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poppy-metal · 2 days

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MARRIAGE COUNSELING W ART PLEASEEEEEEEE GOD THE DEVASTATION THAT TAKES PLACE ON THAT COUCH

i think about it alot. tashi staying with patrick, her injury never happening. your arts college girlfriend and now you're married and it feels fucking stagnant, your relationship. but neither of you wants to give up. neither of you wants to reveal to the other true feelings.

under the cut because this got long and i have a whole au in my hear around this concept

you're only in counseling because of tashi. because shes still in your lives, her and patrick. and she recommended it to art when they were having one of their 'friend' lunches. and now here you are, because of course art took her advice.

he hasn't said anything, though. despite pleading for this. saying he wanted to save your marriage, that he wanted to love you how you should be loved but he didn't know how.

so here you are, on opposite ends of the couch, with the counselor staring at the empty space between you like that in itself is very telling. you suppose it is, in a way. couples who want to stay together should be unified, shouldn't they? you imagine how it would feel, if art had sat next to you. put an arm around you. squeezed you to his side. would you even be able to relax into him? its been so long since you touched eachother that way.

"so im picking up on some distance here," your therapist says. shes a small woman. almost swallowed by her chair. her glasses are perched on her nose as she gazes imperiously at empty space separating you and art. "not just physical either, though thats rather obviously there. but emotional distance. do either of you wanna comment on that?"

you cut a glance at art, expecting him to speak up since this was his idea - well. tashi's. but he just looks down at his lap, quiet. spins his wedding band around his finger.

you feel an anger so intense it pricks your eyes with tears.

"well, i guess you could start with the fact that coming here wasn't even either of our idea. it was his friends."

and now. here art speaks. his head jerks up and she shoots you an annoyed look. "you don't have to say it like that. you always say it like that. her name is tashi and she is my friend. and it was her suggestion, yeah, but it was a good one."

you look at the therapist - janet. raise your eyebrows in arts direction like, get a load of this guy. your legs cross and you start picking at a stray string from the couch.

"first words of the session and its to talk about another woman."

arts inhale is sharp and you can feel his eyes on you but you dont look at him. you can't. you wont. you're right, anyway. he can try to deny it all he wants but you know - you know what you are to him. you know where all your problems stem. you dont need to be here to make any grand discoveries over a fact you've resigned yourself too.

"i see." janet says. "and art having a relationship with this other woman upsets you."

"everything upsets her." art cuts in, sounding tired. his elbow is braced on the arm of the couch and hes chewing on his thumb in one of his nervous gestures. he always did that, as long as you've known him. he was a nail biter, he'd chew his lips raw, he'd nibble on straws, the ends of his pens. he was either lost in thought or agitated. your guess was the latter. "nothing i do makes her happy."

"is this true? are you unhappy with art?"

your skin feels hot. you shift around in your seat. the attention is all on you, and it feels like you've done something wrong, even though you know its literally janets job to ask questions.

"more like i know I'm not what he wants and that makes me...... really fucking sad."

art knees almost knock against yours as he turns his body to face you, giving you his full attention the first time today. you cant meet his eyes still, so you look at the faded spot on his jeans. light blue, like his eyes. you wonder how hes looking at you. cant make yourself look up to see.

"what." he stops. seems to gather some thoughts. tries again, with a steadier tone. "what are you talking about."

you try not to roll your eyes. your arm flings out limply.

"just that this whole thing is a joke, art." and you let out an exasperated laugh, even though nothing is funny. nothing has been funny or light between you two in a long time. "we're only here because the girl you really wanted to marry, told you to get your fucking shit together. you didn't ask us to come here because you wanted to mend something, you're here to please tashi. because if playing a good husband is a role she wants for you - well, you want to play it right, dont you?"

its quiet after that. in the silence you cant help but think about those early days. when you'd been full of love and light and art seemed to be really happy with you. you'd go on dates to the movies, walk through the park together with your hands swinging between you. laugh together and steal kisses whenever you could. you felt high back then.

it didn't even matter that art had a crush on tashi, because hell, you had one too, at the time. but she'd started dating patrick, and they seemed to mesh well together. they were both so intense and passionate. back then, you'd been alot closer to tashi yourself. patrick too. you remember the way she'd rant about how much she fucking hated him, pacing around your room and calling him every name under the sun. and you'd sit there with eager curiosity, and ask her why she didn't end it then. if he makes you so angry, why stay?

and she'd get this faraway look in her eyes. kind of wistful. kind of sad. kind of happy.

"because he makes me feel fucking alive. hes like a - like a drug or something. i cant quit. its addictive, you know?"

that stuck with you. it still sticks with you. you remember being envious of that kind of passion. youe relationship with art had always been so easy. you dont think you'd ever fought by that point. you loved art. you felt safe with art. but were you addicted to him? if you broke up - would you feel withdrawal symptoms?

sometimes you layed awake at night and thought about starting a fight - breaking up for no reason. just to see if he'd fight for you back, if the missing of eachother would be so intense one of you would cave.

but somehow you knew that wouldn't be the case. thats just not how you and art operated. if you got angry, he wouldn't rise to meet you, he'd back down. if you ended things, he wouldn't chase you, he'd let you go.

patrick and tashi were fire and brimstone and you and art was ice and you were....... dirt. solid. walked upon. dependable and not at all exciting.

when art had proposed to you after college graduation it wasn't spur of the moment as it had been with patrick when he'd swept tashi up with a ring and a elopement to vegas. it was talked about and agreed upon and you knew it was coming.

you still said yes.

"you think," and arts voice has a barely concealed tremble to it that makes you look up, finally. you're shocked to see he looks wounded. so many of his expressions you can count on one hand - and this - this wasn't one of them. his eyes are dark, stormy. "you think i dont care about our marriage beyond what someone else has to say about it? you really think that?"

you hate the sliver of guilt you feel, because its not a crazy thing to feel.

"yeah, i really do."

because well, that's the truth of the matter isn't it? you and your husband stare at eachother. and it feels like you're looking at a stranger. not the man who's freckles you used to kiss. who's fears you knew. who's hands you know every callous of, every divot and fingerprint.

"it seems you two have very different views of how the other views this marriage." janet cuts in, sounding curious. she taps her pen against the open notepad on her lap. "art, would you like to chime in on why you wanted to come here? even at the suggestion of someone else?"

art stares at you for a long moment. his face is unreadable to you. his jaw works before his chest expands on an exhale and he looks away.

"i guess i - i just didn't realize how..... stagnant things had gotten until it was pointed out to me. harshly." he winces, and you wonder exactly what tashi had to say to him. you haven't talked to the other woman for some time. contact fizzling out after your marriage to art. he flicks a glance to you, then away again. "im not the best at being aware of shit going on around me." his hand comes up to rub nervously at his neck. "i guess you could say im good at brushing things under the rug. going through the motions. that sort of thing."

janet nods like this makes sense to her. well, great, you think. you know my husband more than i do.

"you're not a fan of confrontation, are you?"

art actually laughs. a genuine one. one that brings a dimple to his cheek and flashes his teeth. you stare at it, like its an exotic animal, and you wont see it again. quickly you catalog the expression in your memory, so you dont forget what he looks like when hes happy.

"yeah, no." he shakes his head. "but I think thats part of the problem. I've obviously let too much shit get put under the rug and now its so full other people are noticing."

you look down at your hands, lips pressed together. your face burns at the knowledge that tashi and by extension - patrick - know your marriage is in shambles. how embarrassing, to be caught lacking in such a momentous way. to come up short and have your husbands friends know about it. you wonder - does he talk about all the ways you make him miserable with them? does patrick shake his head, say, "she's sucking the life out of you, man." does tashi look at him with pity? like hes some poor abused cat that needs to be let in from the rain?

the rain of your marriage.

the rain of you.

you're the storm. you're the problem. you're not enough. art needs fire. you're not even dirt, you're glass. and you can feel yourself breaking.

"that clearly hit a nerve, my dear." janets voice is soft. soothing. she hands you a tissue and you realize you'd begun to cry. "do you want to explain what you're feeling about what art said?"

"i...."

you dab dab dab at your eyes. sniffle. look around the room, trying to collect your thoughts. they feel like flyaway dandelions. you dont know which of them to grasp.

a warm hand settles over yours in your lap and you startle. its arts hand. warm and calloused and tan, covering yours. the gold glint of his wedding ring winks at you, the engraved words etched into them, "my soft epilogue". a shortened version of your favorite qoute i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love.

at the time, that's what art was to you. your life before him hadn't been easy. being with art had felt like coming home from a long day and falling into a soft bed. it had felt like being able to land after weeks of being made to fly.

you turned your palm up, so he could slide his fingers between yours. he squeezed your hand.

"i think, i. i think i just think - I'm a failure." your bottom lip wobbles. you look at your enterwoven fingers and it makes you so sad that you haven't done the simple gesture of holding your husbands hand in months. "the two most important people in your life are. are so passionate and loud. and i see. i see how happy they make you - and i cant - i cant b-be that for you. we aren't - im not - you dont need me. im not a limb for you how they are. you could extract yourself from me and be. be happier."

your breath shudders out of you.

"you don't need me." you echo.

you wait for him to pull his hand away. this is more than you thought you'd share. some of it you weren't even aware of till the words were spilling from your lips. but they ring true.

without patrick and tashi art would drown. without you..... he'd float just fine.

"and that's important to you." janet says. a statement not a question. "you want to feel needed by art, and you feel as though you aren't. that his needs are met better with his friends than with you."

you nod slowly.

"baby." the word sends a shock through you. not the word itself but how its said. art calls you baby all the time, in a monotonous kind of way. routine. now he says it softly. with feeling. he lets go of your hand in favor of cupping your cheek, still damp with tears, turning your face to his. he looks pained. "of course i need you. i know i haven't been good at showing it. i just - you shut down - after we got married. you've been like a fucking ghost. like you dont want me to touch you. like i could dissappear for all you care and you'd just carry on. i don't know. but i need you, okay? i. need. you."

both hands cup your face, he makes you stare right into him. the conviction in his voice takes your breath away. theres a fire burning there you've thought long put out.

"obviously we have shit to sort out, and we will. but you've got to. you've got to know that. tashi only pushed me to do this because she how - how desperate i was. that's all."

you inhale deeply. exhale. swallow hard. tears cling to your lashes. you reach a hand up to clutch at one of arts wrists. eyes fluttering automatically when you do. you feel grounded again. less like you might float away.

"okay."

"yeah?"

"yeah...." and you smile. it trembles across your lips. but its there. "we'll sort our shit."

art lets out a relieved breath. kisses your forehead, lingering there. the gesture so tender you get emotional again. you want to crawl into his lap, have him wrap you in his arms. you want to feel held by him, like you used to.

"our time is up." janet sets her pen down. smiles. "but i think that was a wonderful first session. i can see the love between you hasn't faded, and that's more i can say for alot of couples who come to see me. keep your chin up."

#ask #poppy fic #i guess?#see its complex right because reader definitely isn't crazy art DID feel some kind of way abt tashi #and still does #but hes in love w us. he is.#its just different. like.#its complicated but its like. art cant allow himself to feel passion because he thinks its too much #and you WANT passion like patrick and tashi have. you want it mixed in with the comfort and stability w art.#but arts self worth is low so hes like. why fight passionately for anything if im not enough im not enough ig #and thats sm he needs to overcome #because its making you feel unwanted #also theres definitely some feelings for patrick and tashi on your side as well #tashi definitely misses you and wishes you would talk to her #so many more thoughts on this #anyway #art donaldson x reader #reader and art just need to FUCK real rawdog real sloppy #art donaldson #challengers x reader #art x reader #failmarriage au

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egcdeath · 1 day

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the old college try

summary: you reconnect with an unexpected guest at the creator of your scholarship’s dinner party.

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

warnings: stanford era, sassy reader, situationship, a touch of family drama, mentions of putting an etsy love spell on someone, arguing, emotional immaturity, maybe not the best decisions from our lovely characters, kindaaaa open ending

word count: 4.6k

author’s note: i am absolutely addicted to all things ex!patrick. i hope you enjoy reading this!

“This is my son, Patrick.”

Your stomach dropped the second the woman’s son turned around, familiar light eyes and scruffy appearance immediately taking you back to your tumultuous third semester of college.

You remembered it like it was yesterday—the extended periods without contact followed by a surprise appearance at your dorm room, or the drawn out arguments on the phone that left every passerby giving you—the angry woman on the phone in her pajamas on the sidewalk—a strange look, and even the few good times you had with him.

You blinked once to make sure your eyes weren’t deceiving you, then felt an onslaught of realization hit you at once. Despite your several month on-and-off situationship with Patrick, you never learned much identifying information about him, including his last name. In fact, that had been something you’d argued about multiple times. The two of you barely knew each other, save for each others’ bodies, which you unfortunately both knew very well.

Had you known that Patrick was the son of Mrs. Zweig, donor to your scholarship, you wouldn’t have accepted the invite to this family event.

Mrs. Zweig seemed to recognize the shock and confusion on both of your faces. While you didn’t think your mouth was agape, there was certainly a high chance that it was. “You two already know each other?” she asked, looking amused.

“No,” you quickly replied.

“Yeah,” Patrick said, his words coming out at the same time as yours.

“Yes,” you tried again, trying to get your story straight.

“No,” he said this time, your voices overlapping once more.

She glanced between the two of you skeptically before humming aloud. “Hmm. Well, I’ll let you two chat and connect, or reconnect, whatever it is you’re doing.”

She was off without much more fanfare, leaving you very flustered in her wake.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Patrick asked you, getting right in your face like he always did when the two of you argued. It was almost slightly nostalgia-inducing.

“What are you doing here?” It was a stupid question, given that he had been introduced as the son of your beneficiary. Of course he would be at a family function. This was his family, after all. But you were flustered, as anyone else in your shoes would be, and words were currently failing you.

“Zweig doesn’t ring a bell?” he asked. When you responded with a wordless shake of your head, he chuckled in annoyance and disbelief. It all felt very familiar. “What was it that you always used to say to me? ‘You don’t even know what my middle name is?’”

You crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your eyes, not knowing where the discussion was going, but not liking it regardless.

In response to your non-verbal response, he leaned in close to your ear, clearly not trying to let on to the rest of the attendees the level of drama that was currently occurring in their midst.

“You hypocrite.”

The words he spat were simple, but effective—leaving you simultaneously filled with rage and oddly, a little aroused.

He walked off after that, using self restraint that you weren’t actually sure that he had. Knowing Patrick, he would be back and spewing vitriol in your face or in your ear whenever he next had the opportunity.

You were taking a very different approach to the situation. Now that you knew Patrick was at the event, you were determined to do everything humanly possible to avoid bumping into him.

You talked to any and everyone you could find, trying to ignore the fact that you could feel Patrick’s eyes searing into you, no matter what part of the room you were in. He was clearly waiting for the moment he could pounce on you once again, evidenced by the way he seemed to start going on the move whenever you stopped talking to someone.

Somehow, you were still one step quicker than him, quickly maneuvering yourself into new conversations or inserting yourself into the conversations of others.

You weren’t sure what Patrick so badly wanted to tell you anyway. Maybe taunt you about some new conquest he was with, or to beg you to come home with him after dinner. Unfortunately, the latter proposition didn’t sound all that bad.

Other than your issue of avoiding conversation with Patrick, you were also facing another challenge: People trying to introduce the two of you to each other. You weren’t sure what it was that made people think that the two of you needed to meet so badly—from Patrick’s mom, who had been insisting for weeks that you meet her son, to a random cousin who happened to think that you’d like each other. You wished you could tell them that you’d already met each other, and that you’d magnificently crashed and burned.

Briefly wanting to get away from the repetitive small talk and questions about if you’ve met the person you were in a messy situationship with, you found your way to a bathroom—but not without being followed in.

“What the fuck?” you said immediately as the door behind you shut.

“We need to talk,” Patrick said plainly, locking the door behind him.

“Unlock that,” you demanded, not because you were all that afraid of your safety, but because you wanted a quick exit plan if he started to really piss you off.

“Fine,” he conceded, unlocking the door. “But don’t act weird if someone walks in on us.”

“Walks in on us?” you laughed, parroting his words. “There won’t be anything to walk in on. I mean, you can’t seriously think I’m going to fuck you at a family dinner.”

You were about 95% sure of your words, but that other 5% was thinking about the logistics of getting your tight dress off in that small bathroom.

“I didn’t come in here to fuck you,” he explained.

“Then what are you here for?” you asked, confused about what else he could possibly want from you.

“We need to get our story straight. I can’t have a repeat of that conversation with my mom.”

“Why does it matter? I’ll just stay away from you for the rest of the night. I’ll expect you to do the same, then there won’t be any issues.”

“That won’t work. Have you seen the seating chart for tonight?”

“Seating chart?” you scoffed. It seemed ridiculous, but it made sense. For people rich enough to create and fund scholarships, it made sense that a large dinner for friends and family members would come equipped with a seating chart. Besides, you were sure there were people with dietary restrictions in your midst. “How would I have known there was a seating chart, let alone look at it ahead of time?”

“Well, a little spoiler: you and I are sitting next to each other.”

“What the hell? Who did that?”

“I don’t know! Stop looking at me like this is my fault.” Now that he mentioned it, you were currently glaring at Patrick. “It must’ve been my mom. I swear she’s been telling everyone that you and I need to get together. Everyone’s been telling me all night that we need to meet.”

“God, I thought it was just me. Is this a family of matchmakers or something? Or are they trying to help you out with your fear of commitment?”

“I don’t have- can you just focus instead of trying to be funny? We’re gonna be next to each other all night and people are going to be asking us questions. So what are we going to tell them?”

“You don’t want to tell them about you leading me on for months?” you asked innocently, not trying very hard to hide the contempt behind your words.

“No, you’re right,” Patrick agreed with you, fake thoughtfulness in his tone. “Now that I think about it, maybe we should tell them about the love spell you paid some Etsy witch to put on me.”

You instantly felt your cheeks warm at the mention of such an embarrassing action.

“That was a joke and you know it.” It wasn’t a joke. It was a dark period of time for you. “So what do you suggest we tell them?”

“That we’re just friends,” he said simply.

“They aren’t gonna be suspicious that you’ve never brought me up before?” you probed, part of you wondering the logic behind his decision, and the other part of you wondering if he’d ever brought you, his situationship, up to his friends or family.

“Doubt it,” he dismissed with ease.

You were only a little disappointed, but not at all surprised. “So what’s the story?”

“That we met when I was visiting Stanford.”

“That’s true, though.”

“Just leave it at that. We met once or twice through mutual friends,” he directed.

“Okay,” you shrugged. “Anything else I should know?”

“Just that you look really hot tonight,” he said, biting his lip and unabashedly checking you out.

“Okay. Goodbye,” you didn’t bother humoring him, though his words did satisfy you. You left the bathroom and didn’t spare a glance back, even as you heard him leave a few minutes later.

After the torture that was socializing with people whose sole purpose seemed to be setting you up with your ex fling, you’d all been summoned to sit down for dinner. Just as Patrick warned you, you sat down at a seat that was directly next to him. You wished you could switch seats with someone else, putting their nameplate next to him and hoping that no one would be any wiser, but you couldn’t see a world where that would work out for you.

Eventually, Patrick sat down next to you, clearly trying his best not to look at you too closely, lest someone catch on to the fact that you two knew each other.

You did your best to be a fly on the wall in the conversation that the people around you were having. You poked around at your salad and wondered if you focused hard enough on the leaves, if you’d be able to disappear.

“So, have you two had the chance to meet?” someone asked from across the table, directing the question to you and Patrick. Clearly, your plan of disappearing hadn’t worked out after all.

“Yeah! We actually know each other already,” you explained, directing a friendly smile towards whatever cousin or family friend you were speaking to. Clearly, Patrick didn’t trust your answering abilities, as he butt into the conversation before you could finish speaking.

“We have some mutual friends, so we’ve crossed paths once or twice,” Patrick clarified, attempting to give more context to your relationship. Technically, it was true. While you weren’t necessarily friends with the man who inadvertently set you up, you’d been invited to a party being hosted by some tennis player in your accounting class who played with Patrick at some point, and met at that very event.

Despite the many partygoers, Patrick seemed instantly drawn to you, or at least, was instantly attracted to you, based on the way that he openly checked you out as he approached you. Normally, that kind of thing would make you roll your eyes and walk away, but you’d been intrigued by his looks and his shameless demeanor. If only you could go back in time to tell yourself to roll your eyes and walk away.

“But we don’t know each other very well,” you added. That, you firmly believed was true. Patrick may have known what position made you cum quickest, but he didn’t know a thing that actually mattered about you. He probably couldn’t even tell you what your major was.

“What a coincidence you ended up here, then,” the other man, whose name you couldn’t remember, commented. “Did Patrick help you get the scholarship?”

“What?” you tried not to sound too offended, though you very much were. You tried to remind yourself that saying the wrong thing could cost you your entire higher education, and ended up laughing off the very rude allegation. “It’s really just a funny coincidence.”

To your surprise, Patrick jumped to your defense. “Unlike you and your seat on the board, there’s no nepotism here. We met long after she already got the scholarship, which she earned. She’s one of the most dedicated students I know.”

His words surprised you. The argumentative ones calling out his relative, not so much, but you were a little impressed by the way that he stood firm on the fact that you were a good student. Sure, he witnessed you studying for midterms in your dorm room every now and then—even if at the time he’d been trying to distract you from your work to get some attention—and now that you were thinking about it, he did bring you flowers after he found out you’d made it onto the Dean’s List.

Maybe Patrick hadn’t been all that bad of a… you didn’t even know what, after all. But that was certainly a thought you were only entertaining due to his sweet behavior he was currently exhibiting. The fact that you were a whole year out from your entanglement and still couldn’t define what the hell happened between the two of you was a testament to how much of a mess your relationship was.

“Not that you know too many students,” his relative laughed in that stuck-up rich person's laugh they all seemed to have. You tried to ignore how you were already getting caught in family politics, getting your academic ability called into question in the crossfire of an easy insult Patrick dealt to his family member. “Pat’s too busy going around the world hitting balls. How’s that going, by the way?”

From what you’d observed in your own efforts to see what he was up to, they weren’t going great. Notably, after you’d cut things off with him, his performance decreased significantly.

“It’s going well,” Patrick said with false confidence that you saw right through. If you could see right through it, you were sure that his family members were able to do the same. A brief glance at the woman in front of you who was clearly attempting to suppress a laugh confirmed this for you immediately.

It was almost a little pathetic to see, watching Patrick lie so obviously to an audience that couldn’t even pretend to believe him. Seeing how he stepped in to help you out, it was only fair that you did the same for him. Even if he hadn’t done so, you were starting to become embarrassed for him.

“Have you been to any of his matches recently?” you asked, interrupting their mockery of Patrick. “He did a really great job at the French Open. I mean, even making it to the French Open is really impressive.”

Not that you’d been at any of the matches, but you occasionally Googled his name to see what he was up to. Even more occasionally, you turned on ESPN to see if you could catch any footage of him playing. But it wasn’t like you even really cared.

Okay. You cared a little bit.

Most of the time, you were rooting for him to fail, as is the right of all bitter exes. But now was not the time for you to share that information. Not when Patrick was looking at you like you were crazy, and his family members were eyeing you suspiciously.

That was when you remembered that the two of you weren’t supposed to know each other very well. You instantly tried your best to cover up your tracks. “But I don’t know a lot about tennis, that’s just what our friend told me.” Considering that you hadn’t spoken to Art since Accounting 223 ended, he did not actually share this information with you.

“Huh. Do you guys talk about Patrick a lot?” you were trying your best not to fold under the skeptical look she was giving you.

“Only when he’s doing something cool. Which isn’t very often,” it was a good save, which left the rest of the table laughing at your little dig at Patrick. You were starting to understand his family dynamic a little more, and it didn’t exactly seem like a pleasant one.

You could practically feel his betrayed gaze searing into you, but you did your best to ignore it. You were already feeling guilt gnaw into you about hanging him back out to dry with a family who already liked to pick on him.

“You know, that actually reminds me. You said you don’t know much about tennis, but I remember seeing you play a little bit. How’s that going?” Patrick asked you, his question obviously trying to reveal something embarrassing about you. You instantly felt the blood drain from your face at the mention of your attempt to play the sport.

Your brief stint with tennis was mainly born out of your desire to see Patrick more often. After your run-in at his friend’s party, you were determined to put yourself in the type of situations that would allow you to ‘accidentally’ run into Patrick.

You started off simple, going to the tennis matches for Stanford’s men’s team, hoping that Patrick would eventually show up in the stands to support his friend. Despite your incessant searching of the stands, you were never able to find Patrick amongst the crowd of students, fans, and supportive family members.

Never one to give up easily, you decided to take matters into your own hands. Maybe if you were a little sportier, Patrick would take an interest in you, reaching out to you so you wouldn’t ever have to make the first move. You spent the evening perusing sporting goods stores with your roommate, putting cute tennis outfits and equipment that you couldn’t really afford on a credit card.

The next morning, the two of you got up bright and early to hit the tennis courts before anyone else arrived. The game seemed simple enough, but proved to be far more difficult than either of you anticipated. After half an hour of attempting to play with frankly awful technique, you decided to call it quits and do a photoshoot instead.

Feeling satisfied with pictures that featured your best angles and the slightest hint of breeze blowing up your skirt, you decided to post your photos on social media with a caption about how much you loved tennis. That was sure to get Patrick’s attention.

Just as you’d suspected, not long after you posted, you received a message from Patrick, casually asking about how things were going with you. Your faux interest in tennis had been promptly abandoned.

Surprised at the fact that Patrick was bringing up your very blatant bait of him, you were caught slightly off guard. “Oh, I was never really super into it,” you attempted to dismiss.

“That’s news to me,” he chuckled. “I swear, you told me about how you were super into tennis. Was that just a phase, or…?”

He eyed you mischievously, clearly challenging you to a match of whatever mind game it was that he wanted to play with you. Unluckily for him, you were in the mood to play–and win.

“Something like that. I guess I just figured out that tennis really wasn’t for me. But you know, college is a time to try out new things. See what you like, what you don’t like. And man, I really didn’t like tennis.”

Obviously, you weren’t talking just about tennis. You hoped that Patrick was able to catch onto the not-so-subtle subtext.

“I don’t know, I thought you liked tennis a lot. Thought it was good for you,” Patrick commented casually, going back to his food before looking back at you.

“It was surprisingly pretty toxic,” you replied easily.

“Are you sure you didn’t share a part in that toxicity? With a sport like tennis, you really get out what you put in.”

“Sure, but I didn’t put in nearly as much toxicity as I was getting from it.”

“Of course you’d think that,” Patrick murmured.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“It means that you think you’re so guiltless, but you played a bigger role in… tennis not working out than you’re acting like you did.”

“Please, enlighten me on how I could’ve made tennis work out better for me.”

“I just think maybe you’re being a little too hard on tennis in comparison to what really happened.”

“Just because you have a nice racket and a little more experience than me doesn’t mean you’re an expert on how bad things were for me. Seriously, Patrick. You actually don’t have a clue about what I was going through.”

“Are you guys still talking about tennis?” someone asked with a forced laugh, breaking the thick tension at the table. There was a stiff, awkward chuckle from your fellow dinner companions. It was almost as if you’d forgotten that you were at his family’s dinner, bitterly arguing with Patrick in loosely coded language. You should have the shame to feel embarrassed, but you mostly felt agitated with Patrick.

“Obviously,” Patrick replied. “What else would we be talking about?”

“Oh yeah. Obviously,” they said stiffly. “So like, are you sure you two don’t know each other that well?”

“We really don’t,” you quickly replied.

“Why would we lie about that?” Patrick said, your voices overlapping.

As if arguing about something that was very obviously a metaphor for your relationship wasn’t suspicious enough, this reaction certainly didn’t help your case. It was ridiculous to attempt to keep up this façade when it was becoming more and more clear to anyone at the table with eyes to see and ears to hear that you two were more than casual, mutual friends.

“Actually, we did lie. We were friends for a little while,” you confessed.

“Friends?” Patrick parroted with a scoff. He looked at you with disbelief before shaking his head. “Excuse me,” he announced before standing up and walking off from the table.

The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, which you took as your cue to follow Patrick to wherever he was sulking off to. “Sorry. Excuse me.”

The two of you said nothing as you followed Patrick out to his back patio. The fresh, cold air felt nice after a suffocating, stressful evening. As Patrick sat down on a piece of comfortable furniture, you wordlessly sat across from him.

“Just go. Back inside, back home, I don’t give a shit. I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Clearly you do,” you replied, watching him dig in his pocket for a cigarette to no avail. He finally found a loose cigarette and brought it to his lips, ignoring you as he lit it up.

“Don’t blow it in my face,” you warned him, though you wouldn’t mind taking a drag or two from it.

“I won’t,” he replied, words muffled around the cigarette at his lips.

The two of you sat in silence before he spoke once more. “Do you seriously feel like we were just friends?”

“Jesus,” you laughed at the question, unbelieving that Patrick would think all of your desperate acts to try to get him to commit to you could be interpreted as anything but romantic. “Of course we weren’t just friends. But you try describing what we had to someone who wasn’t a witness to the train wreck that was our relationship.”

“We were…” he trailed off as he thought about how to describe your relationship. “Friends with benefits?”

“Sure,” you replied, though you obviously disagreed with him. “You know, this is exactly why things didn’t work out. I wanted to be with you so badly and you refused to acknowledge that we had a connection any deeper than physical until it was convenient for you.”

“Did you expect me to spell out how I felt about you when I was showing you how I felt?” he asked as if it were the most obvious question in the world.

“Actually, yes. Clearly we were not on the same page about how we felt if you thought that you were being so obvious while I was over-analyzing every single word you’d ever said to me to try to figure out how you felt about me.”

“Are you serious? You were the one who was impossible to understand. One day you wanted me to take you out on a date and hold you in your little twin sized bed afterward, and the next you didn’t want to speak to me. How was I supposed to interpret that?”

“Patrick, you were doing the same thing to me! I was just so mad at you. Like, constantly. Even though I had feelings for you. My friends were always telling me I’m an idiot for letting you treat me that way, so obviously I tried to start pushing you away. But even with everything, I still really liked you, so I couldn’t fully stay away from you,” you explained, hoping that your disjointed words would make sense to him.

It truly was a very complicated situation. Part of you wondered if you had communicated this earlier, if things might have ended differently for you.

Patrick seemed to be thinking deeply about your words before he spoke again. “Do you ever still think about me?”

You had two options for approaching his question. You could lie, like you hadn’t made it abundantly clear earlier that you still, at the very least, pay attention to his tennis career, or you could tell the truth and risk having your feelings hurt again.

“Sometimes,” you confessed, going with the latter. “I’m mostly still really annoyed with the way you treated me, and the fact that I let you treat me that way. But sometimes I miss you, anyway.”

“Then let’s do things differently this time,” he proposed as if it was the best and brightest idea he’d ever had. “I miss you, too. It shouldn’t have taken us breaking up for me to realize how much I need you in my life, but it did.”

“What are you saying, Patrick?” you asked, trying to make sure that you fully understood his proposition. Was he trying to get you back?

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he spelled out for you. “I want to treat you better than I ever did before. I’ve thought about everything that went down between us, and I think that we can make it work this time if we just try to be honest with each other. What do you think?”

You were shocked at the offer. If someone had told you going into this dinner that you would end it with your former situationship asking you to be with him, you would’ve laughed in their face. Yet, his proposition, and the fact that you wanted to say yes, didn’t exactly feel like a laughing matter.

You paused as you stopped to consider your options. Your gut instinct was to say yes—you’d wanted him for so long, and he clearly wasn’t over you. You obviously had some things you needed to work through before you really made this relationship work, but the feelings were there. The more logical part of your brain was telling you to say no—Patrick had hurt you so many times before, that there was no telling if he would hurt you again.

“Sure. Let’s try it,” you said, ignoring all of the logic in your head and fully following where the passion in your heart wanted to take you.

You couldn’t be sure if this would end in another heartbreak for you, but you weren’t so sure that you cared either.

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig fic #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #challengers #challengers fic #josh o'connor x reader

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btsgotjams27 · 2 days

Text

perfect palette | jjk

vegas isn’t your first choice, but you love your best friend and are willing to do anything for her, including planning her bachelorette party. everything is all set, ready to go for the last day, until you receive a text from the model you’ve hired. he’s out sick but have no fear, he’s sent the next best thing to replace him for the night.

✨ title: perfect palette

✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader (nicknamed Ro)

✨ genre/au: slice of life, light angst | model!jk, las vegas!au

✨ rating: m/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.5k

✨ warnings: language, drinking, mild nudity, jungkook + reader are tipsy, kissing, reader is nicknamed Ro but is only called by her name a handful of times.

✨ a/n: hi again! so this idea came to me when i was in vegas lmao, and the painting idea is from 'this is us' (the show). i just thought it was a fun premise. i hope you enjoy it.

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Your head is pounding, and your stomach is growling. As you pop your head up, you notice the hotel room is a complete mess: furniture has been knocked over, empty tequila and champagne bottles litter the room, and clothes and money are scattered across the floor.

A low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover up with the duvet. You definitely don’t remember sleeping with someone. Your mind races, attempting to recall last night’s shenanigans.

Whoever is next to you mumbles under their breath and turns over on their stomach. The silver chain that’s adorning their neck glimmers from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. You can’t help but notice their broad chiseled back and the markings on it. No, they’re not scratches from nails—they’re purple lines, going from one beauty mark to the next, and each mark is surrounded by a pair of red lips. Turning your hand over, you see it’s stained with purple, matching the color on their back.

What the fuck happened last night, you think.

You lean over, peering at the mysterious person. A scalloped tattoo delicately covers their shoulder and the rest of their arm is covered in ink. You giggle when you discover the tattoos are colored an array of hues—blue, red, green, and orange. It looks almost like a child was told to have fun and went wild with coloring.

The person groans again, switching to lay on their back side. You pull back, holding the duvet up to your chin. A small gasp comes out when you recognize the mystery person—it’s Jeon Jungkook, your old college buddy. Five years have passed since you last saw him at graduation. Last you heard, he was in Los Angeles, taking a jab at modeling and acting. Well, with his perfect face and body (your eyes quickly scanned over him), who would say no to him?

The real question now was, how did he end up in Vegas, and specifically in your hotel room?

—

The day before.

“Ro, cheer up please. We’re in Vegas, not a funeral,” Lottie says, swiping on a pink lip stain. “You’re only gonna feel like shit if you keep scrolling through those photos.”

Lottie’s right because looking through your ex-college sweetheart’s wedding photos is not doing anything for you. Four years of committing to a man who said he never wanted to get married, but there he was with a ring on his finger.

Your phone is swiped from your hand. “Hey!” you protest, standing to snatch it back. “Give it to me!”

“No! I will not let my maid-of-honor mope around like a sad puppy. Forget Jimin! He’s a married man now and a Libra—an October Libra too, I might add. That should’ve been a red flag right off the bat!”

She’s been your work wife for the past three years, and the two of you bonded over talking shit about your boss and colleagues. The only anecdotes she knew of Jimin were the ones you spilled on drunken nights.

“Lottie, give me my phone. I have to make sure everything is ready for tonight. It has to be perfect,” you explain, holding out your hand, insisting she gives it to you. But it was an excuse to keep lurking.

The itinerary for today consisted of: brunch, pool and cocktails, dinner at Hell’s Kitchen, then a night of painting–naked painting you should add. As if the Magic Mike show wasn't enough skin for Lottie and the rest of the crew. You somehow stumbled upon a small business, ‘Perfect Palette’ combining models and painting into one. This would be the next closest thing to being with a fully naked man. It's been a hot minute since you've seen one.

The bride-to-be reluctantly hands over the phone and you're scrolling through emails, switching apps to confirm everything.

“Take a chill pill, babe. Everything doesn't have to be perfect, but I am excited about painting tonight!” Lottie smiles and claps, then leans over to give you a hug. “Okay! Time to get ready for brunch.” She runs off to the restroom. “And no more pining over Jimin, please!” She yells back.

It's hard not to look through the photos of your ex-boyfriend because it was supposed to be you, not the woman he's kissing and holding. If only you could go back to graduation and fix things between you and Jimin…maybe life would've turned out differently for you.

As you open up Instagram (your burner account, obviously), you see a new post of him and his wife on a plane with the caption, “Can't wait to honeymoon in Bali.”

Bali was your dream honeymoon location.

With a heavy sigh, flinging yourself onto the bed, you turn off your phone. Lottie’s always right—this is depressing.

A ding goes off and you're hoping it's just one of the girls confirming the schedule for today. Grabbing your phone, you hold it above you, the screen illuminating your face.

The notification reads:

Namjoon 8:30 AM

Hey. I came down with the stomach bug so I can't make it tonight, but don't worry, I'm sending the next best thing to replace me. I promise the bride and your girls will love him. He's a newbie but he's just as beefy if not more than me. Have fun tonight.

You turn the phone over and rub your hand over your face. Great, just my luck, you think.

Well, whoever this person is, you hope he’s worth what you’re paying for.

–

The Primrose restaurant is the perfect spot to finish off a weekend in Vegas. It’s bustling with groups similar to yours—probably other brides and bridesmaids celebrating a last hoorah before committing yourself to one person for the rest of your life. At this point it seems silly, doesn’t it? Being with someone, choosing them on a daily basis, loving them for all their faults, but who are you kidding? You’re a hopeless romantic now waiting for your charming prince.

Gwen and Ivy sit across from you and Lottie, whispering and pointing to their phone like two high school girls. You don’t doubt they’re plotting something. You just hope it doesn’t involve more naked men, minus the one you’ll see tonight. There are only so many ripped abs you can take.

“What are you two whispering about?” Lottie asks while narrowing her eyes. She holds her glass of mango mimosa, taking a sip.

“Nothing!” They both speak in tandem and Lottie makes a face at the two.

“No surprises,” you plead with your friends. “The rest of the day is already planned.”

“Don’t worry, babe! We’re not planning anything else,” Gwen reassures.

“It’s just that—” Ivy is cut off when Gwen jabs her in the ribs. “Ow!”

Gwen puts her phone down, hiding it under her thigh. “It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“But it does—kind of—” Ivy interjects. “Jimin and his wife—they’re pregnant.” She grabs Gwen’s phone, showing a photo of Jimin kissing his wife’s belly.

“Oh,” you say softly. “That’s great. I’m really happy for him.”

You hate to admit it, but it stings. He’s living the life you dreamed of with him. The big house, big cars, but someone else got the big ring. And now they’re starting a family? Everyone seems to be moving forward, but it feels like you’re at standstill. It’d be amazing to have a man plop in your lap, but life just doesn’t seem to be going your way.

Clearing your throat, “Should we get ready for the pool?”

—

It doesn’t matter how many times you tug down your swimsuit, it keeps riding up in all the wrong places. The white linen shorts and tie top aren’t doing you any favors either by being paper thin.

The pool is bustling with hoards of party-goers. They’re laughing, drinking, and having the time of their life. An ex-boyfriend’s current life shouldn’t be affecting yours—but it is. You wish you could let go, let loose, forget everything related to Park Jimin. You’d rather be consumed by anything, anyone other than him.

Lottie’s at the bar, ordering a round of drinks. Gwen and Ivy are grabbing the attention of four guys. And it’s the last night before returning to reality, so you should be having fun, flirting, and making a fool of yourself to someone whom you’ll never see again. That’s what Vegas is for, right?

As a maid of honor, you’re definitely not living up to the hype and you know Lottie’s disappointed expression like the back of your hand, and yet you can’t unbunch your panties that are in a twist. The effects of the morning mimosas have worn off, and maybe you need something stronger. Hell—even a gummy sounds tempting at this point. Anything to forget how miserable your love life is.

“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Lottie asks. You shake your head no, but she knows you. She sits down, taking your hands. “Look, I’m sorry about Jimin. It sucks that he got married even though he said he never wanted to—” You’re ready to interrupt but she stops you, placing her index finger on your lips.

“Bup-bup-bup. I know what you’re going to say, but don’t,” Lottie implores, pleading with her eyes. She knows how much you torment yourself with lowly thoughts.

You want to say that there’s definitely something wrong with you. Why else would Jimin say one thing to you about marriage and then do the complete opposite?

“You’re more than enough, so please don’t think otherwise. Don’t let this one guy determine the course of your future relationships. He’s not worth your time and energy.”

Tears began to well behind your eyes as she continued, “You deserve to have some fun. So please, can we enjoy this last night together before we have to go back to our real lives?” Lottie pouts along with puppy eyes.

Lottie’s always right and that’s what you love about her. You hate that you’ve been a poor sport this weekend when you’re supposed to be celebrating your friend and having fun. You’ve been busy moping over a man who is now married with a child on the way. It’s a pathetic way to spend your last night in Vegas.

You let out a deep breath, expelling all the bad energy you’ve harnessed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve been the worst maid of honor, but have no fear!” A server brings over the drinks that Lottie ordered, you pick up your Paloma cocktail and an oversized margarita, handing it to the bride-to-be. “Let’s have the best night. Cheers!” you say, clinking your glass against hers.

—

Tequila is one of your worst enemies, but also the best way for you to loosen up your limbs and lips.

By the time the four of you arrive at the hotel room, you’re unsure if you can even pick up a paintbrush, let alone even get paint on a canvas.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sorry that you love me! Change my mind up like it’s origami!”

The trio of you, Ivy, and Gwen are linked arm in arm trying to fit through the door while singing at the top of your lungs.

“Ugh—I swear Tate McRae is my spirit animal,” you say, turning to Gwen. “You know, she just gets it. Always gets me in my sad girl hours and then has me dancing the next.”

“I’m a-I’m a-I’m a wild ride that never stops!” Ivy continues singing, letting go of the two of you while Lottie trails behind. Someone has to be the semi-sober one.

“Hey Ro—they’re bringing everything right?” Lottie asks you.

“Yeah, the guy will bring the supplies. There’s an area cleared out for him. I’m gonna freshen up then I’ll be out.”

“I’m ready for a man to bare it all and ask nothing of me in return,” Gwen comments, taking a seat on the couch.

You chuckle, shaking your head at your friend. Hopefully, it’ll be the last naked man you’ll see this weekend. But either way, you’re sure you’ll enjoy this last activity.

The powder puff pats against your skin, making dust fly everywhere. Taking a step back, you give yourself the once-over in the mirror, but not before swiping a red stain on your lips. You don’t want to look disheveled for this naked guest. Apparently, he’s the ‘next best thing’ next to Namjoon, and you saw Namjoon’s photo on the website. You’re curious to see this mystery man and how this evening will end up.

As the door is ajar, you can hear the girls talking amongst themselves along with giggles. Whoever this guy is, he must be living up to their standards.

You’re unsure what to expect, how everything will turn out. Is this model fully naked? Are they covered? Do you keep your art piece? How are you supposed to bring a canvas of a naked man on a plane without receiving a few stares? You definitely didn’t think this part through.

“Ro! Get your butt out here. We’re gonna start painting soon!” Gwen yells, making you sprint out the door and into a curious situation.

Four canvases on easels and paint palettes on stools surround the model. His back is turned to you and he’s already half-naked with only a towel wrapped around his waist. One arm is completely inked from the top of his shoulder to his wrist. When he turns around and your jaw drops, not because he’s built like a Greek god (well, yeah he is), but because you recognize the half-naked man.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

“Ro?” His eyes light up and he secures his towel, tucking it in his waist. “What are you doing here?”

You step toward him and the girls. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Err—”

Lottie clears her throat, blinking at you and then Jungkook. “Um, excuse me. How do you two know each other?”

The pair of you give each other a look and chuckle before you answer. “Oh, we went to college together.”

“Just went to college together? Nothing more?” Ivy narrows her eyes at you, trying to figure out if you’re lying.

“What? No! We’re just friends. I was with Jimin, remember?” A pathetic reminder of your past relationship and now non-existent one.

“Uh huh,” Lottie remarks, taking a stride to you, pulling you in. “I wanna hear all the details about that one later.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” you whisper. “We’re friends—nothing more.” Catching Jungkook’s gaze, you smile softly before taking your seat on the stool.

“Are you ladies ready?” Jungkook asks, ripping off his towel, only to reveal another small hand towel covering his crotch.

The girls are yelping and hollering. You can’t help but cover your eyes, giggling at the fact that you’ll be painting one of your friends—naked.

—

Jungkook’s surrounded by the four of you. His pose is simple, straight forward. Literally straight forward because he’s facing you, knees slightly bent as he’s sitting on the stool. Your eyes have caught his every now and again, but he's focused on something past you.

Every inch of him is chiseled like a statue right out of Ancient Greece. From his jawline, to his collarbone, to his sculpted chest and not one, two, three, four, but eight pack abs. How is it that some people are just born to look like a Greek god? You didn’t think God had favorites, but Jeon Jungkook definitely proves you wrong.

Studying Jungkook’s physique for the past hour has made you realize how intimate this feels. Although the pair of you were friends in school, this is the most time you’ve spent with him outside of it, and the most time you’ve spent just looking at him. He is definitely a pretty boy with a soft, sweet energy.

Your brows are knitted, biting your bottom lip, trying to figure out how to paint his inked arm. It’s looking more and more like a glob than anything distinguishable. It’s when your eyes catch his and he’s doing that smile, the one where one side curves up, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

Jungkook’s eyes flick to the large clock in the living area. “Okay, ladies. It looks like time is up. How did everyone’s painting turn out?” There are groans and grumbles coming from the four of you. Jungkook chuckles, “Aw, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

He turns, fetching a robe behind him, slipping it on to cover himself. Jungkook takes it upon himself to check out everyone’s canvases, and you’re dreading the moment when he approaches yours.

You clutch it, holding it close to your body, and you have no intention of Jungkook ever seeing it.

He tilts his head, giving you a look. “Ro—it can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me, it is!” You turn, hoping to somehow destroy it before leaving tomorrow morning. It’s not that Jungkook looks horrible—it’s that you’re a horrible painter. But your death grip isn’t as strong as he is. With a sigh, you hand it over to him.

Jungkook nods with a pout on his lips. “It’s…”

“Horrible—I know.”

“No, no. I’d say it has an abstract feeling to it. I like it.” He gives a bright smile, returning the canvas to you.

You give him a thin smile, knowing that he’s just saying it because it’s his job. “By the way, you’re really good at this gig, but are you still pursuing the whole modeling thing?”

“I’m still doing that. I just do this gig for fun on the weekends. I mean, I get to meet cool, and sometimes crazy people and the money isn’t bad either.”

“Alright, ladies and gentleman. Tequila, anyone?” Gwen suggests as she wiggles her eyebrows, holding up the bottle. No one answers which makes her frown. “Aw, come on!”

“I’m game. What about you Ro?” Jungkook’s eyebrows are raised, eyes practically pleading for you to say yes. “One for me?”

You know it’s never ‘just one’ with Jungkook. You’ve seen first hand what that one line does to people, but you take the risk. “Okay, Jeon—just one.”

Everyone else gives in, raising and clinking their glasses to toast the bachelorette. Expelled breaths come from everyone after knocking back the clear liquor.

“Round two?” Jungkook asks, extending his glass toward Gwen in which she happily obliges.

You smirk, shaking your head as you catch Jungkook’s gaze.

—

It didn’t take long until you were feeling euphoric from the alcohol coursing through your veins. You’re always on cloud nine when you drink Tequila.

Lottie called it quits after her fifth shot. Gwen and Ivy are also well on their way to sleeping like babies. But you and Jungkook? You both have caught a second wind of energy.

“Ugh, I’m so hungry!” you exclaim, rubbing your belly as it growls. Jungkook’s trying to hold in a laugh. With a gasp, you turn to him, slapping his back, which is firm to the touch. “Shut up! Drinking makes me hungry.”

“Okay then, let’s get some room service. What are you craving?”

You tap your cheek with your index finger, combing through the many options. “Pizza. No—wait, chicken wings.” Jungkook closes his eyes and hums. “No, nope! I want a juicy, juicy hamburger…with…with…” Your brain is obviously short-circuiting.

“Fries?” Jungkook answers.

“Yes! Fries! And a milkshake!”

“We can do that. I’ll call it in.”

An hour has passed and you and Jungkook are sprawled out on the bed, bellies full and minds are swirling.

“Oh man, I haven’t done anything like this in such a long time,” you admit, turning over onto your belly. You lay your head in the crook of your arm, facing Jungkook.

“What? Eating?” he teases.

You giggle. “No—getting tipsy and I don’t know, just being free.”

“This is you being free?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I gotta get some more tequila in you then.” He proceeds to get up, but you pull him back.

“No, no, no. Trust me, this is good. I don’t wanna black-out.”

“Okay, how about some champagne then? Just to celebrate your last night here,” Jungkook suggests.

You know you’ll regret it, but you agree. “Just one bottle.” Besides you already paid for it, you wouldn’t want it to go to waste.

He sprints out of the bedroom to the bar area to grab a bottle and two glasses. You can’t help but notice how his biceps flex as he pours the two of you a glass.

“To—”

“Lottie,” you finish his sentence.

“To Lottie.” He clinks his glass with yours before chugging down his bubbly.

You stare blankly at the Greek god himself. “You’re trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?”

His lips thin into a smile. “I’m not doing anything…”

“Mmhm.” You take a gulp of your glass. You’re sure that if Jungkook were to ask you to do something, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. He made being around him comfortable and you always felt at ease.

“So, what should we do now?”

Your lips turn into a pout, peering around the room before a lightbulb goes off. “Ah! I have just the thing.” You rush over to your luggage, rummaging through it. Turning around, you wave a box of double tipped markers.

Jungkook knits his brows together. “And what do you think you’re going to do with those?”

You giggle. “You’ll see!”

—

Your tongue is out, concentrating on the purple line connecting from one beauty mark to the next. You’ve forced Jungkook to lie on his belly as you’re hunched over, straddling his legs.

“Don’t move!”

He relaxes, letting you continue on. Capping the purple marker, you set it aside. You’re giggling, tracing the line across his back and you can feel him squirm under your touch.

“You finished or what?” He peers over his shoulder but you turn him away.

"Just need to add the finishing touches." Leaning forward, you press your lips to the first beauty mark on his mid back, leaving a lipstick stain. Then you move to the next one beneath his shoulder blade, and continue on. His skin is smooth and warm under your lips, and though it's faint, you think you hear a low groan from him.

You sit up, adjusting your position, staring at the artwork you’ve created on Jungkook’s back. “Done—with your back at least. Now onto your arms.”

—

Jungkook turns his head to see what you’re coloring, flexing his bicep, making you color outside the lines.

“Oh my god! You made me mess up!” You try wiping the color, but it doesn’t budge. “You did it on purpose.”

“I did not! Why do you need to color inside the lines anyway?” he asks before returning to his previous position, resting his head on his arm.

“Because…that’s the way you’re supposed to color.” Taking an orange marker, you continue shading in his cloud tattoo.

“You don’t always have to follow the rules,” he breathed, gazing up at you.

“I know…” you mumble. Your eyes flick to his then back to the tattoo. You hate when things are not in your control. There were a handful of moments in your life when shit hit the fan and chaos ensued—Jimin being one of them.

You clear your throat, grabbing a yellow marker to color in a gradient effect. “And are you the type to not follow the rules?”

Jungkook chuckles, “I guess we don’t know each other well huh?”

“Well, I was practically glued to Jimin when we were in school.”

“What happened with you guys anyway? I thought you guys were like soulmates or something.”

“We just wanted different things,” you mumble, not wanting to elaborate. “What about you, hmm? Being a model in LA and Vegas? I’m sure you have women wanting to crawl into bed all the time.”

His gaze catches yours. “Exhibit A.”

You scoff. “Hey! We’re friends—that’s the only reason why you’re in my bed.”

“Uh huh. I saw the way you were eyeing me during the painting session. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it,” Jungkook teases, making you stop coloring, and pinch his underarm. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay, just kidding!” He moves away, but you pull him back.

“Hey! I’m almost done coloring,” you say, gripping tighter onto his arm.

“That’s not fair. Only you get to color me?”

You sigh, tilting your head. “I’ll let you draw one thing on me.”

“Can I pick the location of where to draw it?”

“As long as it’s not my tits or ass.”

Jungkook lets out a hearty laugh. “Alright, how about your—”

Your hand flies to cover his mouth, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. “Jeon Jungkook! That’s a hard no!”

“You practically saw my junk and I can’t see yours?”

“Well, I paid for it.”

“I can pay you too.”

You gasp. “You can’t just buy me.”

“Fine. Give me a few options and I’ll choose the placement.”

It would be easy to choose a place more visible, but you’re feeling frisky. “My hip or my back.”

Jungkook lips his licks, eyes flicking to your hips then back up at you. “And I can draw anything I want?”

You hum with a nervous tremble. You’re sure he wouldn’t draw anything ridiculous. “I trust you.”

“‘Kay then, turn over on your belly. Top off.”

Sitting up, facing Jungkook, your hands fall to the first button on your linen vest. Your eyes never leave his as you continue to unfasten the rest, then you toss it aside, revealing a blush pink see-through bra with floral detailing. Jungkook is trying his best to not let his eyes wander lower and you’re trying to do the same. Yes, you’ve stared at his half-naked body for an hour tonight, but you didn’t have the chance to explore it up close.

“Is this okay?” You know it is, but you’d like confirmation.

“Mmm.” He gestures for you to lie down, and you do as he asks.

Jungkook reaches for a black marker, the tip is thinner than the others. He shifts his position a few times before lying comfortably next to you. The warmth from his body radiates, heating up against your skin. You lie on top of your crossed arms, facing him, wondering what he’s planning to draw. Maybe some flowers or stars.

His brows are knitted as he’s concentrated on where to begin. He starts on the middle of your back, drawing circular shapes from what you can tell. The tip of the marker grazes back and forth, and his hand and fingers emanate a gentle touch upon your skin.

He’s quite handsome, you think. Even the scar etched on his cheek has a certain beauty, and his nose must be a butterflies favorite place to land on.

“Is it okay if I unhook this?”

“Hmm?”

“Your um,” he clears his throat. “Your bra.”

You’ve been too focused on Jungkook’s face, you hadn’t realized he was halfway down your back. “Yeah, um, go for it.”

He unhooks your bra in one fell swoop and the sides of your bra fall to the side. Continuing with his design, he concentrates on the smallest details going down your spine. Your eyes flutter shut as his warm breath softly fans the wet ink on your skin.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Jungkook asks, trying to make conversation, realizing he doesn’t know you well, besides when you were with Jimin.

“Single as can be. What about you? A girlfriend? Friends with benefits? Situationship?”

Jungkook laughs. “What kind of life do you think I lead here, hm? That’s a lot of assumptions about me.”

“I don’t know. I just assume that someone that looks like you would have someone is all.”

“Well, I’m also single, and I’m a more monogamous kinda guy.”

“You are?” you question with a dramatic gasp. “That comes as a nice surprise. Maybe we should go get married tonight in a chapel,” you joke.

“With a few more drinks in me, I’m sure I’d say yes to anything.”

“Stop—don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious. I’m ready to meet someone and do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but a lot of the people I meet just want sex.”

“I’m sorry, did I just meet a guy who doesn’t want sex?”

Jungkook deadpans. “I didn’t say I don’t want sex. I do—I just wanna be a romantic and spoil someone.”

“Oh, well, you can always wine and dine me. I won’t object,” you tease.

As Jungkook continues drawing, the pads of his fingers create a light buzz of electricity, from one end to the other. Your eyes flutter shut, relishing from his soft touch. You almost let out a low moan but catch yourself when he gets to a ticklish spot near your ribs.

“Jungkook?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think the right person will come along for you?”

A beat passes before he answers. “Yeah, I think so. Whoever they are, I just know that I'm probably not ready to meet them yet, but the right time will come.”

“But what if the right person came at the wrong time?”

“Or…you were the right person in the wrong place,” he suggests. “Are you talking about Jimin?”

“Yeah, I've been trying to avoid talking about him. He recently got married and his wife is pregnant too.”

“Ah, don't tell me you're feeling shitty? ‘Cause you shouldn't.”

A sad chuckle leaves your lips. “I'm pretty sure I fumbled it.”

Jungkook stops drawing on your back, softly calling your name, in which you hesitate to look at him for fear of bursting into tears.

“Hey…you didn't fumble anything. Pretty sure it's Jimin’s loss.”

“You're sweet, Kook. Thanks.”

Jungkook continues on his quest to finish his drawing.

“Is it almost finished?” you ask, clearing your throat. The tequila and champagne are starting to wear off and tomorrow’s reality is beginning to settle in. Tonight feels like a dream and you don’t want to wake up.

He hums. “Almost. Just a few more details then we’ll be good to go.” Short strokes lightly mark across your back and he doesn’t break his concentration. He continues for a few minutes before closing the cap. “Done. Wanna see?”

“I’m not gonna lie. I’m low-key scared to see what it is.”

Jungkook straightens his posture then reaches for his phone. “You have nothing to be scared of. It’s pretty. I promise.” He takes a photo, showing it to you.

Though the drawing session didn’t feel long, you could see the intricate detailing he went into drawing the moon phases down your back.

Sitting up then turning away from Jungkook, you use your arm to cover your breasts and secure your bra. “Are you always good at everything?” you ask, standing and walking over to the dresser, you pull out an oversized shirt, slipping it on, then you grab the tequila bottle and two shot glasses. There’s just enough to end the night.

Jungkook shifts to the edge of the bed, legs spread, and you slot yourself right in between. “Nah, I’m not good at everything.”

“Oh yeah? What are you not good at?” you ask, making him hold a glass while you pour his then yours.

He chuckles, looking away, then back up at you. “For starters, I’m not good at flirting.”

“You’re lying.” Your eyes lock in on his as you set the empty bottle down on the floor.

“I’m not.”

“Okay, practice on me then,” you say, trying to persuade him.

“A bit of liquid courage might help.”

You raise your glass and clink it against his. “Bottoms up.” The both of you wince as you knock them back, tossing the glasses on the carpeted flooring.

“Better?” you inquire, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, playing with the hair along the nape of his neck. Jungkook’s fingers delicately trace up and down your thighs, sending tingles across every inch of skin. His eyes are so starry, you’ll gladly get lost in them.

“You’re pretty.”

“Could say the same about you,” you giggle, twirling his hair in your fingers. “You’re right.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, reveling at your touch against his skin. “Mm, about what?”

“That you’re bad at flirting.” Your eyes linger on his lips, wondering what they taste like and how much you’d like to kiss the chocolate chip mole right underneath his bottom lip.

He lets out a soft chuckle, looking down at his feet then back at you. “Told you,” he says as he pulls away, propping himself up on the bed. He scans you from head to toe, loving the fact that you’re in between his legs. Hasn't seen you in years, but he’s intrigued.

Letting out a yawn, you cover your mouth then apologize.

“Damn, didn’t think my non-flirting would put you to sleep.”

You laugh. “It’s been a long day and it’ll be an even longer one tomorrow.”

“Right, I should head out too.” Jungkook shifts, scooting to the edge of the bed but you don’t budge.

“Do you wanna stay? Since it’s pretty late already.” Nearly 3 AM and you know you’ll regret this but right now, you’ll indulge in whatever’s left of this trip.

Jungkook’s silent for a moment before answering, “Sure. I’ll stay.”

You crawl over him, slipping under the covers that have been calling your name for the past few hours. The plush, fluffy pillows are like a cloud as you lay your head down. Jungkook follows your lead, doing the same, facing you. His fringe gently falls, covering his eyes, and you find yourself moving them out of his face.

“You’re cute,” you whisper, letting your finger trace his cheeks to his jawline.

“I don’t really like being cute,” he hums.

“Well, that’s just too damn bad, isn’t it?” You inch closer to him, and can feel the warmth radiating off his body. It feels nice to be in close proximity to another human being again. And you like that there are no expectations. You can just be with Jungkook. The two of you run in the same circle of friends, and he makes you feel safe—like if anything were to happen to you tonight, he’d take care of you.

Your eyes flick to his lips, lingering longer than expected, and your cheeks are warming up, ridding the last bit of alcohol coursing through your veins.

Jungkook moves in, closing the distance. The tip of his nose brushes against yours, lips ghosting each other in a delicate dance before finally meeting in a tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as you melt into each other. Hearts beating in perfect harmony, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

With your breaths mingled, it creates a cocoon of intimacy as you savor the softness of each other's lips. Your fingers entwined in his hair, drawing him closer, bodies pressed together in a silent declaration of desire.

The last leg of this trip was fate trying to make you forget about your worries, and Jungkook was the perfect color to paint over your monochrome palette.

There’s a longing deep inside you wanting to escape, and as much as you want to release it, you’d rather have him when you’re sober and in the right mindframe.

“Ro…” Jungkook moans as he pulls away, your hands splayed on his taut chest, forehead resting against his.

“Yeah?” you reply, leaning in for another kiss.

“I don’t want you like this,” he says, taking you by surprise, almost like he could read your mind.

Letting out a chuckle, you answer, “No—yeah, makes sense.”

“It’s not that ‘I don’t want you’, I do! I just—don’t want this to turn out like other flings I’ve had in the past because I don’t consider you ‘a fling’ or someone to just toss the next day because we’re friends and I would never do that to—“

You interrupt him with a peck on his lips. “Jungkook. I understand. I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun tonight and that’s all thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“No, you did! You helped me loosen up.”

“I’m sure it was just the champagne and tequila doing all the work.”

“They helped, but it was mostly you.” You smile, letting a beat pass before speaking again. “Should we try to get some sleep?”

He hums, leaning in for a kiss, in which you willingly give. You tug on his silver chain, asking for a few more kisses before letting him go.

Not even three minutes in and Jungkook is already snoring. His chest rising and falling, rumbling like a mountain. It’s cute, you think. Could get used to listening to this, almost like white noise.

You admire how Jungkook lives his life without worries, letting the wind guide him. It might not happen right away, but maybe when you return to reality, you should consider not always staying within the lines. That it’s okay to go out of bounds and live a little. Life shouldn’t be so serious all the time.

—

There’s a light sound of pitter patter sweeping across the floor with shushed ‘Ows’ and ‘shut up’. You weakly open your eyes to see what the commotion is. Your body wants to get up, but the pounding migraine is saying otherwise.

A loud thump makes you blink your eyes open and pop your head up. There’s furniture knocked over, tequila and champagne bottles are scattered everywhere, along with clothes and money.

The low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover yourself with the duvet. They’re facing away and you can’t make out who this mystery person is. You peer over to find a man covered in tattoos, and it looks like a child tried to color inside the tattoo lines but failed miserably.

He mumbles gibberish under his breath and turns over onto his stomach. Great, now you can’t even get a good look at him, you think.

His silver necklace glimmers from the sun peeking through the blinds. And holy shit—his shoulders?

Broad.

Chiseled.

For all you know, he could be some kind of athlete. Then you notice the purple lines on his back, and no—they aren’t scratches from nails, the lines connect from one beauty mark to the next across his back. It’s like one of those connect the dot pictures, except the finished drawing wasn’t anything recognizable. But surrounding each beauty mark is a pair of red lips, and as you look down at your hands, you find that you’re the culprit who must’ve drawn on this man.

What the fuck happened last night, you think.

Another groan escapes the man’s lips and he turns over again. You pull up your side of the duvet, further covering yourself, and the smallest gasp comes out. It’s none other than Jeon Jungkook, an old college buddy.

The duvet is pulled down, covering his bottom half, revealing his taut chest and not one, two, three, four—but an eight pack set of abs. Is it humanly possible to even have more than six?

How did he end up in Vegas? And specifically in your room?

“Jungkook?” you whisper. “Are you awake?”

“Mmm…”

You move closer, feeling the warmth from his body. “Jungkook, it’s time to get up.”

Still half asleep, he wraps his arm around your waist, bringing you flush against him. “Just five more minutes, Ro,” he says, nuzzling into you.

“Jeon Jungkook! What are you doing?”

He chuckles, smiling, finally peeking his eyes open. “You don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”

“I…remember things…” you say, lying through your teeth.

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook moves into a sitting position, turning to you. “So you know we got married, right?”

Your jaw drops and eyes widen. “Oh my god, please tell me you’re lying.”

“You’re the one who suggested it!”

How could you let yourself get married in Las Vegas? And at your best friend’s bachelorette party? It’s not like you’re trying to steal her thunder, quite the opposite, really. This was supposed to be about her, not you. Fuck—Lottie’s going to hate you, isn’t she?

Jungkook quietly watches you freak out. Wonders how long he can let this continue before telling the truth. He thinks you’re cute when you’re all flustered.

“No, we can't be married! I don't even know you and how would this even work? We live like 3000 miles away from each other? And would you move to New York? Or would I move to LA? What if your family doesn't like me? Your friends even? Wait–do you even like me? Oh–Jungkook, how did we let this happen?” you ask, burying your hands in your face.

Question after question runs through your mind and Jungkook is sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“Why aren't you freaking out?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook chuckles, leaning over toward you. “You're really cute, you know that?” he says.

Your eyes follow his finger as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Clearing your throat, it's time to get down to the important things. “Kook–please! This isn't the time to tell me I'm cute. We have bigger things to worry about. We're married!”

He sucks in his lips, trying to hold in a laugh.

You knit your brows and narrow your eyes. “Unless…we’re not married…”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh, his finger gently caresses your cheek. “Maybe one day, pretty girl. If we ever get to that stage of course.”

A smack against his arm reverberates throughout the room. “Aye! I'm gonna kill you. You really had me worried.”

He rubs the ruby red spot that's imprinted on his arm. “Why? Because marrying me would've been horrible?”

No, you think, quite the opposite.

“Of course not. It's just, we don't know each other and I wouldn't want you to feel trapped in a marriage,” you explain.

You'd at least wanna go on a real date and get to know him before strapping him down forever.

He nods in agreement. “Well, I had fun last night. Hence all the things I let you do to me.” Jungkook points out the badly colored arm and connect-the-dots on his back.

“Oh, I'm so sorry about that.”

“I'm not. I'm glad you had fun even though you don't remember it.”

“Please tell me I didn't act like an idiot.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, you're fine, but uh, I should get going since you have a flight to catch.”

“Oh, shit. My flight.” You reach over to find your phone. It's already 9 AM, and thankfully the airport isn't far away and TSA Pre-check has been a lifesaver.

With another glance, you see your clothes and Jungkook's scattered on the ground. He reaches to grab his shirt and sweats.

“I, um, I was pretty bold last night. Wasn't I?” you were referring to the pair of lips covering his back.

Jungkook snickers. “Yeah, just a bit, but I didn't mind it at all,” he says, slipping his shirt on. He stands, putting his sweats on and you can't help but stare at his peachy ass in his black Calvin Klein–the tight kind. “Do you remember anything else from last night?”

Your mind thinks back to the whirlwind of last night. There was definitely alcohol involved because you only act with confidence under the influence of Tequila.

But a recollection of soft lips and entangled hair between your fingers flutter back into the present just for a fleeting moment.

You shake your head, wanting to keep this memory to yourself.

Jungkook's lips thin into a smile as he ruffles his bed head hair. “Call me next time you're in town?”

You stand to meet him. “Or you can call me when you're in the Big Apple,” you reply, handing him your phone.

He dials your number, so you can have his. “Mm, looks like that confidence hasn't left yet.”

“Mm, I have a smidge of it left.”

“Yeah?” He draws closer, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah,” you whisper, taking in his warmth and scent.

Last night was hazy but bits and pieces are coming back. You're not sure if a lot of these moments with Jungkook are real or just a dream. You'd like to hope he enjoyed spending time with you as much as you did with him.

“It was really good to see you, Kook.”

“Good to see you too, Ro. Don't be a stranger, okay?” He turns on his heel to open the bedroom door, but turns around to say one last thing. “Oh, and don't worry too much about the right person. Who knows, maybe you’ve met them already.”

You wonder if he's referring to himself. You have to admit, he's been making you smile and laugh more than usual, even making you blush.

“Mm, I'll keep that in mind.”

He flashes a smile, opening the door.

“Jungkook?”

He hums, turning to you again.

You reach up to kiss him on the cheek. “What happened in Vegas, can it not stay in Vegas?”

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfic

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mybelovedwoo · 3 days

Note

yunho as boyfriend, please 🩷🩷

The long-awaited yunho boyfriend headcanon is here!!!

jeong yunho as your boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

reader x bf!atz

wc. ~ 0.7k

an: i know this took soo long to write, but I actually had a really busy time since I last posted one of these TT but as summer is here now I'll hopefully have more time to write

you can request headcanons if you want to!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

- the funny golden retriever boyfriend, who never fails to make your mood better and to make you smile (it's his personal goal in his life, to make you the happiest, and he really does)

-just as to everyone, he is your sunshine, your happy pill, the reason you smile every single day

-he is also the "college boyfriend" kind of vibe, who is the love of your life and will be your husband in the future

-he always texts you no matter what, if his phone is in his hands, then he's most definitely chatting with you. also if he can't say anything else, he'll send you memes (it's one of his love languages)

-loves treating you with gifts, would most definitely bring you flowers on date nights, but don't forget about the bag of snacks and chocolates he always brings you on the first day of your period (he even tracks it on his phone, so he can be prepared)

-he's a gamer boy, so it's no surprise he loves it when you make interest and ask about his game, not even talking about when you ask him if you can play with him

-lots of inside jokes

-he is a big act of service guy. absolutely loves cooking for you or making you coffee before you wake up in the morning

-he never lets you pay for anything, even if you beg him. he thinks it's a gesture he is supposed to do as your boyfriend (at least that's what his father taught him)

-gets embarrassed very easily when you compliment him, he gets all shy and giggly, sometimes you do it on purpose, just to see his flustered face because it's the cutest

-he communicates problems so well, that you barely ever fight

-carpool karaoke dates, blasting your favorite music and don't care what other people think of you

-this man has endless energy, so he's never tired of doing anything for you or being with you. when you call him, he's right there just for you

-holding hands 24/7, even if it's too hot outside and your hands get all sweaty, he just doesn't care

-he loooves it when you pamper him, with kisses, or caress his back

-he asks for your opinion on everything, if you don't like something then he doesn't like it either. your opinion is the most valuable thing for him

-goofy nicknames that don't even make sense but you can't help but love it

-somehow always knows what you're thinking about. when you feel uncomfortable in a situation, he's right there for the rescue, tho you didn't give him any specific sign, he just knows you too well. or when you come home from work, you haven't spoken yet, but he knows by just looking at you that you had a bad day and ready to cuddle you all night long

-idk he gives off shy kisses vibes with lots of giggles, but when it's really intimate he just holds your face in his big ass hands

nsfw +18!!!

-okaay hear me out, he is probably a switch, but mostly a bottom. he just loves it when you take control, it's his favorite thing

-he would prefer the good old cowgirl position, but anything, where you're on top is his "favorite", at least that's what he says

-but there are times when his dominant side comes out and ohh boy, you are so blessed to experience it

-when he's in that mood, he just rails you with no mercy. he has to let out all the tension and there's no better place than in the bedroom

-he does magic with his long fingers, takes you to heaven then brings you right back to earth

-he likes doing it in a chair with you on top, of course, he likes the closeness and loves holding you during it

- sex with him is anything but boring, yeah it's really sweet with a lot of emotions, but it's also really passionate and sensual. he would recommend new positions and toys all the time, he likes experiencing

-for places, I think he's a traditional in-bed kind of guy, he likes to stay comfortable

-holds your hand and whispers sweet nothings into your ears, he talks you through it (with a really low and raspy voice)

-you have sex max three times a week, especially after a date night it's an essential

-his libido is quite high since he's a dancer, he can go multiple rounds in one night

-he likes to cuddle after, holds you in his arms. after a couple of minutes, you both just fall asleep right there and then

taglist: @dinossaurz (you can message me if you want to be added or removed)

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arcanesea · 2 days

Text

fine line

PAIRING: kim seungmin x reader GENRE: fluff WC: 572 WARNINGS: none(?)

“Okay, that’s it,” Seungmin closed the book he was holding, looking directly at you. “What’s going on with you?”

Nothing’s going on with you, is what you want to say. But you just stopped scrolling and shifted your gaze to Seungmin who was leaning on the couch across from you. Your eyebrows raised in a questioning manner.

“You’ve sighed like 100 times in the past 15 minutes,” Seungmin observes. You rolled your eyes at him, focusing back on your screen. You scroll past a book review video; too tired to think, scroll past a breakfast recipe without saving it, scroll past a cute animation video without even smiling.

“101 times now,” Seungmin announces. You look at him, still not saying anything. Afraid that if you even open your mouth, you won’t stop talking. Seungmin stands from his seat and moves to the other end of your couch. He lifted your feet fleetingly before sitting down with your feet on his lap. “Don’t you want to share what’s inside that little brain of yours?”

“Are you saying I’m dumb?” you voiced for the first time since the last hour. You wittingly press your heel towards his thigh, earning a low grumble from Seungmin.

“That’s your word, I won’t say such things to my girlfriend,” Seungmin said, drumming to your shin. “So?”

You unintentionally sigh and then smile at Seungmin when you realize before setting your phone on your chest.

“Don’t you feel like the world is moving too fast?” you proposed. Lately, the bones in your body refuse to cooperate, and you’re just constantly tired. “Weren’t we just graduating high school yesterday? And suddenly we’re going on our own way, doing interns and everything else. It’s like we don’t even have time for each other.” your voice waning.

“Aw, is this your way of saying you miss me?” Seungmin teased. You respond by once again pressing your heel towards his thigh. “But I get you” he leaned back on the couch, pausing to find the right word to respond to you. You sigh again, laughing now that you remember the exact count of how many times you sigh.

“I don’t think it’s normal to feel this way, because like… we have different paces, and I shouldn’t compare myself to others. But at the same time, I just can’t stop thinking about where we’ll go in life… What will happen to… us?”

“Do you think we’ll break up after we graduate?” You nodded sheepishly. A grin plastered on your face, matching Seungmin’s playful energy. He puts a hand over his chest, sounding hurt, “Unbelievable.”

You laugh ardently. Of course, there’s only a small part of you that thinks that way, the others are proceeding with certainty that you’ll get through whatever crisis this is with him.

“I know you’ve heard enough of it, and it probably won’t have any effects. But we’re going to be fine, babe,” Seungmin said, tracing circles on your shin. “The future’s undecided, right, but we’re doing everything we can right now to shape it into something that we dreamt about.”

And he’s only wrong about one thing, every word he says does have its effect on you, and you believe in him. You believe you’ll be fine.

a/n. shout out to every last-year college student out there. we got this<3 also seungmin kinda look like jake (enha) on that pic... he's so boyfriend

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artdcnaldson · 13 hours

Note

In part 2 you mentioned Patrick x reader having makeup sex after they got into stupid argument…. Can we get a flashback to one of those moments🤭🤭 domestic Patrick starting an argument with reader and reader calling him out about it but they end up making up in a cute way. Like Patrick making it up in a corny but cute way??? Just a suggestion, part 2 was amazing btw!

Rating: T

Warnings: just a minor argument, language ofc

A/N: thank youuuu!!! No smut in this little blurb, just a snapshot of domestic Patrick x reader in the changeover au 🫶🫶🫶

Also working on art x reader first time and also Patrick x reader first I love you blurbs for the changeover au :) so those will be coming sooooon

It was easy to let the stupid arguments devolve. It started with a facial expression when you brought up your college roommate’s wedding. An eye roll, an I-don’t-want-to-fucking-deal-with-that. And that became your, “why do you treat my friends and my life as less important?”

“I can’t fucking believe you got that out of me wanting to ditch Katie’s wedding to her dickhead loser fiancé.” Patrick’s words came out so flippant that it infuriated you further. “You don’t even talk to her outside of Facebook comments.”

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I didn’t realize that you’d be so fucking opposed to free food and booze considering you live off of it.”

Patrick set his jaw, glaring at you. It was a low blow, one you knew would sting. “I’m opposed to wasting my time flying out to bum fuck Iowa to because Katie— who has always hated me, by the way— is marrying some dickhead who’s a shill for a corrupt asshole in congress.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she would like you, Patrick, if you ever put in an ounce of effort with anyone besides me.”

“Right, because I need to be friends with the kind of people whose proposal was a flash mob.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Right, because you’re just too cool for stuff like that.”

It was so fucking like him— making fun of the lame proposals your friends got, or their baby names, or their engagement shoots. Sometimes they were lame— flash mobs were fucking stupid— but sometimes they were sweet, and romantic, and there was Patrick acting like he’d rather blow his brains out than ever publicly admit he cared.

“Yeah, I am.” He said back.

You rolled your eyes and stood. “Whatever, Patrick. I’ll RSVP for one, again, and you can bum around my apartment alone.”

You had slammed the bedroom door before he could respond, which left him alone and seething in the living room.

You heard the front door open, then slam shut, signaling that Patrick was going out for a smoke, or a walk, or something.

You opened Facebook and scrolled through your feed. Katie’s engagement photos, a coworker’s new baby, a college friend’s bachelorette weekend. And there you were, fighting so your boyfriend would finally be your plus one to something.

It wasn’t always his fault— he had tournaments, and commitments. But a lot of the time, it was an active dismissal of things you found important— engagement parties, friends visiting the city, the increasingly common baby shower.

You didn’t blame him. Adult stuff sucked, and it was almost always boring and agonizingly slow. But you just wanted him to show up with you for things that were big.

It would be stupid to break up over Katie, who you genuinely weren’t even that close to. She’d been a decent friend Freshman year, you supposed, but that was the extent of it. The invitation to the wedding was probably a formality.

All you wanted was an excuse to show off your super hot, super cool boyfriend. To get tipsy over free booze, then leave the wedding early to fuck in the shitty Best Western hotel room that wedding guests would get a discount rate on.

A few hours later, the front door opened, and you sat up against the headboard, waiting eagerly to see if he’d be the first to break, or if you would.

You heard four gentle knocks against the door, saw Patrick’s sneakers beneath the door. “You can come in,” you said softly.

Patrick slipped into the room and joined you on the bed. He kept space between you, just in case you were still mad, but met your gaze with the sad eyes of a kicked puppy.

“I bought a suit,” was all he said. “And I tried to buy you a huge bouquet of flowers since I was a dickhead, but my card declined since I just bought the suit, so…”

His hand was resting on the empty expanse of mismatched bedsheets between you. You moved your hand into his, tangling your fingers together. “You bought a suit, huh?”

He nodded, squeezing your hand lightly. “I’ll stop being a dick about Katie’s wedding.” He paused, turning away from your gaze. “I think… I’m away so much that when I’m home, I just want it to be me and you.”

You leaned forward and kissed his nose. “I just want to show you off to everyone I know,” you said lightly. Your forehead stayed pressed to his, and you relished in the closeness. “I don’t give a fuck about Katie or her ugly loser fiancé’s stupid wedding.”

Patrick grinned. “Oh? So you just want a hot, professional athlete to be your arm candy, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re always cheapening the moment.” You leaned forward kissing him sweetly, which always seemed to devolve into a hungry mess of tongues and spit when Patrick was involved.

“Wait—“ you said suddenly, right as Patrick began peeling off your top. “You said your fucking card declined? You drained your bank account for this stupid wedding?”

He paused, his hands warm on your bare skin. “Uh… it felt like a grand gesture kind of moment.” You leaned in and kissed him, pulling your shirt off the rest of the way.

Not smutty but I neeeeeeeded to write some domestic Patrick x reader 😁🫶 my pookies my babies my loves

#changeover au #patrick zweig fanfic #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #my writing #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader

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morgana-larkin · 2 days

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Alright, got another idea for a fic. I was writing worth it but then got this in my head and just had to write it. I’ve seen a lot of ideas for Melissa x reader but never saw one where it’s age difference but in reverse. Where reader is older than Melissa. Summary: Melissa starts college to become a teacher and ends up falling for one of her teachers. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’m almost done part 10 of Worth It and starting writing the next part of mine.

Wanna Kiss The Teacher

Warnings: Smut, bottom Mel, top reader, reader is older than Melissa, lot of fluff

Words: 3.2k

Melissa was determined to become a teacher. If she couldn’t be a firefighter due to her being a woman, then she’ll be a teacher.

It’s her first day at college and she couldn’t be more excited. While she went to the south Philly college and could stay at home, she chose to get a dorm room on campus since there’s 8 siblings at home and would need quietness for studying.

She walks down the hall on her way to her first class, English Major. She steps into the classroom and finds a seat at the front.

You’re about to start a new year as the English major teacher for the first years. You’re already at your desk at the front of the class, making sure your lesson plan is good. The clock strikes 8:30 and class begins. You get up and go to the chalkboard to write your name on it.

“Alright first years, welcome to your first class of your first year. I’ll be your professor Ms. Y/l/n.” You tell them and then turn around.

Melissa’s smile drops as soon as she sees you, she thinks you look stunning. You’re wearing a white blouse that’s tucked into black jeans that have a bit of flare at the bottom and your hair in a ponytail with some stray hairs at the front on your face.

Alright I’m just going to be taking attendance. While I do that, I suggest getting some paper and pencils ready as I’ll be starting immediately after.” You tell them and you see them all move to their bags. You go through the list of names and then you get to one that you’ll never forget. “Melissa Schemmenti?” You call out and Melissa raises her hand. You look up and do a double take, you think she looks beautiful. Her ginger bangs framing her face just right while the rest of it flows down her body like an orange river. Her black plain shirt that shows off just the right amount of cleavage. And her smile, her smile that can light up all of Philly. You process this all in a second and you go on to the next name on the list.

You then start class and you sometimes can’t help but look over at her. When you ask a question, you look at her first to see if her hand is raised. Most of the time it isn’t. When you first heard her speak, her voice is so confident yet smooth. After class she comes up to your desk.

“Ms. Y/l/n?” She asks you and you look up at her.

“Yes Melissa?” You ask her.

“I was wondering why you kept looking at me when you were teaching?” She asks and you freeze, of course she noticed.

“Well I sometimes can tell when people will make great teachers, and I think you will.” You tell her. Not a total lie, you actually do think she’ll make an excellent teacher. “You know what you’re talking about when you answer a question and you go with the flow. That’s important in this field.” You say and you look at her smiling at you and you suck in a breath quietly.

“Thank you Ms. Y/l/n.” She says and you can’t help but smile at her sweet voice. “I actually wanted to be a firefighter like most of my family but they rejected me due to being a girl so the next thing was being a teacher.” She says and you tilt your head.

“One day I’m sure they’ll accept women in that field. But sometimes I think things happen for a reason and I believe you didn’t get accepted as a firefighter because you’re meant to be a teacher. And who knows, you might save a life when you’re one. Teachers can be heroes too.” You tell her and her smile gets bigger at that.

“Thank you.” She says and she leaves after that.

2 months passes by quickly and you start getting to know her more. You have no idea why but she seems to take an interest in talking to you as much as you do with her. Everyday after class or if you run into each other in the halls or somewhere else then you two stop and talk.

You found out that she’s the oldest of 9 children, 6 daughters and 3 sons. The second oldest is her sister Kristen Marie who is wanting to be a teacher too and is coming next year. She lives on campus even though her family lives half an hour away, she has a big Italian family and her Nonna taught her and her siblings to cook.

She learned that you have 2 siblings, an older sister and brother. You have a dog at home and you live by the campus in one of the townhouses. Also that you have been a teacher for 5 years and that you’re 29 years old.

You can’t deny that your attraction to her grew instead of going away like you thought it would. You can’t do anything about it though, she’s your student and she probably wouldn’t be interested in being with her teacher anyway. It’s not against the law to be with a student but it’s considered unprofessional.

Melissa on the other hand loved getting to know about you. She loved that you didn’t seem to mind talking to her at any chance she got. She finally got the courage to ask to meet your dog, stating she loves meeting dogs and you accepted. You met her at her dorm room and knocked. She opened the door after a few seconds with a smile.

“Ready to go?” You asked her and she nodded and walked out then closed the door behind her. You two walked and talked to each other on the way to your car. You don’t know why you accepted for her to meet your dog Max. You like her and she seemed to take an unusual interest in you.

You got in your car and drove the 3 minutes to your house. You both got out of the car and you went into your place where Max was at the door like he always is when he hears you coming. You bent down to pick him up as he was 15 pounds and turned him to meet Melissa.

“Max, this is Melissa. Melissa this is Max, my little doodle.” You say and pet his head with your free hand.

Melissa stuck her hand out for Max to sniff and after a few sniffs, he deemed her acceptable and jumped out of your hands and ran to her wagging his tail.

“Hi Max.” Melissa said in a higher pitched voice that you assumed was her dog voice. Everyone has one. She started petting Max and he seemed to keep wagging his little tail and started licking and wanting to play with her.

Melissa went on the ground, on her knees and started playing with him. You heard her keep giggling and you thought it was the cutest scene you’ve ever seen and she has the cutest giggle you ever heard.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have water, milk, apple juice.” You suggest and she looked up at you.

“Actually some water would be really nice, please.” She says and you nod your head and go to the kitchen.

When you come out a minute later, you see Melissa running around with Max running after her. She has a huge smile on her face and his tail won’t stop wagging.

“No wonder he likes you, you’re as crazy as he is.” You tell her with a smile and then hand her the cup of water.

She accepts it with a thank you then takes a sip. You can’t help but look at her lips when she does. The way she places it on the cup and her mouth is a bit open to let the water in. You look down at her neck when she swallows and entranced by the way it moves. You look away when she’s done her sip, hoping she didn’t catch you staring at her.

She did catch you staring and with a wave of confidence, she puts the glass down, grabs your shirt and pulls you to her lips.

You pull back after your brain catches up with the situation and you look at her like a deer in the headlights.

“Melissa, why did you just kiss me?” You ask her shocked. When you ask that, all her confidence she got vanished and she got really nervous.

“Be-because I like you and I- I had a-a feeling that you liked me back. I- I’m sorry, I read the situation wrong.” She stuttered a bit and you grabbed her wrist when she started backing away.

“Melissa, you didn’t read the situation wrong. I do like you, and I’m honestly surprised you like me. But I’m your teacher.” You tell her and she blushes.

“You really do like me?” She asks and you nod. She goes to kiss you again but you stop her with a hand on her chest.

“Melissa, I’m your teacher, we can’t.” You tell her and she pouts.

“It’s not illegal, I’m 18.”

“You’re right, it’s not illegal but we shouldn’t as it’s considered unprofessional. And also, same sex relationships aren’t fully accepted yet.” You tell her and she looks down. You hold her hands and she looks up at you and into your eyes. “You’re beautiful, kind and wonderful and I’m certain that you’ll find someone, someone who isn’t your teacher.” You tell her and she looks at you with determination.

“Why can’t the person be you? I don’t care if you’re my teacher. I like you and I want to be with you.” She tells you, not backing down. Suddenly Max jumps at Melissa from behind and she stumbles forward, into you. You catch her and she feels amazing in your arms. She lifts a hand up and moves a lock of your hair out of your face and you look at her stunned.

You suddenly feel like you can’t deny her anymore, you lean forward and kiss her. You move your hand to the back of her head and she moves her hand to your neck. You pull back and lean your forehead on hers, both of you breathing heavy.

“I really shouldn’t be doing this.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

“You shouldn’t, but you want too.” She replies back with and you chuckle.

“I really do want you.” You tell her and she pulls back to look at your face.

“Then take me, take me right now.” She suddenly says and you quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Melissa, we shouldn’t be doing that. I mean I just found out you like me back literally 5 minutes ago.” You tell her and she leans forward.

“But haven’t you wanted me for longer than 5 minutes?” She says and starts kissing your neck. You tilt your head to the opposite side to give her more access and you hum.

“Oh god, yes I have. Since day 1 I thought you were so beautiful.” You admit to her and you feel her smile on your neck.

She pulls back a bit. “So then take me, please. I’ve wanted you since day 1 as well. I don’t want to wait any longer.” She tells you and you look at her.

“Are you a virgin?” You ask her and she looks down for a second then looks back up at you and nods.

“Is that a problem?” She asks you and you groan.

“Melissa, I-I-” you start to say but then gets cut off as she starts sucking on your neck and you moan. “Melissa, you’re first- first time, should be with someone special.” You tell her and she pulls back and looks at you.

“All the other people that I’ve had interest in, I didn’t want to have sex with them, but I want to have sex with you.” She tells you and places her hands under your shirt, on your hip.

She starts to inch her hands up, slowly asking for permission to take it off and kisses you passionately. “Fuck it.” You say as you pulled back and took your shirt off. You then surge forward and kiss her hard, causing her to walk backwards until she hits a wall. You press her up against the wall and trail down her neck. She gasp underneath you when you start sucking on her neck.

You place your hands at the hem of her shirt, pull back and look at her.

“Are you 100% certain about this. If we continue then I won’t want to stop. Well I will if you tell me to at any point but-” she cuts you off with a kiss.

“I’m certain, I want you.” She tells you and you pull her shirt off. She unclips her bra and lets it fall to the ground. When you see her chest bare before you, you almost couldn’t believe it. They were magnificent and you lick your lips. You look at her and she nods, giving you permission to touch them all you want.

Instead you pick her up bridal style and she yelps due to the shock. You bring her to your room and put her down gently on your bed. You climb on top of her and kiss her and put your hands on both her breasts and squeeze a little bit. She moans under you and starts squirming when you put your mouth on a nipple. You put your body on hers when she won’t stop squirming and you can feel her trying to move still. If it wasn’t her first time then you’d tell her to stop squirming, but for her to actually concentrate on what she’s feeling, then you’ll let her try to move how her body feels like it needs too.

She snakes her hand around your back and she unclips your bra then pulls it off. You trail down to her pants then look at her and she nods at you again. You undo the button on her jeans then pull the zippeee down before pulling her pants down. You pull her underwear down at the same time by accident but play it off like you meant to do that.

You smile at her completely bare under you and she’s stunning, angelic looking. You take your pants and underwear off then get down on your knees. You hook your arms around her legs and pull her towards the edge of the bed. You immediately attach your mouth to her clit and she moans out. She bucks her hips and you have to pin her down. She grabs a hold of your hair and she gasps when you go faster. You can tell she’s close by the fact that she’s shaking and she’s breathing heavily.

“Oh god, y/n, I’m so close!” She tells you. You add a finger in her entrance and she gasps loudly. She then comes with a scream and you don’t slow down. She lets go of your hair and grabs hold of a pillow. You can see she needs something to stabilise herself so you remove your mouth from her clit and put your thumb there instead. You then lay on top of her but you put one arm next to her and lean on it so you don’t put all your weight on her. You kiss her lips and she’s all too eager to kiss you back. She then pulls back and gasps when she comes again.

You slow down inside of her and remove your thumb from her clit and the finger that’s inside of her. She just lays there breathing heavily and you kiss her and she kisses you back. While kissing her, she inserts a finger in your entrance by surprise and you gasp in the kiss. You then pull back and have your mouth hanging open when she starts moving in and out of you. You start riding her finger and she lets you.

“Dio mio.” She blurts out and you moan at that, she sounds beautiful speaking Italian. You ride her finger in a way that gets her finger to hit that spot inside of you that brings you close to the edge. Melissa catches on quickly and wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to her. You end up stop riding her finger and she starts doing the pumping again, only this time the way she knows you like the best. Melissa slides another finger in you and you squeak out a gasp. You’re close to an orgasm and you kiss her again. You gasp into the kiss as you come and she slows down and pulls out of you.

You pull back from kissing her and she brings her fingers to her mouth and she licks her fingers clean. You both end up cuddling, with her head on your chest and your arm wrapped around her.

“I hope you know that this won’t affect your grade at all, even though you were amazing.” You tell her and she giggles.

“We both know that I don’t need it. My grades are already high.” She replies back with.

“That’s true.” You say and look at her with adoration. She looks up at you and sees your eyes and she blushes.

“I got to kiss my teacher.” She says proudly and you laugh.

“Oh you did a lot more than just kiss me sweetheart.”

*30 years later*

Melissa and Barb were in the break room talking while the trio was at their table. You suddenly walk in and hand Melissa a bag of takeout and she looks at you confused.

“What did you do?” She asks you.

“Nothing, I can’t just surprise my wife with her favourite takeout food?” You tell her slyly and she quirks an eyebrow. “I’m bored.” You tell her and she giggles. “Only teaching 2 classes instead of 4 is boring.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you.

“Melissa, you have a wife?” Janine asks and you both turn to the trio who’s looking at you both stunned.

“I never hid that I’m married.” She says.

“You never said it was to a woman.” Jacob tells her and you look at Melissa and cross your arms.

“Really?” You say to her and she gives you her cutest smile. “20 years we’ve been married and you still don’t tell people you have a wife.” You mumble out and she chuckles.

“Come sit Bella.” She tells you and you move a chair right beside her and sit down. She leans in closer to you and you wrap an arm around her. “Thanks for the food Amore.” She tells you and digs into the bag.

“Not a problem sweetheart.” You tell her and she turns to you and gives you a kiss. Barb and the trio are watching the interaction with a smile.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #x reader #fanfic #law

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ariforshort · 1 day

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loser!mizu as your girlfriend

︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

જ⁀➴warnings/tags— mentions of alcohol, sex/smut, homophobic jokes, sewerslide jokes, taigen, college au, no beta read we die like mikio and mama

જ⁀➴a/n— happy pride month, my loves!! I said I'd write some loser!mizu and I don't really have the energy for full fics right now, so here's some headcanons!! sorry it's a little short, but I've got something in the works right now! love u all —ari, disappearing🕷️🌀

sfw ! 𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩

જ⁀➴she is CLINGY. especially when she's drunk, which isn't often. she's constantly got a hand on you— your hip, waist, shoulder, thigh, if it's within reach she WILL grab it. baby is touch starved as hell

જ⁀➴would pick up rocks for you and give them to you all the time, you have a rock collection in your room that is slowly taking over

જ⁀➴when you first met she quite literally could not talk to you— you were simply too much even to look at, but in the best way possible. she went home that night and cried because she couldn't talk to you.

જ⁀➴the best caretaker ever. you being you, you'll often come home drunk and barely able to function while mizu will always be waiting for you to come home, stone cold sober, to take care of you

જ⁀➴she washes your hair and body for you, helps you change, makes sure you eat and have some water, etc etc

જ⁀➴in the event where you're sick, she's an angel sent from the heavens. she'll stay with you at any chance she gets, never once leaving your side other than to get things for you. she'll let you give her your illness and still take care of you despite being ill herself.

જ⁀➴literally the sweetest thing, she's constantly checking up on you to make sure you're okay :')

જ⁀➴taigen bullies her constantly about how whipped she is, she'll tell him to khs and he will always reply with the same thing; "no you kys you're literally gay" and they will say the same things over and over again until you stop them.

જ⁀➴at your side CONSTANTLY. she ties your shoelaces, puts on your necklaces and bracelets, pulls up your socks, does your hair, fuck it she'll make an attempt at your makeup if you let her

જ⁀➴the second you give her even a little idea that you're insecure, she's all over you— hands, lips, eyes trailing over you as if she can hardly believe you're there.

જ⁀➴she finds it hard to believe you're here and you're hers, and she loses her mind when she gets to put her hands on you because you're so perfect.

nsfw! 𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩

જ⁀➴has the most loser virgin energy ever

જ⁀➴this does NOT stop her from fuckin dirty, she is somehow really good at sex without knowing

જ⁀➴has a super high sex drive but refuses to let on to it

જ⁀➴stone top/service top :]

જ⁀➴she eats pussy like it's her first meal in years and her last meal on death row, pussydrunk as hell

જ⁀➴despite being soft as hell in most situations she is SO rough sometimes it's insane. initially she's terrified of hurting you but after finding out how much it gets to you she minds less

જ⁀➴is very much one for soft gentle sex though, the 'whispering how much she loves you as she buries her face in your neck' type, ya get me?? she's so soft it's adorable, you tell her this and she will INSTANTLY cum

જ⁀➴will eat you out regardless what you're doing— on your phone, reading, studying, in the shower, she's in-between your legs 95% of the time and it never gets old.

#𝜗𝜚ari writes #lesbian #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #bes #modern au #mizu x reader #loser!mizu #i love her so much

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yooglefics · 2 days

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The casual type: 03 . The past

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader Wordcount: 2,993 words Genre ( for the whole series ): AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ?????. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. Fluff for cute friends. Summary: ( Ep. 03 ) • Is finally time to talk about how you got here. And of course, you aren't the only one with a past. Warnings under read more.

Includes ( this episode ): There's flirting and progress is made. The squad is cute. Mentions of cheating in the past ( not from main characters ), bad relationship dynamics, fuckboy shenanigans ( say no to fuckboys ), and broken hearts. Author's note: I have a question for you guys: should I start adding the pet names in the warning? Because my thing is that Yoongi has been using them in context of what is happening, like in a banter kind of way, but… should that be a warning in itself? As always, hope you like this one, remember to leave a comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or whatnot. Thank you for reading <3

The motorcycle ride wasn't as scary as you thought it'd be. In fact, it was kind of calming. The streets were mostly empty and Yoongi drove at a decent speed, mainly of course, because you told him you'd kill him if he didn't. But it was nice, a good distraction and an interesting way to end a hectic night.

Monday morning comes around and your stomach hurts with anxiety at the thought of the inevitable. Is even worse than when you have to give a class presentation, at least in those cases your life isn't the subject. And your only hope to get you throughout the day is that everything would feel better after talking with the guys.

“Are you not finishing those?” Jungkook points at the fries on your plate after a while of sitting in the cafeteria. Your group has assigned this time as lunch hour since everyone is free while some of them wait for their next class.

“You can have them if you want.” Everyone's eyes turn to you as if a second head has grown, “I'm not hungry.”

“But… is fries?” Says the soccer player and to his credit, is true that turning down fries is a sign you may be sick, and honestly, it feels a little bit like you are and that's what finally makes you decide is time.

“Let's talk. Outside.”

You can't bear the awkwardness. They tip-toeing around, putting too much thought on your actions. It can't go any longer, but you still take a few minutes to walk them outside the cafeteria and to the back of the building. Away from the protagonist of your story.

“Oh… hi.” Greets Yoongi, his arm mid air as he stops the action of putting a cigarette between his lips. “Walking all together like that, you guys do look like a gang,” he jokes after you and your friends say hello.

“Says the guy smoking,” Jimin’s answer, gaining some laughs.

“Sorry,” he really seems remorseful, “I'll go somewhere else.”

“Actually,” grabbing his forearm, you stop him from leaving. “Can you stay? I think I do need moral support.”

On friday night he told you asking Mai to be there when talking about everything could be a good idea, and with a shake of your head against his back you answered you didn't want to bother her, already feeling bad about worrying her that night. So, he said he would do it. If you needed support he would be there as a payment for saving him at the club the night you met and that you only needed to ask.

Even so, it is surprising to you when he just nods and goes back to his position against the wall. You stay in front of him and your friends gather at your sides in a circle, ready to listen.

“Okay. Well,” you take a deep breath, “first you have to promise to not do anything. Not threatening, not breaking noses. Nothing. You promise?”

They do, with only a “But if it is really bad can I scream at them?” from Jungkook.

“No. I don't want more drama.”

And they nod once more, and again, you breathe.

“So, there's this guy, he is from the basketball team,” Hobi got that right, but it wasn’t surprising after you took a liking for going to the games and then stopped just as suddenly even if Jungkook was still part of the team. “We were talking for a couple months. You know, messaging and… just flirting I guess.”

“You guess?” Taehyun asks to clarify.

“Yes? I… I don't know. Sometimes it would be more obvious than others and we would talk about what we wanted in a relationship as if we were talking about our relationship.” In the moment you thought it was obvious, you were flirting and planning the future; both of you mentioned wanting something beautiful and long lasting. But after everything, you wonder how truthful everything really was. “We even went on a few dates and on Valentine's he got me a necklace and a cute cart saying how much I meant to him.”

“And you didn't tell me?” Jimin argues. The only one that says something even when all your friends at surprised at that.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to, I swear, but I also wanted to enjoy it just myself for a little bit.”

“And what happened? Why did it end?” Tae wonders impatiently.

“Well,” the phantom pain from that day is back on your chest, “sometime at the beginning of April he canceled a date and because I already had told you guys I was staying on campus to study, I ended up going to the movies by myself and…”

“He was there?” You nod. “With… someone… else?”

All your friends react at Tae's guess and you only nod again. Your eyes are fixed on Yoongi, on the half burnt cigarette still in his hand that is now off, to avoid looking at them and the sadness on their faces. You can't handle that. Even when you tell yourself you're over everything, finally telling them about it and knowing how it makes them feel revives how you hurt back then. In a certain way, it gives you the validation you didn't have at the time, and that you didn't know you needed.

Is healing, and you wish a little bit you had told them sooner.

“I bumped into her and at first I didn't see him.” You continue narrating, “Her drink spilled and I was helping dry her hand when I noticed the little smiley on her bracelet and it was the same as mine.”

There are reactions all around the circle once more, Yoongi's “how original” comment makes your lips curve slightly. And it’s surprising, but you’re glad to be able to find the fun in it now.

“I didn't think anything about it, you know, just like, cool, we have the same cute pendant, but then I heard his voice and well… It wasn't cute anymore.”

You remember how shocked you were in the moment and his face as he realized it was you in front of them.

“What did you do?” asks Hobi.

“At least tell us you spilled the drink on him next.” Adds Jungkook.

“I didn't do anything,” and there's a part of you that regrets it. “I was so surprised and confused. I thought that maybe I'd made it all up in my head, that maybe he didn't mean the things he said like that. Because there was no way he could just turn around and be official with another girl by next monday, right?” You pause for a second to take some air, trying to calm down since the tears would be threatening to fall anytime soon. “But he did. And when I texted him and asked to meet up to talk, he replied with just a «thanks for these few months».” A dry laugh leaves your throat, every time you think about that text you find it stupider. “And just like that it was over. And I felt so dumb for letting it happen.”

“Don't say that. Is not on you,” says Hobi immediately.

“He played you. He is an asshole.” Jungkook continues, “C'mon here, so I don't run back in and punch his stupid face,” he says bringing you into a hug.

“So,” Yoongi starts after a few minutes of sitting in silence on the bench outside the cafeteria. Your appetite has come back and your friends are busy with their next class, one you don't share even with the ones in your major since you have stuck to an all-morning schedule, so you're left to share a bag of chips with him. “Can I ask something?”

“Can I refuse to answer?”

“I hope you don't,” that makes you laugh, “because I'm really curious now.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“What happened seems like the perfect reason to avoid casual things, but that's not what I got from our date.”

“That's not a question, Yoongi,” you remark playfully when he doesn't continue, turning to him, bending your leg on the bench. “You want to know why I didn't run the moment you told me you didn't want a relationship?”

“Yes,” he nods, “that's what I meant. What I want to know.”

“Well, because you were honest about it.” Is as simple as that, but he still looks unsure. “I’m pretty sure that Chr– that guy,” remembering Yoongi is trying for the team you decide is best to not give out names to him either, “wasn't looking for something serious when we were talking, but he played into it because I said I was. He built my hopes up of something more and in the end he kind of just admitted that I was someone he was just spending time with. He didn't want something serious with me but he wasn't honest about it.”

“Would you have had something with him if he had been honest? If he asked to be friends with benefits or whatever?”

You chew a chip while thinking, taking some time.

“I don't know,” is your final answer, “I know it hasn't even been a year, but I was different back then, had other expectations and such. But what I'm sure of is that I'd have loved to be able to decide for myself, you know?”

“Of course. Is different when you are the one deciding to put your heart at potential risk.” he steals a chip from your bag, and silence falls once again.

So far Yoongi has proven to be a good person to talk to and to just be around in general, maybe Mai and Hobi were right about you guys being similar and setting up the date last week. Thinking about that and the phrase he just said reminds you of something and is your turn to wonder.

“Did she break your heart?”

“Who?”

“The redhead from the club.”

His expression changes a little bit, but you're getting better at noticing, so you catch it. “Thought you had forgotten about that.”

“Almost did, but you know, I'm curious too.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” you complete the idiom, smiling proudly.

“Touché.”

“I'm a smart cat, what can I say.”

That gets you a smile from Yoongi and he changes position, reclining his back against the bench and looking straight ahead he commences. “We met at the beginning of university, had a few classes together and started hanging out, became friends, and then started dating at the start of our second semester. Everything was easy and calm, the change from friends to more didn't even register to me, I… I don't know if it makes sense.”

“Sounds lovely,” you point out.

“It was. I thought it was perfect. And perhaps it was for a while, but after dating for about nine months something changed.” A little wrinkle appears on his forehead as he thinks, “I couldn't point it out and sometimes it felt like it was all in my head. And that made me more nervous because I didn't want to self-sabotage, you know.” You nod, fully facing his side now, sitting indian style and bag of chips on your lap. Paying attention as he did before for you.

“She wasn't big on PDA and I respected that, but when I told Mai we were together and she got mad I kind of realized that we had been secretly dating for almost a year. None of hers, and ours, closest friends knew about us and it felt… it hurt.” He pauses for a moment, bringing his hands to his jacket’s pockets. “So, I wanted to talk to her about it. To try and find a solution, to tell her I was sorry for telling Mai but I wanted to talk to my best friend about my girlfriend and how much I…” another pause, breathing in. “But when I went to her dorm, it was Jay who opened the door.”

You gasp unintentionally, covering your mouth right away. “Where they…?” You don't know what to say. And you don't really need to say anything, everything is pretty clear.

“Turns out they had been together for about three months at that point.”

You gasp again, shocked.

“In and out, kitten, don't die.” He manages to joke and that makes you feel worse about your response.

“Sorry. Is just…”

“A lot?”

“Yeah. And… crazy. How could she cheat on you? I mean, in general, I don't get why people do it, but… on you?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He chuckles a bit.

“I mean because your relationship sounded lovely. Dating your friend? That's the goal, isn't it?” You correct, “But also, yes. You're good looking and your kissing game is not bad.”

“You're not bad yourself.”

Looking at each other, you both laugh.

“I'm sorry that happened to you,” you offer sincerely on a more serious note, “you know it is not on you, right?”

“I know,” he sighs, Mai had made sure to repeat it to him countless times back when everything happened and the couple months after until he truly believed it, “thank you.”

“And I know is scary and I'm not one to say it but… don't let what happened make you run away from the opportunity of something great.”

Yoongi smiles softly without really reaching his eyes and you completely understand when instead of keeping the conversation serious, he asks “Are you flirting with me?”

“You turned me down, remember? I'm not doing that again,” you answer only half joking.

“C’mon, I told you why I did it”

“You were deciding for me.” He opens and closes his mouth, shaking his head and before he can apologize again, you clarify, “I'm just joking.”

“You're mean. But I forgive because you're cute.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Yes.” He answers without a beat.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

A pause, contemplating.

“You wish.”

He smirks, “I do.”

And you do too. But your bravery from the other night is not here today and you wonder if it's because you're at the University campus or because all you have done today is talk about your bad luck in relationships and the fear of it all.

What if your friends see?

What if anyone else who knows them sees and tells them?

But what if it is the last chance you get to kiss Yoongi again?

Why are you overthinking it? Wasn't your plan to just go with the flow or whatever cheesy quote you chose?

“Was that too much?” Yoongi asks. The wind has blown a strain of hair into your face and he pulls it back in place behind your ear. “I don't have a problem being the one flirting, but if you really don't want me to do it again I'd completely stop. I promise.”

“Is not that,” you quickly answer. “I–I like it, is just…” some people walk out of the cafeteria, and you follow them with your gaze, is hard for him not to notice.

“Come with me?” Standing up after him, you follow Yoongi across campus and behind the auditorium. He has only been here about a week, that's why you're surprised when he announced not a lot of people come here confidentiality.

“The ones still on campus are busy, either in normal classes or in extracurriculars.”

“You aren't on any extracurriculars?”

A shake of your head, “I live through Jungkook, that kid does everything.”

Yoongi laughs. “That's why everyone knows him?”

“That and those Bambi's eyes,” you nod, laughing with him.

You are calmer now and guess that was Yoongi’s plan for bringing you here. So, when he doesn't say anything else, you decide to continue the other conversation.

“I guess that's why it’s kind of scary to flirt so openly with you. Especially now after finding out about the whole thing with Hobi and the basketball team,” you sigh.

“Do you think someone is going to tell him if they see us?”

“Probably?”

“So are you telling me to stop flirting?”

“No.” You answer too fast and he smirks, making you feel a bit shy, but yet, you continue. “I’m just not sure how they'd take the whole «hey, I'm flirting and kissing this guy. Is nothing serious we are just messing around».”

“«Messing around»? Are you fifty?” Yoongi laughs.

“They are! When is about me they act like everything is so extreme,” you pout a little.

“Poor baby,” he mirrors your pout, hands on your shoulders rubbing them softly.

“And I'm scared they would make everything so dramatic, you know? Like, if we want to kiss or whatever without being so serious about it, then what’s the issue?”

“They worry about you and want to protect you. Don't blame them too much.”

“Don't be on their side,” you shove him a little, “I'm trying to kiss you.”

He laughs, “Sorry. I'm on your side.” Pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around your middle.

“While we both are on the same page about what we want, it shouldn't be an issue. Don't you agree?”

“Totally.”

“So,” you look up at him, “what do you want?”

“I want to kiss you.”

You blush at how direct he is. “Not what I meant.”

“Well, like I said, I'm not really looking for a relationship right now. I don't think I'm ready to put myself at that emotional risk again yet. But I didn’t mind you kissing me, and wouldn't complain if you want to do it again,” he says honestly. “What about you?”

“Also not really looking for a serious relationship. I think I just want to explore life a little, whatever that means. I want to have fun and not get hurt.”

“I'll never hurt you.”

“I'll never hurt you, either,” you promise looking into chocolate eyes, getting on the tip of your toes to peck his lips, sealing it.

A/N: alright, this is officially a friends with benefits fic now, who is excited? asdfg Check this post for the calendar and pinterest board and more yapping that tumblr doesn't let me add here :/

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bittersweet-folder · 2 days

Text

Kiss me then? ＊*•

Pairing: Seokmin × gn reader. [note: they have been long time friends and roommates before becoming lovers]

Genre: fluff , very very soft fluff. [in an established relationship<3]

Song rec: bad by wave to earth.

Word count:700 [masterlist]

Taglist : @hongmingoo , @shuabby1994 , @unlikelysublimekryptonite , @asyre , @yumiyumis-blog @soobunsbun , @nishloves , @aaniag , @sikuthealien , @jespecially , @lizza2001 , @snapdragin002 , @thepoopdokyeomtouched .

"Seokmin, have you ever thought of kissing me?" you said, staring at the sun slowly setting on the horizon, painting the waters of the river in a bluish orangish hue.

"I do kiss you y/n" Seokmin mumbled, his hand was around your waist while your head leaned on his shoulder. His attention was also on the mesmerizing scenery in front of him.

"Well, I'm not talking about the cheek or hand or forehead kisses. I'm talking about the one on the lips." your voice sounded more like a whisper.

You sit up straight, turning to look at him. He turns to face you as well. You notice his features illuminated in the bright orangish light. He had three moles on his face, two on the cheek and another one right above his jawline on the left side.

"I actually did think of kissing on your lips and even once dreamt of it" he had a soft smile on his lips. His eyes went back and forth from your eyes to your lips. You'd be lying if that actually didn't make you feel nervous. Seokmin was patient unlike the other few men you've gone on dates with. But he is also your friend who is now your boyfriend as well. For three months in fact.

"Alright.. That's cute" you muttered as you looked away.

Seokmin hummed in response.

You both stayed till the sun had totally dissolved on the horizon and the warm colors of the sky were slowly fading into the blue of the night. The picnic date came to an end.

Without a kiss on the lips?Well yeah.

With Seokmin walking back home with you hand in hand without saying anything much? Also yes.

The silence was comfortable though you still kinda hoped he talked about the kiss more. After coming back home you both were heading back to your own rooms to change your clothes. (You guys had separate rooms but you both shared the apartment y'all have lived in since last year in college. For 2yrs now to be more accurate).

"Seokminnie we should watch a movie while having dinner okay!"

"Of course babe but you chose the movie this time" he chirped.

"Alright!~"

As soon as you were about to open the door of your room, Seokmin grabbed your hand.

"umm by the way can we talk about the kissing thing you mentioned,love?" He said, looking straight, holding eye contact.

"Yeah.. " you paused a little "sure come inside my room" you added. He was still holding your hand while your heart was hammering to your chest. Now standing in the empty space in your room, you were a bit tense about it. And he did notice that.

"Hey.." he paused and settled his hands on your shoulders "no need to be tensed up okay? I just wanted to say that I..really wanted to kiss you in the park, that time but I was a bit skeptical since you looked away." he breathed. His eyes were still locked to your now wide eyes, lips slightly parted.

"I-" you paused for a moment, "kiss me then?" you said. That was honestly all he really wanted to hear as he leaned in to press his lips onto yours. Your eyes shut as you felt the softness of his lips. One of his hands leisurely brushed your shoulder as it slithered around your waist pulling you closer, making you gasp softly. While his other hand rested on your back. Bodies pressed against each other, your lips moved in a rhythmic pattern to his with your hands slowly making their way around his neck. Your fingers softly brushed through his hair. After a while you both pulled away breathless. His forehead touched yours, eyes still closed just like yours are. You let out a chuckle.

"That was…" he breathed and then continued "really nice"

"We should do this often then" you smiled.

And that's how you kissed your long time friend who's your present boyfriend, Seokmin, on the lips in the middle of your own bedroom.

Curtains closed. Now go get some anti delulu pills from Minghao 🚶🏻‍♀️(idk how should I even end it so anyways) .

A/n: soo.. either this heat will k*ll me or not studying properly will😃👍🏻.

anyways comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, I did proofread but lemme know if there's any mistakes. 🪻🪿. Okay bye~🪿

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poppy-metal · 2 days

Note

that therapy piece was so beautiful:( what if you DID end up divorcing or at least separating, art does end up joining patrick and tashi in their weird whatever the fuck, and we’re like. yeah. thought so. but little do we know that he’s an actual mess that can’t even function, let alone fuck, when he does manage to get it up he bursts into tears before anyone can cum, and as sad tashi and patrick are for their boyfriend they also really need to have a decent orgasm without some guy crying in the background so they have to like…parent trap you back together

the angst of this is so beautiful hold awn...... cause art WOULD be someone who wouldn't realize what an important force in his life you are until you're gone. in my mind, you and him knew eachother since you were kids. didn't start dating till a little before college and then you just..... stayed together. no breakups. hardly any fights. Its not like any love was lost between you two but, there was this kind of lack of...... well, fire. tashi and patrick lit apart of him up inside, and what you refuse to acknowledge is they kinda did the same for you two. you both kinda orbited around patrick and tashi in college, and similarly they orbited back around you. you just couldn't see your importance there - so you extracted yourself from that patricktashi part of your life to devote yourself to art, while he stayed in their lives because he cant live without the kind of passion they ignite in him. the anger, the jealousy, the excitement.

with you gone though its like...... hes floundering. you're so soft, is the thing. arts always depended on your softness. you dont hurt him. you dont make him angry. you're warm and gentle and he can rest his head on your lap and fall asleep like a baby fawn in the middle of the woods with no fear a wolf will come along and rip him apart. in a bad way, you're safe. in a toxic way, being with you is him choosing to not take a leap with patrick or tashi and feel anything uncomfortable.

but in a good way, you're his best friend. in a healthy way, you're his anchor. his north star. and usually thats seen as a bad thing, he knows, love is supposed to be passionate and scary but what about when he wants to be held and just at peace? you've seen him through everything and you stayed. he knows he can put his heart in your hands and you wont crush it. and he loves you for it. you're the most tender, beautiful thing that's ever happened to him.

so its like. those two needs. the fire and the passion and the softness and tranquility. and where art has messed up is seeing them in two different ways. he cant put all his scary, passionate emotions onto you in fear of rejection and ruining what you have. he cant depend on patrick or tashi completely either because he doesn't trust them with his heart like he does with you.

hes left you alone in that sense. because you need the passion too. you needed it from him for so long and maybe your part of the blame is never asking for it. for cutting tashi and patrick out of your life because you were too scared of it at the time. but the longer you spent with art, the more you craved it. the fights, the breakups, the makeup sex. all of that.

so when you leave arts comfort is gone. he thinks, well maybe its for the best. i can take a risk now, i can try this thing with tashi - and even patrick. but it doesn't feel right. the leap doesn't feel good. and he realizes its because it was a leap he was always meant to take with you, together.

all these things patrick and tashi do - he should've done with you. he should've fought with you when you pissed him off. he should've tried to be more sexually adventurous. when tashi kisses him all he can think about is how you should be here. he should've asked why you stopped talking to them - he should've pushed you - he should've - he should've - he should've -

he spends nights at their house because he cant stand being alone in the house you shared. in the empty fucking bed. he'll end up pulling one of your sweaters from the closet you forgot to take with you that still smells like you, vanilla and cashmere, and cry into it like a pathetic slob. hes miserable. he wants you back.

he wants you back so he can love you better. he wants to see you kiss tashi, kiss patrick, see you allow yourself to be consumed. and then he wants you to come to him and sink into his arms and onto his cock and look into his eyes and tell him you love him, so he can moan the words back into your mouth.

but he can't. because you left him.

#ask #what should this au be called #failmarriage au #LMAO

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fairiewonu · 11 hours

Text

roommate! wonwoo

18+ only!

summary: wonwoo finds your vibrator in the bathroom

warnings: smut, use of a vibrator, reader has a vulva

a/n: my mind has just been wonwoo wonwoo wonwoo wonwoo since maestro released. (it’s been wonwoo wonwoo wonwoo since 2020 honestly)

i've been thinking a lot recently about roommate!wonwoo who you're not super close with. you met him through your mutual friend mingyu, and both of you were looking for a roommate. basically, you’re living together because it's cheap and he seemed nice enough.

you’ve talked with him here and there, and have gotten to know him a little bit. he goes to your college and everyone loves him but he’s sort of quiet and keeps to himself. he likes cats and ordering takeout and if you get home late at night you’ll sometimes find him fucking someone into the couch cushions (he apologized profusely, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset. you think about him whenever you’re in your room, your vibrator on the lowest setting so as to not wake him up).

you like to take advantage of the time you have when he’s not around, so whenever he's not home you like to take a bath with good music and your vibrator. although one day you had forgotten your vibrator in the bath and didn't realize until wonwoo had gotten home. you were in your room, still getting dressed when you heard the bathroom door shut across the hall and the shower head turn on.

you weren’t sure whether to run to the bathroom and try and get it before wonwoo saw (you know it's too late) or to act oblivious and pretend everything was normal when he came out. except when you choose the latter, wonwoo left the bathroom with just his towel wrapped loosely around his hips, and headed straight to your room.

"i think you forgot something," he said simply, holding up your vibrator with a smirk. he was leaning against your doorframe as you sat at your vanity, trying to look natural. the mortified expression on your face, however, gave your facade away.

UGHH and i keep thinking about the different ways this could go. wonwoo being smug and holding this slip up against you to tease you whenever he can. whenever he leaves now, he likes to say something like “have a nice bath.” anything to make your eyes widen and your cheeks burn. this goes on for a few weeks until either you or him break and y’all end up in bed together (or better yet in the bath. wonwoo wants to see how you use your little friend on yourself before he takes it and uses it on you).

or, after going into your room initially to taunt you he could just throw you on your bed and use the vibrator on you right then and there. he knows you’re already needy from using the toy earlier. just the click of the button to turn it on has your body arching towards him. he spends the next hour using the vibrator on you, until it dies. then he just replaces the toy with his hands and eventually, his cock.

wonwoo was grateful for your little mistake. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on pretending that he couldn’t hear you at night, using your vibrator on the lowest setting as if you thought the walls were soundproof. hearing you moan his name one night, getting whinier and whinier to the point where he was sure you knew he could hear you.

he could definitely hear you now, as he pinned you to the bed and slammed his cock in and out of you. you’re begging to cum for the fourth time and wonwoo is reveling in your sounds. he flips you over and presses your face to your pillows, continuing a brutal pace as his hand reaches around you to rub harsh circles on your swollen clit. you’re cumming again not long after, but he’s nowhere near finished with you.

he makes up for lost time that night, keeping you up for hours after until you’re both passed out in your bed. the next day, you wake up to sound of your vibrator turning on. when your eyes open, wonwoo is next to you in bed, already spreading your legs apart.

“i found batteries.”

living with wonwoo was starting to have many more perks aside from cheapness and convenience.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen drabbles #svt drabbles #svt x reader #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo imagines #mads thoughts 💭

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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 days

Text

In A While...

Summary: Spencer Reid x Fe!Reader -> You were first introduced to Spencer through Emily, however, six years later, it seems some things are beginning to change.

Disclaimer: This is part one. A lot of pining, fluff and a little angst to come. Part two here. Not proof read.

Before…

“Who is that?”

“Who’s who? Oh.”

“Baby girl, do you know-”

“No, but, oh. She’s cute. Hey, do you think-”

“Hey, guys. What’s going on?”

“You know her?”

Emily’s face lit up. “Actually, I do.”

Emily had called out your name, and when you looked up, you’d gone from looking a little lost and a little intimidated to bright and confident.

“Emily.”

Emily hugged you tightly and began asking questions about your journey to the office when more people gathered around her, leaving you to assume they were her teammates she always talked about.

“Oh, right. Yes, this is Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, JJ you’ve met, and…where’s Reid?”

“I’m here.”

That was the very first day you met him.

From behind Morgan, Reid stopped in his tracks and was introduced to you. The little sister of one of Emily’s friends. You’d applied for a small internship role at the Bureau. But once Emily caught wind of your name going through the servers, she asked Hotch if you could be placed with them.

It would only be for two weeks and you had enough experience already with research which allowed you to help consult on cases with Garcia by your side.

Once Hotch had finally made his introductions, you were thrown into the deep end.

And, for the most part, it was smooth sailing.

Your small background in linguistics helped on a case in Georgia, you’d made fast friends with Penelope who, within the first half an hour of meeting you, wanted to adopt you. And the team really seemed to like you, and best of all, you liked them.

You also, despite your forced effort to shut it down, began to develop a small crush on one Doctor Spencer Reid.

Granted, it didn’t go anywhere. After all, it was just a small crush. But it was nice to have his friendship.

He was only three years older than you, so it made things easier.

Everyone else, like Emily, was close to being ten years older than you, save for JJ and Spencer.

“So, how do you know Emily?”

“She’s my sister’s best friend,” you replied. “They were in the same year at College. I was just the little sister, but they made me feel welcome. Less shut out despite the age gap.”

“Is that how you found this job?” Penelope asked you.

“Sorta. It wasn’t nepotism or anything like that,” you quickly jumped to explain. “I- there was a posting for applicants. Emily didn’t even know until she called me up and asked me because she saw my name go through one of the servers. She knew before I did that I had been accepted but, instead of catching a train into DC every day, she helped me find a posting here.”

“Well, I’m glad. We need more girls around here.”

You smiled at Penelope’s comment, soaking in the moment before a call came through from Hotch.

After the two weeks had finished, you returned back to College, but not before you had one final drink with the team. However, research for your Master’s still called.

“No, no, no, please, please stay.”

“I can’t,” you smiled as Emily tried to drag you closer to the bar.

“I will call you in the morning, but right now I need to finish up some research.”

Emily groaned. “Fine, but let me go with you.”

“No, Em, you’re having fun.”

“I can’t let you go alone.”

“I can go with her.”

From behind you, Spencer appeared.

“No, it’s-”

“Please, it’s my pleasure.”

Emily smiled when you looked back at her. “Thank you, Reid.”

Spencer just smiled.

Emily hugged you, but you were the last to let go. “Have fun.”

“Not a word.” you told her.

“About what?” she pretended.

That night, Spencer walked you home. And you both just talked. About anything and everything. He rattled off statistics about the amount of people that walk home, vs drive and catch the train. He asked you about your Masters and you told him. He even gave you some book recommendations which you checked out from the library the very next day. And you asked him about the love for his job which, by the time you reached your apartment, he told you;

“You should apply.”

“For what?”

“To be an Agent. I think you’d be really good.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Aside from your resume?” Spencer thought for a moment. “It just…seems to suit you.”

For the rest of the night, you tried to imagine your life from the past two weeks, being the rest of it.

And it didn’t seem all that bad of an idea.

Six years later…

You’d been, officially, SA Dr. Y/n Y/l/n of the BAU for four months. Before that, you had worked within the State Department for three years since your knowledge in languages was helpful for their investigations, and before that, you were placed from post to post, helping agents with their cases, mostly in and around the East Coast.

And the minute you walked into the building, it oddly felt like coming home.

You’d lived in Virginia most of your life, but working with the BAU…felt like home.

This was also helped by the fact that Emily had decided to come to town for a visit, even if it wasn’t for long.

“Oh my god, Emily, Hi.”

“Penelope,” Emily smiled before hugging her.

“I really am really happy to see you but right now…”

“We’ve got a case?” you asked.

“Big one.”

“I guess I’ll catch you later, then?” Emily asked.

“Or you could consult?”

As if appearing out of thin air, you all turned to find Hotch stood behind her.

“We’re always welcome to have you on the team, Emily. Even if it’s just as a consultant.”

Penelope had a badge for her by the time you’d all made it into the briefing room.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Emily replied before pinning it to her shirt.

“We have a case…”

Penelope went on to explain the case and within twenty minutes, the wheels were up. You had taken your seat next to Rossi, and across from Spencer. And even though she was paying attention to the case, Emily couldn’t help but notice the small look in Spencer’s eyes every time you looked at each other.

She also knew that look meant more than what Spencer’s brain was willing to admit.

And it only continued to happen.

Three days later, Emily watched yourself and Spencer dance around each other, like you knew each other’s every move.

You both stood in front of the evidence board, moving things around as you talked about the case, working out the geo-file. And every time you stood back, Emily could have sworn she saw Spencer’s eyes glow when looking at you. She also didn’t fail to notice the double glances you passed each other, just a few seconds away from catching each other in the act.

Emily had always known you had a small crush on Spencer. Even from the first day you met. The fact you could barely look at him for the first four days was her biggest sign. But when she’d asked JJ about you two when you’d officially joined the team, it seemed like…nothing.

You’d both just become…friends.

Nothing more.

But Emily couldn’t be the only one to see it.

So when Derek snuck up on her as she watched the both of you, it gave her some confirmation to her doubts that ‘friendship’ was all that was between yourself and Spencer.

“They’ve practically been glued at the hip.”

“Clearly.” Emily stated. “They seem to be in sync with one another.”

“Been like that since her first day.” Derek explained. “Now they don’t even have to talk. They just…know.”

“And nothing ever…”

“No.”

“Hey, guys?” Spencer called out. “We might have something.”

You went on to explain what you had found with Spencer’s help.

However, by the end of the case, Emily finally got the answer she was looking for.

Spencer trailed your every move with his eyes as you unbuckled your belt, stood and grabbed a snack and drink for yourself and JJ.

“Hey, Reid?”

He snapped his attention to Emily who was sitting across from him.

“If you want to ask her, she might just say yes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And he turned back to his book.

“Hey, Spencer?” Emily placed a finger on the top of his book and pushed it down. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

Emily waited for him to continue.

“I…I know that we’re friends but recently I’ve just felt…different. And I can’t even remember when it started. All I know is one day we’re walking back from a coffee shop, and the next…”

“You can’t take your eyes off of her?”

Spencer felt slightly embarrassed, but nodded all the same.

“I know something has changed, but I don’t know when or even how. But I know it’s changed and…it’s different, and I don’t hate it, but I also can’t seem to make sense of it.”

“Do you think she feels the same way?”

That was a question Spencer had been asking himself for weeks. “I don’t know.”

“Have you thought of asking her?”

“What if she says no? I like her but…”

“You don’t want to lose her.”

Spencer shook his head. And then his eyes found you again as you walked back to JJ and handed her her drink and bag of chips before sitting down beside her with your own.

He’d lived his entire adult life as an FBI agent and somehow the prospect of his feelings for you and the potential chance of losing you was the scariest thing he’d ever witnessed.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fe!reader #spencer reid x bau!agent #bau #agent #fbi #fbi agent #fluff #angst #friends to lovers #slow burn #kinda #criminal minds #emily prentiss #spencer reid fluff #part one

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thewritetofreespeech · 13 hours

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hello. I read your bg3 marriage headcanons and was wondering if you could do a follow-up on what their first anniversary would be like? also add rolan, even though he wasn't in the original. only if you want to.

BG3 - 1st Anniversary Headcanons

[original ask in question X]

Gale

What does Gale ‘grand gestures are my love language’ Dekarios have planned for your first anniversary? Oh nothing special.

Just all your favorite meals cooked & ready for you. Starting with breakfast in bed. A small, light picnic at your favorite shoreline spot to watch the tides come in and enjoy the sea air. Ending with a romantic candlelight dinner that would put some of the finest Baldurian restaurants to shame.

He gives you a book of love poems as your present. Paper is traditional for the first anniversary after all. It is furthermore inscribed with his own, original poem on the front cover for you.

Astarion

He actually isn’t aware it’s your anniversary. Until he is reminded by someone. It’s not that it’s not important to him. Astarion has just never celebrated one before. How could he, when none of his previous lovers ever even stayed the whole night?

He has to work fast. But luckily Astarion is extremely clever and resourceful.

Playing it off like it was his plan all along to ‘pretend’ to forget, only for you to be further surprised is simply part of his plan. He plays it off so well that you believe him when he tells you that he got you a new necklace because ‘it reminded him of your eyes’. He makes a mental note to remember next year and be more genuine in his efforts.

A!Astarion

Of course, Astarion remembers the day you officially became his. Body, soul, and now legally.

Part of it may just be the celebration of having something that’s his. He hasn’t had anything for so long that he goes overboard. And with you, his most prized treasure, he can’t help it either.

The day, like all your days, is just about the two of you. He has a portrait commissioned for the two of you and commits to having one done every year, so you remember what you look like & how happy you are together. The old ones are kept in an archive below for safe keeping.

Wyll

He’s been looking forward to this day almost as much as getting married to you, the love of his life.

If he chose to stay in the Gate and become the new Grand Duke Ravengard, Wyll will host a ball so that you can celebrate with all those you hold dear. Old and new friends. He has the bard’s college compose a new song to commemorate the occasion, one that he can lead his partner out to the dance floor with and waltz them around all night.

If he went to Avernus to continue as the Blade, they will waltz together, alone, on the stoney rocks of the Hells. While Wyll hums a private tune between them to keep the music going.

Halsin

Halsin isn’t much for ceremonies or constructs of time. Nature and time move hand-in-hand with one another without making much note of their relationship, and he feels that they should do the same.

But…he can appreciate that something like this should be marked & remembered.

He will make time to get away from his duties as ‘Daddy Halsin’ to be a husband for a while; no matter how short it might be. He carves them a beautiful ornament. Something of a remembrance of their year to hang on a tree by their home. Halsin tells them that he hopes, one day, it will be filled with as many happy memories as leaves. The tree growing as with their love for years to come.

+Rolan

Who has time for such frivolities? Rolan has an acclaimed magic shop & literary archive to run, along with the magical commitments he has as the new caretaker of Ramazith's Tower. Surely, as his partner, they must understand that.

Lia gives him an extremely firm talking to about how selfish and narrow-minded he is being. That it’s not just about him anymore it’s about them.

Though Rolan will never admit that she’s right, he does make it up to his spouse. Apologizing to them for being so callous and making an effort to be more ‘traditionally romantic’. He presents them with a single white rose. Enchanted, so that it will never die, never wilt, and never fade. “It will always be as pure and radiant as my love for you. Should I forget to tell you every day, look upon it and remember. Though, I will try to remember to tell you everyday until my last ones.”

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jeankluv · 3 days

Text

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 13

words: 4,3k

summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as “hate” was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.

Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

ac: _3aem

tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

notes: I wrote down all the events that I want Birdie to have and the fic might end up being 35-40 chapters long. At first I really thought it was going to be just 20 but as I kept writing chapters, more ideas came and we still have a lot unresolved things, so definitely Birdie will take a bit longer. But thank you to everyone who always comments here or ao3, y’all really make me want to keep writing, but also those who leave likes they also help and make me really happy. Also we are over 400 followers what? 😭 thank you so much ❤️

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“In love?” You questioned still resting your head on her legs.

Kyoto nodded with a smile. “Yes. The way you talked about him, it’s not a simple crush, you realize that right?” She asked.

Did you? Your heart accelerated in your chest, what you felt for Satoru was not a crush or that you simply liked him, were you in love with him? You sat on the bed, feeling a little dizzy from the sudden movement. And you took a deep breath.

“I need to talk with him and apologize for my reaction.” You tried to grab your phone but Kyoko took it from you.

“The fact that you’re in love with him, doesn’t mean what he did was right.” You nodded. “So don’t apologize for reacting the way you did, you were hurt and that’s okay. What you both need to do is talk things out and leave your boundaries cleare, that way things can work out.”

“Oh god Kyoko.” You throw yourself at her. “I have never been in love or even in a serious relationship, this is scary.”

She stroked your hair gently. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you will know what to do. But remember, don't apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You slightly laughed. “And tell him, that if I find you once again crying I will kill him.”

“My best protector.” You hugged her.

“You know I am.” She hugged you back. “You were there for me when I was at my lowest and I also want to be always with you and take care of you, because you are my best friend.”

You felt your tears falling down your cheeks. There were not enough words to describe what Kyoko was to you and what it had meant to you that she came into your life. You have changed a lot since you met her and your world has also changed thanks to her. It really was one of the few good things you'd had for a long time, but now, that world of good things was slowly opening up and you just hoped it would keep opening up even more.

You felt your eyes closing little by little and how sleep subtly enveloped you, while you were still hugging Kyoko.

That night you dreamed. You were able to immerse yourself in a clear world, so much so that you could feel it as real. In this landscape, you found yourself on the shores of a calm lake, whose surface shone under the soft caress of the sunlight. A familiar warmth hugged you, it was the comforting embrace of your mother's smile, a beacon of love and security, that you had long lost. And in the midst of this environment, your attention was focused on a figure kneeling near you, holding with tender care a wounded bird in their hands. The scene unfolded with such clarity and emotion that it seemed more than just a dream, as if it were a memory that your mind had wanted to eliminate from your head.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, you woke up. Doubt lingered in your mind, questioning the difference between reality and a dream. Was it really a product of the dreams or a forgotten fragment of your mind? Although the images in the dream had felt real, you had not been able to see that other person's face clearly. But what was that feeling of anguish that had settled in your chest? Why did you feel so extremely agitated?

“You up?” You heard Kyoko’s sleepy voice talking, she was stretching herself next to you.

“Yeah…” You smiled softly at her. “Thanks.” You whispered.

“Don’t say it.” She sat next to you. “I’m always here for you.” She gave you a small squish in the hand.

You nodded. “And I’m always here for you too.” You carefully rose from the comfort of your bed, feeling the stiffness in your muscles dissipate as you stretched your back. "I should start getting ready, I have class at 10." You commented.

Kyoko curled up under the covers and made a moan of reluctance. "Ugh, I just want to stay home all day." She wailed, burying her face in the pillows. “How about we skip class today?”

But you shook your head resolutely, dismissing the idea. "I have to go. I want to talk to Satoru, and if I don't show up, he might get the wrong idea. Communication is key if we want this relationship to work."

A soft smile appeared on Kyoko's lips as she looked at you in admiration. "I'm proud of you." She murmured, her voice filled with affection. “Let's go have breakfast.” With a sudden burst of energy, she jumped out of bed and took your hand, leading you into the kitchen to start the day with a shared meal.

While Kyoko busied herself preparing breakfast, you grabbed your cell phone and checked your latest notifications. There were no messages from Satoru and you understood that he was giving you the space and time you had requested. You felt grateful for his understanding.

Opening his chat, you took a look at the name you had assigned him and couldn't help but smile at how your relationship had taken a 180 degree turn in such a short time. You didn't want to lose what had just started by simply avoiding a small conversation that could clarify everything.

You to Satoru ✨

Can we talk before class today?

Placing your phone on the table, you welcomed the breakfast Kyoko had prepared for the both of you, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves at the prospect of the impending conversation with Satoru.

Kyoko, noticing the thoughtful expression on your face, asked softly. "Is everything okay?"

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I was just thinking about talking to Satoru before class."

"Oh I see." Kyoko's eyes shone with understanding. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

You nodded again, appreciating Kyoko's supportive words. With every bite of breakfast, you found yourself mentally preparing for the conversation that awaited you. The need for clarity and openness with Satoru felt more pressing than ever.

After finishing breakfast, you organized the dishes together with Kyoko. Turning your head you noticed how the screen of your phone lit up. You nervously picked it up and checked what it was.

Satoru ✨

Alright, if you want I can pick you up.

You bite your thumb, hesitant about what to do, but finally decided to follow what your heart told you.

You to Satoru ✨

Sure, I still need to get ready but see you in 40 minutes?

Satoru ✨

Sure see you

With your heart pinching in your chest you locked the phone and walked back to the room. You leaned against your door and sighed deeply, trying to calm your agitated heart.

You wanted Satoru to get there as soon as possible, you wanted to see him and clarify everything. Your heart was shaking hard thinking about Kyoko's words. It wasn't a simple crush, you were fucking in love with Satoru Gojo and that overwhelmed you in too many ways.

First of all, the idea terrified you, the stories you knew about love never had a happy ending. Your father abandoned your mother when she was pregnant after swearing eternal love, your grandmother was also abandoned by your grandfather after he found another family.

You didn't want to have to suffer that abandonment yourself, you had already been alone too many times, you had lost too many people you loved. You didn't want Satoru to take your heart and somehow break it.

But on the other hand, it was exciting and it filled your heart with complete warmth. And was able to put a smile on your face.

Feeling the weight of fatigue pressing down on your limbs, you backed away from the door and headed towards your closet. As you moved around the room, the warmth of Tokyo spring filtered through the windows. Jackets and long pants gradually were becoming unnecessary as the temperature was starting to rise.

Looking at your reflection in the mirror, a thought crossed your mind, a memory of the time you wore Kyoko's dress and how Satoru had noticed despite your limited interactions. It was a small, seemingly insignificant moment, but it remained in your memory as a testament to Satoru's care. Smiling at the memory, you finished getting ready and waited for Satoru's call to light up your cell phone, now with a black screen.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, your heart raced with anticipation and nerves tightened in your chest. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly until the familiar melody of his phone's ringtone broke the silence, lighting up the room with Satoru's name displayed on the screen: "Satoru ✨.”

“Satoru…” You greeted, your voice betraying a hint of nerves.

"Birdie..." His normally calm and confident voice wavered slightly. "I'm outside. If you're not ready, I can..."

"No." You interrupted. "I am. I'll be there in ten seconds."

"Alright." He murmured softly, the tension was palpable even through the phone.

With a quick exhale, you ended the call and got out of bed, a rush of adrenaline spurring you to get moving. Grabbing your bag, you briefly said goodbye to Kyoko before stepping out into the sunlight. As you walked out the door, your eyes met Satoru's figure leaning casually against his sleek black car, his signature dark sunglasses hiding his gaze.

With each step towards Satoru, something tightened in your chest, making it difficult to swallow the saliva that was building up in your mouth. When he heard your footsteps, Satoru looked up, and at that moment, your eyes met his.

A surge of electricity seemed to run through your entire being as his piercing blue eyes, the ones you loved so much, met yours. It was as if time slowed down, the world around you fading into insignificance as you drowned in the intensity of that shared gaze.

In that fleeting moment, everything else faded away: the sounds of the bustling city, the warmth of the sun on your skin, leaving you alone with Satoru.

When his eyes held yours, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, as if his gaze alone had the power to anchor you in the tumultuous sea of emotions swirling inside you.

“Hey.” He greeted you softly.

“Hi…” You tried to greet him in the same softly way, but somehow your voice came out shaky.

For a moment, silence enveloped them both, interrupted only by the sound of the city of Tokyo getting into motion that spring morning.

Breaking the silence, Satoru pointed towards his car with a subtle nod. "We should …?"

Nodding, you got into the familiar car. As I sat in the car next to him, the engine whirred to life. You pressed your hands against your knees and let out the air accumulated in your lungs.

“Satoru…” You began but your voice was left hanging in the air when Satoru talked.

“I’m sorry…” He began, you saw how he held the wheel stronger than before. “I’m really sorry and I don’t know how to begin this. And I don’t want to make excuses because what I did was unacceptable, I crossed some boundaries that I shouldn’t have crossed and all because I thought I was doing it to help you but the truth is that I only hurt you and invaded your personal space.” He took a small break. “I would understand if you don’t want to talk or even see me again, I’m an asshole and I fucked up badly.”

The car fell silent, his eyes were fixed on the road and yours on his face. “Can you pull over?” You said.

Satoru simply nodded and in silence he pulled over, parking the car in a free space. His eyes were still looking to the front, not looking at you.

“Satoru… could you look at me.” And with puppy eyes he looked at you. “Yeah, what you did wasn’t okay and it hurt me. And I’m glad you know it was wrong and hopefully you don’t make that mistake again.” Satoru nodded in silence. “But…” You paused and looked at him, carefully and feeling the nervousness and shyness take over your body, you held his face. “I don’t want to lose this, I don't want to lose us.” You shyly smiled. “I’m glad you acknowledge what you did wrong but I don’t want this to break up.” His eyes were fixed on you, carefully watching you.

“Are you sure?” He swallowed. “It’s okay if you don’t want to see me again, I can… bare with it.” You smiled seeing his poor intent of lying.

“Could you?” You smiled.

And he shook his head. “I wouldn’t.” He got closer to you and rested his forehead on your shoulder. “Thank you…” He whispered. “I know I’m an asswhole and that I’m annoying and all that.”

“You are my all that.” You smiled, caressing his white hair.

“Let’s skip classes.” He said against your skin. “Let’s go to

“Can I kiss you?” He said looking at your lips and then up at your eyes.

“Yes…” You whispered before feeling the warmth of his lips on yours.

The kiss was a tender hug, soft and delicate, as if Satoru was afraid of breaking you or hurting you. His lips meeting yours with a soft caress, transmitting a silent promise of protection and tenderness. Yet despite the gentle touch, you felt a surge of warmth radiate from within you, filling you with a feeling of fullness you had never known before.

In that moment, you found yourself craving more of his touch, hungry for the warmth of his lips against yours. His hesitation only fueled your desire, igniting a fire within you.

As the kiss deepened, you surrendered to the sensation, losing yourself in the tender embrace of his lips. Every brush of skin against skin sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins, igniting a passion that burned hotter with each passing moment.

You felt alive, consumed by the intoxicating allure of his presence. It was a moment of pure happiness, where time seemed to stop and the world faded away, where it was just the two of you.

You felt an avalanche of emotions cascading through you, a mix of desire, and vulnerability.

When the kiss finally broke, a breathless moment remained between you, your labored breaths mixing together to form one. Satoru's gaze, now softened but full of intensity, reflected the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

With a calming breath, your voice was a mere whisper against the growing sound of your racing heart. "Satoru..."

He met your gaze intently, his eyes searching yours for the words that threatened to leave your lips.

"I want to meet you." You confessed, your voice shaking slightly with vulnerability. "Everything about you."

A slight smile appeared at the corners of Satoru's lips. "And I want to show you." He responded, raising his hand to gently caress your face.

Under his soft touch you closed your eyes and let yourself be caressed, you let yourself be loved for the first time in a long time. He left a small kiss on your lips before turning back to the wheel.

“Let’s go to the beach the day after tomorrow.” Satoru smiled at you and you smiled back at him.

“Why then?” You wondered looking at him.

“Oh I heard the weather will be good then.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay…” You smiled. “It’s a date then?”

“Yeah…” He softly whispered. “Thank you birdie.”

You shook your head and your shoulders. “You need to stop thanking me Satoru. Now let’s go to class.”

Satoru nodded and started the car. With a smile on your lips, you felt your heart beating steadily again, and the cloud that had been lingering in your head disappeared completely. The road became familiar, and soon Satoru parked the car in front of your college.

You hesitated for a second as you got out of the car and walked next to him, but Satoru grabbed your hand with a reassuring smile. You felt everyone's eyes on you and heard the whispers as they commented on the scene unfolding before them. Satoru walked proudly, holding your hand, and didn't let go until you reached your class. That day you weren’t sharing any classes so that was your goodbye spot.

As you approached the classroom door, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll see you after class, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a surge of confidence from his support. "Okay."

He leaned in, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "Good luck in class, birdie."

You watched as he walked away. Turning to enter the classroom, you noticed a few lingering glances and whispers from your classmates, but the warmth of Satoru's presence lingered with you, making it easier to ignore them.

Taking your seat, you focused on the lecture. As you left your first class, you were greeted by the smiling face of Kyoko, who was waiting for you leaning against one of the walls outside your classroom. With a grin, she approached you.

"And well? Have you already spoken?" She asked eagerly, falling into step beside you. "C'mon, tell me!"

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips as you recounted the recent events. "We fixed everything, and in two days, we're going to the beach.” You announced, unable to contain your excitement. "As a date."

Kyoko's eyes widened in excitement, and she let out a delighted squeal, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. "Oh my gosh, that's amazing!" She exclaimed, unable to contain her joy. "I'm so happy for you!"

You couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, feeling grateful to have such a supportive friend by your side. Kyoko kept on jumping around winning the curious eyes of everyone surrounding both of you.

“You know what it means right?” She smirked.

“What?” You said with a funny tone on your voice.

“Double dates!” She made a small dance. “Oh what could we do? We could go to Kyoto or Okinawa during the summer break!”

“A girl works you know?”

“And that girl deserves some vacations you know?” She replied back. “C’mon imagine expending some days in Okinawa, the four of us, on the beach.” She started daydreaming and you rolled your eyes. “I’m sure you want to see your man shirtless and more.”

“Geez Kyoko.” You rolled your eyes.

She laughed and followed your steps. “Sorry, sorry but you know?” You looked at her. “Suguru has his whole arm tattooed, ugh when I tell you that is so sexy, when he is without...”

“Please Kyoko, I don't want any more information about your private relationship with Suguru.”

“Okay, I will stop.” She laughed. “But hey!” You looked at her from over your shoulder. “I’m so happy for you.”

“And I’m happy for you.” You smiled back at her.

“Can’t believe we used to think they were dating.” Kyoko recalled the time when you both thought Satoru and Suguru were dating and you chuckled at it.

Satoru Gojo POV

“Did you fix it?” Shoko raised her eyebrow.

“I did, we are good okay?” He sighed. “I won’t fuck things up like that again.”

“Well done man.” Suguru raised his thumb nodding his head. “So what now?” He raised his eyebrows while taking a sip of his tea.

“We are going on a date in two days.” Satoru smiled with confidence.

“Are you planning on asking her to be your girlfriend?” Shoko questioned.

“I… I guess so.” He shrugged.

Shoko looked at Satoru and then at Suguru. “What’s up with him?”

Suguru shook his head with a smile. “He has never done that before.”

“What?” Shoko gasped surprised. “But I have seen you dating before.”

“Yeah, but it was different. We hung around, had fun and I guess we assumed we were in a relationship.” Satoru moved his hands around, trying to explain himself. “But I never sat down and asked anyone to date.”

“And you are nervous.” Shoko mischievously smiled. “Oh my god!” She laughed. “The great Satoru Gojo is nervous.”

“Shoko shut up.” He said embarrassed.

“No, no, I really like this.” She laughed. “Oh god I’m so happy to see this side of you.”

“Shoko enough.” Suguru laughed.

“Suguru admit it, you are also loving it.” She smirked.

“Don’t Suguru.” He warned him.

“I have to say it, I like seeing this side of you.” Suguru laughed alongside his friend.

“You know, I hate both of you.” Satoru stood up. “You.” He pointed at Suguru. “We have practice so get your ass up if you don’t want to get scolded.”

Suguru chuckled and stood up. “See you Shoko.”

“See ya!” Shoko waved her hand at her two friends.

Satoru and Suguru walked side by side. With their training backpacks slung over their shoulders, Satoru and Suguru took giant steps towards the basketball court. The familiar, slightly musty smell of the gym greeted them as they entered, a nostalgic reminder of the countless hours they spent training there. The freshmen were already working hard, performing exercises as Coach Yaga's booming voice echoed through the space, urging them to try harder.

Satoru and Suguru exchanged amused glances, their eyes reflecting shared memories of their own experiences as freshmen. They remembered well the intense sessions and the coach's unwavering expectations.

"It seems like yesterday we were the ones who were yelled at." Satoru reflected, with a smile on his lips.

"Yeah." Suguru agreed, chuckling. “Coach Yaga hasn’t changed in the slightest. He's still as intense as ever."

As they walked towards the court, Yuji greeted them, putting aside his training, earning a shout from the coach.

Coach Yaga turned his head and saw them. "Gojo, Geto, stop standing there and get to work! Warm up with the others!"

Satoru waved playfully, earning a quizzical look from the trainer, and joined the exercises with Suguru at his side.

“Captain Gojo!” A voice resounded in the distance.

Satoru looked up to see Haibara's figure running towards him, followed closely by Nanami. Upon reaching them, Haibara knelt before Satoru, his expression serious and apologetic.

"I'm so sorry if by not keeping my mouth shut I've ruined your relationship, Captain Gojo!" Haibara blurred, his voice filled with remorse.

Satoru looked embarrassed to the side of him, looking at Suguru, who was trying to suppress a laugh. "Haibara, please get up." Satoru said, his tone soft but firm.

Haibara did as Satoru asked, slowly getting up but still looking worried.

"Nothing has happened." He tried to calm him down, Satoru. "And in any case, it would be my fault if the relationship had gone sour. Birdie and I worked it out." I gave Haibara a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “The truth is, you did well Haibara. I'm sorry for putting you in that situation.” This time it was Satoru who bowed slightly.

Haibara smiled at Satoru. “It’s okay captain, I’m glad you two fixed everything.”

“So you and the girl you were with the other day at the club are finally dating?” Yuji exclaimed. “Oh she was really nice and funny.”

Satoru caught a bit trying to keep himself calm. “Not yet.” Satoru murmured.

“Oh but they were really nicely kissing and holding hands after getting out of the car.” A voice spoke.

Satoru rolled his eyes upon recognizing the voice and looked at him indifferently. “Sukuna, why do you care about what I do?”

Sukuna laughed as he approached the group. “Excuse me Gojo, it's hard not to see you.”

Satoru sighed and rested his hand on his hip. "What are you doing here? "It's been more than a year since he expelled you from the club."

“Can't I come see my favorite nephew?” He tilted his head, directing his gaze to Yuji.

Yuji rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want to see you here.”

“Neither did I want to come here brat, but your father called me and told me to hang you this.” He said throwing him a bag. “Anyways Gojo is good to see you.” He smirked leaving the group.

“Sometimes I wonder how you two are family.” Yuta mumbled.

“Don’t remind me.” Yuji protested. “He is my uncle but we are so close in age that sometimes he is like an annoying older brother.”

"Yuji, do you know if Sukuna has played on any team again?" Satoru asked, still staring at the door where he had left.

Yuji shook his shoulders. “I think so, but I'm not sure. He never tells me anything.”

“Captain, are you worried that Sukuna has been signed to another team?” Megumi asked.

“A little, little he cared about the sanction they gave him last year when he broke Kamo’s fingers from Kyoto college.” Satoru sighed and looked at Suguru. “I'm afraid he won't care again and this time he'll do something to one of the team.”

“He probably still has a lot of resentment from last year.” Suguru remembered this time and Satoru nodded heavily.

“Well…” Satoru stretched himself. “We will handle it once it comes, right?” He smiled. “Besides, we are the best. There is nothing to worry about.”

Suguru chuckled and shook his head. "You're right. Now let's train guys." He said he and everyone got moving.

But Satoru stayed in his place still feeling a little anguish in his stomach. Shaking his head, he walked onto the basketball court and began training with the rest of his teammates.

Final notes: Birdie and Satoru fixing everything, bc communication is the key. It always frustrates me when I read in a book or a series how things get complicated between the characters due to lack of communication, that's why I didn't want to prolong the small conflict between them and have them fix things like adults, talking.

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yuus-sentient-teddy · 1 day

Text

While stuff is going down on Sage's Island, what's happening with some of the families of the NRC students?

S.T.Y.X. probably had to be the ones to tell the families the situation. Even though they explain it as lightly as possible so that there's no major panic, that won't stop the families from worrying.

I thought about Deuce's mom after Malleus casted the spell, when Deuce hasn't called her to talk about his day. Her intuition is telling her that something is amiss, but she tries to brush it off even though Deuce has never missed a call.

She sends a good morning text the following day.

She tries calling him an hour later when there's no response. What if he got sick and that's why he hasn't said anything?

But the call immediately goes to voicemail.

Okay, don't panic. She's sure her son must have forgotten to charge his phone (unlikely, a part of her says) or maybe he's deep asleep from being sick.

Dila debates on whether to call the school. She doesn't want to be overprotective or overbearing. . . and yet her mother's intuition is still screaming at her that something isn't right.

It wouldn't hurt to just be sure, right?

Dila's heart sinks when the call to the school immediately goes to voicemail.

The next chance she gets, Dila drives to the Trappola residence. She starts to feel a little ridiculous when Mrs. Trappola answers the door without a single bit of worry. What if it's nothing? But she still asks if Mrs. Trappola has heard from her son.

Mrs. Trappola shakes her head. "No, but he usually talks with his brother a lot. What's up?"

Dila explains how her son hasn't called or texted her and that the call to the school was unsuccessful. "Hmmm... it could be your phone. Let me try calling."

But the same thing happens--the school doesn't pick up. Dila notices something she missed in the beginning: Mrs. Trappola's stiffness beneath a casual mask. Does Mrs. Trappola also feel like something is wrong?

"Hang on, let me try calling his brother."

He's casual when he picks up and tells his mom that Ace hadn't called him last night. But there is a bit of trepidation when he asks, "Is something going on?"

"No, just checking. I'll call you later." Mrs. Trappola lets out a breath and meets Dila's eyes. Both mothers recognize the look in the other's eyes.

"Do you know Clover Bakery?" Dila asks. "Deuce told me that the son of the family who runs it is in the same dorm as him and Ace."

Mrs. Trappola nods. "Ace mentioned him a few times. Trey."

"I'm going to go over there. Want to come with?"

"Give me a second to get my stuff."

Two worried mothers become three, and they're all sitting around a table in the back of the bakery while a father is with the employees at the front. At this point, it's clear that something has happened to their sons and the school.

The three discuss what to do next. Should they try calling the school again? Reach out to the police station? To another family? How about contacting that Diamond kid's family?

But why stop at this part of the world?

Perhaps a while after the sleeping spell is cast, a little heir is wandering the streets pouting because no one is telling him what is going on.

Something has happened to his uncle, that he knows, but he doesn't know just exactly what.

This little heir may bump into an older woman, a grandmother, who asks why he's wandering around on his own so late in the day. He almost cries in frustration while telling her about the adults not telling him anything about his uncle. He lets slip that his uncle goes to Night Raven College.

That makes the grandmother pause, the uneasy feeling inside of her making itself known once again.

She tells the child that his family might be worried about him and eventually persuades him that going home would be a good idea. She escorts him out of the slums, listening to him talk about his uncle, until some guards find the two.

Before the guards escort the little prince back home, the grandmother asks about Night Raven College. Her grandson is a student there and in the same dorm as Leona Kingscholar. The guards reply with an apology and that they have not heard of an incident at the school.

But she stops them. Surely, they must have heard of something. She doesn't miss the fleeting look in one of the guards' eyes--perhaps that woman has a child who goes there too?

That guard tells her partner to go on ahead, and once the prince and his guard are far enough, she tells the grandmother that all communication to the school and Leona--even to anywhere on the island--have been unsuccessful. Other ways of communicating are being sought, but the guard is bracing for the worse.

She tells the grandmother that if she hears anything, she'll come find her.

The parents of four families congregate in Clover Bakery before it opens. It's clear that no one has gotten much sleep. Cups of coffee are handed out as they all take a seat in the bakery's main area.

"Any word?"

"No."

"Actually," Mrs. Trappola says, "my eldest told me that his friend on the Land of Dawning was given an evacuation order alongside every single citizen there."

". . . The entire land?" Mrs. Clover says faintly, disbelieved.

"The entire land." The weight of the words is heavy and they all silently contemplate what the evacuation could mean.

"Doesn't the heir of Briar Valley also go to the school?" Mrs. Diamond asks. "It's possible he might be keeping everyone safe. Plus--" she fixes a bright smile on her face--"our boys have survived two Overblots. What's one more?"

"There's also a magicless student who goes to the school," Mrs. Trappola says. "I heard from Ace that they've gone through multiple Overblots and survived without so much a scratch. If they can stay standing after that kind of disaster, then this should be nothing for them."

". . . I'm sorry, did you say multiple?"

The bell above the door chimes. In steps none other than Mrs. Rosehearts and a man who seems smaller in her presence. It's not missed the way the woman stands stiffly, and in the corner of Dila's eye, she sees Mr. and Mrs. Clover sitting up straighter.

"Is there anything we can help you with?" Mrs. Clover asks. Dila hears a little tremble in her voice as she tries to sound neutral. She meets Mrs. Diamond's eyes across the way and the two share the same thought: there's a strained history between the Rosehearts and Clovers.

That is when Dila remembers a phone call with Deuce early in the school year--Riddle and Trey's past and Riddle's Overblot.

Mrs. Rosehearts takes a deep breath and lets it out in a half-huff. It seems like she's fighting with her pride. "Yes. Have you heard from the school or your sons?"

"No. None of us have."

Mr. Clover gestures to the chairs. "Have a seat."

The man accompanying Mrs. Rosehearts, Mr. Rosehearts, accepts the invitation. However, halfway sitting down, he notices his wife is still standing. "I'm fine. This shouldn't take long," she says.

He blinks, then fully sits. "So, uh, what have we missed?" he asks.

After the two are filled in, Mr. Rosehearts nods sadly while Mrs. Rosehearts's scowl deepens. "So there's nothing." She almost spits out the last word.

"What about you? Have you tried anything?" Mrs. Diamond asks calmly, like the two were acquaintances.

"Of course I have! But nothing worked!" Mrs. Rosehearts shuts her eyes, tightens her grip on her handbag, and tries to calm down from the outburst.

"We both tried calling people we knew on the island, but our calls kept bouncing," Mr. Rosehearts supplies. "I heard about the Land of Dawning evacuation from a friend of mine. They also said that S.T.Y.X. was the one issuing it."

"S.T.Y.X?!" the room explodes.

"They're only involved if there's an Overblot. So does that mean. . . ?" Mr. Clover doesn't dare finish the sentence.

"But what kind of Overblot causes an entire island to be shut down and another island to evacuate?" Dila asks.

"One that can be caused by a powerful mage," Mrs. Trappola softly says.

The room is once again blanketed by horrified and tense silence. Thoughts return to what Mrs. Diamond said earlier. Doesn't the heir of Briar Valley also go to the school?

Mrs. Rosehearts suddenly spins around and marches to the door.

"Where are you going?" her husband asks.

"To the emissary. I will not sit idly and ponder useless things with useless outcomes while my son is in potential danger."

She's halfway through the door when her and everyone's phones go off simultaneously, creating a cacophony of text notification sounds. They're whipped out and Dila holds her breath as she opens the text application.

. . .

Mr. Clover takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. Mr. Diamond runs a hand through his hair. And Mr. Trappola and Mr. Rosehearts can't stop staring at the message on his phone.

It felt good finally having a confirmation that something was amiss and knowing that a major organization was handling it. At the same, however, it left longing for more information.

"What about my son?!" Mrs. Rosehearts's demand to know her son's well-being felt like a reflection of what the other parents were feeling inside. Anger, worry, helplessness.

Mrs. Clover sits back in her chair with a distant, worried gaze. Mrs. Diamond leans on her husband's shoulder. Mrs. Trappola rubs her face. Mrs. Rosehearts slams the door as she leaves the bakery.

After a few attempts, Dila finally opens the internet application. It brings her to a news article from a while ago, written by a Sage's Island reporter, and at the very top is a picture of her son performing in the Star Sending Ceremony. She can't stop staring at it. What if she never sees him again?

"Deuce. . ."

Meanwhile, in Sunset Savannah, a little prince runs down a street. His head turns wildly, searching for a certain face. Anyone outside pause to stare at him, no doubt curious as to why the heir is here in this neighborhood of all places. He finally spots her leaving a run-down home and sprints the rest of the way.

The grandmother hears him before she sees him. He slows to a stop before her and is panting as he says, "I know what's happening! The island is shut down and some sticks are fixing it!"

"'Some sticks'?" she repeats, puzzled.

He nods feverishly. "Yeah! That's what I heard."

She assumes it's magic-related. "What about the island? Did you hear why it is shut down?"

He goes to answer, but pauses. "Um... I didn't," he says bashfully.

She's disappointed, but doesn't let that show. "That's all right. Thank you for telling me about what you heard."

"Prince Cheka!" Marching down the street is the guard from yesterday. The little prince's ears press down. "Please, notify any of us when you plan to leave the palace," she says, though it sounds more like scolding.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to let grandmother know about the school."

The guard sighs. "Your parents have already been told and they expect you back soon. I will stand guard beside the house. Let me know when you are ready to return."

"Can you tell grandmother what you know?" Cheka asks. "I saw you talking to her yesterday."

The guard, beneath the stoic exterior, had been impatient to tell the grandmother. "Very well."

She relays the message she, a couple of the other guards, and the queen received. An incident on Sage's Island. . . All travel to Sage's Island and the Land of Dawn are prohibited. . . S.T.Y.X. is currently handling the situation and will notify when the situation has been resolved.

"I am sorry I can't give you more information," the guard says.

Grandma Bucchi shakes her head. "You've given me enough."

She makes her way to a cracked chair and tries not to fall back on it as she sits. "Are you okay?" Cheka asks, approaching as the guard readies herself to help.

"I'm all right," she half lies. She prays to the stars of the coming night that nothing is happening to Ruggie. She already lost her daughter-in-law and son; she cannot lose her grandson.

"He'll figure out a way to survive. He's resourceful," she says, partly as a reminder to herself.

"My uncle might be helping him. They might be helping each other, like the King of Beasts and the hyenas!" Cheka says, brightening.

Grandma Bucchi knows the story well--everyone in Sunset Savannah does. It came to mind when Ruggie told her about his working relationship with Leona, and the thought wasn't lost on Ruggie either.

Perhaps they are helping each other through the danger that has taken hold of the island. "It is possible. My grandson is in the same dorm as your uncle."

A/N: I have been dying to share this with ya'll for a couple of weeks. I also kind of oneshot this XD

#dila spade #mama spades #ace trappola's mom #ace trappola's dad #trey clover's mom #trey clover's dad #riddle rosehearts's mom #riddle roseheart's dad #mama rosehearts #cheka kingscholar #grandma bucchi #anippola #deuce spade's mom #cater diamond's mom #cater diamond's dad #btw the guard who talks with Grandma Bucchi is no one in particular--she just suddenly appeared and I went YES #twst angst #twisted wonderland

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