomach. This is nothing new. You're used to not being heard. Your dad is always gone for trips you suspect involve more play than work, and your older brother pretends he's not broken by hanging around with the neighbourhood cool kids and barraging himself in his room for days on end. Despite living under one roof it feels as though you're miles apart, an invisible barrier separating you indefinitely.
You weren't always like this; distant, always stepping on eggshells around each other. You were a family once. A happy one. But since the accident there's been an absence in this house, and nothing has been the same since.
Still, you know that beneath Taehyung's standoffish persona, he's still your big brother. He worries about you. So you tack the note to the fridge and make your way outside.
The lawn is already brown despite it only being late May, and summer is shaping up to be hot and sticky, though you live two blocks away from the beach so the coolness of the ocean still thankfully pervades against your perspiring skin, the gulls already calling you with their high pitched squaks from down at the shoreline.
You've barely made it to the end of the drive before there's the sound of knuckles rapping against glass. You look up and your heart jumps into your mouth. Staring back at you is a pair of dark eyes from behind the upstairs windowpane. Even from this distance you can see how they shine, deep and dark like a cup of black coffee, and you'd recognise the annoyingly cute smirk that matches them anywhere.
Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Taehyung's best friend, and, unfortunately, your crush for as long as you knew what the word love meant.
"Hey, Y/N!" Your heart sinks when the window slides open and a messy head of brown hair sticks out through the gap and points at you with a pout. "You're leaving already? Without me?"
Oh; another thing about Jeon Jungkook. He's also your co-worker, which means you spend 16 hours a week in his company, much to the glee of your heart and the dismay of your conscience.
You weren't exactly surprised when you turned up to the Crestmont theatre for your first shift and were left in the capable hands of none other than Jungkook to teach you the ins and the outs of the popcorn machine and the ticket booth.
For as long as you've known him he's been somewhat of a film buff. He practically grew up holding a camera. You always used watch him and your brother making home movies in the backyard, fit with ketchup sachets for blood and endless costumes from your mom's closet. And the one time you stayed at his house when your dad went away for a while after the accident, you saw all the classic movie posters on his bedroom wall; Casablanca, Singing in the Rain, Jaws. So it made total sense for Jungkook to be at the Crestmont. In fact, you couldn't imagine him anywhere else.
That day you were mostly just surprised that he knew who you were at all. While you had spent years watching him from your bedroom window while he kicked a ball around with Taehyung or avoiding his eyes at the table when he stayed for dinner, he had never so much as glanced in your direction.
Deep down you think the reason he was so quick to take you under his wing is because he knew first hand how hard the accident hit your family. You suppose he feels he owes it to Taehyung to keep you in high spirits.
Although if you weren't you and he wasn't him, you'd swear Jungkook's attentions had become almost flirtatious as of late. He always goes the extra mile to spend time with you, and you even though you know it'll end up with you getting hurt you can't bring yourself to stop him.
You see, Jungkook has a gift for subtle charm. Like how he always sneaks you sodas out back on your lunch break, never forgetting the extra syrup — tooth rottingly sweet just how you like it — slipping one of his own dollars into the cash register to avoid a telling off from your manager. Or how he insists on helping you clean up after the theatre is empty, showing you the best secret places like down the back off seats to find misplaced trinkets and the creaky floorboard where your manager hides his cigarettes. How he insists on walking you home after the evening shift, even if he says he's going this way to see Taehyung anyway.
You've spent countless hours pondering over whether his sweet talking words mean as much to him as they do to you. And as much as you know it's unlikely for someone like Jeon Jungkook to ever have feelings for you, you can't help the way your heart speeds up every time he shoots you one of his signature bunny smiles that light up his whole face like he's happiness personified. And you can't bring yourself to hate him for it.
"I did call," you respond matter of factly, finally sucking in a breath of courage to turn around and squint up at him through the afternoon sun with a shrug. "But that trash you're listening too was too loud for you guys to hear me."
Jungkook's eyes widen as he fumbles around beneath the windowsill and pops up again holding up a shiny vinyl record sleeve. You recognise it instantly; it's from his favourite film — Submarine. He hardly ever shuts up about it.
"This is not trash. This is, like, the best movie soundtrack ever made!" He shakes his head as he takes the needle off of Taehyung's vintage record player, music ceasing with a scratch, and slips it into the sleeve with a grin. "Good thing I have it downloaded so we can listen to it on the way to work, hm?"
You roll your eyes and tap your foot impatiently, and at that, Taehyung appears behind him.
"You're leaving already?" He frowns, words directed at Jungkook even as he glances through narrowed eyes at you stood awkwardly on the front lawn.
"Yup. My shift starts in twenty." Jungkook shrugs, disappearing into the room for a second before he emerges again with a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Sorry dude. I can come back afterwards though, if you want?"
Taehyung purses his lips. Even from here you can see the stress lines embedded in his forehead that make him look older than his humble age of nineteen, somehow weak unlike how you always saw him as a kid. Big and strong; untouchable; your brother.
His blunt eyes never quite meet Jungkook's as he shakes his head softly. "'S good. I was gonna try and sleep, anyway, before the sun goes down. Didn't get much shut eye last night. Not with the..."
Nightmares. Taehyung trails off, but you know that's what he's alluding to. The nightmares that turn your big strong brother into a sniffling mess in the dead of night, kicking around mercilessly until you sneak into his bed and whisper to him until he slips into slumber again. Not that you ever acknowledge it in the morning over your bowls of cereal and vacant good morning's.
"Okay." Jungkook's face momentarily falls; a rare occurrence from the boy who seems to be perpetually cheerful. He pats Taehyung on the shoulder gently. "Take care of yourself, okay man?"
Taehyung just nods, letting out a yawn as he rolls into a stretch. "See ya tomorrow."
You're jolted from your thoughts when Jungkook throws his left leg out of the window, then the other, arms bulging in just the right way where they poke out of the sleeves of his plain white tee as he climbs down the drainpipe and lands with a thump on the soles of his high top sneakers.
"Hey kiddo." He grins as he wipes the palms of his hands on the thighs of his ripped jeans, before messing up your hair despite your groan of protest.
"Don't call me that. You're only a year older than me."
You're startled when you meet the pair of warm eyes that glint golden brown in the summer evening light, chest contracting as you look away and break into a fast walk towards the street.
"And you know you can just use the front door right?"
You hear him snort behind you, neglecting to use the front gate and instead launching over the fence so he lands directly in front of you on the sidewalk.
"How am I supposed to impress my best friends little sister if I can't show off my guns?" He flexes his arm, but you just brush past him with a roll of your eyes.
"You're an idiot."
You hear the clunk of his bike chain unhooking from the gate, before a set of wheels pedal up on the sidewalk beside you. "Hey! Where are you going?"
"Uh, to work?" You offer bluntly, squinting at him through the sun. "You should be too, we start in fifteen minutes."
"I mean why are you walking? What happened to your bike?"
You roll your eyes. "Some tourist kids slashed the wheels at the beach."
"Shit. Really?" Jungkook tuts, but you don't miss the glint in his eye as he nods towards the pegs on the back of his bike that were made for carrying a passenger."Then I guess it's my lucky day. Hop on, we can ride together."
You come to a standstill, arms crossed tightly. "I'd rather walk."
"Oh come on!" He wiggles his eyebrows. "It'll take double the time if we go on foot, and I recall it being you who got a final late warning last week."
"If we go on foot?" You laugh breathily, determined to stand your ground. "Just go on ahead, I'm good here."
"Well, I'm not exactly going to leave you here alone on the side of the road now am I? So I'll be forced to walk with you. And I'm older than you remember? Look, I'm already out of breath! My legs aren't what they used to be, y'know."
"Fine!" With a pout you take the helmet resting in his front basket and hook it underneath your chin, biting your lip to stop a smile from gracing your lips at the excitement that lights up Jungkook's features. "But only because I want you to shut up."
"Your wish is my command." He says with a pat to your head. "Hold on tight, okay?"
And as you wrap your arms around his waist, you're sure his ears heat up a deep shade of red, even it could just be the evening light playing tricks on you.
The theatre at the Crestmont feels eerily quiet when its empty.
You know that because even though your shift was supposed to end at 5, you offered to stick around to help clean up after today's performance. Phantom of the Opera.
"Jesus," You groan as you pick up another sticky soda cup that someone had kindly spilled all over the ground for you to clean up, dropping the offender into a black trash bag. "Doesn't anyone around here know how to use a trash can?"
You fall into one of the theatre seats with a sigh and run your fingers over the scarlet velvet, worn yet plush, the texture soothing you instantly. You tilt your head back and let the silence engulf you. No orchestra, no musical numbers, no stage crew shouting directions. No whirring cotton candy machine. Just you and the stage.
From here you can see every detail on the high ceiling littered with renaissance-style paintings of mermaids and babies armed with heart shaped bow and arrows. Your mom was an actress. When you were a kid you used to spent hours staring at them while she rehearsed. You were convinced they came alive once the theatre closed up for the night, their cheeky smiles evidence of a secret only you knew.
A trail of rainbows is cast by the grand chandelier hung in the center, and it draws your attention all the way down the aisles and up to the stage.
The Crestmont is only small, fitting perhaps 200 people at most. It's hardly Broadway. But the fire in your chest ignites as you glance side to side before sidling up the creaking wooden steps that wind up to the Crestmont's center stage. Your favourite part of the whole theatre.
It's not the first time you've done this. You often like to come up here after everyone has gone home, even though you technically aren't supposed to. There's a certain magic about being alone up here as you collect the lone roses that were thrown on stage by tonight's audience. Breathing in the musty smell of butter popcorn that lingers on the velvet curtains, feel the warmth of the bright stage lights glazing your skin. Something about it feels like home.
The first time you ever saw the Crestmont stage was on tv, watching a grainy camera shakily capture your mom in the very same spot you find yourself right now.
Your mom used to have a cardboard box filled with her old audition tapes. Everything from Hamlet to A Streetcar Named Desire, she'd starred in it, and you spent hours together in front of the television set trying to memorise the way she spoke your favourite lines and listening to her lilting voice recite backstage anecdotes about her rendezvous with foreign directors who dined on her in Paris or underground parties with celebrities you had never even heard of as she stroked your hair.
It wasn't until you got a little older that you realised that, just like you, your mom was a dreamer. Sure, she'd visited a couple different states and starred in some makeup commercials once, and that was enough to make her a celebrity in a town as small as this.
But really? She was just a small town actress with dreams larger than herself and way larger than the Crestmont where she made her name. And suddenly the gaps in time where she would disappear for weeks — sometimes months — on end no longer made sense to you. If she wasn't drinking cocktails with the prince of Monaco or clubbing in London, then where was she?
"Down town with those no good roadies," Taehyung told you once. "They made all these empty promises. Told her she'd make it big if she just did what they said. But look how that turned out."
That was the day you realised your mom was a better actress than you ever knew.
She always thought that her dreams would come true. She believed it so hard that you believed it too, naively. But who knows? Maybe they would have if she didn't get into an accident on her way to New York for her big break.
It's easy to imagine how your mom felt up here. She always looked so alive and free in those VHS tapes as she danced effortlessly across the stage with an ethereal weightlessness, the theatre silent except for the melodic sweetness of her monologues that drew tears to the eyes of those who listened eagerly.
If you close your eyes you can hear the roar of the crowd, hands clapping furiously. The orchestra tuning their brass in the pit, bows melodic against strings. Flowers landing at your feet. The deep breath of satisfaction as you take your final bow and the curtain closes.
Just like that you're moving across the stage, reciting the lines you know so well...
"You're gonna be a star like me some day," A voice whispers against your ear, soft and gentle. A memory. Your mom. "Just like me."
And just like that, she's there. In the audience, clapping. For you. And you feel invincible.
The sound of applause breaks you out of your trance. Real applause. You find yourself stood center stage, broom in hand, staring out at row after row of empty seats that gape with the same emptiness that was here when you arrived.
Except one of the velvet lined seats is filled now. Right at the front.
"Encore!" Jungkook whistles, the harsh thwacks of his palms clapping together clanging inside your ears. "Do it again! That was amazing!"
Your chest seizes painfully, a sudden bout of panic turning your blood cold. You feel the colour leave your face. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching?
Jungkook is watching you attentively, eyes soft at the edges with wonder. It makes bile rise in your throat. You can't be up here. Not when there's a pair of eyes looking at you, judging.
"I..." You begin, but the words get caught in your throat.
"I can't do this."
The way Jungkook's eyes widen and he lurches forward to catch you is the last thing you see before your vision goes black.
The boardwalk is strangely quiet for a summer evening. It's happy hour so you suppose most vacationers are already in the bars in their I LOVE OCEAN CITY T-shirts drinking cocktails or whatever. Not that you're complaining.
The smell of hotdogs and vinegar from the vans that line the strip still fill the air, snatches of conversations from children begging their parents to let them go on the waltzer one last time barely audible above the tinkling bells of the carousel. The ride operators drink soda's as they fan themselves with rolled up newspapers, grateful for the gentle hubbub on such a sticky evening, and then there's you, caught up in the middle of it all.
The wooden boards of the pier are warm against he backs of your thighs. You're sat with your legs dangling through the peeling guard rail that lines the strip. It was painted pastel blue at some point but years of sea spray and grubby hands made it fade to a sickly green tinge that matches the ocean.
Speaking of, the ocean would usually be directly below your feet, murky and wild, but today the tide has receded right back to reveal a large strip of sand. The stands suspending the pier rest on top of it so that you could walk right under and around them if you wanted to. You and Taehyung used to do that all the time when you were kids. Searching for barnacles. Exploring the dark places.
"Here. Eat up. You totally passed out on me back there. You could probably do with some sugar."
The soft voice beside you is the only thing loud enough to permeate your daydreams. You don't have look up to know who it belongs to. Jungkook.
He peers down at you, sun beating down against his back. He's holding two vanilla ice cream cones, double scooped, and he thrusts one into your hands before mirroring your position at the edge of the boardwalk.
The walk down here from the Crestmont was more or less silent, and your stomach twists now you realise Jungkook wants to talk.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing." You lie. The ice cream is cold and sweet and covers the bitterness. "I just think it's funny."
Jungkook's tongue sneaks out to lick up the melted cream dribbling down his cone. "What is?"
"How this place stays the same but I feel so different." You were born here, raised here. This place was your whole life once, with it's salty air and bustling casino's. But since the accident, something's been bubbling inside you, swelling and crashing like the ocean below that taunts you and you've never felt farther from home in your life as you do now, looking out over the town that just won't budge, just like the funny ache in your chest. "Forget I said it. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."
Jungkook fidgets beside you and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh."It's okay, y'know. To miss her."
Your mom. You know that's who he means. Just the mention of her stings.
"Mhm." You snort. "Tell that to my family. If we all carried on missing mom then we'd be in pretty hot shit by now."
"If it's Taehyung you're worried about, then don't be. He's stronger than he looks."
"Until he's not anymore. And we lose him again just like—" You pause. You hate how you can hear the pain in your voice so you smooth it out. "Just like before. And I can't let that happen. I won't."
Jungkook shifts. As Taehyung's oldest friend he was there for everything in the aftermath of the accident. He was there when you put on a brave face for the sake of your family. He was there when Taehyung couldn't be any more.
"That doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time. Think about it this way. The ocean isn't always this calm right?" He gazes wistfully out over the ocean that swells and crashes against the shore, fingers twirling the gold chain around his neck. "Last winter when we had that huge storm, the waves were so big they smashed right through the pier support beams."
You furrow your brows. "What about it?"
"The ocean was just too much for the pier to bare and it would've come crashing down forever if half the neighborhood didn't come down to the beach in the dead of night, despite the rain, and hold it together until the storm calmed and the emergency repair boats could get to shore."
It's true. You remember how unforgiving the rain was as it pelted down against your back and froze you through to the bone that night as each and every familiar face from your neighborhood came down to the seafront to lend a hand, your family included.
Jungkook was there too. He was the one who knocked on your door in the early hours to spread the word. He got given free churros for life by one of the pier stall owners as a reward.
"What I'm trying to say Y/N, is that Taehyung has you to lean on, right? So who do you have?" Jungkook says, staring at you head on now. His sincerity almost makes you blush.
You bite your lip. Deep down you know that your beams are just as broken as Taehyung's and it's only a matter of time before they come crashing down into the water, and this time there'll be nobody to hold the pieces together.
"I don't need anyone. I'm just fine on my own. I can handle my ocean."
Jungkook brushes your hand. You flinch, so he pulls it back into his lap. "Well if you ever need a life boat, then you know where I am okay?"
You don't believe him, but he's staring at you so expectantly that you just tell him what he wants to hear. You're good at that.
"Okay." You whisper. "Okay."
Children's laughter bubbles up from the beach. You watch their distant silhouettes dancing among the waves. It's Jungkook who breaks the silence before it settles between you and becomes uncomfortable.
"Anyway, what were you doing up there on the stage today?" He smiles, like he's trying to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were having the time of your life before—"
You feel your cheeks start to burn. How long had Jungkook been watching you at the Crestmont? Had he seen the whole thing?
"It was nothing. I was just being dumb."
"Nothing?" Jungkook cocks his head to the side and punches you playfully. "It didn't seem like nothing."
"It just...it makes me feel close to my mom when I'm on the stage." You admit. "I loved watching her when I was a kid. She was always larger than life in my eyes. She had this way of making you really believe she was someone else. It was like she wasn't just acting -- she was becoming. Sometimes...sometimes I think I liked her better when she was in character."
You shake your head with a small smile. "I like me better when I'm in character. I used to dream about going to New York one day and becoming an actress just like she wanted to. Small town girl making it big in the city and all that." You scoff. "But I'm nothing like her. It's just fun to pretend sometimes."
"You're good. At performing. Like, really good." Jungkook's eyes are wide. When he places a hand on your forearm you don't shake it off this time. "You take after her. Everyone says it."
It's true. There's one photo of your mom in the house. It's in Taehyung's room. When you were younger you thought it was your face staring back at you from behind the glass. Sometimes you'll be walking down the boardwalk or serving soda's at work and you'll hear the whispers. See their heads turn. Is it her?
"Pfft. Looks mean nothing." You scoff. "She was fearless. I can't even speak in front of one person without passing out, let alone a crowd."
Realisation crosses Jungkook's face. "Oh. So that's what happened back there? Stage fright?"
"Uh huh." You roll your eyes. "So don't give me the follow your dreams spiel or whatever."
"Hmm." Jungkook uses his arms as a makeshift pillow so he can lay back against the ground. You mirror him, peering through your fingers to watch how the golden rays of the sun swallow his frame. "Remember that play they made us do in middle school?"
"The Nativity?" You raise your eyebrow. It was the first theatre production you were in, before the accident and way before you had stage fright.
"Yeah." He grins. "I was the sheep. Taehyung made fun of me for months afterwards because of that stupid costume my grandma made."
"Yeah." You snort. "You did look sorta dumb."
Jungkook bumps your arm with a playful pout that makes you giggle. "And do you remember how I forgot my lines on stage and nearly pissed myself with stage fright? God, I still remember how mad my dad looked in the front row. We'd practiced that part for weeks. I don't know why it happened. I just froze—" A small smile forms on his lips. "But you didn't. Next thing I know there's a kid in a gold star of Bethlehem costume running on stage to recite my lines for me. You stole the show, remember that? Everyone loved you."
"That was then." You murmur, but you can't suppress the smile tugging at the corners or your mouth. "I'm not the same person."
"You were a year younger than the rest of my class but you auditioned anyway, because you knew that you were the only person who could play the star. Because you were a star."
Jungkook turns so that his head rests on his elbow and you're suddenly so close you can feel his breath ghost across your cheek. Your heart pumps in your ears as you gaze dips down to his rosy lips and back up to his sparkling eyes which bore into yours.
"You still are a star."
The words echo in your ears, soft and sincere. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips. You lose your breath. And then you jump away, placing a safe distance between your bodies before you can do something you regret.
"And what about you. Are you still a sheep?" You tease, turning your face so he can't see how it burns rosy red.
"Nah. Figured out pretty quickly after that that I was better off behind the camera." He chuckles.
"Oh right. You still have that thing?" You nod to the camera in his lap. It's one of those old ones that looks like the type that needs a film reel and a projector, but it's been modified so there's a little viewfinder at the side to check the footage instead. "Can I see?"
"What?" Jungkook blinks.
"Some of the stuff you've filmed?"
"Oh! Right!" It's his turn to flush now, scratching the back of his neck as he anxiously thrusts the camera into your hands and pays close attention to the hangnail at the edge of his thumb as you watch the footage.
Your eyes widen when a familiar scene rolls out on the tiny screen. You, on stage at the Crestmont. Jungkook filmed you.
"This is..."
"You." He rushes."Yeah, I know. Sorry if this is awkward—"
"No. Not at all. I just—" You watch in awe as the you inside the camera moves across the stage with an effortless grace. How the lights make your eyes shine and your skin brighter than you remember it being in the mirror this morning. "How did you do that?"
Jungkook's forehead creases. "Do what?"
"Make me look like...that."
"I didn't do anything." Jungkook shrugs. "That's just how I see you."
You could listen to him say that all day, but you stop yourself mid swoon.
"Don't say things you don't mean."
"I do mean it. And I'll show you." He wiggles his eyebrows.
"How?"
He grabs your hand and squeezes it. Tight. "I don't know how yet but I will."
You roll your eyes. "Good luck, Jeon."
"You know I like a challenge." Jungkook laughs, and the melodic sound goes right to your chest. "I'll make you see yourself how I see you. Just wait."
"Since when did you have four wheels?" You call to Jungkook with a quirk of your brow, resting your elbows on the window ledge of the beat up truck he pulls up in outside the Crestmont.
It's a sticky August afternoon and the rusty red vehicle purrs— or more like splutters — in the parking lot as Jungkook untangles your bike from the rack and lifts it into the cargo bed like it's weightless. Just yesterday he came by with his pump and a patch to fix that goddamn slashed tyre, and now he's stealing it?
"Hey! What are you doing with my bike?"
He is clad in nothing but a white vest and board shorts, and you can see perspiration glimmering at his temples as the salty breeze blowing from the beach ruffles the dark curls that flop over his forehead.
"This is my dad's truck," His eyes flash with pride as he hops into the open drivers side door and makes the engine growl. He nods to the empty seat beside him and pushes his dark round sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, fanning his face with his hands. "And you won't be needing your bike today. Now hurry up and get in, loser. I've been waiting ages for your shift to finish and the AC is broken."
You raise a brow. "We're going somewhere?"
"Yeah. Why else would I be waiting for you to get in my truck?"
"I mean, we're going somewhere in this?" You nod towards the truck's worn tires, the fumes that wisp from the exhaust pipe like a lit cigar. "Are you sure it's safe?"
Jungkook notices the way you bite your lip. You don't even have to tell him the worries that are running through your mind. It's as if he can read them like an open book.
"Are you still scared of riding in cars?" He questions, softly.
You nod. That's what an accident does to someone. Makes them scared of something they ordinarily wouldn't even question.
"A little." The breeze ruffles your hair and you hide behind it. "I'm getting better." You add, so he doesn't feel bad because you know he does. His face tells you as much.
"It's a short drive, if that helps." He rushes. "And I asked Taehyung and he said you'd be okay, but if you aren't then I can just walk you home—"
"No." You shake your head firmly. There's a funny fizzing in your stomach that's been there ever since that day on the boardwalk, and it's only growing stronger and stronger now you're inches away from Jungkook and his warm eyes and gentle smile. You don't want it to end just yet. It's enough to outweigh the wriggling fear that's always inside you just a little. "Where are we going?"
Jungkook's face lights up and your heart flips when you realise it's because of you.
"I told you I was gonna make you see what I see, didn't I?"
"Oh that was today?" You tease. "Must have missed it it in the calendar."
"Stop asking questions! Just get in. Please?"
"Fine." You walk around to the passenger door, sliding in beside him and throwing your bag into the back seat. "But I need to be home by midnight or Taehyung will worry."
"No problemo." Jungkook salutes as he switches on the engine and the truck roars to life. You clasp your hands tightly in your lap and breathe through your nose. You're okay. You're safe."Home by midnight. It's a promise."
You gaze out of the window to stop your thoughts from running wild. Jungkook turns left, away from town and the beach and everything familiar. You watch it get smaller and smaller in the mirrors, strangely relieved. Strangely excited.
"Now will you tell me where we're going?" You ask.
"Nope." Jungkook chuckles when you pout. "Just sit back. Relax. Take in the view. Listen to the music."
He leans across the dash, making a point to keep his eyes on the road as he fiddles with the stereo. A familiar string of guitar chords fill the truck. You recognise them, even if vaguely. Probably from Taehyung's vast collection of records.
"The Beatles right?" You ask, resting your chin on your knee as you dare to take a peek at him, blushing when you find him already staring at you.
"Pfft, yeah. Of course it's The Beatles! Only their greatest soundtrack, like, ever."
You shrug. "I've never listened to them before, so I wouldn't know."
"Oh come on? You haven't seen A Hard Day's Night?" His eyes widen when you shake your head. "Super Fly? Pulp Fiction? Purple Rain?"
You stifle a giggle at the look of pure shock he's sending you. "Nope. Should I have?"
"Absolutely!" He splutters. Passion shines in his eyes. "You're missing out on some of the greatest cinematography known to man!"
"I guess you have a lot to fill me in on, then."
"I sure do." His eyes soften. "Open the glove box."
You open it. Inside you find an assortment of cassette tapes, old and new. You send him a curious look.
"Close your eyes and choose one." He nods. "Go on."
You do as he says and shut your lids tightly, feeling around until your fingers curl around a tape you're strangely drawn to. When you open your eyes you find a worn box in your palm, yellow at the edges, and you're momentarily disappointed until Jungkook hums in approval beside you.
"Good choice! Dirty Dancing. A classic." He takes it from you and slides the tape into the stereo. It crackles a little before the music starts. "Trust me, you'll love it."
The stereo tracklist flashes amber. 01: Do You Love Me?
"You broke my heart 'cause I couldn't dance," Jungkook sings along in a deep voice, eyebrows bouncing as you loll your head to the side to send him an eye roll. "And now I'm back to let you know I can really shake 'em down!"
The song starts, all vibrant guitar and drums. It has a funky 60's groove, like it belongs in a swing dancing club instead of on the highway at sunset. It's a happy song and you think it suits Jungkook just right.
Speaking of Jungkook, he starts to bob his head in time with the beat, fingertips tapping in rhythm against the steering wheel. He looks adorably dorky, losing himself to the song, like he's forgotten you're even sat beside him.
"You look like an idiot." You deadpan, though you can't cover the laugh that escapes you as he sings along louder.
"No, I look like I'm having fun!" Jungkook rolls down the window and turns up the music so loud he has to shout for you to hear him. "Don't you ever do this? Just give in to the music for a while? Let your body do what it wants?"
"Uh, no. I prefer to just listen." You shout back. "Besides, your body should be focused on driving this car right now--"
"Oh come on! Just try it."
"Try it?" You blink, stomach suddenly knotting."Like now? In front of you?"
"Well duh. Look. Copy me."
He starts to shake his shoulders from side to side, fingers clicking as he nods for you to do the same.
"I...okay." You start to copy, but you catch yourself in the rear view mirror and you just look stiff compared to how effortlessly Jungkook moves to the rhythm.
"See you're doing it!" Jungkook grins, throwing his head back. "Feels good huh?"
"Kinda..." You have to admit there is something liberating about just letting go. "Like this?"
Your knees volunteer themselves to the beat, and then your arms, and before you know it you've got your eyes closed, hair whipping around your face as you speed down the interstate
"That's it. Feel the music!"
Before you know it, the song ends and you realise all at once that you're laughing. Loud and free, enough to make your belly hurt. Jungkook is too, the sound better than any song you've ever heard, and neither of you can seem to stop.
"Oh my god." You pant, covering your face with your fingers, embarrassed. "Now we both look like idiots."
"Don't hide from me." Jungkook bites his lip. You're suddenly aware of how close he is. His arms grab your wrists, pulling them away from your face, but he doesn't drop the one closest to him. Instead he links your fingers and uses your shared grip to change the gear as he turns down a winding road.
"I'm shy." You say, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.
"Why? You're beautiful." Jungkook puts the car into park. You realise all at once that you've been driving for ages and you didn't even panic once. "Besides, we've arrived. And you're not gonna wanna miss seeing this."
The destination Jungkook seems so excited about turns out to be a concrete parking lot.
"Where are we, Jungkook?" You ask, looking around but finding nothing but tyre tracks and dirt.
Jungkook has already hopped out of the drivers side, sliding over the hood of the car to tug open your door with a quirk of his brow.
He holds out his palm, upturned and calloused. "Do you trust me?"
You bite your lip, heart pounding. Do you trust him?
Your body speaks for you and you slide your hand into his. His thumb traces your knuckles reassuringly.
"Yes." You breathe. "I trust you."
"Good."
You yelp when an arm wraps around your waist and hoists you out of the car, tightly interlocked fingers blocking your vision like a makeshift blindfold. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to."
"Okay." You giggle, feet stumbling as you try to find your balance with the help of a sturdy hand beneath your elbow.
Jungkook hums gently beneath his breath as he guides you up a path that turns from concrete to loose rock to dampened grass beneath the soles of your beat up sneakers. There's a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to be nervous; who knows where he could be taking you right now.
But as you breathe in the musty notes of his cologne and feel your heart flutter in your chest when he comes to a stop and rests his chin on your shoulder, just close enough to feel his laugh ghost across your neck, you don't care where in the world you are right now as long as it's beside him.
"Now, open."
The sun is startlingly bright when you open your eyes for the first time and see the vibrant meadow that stretches as far as you can see.
Wait — that's not the sun. It's sunflowers. Clusters of them, cheerfully waving with the breeze from where you stand on the path that continues for a few steps before it disappears among their stems.
The sunflowers are a burst of golden colour against the fading green of the meadow, and the horizon beyond that which boasts the silhouette of beach rock against the soft blue of the ocean at sunset. There's tracks here and there where the uncut grass is trampled, like some children had played hide and seek.
You reach out a hand and brush your fingertips over the velvety petals; breathe in the botanical scent of the fresh sunny blooms that dances through the meadow. It's breathtaking, you think. There's no coordination, just freedom choreographed by the wind as the tall stems sway back and forth in their gentle dance.
Before you know it you've taken off into a run, grinning with childlike glee when the tall grass tickles your nose and the sun whispers against your neck.
"Jungkook, this place is—"
"Beautiful right?" You nod breathlessly, blushing deeply when you come to a stop and find him staring right at you. He squeezes your hand and that's when you notice your fingers are still interlinked. "I come here a lot. When I need to think."
"How did you find this place?"
"Taehyung and I stumbled upon it a few summers ago by accident." He says. "Nobody knows about it. It's our secret."
"It's so beautiful." You whisper. "The whole world needs to see this."
Jungkook kicks at a stone with the toe of his boot. "I kinda like it being a secret. This place...is special to me."
"Then why...." The words get caught in your throat. You swallow and try again. "Why did you bring me here?"
"I wanted to show you the things I find most beautiful. Remember?"
"The sunflowers?"
"Well yeah..." He scratches the back of his neck. Swallows thickly, like he's preparing himself. "But I was thinking of something a little different..."
You close your eyes, a smile appearing on your lips as you let the crisp breeze caress your face. "Then what?"
There's a sharp click of a shutter, and when your lashes flutter open in surprise, Jungkook is shaking a Polaroid picture back and forth, his eyes glinting with something mischievous.
"Hey! Give me that—" You reach for the Polaroid, stomach churning with a sudden shyness that makes you hug your arms.
"Just — don't do that okay?" He holds it out of reach, pleading with his eyes. "Please."
"Do what?"
"Give up on what makes you happy just because you're scared." His palm cups your cheek. "You said it yourself. Being in front of the camera is where you belong. Don't you see that?"
"I'm not scared." You feel the heat rise in your cheeks when Jungkook sends you a knowing look. "Okay maybe I am scared. And so what if I am? You've already given me the face your fears spiel and I told you. I'm perfectly happy avoiding every camera known to man for the rest of my life if it means I never have to face them."
"But you've already faced one of your fears today. You got in my car, remember?" He raises an eyebrow, smug. "Well, two technically, 'cause you're here with me now and I know how nervous you used to get around me--"
"Did not!"
"Do too! Every time we talk outside of work you get all shy and--"
"Shut up."
"See! You're doing it right now!"
You don't know what compels you to do it. Maybe it's the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks or the way your heart quickens when Jungkook closes the gap between you, but before you can stop yourself you're reaching up and grasping his face with both hands.
"Oh just shut up and kiss me, doofus."
The smug smirk on Jungkook's face is replaced with wide eyed surprise, his lips falling still for a moment when yours crash against his. But then his steady hands find your waist and he supports you on your tip toes so he can pull you ever closer, melting into the plush press of your lips.
When you pull back, you're smiling. You can't help it. You've been dreaming of this moment since, like, middle school. And goddamn, he even tastes how you imagined. Like black coffee and toothpaste.
"See." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Happiness suits you."
"Whatever, Jeon." You smirk. "Don't let it go to your head, but it's thanks to you."
Jungkook flashes you the biggest bunny grin you've ever seen, eyes sparkling at your words.
"Wait...stay like that." He reaches for his camcorder in his backpack and points the lens at you. The smile falls from your lips. You place a hand on his arm, grip tighter than you intended.
"Jungkook stop."
"What's wrong? Just keep smiling like that, the shot was perfect—"
"I don't know what to do." You shrug, the lens boring into you like a judgy aunt at Thanksgiving dinner. "The camera makes me nervous."
"Just pretend I'm not here."
You sniff. "I don't want you to not be here..."
"Listen," Jungkook cups your face, thumbs tracing your cheeks fondly. "The reason I brought you here? It's because this place reminds me of you. Beautiful."
"Jungkook--"
"Just like you said, the world needs to see this place. Just like they need to see you."
"I..." Your heart is on the verge of exploding, you would swear it. "Okay." The word rolls off your tongue before you can stop it because somehow you trust him. And deep down, there's still that fizz of excitement mixing in with all the nervousness. The Jungkook Effect. You don't want to lose it to the darkness like everything else.
"I'll try. Just-- don't laugh at me okay?"
"You have my word, sarge." He salutes with a thoughtful grin. "Hold on a sec. I know exactly what you need to get you going."
Jungkook jumps to his feet and you watch with your chin tucked between your knees as he jogs down the rocky path and opens all four of the truck doors, even the trunk, before his head disappears into the vehicle and the same pumping bass from earlier starts blasting into the quiet serene of the sunflower field.
"There," He grins as he returns, out of breath, and sits back down beside you cross legged, holding his camcorder to his eye. "Now do what you were doing before again, but over there. Just pretend you're on stage at the Crestmont, okay?"
You feel the music wash over you and the urge to move hits you like a wave. Jungkook nods encouragingly and there's something in his eyes that flips a switch inside you. And for the first time in a long time, all the passion and spirit and feeling inside you fizzes up to the top and you can't contain it any longer.
"That's it!" Jungkook calls, shutter clicking uncontrollably. "I knew you could do it!"
An oak tree provides sun-flecked shade, a cool sanctuary from the sun that sets on the horizon and splashes the sky's canvas magenta.
Jungkook laid out a checkered blanket from the trunk of his truck which you both lay upon, shoulders pressed together as close as humanly possible, surrounded by your devoured picnic consisting of his mom's fruit punch and bags of snacks he took from the concession stand at the Crestmont when nobody was looking.
"Holy shit, Y/N." He says through a mouthful of popcorn, jabbing his finger at his favourite shot of you in front of the sunflowers. "This is what I've been saying! You're a natural in front of the camera."
"No, you're amazing, Jungkook." You feel for his hand. It's funny how natural it feels already when his pinky links with yours. "Behind the camera."
"You think?" He chews his lip, eyes searching yours for approval.
"I know. You should do something with these. People need to see them."
"I'm thinking of becoming a filmographer, actually"
"Like at the pier?" You think of the tacky photo booth that overlooks the sea in town, fit with all the silly cardboard cut outs that tourists come and take a photo with for a dollar.
"No, I mean a real filmographer." He shrugs, and you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his cheeks. "Y'know. Movies and stuff."
You nod. It makes sense for Jungkook to spend his life with a camera glued to his right hand. You can't imagine Jungkook anywhere else, and you have to ignore the sinking feeling that comes with the realisation that he would eventually leave Ocean City -- and you -- behind for the big screen.
"Well you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."
"My lucky star." Jungkook smiles.
"Always."
He must see the sadness brimming inside you, his body shuffling closer so your knees brush. It's reassuring somewhat.
"Actually...there's something I should tell you."
He shifts under your gaze. The nerves rush back. "What is it?"
"I guess I finished writing my first screenplay..."
"That's like a movie script, right?" You ask eagerly, and he nods. "That's great, Kook!"
"Yeah, it's great it's just --" He pauses, and clutches your hand tighter like he's scared what he says next will make you let go forever. "It's about you."
You pale. "M-me?"
"I mean, it's about you and...and Taehyung! And your mom." Jungkook rushes. "I was inspired by your story at the boardwalk and it just happened! I'm sorry, I know you probably hate me now and think I'm crazy but--"
"Burn it." You deadpan.
Jungkook blinks. "W..what?"
"I said burn it." You pull his hand into your lap and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't hate you, Kook. I just think you were right earlier when you said I need to face my fears. And the only way I can do that is by forgetting my past. The last thing I need is a whole freaking movie about it."
He joins in with your strained chuckles. "Sure you aren't mad?"
"Not mad." You assure with a smile.
"Then I'll burn it."
You avoid his gaze shyly. "I'm kinda honoured you wrote about me, though." You admit.
"I guess...I guess I could call you my muse." Jungkook blurts hurriedly. His nose is a deep shade of pink and it makes you want to tease him forever.
"Yeah." You nod to yourself with a smile. "I like that. Your muse."
And then his lips are on yours again, like he can't quite help himself, and you start to forget where yours begin and his end.
This time it's not delicate and sweet. It's slow and languid, hot and heavy. The sunflowers break your fall, Jungkook's lips never leaving yours as he climbs on top of you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other planted beside your head so that his chest hovers above yours. You're almost certain he can feel how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, but you don't care, too lost in the bliss of finally feeling Jungkook's plush lips against your own.
"Come to New York with me." He says breathlessly between kisses, and your heart stops.
"What?" You can hardly drag your lips away from his but you have to be sure you heard him right. New York?
"I mean, in the future. I'm gonna go to New York. Get a job at a film production company or something, I don't know--" He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Come with me."
"I...I can't."
"Why?" He frowns. "Is it me?"
"No! God no."
"Then why? You said it was your dream right?" You nod. "So what's stopping you?"
"I..I have to take care of Taehyung, and my job at the Crestmont and--"
"Okay. Lets pretend none of that exists. It's just you and me." His breath ghosts against your forehead. "Y/N, will you come to New York with me?"
"Yes." It comes out breathless, but you mean it. With every atom and nerve and fiber in your body. "Lets go to New York."
Where things change.
3 years later.
A postcard sits on the Welcome Home! Doormat you and Jungkook bought before you left for New York. You recognise the picture perfect image of Ocean City on the front, and Taehyung's messy scrawl on the back that tells you he's doing fine at his new management job at the Crestmont and he will be sending a housewarming gift imminently.
— Stay smiling, Y/N. Miss you already! Taehyung. :)
With a small smile you tack it onto the bare fridge. It brightens up the empty kitchen somewhat, a little piece of home and a reminder that you don't need to worry about leaving your brother behind to fend for himself so much any more. Since he pulled his life together and got a job at the theatre, it's like he came alive again. Found his purpose.
Speaking of purposes, you suppose that's how you found yourself here. In your very own apartment in a nice complex on the east side. The east side of New York City.
There's a pair of satin curtains hung over the balcony doors, probably left behind by the old tenant as it's the only form of furniture in the whole apartment. They rustle in the morning breeze and you tiptoe across the room barefoot to rip them open, letting your eyes flutter shut when the early morning sun filters through the glass and cascades over your face like a warm embrace.
You press a hand to the glass, studying your reflection; the messy lump of hair atop your head, the soft shadow of your lashes atop your cheeks. And beyond it, New York. Your new normal in all it's familiar glory from your dreams, yet still so deliciously foreign it makes your heart leap whenever a cab horn rings out in the distance or you breathe in the smell of fresh bagels from the shop down the street.
Home. You could finally call it that now. But New York is just a city and this apartment is just a house. The real reason you get to call this place home is because of who you came here with.
Jungkook.
You've been dating for two and a half years by now. He let you borrow one of his old much-too-big t-shirts to sleep in last night. There's a hole in the shoulder and the hem brushes your knees but it's warm and smells like his cologne and your heart expands when you close your eyes and remember this is just the beginning. You have so much to do, so many things to see here in New York. So many things to learn. And there's nobody you would want to explore life with more than Jungkook.
His camera equipment lays in a cardboard box by your feet, and something compels you to take out the old-school camcorder he loves. The leather strap tightens perfectly around your hand and the red RECORD button flashes as you open the doors wide and lift the lens to take in the view. Something tells you you're gonna want to remember this moment forever.
It's not long before a pair of arms wrap around your waist, chin tucked cheekily into your shoulder. "There you are." Jungkook husks, stilly groggy with sleep as his lips ghost across your cheek.
Turning around in his grasp, you find him still shirtless, sweatpants slung low around his hips. He's been working out recently, and you can't deny you don't love how firm his shoulders feel when you brace yourself on them to stand on your tip toes and leave a peck to his lips.
"Morning sleepyhead," you say, running your fingers through the strands of his silky bed hair. It's longer these days, whispering across the nape of his neck and falling across his round eyes sweetly. They flutter closed when you massage his scalp just how he likes it. "I was wondering when you'd finally get out of bed."
"Missed you." His lips turn up when he sees the camera pointed at his face. "Whaddya doing with that?"
"Making memories." You say simply, zooming in on him as he rubs his sleepy eyes. "So we never forget this."
A cheeky smirk appears on his lips as he wraps you in his arms, a surprised giggle leaving you when he spins you around and grabs the camera so he can point it at the both of you, his chin resting on your shoulder now as his bare arm snugly wraps around your waist.
"Hey stop! I just woke up, I look bad!"
"Hello us of the future," Jungkook chuckles, pulling your fingers away from your face when you bury your face in his chest to hide from the lens. "It's our first day in New York and Y/N is being all camera shy--okay, okay fine, lets show them the view instead!"
Jungkook finally flips the lens around so it focuses on the distant silhouettes of tall skyscrapers skimming the blue skyline, before he turns it back onto you guys once more with a mischievous look this time.
"But we have to go now because we have far more interesting business to attend to..." He lowers the camera as his lips start to trail up your collar bone and he smiles when your eyes flutter shut and you gasp at the feeling, but it's quickly replaced by a pout when you wriggle out of his embrace with a stern look.
"Not now. Later."
"Mmf? Why?" He whines, making grabby hands towards you. "You're so warm, jus' wanna cuddle for a bit."
"No time!" You call over your shoulder as you grab him by the hand and drag his heavy feet behind you. "We've got an apartment to decorate."
Before you know it you've enlisted Jungkook's help in laying tarps across the living room floor, two pots of bright white paint plonked in the center. It's not like you could afford a decorator after all. You are two broke twenty-something's trying to make it big in New York, and all that cliche stuff. So you would just have to do it yourselves.
Jungkook's over in the corner, miming along to the guitar solo from some rock song playing from the radio balanced on the windowsill, the paint roller his instrument as he dances around the room with giddy impulse. There's paint all over his butt where he accidentally leaned against one of the wet walls and he's got his hair tied back into a bun at the crown of his head and you watch him out of the corner of your eye while an affectionate smile creeps onto your face no matter how hard you try to curb it.
That's when you notice the camera in his other hand. He zooms in on the stepladder in the corner, the paint spillage in the hall, the heart with Y/N + JUNGKOOK FOREVER written inside it on the back wall. Documenting everything as usual.
He was always filming you, too. Whether you were making coffee in the morning or drying your hair. He'd even slow down beside you on the sidewalk to get the perfect shot.
You find it cute, even though you pretend to hate it. It makes your heart flutter every time you catch him rewinding the footage with a contented smile on his face, like he just captured the whole world with his lens.
It's no surprise when you finish putting the final coat on the wall and step back to admire your handy work that you find him wandering around the apartment with his hand curved around the lens of one of his bigger cameras like it's natural to him. You always joke that thing is like an extra limb, but he looks so calm as he looks through his lens at the room that is now drunk on the afternoon sun pouring through the window, the golden rays like honey on his skin, that it's easy to see that the camera really is a part of him. Passion lies in the soft lines of concentration on his face, in the plump lip tugged between teeth as he fiddles with the settings.
Jungkook sees beauty where others don't, where others can't. It might as well pump through his veins. And it's one of the reasons you love him so much.
You shake your head when you see how a small smile finds his lips when he leans a shoulder against the door frame and lets the camera land on the thing he swears is most beautiful.
"Hey." You warn, shooting a side wards glare at the camera lens you spot Jungkook not so discreetly pointing in your direction. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" He runs a hand through his hair, lips pulling back into a sly bunny smile when you bend down to reach a spot you missed at the bottom of the wall. "I'm not doing anything."
Your upper lip twitches. "Are you zooming in on my ass?"
"What? No!" Jungkook scrunches his nose with wide eyes, a habit you knew meant he was guilty, a pout forming on your lips as he snaps the viewfinder closed and shoves the offending piece of his equipment behind his back.
You narrow your eyes affectionately. "Perv."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He blows a strand of hair out of his face innocently but there's a playful glint in his eyes and you can hardly keep a serious face as you plant your hands on your hips in what you hope is a menacing manner.
"Then lemme see it." You challenge with a nod to the camera behind him.
He feigns indifference, cocking his head to the side like an overgrown puppy. "See what?"
"That's it!" You shake your head, charging towards and him making grabby motions towards the camera. Jungkook looks down at you fondly as he holds it above your head, out of reach, and it only makes you you pout harder. "Hey! Give it!
"Never!" You jump pitifully, fingers grasping around nothing. A melodic chuckle spills from Jungkook's lips when you cross your arms over your chest in defeat and blink up at him crossly. "You have to say the magic word first."
You scoff at the teasing look on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows and waves the camera just above your head, before an idea strikes you and within seconds you're wielding a paintbrush, Jungkook's eyes widening when you point the paint coated bristles at his face.
"Give it up." You hold out your palm with a smug look. "Or the walls are not the only thing getting a fresh coat."
"You wouldn't." He smirks, despite being backed into a corner now.
"Oh yeah?" Without further ado you swipe the brush down the bridge of his nose, swallowing a giggle at the white smudge it leaves behind and his shocked expression beneath it. "You underestimate me, Jeon."
Jungkook pushes his tongue into his cheek, eyes dancing up and down your body before they lock with yours daringly. "You shouldn't have done that."
"Or what?" You taunt playfully, a laugh escaping you, but you quickly bite down on your lip when you see the glint in Jungkook's eyes as he submerges both his hands into the nearby bucket of paint.
You don't run when he steps closer. Instead your breathing quickens, heart doing a funny somersault when he brushes your hair to the side and clamps both of his wet hands on the sides of your jaw to bring your face up to his.
He tastes like coffee and desire when your lips crash together in a delicious tangle of teeth and tongue, all the thoughts racing through your mind dripping away like honey until all that's left is the thump of your heart against your chest and Jungkook's warmth as he backs you up against the wall.
When he pulls away he rubs his paint covered nose against yours, cocking his head and smiling sweetly when he leans back and admires his handy work.
"You have paint on your face." He looks down at his white hands innocently with a shrug. "Whoops?"
His hands trail down to your hips. You reach to your side and grab a fistful of paint, wiping it down the centre of his face and giggling when he groans and scrunches his eyes closed . "So do you."
"Okay, that's it. This means war!" Jungkook growls, strong arms wrapping around your waist, and before you know it you're stumbling over to the mattress in the corner, Jungkook's body hovering over yours.
"You wanna play dirty, huh?" Desire-filled eyes trace your face, travelling down the expanse of your neck before zeroing in on your collar bones. You gasp when Jungkook's lips attach themselves to the sensitive skin, every inch of you set alight when his burning fingers slide beneath the hem of your tshirt and find your thighs. "Always being such a bad girl, huh?"
"So? What're you gonna do about it? Punish me?" You say teasingly, and he stiffens, lips leaving a mark behind on your neck with a pop. Jungkook's narrowed eyes meet yours and you feel your heart speed up with anticipation.
His lips twitch, like they're dying to turn up. "Brat."
With that, you're being flipped over onto your knees with a yelp. Jungkook's hands work quickly and before you know it your tshirt is over your head and the sudden breeze from the open balcony doors against your hardened nipples makes you gasp.
"You love it." You laugh breathily.
"Too much," Jungkook confirms, before his large palm presses you down into the bed firmly between the shoulder blades so that your ass is thrust up in the air. You wiggle is teasingly, though the breath catches in your throat when the first spank lands on your bare skin. Then a second, the sound ringing out through the empty room like an echo and making a damp spot appear on your panties.
"Hey!" You chastise when you remember the paint on his hands that just left two glaring handprints right across your ass.
Jungkook just smirks. "What? Now everyone knows it's mine."
A third slap and you have to bite the blanket to stop from groaning, then a fourth, and a fifth and by then your eyes are watering but in the best way. Calloused hands smooth over the burning area, soothing it.
"Good girl," A raspy voice whispers next to your ear. "Such a good girl for me, taking your punishment. I think you deserve your reward now, hm?"
"Please." You moan as he reaches around to grasp your breast, tweaking your nipples in a way that has you writhing beneath him.
"Don't say I didn't warn you though," Jungkook chuckles as he rips your panties down your legs, gasping at the sight of your dripping slit like it's the first time. He runs a finger down your folds, biting back a groan when it makes your legs fall open a little further, desperate for his touch. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."
"Jungkook, what do you-- oh!." Before you can finish, Jungkook is pushing your face back into the comforter, spreading your cheeks with his palms and licking an agonizingly slow stripe up your throbbing core. His tongue finds your clit easily, toying it with the tip playfully until you're gasping for air.
"Mmf, tastes so good." He murmurs against your folds, the vibrations of his chuckle making you moan so hard your legs start to shake. His tongue finds your hole, swirling around teasingly before it slips inside and you can't handle it anymore.
"Jungkook!" You gasp, reaching behind to grab his hair. "I..I can't-"
"You can." He says, almost a command, mouth leaving your pussy only so he can slide over onto his back and pull you back down onto his face by the hips.
"Oh g-god!" Your hand reaches for the headboard, landing on the wall to steady yourself when you remember you still haven't bought a bed frame yet. Your legs are starting to ache from holding yourself up but you don't care, too lost in the feeling of Jungkook's tongue lapping at your swollen folds as you grind in lazy circles on his face.
"C-close, Kook." You manage to splutter, head thrown back with pleasure when he slides two of his fingers inside you and starts to pump in time with his tongue, the sensation of being filled enough to send you over the edge into a shuddering climax that is unlike anything you've felt before, the only thought on your mind the way your hole clenches around your boyfriend's fingers.
It takes a few moments for your legs to stop shaking, your hearing slowly coming back into focus as you hear both of your heavy breaths intermingled. You look between your legs to find Jungkook staring up at you with a grin, eyes filled with wonder. His chin gleams with your juices, the front of his t-shirt damp as you realise with a gasp what just happened.
"Did I--?"
"Yup."
"Holy fuck." You swing your leg over his shoulder so you're beside him, Jungkook sitting up to look at you, still mesmerised. "I...I'm sorry, that was--"
"The hottest thing you've ever done." Jungkook finishes, grinning at you like he just won the lottery.
You raise a brow, surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah. Can I fuck you now?"
You can't help but laugh at his eager puppy dog eyes, hands practically twitching at his sides to touch you. A quick glance at his crotch confirms the biggest tent in his pants you've ever seen, and you crook a finger towards him with a sultry smile and a nod.
"Let's see if you can make me do that again."
"O-Okay!" Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head eagerly, and then he's on top of you, burning skin meeting burning skin. Your palm runs down his chest, Jungkook's eyes falling shut when it reaches the hem of his sweatpants. You cant help but gasp when your fingers wrap around his length through his boxers, core already throbbing again to be filled. He shivers when your finger circles his tip, admiring the wet patch on his boxers.
"Eager?" You smirk.
"You squirted on my face, Y/N, of course I'm goddamn eager."
"Get these off then." You tug at his pants and he kicks them off without a second telling.
"Your wish is my command."
When he returns to hovering over you, both completely bare now, he pauses. His eyes meet yours, a gentle smile appearing on his lips as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and grips your jaw protectively.
"I love you, y'know."
You close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his but barely able to keep yourself from grinning with the elation swirling in your chest. "I love you too, doofus. Now hurry up or I'm gonna have to fuck myself."
"That sounds kinda awesome--"
"Kook!"
"Okay, okay, on it!"
Palms spread your legs, and you both gasp when Jungkook runs the blunt head of his leaking cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices before he lines it up with your entrance.
"Ready?" He checks, thumb tracing circles into your inner thigh.
"As I'll ever be."
And with that, he pushes inside, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a sigh of relief at finally feeling your walls clenching around his throbbing length. The stretch of his girth stings, but it makes you feel so deliciously full, so perfectly whole to be connected to Jungkook like this that all you can get out is another soft I love you that earns a blissful smile from your boyfriend as he starts to move.
Each stroke makes you lose your breath, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. It's when Jungkook takes your nipple into his mouth that you feel a second orgasm start to build, one hand gripping the sheets as the other drags scratch marks down his muscular back in blissful agony.
It's not long before Jungkook spills inside you with a deep growl, your own high hitting you as you feel him coat your walls. He collapses onto your chest, breaths deep and exhausted, and wraps you in his arms before you can even catch your breath.
Jungkook pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and places a kiss to the top of your head. He's so warm you feel yourself start to drift off into a blissful sleep, the smile on your lips never faltering.
"I love you too." Is the last thing you hear him say before sleep takes you under, and you're safe wrapped up in each other's arms.
When you open your eyes, the room is warm with sunset's rose tinted blush, and Jungkook's body is no longer beside you. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you sit up on your elbow and find him on the ground in front of the freshly painted wall, intricate petals and stems flowing from the end of the paintbrush he delicately waves across the surface to paint the prettiest sunflower you've ever seen.
"I'm home!" You hear your boyfriend yell out as he shuffles into the apartment, quickly followed by a yelp. "Hey, Gureum, stop trying to lick my face!"
You can't stop the smile that spreads across your features when a ball of white fluff comes bounding into the living room, the puppy that excitedly jumps into your arms tracking a trail of muddy paw prints over the script in your hands.
"Hey Gureum," You coo, scratching him behind the ears where you know his sweet spot is. "You're such a good boy, huh?"
"Don't praise him! He totally ran away from me in Central Park and I had to chase him all the way home!" You can practically hear Jungkook's eye roll, shaking your head fondly at the mock annoyance in his voice. It was Jungkook who begged you to adopt a puppy for months in the first place, and they've been more or less inseparable ever since — the little guy hardly ever leaves his side. It's safe to say Jungkook is definitely Gureum's favourite.
The smell of coffee and fresh bagels wafts through the apartment, a warm sensation settling in your stomach as your boyfriend rounds the corner and waves a brown paper bag.
"Still got us enough coffee to stay up all night learning lines though." Jungkook grins, dumping the contents onto the coffee table and raising his eyebrows when your hands dart straight for the chocolate cookies. "Speaking of learning lines, how is it going, pretty?"
He nods towards the script in your hand. It's worn at the edges and ferociously dog eared from all the nights you have stayed up until sunrise reciting the words littered across the pages over and over, until it's like your lips are moving by muscle memory and the words are a part of you.
After what felt like hundreds of failed auditions, you had started to lose hope. With every letter that landed on the porch with another SORRY or MAYBE NEXT TIME, you felt all the confidence in the dream you worked so hard to uncover start to dwindle.
But Jungkook was always there, by your side no matter what. Encouraging you when you forgot your lines or holding you when you didn't get the callback. Reminding you to eat whenever you were too absorbed in your work to cook or cheering you on from the crowd at your weekly improv performances.
It was Jungkook who cried with you when the director of the small theatre downtown called and gave you the lead part in his upcoming stage production. Your big break. And you were determined to make sure everything ran smoothly at opening night tomorrow, which is how you find yourself snuggled up on the couch rewinding your VHS copy of Dirty Dancing over and over again until you have every word memorised by heart.
"Pretty good." You say as you pop a salted peanut into your mouth while Jungkook slips out of his tweed jacket. He's been trying to dress more New-York-ish these days, or so he says. More dress pants and less sweats. "Final rehearsals start at five."
"Aren't you nervous?" Jungkook squishes into the space beside you, Gureum cuddling up between your bodies.
Tomorrow night's show is sold out, along with every night after that for the next week. You heard there were going to be at least 700 people there each night.
"Terribly." You admit, stomach churning at the thought of 700 pairs of eyes staring right at you. You try to focus on the fizzing excitement that lingers there too, growing stronger and stronger. "But I think I'm more excited".
"I'm excited to see you up there doing what you love." Jungkook smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "My star."
"Well don't get too excited because I still keep messing up this one goddamn scene," You flip the script to a page covered in bright highlighter scribbles and run your fingers through your hair exasperatedly. "I'm totally gonna mess it up and then I'll never get another job and—"
"Shhh," Jungkook takes the script from your hands and runs his eyes over it quickly. "Don't talk like that. You're gonna be amazing — hold up..." He raises an eyebrow. "Is this...the kiss scene?"
You feel your cheeks redden, voice small. "Yes."
"Then you're in luck because who better to help you practice than the best kisser in all of New York?"
You snort. "Wow, I sure could use some of your expertise Good-Sir-Makes-Out-A-Lot."
"Then you're in the right place..." He runs his finger over the script, jabbing at one line in particular.
[Johnny and Baby kiss.]
"Let's start here, hm? For practice, obviously."
"For practice." Your eyes roll but your heart still beats a little faster as he closes the space between you, hand pressing into the wall so his sturdy body hovers over yours, hands instinctively pulling him closer by the collar.
"Come give me a kiss, m'lady..." Jungkook murmurs, but before he can tilt your chin up towards his lips there's a sudden series of frantic knocks at the front door.
"What the heck?"
You both jump out of your skin, Jungkook's eyes narrowing as he glances over his shoulder at the shadowy figure outside, fist pounding the glass fervently, like they're trying to break it down.
"Okay, damn, I'm coming!" He yells with a roll of his eyes. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders as he hops up from the couch with a sigh. "Probably just some dumb marketer again or something — dude, chill! I said I'm coming! — be right back."
The lock slides open and you hear Jungkook gasp. Your stomach drops. "Who is it?"
"Uh, Y/N..." You hear the door click shut and the sound of squeaky shoes shuffling inside. The anxiety in Jungkook's voice makes your heart skip. "You might wanna come see this."
"Huh?" Your legs feel shaky as you follow him out into the hall, chest seizing when you lay eyes on the dripping wet hair and chattering teeth of the shivering man stood before you, eyes dark and grave like they used to be.
"Taehyung?" You splutter, ripping the blanket from around your shoulders and swaddling him in it as quickly as you can, Jungkook already bounding into the other room to get dry clothes and towels after shooting you a terrified glance.
Taehyung grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a tight embrace. His cheeks are wet against your shoulder, but you can't tell if it's because he's been crying or because he's been out in the freezing cold rain — hold on, did he walk here?
"Y/N," He murmurs frantically, eyes darting back and forth but never quite focusing on anything. You knew this look. This is how he looked that day you found out about the accident. Murky, far far away. Devastatingly sad. Something wasn't right.
"What is it?" You ask, pulling him into the living room and sitting him on the couch before his shaking knees buckle beneath him. "What are you doing here, Tae?"
"It's...it's the Crestmont." He whispers.
"What about the Crestmont?" Jungkook appears behind Taehyung, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it's like your brother doesn't even feel it.
"They're tearing it down." He mumbles. "They're tearing down the Crestmont. Forever."
"Okay, now let's start from the beginning."
Jungkook's calm voice lilts from beside Taehyung who, after a warm shower and two cups of cocoa, has stopped shivering and seems to be ready to talk.
A hand reaches across the coffee table to tug on your wrist mid-lift to your mouth, a reminder from Jungkook to stop biting your nails. An old nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in Ocean City but apparently more than just Taehyung showed up here unannounced tonight.
"I...I got a call this morning." Taehyung begins, pausing to take a sip from the mug he cradles in his lap. His hands are shaking so he places it on the coffee table for safe keeping, right beside your discarded script. "It was from a construction company."
"And?" You prod, somewhat impatiently, making Taehyung jump.
"And apparently the owner of the theatre is behind on rent and...and..." He swallows hard. "And they're buying the rights to tear it down and build an apartment complex in its place."
"What?" Both you and Jungkook exclaim at the same time.
Jungkook's fists clench. "I always knew that old man was shady."
Taehyung fumbles in the pocket of the coat he arrived with, retrieving a brochure which he thrusts towards you.
The image on the front is of a metal skyscraper, far too shiny and new to belong in a seaside town like Ocean City. Fusion Apartments — modern living.
Jungkook rakes a hand through his hair, eyes sorrowful as you pass it over to him. "This sucks. Big time." He murmurs. "The Crestmont is the heart of Ocean City. How can they just bulldoze it like it means nothing?"
"That's why..." Taehyung swallows. "That's why I came here. I thought maybe you guys could help me, and we could do something before they—"
"We?" You furrow your brows. "You want us to help stop them from tearing down the Crestmont?"
"I mean yeah, I guess? I figured you guys would understand how important it is—"
You bite your lip. Taehyung flinches when you place a hand on his knee. "Tae. It seems like they've already got it figured out I mean...what can we do about it? The Crestmont has had a long run and maybe it's time for something new in Ocean City..."
"Y/N?" Jungkook warns, but there's a betrayal in his voice. How could you say that? It pains you, but you continue anyway. "What are you saying?"
"I just...I think it's time to let the Crestmont go."
Taehyung stands up so abruptly his mug smashes onto the marble tile.
"How could you?" He roars, but his bottom lip trembles. "The Crestmont is mom's place! It's all we have left of her in that fucking town and you want to just let them burn it to the ground?"
You tut, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of china with a sharp glance at your brother. "For goodness sake, Taehyung. Mom isn't there anymore. She never was. She was always running off with some roadies and leaving us behind because she thought she was something special."
Taehyung scoffs. "What? Just like you?" He grabs the cocoa sodden script, crumpling it up in his shaking fist. "You are exactly the same as her. Running off to New York and leaving me behind to get your big break."
Jungkook steps forward warily. "Taehyung, you don't mean that—"
"Yes I do! If Y/N had just gotten in the car that day she wouldn't have died. It was all her fault. And now she's just gonna let them take what we have left of her."
"What?" Jungkook blinks.
Your stomach sinks. Is that really what Taehyung thinks? You wouldn't blame him. Deep down, his words strike a nerve. Because you know they're true.
Taehyung's eyes are hazy, unfocused. You reach for him dizzily, but he backs away into the hall.
"I shouldn't have come here." Taehyung whispers. He looks between you and Jungkook one last time before he's grabbing his coat and running down the steps to the first floor.
"Taehyung, wait!" You hear Jungkook's footsteps follow him out into the stairwell, but you're trapped on the ground, heaving for air.
Your hands shake as you pull yourself up to the window pane and watch Taehyung disappear into the gloom of the city, the sorrowful raindrops that lash against the glass mirroring the ones on your cheeks.
YOU: Taehyung???
YOU: [CALL IGNORED]
YOU: please Tae
YOU: can we at least talk about this?
YOU: we're worried about you
It's been nearly 12 hours since you watched Taehyung disappear among the hustle and bustle of New York from your apartment window.
You and Jungkook were out all night searching for him. By the time you gave up the sun was rising and the birds were chirping and Jungkook somehow convinced your shivering form to return home to rest with a Taehyung shaped hole in your heart.
"It'll be okay. He'll be okay. He always is."
A phone call to your dad revealed he hadn't returned home that night; so where did he go exactly?
The weight of that question sits heavy in your chest as you sit backstage at the theatre, staring into your own vacant eyes in the dressing room mirror.
It's opening night. The show is due to start in fifteen minutes. Your lips are painted a deep shade of red, hair backcombed to perfection by one of the makeup artists. Beneath the harsh lights of the exposed bulbs that line the mirror, you look almost unrecognisable.
Confident, strong, successful.
Anyone would say your dreams had come true, or something sappy to that effect. But even as you sit among the hustle and bustle of the costume team and breathe in the fragrance of perfume and powder blush, you couldn't feel further away from the New York version of yourself if you tried.
Staring back at you is a reflection of the shy, terrified girl from Ocean City you worked so hard to forget. Yet here she is, mind whirring with worries for her brother instead of the lines she should be rehearsing to death before curtain call.
This should be your big moment. One which you will remember forever. But all you want to do right now is hold Taehyung close like you used to and tell him you're sorry and that you won't leave him again.
"Y/N!" You're snapped out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You cover it with your own, instantly eased somewhat when you glance up and lock eyes with Jungkook in the mirror.
"Y/N, I found him."
"What?!" You jump to your feet, chair scraping obscenely. It draws the eyes of the people around you who quickly register Jungkook's polite smile as their cue to shuffle out of the dressing room and leave you two to talk. "Where is he? I need to talk to him—"
"He's not coming."
"What?"
Jungkook sinks into the chair beside you, forehead creased. He runs a hand through his hair and momentarily you catch a glimpse of the old Jungkook. The Jungkook that always took care of his best friend Taehyung.
"I...I gave him a ticket for the show tonight and told him to come. To see how much this really means to you...but—"
Your finger nails press half moons into your palms. "But what, Kook?"
"He was already leaving for Ocean City."
A sob wracks your frame. "Do you think he hates me?"
Jungkook's arms engulf you before the first tear can roll down your cheek, his chin tucking perfectly into the cleft of your shoulder. "Of course not, he's just...he's hurting right now."
"I can't lose him — not like this, Kook..."
"Shh. It'll all be okay."
You jump back and start to pace. "But it's not okay! What he said last night is true!"
Jungkook sucks in a breath. "What?"
Your knees buckle and you crumple. You can hardly breathe, shame washing over you as you admit the truth for the first time.
"I caused the accident! I'm the reason my mom's...she's..."
Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder, voice soothing. "What are you talking about?"
"The night of the accident she got a call from some big buck director. She was cast in this huge movie. Her big break." You're speaking to fast, but Jungkook nods to tell you he's listening.
"So she told Taehyung and I we were leaving for New York that night. And we were packing our bags before my dad got home and...and I said I wasn't coming. I didn't wanna leave Ocean City behind."
"I kicked and cried and said I didn't want to go, so her and Taehyung took off by themselves and that's when they got into the crash. She was upset and going too fast. It was all because of me." You start to sob. You've never admitted this to anyone before. Not even yourself. It tears your heart in two to say it out loud. "I'm the reason Taehyung's broken."
"You can't think like that." Jungkook clasps your face in his hands, thumb wiping away a stray tear. He looks scared, but his voice stays calm and convincing. "What happened was an accident. You were a kid. None of this is your fault."
"That's why Taehyung must hate me so much." You choke. "I'm doing what mom always wanted to, but she never had the chance because of me."
"Y/N?" A crew member steps into the room awkwardly with a cough. "I'm sorry to interrupt but the show is about to start. The audience is getting restless."
"Go. I'll take care of Taehyung, okay?" Jungkook pulls you to your feet, engulfing you in a final hug before he pushes you towards the stage entrance at the small of your back. "You're needed out there. Show them what you're made of."
Your eyes widen. This can't be happening. Not now.
"I...I can't."
"You can." Jungkook grabs your face and captures your lips, hard. It tastes salty with tears. "You're my star remember?"
"I love you." You whisper when you pull back, fingers reaching for him weakly as a costume designer hurries you towards the door.
"I love you too." Jungkook calls. His smile is the last thing you see before the door slams shut and there's no going back. "Now go break a leg, pretty!"
Particles of dust float in and out of your vision beneath the blinding stage lights.
Everything feels different from side stage. Your heart races as you press your ear to the velvet curtain separating you from the world, listening to the hubbub of laughing children and chattering adults filtering into the theatre. You imagine them taking their seats, buying icecream from the vendors, alive with anticipation.
The lights dim. You hear the director behind you, shouting something about places please! but it's like you're underwater, limbs weighted as you move like a ghost to your position for the opening number.
Your palms are clammy and you wipe them on your dress.
Show starting in 5...
Your legs turn to jelly. You close your eyes and try to calm your racing thoughts.
4...
Taehyung. Is he okay? Why didn't he come tonight?
3...
Shit! What was your opening line again? Goddamnit, Y/N, think!
2...
Mom. Would she be proud?
1...
You open your eyes.
The curtain is gone, and a pair of hands pushes you out into the harsh white spotlight. You shield your eyes with your fingers, heart dropping when you look up and find hundreds of eyes staring. Staring right at you.
It's like you're on the edge of a cliff, about to dive into the cool water below. Or fall.
Everything starts to blur. You're a teenager again, stood on the stage at the Crestmont. Panic rises like bile in your throat, and you don't know whether to scream or to run.
Run. Run. Run.
Your mouth opens, then closes. There's an awkward cough from the audience. Words run your mind in circles, but none of them are right, and before they can reach your lips they evaporate on your tongue.
Your panicked eyes roam the sea of seats that zoom in and out of focus. Your knees buckle, and you're sure you are going to pass out right here in front of everyone, but then your eyes meet a familiar pair of brown ones that makes the room stop spinning for a moment.
Jungkook. He's smiling at you, fingers crossed in his lap. There's not a trace of nerves in his gaze as he nods for you to go ahead.
I believe in you.
Just then the door to the theatre flies open and every head in the audience turns towards the darkly clothed figure shuffling through the aisles, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's until he reaches the empty seat beside your boyfriend.
He lets down his hood, shakes free a head of blonde hair that's still damp from the rain. He's out of breath, like he ran here.
Taehyung.
Your brother looks up at you, frozen in place, and his eyes soften. He flashes you a thumbs up and his lips curl around the four words you needed to hear.
You can do this.
And just like that, the panic disappears. The words come flooding back, and your body flies into action, moving across the stage
You forget all about the fear, and the anxiety, and Taehyung and the Crestmont. For now it's just you and the stage, together in harmony.
And you've never felt more alive than when you take your final bow and the crowd roars to life, just like you always imagined it would.
Your jaw hurts from smiling, and before you know it you're crying. Because when you squint against the theatre lights, you see Taehyung and Jungkook in the front row, holding each other and shouting your name.
Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!
"Hey! Be careful!"
The bouquet of congratulatory geraniums cradled in your arms gets crushed between your body and your brother's. He practically tackled you as soon as you entered the dressing room, carried on the cheering shoulders of the other cast and crew members.
"Holy shit." Taehyung holds you at arms length. His eyes are ringed red around the edges. "You were amazing, Y/N."
"You really think so?" Tears start to well and you're so happy to see him that you throw your arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you came, Tae."
"Yeah. You were just like her." He smiles. "Just like mom."
You share a small, sad smile. You've heard those words all your life but it feels different when it comes from Taehyung.
Jungkook pops his head into the room. He catches your eye over Taehyung's shoulder, and flashes you a small smile when he sees you cradling him in your arms.
Talk to him. He mouths, and you're suddenly reminded of why Taehyung came here in the first place.
"Hey listen—"
"Taehyung—"
You both start to talk, bursting into easy laughter when the other stops, seemingly hit with the same idea at the same time.
"You go first." You smile, encouragingly.
"Okay." He pulls you over to the couch. "I'm just...I'm sorry for storming out last night. I shouldn't have come here and expected you to help me—"
"No, stop. I'm sorry." You place a hand over his. "I want to help." You hold an arm out to Jungkook, who crosses the room and slides his hand into yours. "We want to help. We want to save the Crestmont."
Taehyung's eyes bulge. His voice drops to a whisper. "Really?"
"You were right. The Crestmont was mom's place."
You think about how it felt to be out there on the stage, in front of a crowd cheering your name. The excitement, the exhilaration. Your first stage.
The Crestmont is your mom's first stage. It's where she felt those same emotions for the first time. You can't let it be demolished. Not for anything.
"She deserves a legacy. We can't let them tear it down. I don't know how yet, but we'll save it."
"Thank you." A tear streaks his cheek, and his arms pull you and Jungkook into a tight bear hug.
"Thank you. For showing me what really matters, Tae." You whisper. "Let's do this together, okay?"
"For mom."
Taehyung holds out his pinky finger, and you link yours with his.
"For mom."
Where things go wrong.
Six months later.
Every second that passes is marked by a deafening tick from the kitchen clock.
Jungkook was supposed to be home 10 minutes ago. You're sat alone at the dinner table, a carefully presented meal for two spread across your mom's old polka dot table cloth. You even lit candles.
With a sigh you drop your chin into your hand, absentmindedly pushing your spaghetti around the dish while your eyes remain trained to the front door that will open any moment.
To be honest, it's been months since you and Jungkook shared a meal together. He spends most of his nights in his office, hunched over his laptop staring at the blinking cursor on some script he'll never finish. And ever since Jungkook's big script got rejected and he fell into a slump of no work, he had to get a job at a local convenience store all day for some spare cash to get you through the month.
You know he hates it. He hates the rude customers and how he can never shower the smell of grease out of his hair.
You know the bickering that turned into arguing that turned into fighting was just a result of his restless aggravation at being shot down too many times. Of watching his dream slip right through his fingers.
But you haven't exactly been as understanding as you should have been. You're overworked too, with the play, and The Crestmont, and you hate how easy it was to accept sleeping apart and missing dinner dates.
So you texted him to tell him you were making dinner tonight. A cease fire of sorts, or maybe just a feeble attempt at glueing back together the cracks that have appeared between you recently with pasta sauce and meatballs.
But he's late. Again.
And it makes you wonder whether there was any point in trying.
"Y/N?"
A gravelly voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Keys jangle onto the counter, shoes are slipped from feet and thrown into the storage cupboard with the creaky door.
"I'm in here." Your voice sounds meek, but you straighten and muster up a smile. To show at least one of you is making an effort.
Jungkook appears in the doorway, clad in his ugly traffic cone orange uniform. His shoulders are slumped, bangs limply stuck to his forehead. He looks tired, exhausted.
"What's all this?" He nods disinterestedly towards your untouched homemade buffet before heading to the sink to fix himself a glass of water.
"Dinner." You cough. He stiffens. "Remember?"
"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flash with something close to guilt momentarily, but then he smoothes it out. "Yeah. Dinner."
"It's okay, you're not too late. We can just heat this up in the microwave—"
"I already ate, Y/N." The glass in his hand slams onto the counter a little too loudly. "At the store."
You can't hide the way your face drops.
"Please." You whisper. "For me?"
Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, unblinking, before he exhales shakily and pulls out the seat opposite you.
"What's on the menu?" He asks, hands already grabbing for the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table without so much as a glance at the food you worked so hard to prepare.
"Pasta."
"Right."
An uncomfortable silence settles. Jungkook nibbles at a meatball, and you suddenly feel too sick to the stomach to keep anything down.
You jump when Jungkook's fork clatters to the table. He wipes pasta sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin and you're sure you can see a slight tremor in his grasp.
"There's something I need to tell you."
His words ring out into the deafening silence that shrouds the apartment. You train your eyes to the candle in the middle of the table that flickers back and forth and carefully place down your own cutlery.
"Should I be worried?"
"No...I mean, I don't know. Maybe." Jungkook waves his hands around and when his eyes meet yours they're distant. Like the table that separates you spans oceans. "Just promise not to freak out."
"I'm not promising anything. Why are you looking at me like that?"
He shifts and the cheap flat pack dining chairs you bought when you moved in creak like they always do. "I...I got a movie deal. They loved the script I told them I've been working on and they want me to direct it."
Your heart fills with something sweet; pride. Even despite your downs recently this is still incredible news. You knew your boyfriend should be ecstatic...so why is he staring intently at the table cloth like it killed his whole family? "That's awesome, Kook. So what's the problem?"
"I gave them a different script."
Something shifts in the air. You hold your breath.
"Huh?"
"The script. The one you told me to burn before we came to New York. The one about you...your life."
Your blood runs cold and it's like your frozen. Just searching through the never ending blackness behind Jungkook's eyes that fails to falter, no matter how hard you pinch your inner thigh and hope you're about to wake up from a bad dream.
"You wouldn't." Your voice sounds strained and Jungkook doesn't even flinch. "You...I don't believe you."
"I'm sorry." He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's just that they hated the first one and I wanted this deal so bad. It's a once in a lifetime chance Y/N, don't you see?"
The boy staring back at you isn't the sweet and sensitive Jungkook from Ocean City or the strong and passionate man from New York. His words get all mixed up in your head as you repeat them over and over and it's as if you don't even know him at all. All you can feel now is betrayal. And just like that all the anger that has been building inside you for months explodes.
"So my life is just a fucking plot for one of your indie movies, Jungkook?"
"It's always your life isn't it? Never mine." He slams his hands on the table hard enough to make your insides shake. "Ever since we came to New York I've supported you, sat back and watched as you achieved all your dreams. And it hurts, Y/N. To come home from my dead end job, and write another goddamn script that nobody wants to even read."
"I came to New York because of you!" You don't even realise you're crying until you taste the hot salty tears that won't seem to stop. "I came here so you could make it big! You're the one who encouraged me to audition for the play in the first place!"
"God, are you really that naive? Don't you see? I came to New York because I saw how much it meant to you." Jungkook lowers his voice, and there's something in his words that makes your heart twist. Pain. His eyes look watery and you long to reach out for him. Like the skin on skin contact will somehow make all of this okay. "And not once have you ever considered how it might feel for me to sit back in your shadow."
"So that's what this is? Jealousy?" You shake your head and get up from the table and turn to leave, but Jungkook grasps your wrist.
"Why can't you be happy for me?"
"I am happy for you Jungkook. And I always will be." Your heart softens and you're reminded of the boyfriend you know. The boyfriend you love. You want to believe he's in there somewhere so you place your hand over his, and for a second he looks hopeful. "But this was never your story to tell. That's what hurts."
He drops your arm, gaze cold and distant. "Then I guess that's it then."
"What?"
The room starts to spin.
"If you can't accept my decision to go ahead with the project then I guess we can't do this anymore."
"This?" You whisper.
"Us."
"Jungkook...Are you saying we're over?"
He drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."
"You don't know?" You chuckle but it's hollow, empty. "You don't know if you love me any more?"
Jungkook's face drops and he lurches towards you, but you step back.
"No, shit Y/N I didn't mean it like that!" He looks scared. "I was just angry and it slipped out."
"Don't." His arms reach for you again but the brush of his fingertips feels scalding hot, wrong. "Don't fucking touch me."
"I'm sorry..."
"Don't lie to me Jungkook." Your vision is blurred with tears as you rip open the closet and yank out a suitcase. "You're not sorry. I was never your muse. I was just a stepping stool to the top."
"Where are you going?" Jungkook's crying now too. It comes out as a sob.
"Home." You say as you rip open your shared closet door and start throwing your things into the case. "I'm going home. Where I belong."
"I can't lose you like this. Please." He reaches for your wrist again but you're already half way to the door.
"Too late." You say. "I'm going home. And I'm never coming back."
The familiar scent of burned popcorn and candyfloss soothes you as you creep through the backdoor of the Crestmont. It always had a broken hinge which opened just enough for a body to squeeze through. Seems not a lot has changed since you left Ocean City.
It's dark inside. Silent too, without the popcorn machine running and the movie trailers playing on LED screens. You don't know what you expected. It's gone midnight by the time you get back to Ocean City, but you don't want to go home just yet.
Comfort washes over you as you run your fingers over the gilded edges of the counter, and slip beneath the hatch on auto pilot. It feels strange to be back here without the starched shirt and bow tie you used to hate. You've swapped out worn sneakers for heels that click against the tiles and you've performed on stages for crowd's bigger than the Crestmont's but here and now, you feel like yourself. Even though everything in your life has changed, you're still the same small town girl underneath it all.
Without thinking your legs carry you to the wall of fame. The faces smile up at you, like they're saying welcome back.
"Hey mom," You whisper, stopping momentarily in front of her portrait. You stared at it for so long as a kid that you have every detail committed to memory but seeing it up this close makes your breath hitch. "It's me."
With a sigh you force yourself past into the hall. Your hands tremble as you push open the door to the theatre. It's just how you remember it, sparkling gold and red velvet and mystery. But there's yellow tape strung up across all the seats and a sign has been propped up on the stage, red glaring letters burning a hole in your heart as you read them.
DANGER. DUE FOR DEMOLISHMENT. STAY AWAY.
All you can do is let your legs buckle, back sliding down the wall as you hug your knees to your chest and let out a throaty sob that echoes from the high ceiling.
When did everything go so wrong? You must be cursed. Everything you touch gets destroyed.
"Y/N?"
The lights flicker on, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. You wipe your tears, but that doesn't stop them from coming.
"Over here."
Your voice is small but a few seconds later Taehyung's face appears from behind one of the velvet seats. His eyes soften when he sees you curled up in the corner.
"What are you doing down here?" He clambers over the seat to join you, his long legs folded awkwardly in the small space.
"Having a one man party." You snort and point to your tear stained cheeks.
"Are you okay?" His hand covers yours and the contact makes you jump.
"Yes..." You sniff. He raises a brow. "No. Jungkook broke up with me."
Taehyung chokes. "What?!"
"I mean, we fought and then he...he said we were over." Your heart stabs painfully but you shrug. "So I came here. Didn't know where else to go."
He places an encouraging hand on your shoulder. "Listen...I know I haven't always been there for you when I should've. Hell, you always took care of me and I never even asked how you were doing." He offers a small smile. "But I'm here now. And you can tell me anything. If...if you want to."
A few seconds tick by in silence. You try to form a sentence but everything just comes back to the same three words.
"I miss mom." You blurt.
It echoes through the theatre, and you can practically hear the mermaids and the cupids painted on the ceiling gasp. It surprises you too, the combination of grief and relief that washes over you at finally admitting it.
"I know." Taehyung pulls you into his chest, lips whispering against your hair as you let out a sob and it's like all the sadness and denial is rushing out of you like a faucet, filling the whole room up like a water tank. You're terrified of the moment it gets too full, and you stop being able to breathe. "But you're a lot like her, y'know."
"That's exactly the problem!" Your words come out as a yell and it makes you both jump. "Everyone always says I look like her, I talk like her, I act like her. And I hated it for the longest time because I hated her for leaving us!"
"But without even realising it I became her, Tae. I did what I always said I wouldn't and became selfish. I hurt you, and Jungkook and even the Crestmont."
"That's not true."
"It is! And the worst part is I don't even hate her any more. I need her. To hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. But she isn't here!"
"What does this have to do with Jungkook?"
"Jungkook wrote a script. A long time ago. About mom. And you and I. And everything that happened." You swallow, Taehyung's eyebrow raises though he doesn't look at all surprised by this information, nor as horrified as you that a record of your bleak shortcomings exists for anyone to read. "He got a movie deal. That's why we fought."
Taehyung hums. "You don't want him to make the movie?"
"It's not that I...I want to be happy for him. But I can't." You choke. "It's too painful. Remembering."
Accepting.
"When I said you were a lot like mom, I meant that you are headstrong." Taehyung pauses. "I felt that way once too. Like I hated mom and the goddamn world for taking her too soon. But in the end, the only person I hated was myself. Like however hard I tried I could never get over her, and all the pain I was pushing down into a dark place kept taunting me through the nightmares." He shivers, and you grip his hand tighter. "But one day I realised I don't have to be afraid of that pain any more. That pain is a part of me. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win."
"So what did you do?"
"I let myself feel it . I faced it. The only way I could let mom go was to stop running away." He pats your shoulder. "You need to set the girl in that script free, so you can move on."
And just like that, you're swimming...up, up, up, until you reach the surface of the water tank and you can take a heaving breath for the first time.
You throw your arms around his neck. It feels weird to hug him like this, but it's nice. "I missed you, Tae. Thank you.”
"I didn't do anything." He says. "The strength is inside you, you just need to find it. Just like you need to stop holding on to the past and let the new you shine for once."
You shake your head. "I need to talk to Jungkook. I don't know why I stormed off like that and..." You trail off. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"
Taehyung grins. "I didn't. I got called in to sort some paperwork and I noticed the back door ajar. Good thing it was you and not some crazy with a baseball bat, right?"
"At this time?" You nod to his still pyjama clad state. "Is it important?"
"Y/N," He laughs lightly. There's excitement shining in his eyes. "Someone just bought the Crestmont."
You scramble to your knees. "What?"
"We're staying open, and I get to keep my job."
And then you're hugging again, and laughing and crying because the Crestmont is going to be okay. You're going to be okay.
"That's incredible, Tae! Who is it? Who bought the Crestmont?"
"I don't know, it was an anonymous transaction. But the guy said he would be here...." He glances at his wrist watch, and as he does, the door creaks open. "Around now."
"Hello? Anyone here?" A familiar voice calls out.
"Jungkook?" Both of your jaws drop as you poke up from behind the seats. Sure enough your heart flutters when you see him, all wind swept and out of breath like he ran here.
"I thought you might be here." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"
The car ride to the pier was mostly silent. Jungkook borrowed his dad's old beat up truck -- it was that or his old bike with the pegs on the back -- and it still smelled like leather and petrol like it used to.
Everything about Ocean City is the same as you remember it. The pier stands strong atop the rocky sand, sea air deliciously fresh as it fills your lungs. The rolling waves shimmer like gold dust below the wisps of pink clouds that greet the rising sun. The beach is a peaceful view at this time. No tourists, all of yesterdays sandcastles swallowed by the sea spray. It took a couple hours to work through the paperwork so by now it's early morning — 5:30am according to your phone lockscreen.
It's chilly, and your skin is covered with goose bumps even despite Jungkook's suede jacket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. But you don't mind.
You've missed this. You've missed Ocean City.
"No ice cream, I'm afraid." The breeze ruffles Jungkook's hair as he emerges from the fairground and settles beside you with his legs poking through the rails. He flashes you an apologetic smile. "I guess the parlour doesn't open until 9..."
You feel a pang in your chest. Being here is like a serious case of deja vu. Countless hours spent in this very spot, eating vanilla scoops with rainbow sprinkles beside Jungkook used to be so normal. When did you grow so far apart that you're surprised he even remembers?
"Jungkook..." You swallow hard when you meet his eyes, hands longing to reach out and stroke the stream of sunrise on his cheek that makes his dark eyes sparkle. "We...we need to talk. About everything."
There's a moment of silence filled only by the calls of seagulls greeting the morning before he speaks. "I sold the script."
He sounds nervous. Like he's not quite sure what your reaction will be.
You swallow. "And you used the money to buy the Crestmont?"
"Yeah." He says matter of factly, scratching a phantom itch at his nape. "I guess I did."
"Why?" Your voice is small.
"I can't loose you, Y/N." He murmurs. "Just like you can't loose your mom. The Crestmont was her everything. But you are mine. And loosing the Crestmont would be loosing a piece of you, and I couldn't stand that."
The breeze ruffles his hair as he reaches for your hand and links your fingers and squeezes hard. You don't make any move to stop him. You know what it means, so you squeeze back and return the sentiment. I'm sorry.
Before you can stop yourself you lurch forward, arms curling around his neck and it's like coming home. His hands pull you flush to his chest, hearts beating in sync and you know everything is going to be okay now.
"Thank you." You whisper against his nape. A tear rolls down your cheek and soaks into his collar and before you know it you're blubbering. "Thank you so much, Kook."
"You aren't mad?" His voice is muffled but you can hear the quirk of his brow.
"Mad? No..no..." You lean back and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "But what about the movie? And your dream to be a director and--"
Jungkook grabs your shoulders. His own eyes are glassy as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.
"That was never what mattered to me, Y/N. Not even a little bit. There's one reason I went to New York and it's the same reason I came back to Ocean City tonight. You."
"But--"
"No but's. As long as we're together, I'm already living my dream." His lips turn up into a smile, his eyes tracing your face like it's the first time and he can't get enough. "And I never ever want to wake up."
You shift in your spot to face him properly for the first time, and emotion hits you like a tidal wave. It's like all of a sudden you realize how stupid you've been; to fight with the man before you, a man who only knows kindness, about the trivial when the things that mattered the most were always right here, in front of you. The things that mattered most were always in Ocean City.
You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean up so your lips are inches apart. His eyes fall shut naturally, and you can't help but laugh with what you can only describe as one thing: happiness.
"I love you." You whisper against his lips. A warm palm cups your jaw and closes the distance between them and you're almost too lost in the way Jungkook's kiss takes your breath away to hear his response.
"I love you too."
"Sooo..." You bite your lip with a coy smile when Jungkook pulls away, the blush upon his cheeks scarlet beneath the sun which is rapidly rising. "I take it we're no longer broken up?"
"Well duh," He swats you playfully. "You think I'd do all this just to dump your ass?"
"Hey!" You pout. "I dumped your ass."
Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh.
"Besides," He glances out over the horizon nonchalantly and shrugs. "I'm gonna need help if I'm gonna start my own film company and run the Crestmont."
Your jaw drops. "A what now?"
"A film company." He explains. "A different type of film company, right here in Ocean City. For the outcasts like me who have a vision that even the biggest names in New York can't see yet." He smiles, so big and bright it makes your heart leap. "I'm gonna show them, Y/N. And everything I need to do it is right here in Ocean City."
"I know you will. I never doubted you for a second." You take his hand and link your fingers, squeezing hard. "And you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."
Epilogue.
"Just keep your eyes shut!"
"I already know where we're going, so why can't I look?" You laugh, attempting and failing to tug Jungkook's interlocked fingers away from your eyes.
"Shush, it's a surprise! Just roll with it."
A surprise. That's what Jungkook said earlier too when he woke you up at the crack of dawn by throwing a dress at your head and telling you to meet him outside in the truck in 10 minutes or else.
By the time you pulled up into the familiar parking lot of your not-so-mysterious destination, the sky was already aflame with the glow of morning skimming the horizon, and Jungkook practically leapt out of the truck, palms unusually sweaty as he grasped your hand and pulled you towards the path quicker than your feet could carry you.
"What's the hurry, Kook?" You get out between heavy breaths, quads burning as the path gets steeper beneath your feet.
Come to think of it, your boyfriend has been acting strangely all week. Like hiding things behind his back when you walk into a room or talking in hushed whispers on the phone to Taehyung when he thought you were sleeping.
"You'll see." The path levels out and you stop. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, chin tucked into the cleft of your shoulder like a perfect puzzle piece. "Okay. Now you can look."
You round the corner, heart racing when your eyes flutter open and your vision is filled with a sea of yellow flowers. Your place.
The meadow is just how you left it, tall grass and sunny blooms dancing beneath the rays of morning sun peeking out from between the clouds. A warmth spreads through your chest and you both laugh when Gureum lets out an excited yelp, before bounding off between the stems playfully.
"I think the little guy wants us to follow him." Jungkook raises a brow and throws you a knowing shrug.
Excitement flutters in your stomach like a butterfly trapped between cupped palms. "How could I refuse?"
Fingers interlinked, you part the sunflowers and jog after the ball off fluff bouncing across the meadow, the breeze cool and forgiving as it ruffles the strands of hair that billow behind you.
Eventually you reach the clearing, and Gureum wags his tail at you proudly when you stoop down to scratch him behind his ears.
The sun reflects in Jungkook's eyes, turning them a warm golden brown. "Turn around."
You spin on your heels with a questioning glance. "Why?" That's when you see it. The spot where everything began. The tree where Jungkook kissed you all those years ago has bloomed with fragrant blossoms, and twinkle lights glow like tiny stars around it's branches. A blanket is laid out in the sun flecked shade beneath it, littered with feather cushions and lanterns and a trail of sunflower petals that begin at your feet.
"You did this?" You take his chin in your palms, face beaming despite the tears that have started to blur your vision. "Oh, Kook."
"Surprise." He smiles knowingly, grabbing you from behind and spinning you round and round until you both land with a soft thump in the middle of the outdoor cushion fort. "You haven't even seen the best part yet." He says with a nod to his right.
It's then that you notice the white sheet that's strung up a couple meters away between the trunks of two trees, Jungkook's vintage projector set up in front of it.
"What is this?" You ask, bewilderment evident in your voice.
"Gureum, would you do the honours?" Jungkook chuckles, extending a finger to point at a remote that your puppy obediently picks up with his teeth and drops into your lap with a wag of his tail.
Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and takes a deep breath, like he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Go ahead. Press play and find out."
Your head shakes fondly, but your fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the PLAY button. You press it and the projector starts turning, a light flicking on at the top that makes a grainy image appear on the sheet.
The first scene is you. A teenager, dancing through the sunflower field, laughter spilling from your lips. The first time you hung out. And then it switches. You, again. Cleaning up a spill at the Crestmont, unaware of the camera. You. Paint in your hair as Jungkook chases you around the apartment in New York. You. Tears in your eyes as you hold baby Gureum for the first time. You. Asleep on Jungkook's shoulder on the subway, the camera panning to his face which lights up in a big grin, lips mouthing three words.
I love you.
Tears are hot on your cheeks, laughing as you remember the good moments and the bad, the funny and the sad, all immortalized forever through Jungkook's eyes.
The film fades out, and you throw your arms around your boyfriends neck. He chuckles when you tackle him to the ground, throwing a leg over his lap so that you can lean down and capture his lips between yours in a kiss that says all the words you want to say but you don't know how to. I love you too.
"I take it you liked it, then?" Jungkook says coyly, thumb stroking your cheek.
"It was beautiful Jungkook." You place your hand over his. "Now I know why you're always goddamn filming me."
"What can I say? You're my muse."
"Shut up." You punch him playfully. "You're gonna make me blush."
It's Jungkook's cheeks that flush pink. "Actually..." He starts to sit up, fumbling around in his back pocket. "There's something else."
"Oh?"
He clears his throat. "The first time we came to this place I knew I loved you. Back then, I said I wanted to show you what I found most beautiful. And it was you. It's always been you." He takes your hand, grip tight. "When we met we were just kids with big dreams. We might be older now but heck -- I still don't know what I'm doing. All I know is dreams come and go but you never left. You always stayed by my side. Which is why I want to promise you something."
"What, Kook?" You manage to whisper. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your ears. Is this what you think it is?
Jungkook swallows hard, eyes boring into yours.
"That I'll go wherever you go. New York, across oceans, up mountains -- you name it. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. So that's why I wanted to ask..." His fingers tremble as he produces a tiny black box, flicking it open to reveal a ring that sparkles see through in the sun. "Y/N, will you marry me?"
"Oh Jungkook," You throw your arms around his neck, overcome with emotion now as you capture his lips with your own. "Of course I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask."
He lets out a sigh of relief, and then he's spinning you around in circles until you're both dizzy with love and belly laughter.
"I love you." He whispers, eyes shiny. His hand gently grasps your wrist as he slides the ring onto your finger.
You've heard him say it a hundred times before, but this time it's different. This time it's forever. Your heart flutters.
"I love you too, Kook."
Where there are new beginnings
Ocean City is the same as it always was.
You wake up each morning to the distant crash or waves, and you fall asleep each night to the tinkling fairground music that makes your heart sing. Tourists come and go, flooding the casinos and eating churros on the beach.
The Crestmont is doing better than ever. Once Taehyung took over as owner, the theatre became the heart of the city, attracting visitors from near and far to see the renowned plays directed by none other than Jeon Jungkook, the most sought after playwright and filmographer in all of the East Coast.
And then there's you. Ever since you starred in one of Jungkook's plays, about a girl from a seaside city moving to New York with big dreams, there's been no shortage of movie deals and acting opportunities thrown your way.
But in the end, you always find yourself coming back to Ocean City.
Tonight the Crestmont reopens for business after some much needed renovations. Taehyung is throwing a party, and there will be plenty of big Hollywood faces attending to see the brand new theatre and the updated __.
But one thing will always remain the same. The picture of your mom hung in the gallery. Her big smile is the heart of the Crestmont, greeting each and every visitor with pride.
And in the empty frame at the end of the wall of fame, there's a new picture.
You. Smiling, with your hair over one shoulder, just how you imagined. And beside you is Jungkook, with his arm wrapped around your waist and Taehyung holding Gureum and making a silly peace sign behind your head.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
Okay so hi if you’re still here!! I decided to put this at the end because I didn’t wanna spoil the ending so please send love to @brekkiejeon !! They sent me the request for the ending of this fic all the way back in January and i’m trash and took like 7 months to finish writing it so i hope you enjoyed it even so lovely !!! <3 thank you for the request and sorry for the wait, this one really got me creative lol!
Also I’d like to dedicate the smut in this fic to @atastefulwonderland because I know you love some good ole JK loving!! Hehe, ily~~
Also lemme know if this was bad because I never usually give OC so much backstory because I want it to be as relatable to the reader as poss obvi but these characters wrote themselves lmao like i’m just the writer i had no control okay???? I just do what these mfkers say. LOL.
#bts#happy jk day#bts smut#jungkook#jungkook smut#ksmutclub#smutcentralnet#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts imagine#btswriterscollective#btsguild#kwordsmiths#bangtanarmynet#thebtstown#my writing#fic: wywg
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How To Keep Your Demon Entertained At A Walmart
Congratulations! You've earned yourself a few demon date days up in the human world! But what's this? You have errands to run? Well, we all know these demons can't function without you for more than five minutes....but an entity that's thousands of years old gets a little bored and restless in the hyper-market wasteland of a Walmart...
Nowdateables: coming soon!
Lucifer
if you don't want him getting passive-aggressive about how you should've done this before he got here (yeesh Lucifer some of us have jobs or responsibilities that we can't shove onto our siblings for a day to see our precious mc) then you better be ready to make conversation
definitely not the type to allow you to even think about sending him off so you can get stuff done. he's not even that bothersome, so he'll get offended if you even think about it, but also wouldn't you rather keep him around to reach the top shelves?
basically if you don’t want to keep Lucifer entertained, you have to be the one he needs to keep entertained
do that thing where you roll around on the cart like a skateboard and he’ll be trying to put a stop to it immediately
put random things in your cart that he knows you don’t need and let him take it out and put it back where it belongs
stare him in the eyes as you put that party size brownie mix in your cart then speed walk away. he will come up from an aisle in front of you and silently pluck the box out and take it back. he will come back to see seven boxes of corn dogs and momentarily considers breaking up with you
does not need a treat as a bribe, but will definitely forgive your antics if you bought something from the bakery to snack on as you go home (especially if you did it without him noticing, considering the eagle eye he’s had to have on your cart the whole time)
just don’t have the nerve to complain about the crumbs in your car after that
Mammon
I would say to ask him to scan the area looking for dropped coins on the floor but he'd probably knock down shelves trying to look beneath them so....maybe don't?
also please keep an eye on him or he WILL be shoplifting. human jail is (probably?) a step up from demon jail but like. let's aim for no jail, ok mammon?
instead, give him a pre-portioned off list and tell him it's like a scavenger hunt. he'll scamper off to explore the walmart and his duty to keeping you happy has like a 70% chance of preventing him from stealing anything too important
make sure the stuff you put on the list is kind of hard to find but not too hard. you wanna keep him occupied without risking him freaking out because he can't find this super specific spice you want
either that or only make a really vague list like. tell him you need bread and he'll stand in the bread aisle trying to remember if you like white bread or whole wheat bread until you come to retrieve him
bring money for a treat. if it's near st patrick's day go in the seasonal aisle and hope they have chocolate gold coins
he's not too hard to deal with, but figuring out what's sneaky enough to put on the list is a chore of its own so going by yourself is less work anyway
Leviathan
taking him to walmart was your final fatal mistake
seriously? he has to go in? you could have just left him in the car!!
you take him intending to have him pick out some normie snacks (since you don't have any limited edition whatever-the-fucks in your house right now) but he looks so uncomfortable you make a detour towards the games
just leave him to play on the trial device and go pick out a few things for him to choose from when you circle back to him
arguable the least stressful trip for you until you have to wade through the pool of kids surrounding him and watching him play when it's time to pay and leave
you won't have to buy him anything but you will have to wait for him to finish the level he's on before he lets you drag him away. and he'll probably complain a little bit in the car about how terrible it was to go in in the first place, which a treat would help minimize.
so i guess just pick your battles with this one?
Satan
satan is a refined individual with startling amounts of self control. he does not need pointed in the direction of the books. he can entertain himself on a grocery run.
point him in the direction of the books anyway
their selection is always small (because it’s a walmart not a bookstore) and half of it is children’s anyway so he’ll probably wander off real quick
satan doesn’t need to be entertained, no, he’s past that. he needs to be kept on a leash
you have no way of knowing where he’ll end up. sometimes he’ll be somewhere that makes sense like in the stationary but sometimes you’ll find him staring at the paint samples like it’s a masterpiece in a museum or over by the fishing hooks reading up about local fish populations and how to get a fishing license and you’re just like “???? i’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes???? don’t give me facts about salmon???”
will ask you why you need to buy tires in the same place you get your food. isn’t that suspicious? what do they specialize in?
answer him only with the word “bargains” and he’ll stop asking once he understands or gets annoyed
you don’t need to buy him a treat unless he finds a book he wants. then come on mc, you dragged him out here and you’re NOT gonna let him get this one thing??
Asmodeus
he's fine with making an errand run with you actually!
he's up on the human world for you baby, just make sure to hold his hand so he feels appreciated
asmo is far too entertained with the concept of a walmart for his own good. don't go with him if you want it to be a quick trip because he'll want to go around the whole store
thinks at first that it's kind of nifty that humans just dump all the things they need in one store but is quickly turned off from the novelty when he realizes how short the distance is between the clothes and the nearest package of raw chicken
even if the selection is small, he will want to spend time in the makeup department. probably goes on rants about how he can’t imagine this quality of product is good for your skin
will still buy nail polish though if you let him
overall? not terrible to have around, but make sure you don’t have anywhere to be in the next hour when you take him
Beelzebub
pack a gallon bag of cheerios like he's a toddler and get ready to fucking book it in and out of there
you know how you should never go grocery shopping when you’re hungry? what were you thinking bringing Beel around??
another brother who’s good for reaching tall shelves if you need it
Beel also has this talent where he can just list off the ingredients you need if you happen to forget your list
if you want, you can distract him momentarily by just throwing out random dishes and he’ll get the ingredients right every time (even though they’re human dishes!!) but you’ll end up giving him like five different cravings by the time you leave
only take him if you want to speedrun grocery shopping, because he will start eating food you haven’t paid for if you take too long
bring extra money for that too, just in case he gets caught :(
Belphegor
bringing belphie to walmart isn't a matter of keeping him entertained moreso than keeping him awake
which you will inevitably fail to do
so even if you only need like three things, get him a cart and let him fall into the basket
he’ll try to stay awake (and he’ll give very self-satisfied grins to the people who stare at him ((and especially the ones who say “wow i wanna do that”))) but he can only fight off his sin for so long
stop by the blankets so he can stuff a few soft things in (bc he’s gotta be uncomfortable cramped in the little basket) and he’ll make himself a tiny nest
the good news is you can put anything on top of him and he won’t complain. just don’t drop any gallons of milk on him or anything that’ll wake him up
go to a self check-out so the employees don’t yell at you
after you put your groceries in your car, just dump his ass on the pavement. he’ll forgive you if you bought him the blankets.
#this came to me in a dream and i thought it was funny#walmart is just such a weird place....#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall we date obey me#obey me swd#lucifer#mammon#leviathan#satan#asmodeus#beelzebub#belphegor#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#long post#lucifer hcs#mammon hcs#leviathan hcs#satan hcs#asmodeus hcs#beelzebub hcs#belphegor hcs#my fics#lucifer writing
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Sunlit memories (Garou x Reader)
tags: slight mentions of blood, no warnings really
words: 1.5 k
notes: this one is slightly longer than the two before bc I had to put in a lot of stuff here lol but anyways aa here it is finally! Tried making it a bit lighthearted <3
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Chapter three
After lazily opening your eyes, pain spread through your head. The blackness from your vision cleared away, leaving a fog in your mind and the painful sensation was the first thing you could register before you felt the cold brick wall you were leaning on.
What just happened? Trying to recall how you got in that position, your eyes trailed to the opposite wall, now realizing you didn’t even remember being in this alley in the first place.
“Yo, you’re awake.”
Looking over at a few large wooden crates, your focus now shifted to the silver-haired teen sitting on top of them. You didn’t even make out a response upon witnessing the injuries behind his torn, black shirt. The puzzle was coming together.
Last sight you remember before going unconscious were the heroes from that mini-market fighting the same person right in front of you now. For a moment you almost thought you were being delirious, yet those wounds only proved your suspicions. Was he the self-proclaimed “Hero Hunter” everyone has been wild about recently?
“So…” he looked at you with an awkward expression, “ you gonna go now or?”
Slightly flinching as you snapped back to reality, now you were left completely perplexed on what to do. On one hand the realization made you feel quite uneasy, but on the other you were safe for some reason, despite getting caught up in the ruckus from before.
“What happened to those guys earlier..?”
“Oh, their bodies are probably still lying face down right around the corner,” he grinned, “if no one found them already, that is.”
However after picking up your distraught expression that boastful tone faded in an instant.
“Hey, hey they’re not dead, jeez quit freaking out.”
You only frowned after giving him a small glare. Your head still ached, although not as strong from a few minutes ago. How long have you been out? Judging by the still-sunset sky it shouldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, much to your relief. The street was still deserted and silent as well.
“Well, thanks for saving my skin back there I guess…” you looked over at his injuries, staggering for a moment after standing up.
“However, you should definitely get those injuries checked out. I think I saw a hospital or something around here somewhere.”
A few seconds passed as he looked at you with a blank stare.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Dude you’re literally bleeding all over.”
“I said I’m fine!-“, he exclaimed only to flinch in pain. “-why are you so worried anyways? Just go home.”
“Talk about stubborn,” you thought to yourself.
Though, on second thought you do see a good reason why he shouldn’t. It’s almost as if you had forgotten that you witnessed him straight up thrash some A-classes. That and all the other questions that piled up still haven’t left your mind, but be as it may now wasn’t the time for overthinking. People must be pursuing him everywhere now, huh?
You leaned against the wall, still contemplating the situation. Water droplets from the roof were the only thing breaking the silence as you both stood there quiet. That is, until you got an idea.
“I don’t plan on talking you into it anymore…” you spoke with a tinge of nervousness, “but I do have some bandages at home. It’ll just be ten minutes until we get there, I give you them and you can leave. I don’t think sitting on those crates until you bleed out is really practical.”
The teen almost reflexively wanted to protest but not a single sentence came out. He really couldn’t think of anything that made your idea sound regrettable, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn’t in the best shape. You on the other hand felt almost obligated to help him out. Putting aside that shocking realization from earlier, he did watch over you after you got KO’d.
After finally jumping off the crates, he shrugged and put both hands in his pockets.
“Eh, sure.”
You gave a relieved smile before taking a look at the still empty street you were both heading for. The sky turned into shades of amaranthine and bit by bit street lights began illuminating the path. The streets nearing your house weren’t as deserted as the one you woke up in, and occasionally you had to move to a more hidden route. Fortunately you’ve been greeted by your neighborhood cat soon after, indicating the destination- your safe home.
“I don’t think you told me your real name yet, if I may know? I’m y/n by the way.”
“It’s Garou,” he responded after looking around, almost hesitantly.
“So… Why were you doing that today?” you spoke as you reached out for your keys.
“Why does it matter to you?”
“Dunno, you don’t see someone beating up heroes every day.”
Taking a quick glance around your surroundings, you opened the door at last.
“You sure like answering questions with a question, huh?” you gave a tired smile, “ah, I won’t force out any answers from you I guess.”
The lights in the hallway were already open, illuminating the other rooms, some half empty. After all you still had some work to do in the house. Making your way to your room, the bag of trash next to the wall caught your attention briefly. You couldn’t remember the reason you left off in such a hurry, not even throwing it away.
“Well, come in!” you shouted from the other room, “just don’t get any blood on the carpet please.”
But much to your amusement the on-the-outside intimidating man just stood there with a blank expression ever since you stepped into the apartment. You weren’t sure was it politeness or just plain awkwardness but it made you cackle internally.
Even so, after your call he cautiously stepped out to the living room, actually being careful not to dirty the carpet as you told. The room was pleasingly decorated, and even if he didn’t know you it simply radiated with your energy. It was oddly comfortable.
And as you finally stepped out of your room with that first-aid kit, a ring on your doorbell caught you both by surprise. You almost asked yourself whether that’s a hero in front of the door, before your memory got jogged again.
“Well shit.”
You gestured an already alert and intense Garou to step away from the door, to which he only raised an eyebrow.
“Ah…” you whispered, looking over to the side, “I kinda forgot I called a friend over.”
“You remembered just now!?”
“I was knocked out!” you complained, much to his discontent.
What were you supposed to do now? You thought to yourself as your eyes trailed from the door to the teen. The doorbell rang once again as to make the atmosphere grow even more unsteady.
“Guess we have to improvise…”
“You’re joking right?”
“If she saw a beat-up guy jumping out my window I wouldn’t hear the end of it.”
He only rolled his eyes as you went to the door to finally greet your friend, adjusting your shirt along the way.
Frankly, you felt somewhat guilty for roping him in, all bloody and bruised to socialize with your rather concerned friend. Well, who wouldn’t get a little suspicious to see a strange man in their friend’s living room. To make things even more awkward he hadn’t said more than two sentences in the past hour, not that it’s surprising.
“So-,” your friend smiled, desperately trying not to glare at the man’s injuries, “- how did you two become friends?”
“Ah, it’s from that monster incident I told you about earlier,” you smiled back.
“So that’s why he’s so bruised,” she glanced over at him sympathetically, to which he only glared at you deadpan.
“Nothing special.” He spoke in a bluntly before yawning.
“Oh, how come?”
“He delivers stuff!” you exclaimed before any other thoughts came to mind, “sometimes he comes across them there too unfortunately. Poor guy.”
As if his deadpan look couldn’t get any drier.
It was crystal clear he hates being pitied, and you desperately tried not to let out a chuckle because of the ridiculous situation. Truthfully you weren’t even nervous anymore since you let out so many laughs. And your constant teasing only made him talkative since he just had to drop something even more embarrassing for payback, making the evening even more amusing. You didn’t even notice the clock struck midnight already from all the banter.
After saying farewell to your friend, you came back to your living room to see Garou already at the window.
“Looks like you really don’t wanna use the door today huh? Well, way better now than having to explain why some bloody dude jumped out my window earlier,” you grinned, to which he scoffed.
“Pfft, yeah, yeah. Don’t drag me into any more of these things though.”
“Aw, it wasn’t that bad.”
“Well, it better not happen anymore,” he rolled his eyes before flashing a small grin.
“See ya.”
You only gave your small wave before finally closing the window. The apartment was now rather serene, contrasting all the playfulness from earlier. Yet still you couldn’t help but notice that smile caught you by surprise. Nothing like that cocky smirk in battle- this was genuine.
#feel free to tell me your thoughts 💕#garou#garou x reader#one punch man#opm#opm x reader#one punch man x reader#garou headcanons#garou x y/n#opm fanfic#garo
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to be called beautiful | d.h.
❛ do you ever miss, having someone around to love you?❜
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
SUMMARY: vigilantes!au. you push the boundaries of your relationship, and ask for a wish you know won't be given back. (or — it's late, and after another night of patrol, loneliness sets in deep.)
WARNINGS: slightly nsfw??? mentions to sex, no descriptions. it's not a sexual story, just a part of an inner monologue.
WORD COUNT: 2.6k+
NOTES: reposting this in hopes it shows up this time (pls pls pls i'm gonna cry).
i've been writing a whole other series that is a totally different writing style, but i've been trying to work out my emotions in small, focused pieces like this one when i can't focus. i might develop this into a small ficlit series of it's own, bc i think it's kinda fun — but we'll see how this goes.
THE BEAST THAT IS YOUR LONELINESS has been your burden for too long to say.
It's hold on you is a familiar ache, one you've felt for years, like a chronic tight tugging on your heart that refuses to give in no matter what you try. But you still refuse to name it for fear of coming to terms with the implications of it all. That you're really alone in this life and you're terrified of what that means and the fact that you can't have what your childhood stories promised would be yours.
Like the fool you are, you cling to the idea that it's just passing notions. You'll get over it one day. The flitting daydreams of a fairytale romance better fit for a vanilla Hallmark flick suck, but one day they won't hurt so bad. You'll numb and find a way to fill the void. And you try, you really do, pushing it down for the quick release of meaningless acts and walks of shames and cold bedsheets.
Sex is a toxic friend. You choose it's pull when your heart aches most and the loneliness begs for your breath to the point where every gasp of air is a privilege, not the bare minimum. It's not what you crave. There's no romance, no love. It's a trade and one that always leaves you feeling robbed of something you're not sure you ever even had.
You rarely remember their names. You know they probably won't remember yours. And why would they? The shudders, the whimpers, the cold moans that amount to nothing but crumbs of a supposedly passionate act only pass an hour, then they're gone. Or you're gone, if you're lonely enough to risk it. A bit of fun, a breath of pink and white and the feeling of someone pulling you closer, begging for your skin against theirs.
And then, it's all grey again. And you're alone at your apartment, washing your body free of the marks some stranger dared to press into your wilting skin, wondering what it would feel like for a lover to kiss you that same way. Running your fingers over every inch that has been caressed by so many faceless guests, trying to hold yourself in the way your foolish heart pounds for. But it's never enough. Your hands don't cup your flesh, don't mould and kiss and promise the carefully knitted lies any lover had dealt you in the past. And you're as cold as ever when they fall back to your sides. Nothing enflames your skin like you wishes it could — like those you wish would.
It's a discontent you live with. Just as you're sure millions of others do. That's what life is; you push yourself through the day, through your mundane day job and your taxing nighttime hobbies (because you sure as hell can't claim what you do as real work if your only pay is in blood and tears). You cling to the good times that happened too long ago to remember clearly, and make the moments that you're alone with your thoughts as small as possible.
But there's no time to consider all that now.
You scrunch your face up as tight as you can, squeezing your eyes shut to the point where you see stars, exploding like confetti in some absurd black void that hides behind your lids. For a moment you hold the pose, watching the stars erupt, until the position hurts too much and you have to release.
Surroundings blur and then clear as your eyes readjust from their disassociation. You stare blearily at the random coffee shop you and your 'associate' chose for the night. It's just as generic as the last five visited, a thousand shades of brown and red and weary smiles the bored baristas wear just for a cheap check that'll barely cover their asses. It's worn and empty; no one's hear except the two of you and the workers who probably hate you for being here so late.
Normally, you would feel like an asshole staying so late. But you can't bring yourself to move, or even suggest to. It's all too heavy. And even if it's in brooding silence, you don't want to leave your partner. Not yet, you beg the universe, just a few more minutes.
And, speaking of—
"What's got you so blue today?"
You blink. Look over to him, only to see him already watching you.
There's really no point lying. He always unravels you too quickly, too easily — it's the detective in him, unravelling anyone and scooping their truths from shivering flesh. Some sort of childhood trauma response he developed into another super power.
You used to hate it. Now...if you concentrate hard enough, his sharp gaze feels like one of a lover's.
"Don't know what you mean," you tell him, foolish and flustered. "I'm just fine."
"Bullshit. You've sighed a dozen times in the last five minutes."
"Tch. No I haven't."
"Did too!"
His teeth glint, white and clashing against the full pink of his lips. You wish you could denounce all the times you wondered what it would feel like to have them graze against your keening skin — but not even all the gods could cleanse of you of those thoughts. Those desperate, pleading, melancholic memories stain; he can't see them, but you do when you look close enough. And you can't escape it, much as you try.
"Seriously, though. What's up with you?"
Your gaze falls down to your hands, eager to escape his allure, though it's not a great distraction. It only makes you more bitter, really, taking in all the flaws that litter your weaponised limbs. They're calloused from a million fights. Your knuckles are scarred, aching from wounds you reopen every other night. A thousand scars from a thousand scrapes, cuts, slashes and grazes linger on once perfect skin. You don't know how many there are, anymore, only that you wish you could wipe them off. Start over, have a clean slate. Erase all your mistakes and be beautiful again.
"I'm just tired," you lie. It's tense and pitiful; you know you've screwed it up the second the words leave your lips. "S'all."
"Ri-i-ight, and I'm the goddamn queen of England."
The absurdity of his retort makes your lips twitch. It's not enough for a smile, your self-inflicted misery makes sure of that, but it's a seed of something. "Wow. Didn't know I was in the presence of royalty."
"Yeah, yeah. Shut it."
"My apologies, your highness."
"Shut up, you little shit," he grumbles, but it's as soft as you get from him. It's practically a cry of love — or your foolish mind paints it as such. You take his teasing insults as promises of adorations and his arguments are poems of lust and infatuation that tug on your heartstrings in ways you know they shouldn't.
You're partners, for crying out loud. Professional coworkers (if you call the bloody mess you two create work). You don't get to miss him, or crave him, or love him like you do.
"Something happen to you?"
You watch his own hands fold and unfold on the table. The long, delicate fingers stand out on a man like him; someone who paints himself in only sharp angles and cutting lines. But you think they match him well. They promise life. Bleed hope, even in the raised scars that lace his skin like your own. You've watched those fingers grip a blade, launch it into flesh, pull and push and dig and rip and take and committed acts of atrocity most people would run from. You know he probably thinks of his hands the same way you do. But you think they're beautiful.
"Nah. It's...it's nothing. Really."
You can't see his face, but you imagine his narrowed eyes and furrowed brows asking for an answer you're just not willing to give. "C'mon, just tell me. Can't be that bad."
Your body laughs. You hear it from some place far away. It's cold and hoarse; you wonder how long it's been since you've heard a genuine laugh from yourself. You wonder if he notices (and wishes he did, foolishly, frivolously...).
It's probably stupid, but you go for it.
"You ever miss having someone?"
Something creaks; his chair, groaning as he shifts his weight. One of his fingers taps against his empty coffee cup; idle music for a restless soul.
"Like, in what way?"
"I..." Your nails dig into your palms. This was a mistake, but one you have to follow through with. He won't accept silence after something like that. "In the cheesy, domestic sorta way? That whole, havin' someone to come home to, someone who you can talk to, someone who..." the words stick like molasses in the back of your throat. Try as you do, they refuse to give themselves to him, so you have to substitute. "Just, someone who likes you, past your body or, or whatever."
"Oh."
"Sorry." It's your turn to shift in your seat, awkwardly searching for something to occupy yourself with as this uncomfortable energy you've created carries on. But your cup's empty, and you don't have the cash to ask for another overpriced latte. "Forget about it. Let's talk about somethin' else, yeah?"
He doesn't answer that. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all for a moment, long enough to make you wonder if you've just crossed the line of no return. You can't bring yourself to look at him, hell your cowardice is painful enough to make you wonder if you should just make a run for it, say au revoir! to the bond you've built with this knife-obsessed robin hood and crush your heart forever.
It's tempting, and you consider it, but then he fills the silence.
"I miss Eudora sometimes."
Finally, your gaze tilts up. Your eyes meet his lips. He's not smiling anymore.
You guys don't talk about exes together. It's a forbidden topic, same as family or childhoods or the number of people that have cut you open and bled you dry for fun. It's too personal, and in this line of work, personal doesn't fly. But you know Eudora Patch, because this line of work requires a couple run ins with people like her, and because your partner in crime has never learned how to stop his emotions from bleeding into his expression.
"Not because I still love her, but y'know..." his fingers wave aimlessly. "It was nice, when it worked. I liked having someone to sleep with. In a non-sexual manner." His lip curls a little. "Guess the sex part was nice too, though."
You nod. "Yeah, I get that. It's...it was nice, having someone who knew you. Who wanted to make you feel good, not just for themselves but 'cause that sort of things matters."
"Mm."
"Y'ever consider pursuing that sort of thing?"
He shakes his head. His adamancy is a truck smashing into your heart — though you know you should have expected no less, it still hurts. "I can't. It never works, with people like us. Y'know?"
"Yeah. Makes sense." You want to say more. You probably should say more — but you doubt he wants to hear your woes about intimacy, and the pathetic ways you crave affection you probably don't deserve. "Yeah."
"Why?"
"Hm?"
His brows knot. "Why're you asking? Someone do somethin'?"
"What? No."
"Cause, like, if someone's hurt you, I'll—"
"I'm fine," you promise, and without thinking, you reach across the table to pat his hand. To reassure him like one would a lover. But just before your fingers meet his, the bitter reminder that he's not yours sets in and you draw back. Your hand falls a couple inches from his own. "And I can take care of myself, if I wasn't. Don't worry."
He chuckles mirthlessly. "Y'sure about that? You're still the dumbass that tripped over her own feet twice walking down an empty sidewalk, and—"
"—oh, you are such an asshole, why can't you just—"
"—so if you need someone to cut a bitch, I'm available."
You soften slightly. Try to smile, even if it's a false promise and probably hangs like a broken door on mismatched hinges. "I appreciate that. But I'm okay. Think I'm just tired, and a little lonely."
"What, I'm not good enough for you anymore?"
Bitterness seeps onto your tongue; it speaks before you can shut your lips around it. "You're fine as a partner against crime. But you're not anything otherwise, are you?" It feels like a taunt. You hadn't meant it to be — though, maybe you had.
If he takes your jeer poorly, though, it doesn't show on his face. He's still smiling and watching you, eyes simmering with a joke you wish you were in on.
"It doesn't matter though. Having someone's too complicated, 'specially for fools like us. Sometimes it's just..." you don't have a good answer. Not one he'd want to hear, anyways. "I just miss it sometimes. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to, or eat breakfast with in the mornings."
He nods slowly. "Yeah. Was nice, having another body around."
"Yeah. Ha. I," you stutter out a chuckle. Tug at your lip, nibbling at the cracked skin that comes with your long nights. "No one prepares you for how lonely adulthood is. Like, I'm half tempted to make friends with the takeout guys, just so I have a friend at all."
"We're friends."
"You know what I mean," you mumble, swallowing the bitter 'are we?' that almost makes its way off your tongue. "It was just nice when I had the time, to have a person around. Someone to like, hold hands with, or-or call me beautiful, sometimes. I-I can't remember the last time called me that, any..."
Fuck.
You hadn't meant for that last confession.
He wasn't supposed to hear that. It's too personal, too personal, too fucking personal for someone you don't even know.
Everything trembles; you're shaking like an avalanche, ready to sweep it all away under some snow drift. Never to be seen again. But you can't do that, there's no taking back the way your voice cracked as it reaches it's last word, and how your hand slips into a fist, ready to charge even though there's no punching your way out of this fumble.
You crack. Stumble out of your seat. Before he can talk you're moving, throwing a couple bills (too many for your poor wallet, you'll pay for that later) down and mumbling something about heading home. Your head's spinning and you just want to sit down again, pretend like this never happened and ask about some meaningless moment in a meaningless day that you wish could be yours and his, not just—
"—text me when you're goin' out again," you say, high and nervous. "I'll be around."
You turn.
"You don't have to leave."
"I got work tomorrow. Early."
"Thought you had the day off?"
Fuck, la deuxième acte. "Taking a shift for someone."
"Oh." He doesn't believe you. He would be a fool to. But he agrees anyways. "Okay."
"See ya, Kraken."
He doesn't answer you back. It's probably better that way.
BONUS
Many hours later, you're in bed, finally dozing off. You've rinsed off the filth of the night and resigned yourself to a barely adequate rest alone, too tired to consider what usually makes your mind race. It's been a long day; let future you contemplate all the ways you've screwed up.
Just as you're about to fall asleep, however, there's a small ping! that immediately wakes you up A notification sound reserved for only one person.
You groan but still roll over. Your heart may be a humiliated, burning mess, but it still beats for him, much as you've tried to stifle it.
kraken // 2:36 am.
you available at 11p tomorrow?
kraken // 2:37 am.
got word somethin going down
at east docks, wanna check it
out before it gets bad.
Relief is a sweet blessing. You exhale and smile into the darkness. He's still a professional, even if you seem unable to understand what that means.
you // 2:40 am.
for sure. meet me at my place
whenever and we can prep.
You leave it at that. Whatever he has to say after that, cannot be too important to waste your precious hours of sleep. So you roll over and shut your eyes and let yourself forget about the empty space that fills your place.
It's a decision you regret the next morning, when you wake up and realise what you missed.
kraken // 3:31 am.
you ever get lonely for
someone, feel free to let
me know.
kraken // 3:32 am.
might not make a great
boyfriend, but i'll eat
breakfast with you.
so long as you're cooking.
A/N - I had a whole idea for two tired vigilantes (like what Diego does in season one, but partnered up) who both are really lonely and tired of life and all it's shit, and rely on each other more than they'll ever admit, and...I'll probably never write it, but this was a fun bit of that. two lonely emotionally deprived assholes who can't accept that maybe they can be loved and the person who wants to is right in front of them. :)
#my writing#diego hargreeves#diego hargreeves x reader#tua x reader#tua imagine#diego hargreeves imagine#hargreeves imagine#hargreeves x reader#gender neutral reader
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Hi! I was wondering
How do you think Hashirama and Madara would be in a Road to Ninja version?
I remember once reading a Hashimada fic (which I never finished RIP) that was about Madara appearing in the RTN universe and the 3 things that stucked with me were:
1.- Madara was the first Hokage (something that Madara thought was horrible when he saw his sculpted face on the Hokage mountain 🤣)
And personally I think that it would not have been like that even in the RTN universe because we didn't see his face along with the other faces of Hokages in the movie (Yeah, apparently I'm basing myself on a movie which I'm not even sure if it's canon or not, even though Kishimoto wrote it) and the RTN characters didn't seem to even know who Madara is.
2.- Hashirama having his bowlcut as an adult
And I agree with the Madara from that fanfic, it looks awful on him. Hashirama, babe, I'm sorry but the only ones who can rock that style are Guy Sensei and Rock Lee, I know you just were trying to be cool but it doesn't suite you.
3.- Tobirama was a porn writer
Instead of being a fan of forbidden jutsu and creating justus, he wrote porn novels a la Jiraiya. And I'll hold that headcanon with my dead hands.
The only other fanfic that places the founders in the RTN universe is one where the protagonist is Mito (it's an interesting one-shot that pairs her with Itama 🤔)
She was kind of a shy person 🤔? And so it was Tobirama 🤣 which I found fun.
Hashirama, as the first fanfic I mentioned, was the Tobirama of the place (saddenly Madara wasn't in this fic).
So I would like to know what are your versions of the founders (or only Hashirama and Madara if it is too much) in the RTN universe! And how do you think things would be
Hmm, RTN is an interesting concept to me but, to be honest, I don't think Konoha would exist if a lot of personalities got flipped 😂 I haven't read any RTN fics with the founders, but if you, or anyone else, have links at hand I'd love to check them out 👀
1. Madara
Here's the big one and the crux of why I don't think the village would exist. Typically I characterize Madara as an extremely responsible man who internalizes things when he shouldn't, takes himself way too seriously, is aggressive and abrasive even to people he loves sometimes, but genuinely loves the people closest too him. Reversing this would make a character that slacks off, takes no responsibility, and is completely passive in life and has fleeting attachments to others around him. Assuming he wouldn't die on the battlefield, I could see the RTN "alternate" personality coming about of Madara's being so overpowered and competent that he loses interest and distances himself from things before he can get attached and lose them.
It makes building a village very hard though. (At first I was tempted to go RTN Sasuke route and maybe RTN!Madara is a little more openly flirty than canon!Madara, but the passivity and refusal to take responsibility would be the "core" qualities for me.)
2. Hashirama
Hashirama is a bit weird because he has a lot of surface-level "conflicting" traits in canon. He is optimistic but he pushes beyond his natural attitude and uses it as a mask to hide instead of addressing his feelings. He's mischievous, likes jokes and games, and can be a bit hedonistic with his pleasure but can equally be serious when necessary and will willingly sacrifice for others around him. And simultaneously, Hashirama and Madara are connected by a shared sense of idealism but also anger. Hashirama is a very kind, but extremely angry, man. I think a RTN!Hashirama would share a kind of apathy of RTN!Madara but instead of passivity his lack of anger would manifest as cruelty. Because canon!Hashirama is angry but his anger is usually a righteous kind. I don't think RTN!Hashirama would go out of his way to be cruel, but he doesn't have the empathy of canon!Hashirama, especially to others' suffering. He enjoys fighting just a bit too much and has no qualms about killing. In his mind, he should always come first in any situation and prioritizing (or even considering) others' is effort and him going out of his way to be "nice" and the other should be thankful. Similarly if he feels any negative emotion, he won't bottle it up and swallow it down, he'll immediately address it, usually confrontationally. RTN!Hashirama is as intelligent as his canon counterpart but he doesn't suffer fools and he hates it when people underestimate him. He's pretty proud and vain, tbh.
I really don't think the above would make him the "Tobirama" of RTN verse. To me Hashirama and Tobirama have different core values and perspectives and inverting Hashirama's doesn't make it become Tobirama's, if that makes sense. This one is also wordy bc I immediately knew how RTN!Madara would be RTN!Hashirama is a bit harder to pin down. But I hope it's clear why I have doubts about the village existing...maybe if RTN!Hashirama got it in his mind as a pet project for the hell of it, that he'd be a better leader for the country and not just the Senju alone, and RTN!Madara liked the idea of no responsibility and being able to detach even further than he already was? But that's still kind of grasping for a reason.
3. Hashimada
Equally I think any Hashirama/Madara relationship would be ehhh. They definitely wouldn't have the overwhelming bond of their canon counterparts, and it could be a relationship ripe for unhappiness. The closest I can think of to making the ship work is RTN!Madara would be drawn to Hashirama's absurd level of self-confidence and able to let the casual cruelty slide off instead of getting worked up about it. In a way RTN!Hashirama is stable and predictable. If he's pretty overpowered, there's less of a chance RTN!Madara would lose him, so their relationship isn't deep but it's more or less dependable and Madara knows exactly what he's going to get. In contrast RTN!Hashirama has an audience in the form of RTN!Madara and a partner that's not going to push back against his ideas. RTN!Madara doesn't ask for much and he doesn't complain when RTN!Hashirama puts himself first. He doesn't want, or might not be capable of, the deep emotional bond their canon counterparts have. RTN!Madara wouldn't leave Konoha (if it existed) in the AU, because he doesn't really care. If someone upset RTN!Hashirama and he decided to leave to 'do it right' RTN!Madara would probably follow, maybe out of some loyalty for RTN!Hashirama but mostly because it's what's easiest.
4. Tobirama
The core of Tobirama's character to me is prioritizing logic over emotion and both a conscious and unconscious failure to realize he can't completely eliminate emotion. Tobirama loves his brother, he's curious and has a desire to find out what makes things work and is willing to bend morality to get results if it'll serve a greater good. He's very aware of the unfairness of the world but believes it's an unspoken truth of humanity and can only be mitigated through logical means, but never completely erased. He'll be the sacrificial lamb, the one that works in shadows so his brother can have his utopian dream. Despite everything, he loves his genin, the strongest bonds he has aside from Hashirama, and does try to instill in them lessons he think will help them and lead to peace and stability in the village. He's still influenced by the prejudices of his time and can never find it in him to truly forgive the Uchiha.
A RTN!Tobirama would be a man ruled by emotion. Him writing erotica all day definitely could be one way this manifests lol. But overall he's sensitive and spiritual and can't stand the idea of killing. He and RTN!Hashirama don't get along and he actively tries to avoid his brother. RTN!Tobirama has equally strong principles as canon!Tobirama, but they're pacifist in nature and while he likes his studies, he prefers to be out talking to people and learning from them first hand. He's very naive and can be easily taken advantage of and he has trouble focusing on any one thing for too long. No matter how many times this happens, he never can harden his heart or be overly suspicious of others. RTN!Tobirama would most likely be the one support peace in this AU. He embraces the Uchiha and all the Senjus past enemies with open arms, almost to a foolish degree. It'd be a bad idea if he became hokage in this AU because he's a terrible negotiator and has a bad people-pleasing streak and struggles with long-term tactics. With the exception of RTN!Hashirama, who he considers an aberration who doesn't have a soul, humans at their core all have good intentions at heart.
5. Mito
I characterize Mito as a very level-headed woman. Her marriage to Hashirama is political in nature but they grow to be good friends and she never expected to fall in love and she's glad Hashirama didn't want a traditional wife. Mito is devoted to her community work (she works hands-on with people in the village), she seeks out connections with others and, despite the distance, remains close with her family in Uzushio, constantly writing them letters. She's spiritual and follows the Uzumakis' beliefs (not gonna list this OoT spoiler lol) and studies fuinjutsu in her spare time, something she's done since she was a child. She is willing to sacrifice if it meant protecting something she considered greater than herself, much to her own personal detriment. She loves and is proud of her children and grandchildren, but if she had a choice, she would have chosen to remain childless, she finds her true calling elsewhere.
RTN!Mito, similarly to RTN!Tobirama, is ruled by emotions. She dreams of one day making a good marriage for herself and centers romance and being a mother as her ideal life, but she's extremely picky when it comes picking the perfect husband. RTN!Mito knows how much she's worth and she refuses to settle and will not even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. She has a hard time forming long-lasting, deep bonds with other people and views starting her own family as the solution to this problem. At times she can be a bit absent-minded and unintentionally selfish, but she's not actively malicious. She blusters a lot and depending on the situation can come off as cold and uncaring, but it's only to hide the depth of her true feelings and loneliness. In this AU she would absolutely refuse to marriage RTN!Hashirama. Nothing on hell or earth, could make her change her mind.
Mito is such a blank-slate character it feels like writing an oc more than a canon character, tbh. And this is something I don't see brought up a lot but a "heart full of love" to combat the kyuubi's hatred to me has never been exclusive to romantic or familial (to children) love. *cough* I want a complex female character who's not vilified for not wanting to have children and/or regretting having them *cough* Mito's "love" was for the people of Konoha and Uzushio. My personal headcanon regarding her and Hashirama's child (I don't think she had more than one) was that she was dedicated to her son, but quickly realized being a mother wasn't her dream or something she even actively liked. The kid was well-cared for and she was dutiful towards him, but Hashirama was the parent that loved and embraced him with his whole heart and it led to some tension between Mito and her son as the kid could tell the difference and neither of them were "wrong" to feel the way they did. This is why Tsunade was shown with Hashirama instead of Mito, he was a lot more present in her life when she was young (instead of Kishi just not having made Mito as a character yet). But after Hashirama and Tsunade's dad died (and then Nawaki), she and Mito grew close but it was definitely more of a friendship or student/mentor relationship rather than a traditional grandmother/granddaughter relationship but both were satisfied with it and loved eachother. Likewise I didn't want RTN!Mito's characterization to be shallow and hit misogynistic undertones with her being an "opposite" to Mito's calm, level-headed, focused on her work/passions characterization.
6. Closing thoughts
#1: Wow this got long #2: I feel conflicted about RTN because it seemed to flip surface-level characteristics instead of deep characterizations, and ignored flaws altogether. The ones above, esp. Hashirama and Madara's, are kind of dark in a way? But that's the only way it makes sense to me...Gai and Lee caring about style and being stylish is a funny joke but if you were to actually poke and prod and say their personalities were inverted, neither of them would be top-notch ninja as we know...unless I'm just completely misremembering RTN because I realize it's been years since I saw it lol. Anyway, hope this was entertaining!
#naruto#hashimada#hashirama senju#madara uchiha#mito uzumaki#tobirama senju#asks#al-stuffy#rtn au#long post
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virgin reader giving grayson a bj
a/n: i promise i’m working on requests, my life has just been incredibly busy along with me working on the no nut fic and some other exciting things for y’all!! anyways thank you for the request angel, hope you like it🤍🤍
warnings: first-time bj’s, lack of communication between these two, and grayson having a bit of innocence kink if you squint
this is a continuation of this request. you don’t have to read it to understand what’s going on here (but you should read it anyways bc it’s kinda good lmao)
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If you were to list your worst moments when it came to love and dating, your first blowjob had to be near the top.
It was high school, junior year with some football player named Chad Daniels. You both were at a party, and honestly, the whole experience was less than extraordinary. It only took two seconds before Chad immediately tried facefucking you. All you could remember is the pain you felt from gagging and choking and almost instantly pushing him off of you.
Needless to say, it wasn't your favorite activity nor something you were that desperate to try again. Until Grayson.
It wasn't like you were dumb; you knew how much guys love getting their dick sucked. And with Grayson doing everything he can to please you, you wanted to return the favor.
You had planned to wake him up with morning head after that first time he ate you out, something cute, intimate, and if you're honest, probably very ambitious for your first time.
However, any worries you may have had were proven to be completely unnecessary when you woke up to Grayson licking into you. You jerk roughly awake, legs only staying in place due to Grayson's firm grip. It doesn't take long before your scream of surprise turns into moans, growing louder when you watch your insanely cocky boyfriend wink at you.
"Grayson, what the- what the fuck?" You softly moan out the last part, shuddering at the way he starts sucking on your clit.
He pops up, a cheeky grin on his face and lips red and shining.
"Morning!" He goes back down and continues working you higher and higher to your orgasm. It doesn't take long, melting under Grayson's touch. He watches your face, his expression star-struck, and just so fucking in love as he sees how he just made your body fall apart.
"You couldn't wait until after breakfast?"
"Angel, that was my breakfast." He kisses you softly, leaving you dazed as he walks to the bathroom.
It started to become a drug for him; Whether he was stressed, happy, or even just bored, Grayson was beginning to find a new home in between your legs. And with him dropping to his knees more and more, it only furthered your desire to do the same.
You started to notice. He would eat you out, make you cum, and then leave to go take care of himself. It was an annoying pattern that was being formed, but no matter what, he wouldn't let you do anything about it.
"Step-by-step, remember? This is about you." was always his answer, and while you appreciated his devotion to your pleasure, you were starting to crave him. Crave the weight of him in your mouth, the heady taste, and most of all, the visual of him cumming from your doing.
If you were ever going to take this any further, you needed to figure out how to show him that you're not just doing this out of an obligation, but because you absolutely desire to make him feel as good as he does to you.
So you follow his advice and take it slow. You start with light brushes, lingering touches on his chest and thighs, flirty glances. Grayson notices; he makes a few quips about how touchy you've become but ultimately believing it's the result of the two of you taking your relationship further. You move on to suggestive comments, openly making jokes about blowjobs and talking about his dick. If he notices, he doesn't say anything, just laughs and shakes his head, playing it up for the vlogs.
You sit on his lap when the car is too crowded, he moves you so you're not directly on him; you suck a lollipop in front of him, he goes into another room to "finish editing." It was almost as if the roles had reversed, him now being the one to run away. You were starting to feel frustrated, thinking he was getting some twisted joy from seeing you so flustered.
So you decide to approach it head-on, bluntly asking him during lunch,
"Why won't you let me suck your dick?"
He chokes on his sandwich, staring at you, shocked.
"Angel, what?" He dramatically coughs out, and you roll your eyes at the theatrics.
"Why won't you let me suck your dick?" You enunciate, speaking slowly while raising an eyebrow. He just stares back at you, not speaking or moving before going back to his food.
"S'fine, Y/N. I can take care of myself. This is about you." He doesn't look at you when he speaks, more preoccupied with his vegan BLT (which he made so you know it can't be that damn good)
You pout, pushing your food around with your fork. It's the same response he's been giving, and at this point, you're worried you might snap if you don't get a real answer.
"Are you seriously trying to tell me that whatever you're doing with your hand is better than my mouth?" He takes a sharp breath, pushing his plate away from him.
"Enough, Y/N. I don't want to talk about it.". If you were stupider, you would've dropped it, let him continue with his lunch, and let him go at his own pace. But you were becoming worried, wondering why he would shut you out instead of opening up.
"Gray," You move to sit next to him, playing with one of his hands as you continue. "You told me all you want is for me to be honest with you. Can you please do the same?" He sighs, taking a moment before answering,
"I'm just scared that once we start, I won't be able to stop. It's not that I don't want you to, it's just— I don't want to lose control and ruin anything for you." Whatever you were expecting couldn't have prepared you for that, and honestly, you were a little surprised. Selfishly, your fears were centered around your own insecurities: that Grayson didn't think you were good enough to, that he wasn't attracted to you, etc. As usual though, Grayson shocked you with how his universe seems to entirely revolve around you and your happiness.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. That was stupid." Grayson takes back, scared that your silence is one of fear or disgust. You place a hand on his arm, moving closer.
"Amour, don't apologize." You kiss him lovingly, feeling soft over how sweet your boyfriend can be. You pull away, kissing his cheek before continuing.
"Us taking this slow isn't just for me — it's for you too. And you know that whatever you want to do, I'm obviously down for as well" He smiles stupidly.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. But believe me, you've been making me feel really good lately." He perks up at that.
"And I really, really, really want to make you feel good too." You take his hand, leading him to the couch. His eyes follow your every move, not wanting to miss a single thing. You kiss him again before pulling away quickly, a thought coming to your head.
"You're gonna have to help me. I haven't done this that much." He nods rapidly, pants growing tighter with every word. He doesn't have exact words to describe it, but there's something so hot about the innocent look on your face, the way you're looking at him wide-doe eyes and waiting for his instruction. Something so pure about the knowledge that you still held onto so many of your first, yet so sinful that he was going to be the man to ruin that. You lightly lick your lips as you put your hair up, and Grayson's mouth goes dry at the movement.
"I'm pretty sure I've dreamt about this before."
"Let's hope I live up to the standards." He groans lowly as you sink to your knees.
"Trust me, you're already pretty close." His heart sinks when you rest both palms above his knees, and he can tell he's working himself up. After going a while without doing anything remotely sexual, the slightest touch sends little shockwaves straight to his dick. If the anticipation meant anything, he would probably cum the second you actually touched where he needed you most.
You unbutton his pants, sliding them down with his help. You stare at how his boxers are already tented, forming a nice bulge. Already you're feeling overwhelmed, not sure where you want to start first while just wanting to show him how much you adore him.
You watch as he slides his boxers down, and your mouth starts watering. Grayson obviously radiates big dick energy, that's no secret to anyone, and you've seen him freeball in grey sweats enough times to at least have an idea of what he's working with. Seeing the real thing, however, has you more turned on than you've been before.
"So big," You whisper, and Grayson's sure he could cum then and there from the awestruck look on your face. You kiss his upper thigh, right next to his medusa tattoo, before tentatively kissing the tip.
"Angel, please." He could cry, finally having you where he wants you, but not doing enough to relieve any of the tension he's feeling. He knows you're not teasing, not even entirely sure of what you're doing to him, and while he's usually not a beggar, he'll do whatever it takes to finally get you on him.
You nod, growing wet at his soft pleas before licking from his base to his tip. You take him into your mouth, sucking the head while watching Grayson's head fall back onto the couch. You lean back a little, spitting before taking him back in your mouth, going further than before. You continue that for a minute, bobbing your head slightly. You moan softly at your boyfriend's blissed-out expression, eyes glazed over as he looks at you sucking him off.
"Your hands, angel —use them. Please," He moans out the last part, having already added your hands the minute he said the word. You stroke up and down the part that can't fit, experimentally twisting them.
You're drooling now, covering both your chin and his dick, and honestly, your jaw is starting to hurt, but the look on Grayson's face is more than enough to keep going.
"Wait, off. Angel, get off." You pull off of him, scared that you've done something wrong. One hand is still lightly jerking him off while the other rests on his upper thigh.
"Gonna —gonna cum. Didn't want to in your mouth." He's breathless, panting to calm himself down from how you've worked him up. You push the hand away that is moving to replace yours and start sucking again.
"You're okay with that?" He questions and you nod as best you can, humming happily. Between the vibrations, how wet your mouth is, and the way your hands are moving, Grayson is done, cumming with a silent moan and eyes closing.
You take every drop, swallowing before pulling away to jerk him slowly. You watch with big eyes as he twitches and slightly jerks in your hand, riding the after waves of his orgasm. Once you feel he's finally done, you move up to sit next to him.
"How was that?" You're genuinely curious, wanting to know if it was as good for him as you thought. He opens his eyes, pupils blown and breath still a little ragged.
"Perfect." He kisses you deeply, shivering slightly when he tastes himself. "You're fucking perfect." He moves his hand lower, already reaching for your shorts, but you stop him.
You're tired, exhausted really. So you take him to bed, silently suggesting a nap, unaware of Grayson's self-promises to make you feel twice as good when you wake up.
#remember ladies#if you're man doesn't kiss you after you suck him off#he doesn't deserve head#grayson dolan#grayson dolan fic#grayson dolan blurb#grayson dolan smut#dolan twins#dolan twins fic#dolan twins blurb#dolan twins smut#blazedwritings
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Chapter 2
Summary: A relaxing summer after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but
Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader
Warnings: Eren being a HUGE fucking tease
Word Count: 1851
A/N: This is lowkey a filler chapter, kinda just something that advances the story, and heightens the tension. And I decided to start to posting on Tuesdays and Fridays bc this series is mad long lmao
Tags: @her-majesty-kiara, @germfart3, @styxtm, @iwascrybaby, @snkpaths, @prxttyguardian
Chapter Summary: You’re falling deeper and deeper into his spell
Your plans haven't been completely thwarted, you've hung out at Jean's house and haven't seen Eren since, so you feel a little bit better. You're at your house this time, the fans blowing on you as you both lay on the floor.
"Remind me why I keep letting you take me outside," you groan, the fans barely working to cool you down.
"Because you love me," he returns, and you shake your head as you roll over onto your back.
"No, that can't be it," you tease, squealing lightly when a pillow comes flying your way, putting your arms up to shield your face. You hear the front door open, but you don't move, letting your head rest against the cool wooden floor.
"Oh, no, the kids are dead," your mom jokes, and you and Jean both chuckle as you turn your head to look at her. "Sweetie, do you think you could help me with something outside real quick?"
You whine as you scrunch your nose. "But, Mom, it's hot," you complain, and she rolls her eyes before waving you off.
"Girl, come on, it won't take long." You groan but slowly start to get up anyway.
"Ha ha," you hear Jean laugh like a little kid, and you chuck the pillow at him as you scowl at him. You whine again when you feel the heat pounding at your skin, and you follow your mom towards one of her flower beds.
"Uh, Mom, those plants aren't going to survive," you tell her, feeling the humid air suffocating you as you wave a hand in front of your face in vain.
She laughs lightly before wiping her forehead, and she digs another hole. "They'll be fine, it's gonna get cooler." You raise your eyebrows at her words as you wait for her to tell you what to do. "I'm almost out of dirt, so I need you to get some from the garage."
You sigh heavily, but turn around anyway and make your way towards the garage. You grimace when the place is way hotter than the outside, and you look for the dirt and sighing when you find it, realizing you have to lift it. You squat down to pick it up, situating it until your arms are wrapped around it with it firmly placed against your chest.
As you walk out of the garage, you look to your left, and you instantly regret it. You don't even realize you've stopped in your tracks as your eyes land on Eren who's working on his truck. He looks up and makes eye contact with you, an easy smirk appearing across his face.
Before you can blink or do anything, he standing upright, slipping his t-shirt off quickly, shoving it in his back pocket before fixing his hair. You bite your lip to stop yourself from drooling which you know you were doing, and even from where you're standing, you can see his chiseled abs and defined back muscles shining in the sun rays with sweat, and he moves back to working on his car, his biceps flexing with every movement.
"Y/N!" You jump when you hear your name, expecting it to be your mom when you look around for the source, but you smile when you see Ymir walking up your driveway.
"Ymir, hey, how are you?" you ask, adjusting the bag of dirt in your arms that's slipping from the amount of sweat on your arms.
"Glad that school is over," she answers, stopping when she gets to you, and you scoff in agreement.
"I know that's right." She laughs with you before turning to where you were looking not too long ago.
"Holy shit, is that Eren Jaeger?" she asks in disbelief, and you smack her with the bag.
"Shut up! He can probably hear you," you scold, and you glance at him. "And yeah, it is."
"I thought he couldn't get any hotter," she comments, and you nod your head as you silently agree with her. "But he's not really my type," she finishes with a shrug, and you chuckle as you turn towards her.
"Yes, we know. Your type is Historia." You laugh again when she shoves at you before you both turn to walk back towards your mom.
You both hit it off pretty quickly when you met, and she was always someone you hung out with whenever Jean wasn't free. Even though you would trust her with your life, you never breathed a word to her about any of your interactions with Eren. Whenever she would ask, you'd give her meaningless or one-sentence answers. Jean finding out what happened back then was enough embarrassment for you.
"How ya doing, Mrs. L/N," Ymir greets, and your mom turns around, standing up quickly in surprise.
"Ymir, oh wow, it's been a while hasn't it?" she asks, resting her hands on her hips.
"It has, it's good to see you," she tells her, and your mom returns it, and Ymir asks what she's doing.
"Planting in the scorching heat of summer," you answer, and your mom rolls her eyes at you. "And now she's got me out here in the heat." She chuckles as she grabs the bag from you, and you wince when you feel how sore your muscles are from holding the dirt when you let them fall to your sides. "Why are you planting anyway?"
"Your father and I made a bet. He doesn't think that I'll be able to grow them," she explains as she gets back down on the ground to open the bag of dirt.
"Can Dad even keep plants alive?"
"You know, I asked him the same thing." You all share a laugh before you and Ymir head inside. Jean's still laying on the floor, but this time his head is turned as he scrolls through his phone. You hear them start talking as you go to get something to drink for you and Ymir.
You walk back into the living room, handing it to her as you find your original place on the floor, and the three of you catch up on what's happened over the course of your freshman and sophomore year, most of the conversation consisting of teasing Jean. You hear the door open, and your mom's complaining about the heat, but what she says after that makes you shoot your head up.
"Come on in, Eren, you've been out there for a while, you're always welcome."
"Thank you so much, Mrs. L/N." You sit up quickly, your eyes landing on a shirtless Eren standing in your foyer, shorts hanging so low on his hips that you're sure it should be a crime as he smirks at you.
"Y/N, why don't you get him some water while I got wash up?" You sit there for a second, dumbfounded before you move, not wanting to raise suspicion as your mom walks out of sight.
"And I still have to see you even when I'm not at home," Jean groans when you stand.
"Love you, too, bro," Eren jokes before following behind you. You open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, and tossing it to him without looking at him. You hear snippets of the conversation between Ymir and Jean, thankful that they're not listening. "Thanks," he tells you, and you trail your eyes up his body, meeting that stupid smirk on his face as he screws the cap off.
He never takes his eyes off of yours, and you watch his Adam's apple bob, some of the water dripping down his face before you snap out of it. "You're, uh, welcome."
He smiles at you when he finishes the whole thing and tossing it into the recycling bin. "I really appreciate it," he says, walking towards you until your back hits the fridge, the cooling sensation not the only thing that causes you to shudder.
"It was no problem. Seriously." You want to push him back, but that would mean you would have to touch him, and every part of his torso is nothing but muscle, and you try to keep your gaze on his face and not his glistening skin.
"I feel like I should pay you back somehow," he starts, his voice dangerously low, and you grip the handles as you shrug.
"You don't have to do that. It's just water," you respond weakly, and he rests a hand flat against the fridge next to your head.
"But I want to," he pushes, and you shrug again as you try to find anything else to look at.
"What did you have in mind?" Your mind isn't even on the right track anymore, Eren is the only thing filling your senses.
He steps closer to you, letting his hand fall, his finger tracing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its path. "I've got a lot in mind."
"L-Like what?" You shouldn't be pushing him, you should be leaving, but he always manages to keep you frozen in place.
"For starters," he says, gripping your hip softly. "I'd pin you down and mark every inch of your skin so that everyone knows that you're mine."
You feel your head spinning, the dizzying feeling nearly making your legs go weak, and when he trails a finger up your neck, you look over his shoulder finding a spot on the wall to try and ground yourself. "Then what?"
He huffs softly as he grips your chin, making you look at him, and you don't fight it. "Then," he starts, leaning in closer. "I'd fuck you until you couldn't walk. Until the only thing that comes out of your mouth is my name."
Your eyes shut for a quick second as you bite your lip to muffle your whimper. "Just for a bottle of water?" you try to joke, but now you're breathing heavy, and the playful tone is overshadowed by lust, your core throbbing almost to the point of painful.
He tilts his head as he smirks at you. "Say it."
Your face scrunches slightly in confusion, but your voice is still wavering. "Say what?"
His response is a chuckle as he's backing away from you, and you grip the handles of the fridge until it hurts to keep yourself from pulling him back to you. "You'll say it eventually."
You don't really know what he's talking about, but he backs away from you to create enough distance that isn't questioning just as your mom comes into the kitchen. "Did you get him the water?" she asks, and you try to nod, but your brain is still foggy so it looks like you're malfunctioning, which you basically are.
"She did. Thanks again," he tells you, flashing that smile that he always put on around your parents. "I think I'm gonna get back to work, but it was nice talking to you."
"You as well." He gives you one last look before he's walking out, and you drop your head as you try to make your breathing even again. "He's just such a gentleman, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he sure is."
|Chapter 1|Masterlist|Chapter 3|
Taglist: CLOSED
#nothing changed#eren jaeger#eren yeager#eren jaeger x black!reader#eren yaeger#aot fanfiction#snk fanfiction
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Re that post about ShadowClan; honestly I’ve been wondering a lot about your world building take on Brokenstar era ShadowClan! I never said anything because you can write whatever you want and I don’t want to accidentally come off as pressure but like
A lot of your lore about how the elders are the culture keepers and the sort of council of the clan, in every clan (tho their exact role and how they play into clan politics and what they do can vary)
It makes me think about how one of the first things Brokenstar did was remove elders from camp, eventually escalating to not feeding them at all and essentially treating them as worthless (and his downfall being that he didn’t care to actually pay attention to them because he thought they were useless, thus a resistance was able to form and help ThunderClan against Broken)
And Nightstar! Who was already an elder when he became leader! It would be super cool to hear about that in your verse, because I imagine it would go a bit deeper than a regular deputy becoming leader, since elders are such an important part of the clan.
I tend to imagine that ShadowClan actually is pretty open to others joining (mostly bc in canon Boulder and Russetfur weren’t clanborn) and outwordly act like they are aggressive and unwelcoming towards others, and don’t really announce that they accept others? But if a cat comes to them and has nowhere to go, and is willing to join and learn and work, they’ll let them.And I feel like ShadowClan are super close and loyal to each other, even by clan standards. They’re seen as the mean nasty cats but they always have each others backs.
That went into headcanon ramble but ahh basically I’d love to hear your thoughts on ShadowClan and the expansion of world building and lore !!
Imma tack on another question since this is already super long; do you think in TNP the journey cats would talk about and end up feeling close friendships by understanding each other’s clan cultures? Like not just the stereotypes that those outside the clan think but hearing what it’s like in each clan from a member of it, and then having this friend group that sort of mixes those and them having habits they can’t really express around their clan bc they would sound unloyal
((Anyway I love your writing and lore and everything !! Thank you for sharing it !))
Hello there! Oh my is this a long ask. I didn’t even realise tumblr let you send asks this long? I’ll put all of my response under a read-more to preserve people’s dash space.
Thank you very much for such a kind series of compliments! It’s lovely to know how much you’ve enjoyed my work--and how much you’re anticipating my future works. I hope they are worth the wait. And don’t worry about pressuring me--it’s really not possible. I write what I want to write, at my pace. Hearing people’s enthusiasm for my work is always lovely, of course, and I interpret asks like this as support, not pressure.
I think Brokenstar had the capacity to be very interesting (hence why I wrote a story about him) and I thought his treatment of the elders actually showed some political savvy, just like his deposition of the clan’s medicine cats. He worked to undermine and isolate the cats whose authority could rival his own, which--when your goal is total control--is actually not a bad move. It did backfire on him eventually, but only because of Thunderclan’s involvement.
I won’t comment on your Shadowclan headcanons, because (as I’ve said before) I don’t like to talk too much about lore outside of my stories, but I sincerely hope you’ll enjoy whatever next Shadowclan story I put forward. I’m working on something at the moment that I get the feeling you might really like--but we’ll see! You can tell me when you read if I was right about that.
Although, you said “outwardly act like they are aggressive and unwelcoming towards [non-clan cats], and don’t really announce that they accept [non-clan cats]?” and I want to pose a little rhetorical question for you: how would they keep something like that a secret from the other clans, when every moon they attend the gatherings, and every clan announces their kittens and new apprentices? Seems like a difficult subterfuge to manage.
As for your question regarding the New Prophecies--I honestly haven’t thought about it much. My favourite and truest love of Warriors is the old territories, and while I’ll grudgingly accept that those are now gone and will not come back, my preference is not the lake and I don’t really care for the story of travelling together to the promised land.
That said, I don’t actually think the cats would adopt each other’s cultures very readily--that’s a lot easier said than done, for one thing, and for another, I think how much a cat would be interested in learning (and what they would be allowed to learn) is highly individual--and cultural change and adaptation isn’t really an individual endeavour--and also I suspect the clans would be quite cautious around sharing their traditions just because. Culture isn’t just a collection of quirks or rituals: it’s kind of a perspective on the world, and a lot of cultures don’t mesh super well because of these different perspectives, at least not without a long time living together and/or concerted effort. We have the term “culture clash” for a reason, is what I’m saying. Living in close proximity would probably heighten cultural tension between the clans, not reduce it, especially in an already fraught situation.
Anyway, the thing that appeals to me about Warriors and keeps me dipping back into this well is the elaborate world I get to create based (admittedly loosely) on canon, with the code, the laws, the territories, the history, the cultures, the names, so on. Unfortunately for me, Erin Hunter’s preference is actually to erode those things that I personally like best, and they systematically undo the most appealing elements of the series continuously.
The territories? Destroyed. Utterly destroyed.
The names? Increasingly silly nonsense.
The code? Just add something in that undermines the whole concept of the clans, and then--if I’ve heard correctly re: the newest series--just undo the code.
The history? Good luck if you can follow any kind of consistent timeline, and also characters you loved or liked or even just tolerated are now infinitely worse than before, happy super edition!
The culture? Barely there to begin with and yet somehow worse now also, what with Windclan’s dirt boys and whatever else.
So I’m not really anywhere near as interested or invested in the post-original territories experience. I write about it from time to time because that’s just where the characters I’m writing about are, but I kind of do it a little bitterly. I took the destruction of my beloved historical sites very personally.
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⟼ poolside service
⍣ 365 days of sun series | previous | next
・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・
⇢ pairing: iwaizumi hajime/reader/oikawa tooru
⇢ au: 365!au, poly!au, college!au, pro!oikawa
⇢ summary: you’ve just moved into your new house and, wouldn’t you know it, the air conditioner is busted. iwa is quick to remind you that you now own a pool and thank god for that.
⇥ masterlist
⇥ requests are open! | rules
⇢ warnings: established relationship, polyamory, smut, fingering, praise, double vaginal penetration, daddy kink
⇢ word count: 3.4k
・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・
⇢ a/n: uh,,,lit you should use lube if you’re gonna have sex in a pool but bc this is fanfiction, who cares? also the position might be a little unrealistic but wouldn’t it be sexy? alsox2 disregard my overzealous use of the word “pretty”. i have a problem.
“Remind me why we decided to move in the middle of the freakin’ summer?” you asked as you hauled yet another box up the stairs. It was only the fourth or fifth one-- you weren’t too sure-- but you had at least another fifteen or twenty out in the truck Iwaizumi had rented for the day.
Iwa grumbled a noncommittal response and Oikawa sighed, panting as he followed behind you with a box of his own.
“It seemed like such a good idea at the time,” he whined, and you snorted, accidentally inhaling beads of sweat into your sinuses. You felt absolutely disgusting, your shirt sticking to your back and your hair-- already up in an effort to keep your neck cool-- still clung to your skin. The air conditioner wasn’t on yet either, so the inside of your new house was not only sweltering but stifling.
“Well, it wasn’t,” Iwaizumi snapped, dropping the box he held by the front door. There were several already stacked up haphazardly around the foyer and entrance hallway, and you nudged his further in to keep the path clear and to set yours down on top of it. “Is there any reason the damn A/C is still off?”
You shifted your weight, leaning away from him. He was in a foul mood, from both the heat and plain exhaustion after spending the last two weeks packing up after your classes were through for the day.
“We just keep forgetting to turn it on,” you murmured, wiping away the sweat from your forehead with your shirt. It was too tempting to take it off, but then you would have to worry about sunburn and that just...wasn’t appealing. “I’ll go check it now.”
“Goddammit,” he snapped, then softened. “No, I’ll go. I’m sorry for snapping.”
You gave him a small smile as he passed by, but it turned into a grimace when he touched your cheek. “It’s too hot, don’t touch me, ugh.”
It took another twenty minutes before you got all the boxes in, and even then you had to sit around waiting for the air conditioner to even make a dent in the heat of the house, all while sorting the boxes into their appropriate rooms when all you wanted to do was shower in ice water. It was the worst experience you had ever had, and that was including the very memorable day when you had fallen into an algae covered lake while on vacation, and had had to walk around wet and slimy for hours before you could get back to the hotel.
“Ah, hell,” you whined, rubbing at your stinging eyes. Sweat had dripped into them without warning and you groaned in frustration. The air was barely any cooler even though the sun was setting by that point, but the most important boxes containing clothes, the food, and the bedding were unpacked and put away and you were going to do nothing else before you showered.
Oikawa was just stepping out of the bathroom when you walked up, having finished putting things away in his designated room, and smiled. “All yours, princess.”
“Thank you,” you said sarcastically and he laughed, walking off down the hall toweling his hair.
Not even looking at the handle for hot water, you turned it on full cold and stepped under, shivering even as you sighed in relief. The first ten minutes were spent just standing there relishing in the goosebumps breaking out over your skin until you felt a little more human, and you spent another ten working your hair and body into a lather.
You could have cried as you stepped out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and feeling that the air was still far too warm for your liking. Grumbling, you got dressed in a huff before wandering through your new home towards the sound of the TV in the living room.
“Why in god’s name is still so hot in here?” you whined as you fell into the empty spot between Iwaizumi and Oikawa. You realized almost immediately what an awful idea that was when the temperature rose another ten degrees and groaned.
Oikawa was frowning, sweat starting to bead on his forehead again already. “Dunno. We’ll probably have to call someone tomorrow to look at it if it isn’t working then.”
Uncomfortable silence fell as you squirmed, trying to figure out how you were going to sleep through the night if it remained this hot, when there was a smack from your other side.
You and Oikawa both jumped and looked to Iwaizumi, who’s palm was flat against his forehead.
“We’re so stupid,” he said, and you were bewildered when a grin spread across his face. “What was the biggest reason we picked this stupid house in the first place?”
You shook your head, unable to think of anything. Oikawa was mirroring you, eyes narrowed as he wracked his brain.
Iwaizumi groaned, glaring at you. “The pool, you idiots. Let’s go find our suits and--”
“Fuck that,” you said, standing up. You couldn’t believe you had forgotten that the three of you literally owned an in-ground pool now, complete with a built-in hot tub to boot. And there was a six-foot privacy fence to keep the neighbors from peeking.
“Wha--?” Iwaizumi started to say, irritated at your dismissal of his idea.
Until your shirt hit him in the face.
Oikawa laughed at that, eyeing your swaying hips and naked back. “You little minx. I like the way you think.”
You grinned over your shoulder, shedding your shorts and leaving them laying in the middle of the floor as you opened the sliding glass door. The lights in the pool were already on, creating a rippling light show beneath the surface of the water, and you disrupted it when you jumped in with a splash.
It was followed a moment later by another one, and you surfaced to find Oikawa fully naked and swimming towards you with a devious smirk. The water was blessedly cool, and your hard nipples did not go unnoticed. Iwa was taking a little more time, carefully dropping his shirt on one of the deck chairs as he watched you and Oikawa splash around and giggle, already feeling you up.
“Come on, Iwa. We won’t bite,” Oikawa said as he dragged you backwards through the water towards the deep end.
Your stomach dropped a little when you felt your feet leave the bottom, but Oikawa kept you up in his strong arms. Still, you squirmed around until you could loop yours around his neck and your legs around his waist.
“Careful, princess,” he warned playfully, feeling your hot core settle against his soft cock ( or at least, it was soft until he felt that, anyway). “It’s a bit early to christen the pool like that when we haven’t even managed the bedroom yet.”
You giggled in his ear at that. “Says who?”
Another set of arms wound around you then, and hot breath hit your neck a split second before teeth did. Iwaizumi was apparently not as reserved as Oikawa was, as he was rock hard against your ass.
“You two are fucking ridiculous,” he snapped, leading a trail from your shoulder up to your ear, nipping the lobe a little sharply.
You squealed in response, arching into Oikawa’s chest. They grinned wickedly at each other, and Iwaizumi pulled you back to lean against his chest.
Your tits were now above the water line, exposing your hard nipples to the warm air and Iwa’s touches. He palmed both breasts in his rough hands, pinching and twisting the hard little buds between his fingers and your legs tightened around Oikawa’s hips in response. Your nails dug into the skin of his biceps, your head tipping back onto Iwa’s shoulder as you sighed.
Both their cocks were fully hard and rubbing between the cheeks of your ass and the lips of your wet cunt, Oikawa’s tip grazing over your clit nonstop. Your toes were starting to curl from the endless pleasure, small noises that might have been pleas escaping your lips.
“That feels so good, Haji,” you murmured, slipping your fingers into the wet strands of his dark hair. His lips were still pressing against your skin, teeth leaving bright red marks all over the side of your neck and shoulder that you knew you would be covering up tomorrow.
“Hold her up, Haji,” Oikawa said, and you whined when his hands left your tits to brace beneath your knees. The new position had them up near your shoulders, your pussy on full display under the water, and you shivered at the rush of coolness against your hot lips. “God you look so pretty like this, princess.”
The tip of one long, slender finger skimmed your outer lips, teasing as it skipped over your clit and traced down the other side. “And so wet already. Very naughty.” He added a second finger and made a round again, listening to your breathing hitch and huff when he came close and missed again, and laughed.
“You’re such a tease, Tooru,” you whined, toes curling as he came close yet again and missed yet again. “So mean.”
“Awe, don’t say that, princess,” he tutted as his thumb finally pressed to your clit causing your hips to jump in Iwaizumi’s hold.
His hands squeezed tighter, spreading you open further to Oikawa’s featherlight touches. The cool water intensified the feeling of his fingers on your clit, and when one finger teased your slick opening, you gasped.
Iwaizumi was nudging at your cheek, still grinding between your ass cheeks, and when you turned your head to him his lips landed on yours. His tongue immediately swept between your lips without permission, delving and tasting and swallowing the noises you were making, his fingers so tight they were sure to leave marks in the morning.
“You’re already so needy and we haven’t even done anything,” Oikawa said, feeling your walls clench as he pressed in to the second knuckle and grinning. “Tell me how good it feels, hm?”
Iwa pulled away, listening to your whiny pants, lips shiny and swollen and eyes glassy. “Feels good, Tooru but I need more, please. Mm, want you to stretch me out on your fingers so I can take both your cocks.”
“Oh, is that what we’re doing tonight?” Iwaizumi asked teasingly. His cock jumped at the thought. He always loved seeing stretched to the point you were crying, begging for more even though you can’t take it, so full that your orgasms were empty as you fluttered around them. “You’ll have to ask nicely if you want that, princess.”
You gasped as Oikawa slipped a second finger inside you, eased by the copious amounts of slick you were producing now as his thumb ground against your clit.
Iwa wanted so badly to join him in teasing you open and to orgasm, stuffing you full of their fingers as they prepped you to take them, but the view over your shoulder as Oikawa’s slender fingers pumped in and out of you was making up for it.
Your breath rattled as they scissored inside you, the words pouring out of your lips in a whiny, high pitched tone. “Please please please, can you both fuck me? Want both of your cocks in my pussy tonight, please?”
A third finger fit and spread and you keened when every pass began to grind against the soft spot inside you. You couldn’t help it, wailing as you clamped down around them, and Oikawa slowed down to work you through it.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cum,” Iwa growled into your ear, but you barely processed what he said in your addled state. His muscles were straining with the effort it took to hold you like that for so long, but it was worth it to hear your breathy moans on the air. “Since you asked so nicely, I suppose we should reward you, huh, Tooru?”
Oikawa nodded as he started up again, feeling your walls flutter and clench from overstimulation, and he carefully avoided your clit for the time being. You were so wet now that a fourth finger slid in with no effort, but you gasped anyway at the stretch. It was a familiar sting that ebbed away so quickly you hardly noticed it, focusing on the feel of them inside you and you moaned Oikawa’s name.
“Feels so good, Tooru,” you said, fingers tightening in Iwa’s hair. The pleasure was surging again, still too intense but you reveled in it. “Always feels so good when you stretch me. Wanna take your cocks, please.”
Oikawa’s cock throbbed at your praise, neglected and achingly hard as he worked you open.
Iwa pressed a kiss to your sweaty cheek and said, “Patience, pretty girl. You’ll get what you want soon, but only if you let Tooru work that pretty hole open.”
You whined again, toes curling as you tried to do what he said, but you wanted it so bad. At last, Oikawa dragged his fingers from you and nestled his cock between your swollen folds, taking your legs from Iwaizumi and placing them over his arms. Iwaizumi repositioned as well, letting his cock slide alongside Oikawa’s while he cupped your ass, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh.
“Ready, princess?” Iwa asked, prodding your drenched hole and you nodded, toes curling when his head slid in. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, stuffing you full in one thrust and you couldn’t help the scream that filled the thick night air. He stopped when he was fully seated, feeling you clench and spasm around him and released a deep, stuttery moan into your ear.
You reached up and gripped the back of his neck, head tilting to the side and lips parting in a soundless ‘o’ as Oikawa eased in as well. Your back arched, but you couldn’t go anywhere pinned between them the way you were, and tears filled your eyes at the intense, pleasurable stretch as both their cocks settled against your cervix.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” you breathed, high pitched and scratchy, nails digging into Iwaizumi’s neck and Oikawa’s shoulder. “So good, so full, I can’t take it.”
Both men were panting as they felt your walls trying to squeeze down around them, fluttering uselessly and when Iwaizumi pulled out, you almost cried.
“Ah, ah, princess. You asked for this, remember?” he asked, and his hips snapped back into yours, hilting again while Oikawa pulled out. “You can’t back out now.”
“Never,” you cried, tears pricking your eyes as they alternated fucking you. You were never empty for a second but when they both snapped into your tight pussy, you squealed. “Want you to cum in me at the same time, fill me up, please.”
They listened to your babbling with smirks, eyes rolling as their veiny cocks rubbed and filled every inch of your cunt, tips taking turns kissing your cervix.
“You sure, princess? I’m not sure you can take that,” Oikawa teased, slowing his hips, and laughed when your head whipped up to look at him, pupils blown wide and pleading.
“I can take it, Tooru. I promise I can take it, please don’t stop,” you begged, almost sobbing when Iwaizumi slowed as well. Both of them now were just rocking their hips, both settled deep in your stretched pussy, and could feel every vein and the crown of their cocks dragging against your walls. “Pleasepleaseplease, daddy.”
You had whined it accidentally, but Iwa reacted with a sharp jerk of his hips to the name and you cried with relief.
“Say that again, princess,” he groaned, pulling out to the tip. As soon as you gasped the name again, he was fucking up into you with abandon, joined by Oikawa a moment later.
He was amused by the turn of events, but he was turned on by the bounce of your tits with every hard thrust, your head thrown back and moans and whines flowing nonstop from your parted lips.
“Gonna cum,” you cried, toes curling as someone’s cock tapped your cervix. “Gonna cum all over your cocks. Daddy, please, let me--”
It was like they both knew who you were referring to, because Oikawa said nothing while Iwa groaned low in his throat, teeth nipping your pulse point before commanding you.
“Cum for us, pretty girl. Gonna fill you up full of our cum but we need you tight around us first. Gonna make you feel so good, princess,” he snarled, and his thrusts changed so that he and Oikawa were filling you at the same time.
Oikawa watched your eyes go wide, mouth open in a silent scream as you came, fluttering and trying to clamp down on both their cocks but it was useless. He rocked his hips gently, stimulating your g-spot while Iwa’s fingers found your clit and circled roughly. You jerked, your voice breaking as you screamed their names, first Oikawa’s and then Iwa’s.
You were jelly in their arms after that, fingers wrapped weakly around their wrists but you whined when Oikawa pulled out of you.
“Sorry, princess. Daddy has to cum, then I’ll fill this pretty pussy back up,” he said and leaned down to kiss you softly. But you tasted too sweet and his tongue dipped into your mouth for more, swallowing the sounds you made as Iwaizumi resumed fucking you.
He sounded breathless when he came, a low, raspy groan filling your ears as a warmth filled your cunt, and he paused for a moment. Oikawa pressed in beside him again, and you tensed in their arms, moaning until Iwaizumi pulled out.
“My turn, pretty girl. One more and then we’ll clean you up,” Oikawa promised against your lips. He wasn’t gentle as he chased his pleasure, listening to you babble and plead for more, you can’t take it, feels so good, fuck*. “Shit, you’re still so tight after that.”
He tensed up as the pleasure broke over him in waves, hips rocking as he spent himself inside your womb, cum mixing with Iwa’s and you basked in the full feeling.
Iwa picked you up in a bridal carry and waded to the side of the pool, where Oikawa helped pull you up onto the cement deck. Your legs were sore and stiff from being held up for so long, and he just lifted you up again, walking naked into the house and dripping water everywhere.
It was, to his surprise, cool inside and you shivered as the air cooled the water on your skin. Iwaizumi’s footsteps headed to the thermostat while he carried you to the bathroom.
“Let’s do that again,” you said, nuzzling your nose against Oikawa’s neck. He smelled like chlorine and his body wash, and you couldn’t resist the need to press open mouth kisses all over his skin.
He laughed, setting you down on your feet and reaching for the towel over the shower rack. “Sure, princess. But not tonight. We’re gonna go to bed.”
“Well duh,” you answered as you helped each other towel off. Iwa joined you a moment later, letting you rub him down with the fluffy towel. “I’m exhausted.”
Iwa laughed, snatching the towel from your hands and throwing it on the sink. “Then let’s get you into bed, hm?”
You squealed when he hoisted you up and over his shoulder, smacking his bare back as he carried you down the hall. Oikawa couldn’t seem to resist the urge to pester you, poked your nose and tugging your hair all the way down, listening to you whine and slap at his hands playfully.
Iwaizumi dumped you onto the bed, grunting as you bounced and then bounced some more when your partners fell in beside you. The covers were pulled up and you were tucked between them, head resting on Oikawa’s chest while Iwa’s arm lay across your waist, fingers laced with both of yours.
In an instant the steady rise and fall of Oikawa’s chest beneath you and their combined warmth lulled you towards sleep, but not before you murmured, “I love you both.”
Iwa’s voice was thick and rumbly as he said it back, squeezing your hands. Oikawa pressed his lips to your forehead before he answered, light and airy and full of happiness.
And how could he not be? He had everything he wanted in his arms.
⇥ masterlist
⇥ taglist: @umihami, @kunimwuah, @visaintes
#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#oikawa tooru x reader#tooru oikawa x reader#iwaizumi hajime x reader#hajime iwaizumi x reader#oikawa x reader x iwaizumi#.poolsideservice
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