#I did not schedule this for the right time oops

[wacky-theater-kids]

my spice son…

[keferon]

Chapter 3 of Blurr’s storyline in Mecha AU!

Previous chapter

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers.

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Under the cut⤵️

——————————————————

It's Swindle's birthday.

He thinks it is.

He's pretty sure.

Since he was taken into the program, it's always hard to tell. It's like time flows differently here. He had a calendar, but Brawl put it somewhere a while ago and then forgot where it was. And they're not allowed to have phones yet. Though Swindle assumes Onslaught managed to steal one from someone anyway.

Shit. Where's the calendar?

Swindle remembers the date, but can't remember the month.

There's a strange static tingling sensation in the back of his head. If he turns his head too fast, it'll grow into an unpleasant pricking pain.

The last time in the lab was disgusting.

He can't remember what month it is. He's not even sure why it bothers him so much. Not that birthdays mean anything within the walls of the program.

He stops in the middle of the living room and looks around with a meticulous eye. He's already checked the beds, desk, and nightstands...hah.

“Hey have any of you seen my calendar?”

Vortex, sitting on top of the bunk bed shakes the ash off his cigarette right down into Blast Off's lap.

“Nope.”

“TEX YOU'RE LITTERING ON MY BED.”

“I could have ..torn it up” offers Brawl from across the room.

Swindle turns on his heels and angrily rests his arms at his sides.

“You tore it?”

“I might have,” Brawl scratches the back of his head.

Swindle pinches the bridge of his nose

That's fine. Not that he cares that much. Not that any celebration at all would save the crappy day.

He has some new “experimental” medical procedure scheduled for later, which generally means suffering. Or if he's lucky, some critter will attack the city and instead of squirming on the slab, he'll have to go cuddle with huge nasty beasts. Which is slightly better than the actual procedures. He'd like that to happen. If only his head would also stop buzzing....

“Happy birthday to me” Swindle thinks, sticking his Mech hand under the plates of a particularly ugly monster and pulling something disgustingly oozing green blood out of there. He can see the faces of the random gawkers who didn't have time to evacuate. Ooh, some of them got that nasty stuff on their faces. Swindle has no time to feel sorry for them.

The monster did attack, but it's entirely possible that this monster ended the last meager supply of luck Swindle had. Because somewhere. Something. In his head begins to hurt again and the world in front of his eyes begins to slowly blur and..

ahh FUCK….

The monster grabs him knocks him to the ground and Swindle can literally feel in his bones that something's wrong, but the data from his Mech doesn't give him any useful information. Which isn't that uncommon. These things are glitchy as hell and aren't designed to recognize anything but the most basic popular malfunctions.

The word “error” shines mockingly in his face. Blurring in his eyes and reflecting in red on his uniform.

Error, error, what the hell is this error. He needs to know what's wrong so he doesn't accidentally kill himself, but all this bucket offers him is oops. You're in trouble teeheee~

He can hear the sound of Blast Off's giant cannon in the distance. And the loud rumble where Vortex and Onslaught are trying to get out of the ring of monsters.

His Mech is unresponsive. His damn machine refuses to move and Swindle isn't quite sure if it's the Mech that's the problem, because his head feels like a piece of raw rotten meat and maybe the error meant that what's broken is him.

The monster leans over him, trying to rip off whatever it can rip off and thank god this thing apparently isn't smart enough to realize that the Mech is controlled from the head because it's aiming straight for his chest.

He needs to get out. If he can't get this thing to move, he needs to get the fuck out of it before the alien gets him.

He manages to open the emergency hatch and quietly slip out and ohhhh the world is spinning, this is not bloody good.

He manages to take a few steps before a loud B A N G comes from somewhere above and IS THAT A TRAIN???? Who in their right mind would think of using a fucking train as a throwing weapon???? Is that Brawl? It's got to be Brawl. Oh, Swindle is so gonna kill him.

Because (sadly) in addition to the monster, the train and Swindle, there's also physics involved in this circus.

So while the monster is effectively brought to rest and knocked sideways with a hole in it’s head, the train stops its forward motion and starts its downward motion.

Right onto Swindle's head.

He just has time to think that dying from a train falling out of the sky is a pretty creative death. His legs are shaking, his head is buzzing and he only manages to take half a sluggish step in an attempt to avoid the inevitable when a loud “MOVE” comes to his ears and something yanks him to the side.

The tug sends fire down his spine and head. The ensuing landing reverberates with pain in his shoulder and sides. He barely has time to process the first two sensations until a moment later he hears a rumble so deafening that he thinks his eardrums are about to burst.

Swindle props himself up on his elbows and hisses in pain as the movement causes the back of his head to sting.

“Ah I'll fuckin' kill him...”

A voice comes above him

“Ouw dude. You okay?”

There's.. Some teenager hovering over him. And behind him is lying...the wrecked train...right where Swindle himself was standing a second ago.

The strange teen frowns worriedly and pulls Swindle upright and drags him somewhere else

“Come on, it's best not to be in the open during monster attacks”

“Ah” thinks Swindle ”right. Without Mech you're a pathetic tiny piece of chop begging to be stomped on by Brawl.”

He tries to focus on balance so he doesn't hang too much on this kid.

They find the nearest unlocked door, which turns out to be the entrance to an underground bar.

“So” says the stranger, letting go of Swindle and shaking the dust off his hair ” You're a pilot! That's so cool, but you're kinda small for a pilot.”

Swindle sighs sullenly.

“I'll let you have that one comment about my height because you helped me, but next time you're dead.”

“Helped? I saved your ass.”

“Helped a lot” says Swindle grudgingly. “Thanks.”

The teen laughs and climbs into the bar. It's a mess everywhere, people clearly evacuated in a hurry and threw everything in haste.

“What's your name? Oh, or, wait. Do you guys use code names? I've heard pilots call each other by call signs, but half the time those call signs sound so dumb, I don't see how they can respond to that.”

He waits for the kid to cut off his flow of words to take a breath. Man, what a chatty boy.

“You can call me Swindle.”

“Kay” the kid pulls out a couple glasses ”I'm Blurr. Would you like something Swindle? I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good at mixing cocktails.”

Swindle looks around the room suspiciously. The bar, even though it's underground, looks pretty good. Too good, in fact. The place is clearly not for the poor.

He walks over to the bar and climbs onto a bar stool. There's no one else in here but them, but the electricity is on so he doesn't doubt for a second that they're being filmed by a security camera right now. Maybe a few even.

Blurr throws him an expectant look.

Swindle pretends to go through his pockets. As if there could be money in them out of nowhere. Then he makes a comically confused face and spreads his hands.

“Oh, no, I think I left my millions at home. What's the cheapest thing you have?”

Blurr snorts.

“Ice is free.”

“I'll take the ice then” nods Swindle.

There is a loud rumbling sound above them. It must be Vortex having fun again bouncing on the aliens that have fallen to the ground, crushing their heads.

Swindle is just. He takes off his helmet, takes a glass of ice and presses it to his head enjoying the way the nasty buzzing recedes.

Blurr waits for the rumbling to recede before speaking again.

“But really. You're a pilot but...uh. Are you even old enough to drink?”

Swindle sends him his best grumpy look. It's not exactly a joke about his height, but it's damn close.

“Are you old enough to pour?”

“Sure,” says Blurr too fast for it to be true. If Swindle had to guess, he'd say the guy in front of him is no older than seventeen. The tattered jeans and the T-shirt with the F1 logo printed on it definitely don't help. And, hey, those headphones look very expensive. So do the sneakers. Kid's clearly from a wealthy family.

Blurr pulls out a bottle of syrup from somewhere and pours it straight into his mouth. Doesn't miss, which is amusing. Doesn't wince, which is frankly impressive. Swindle feels the unbearable sweetness just looking at him.

It suddenly hits him

“Hey, do you have a phone?”

“Sure,” Blurr pours himself more syrup. Swindle twitches.

“What's the day today?”

Blurr's mouth is full of an unimaginable amount of sugar, so he just pulls out his phone and turns its screen toward Swindle and oh...oh. He was wrong about the date. And the month, too. It's not his birthday. His birthday was a week ago...

Does that mean he must be nineteen now? Yeah, that makes him nineteen.

Blurr takes the phone back and slips it into his pocket.

“Your face looks funny.”

“I just realized it's my birthday today,” smiles Swindle.

“Oooooooohh~~~” rejoices Blurr ”Congratulations! It's kind of poetic that you almost died just today. Can you imagine how funny the numbers on your tombstone would have looked.”

Swindle chokes on air.

“That's certainly a very appropriate comment, thank you...”

“Sorry haha said without thinking.” Blurr reaches under the counter again and pulls out a bottle from there “Hey, they have more syrups!”

There's another loud rumble from upstairs.

Blurr presses his head into his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling as if hoping to see something through it.

Swindle puts his elbows and head on the tabletop

“Don't worry, it's just Brawl.”

Blurr doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling

“ You can tell that by the sound of falling concrete?”

Swindle lazily dangles his feet. The chair is high and even the toes of his shoes don't reach the floor.

“Brawl is the loudest. And the heaviest, too. He's always crashing into everything, throwing things and breaking things too. You can hear him a mile away.”

He pauses to listen

“And that kch-ooooooooomm is Blast Off's cannon. It's some super rare experimentally advanced one, so it sounds like something out of a space movie. He couldn't stop bragging about it for half a year when he got it.”

Blurr chuckles and leans his elbows on the counter, relaxing.

“ And this...uh...what's this?”

“That's Vortex, he's our local lunatic. Best not to listen too much to what he does, it's almost always disgusting in ways you would never even consider.”

Blurr makes a disgruntled face and is silent for a couple minutes.

“It's weird hearing you call them by their names. I mean, I kind of always knew Mechs were run by people but you guys are never seen, so most of the time it's just.. Huge robots and huge monsters. You know what I mean. I was actually surprised when I saw you get out of that Mech.”

Swindle just nods. Because, what else is there to add.

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”.

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his glum mood

“Oh, hey. If it's no secret, why did you go into piloting in the first place?”

Because he had no choice? He can't answer that, that information isn't for civilians.

Because he didn't know what he was getting into until it was too late? That's not vague enough either.

Because he was up to his neck in debt and barely into college before a smiling man showed up on his doorstep and offered him good money if he agreed to a couple tests...?

“I had to do it for the people.” Swindle decides to repeat a line of propaganda.

“Ohhhh.... That's...a good reason. The monsters are disgusting, of course. But the reason is cool.”

Swindle just. Holds his glass of melting ice, listens to Blurr's mutterings, and enjoys the peace. This random teenager is not his superior or colleague and has nothing to do with the organization at all. Swindle doesn't have to remember to salute or follow orders or fear being reported to his superiors.

He can just. Be.

Just him and his free ice and his saved for free life.

That's. Sweet.

Blurr's drinking syrup again.

...and a little disgusting.

—————————-

Brawl jumps out of bed, hits his head on a shelf hanging on the wall and drops everything on it onto Blast Off's head

“Swindle!!!” yells Brawl.

“Why are these books sticky???” shrieks Blast Off.

“You don't wanna know~” giggles Vortex.

Swindle sighs.

“You're alive!!!” ignores Blast Off Brawl's complaints. And a second later runs up and pulls Swindle off the floor in a crushing bear hug.

Behind them, Blast Off, with his face wrinkled in disgust, gathers all the dropped books back onto the shelf.

Swindle wheezes pathetically and slaps Brawl's arm with his palm, either to reciprocate the gesture or to beg for mercy

“Br...khaaaaah...Brawl I can't breathh.”

“OH. I'm uh. Here. Wait.”

Brawl puts him back on the floor and runs back to the shelf.

Onslaught, who has peeked into the room, puts a hand on Swindle's shoulder

“You've been gone a long time. Boss said you tried to escape.”

His tone isn't judgmental. And not pressuring. Not even questioning, but Swindle knows Onslaught wants more information. Swindle clutches a piece of napkin with a phone number in his pocket and smiles weakly.

“I've found a...friend? I think?”

Onslaught nods. In a manner that only he knows how to do. Not giving an opinion, not encouraging or condemning. Just taking in the information. Swindle admires him for that.

Behind them, Brawl pulls some piece of paper out from under the books that have just been put away and drops them again

“FUCK!” yells Blast Off. Vortex just starts hooting like a hyena.

“Hey Swindle I found the calendar!” yells Brawl waving the paper.

Swindle frowns in surprise.

“It's a different calendar...”

“I found you a new one.” nods Brawl.

“...Why...is it...it's torn in half?”

“It had stupid flowers drawn on it, so I ripped them off. And I accidentally ripped off more than I needed.”

“Ah,” says Swindle, clutching the calendar, ”That's...Thanks. I forgive you for losing the previous one.”

Behind them, Blast Off is trying to strangle Vortex with a jacket.

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

Blurr waves his arms happily like a hyperactive windmill.

“Swindle!!!”

Swindle smiles and adjusts his glasses

“Your party can be seen from across city.”

“I know~~” primps Blurr “Are you hungry? There was a snack table around here somewhere.”

“I didn't bring any money.” lies Swindle.

“Hey man, it's a party. Help yourself, it's free.”

“Оh.” Swindle's mood instantly brightens. “All right, then.”

“You look terrible” Blurr decides to share.

Swindle, busy shoveling food into his pockets, nods.

“I've had a rough week. Actually, it'd be cool if you didn't tell anyone you saw me here. I'm kind of not supposed to be here.”

He doesn't elaborate.

Blurr is a civilian. In his mind, a rough week is rude people or an exam or bad weather. Swindle's bad week is strap marks on his wrists and double vision. It's nausea from injections and sleepless nights because Vortex won't stop screaming in his sleep.

Blurr doesn't know that. With him, Swindle can pretend to be somewhat normal.

-----------

“Heeeeey“ says Blurr ‘I haven't seen you in a long time~"

“That” thinks Swindle ”is a pretty standard phrase for both of them.

Blurr looks older. Taller too. He was taller than Swindle before, but now that difference is starting to look almost comical. He's also flaunting a cast on his arm.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Didn't make a turn at training” waves Blurr off “It's no big deal. Wanna go find something to eat?”

Blurr is always trying to feed him, Swindle notices over time. Offers him drinks or snacks or whatever.

“ I like your uh..cap?”

“I got a promotion” Swindle smiles proudly “Me and the guys were made a special group...actually you're not allowed to know more than that, so you'll have to take my word for it when I say we are officially cool.”

He purposely adjusts his cap by the brim so Blurr can get a good look at it.

Blurr makes a delighted sound. Something between a “wow” and a giggle. He generally makes a lot of sounds all the time. Tapping his fingers on every hard surface, stomping in place like he's always late for something, laughing, whistling, clicking his tongue. A human orchestra.

__________

Onslaught sits down next to Swindle and clutches his hands in his lap in front of him. This makes the bed legs squeak pitifully. Onslaught has grown surprisingly large. He can almost rival Brawl in height already. Most people find that intimidating, but Swindle just thinks Onslaught is like a wall. A big, solid concrete wall that's so good to hide behind.

“Be careful with what you tell this guy.”

“Don't worry” says Swindle ”He's not the type of friend you tell secrets to. He's just a fun dude who's great to hang out with.”

Onslaught hums.

“And who feeds you for free.”

“If that's how you're trying to ask me to share, you're not doing a very good job.”

Vortex snaps his fingers as he walks past them

“Hey Swindler, the lab is closed for today. It's your day off.”

“Wha...”

Onslaught tilts his head.

“Vortex. What did you do?”

“I spat in their dna sample vault” proudly proclaims Vortex “and didn't tell them exactly where.”

-----———————-

Blurr frowns.

“Hey...are you okay?”

“No” thinks Swindle.

“My friend died” he says instead.

He's not okay. He feels like an animal caught in a beartrap, trying to chew off its own paw to get free.

Except the trap is closed around Swindle's head and it's not a body part he can afford to lose.

There's been a lot of talk. Even more rumors. Swindle listened but tried not to believe.

And then one of pilots, Shockwave… was taken to the lab and brought back a different damn man and it felt like Swindle had the rug pulled out from under his feet with hot coals underneath.

Because Swindle's boss, with his stupid, rehearsed smile, started writing reports about how “human personality flaws are something that can be fixed. That challenging behavior is something that can be repaired with tools.

Blurr freezes.

“Who?”

“Vortex.”

Because of course it's Vortex. Talented but difficult to handle. Powerful but uncontrollable.

They wanted a pilot who would be a beast on the battlefield and a loyal dog on base. And who else would be a more ideal test subject than him?

Vortex was being very rude that day, even by Vortex standards. Yelling and swearing and throwing things around. Kept saying that no shitty lab could make him “a fucking puppet.”

Scratching the stitches on his head until he started leaving a trail of blood behind him.

He went on a mission.

And never came back.

The reports said it was all the monsters' fault. That Vortex was unstable. That the accident had nothing to do with the new technology. But it was nevertheless suspended.

Swindle is both bitter and amused by this. Vortex would eat the same monsters for breakfast any other day. The bastard was unkillable.

“Oh my god” says Blurr “I'm so sorry to hear that.”

He says something else. Probably comforting. About how Vortex died protecting people, maybe. About Vortex being a hero.

“Vortex,” thinks Swindle, ”loved life. He loved adrenaline and danger and pain and thrill and fear, but he never wanted to die. They did something to him. Something that made him go over the edge.”

Vortex got his head in the trap and ripped it off to escape it.

Swindle knows him and the others are next. And knows that no one but themselves can help them.

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

Blast Off seems...very quiet. He could never stop complaining about Vortex before. Yelling about the garbage. Resenting the unmade bed and the cigarette ashes.

Vortex's bed remains unmade.

Blast Off regularly cleans everything up, but never wipes away the little circles of ash from the places where Vortex used to put out cigarettes on the furniture.

Onslaught puts his hand on Swindle's shoulder and squeezes. Not hard. Just enough for Swindle to register the gesture as important.

Standing nearby, Blast Off lights a cigarette and leans on Onslaught.

“Ons told me about your plan. I want to join in.”

“What kind of plan? Can I get involved?” inquires Brawl.

Onslaught sighs.

“Repeat after me - I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“Good job” nods Onslaught “From now on, every time they ask you any - listen. Any! Question about us, you will answer them with this phrase.”

“Got it,” grins Brawl.

Swindle smiles.

“Gentlemen, it's time to violate all that is written, and rewrite all that is violated.”

__________________

Blurr lazily takes his eyes off the phone. He's wearing a racing suit and tons of hairspray. He's shiny and gleaming like a fine collectible figurine that should be on the shelf of an expensive exhibit. He's also bored.

“Sorry buddy, the interview is long over, if you have any questions you'll have to pay for the session.”

Swindle smiles.

“How about one tiny little question?”

Blurr makes funny big eyes.

“SWINDLE!!! I haven't seen you in a thousand years! You...oh I didn't recognize you haha sorry. Nice coat. You quit being a pilot?”

Swindle proudly adjusts his glasses. He's wearing a brand-new, ironed shirt that's exactly his size. Nice neat tie, expensive coat. Swindle isn't surprised Blurr didn't recognize him immediately. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize himself. After all those years of wearing the pilot's uniform, he felt almost attached to it. And yet here he is.

“You could say I moved.” he winks snarkily, “Up. All the Mechs you see on the streets now are my Mechs~”

Blurr completely forgets about his phone.

“REALLY?? Oh man congrats to you!”

“Thanks” nods Swindle ”You want something to drink? I'm buying.”

———————-

Onslaught adjusts his tie. It's still, years later, a little strange to see him in a uniform instead of a pilot's suit.

“You do realize it's going to be hard to find a person like that, right? We need someone famous enough to be effective and dumb enough to want to save mankind instead of sunbathing on a yacht.”

Swindle adjusts his glasses and leans back in his chair.

Someone outgoing so they can quickly befriend all the right people. Handsome enough to have their face printed on a poster. Smart just enough not to say too much. And not associated with Mecha program so they can't be accused of trying to get promoted through their acquaintances.

Someone who already has everything but still willing to put themselves at risk for the cause.

“You know, I think I have a possible candidate.”

[ssahotchnerr]

👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!

like dad does

aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3

you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.

likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.

but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.

"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."

"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"

"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"

he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.

"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"

"a meeting."

your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"

jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."

his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.

"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."

your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"

he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.

"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."

"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.

"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."

you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.

it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.

and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.

you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.

"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.

"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"

"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."

[riaki]

ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!

hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops

(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.

of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.

college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—

you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..

how unlucky do you have to be?

just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.

to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.

he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.

so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.

when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.

or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.

your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.

so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.

and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.

and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.

yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.

satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.

but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.

needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.

it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.

and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.

so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.

soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—

he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—

and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.

and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.

it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.

“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.

“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”

he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.

satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.

so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.

and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.

bonus bonus.. part 2….

[lawofcollage]

From a Campaign Perspective: Why Endorsing Kamala Harris Makes the Most Sense

Yay, Biden stepped back! (if this is how you found out and not the supernatural alert system meme... oops)

Let's talk about why Kamala Harris makes the most sense even if she, like Biden, is not one of our first choices (though she's higher on my list, certainly)

(My credentials: Former campaign worker, poli sci degree, etc)

It'd be really fucked up for him to step back and cause a PR disaster for the Dems. Kamala Harris has been at his side this whole time. Stepping over her, a woman of color who has already been doing much of the work, would cause a public relations crisis.

Kamala Harris has name recognition. We know who she is, and we at least vaguely know what she stands for. Name recognition is hugely important in an election and we do not have enough time to build it right now. This is not the time to pick someone that we've never heard of before or even vaguely never heard of.

She's run a campaign before. She knows how to do this, she has a platform that she can modify a little as needed and be ready to go over night. She has the donors from last time and everything.

She's already got a campaign schedule for Biden, she can modify that easily to suit her own needs and has more freedom to campaign than the current president because she's *not* the current president, she doesn't have COVID right now, and she's not older than dirt.

She is perfectly capable of making Trump look like a fucking idiot on stage. The highlight reel is gonna look so much better next time, hopefully.

Personal speculation: I think people are far less likely to sit it out with her name at the top of the ticket.

So what should you be doing right now?

Let's start simple. Understand that Biden did what many of us wanted right here. He stepped away from the campaign he was running and handed it off to someone younger. Fuck yeah!

Also remember that anyone who encourages you not to vote likely has an alternative agenda that involves you having less power to use your voice.

Ok, what else?

Check your voter registration here.

Not registered? You’ve moved and it’s out of date? Update your voter registration/registration here.

Don’t forget to vote up and down the ballot! Local elections matter, and hopefully you’ll find someone you’re a lot more passionate about on a local level.

And make sure your friends do the same!!!!

This website also covers what you may need to bring with you the day of. Some states require you to bring your ID, for example, so go check.Your state may have early voting options, and you should definitely use those! They make life a lot easier. You can check those out here.

P.S. Make sure to check your voter registration closer to the election as well, just in case. Probably sometime in September would be best, but just keep an eye out.

[pha55ed]

Too Early... || F1/F2

type :: smut tw/cw :: service!dom (ollie), big dick paul ofc, fem!anatomy (pepe), breeding (pepe) contains :: ollie, paul, pepe, jak, liam summary :: he missed you so much and accidentally got too excited... oops?

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

Ollie Bearman | 87

He's been training nonstop, always pushing himself to the maximum in order to prep for his official debut in Haas. Since he's been working so hard, he's never had the time to relief himself.

Usually, you're right by his side, but due to the busy schedule requiring him to travel back and forth, he hasn't seen you in half a month. He would try to use his hand, but it just took too long, and also his arms were most likely still sore from woking out. So when he came home, excited was an understatement: more like erratic

"Did you always smell this good?" He asks, engulfing your scent as his hands pinned yours down against the mattress. You blinked and before you even knew it, he was already trying to take both of your pants off, not even bothering with your top or any foreplay.

You didn't care though, just laughing at how desperate he was. In all honesty, seeing him be so needy was turning you on already. You'd love to touch him but the strength he had over you was keeping you down.

Even though Ollie might have been the horniest man alive at that moment, he still had a gentleman in him. "Can I?" Before you could even nod, he whines "Please,,, please, I'll even take just your hand or mouth or-"

"Yes, Ollie." You cut him off with a small smile. "Use me." He was the perfect mix of dominant yet gentle.

And just like that, he slipped in. A groan instantly left his mouth as his head fell and nuzzled into your neck. "I missed you, so so much." You wish you could reply, but the stretch of him was so overwhelming. Before you could even adjust fully, he started moving - making the adjustment process even easier for you.

One, two, three, four, fiv- Oh...

He groans slightly louder into your neck as you feel a warm liquid shoot inside of you. You're frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

"I...." Ollie stutters, still coming down from his high, "I... give me like, 10 minutes... I'll fuck you so good, just,,, just needed you."

Paul Aron | 17

You sighed as you enter you and Paul's shared hotel room for the night. It was a wild night, filled with laughter and dancing. Paul's close friend was dj-ing at a local nightclub so you both went to support him. It was fun, a great reunion for Paul and a great first-meeting for you to see his childhood friends.

Meeting his close friends made you so nervous, but for some reason it seemed like Paul was more shy than you were. The entire night he was stuck to your waist, always hiding behind you. You wanted to ask him about his shyness, worried for him. But before you could even look at him - his hands unzipped the back of your dress.

The touch was sudden, making you jump suddenly. "Woahhh!" You say, slightly laughing awkwardly. But once you look at Paul, you meet his dead serious eyes. His glare was so strong that you had no choice but to look anywhere else - making you look down at the huge boner in his tight pants.

You understood very quickly, blushing slightly at the sight of his dick. All the dots connected in your head, he wasn't shy, he was just horny. As if he knew you were about to laugh at him, he put a hand over your mouth and bent down to be at your eye level.

"Can I fuck you?" He asks, yet it sounds more like a demand. You eagerly nod and he quickly gets to work.

He unzips your dress, tossing it to the side and pushes your back against a wall while holding one of your legs up. You barely have time to even figure out what’s about to happen when you see that his pants are already undone and his dick is aimed at your entrance.

He looks at you once again, this time with more love in eyes than before. It was a silent ask for consent yet again, and you nodded again. With that, he pushed himself into you. It was hard for you to adjust, the thickness of his dick was splitting you apart.

Paul knows to wait, but he can’t keep his hands to himself. While one hand is keeping your leg up, the other begins to explore and touch you everywhere. His mouth leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck, it’s as if he’s about to cum already. His breathing is unstable as he slowly begins to move.

And your assumption was right,,, with 3 simple thrusts, Paul comes inside of you. A small grunt leaves his mouth and he rests his forehead on yours. You were disappointed, wanting to get off too. Paul knew that already and was ready to get to work.

He pulls his dick out and quickly inserts 2 fingers into you. As soon as they entered you, he began pumping them in and out, “I’ll fuck you, fuck your brains out - I promise.” He sighs, slightly embarrassed. “You just looked so good tonight…”

Pepe Marti | 21

Unlike the others, there was no set up. One thing about Pepe that you loved was that he sincerely loved you. The little things you do, the cute giggles and dumb mistakes you make. It’s all so endearing to him - it makes him want to make you his wife, the mother of his children. It was a regular day, just both of you cuddling in bed in silence.

To you, you were on the verge of falling asleep yet again. But to Pepe, he was appreciating the fact that he felt so comfortable being silent with you in your shared apartment. His mind drifted to the idea that one day the house would be filled with little giggles and chaos from your kids one day and how sweet of a mother you’d be and how beautiful you’d look pregnant- oh he’s hard… already…

And you felt his dick rise against you, since your leg was wrapped around his waist. You couldn’t help but smile a little, “why are you..?” You ask, not wanting to finish the sentence.

“I just love you.” He says, turning to stare at you, which only made him harder. How did he bag such a hottie?

“I love you too!” You say, kissing his lips with a peck. But he grabs your head, pulling you back in for a make out session. His hand grips your hair lightly, never hurting you yet showing his dominance.

“You can’t just kiss me while I’m hard,” he says with a small smirk as he sits upright on the bed, crawling to the bottom of the bed and sneaking between your legs, “you’re basically asking for me to fuck you.”

“Maybe I am?” You say teasingly, and that’s enough to send Pepe into a frenzy. He instantly pulls down his pajama pants and boxers, letting his dick spring free.

He knows there’s no need to rush, so he teasingly creeps us hand up your legs slowly, then slowlyyy pulls your shorts and underwear down. You basically have to kick them off if you want any progress to be made.

Pepe’s fingers reach down to your clit, running up and down the folds as he collected your slick. He spread it throughout, making sure it was evenly coated before he could enter you. The way he was so caring and patient despite his dick being red and leaking precum down the shaft made you love him even more, always making sure you’re alright.

He moved up, positioning himself at your entrance before he pushed inside, letting out a sigh of a relief but his hands were clutching the sheets next to your head. “Fuck…” he mumbles under his breathe as he looks at you.

With a small peck on his lips, Pepe understands your signal for him to move. And as quick as a peck, you feel Pepe reach the top of your guts, shooting his cum directly into you.

“Ah fuck…” he says with a sigh and small awkward chuckle. “I just, I really want to make you mine forever” he says as he keeps his dick in you, making sure no cum leaks out.

“I’m already yours forever, baby” you say. And despite you saying so little, it meant much more to Pepe as you felt his once soft dick get slightly hard again.

“Amor, you can say stuff like that… Give me a second before I get hard again.”

f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist || more here!

[harryssyndrome]

Hoax | h.s

summery: “don’t want no other shade blue but you. No other sadness in the world would do…”

based off this request. Thank you so much anon for this idea, this was so fun writing and I hope it’s something you were looking for. I tried to be as angsty as possible with a blend of cutesy sweet, hope it’s a perfect mix. Let me know in the comments? [thank you! mwah mwah mwah 💋]

Posted on: November 26th, 2024. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM. Like, comment & reblog are appreciated 💓Italics are past memories. Hope you lovelies enjoy this little big piece.

wc: 6.6k (oops🤭) || Masterlist 🤍

Tag-List: @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 @wheredidmyeyesgo @cherryloveshs | TAGLIST IS OPEN! || REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! 💌

The morning had started just like any other, the sun streaming in through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over everything, but YN barely noticed. She sat at the counter, her hands curled around a coffee mug, its warmth barely a match for the cold ache building inside her. The apartment felt empty, despite the soft hum of the city just outside the window. She could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on her, a silence that had grown more oppressive over the past few weeks.

Harry had been on tour for what seemed like forever now, and their communication had dwindled. What had once been late-night calls and stolen moments between sound checks had turned into rushed, distracted conversations, where he was either too busy or too tired to give her his full attention. YN had always known the demands of his career, had always been willing to share him with the world, but it was starting to feel like he was slipping further away from her.

She had tried to be understanding, tried to remind herself that this was just a phase—that he was only gone for a while, and they would find their way back to each other. But today felt different. Something in the air was charged with tension, a sense of dread that hung around her like a cloud. Harry had promised to call her during his break between rehearsals, and as the minutes ticked by, that sense of unease only grew. She hadn’t heard from him, not even a text to explain why.

When the phone finally rang, she grabbed it with an anxious breath, hoping for the reassurance she so desperately needed.

“Hey, babe,” Harry’s voice crackled through the phone, distant and strained. There was a tiredness in his voice that made her heart ache even more.

“Hi,” she replied softly, trying to keep her tone light, but the worry slipped out anyway. “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about me.”

Harry didn’t immediately answer, and YN could feel him shifting on the other end, perhaps looking for the right words, or maybe just gathering the energy to engage with her. “I didn’t forget,” he said after a beat, his voice uncharacteristically flat. “It’s just… things are hectic right now. You know how it is.”

YN frowned, her fingers tightening around her mug. She knew how it was. She knew that Harry’s tour schedule was demanding, that he barely had time to breathe, let alone talk to her. But it was different now. It had been different for weeks, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“I get it, Harry,” she said softly, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “But it feels like we haven’t really talked in days. I feel like I’m losing you.”

The words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken emotions. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to accuse him of pulling away, but she couldn’t ignore what was happening anymore. She missed him. She missed the way they used to connect, how they’d stay up all night talking about their dreams and fears, how they’d laugh until their stomachs ached. Now, it felt like all they did was talk about logistics and time zones. She wanted more than that.

Harry let out a heavy sigh, and for a moment, she thought he was going to apologize, that he would offer the comfort she so desperately needed. But instead, his voice grew colder, his words sharper. “You miss me? Maybe you miss the version of me that you had before all of this. But I’m not the same person anymore, YNN. I’m just tired. Tired of feeling like I’m constantly being pulled in a million directions.”

Her heart sank at his words, the finality in them hitting her harder than she had expected. “What does that mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s words came out in a rush, almost like he couldn’t stop them, as if they were coming from a place deeper than he intended. “It means that I don’t have the energy for this right now. I don’t have the energy to keep pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. And maybe I’m just tired of pretending that you’re not asking for more than I can give. Maybe I need space. Maybe we both need space.”

The words stabbed her. She felt them deep in her chest, each one like a dagger, twisting further with every breath. “Space?” she echoed, barely able to form the word, the hurt creeping into her voice despite her best efforts to hold it back. “I’m not asking for space, Harry. I’m just asking for you. For the person you promised me you’d always be.”

Harry didn’t respond right away, and when he did, his voice was tight, defensive. “Maybe that person isn’t here anymore, YNN. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to say.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. YN could hear the faint rustling of something on his end of the phone, the noise of people moving in the background, but it didn’t matter. The emptiness between them felt so loud, so unbearable. The connection that once held them together was fraying, thread by thread.

She swallowed hard, the tears welling in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. “If that’s how you feel, then I guess I’ll leave.”

The words came out before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted them. But the damage was done. The silence that followed was deafening, and the weight of Harry’s absence felt so heavy, so crushing, that she could barely breathe. The person she loved, the person she had given everything to, had just told her he was done. He was tired of her.

Before she could say another word, she ended the call. The click of the phone disconnecting felt like the final nail in the coffin, sealing whatever it was that they had left.

YN sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in her hand as if it were some foreign object. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her mind was numb, her thoughts tangled in confusion and hurt. The apartment, their shared space, felt so small now. It felt suffocating. Every corner of the place was a reminder of everything that had once been good, everything that was now falling apart.

Tears blurred her vision as she stood up from the counter. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to go. But she couldn’t stay there. Not with him, not with the words he had just said. The love they had built felt like ashes, and she couldn’t breathe in the smoke any longer.

She started packing her things, her movements automatic, like she was on autopilot. Her hands shook as she threw clothes into a bag, not caring if they matched or if they were folded neatly. Nothing mattered in that moment except the urgent need to get away from the place that had once been home. She ignored the phone buzzing with messages, messages from Harry, apologizing, pleading with her to call him back. She couldn’t. Not yet. Not after the things he had said.

When she finished packing, she grabbed her bags and walked out the door. The apartment felt even emptier as she closed the door behind her. There were no more goodbyes, no more promises. Just the echo of his hurtful words ringing in her ears.

YN drove to her parents’ house in a daze, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened, about how quickly their love had unraveled. She needed space to think. To breathe. To figure out how to move on from this. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t that simple.

It wasn’t just a fight. It was something deeper. Something that couldn’t be fixed with apologies.

When she pulled into the driveway, she didn’t feel the relief she thought she would. Instead, the silence that had followed her from their apartment seemed to follow her here. Even the familiar sight of her childhood home didn’t offer the comfort it once had. It all felt distant. Empty. Just like her heart.

She stepped out of the car, closing the door behind her with a soft click. As she walked up to the front door, her phone buzzed again. She ignored it. She couldn’t bear to look at it. She couldn’t bear to see his name flashing on the screen. The man she loved had just shattered her heart into a million pieces, and she didn’t know how to pick them up.

The night had been a blur for Harry. The anger, the disappointment, the gnawing guilt in his chest from the argument with YN—it was all too much to bear. In the solitude of his hotel room, far from her, he drowned out the pain with alcohol. He knew he had messed up, knew he had hurt her with his words, but the overwhelming pressure of being on tour, the constant demand of being a public figure, and the exhaustion had driven him to the brink. He had never intended for it to escalate the way it did, but in his drunken haze, it all came crashing down.

Somewhere between the blurry shots and the endless stream of drinks, he found himself in a bar, surrounded by strangers, feeling more alone than he had in a long time. His phone was buzzing on the table, the screen lighting up with YN’s name flashing, but he didn’t pick it up. The coldness in his heart had become too unbearable, and he pushed her away instead of confronting the hurt he had caused. He just wanted the world to stop spinning for a moment. He wanted to forget everything that had gone wrong.

And that was when Emily Ratajkowski had walked in.

They had known each other for years, casually friendly in the way celebrities often are when their circles overlap. Emily, ever the charmer, had greeted Harry with a friendly smile. They sat and talked, their conversation casual at first, just the usual small talk about work and life. But Harry, caught in his haze of regret, had let his guard down. The more they talked, the more the words flowed. In some strange way, it felt easy to talk to her—like she was a stranger he could confide in, someone who didn’t carry the same weight of their past, the years of intimacy and history he shared with YN.

It didn’t take long before the alcohol took its toll. Emily’s laughter had filled the air, and Harry had found himself leaning closer, her presence soothing in a way that made him forget the ache in his chest. Before he knew it, they were kissing. His mind screamed for him to stop, to think about YN, to remember everything he stood to lose. But in that moment, he didn’t. The guilt had been smothered by the fleeting comfort of the kiss, the escape from his spiraling thoughts.

He didn’t remember much after that. The night blurred into incoherence, a jumble of laughter, flashes, and fleeting touches. Harry woke up the next morning, disoriented and groggy, the light filtering through the hotel room window far too bright. His phone was buzzing incessantly, and his stomach churned when he saw the series of missed calls and messages from YN. The weight of it all hit him like a wave, and for a moment, he just sat there, trying to piece together the fragments of his memories.

Then, his phone lit up with an alert—a notification from a gossip website, and his heart dropped into his stomach. There, in front of him, were pictures of him and Emily Ratajkowski, the kind of photos Harry had spent years avoiding. They were kissing, their lips pressed together, captured in a moment of reckless abandon that Harry didn’t even fully remember. The headline was cruel: Harry Styles and Emily Ratajkowski—A New Romance in the Making?

His throat tightened as he scrolled through the photos, his mind racing. He didn’t remember kissing her. He didn’t remember anything about that night except the overwhelming sense of regret that now gripped him. He had ruined everything. The fragile thread holding him together seemed to snap in that moment. He had lost YN, and now the media would make sure the world knew it. His personal life was on full display, and all he could think about was how much he had fucked it all up.

Desperation began to rise in his chest, and without thinking, he began sending text after text to YN, each one filled with apologies, regret, and pleas for her to talk to him. But she didn’t answer. The silence on the other end was deafening.

Meanwhile, YN was in her parents’ house, sitting in the living room with the muted glow of the television casting long shadows across the room. The house, once a place of comfort and warmth, now felt suffocating. Her mother had been quiet ever since YN arrived, sensing the heavy tension in the air. She tried to comfort her daughter, offering tea, but YN couldn’t bring herself to care. The weight of the argument, of the harsh words Harry had said, sat heavily in her chest, gnawing at her.

But when the photos surfaced—when she saw Harry with Emily, their lips locked, the headlines flashing across her phone—her world shattered all over again. The room spun around her, and she felt like she was suffocating. The love she had poured into her relationship with Harry now felt like a cruel joke. She had trusted him. She had believed in him. And now this—this betrayal was too much to bear.

Tears blurred her vision, and she quickly turned away from her phone. Her mother noticed the change in her expression and asked softly, “YN, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I can’t do this,” YN whispered, choking on her tears. “I can’t keep doing this. I thought he loved me… but now… now I don’t know who he is anymore. It didn’t even take him a night to move on?”

Her mother hugged her tightly, murmuring comforting words, but YN couldn’t hear them. The pain of what she had seen—the public humiliation of it all—felt like a physical weight on her chest. She needed to get away. She needed to clear her head.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said, her voice distant, as if she were speaking to herself rather than her mother.

Her mother nodded, understanding the need for space, and watched as YN stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapping around her like a blanket.

The lake stretched out before her, calm and unbothered by the storm raging inside her. Its surface shimmered faintly under the overcast sky, the golden light of the fading afternoon barely breaking through the thick clouds. The familiar sight of it— the way the trees reflected on the water, the distant sound of birds, the rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore-should have brought YN the comfort she was seeking. But all it did was make her chest tighten with a suffocating ache.

She had always come to this place for solace, even as a child. The lake by her parents' house was her sanctuary, a space where the noise of the world couldn't touch her. But now, as she stood there, arms wrapped tightly around herself against the crisp autumn air, the silence was deafening. It wasn't peace she found here today. It was the echo of memories she had desperately tried to bury since she walked out of the home she had once shared with Harry.

Her boots crunched softly against the earth as she made her way closer to the water's edge, the damp grass soaking the hem of her dress. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faintest scent of pine and earth. But YN didn't notice. Her mind was far away, replaying a reel of memories she wished she could turn off. No matter how much she tried to focus on the present, her past with Harry came rushing back to her, vivid and bittersweet.

She crouched down near the shore, her fingertips brushing against the cool surface of the water. As ripples spread outward, her thoughts drifted to another time, another version of herself-a happier one. She closed her eyes, and it all came rushing back as if she were still there.

It had been a summer evening, the sun setting in brilliant hues of orange and pink.

Harry had been sitting on the dock, legs stretched out, his feet just barely skimming the water. YN had been lying beside him, her head resting on his thigh as they shared a bottle of wine they had stolen from her parents' pantry. The lake had been their escape that summer, a place where the chaos of Harry's career and the pressures of the world seemed to melt away.

"This place is magic," Harry had murmured, running his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. His voice had been low, almost reverent, as he looked out at the water.

YN had tilted her head to glance up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. "You always say that," she teased. "But you're not wrong."

He grinned, his dimple deepening as he looked down at her. "It's true, though. Don't you feel it? It's like... time stops here. Like nothing bad can touch us."

She had laughed softly, the sound blending with the gentle rustle of the trees.

"That's what l've always loved about this place. It's quiet. Peaceful. Away from everything."

Harry had hummed in agreement, his gaze softening as he studied her. "One day, YNN... one day l'd love to settle down somewhere like this. Away from the noise. Just us."

Her breath had caught at his words, her heart skipping a beat. "Just us?" she'd asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well," he'd added, his lips twitching into a playful smile, "maybe not just us. I'm thinking a couple of little ones running around, maybe a dog... or two."

YN's heart skipped at his words, her stomach flipping in that way it always did when he hinted at their future. She laughed, nudging him playfully. "Little ones, huh? You planning on starting a family with me already, Styles?"

Harry grinned, his dimple showing as he leaned closer, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something deeper. "Why not? I mean it, YNN. I'd love that. A house by the lake. Waking up every morning with you by my side. Teaching our kids how to fish or swim or whatever it is people do out here. It sounds perfect."

Her breath caught as she looked at him, the sincerity in his words tugging at something deep within her. "It does," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It sounds perfect."

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "You're perfect," he murmured, and before she could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

The world had faded away then, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in a bubble of love and possibility.

“I wouldn’t want anything less than forever when it comes to you.”

His words had settled into her heart like a warm glow, and she had leaned in to kiss him, the taste of wine still lingering on his lips. In that moment, with the sun setting and the world quiet around them, she had believed him. She had believed in forever.

YN blinked, the memory dissolving as the present came crashing back. The lake was still, the air cold, and Harry wasn't there. Her chest ached as she stared at the dock, the image of them sitting there overlaying the reality of its emptiness. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his hand in hers, but it was all in her mind.

The betrayal burned anew, the image of him with Emily flashing behind her eyes.

How could he have said those things, painted that picture of their future, and then so carelessly let it all fall apart? How could he kiss someone else after everything they had shared?

How had they gone from that to this? How had the man who once promised her forever ended up kissing someone else? The image of Harry and Emily flashed in her mind again, sharper this time, and her stomach twisted. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trying to hold together the pieces of her heart that felt like they were falling apart.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. The life she had envisioned with Harry-the house by the lake, the little ones running around, the forever they had dreamed of-felt like a distant, unattainable dream. And yet, no matter how much she wanted to hate him, to shut him out completely, her heart wouldn't let her. She still loved him, even now, even after everything.

YN sank down onto the grass, her knees pulled to her chest, tears streaming freely now. She thought of the countless nights they had spent talking about their dreams, their plans. The way Harry had once made her feel so safe, so sure of their love. And now, it all felt like a cruel joke, a dream turned nightmare.

"Why, Harry?" she whispered into the stillness. "Why did you have to ruin everything?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

She let herself cry then, the sobs wracking her body as she finally allowed herself to feel the full weight of her heartbreak. The lake bore silent witness to her pain, its surface rippling gently as if trying to offer her some semblance of comfort.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a graveyard for their love.

When she returned to the house, her heart felt heavy, each step laden with the weight of everything she was feeling. But it wasn't the emptiness of the house that grabbed her attention; it was the faint sound-the small, deliberate taps against the window. At first, she thought it was the rain playing tricks on her, the gentle taps against the glass. But when she heard it again-sharp and insistent-her breath caught in her throat.

Her mind didn't even have time to process it fully. She spun toward the window, her heart pounding in her chest. And there he was.

Harry.

He stood in the pouring rain, his face pale, his hair clinging to his skin. His clothes were soaked through, and his hands trembled slightly as he threw small pebbles at the window, as if trying to wake her from a nightmare she couldn't escape. She stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Was this real? Was this the same man who had hurt her so badly?

But then, she saw it in his eyes-the desperation. The raw vulnerability. The silent plea for forgiveness that spoke louder than words ever could. He was standing there, drenched, with nothing left to lose. He was a broken man, and in that moment, she could see that he knew he had ruined everything.

Before she could stop herself, she ran to the down to the front door, threw it open, and without thinking, rushed outside into the rain.

The rain fell in torrents, its relentless downpour drowning out all sound except for the beat of water against the ground. Harry stood before YN, drenched, his eyes wide with desperate urgency, a look of raw pain etched into every line of his face. His clothes clung to his body, soaked through, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside of him.

“YN…” His voice broke, as if the weight of her name was too much to bear. His hand reached out shakily, desperate to bridge the gap between them, but she pulled away slightly. He flinched, not from her rejection, but from the weight of his own guilt that seemed to pull him lower with every passing second.

“I—” He took a breath, trying to steady himself, but his words tumbled out in a frantic rush. “I never meant for it to be this way. I never meant to hurt you, YNN. I swear, I never thought—God, I was so drunk, so damn stupid. I don’t even remember what happened, but I know I messed up. I know I messed everything up.”

YN’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt her, how much his words still stung like a constant ache in her soul. But instead, she stood there, her breath coming in ragged bursts, staring at him as he trembled in the rain. She wasn’t sure whether it was the cold of the storm or the pain inside him that made him shudder, but it was impossible to ignore the depth of his regret.

“You do remember, Harry,” she finally spoke, her voice shaking but strong. “You remember everything, even if you don’t remember that moment. You remember the things you said to me. You remember how you treated me. How you—” She stopped herself, not wanting to continue with the painful words. But the memory of his cutting tone, his dismissive words, echoed in her mind, taunting her, making her question everything they had ever shared. “I trusted you. I loved you. And you—you broke me.”

Harry’s eyes welled with unshed tears as he took a step toward her, this time not caring if she pulled away. He was beyond caring about the rain, beyond caring about anything except for the woman standing before him, the one person who had always been his everything.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, and she could see the raw vulnerability in his eyes. “I know I broke you. And that’s the worst part of it. I never wanted to hurt you. Not in a million years. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, YNN. You’re it for me, you always have been.” He reached for her again, but this time she didn’t pull away. His fingers brushed against hers, a tentative touch, as if he were afraid she might vanish the moment he let go.

“But I let my stupid insecurities, my stupid mistakes, cloud everything,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I’ve never been more scared of losing someone than I am of losing you, and I couldn’t see that until now. I couldn’t see that you are the one I need. That it’s not the fame, it’s not the tour, it’s not anyone or anything else—it’s you, YN. You’re the only thing that matters.”

The words hung in the air like fragile threads, each one trembling with a rawness that made YN’s heart ache in ways she didn’t think possible. The anger, the hurt—it was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but now there was something else too: hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all lost.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to push him away, wanted to shout at him for what he had done, but when she looked at him—really looked at him—there was something so devastatingly human about him, standing there, shaking in the rain. He was broken, but there was sincerity in his apology, a plea that reached her heart in ways his words never had before.

“You don’t even understand what you’ve done to me, Harry,” she said, her voice quivering as she took a step back. “You think it’s just about what happened with her, with Emily? It’s not. It’s about everything that led up to that moment. It’s about the words you said to me, the way you dismissed everything we had, everything I gave you. It’s about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough.”

Harry closed his eyes, a silent tear slipping down his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, YNN. I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t enough. You’re everything to me. I’ve been an idiot, and I know I’ve hurt you, but please… don’t let this be the end for us. I can’t lose you. I just can’t… live without you. I can’t.”

The storm raged around them, but the silence between them felt deafening, thick with the weight of everything unsaid, everything unresolved. YN could feel the anger still bubbling inside her, but she also felt the pull of something deeper—the love she had for him, the love that she had thought was gone, but now seemed to flicker in her chest like a fragile flame.

She wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt, but something inside her was giving way.

“Harry, I…” Her voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as her chest tightened painfully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you right now. I need time. I need space to figure this out.” She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes as the tears finally spilled over, mingling with the rain. “I don’t know if I can go back to who we were. You hurt me too much.”

He stepped forward again, his hand reaching for her, trembling with the force of his desperation. “Please, YN. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you all the space you need. I’ll be patient, I swear. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But don’t walk away from me. Please.”

She didn’t respond immediately. The storm had drowned out every thought, every hesitation in her mind, but there was still one thing she knew for certain: she couldn’t let him go. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. Not when her heart was still so tangled up in him, so unable to let go of the person he had once been to her.

“I need time,” she repeated softly, her voice barely audible against the pounding rain. “I need to think, Harry. Please, just… just go inside. I can’t—” She couldn’t finish the sentence, not without breaking apart completely.

Harry nodded, his face a picture of heartbreaking understanding. His heart was in pieces, but he was willing to wait, willing to do whatever it took to prove that he could make things right. Without another word, he turned toward the house, slowly, unwilling to leave her in the storm but knowing that he had to respect her need for space.

YN watched him go, her heart heavy in her chest, torn between love and hurt, between forgiveness and anger. The rain continued to pour, and as she stood there, feeling the cold seep into her bones, she wondered if they would ever find their way back to each other—or if this was the beginning of the end.

The night had felt like an eternity. Each minute stretched on, filled with haunting thoughts and the pounding rhythm of YNs heart. Her mind was tangled in knots, the anger still burning bright, but beneath it all, there was an undercurrent of something she couldn’t deny: the love she still had for Harry. It was the kind of love that had once felt so pure, so easy, but now felt fractured, jagged, like trying to hold onto a shattered glass piece that was bleeding into her heart.

She hadn’t been able to sleep. The past few days, the pain, the betrayal, the anger—it all swirled together in a mess that made her restless. Harry’s words from the night before—the desperate, raw apology—replayed over and over again in her mind, like a broken record. And yet, each time she thought of it, the hurt crept back in. She had tried to push it away, tried to convince herself that she could ignore it, but the reality was that she couldn’t. Not when the memories of their love, of their happy moments, still clung to her like the scent of his cologne.

But it wasn’t just the hurt she was feeling. There was something else, something deeper, something that felt too real to ignore. She couldn’t escape the way her heart still responded to Harry, no matter how hard she tried.

As the morning light began to filter through the windows, YN could no longer stay in the silence of her room. She had to see him. She had to confront everything that had happened and, maybe—just maybe—find a way to heal. But even as the desire to see him grew stronger, there was still that gnawing uncertainty. Could she really trust him again? Could she really forgive him for what had happened?

The house was quiet as she made her way down the stairs, the soft creak of the wooden steps echoing in the otherwise still air. The soft hum of the morning felt foreign against the heaviness that weighed on her shoulders, but she ignored it, pushing forward. When she stepped outside, the cold hit her like a rush, but it was nothing compared to the chill in her heart.

The lake was quiet, still as glass, the air thick with the faint scent of damp earth and fresh water. And there, sitting on the grass at the edge of the lake, was Harry. His posture was slumped, his shoulders drooped, as though the weight of the world was resting on him. The sight of him in this state, so broken and vulnerable, pulled at her heart in ways she couldn’t explain.

He looked so small, so lost.

For a moment, YN stood there, watching him. She wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. But as she watched him, she realized that she couldn’t stay away. Not anymore. She had to speak. She had to let him know how much he had hurt her, but also how much she still cared, despite everything.

Her footsteps were quiet on the soft earth as she made her way toward him. Harry didn’t look up immediately, but she could see the slight twitch of his head as if he felt her presence. His face was blank, his eyes staring out at the water, but there was something in the way he held himself that spoke volumes.

YN stopped just a few feet away, standing still as the silence stretched between them. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke. The tension was thick, palpable, like a heavy fog.

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. The silence, the uncertainty. She had to break it.

“I don’t even know where to start, Harry,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to protect herself from the rawness of the moment. “You hurt me. You really hurt me. And I don’t know if I can ever forget what you said to me. What you did to us.”

Harry flinched, as if each word she spoke cut through him. He finally lifted his head, his red-rimmed eyes meeting hers. There was guilt in those eyes, raw and undeniable. His voice came out barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry, YNN. I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to explain how much I regret everything. I was angry, and I was drunk, and I didn’t—” He cut himself off, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists at his sides. “I never meant to hurt you. Not like that. You’re everything to me, YNN. You always have been.”

YN took a deep breath, her chest tight with the conflicting emotions. She wanted to stay angry, to protect herself from the pain he’d caused, but she couldn’t deny that his words, his remorse, were hitting something deep inside her. It wasn’t enough to erase the hurt, but it was a start. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw how broken he was. He was a man who had made a mistake, but he was also a man who still cared for her.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to live in the hurt and the anger. I want to move past this, but I need to know that you’ll never do this again. I need to know that you’re willing to fight for us.”

Harry’s eyes welled up, the emotion overwhelming him. He reached out then, taking her hand gently, almost like he was afraid she might pull away. “I swear to you, YNN. I’ll fight for us. I’ll fight for you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. I’ll spend every single day proving to you that you’re worth more than anything, more than the stupid mistakes I’ve made. You mean everything to me.”

YN’s breath caught in her throat. It was impossible to ignore the depth of his words, the rawness in his voice. But it wasn’t just the words that got to her; it was the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he rarely showed anyone, let alone her.

She stepped closer to him, her heart pounding as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She had been so angry, so broken, but looking at him now, she realized that she couldn’t just walk away.

“I want to believe you, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I really do. But I need time. I need time to heal, to trust you again.”

Harry’s face softened, relief flooding through him. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, every step of the way. I’ll prove to you that I’m worth it. That we’re worth it.”

And in that moment, everything felt a little bit clearer. The storm inside her had not fully subsided, but the clouds were beginning to part, and the sun was starting to peek through. She stepped closer, closing the distance between them, and in one slow, careful motion, she placed her hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart under her palm was a reminder of how much he still cared.

“I’m willing to try,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to try if you promise me that you’ll never let me go again.”

Harry’s eyes shone with tears, and he pulled her into his arms, his hands cupping her face gently as he kissed her forehead, his lips brushing softly over her skin. “I promise you, YNN. I’ll never let you go. You’re my everything. I love you.”

YN closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. She hadn’t been sure if she could forgive him, if she could ever move past the hurt. But standing here in his arms, feeling his heart beat against hers, she realized that love wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always simple. But it was worth fighting for.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them felt a little less heavy, a little less uncertain. The future was still unclear, but for the first time in a long time, they both had hope.

They’ll be alright.

[biteyoubiteme]

busy signal

fem!reader x huening kai x choi yeonjun

synopsis: yeonjuns away on a trip and sends you a suggestive photo leaving you needing the help of your other boyfriend kai to take care of you.

warnings: 🔞!! established relationship, throuple/poly, no mxm, phone sex, breeding kink if you squint, size kink if you squint, praise, nipple play, fingering, multiple orgasms (f!rec), oral (f!rec), unprotected sex, creampie, use of the name baby, love, and the word slutty is used once.

wc: 4.7k oops

an: this is my first post on tumblr and first time writing anything with k-pop idols. feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

in the middle of class your phone gave a deafening jingle in the silent room. for the better part of the day your phone had not gone off meaning you didn’t know the ringer was waiting to interrupt your lesson. waiting for the perfect time to make you flustered as you tried to dig it out of your over-cramped bag to shut it off. 

by the time you grab it, the class is watching as your cheeks turn pink stitching it to silent. the professor clears their throat to catch everyone’s attention again as you look at the message that embarrassed you. 

thinking of you <333

the photo attached is enough to make your blush burn your ears. Yeonjun had an away game this week in Chicago. Kai and you were unable to make it because of your class schedules, and every time he went away with the hockey team he made sure to fill your phone with lude photos and audios. in his words to “make sure you don’t forget about me.”

so now you were not only embarrassed for the outburst but feeling needy all at once. Yeonjun was leaning back shirtless on his hotel bed fisting his hard cock through the thin material of his underwear. 

you clicked your phone off as fast as you could hoping no one saw the photo and if they did it had been too quick to know exactly what it was. but you knew instantly because it was one of Yeonjuns favorite poses and he knew it was one of your favorites. 

You still had thirty minutes in class left and a bike ride home where you were sure to call Yeonjun to chew him out knowing he has your schedule memorized. for now you slumped in your seat pushing your thighs together to relieve yourself, if only slightly because as class went on the only thing you could think about was Yeonjun and his teasing. 

when you do call Yeonjun he chuckles over the line “I’m sorry the time difference has me all messed up,” 

“I was so embarrassed,” your tone is on the edge of a whine and you can practically hear Yeonjun smile. 

“Did I make you all hot and bothered in theoretical physics?” 

“junnie,” you drag the name out and he chuckles again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you can hear one of his teammates calling for him, “I’ll call you tonight maybe I can walk you through your little problem,” 

“I don’t have a problem,” but it’s a lie and he knows it. your bike ride having made it all the more obvious how needy you really are, the seat pushing the seam of your jeans right against your clit uncomfortably. 

“liar,” he sings, “if you can’t wait until tonight you do have Kai waiting at the apartment.  he could fix your problem,”

“I don’t have a problem for anyone to fix,” you say, making it to your apartment and locking your bike up. “and kai is busy you shouldn’t be making me his to handle when you did this to me,” 

“So you admit it,” grin in his voice. 

“Yeonjun-“ 

“yes yes I know no teasing you cross country but hey you have two boyfriends for a reason. now I have to go, I love you!” he hung up before you could reply. 

kai, Yeonjun, and you have been a trouple since high school and friends for far longer. it was not unusual in your relationship for Yeonjun to pass you off to Kai seeing as both of you tended to be a bit shy around each other when it came to sex unless it was the right circumstances i.e being drunk or just being extra clingy. kai and you are always cuddling and close. you love it when he touches you but Yeonjun is usually there to guide the two of you together, that one extra push to set the two of you in motion. you mostly think this is because the three of you started this way in the first place making it the norm. 

you push open the door to your shared apartment kicking off your shoes and handing your keys on the hook. Kai's penguin keychain is already in its place showing he’s home. The only light coming from the office down the short hallway, the curtains closed against the setting sun. Padding your way over to the office you see Kai with his rumpled brown hair typing on his keyboard. He had a long paper due by midnight and had been working on it the past week, even last night he had only made it to bed around two in the morning. 

you toss your school bag next to your empty desk on the opposite side of Kai’s before leaning over his seat to wrap your arms around him in a hello. “working hard huening?” you ask, pressing the side of your face into his hair. He tilts his chin in a way signaling to peck his check all without him taking his eyes away from the screen. 

“nearly done,” 

“Have you been staring at the screen all day?” you ask, taking in his squinted eyes and dark circles. “Did you eat anything since I left this morning?” 

“some jelly I found in the fridge,” he nods. 

“You can’t survive only on jelly,” you press on more kisses to his cheek before pulling away, “I’ll order takeaway for dinner but for now I’m going to try and nap,” he nods away, never leaving the essay the entire time. you are halfway out the door when he speaks up, “Did you talk to Hyung? Did his game go well?” and you’re brought back to the photo on your phone. kai would have been able to see how red you had gotten if he had looked your way. you weren't wearing a bra under your sweatshirt, your tank top being sufficient enough but your nipples are hard and uncomfortable against the martial. 

“His game was good, he um, interrupted my class with his messages,” your voice was weak but unnoticed by Kai. 

“oh good,” and you rush to your room to pull off your clothes. first the jeans digging into you then your sweatshirt. but as you lay down in your empty bed you can’t find anything to calm your racing mind. you grab your phone from the nightstand trying to scroll aimlessly but you keep thinking about the photo. 

tossing and turning you end up on your stomach too hot to be under the covers even in only your panties and tank top. you open the text chain with Yeonjun and it’s the first thing you see. the sly little “thinking of you” message eating you alive. it was so unfair that he was so easily satisfied when away from you but you couldn’t get off by yourself and not that you hadn’t tried many times before. your hands weren’t the right feel, too short fingers, too soft, too much to think about. but you needed to get off now, looking at him with the veins in his hands showing off. you were uncomfortably wet and aching. you hadn’t even noticed the small whines you were letting out as you rolled over to your back pulling your knees up to rub your thighs together. 

you wanted to call Yeonjun and beg him to walk you through an orgasm, wanted to beg Kai to take over with his mouth even if he was exhausted. but you dug your grave earlier and wouldn’t hear the end of it from Yeonjun if you fessed up to being so turned on by the photo. 

This conundrum leads you to the file you had saved with all the previous photos Yeonjun had sent for this very purpose. there was no forgetting him now and not ever when he made you feel this way hundreds of miles away. 

you hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting, how the room was dark and you were still stuck lying in bed looking for a release you couldn’t give yourself. and not for the lack of trying you just couldn’t make it to the end. Every missed orgasm made you tear up your soft whines suddenly pulling Kai’s attention from the other room. 

The office has an adjoining wall and he was too focused on his paper to see what time it was or to see that the only light now was from his screen. He hit submit flicking off the monitor to hear your soft whimper. 

he remembered you saying you would be taking a nap and then ordering food. but now seeing the time you had slept for way longer than you usually napped for after class and he would know because it was one of his favorite after-class activities to nap right along with you. 

he picked himself up from his desk making his way into the dark hallway following your desperate whines. When he made it to the dark bedroom the three of you shared he flipped the switch that only lit the far corners lamp. and There you were with your hand in your pale pink panties eyes screwed shut, skin hot and flushed. you gave a weak sob before tugging your hand back still unaware of Kai in the doorway. 

Kai was frozen, face turning all different shades of pink. He was tired before but now he was awake, the swell of his cock clearly seen through his gray sweatpants. He has always reacted easily to the sight of you and he was fast to try and push those feelings away. He was needy and always believed himself to be too needy and he wanted to keep you from that. Let Yeonjun take over sexually and let Kai take over emotionally. 

but now here you are teary and writhing in the bed. your phone is next to your head and without warning it rings startling both you and Kai, who you finally notice. 

 both of you are still as the ringtone sings alone in the silence. “answer it,” Kai’s voice is thick in his throat and you lean up on your elbows to grab the phone, shutting your knees to try and hide the wet spot on your panties as if he hadn't already seen it. 

“I almost didn't think you would pick up,” is the first thing Yeonjun says, the sound of his crinkling sheets on the other line telling you he was tucking in for the night. 

“I was…” another tear sliding down your cheek, eyes locked on huening who gives nothing away. “busy,” the phone pressed to your ear. 

“busy? working out the problem I gave you?” he says it as a joke but you’re already too needy to take it well. your voice shakes ready to burst into tears, “You’re the worst you already know I can’t do it myself,” you blink up to the ceiling trying to hold back any more tears from slipping and to avoid Kai’s gaze. 

“Where is kai? I left you in perfectly capable hands,” 

“he was busy and I didn’t want to bother him,”

“But where is he now, you said was, so he must be done. His deadline was a few minutes ago,” you peek over to huening, his arms crossed still standing in the door watching you, eyes trying to see right through your legs. “He's here,” you whisper shyly. 

“put me on speaker,” 

“junnie,”

“put me on speaker,” no room for argument. you follow instructions balancing the phone on your knees so you can rest your elbow back down on the mattress. “I leave for three days and you guys can’t live without me?” 

“Hyung-“

“huening we’ve been over this before if she needs to be taken care of she gets taken care of,” 

“I’m not a house plant,” you quip, “ and I don’t need to be forced onto any-“ 

“you’re never forcing me,” Kai cuts in, “if you had asked I could have…” but he shakes his head not knowing how to continue.

“use your words,” Yeonjun pushed after Kai trails off, “You both get nowhere without asking, again we've been over this. kai you know what you're doing and she likes it, loves it, hell we both know she likes your fingers over mine,” 

“junnie,” your blush is all down your chest now made to look worse by your white tank, your nipples are straining against the fabric. you don’t know why you always felt so shy around Kai, maybe it was because he was so much bigger than you even if you were a little older. he stood over you, took up space in the doorframe, and completely wrapped himself around you when you hugged, that added with the fact he too was shy only worsened the effect you had on each other. even after knowing each other for most of your lives. 

Kai had already made it to the bed sitting right on the edge close enough to hear the phone better. “Pick yourself up, use your words, and ask for what you want. if I can’t even see you and I know exactly what it is you want then it should be easy for the two of you to grasp,” 

“But what if…” Kai starts and you know he wants to bring up the one time he didn’t make you finish. It was years ago in high school when the three of us were still new to sex. Yeonjun was there to make you cum but it made Kai scared ever since and it only worsened his fear of repeating that night when Yeonjun wasn’t here to make up for him. 

“huening that was like six years ago and I’ve seen you make her cum so hard she couldn’t form words before. Do you need me to walk you through it?” 

Kai placed a hand around your ankle at the question sending a bolt to your core. your knee jerking in response sending the phone flying from your knee and onto your stomach still face up. “could you?”

“What's she wearing?” 

Kai drags his hand up your calf and you clamp your knees together. “hardly anything,” his voice is throaty, his pupils blown. “the blush pink panties and a spaghetti strap tank,” 

Yeonjun hums over the phone approvingly. “Summer always makes her dress so slutty,” he groans, “not fair I don’t get to see,” 

“facetime?” Kai asks leaning over to place a feather-light kiss on your knee. 

“you guys won’t be able to hold the phone the way I want to see,” he shuffles again in bed. “is she wet?” 

you whimper at the question keeping your knees pinned together but Kai already knows the answer, “soaked even though she’s trying to hide it,”

“am not,” and Kai raises his brows but doesn’t push it, only lays another stomach-fluttering kiss on your knee. 

“always wants to deny deny deny,” and Kai chuckles,” Pull her legs open I’m sure you will have to hold her thighs down,” 

Kai follows his instructions, butterflying your legs to either side, hands eating up your thighs. Kai pulls himself onto the bed fully laying down to be level with your clothes core. you can feel his breath through the wet fabric and you try to wiggle away. 

Kai squeezes the meat of your thigh again in warning. “take your time before taking her panties off,” 

kai blows cool air onto your clothed wet center making you buck your hips so sensitive from the strain of the day. Kai keeps you pinned before leaning in to rub his nose over the sodden fabric, the tip brushing your clit sending a chill up your spine. He gives a little smile at your reaction, your teeth digging into your lip. 

“I want to hear you baby,” Yeonjun took the words right from his mouth. Kai needs to hear your moans now with your tears drying on your cheeks, your desperate whines turning into desperate pleas. 

Kai gives the smallest kiss to your clit and you try to chase the sensation. “Kai,” your pout is unheard as he lifts a finger to pull back your panties to reveal you to him. 

and no matter how many times he’s faced your pussy it will forever be his favorite sight. your puffy lips begging to be sucked, clit swollen, and you never fail to be drenched and glistening. He licks his lips, you had mentioned him needing to eat and now he’s faced with his favorite meal. 

“slow huening you always give her what she wants so fast let her wait,”

“junnie please, I’ve been waiting all day,” you try to roll your hips to meet Kai’s face but he pulls away keeping his finger hooked in your panties. it’s hard to completely move with his chest on your feet but it doesn’t stop you from trying when he latches onto your thigh leaving a trail of kisses and bites. 

“Please,” you breathe and the chorus of both of them moaning makes your stomach flutter, they always make the prettiest noises. 

Kai quits his teasing and gives you one last clit kiss before suddenly licking a path from your entrance to your clit where he latches on and gives a harsh suck. the sensation makes your knees jerk up and you reach a hand out to tangle in his hair, tugging hard. “oh fuck,” are the only coherent words Yeonjun can make out over the phone. 

in Chicago, he’s spread out on his bed phone in one hand and his cock in the other. gripping the base to relieve some pressure but not jerking off just yet. 

kai works your clit just the way you like and you can feel your impending orgasm building with how close you’ve been all night. kai let’s go of your thigh with one hand before gathering up your slick and prodding your entrance. your back arches giving him better access and you moan as he slips a finger in and then another. 

“She's close,” Yeonjun breathes. He and Kai both know the change in your whimpering. 

kai nips at your clit and you cry out as he presses the sweet gummy spot inside you that makes you see stars. you cum hard enough to have tears leaking again, your hand pulling Kai down harder on your clit before it’s too much and you have to let him go. 

kai pulls away but not before licking you clean leaving you twitching. your pussy was swollen and he couldn’t wait to feel you strangling his cock the second he got it in you. 

“See I told you that you didn’t have to worry,” Yeonjuns light laugh from the phone is followed by a weak moan. “legs up, fold her in half,” 

Kai doesn't follow his orders first, picking up the phone and placing it on your chest. you were already spilling out of your tank so he took the opportunity to tug the straps down and reveal your tits to him. Kai bites his lip before leaning down to give you soft pecks all along your chest. “I didn’t even kiss you first I'm so sorry baby,” he mutters into your neck kissing up your jaw and to your mouth. 

before you can say anything in return his mouth is in yours and you can taste yourself on his tongue. Now with him hovering over you your legs are free to wrap around him. tugging his sweatpants-covered cock closer to your entrance. He moans into your mouth before his large hand takes hold of your breast tweaking your nipple. “huening,” you moan, throwing your head back when he ruts into you. He leans down to latch his lips around your untouched breast, nipping you as he rolls his hips forward again. 

the phone is close to Kai’s mouth and Yeonjuns breathing is labored on the other end. “I can’t wait any longer,” Yeonjun spits into his palm giving himself one loose tug, “I want to hear her cum again,” 

Kai nods even if he can’t be seen over the phone and he pulls away from you tugging off his shirt by the back collar and throwing it behind him. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats, a wet spot where he has been rubbing against you, tugging them down to let his cock slap his stomach. The release makes him moan, knowing just like Yeonjun he couldn’t wait and he needed to hear you moaning again. he wastes no time in tugging your ruined panties down your legs before placing his hands in the pit of your knees and bending you in half like Yeonjun suggested. your ankles are on Kai’s shoulders and he has the perfect view. 

your hair all over the pillows, eyes half-lidded, you had taken over with tugging on your nipples, your tank top now a makeshift belt around your center, phone stuck to your chest from the sheen of sweat you now had. 

you watched Kai drag a hand over his cock, hard and red waiting for you. He almost buckled at the feeling, his free hand wrapping around your thigh to pull you open. “Look at you,” he whispers, taking the tip and dragging it through your wet folds. the sound is loud and Yeonjun chuckles “She sounds ready,” 

but Kai’s not moving to slide into you he’s now back to teasing, running the head of his cock back and forth from your entrance to your clit without enough pressure. you roll your hips whining, “Hyuka please,” he shudders at the nickname before notching the mushroom tip of his cock inside you. it always amazed you how he could fit all of himself in you when before you had always believed you would never be able to take all of him. but he proves you wrong again as he pushes in inch by inch both of you moaning loud enough for Yeonjun to buckle all the way in Chicago. “fuck fuck fuck you sound so good,” he’s trying to go slow with the rhythm he tugs but he can’t keep himself in check the way you do for him. 

kai bottoms out leaning forward and bending you properly in half before burying his nose into your neck to try and catch his breath. 

you can feel him so deep you can’t think straight. his arms hugging your legs to him as he places an open palm over your ribs, the heat of his skin on yours letting you sink into the mattress. kai kisses the swell of your collarbone before pulling out an inch and pushing back in. You whimper at the sensation, weaving your fingers in his dark hair and pulling the strands. both of your boys loved their hair to be played with during sex or just resting next to each other. 

kai pushes himself up placing his free hand next to your head for leverage, holding you still by your side with the other. he pulls out almost all the way and you try to chase him making him giggle, “Patience love I’ll give you more,” he slowly inches in and you hum arching into him. “look at you, how did I get so lucky? hum?” the praise makes you preen and Yeonjun approves, “so willing for us,” he grunts the soft sound of his hand slapping heard. 

kai picks up the pace to match the sound, he's knocking the cradle of your legs, heavy balls matching the beat on your skin. ”deeper,” it’s a throaty ask from your lips but Kai hears you and sinks his hips, elbow bending slightly as his other hand tugs on your tank top using it like a handle. and he goes deeper and you swear you can feel him in your throat, your moan not even sounding like you anymore. kai is now pounding into you finding the heady rhythm Yeonjun set with ease, fucking into you so well that the phone slips from your chest into the crook of your neck pressing the speaker into your ear. Yeonjuns moans are louder making your toes curl your second orgasm building heavy in your stomach. “I want it hyuka please cum in me,” 

Kai’s movements falter at your plea, his arm holding him up buckling from his stutter. “Beg,” Yeonjun mutters knowing exactly what Kai needs, if anything Yeonjun thinks huening has a thing for hearing you beg and whimper and that’s why he holds out so long when it comes to you after you both have overcome your shyness. but jun knows that when you both get to this point in the night Kai needs you to beg for him. 

“Please I can take it,” Kai’s head falls to your ear, his moans in one and Yeonjuns in the other, “please I’ve been good,” 

“no she hasn’t,” Yeonjun groans, “she was looking at dirty pictures in class,” 

Kai almost can’t take the accusation, the trembling in his arm traveling down his spine, he wants to cum, knows it’s going to happen at any moment but he wants you there with him. “p-pictures?” He can hardly get any words out. 

“I wasn’t,” you shake your head before crying out as Kai delivers a powerful thrust. 

“she was and I don’t think she should cum now since she’s denying it,” 

“Yeonjun please,” you have tears threatening to spill. your hand in Kai’s hair pushing him closer to your throat your other one scratching at the back of his neck, “please hyuka I wasn’t, please I want to cum please please pl-“Kai takes his thumb and shoves it into your mouth to quiet you, your tank top now forgotten as you suck his finger. “promise to take it all,” he’s breathless hot air fanning over your skin. 

“I want it please hyuka,” you whine when he takes his thumb back to wedge between the two of you to press on your clit. you jolt at the contact and somehow he sinks deeper between your legs, both of you trying to chase the feeling again. 

you can feel him twitch inside you, the sign he’s about to cum. “junnie?” 

“I’m right there baby,” his breathy moans growing louder by the second. 

Kai presses down on your clit stilling inside you as he cums. his moans pressed into your ear. The heat of him as he gives weak strokes to ride out his high triggers your orgasm right after your head falls back into the pillows, legs shaking as your pussy flutters around Kai. Yeonjun follows right after, his curses stained. 

the room is silent as Kai finally lets his arm go, letting his full weight lay on you. your legs are numb as you feel Kai's light kisses behind your ear. “you did so well,” your happy sigh is enough to make Kai grin against your skin. 

“I made a mess,” Yeonjun mutters, “I wish I had my girl to come lick me clean,” 

“junnie,” the image making you pulse around Kai’s softening cock, it wouldn't be the first time Yeonjun had made you follow the trail he left up his stomach. 

kai finally rises back up letting your legs fall as he pulls out. the steady leak of your combined cum warm and staining the sheets. 

you’re completely limp in the bed as huening moves to grab a wet rag to wipe you up. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow night,” Yeonjuns smile heard over the line. 

“I can’t believe you told Kai I was looking at dirty pictures,” your hand falls over your eyes as you feel huening spread your legs, the warm rag soothing to your heated flesh. 

“you did look at my dirty photo”, 

“It was like a flash bang i wasn’t expecting it while in class,” 

“So you were looking at dirty pictures in class,” Kai laughs, kissing your inner thigh before guiding your legs into a new pair of clean panties. He had already put on new briefs himself before tugging off the soiled comforter to toss in the wash later. He was always so meticulous in picking up after sex where Yeonjun could easily have snuggled in dirty sheets and all. 

“not really,” you sit up to tug your tank top back into place pulling your phone along with you. “just hurry back already, and let’s not bring it up again,”

Kai pulls the spare blanket from the closet before pulling himself under with you. “yeah hyung hurry back the bed feels empty with only the two of us in it,” 

[norrisainz33]

field hockey || GR63

☆ summary: george russell’s girlfriend, y/n, is an olympic (field) hockey player and he’s obsessed with her

☆ pairing: george russell x olympic!reader

☆ fc & warning: lily owsley and slightly suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!! apologies for the delay - thank you sm for taking the time to request 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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alex_albon: when is y/n/n’s next match?

georgerussell63: 2 days! same day as race day🥹

alex_albon: 💔 man i wanted to watch

georgerussell63: you still can! briefly! i will have it on in my garage

ynuser: georgie 😫 i miss you more!!!! also why don’t YOU hurry up and finish racing so you can come to paris????

georgerussell63: i’m working on it baby girl

ynuser: well work harder 😉

georgerussell63: yes ma’am 😍

lilymhe: you can’t rush greatness

georgerussell63: i know you’re right but im going to try anyway

lewishamilton: don’t stress her out mate 😂😂

georgerussell63: oops

yourbff: that’s my girl actually ☝🏻

georgerussell63: not this again 🫠

georgerussell63 has made a post

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georgerussell63: everyone stop what you’re doing - y/n is playing in the olympics today

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user1: george’s account is becoming a fan account for y/n

user2: george aren’t you racing today ??

mercedesamgf1: let’s go y/n! (george please pay attention in the drivers meeting)

georgerussell63: i am paying attention

alex_albon: y/n y/n y/n!!! let’s go!!!

lilymhe: lets gooooooo that’s my best friend!!

ynuser: i 🫶🏻 you both

user3: i thought this was y/n’s post but it’s just george reminding us how much he loves his girl

landonorris: 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

ynuser: 🤍🇬🇧🤍����🇧🤍

user4: rooting for you both today!!!

user5: y/ngeorge for the win!!

mercedesamgf1: it’s race day here in SPA! Join George as he talks race day updates and aspirations and y/n’s olympic campaign.

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user4: george not talking abt y/n challenge failed

user5: i love how much he loves her

georgerussell63: my girl’s about to win!! you all should tune in!!

user16: shouldn’t you be in the car rn george

user63: he’s live tweeting from the garage apparently

mercedesamgf1: george give me your phone now - toto

user7: loving that all this mercedes and george promo is bringing the love the field hockey world deserves

yourbff: yesss georgie educate the masses on the olympic schedule!!!!

georgerussell63: watch 🗣️ gb field hockey 🗣️ now 🗣️

user9: get you a man like george who cares more about talking about your success than his own

user10: i want them to be my mom and dad

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user6: girl did you even step off the field yet ?

georgerussell63: my woman my woman my woman. i fcking love you

ynuser: i love you more my race winner

georgerussell63: simply not possible my olympic field hockey game winner

ynuser: i can’t wait to kiss your cute face

georgerussell63: sprinting away from media duties and to the jet to get to paris rn

ynuser: literally counting down the minutes

user56: a winning day for y/n/n and georgie

yourbff: a couple who wins together stays together

ynuser: 😭😭 winning on the same day hit like nothing else

yourbff: so proud of you both bb 🤍

mercedesamgf1: absolutely amazing result for you both. so so so happy for you y/n ❤️

ynuser: thank you admin ily

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landonorris: gross

georgerussell63: if you think this is gross you should’ve seen what we did after

landonorris: i hate you

alex_albon: now you can finally stop crying about missing her!

georgerussell63: yes! until the next time we are apart that is

llyzneimer: my baby girl, give her back to me

georgerussell63: never! she is mine!

lilyzneimer: didn’t anyone ever teach you to share?

georgerussell63: nope!

ynuser: hot

georgerussell63: oh yea 😏

lewishamilton: send her my best

georgerussell63: she sends it right back and she says she wants to see roscoe asap

lewishamilton: roscoe would love a play date 🤍

yourbff: stop distracting her from playing hockey

georgerussell63: i am NOT distracting her ☝🏻

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ynuser: not the way i would have hoped our time at the olympics would have ended. we gave it everything we had and for that i am so incredibly proud. there’s always next time!! thank you to everyone for the outpouring of support and love - i hope you’ve been inspired to keep watching field hockey!! thank you to my friends, my coaches, my teammates, my family and most of all george for enabling this dream to come true. see you next time paris 🤍🇬🇧

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user23: 4th is still impressive you gorgeous hockey queen

user44: thanks for introducing us to the incredible game of field hockey y/n

user54: no like fr i had no idea how fun the sport was!!! everyone say thank you y/n!

user64: thank you y/n

user74: thanks y/n/n

ynuser: you are so welcome 🫶🏻

georgerussell63: you’re an olympian y/n/n and no one can take that away from you, medal or not. you have inspired me and so many others. i love you y/n ❤️

ynuser: i love you mr russell 🥹

user45: we are proud of you mother

landonorris: great effort y/n! proud that you’re out there representing team 🇬🇧

ynuser: thank you lan

user33: still my favorite olympian

roscoelovescoco: prouds of yous my friends 😘

ynuser: i needed this thank you 😭

user35: can’t wait for the next olympics for you to eat it up and win gold

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user46: hoping you both enjoy your break!!

user87: are you guys just gonna get married yet or what

yourbff: enjoy italy!! love you both 🤍

ynuser: 🤍🤍pasta🤍🤍

mercedesamgf1: much needed rest and recovery time 🫶🏻

teamgb: until next time 🏑🇬🇧

georgerussell63: blue is your color

ynuser: so is gold 😏

georgerussell63: oh i know 💍

user78: that dress is to die for tf

roscoelovescoco: stops by and sees me pls

ynuser: will do ❤️

lilyzneimer: enjoy pretty girl

ynuser: can’t wait to see you and osc 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated!! this concludes my olympic reader series. appreciate all of you reading 🥹

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[cookiescribble]

Choose Me, Love Me

A/N: oops got a little more angsty than usual 😬 i had this in my head for a while and finally was able to write it, so I hope it came out well! (also I have no idea how guns work but i’m just going to pretend that i do for the sake of the plot 😅) - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your temper runs high after a miscommunication during a case, making you feel like your relationship is in trouble. (based on 1x18)

CW: angst (that gets resolved), anxiety, jealousy.

~~~

It had been a long day. 

You came to check on Spencer when you had a lull in your schedule, since you knew he was the only one in charge of watching the victim. You figured he might be having a hard time with babysitting duty. 

Instead, you came in to find the house completely empty. This immediately gave you an uneasy feeling, so you took out your gun as a precaution. It was currently loaded with blanks, since you didn’t want to shoot the victim as a knee-jerk reaction if you were surprised. 

You cautiously walked through the house, a feeling of dread creeping through you. Eventually, you found the backyard doors wide open, and you approached them tentatively. You saw movement in the pool, but you didn’t have time to feel relieved that everyone was alive and safe. 

You saw Spencer, in the pool, being pulled in by his tie, looking like he was about to kiss the woman he was in charge of protecting. 

You felt a surge of emotions so intense you couldn’t even identify all of them; anger? Jealousy? Resentment? Anguish? Heartache? Whatever you were feeling, it wasn’t good. 

You couldn’t even rationalize yourself before acting; it was almost as if your body was moving on its own, since your mind was overloaded with emotions. Suddenly you were pulling out your gun, shooting a blank right at the edge of the pool, away from the both of them but close enough to make them jump. 

They practically jumped out of their skin in fright, probably thinking the unsub had come while they weren’t paying attention. They turned to look at you, your gun still pointed at the pool. A mix of confusion and annoyance was on the girl’s face, but Spencer looked practically petrified, his eyes wide and remorseful. 

You looked at both of them before you spoke, spitting out venom with each word because of how angry you were at that moment. “You’re lucky the unsub isn’t here. You would both be dead before you could even react.” With that, you just turned to walk away, striding back into the house. 

You heard Spencer calling your name, his voice strained and emotional. You didn’t turn back to look at him. You couldn’t. You had to hold your breath to stop yourself from sobbing. 

You heard Derek and Elle approaching from outside the yard, saying something about finding paparazzi taking pictures in the bushes. You heard their voices quickly getting quieter and quieter as you were angrily striding away, but you could still hear their confusion. 

“What’s wrong with her?” You heard Elle ask. “What the hell did you do? She’s pissed.”

You heard footsteps starting to follow you before they were cut off, and you could picture Derek putting a hand on Spencer��s chest when he said. “Kid, I know you don’t know women that well, so let me tell you: do not follow her right now.”

“But-“ Spencer’s voice came out shaky, agonized. “I have to talk to her-“

“No, you don’t,” Derek cut him off. “Not right now. You’re only going to make things worse. You can’t rationalize your way through that kind of anger.”

You guessed his words got through to Spencer, since you didn’t hear anyone following you after that. 

You strode through the house until you reached the car you drove here in, getting in the driver’s seat and slamming the door behind you. You ran a shaky hand through your hair, trying to calm yourself before hitting your hands once against the steering wheel. You put your head in your hands, biting your tongue to keep yourself from yelling. You couldn’t even cry; all your thoughts were jumbled in your head, your heart thrumming so hard in your chest you thought it was going to burst out of it. 

You sat in that purgatory of emotions, sometimes letting out tearless sobs, wanting to scream but having the slightest self control and just containing the sound to sobs. After what felt like a very long time, you heard your cell phone go off, indicating you have a text. You pulled it out of your pocket and looked at the screen:

HOTCH: Come to the station. Now. 

You huffed, throwing your phone in the passenger seat before starting the car. I guess word got back to Hotch already, you thought. 

You tried to compose yourself on the drive back to the station, attempting to figure out some kind of excuse for why you shouldn’t be fired. Hopefully you didn’t have to resort to begging. 

You walked through the station, trying to keep an even pace and a level head. But every time you remembered what you saw, you were filled with anger all over again. By the time you got to the door, your emotions were at a loud simmer. 

Hotch was sitting at a table in a closed off room, looking up at you as you walked in, his face as stoic as always. He gestured to a chair across the table from him. “Sit.”

You closed the door behind you, swallowing and taking a deep breath. This felt like being called into the principal’s office and being grounded by your parents at the same time. 

You took your seat across from Hotch, crossing your legs, trying to compose yourself as he spoke directly. “Care to explain yourself?”

You gritted your teeth as you remembered what happened, the anger making your blood boil all over again. “I went to check out the situation. They were being careless, so I wanted to show them that they needed to be more careful.” You tried your best to keep your voice level, but there was still a hint of animosity. 

“They were being careless?” He raised an eyebrow at you, his voice stern. “You don’t think firing a gun that close to an agent and a victim is just as, if not more, careless?”

You flared your nostrils, angry and ashamed all at once. “I fired a blank-“

“And that’s the only reason  why you’re not fired right now,” he cut you off. “I should be writing a termination letter right now, and I would be if there were real bullets in that gun.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms. “They were out in the open while the unsub, who I don’t think I have to mention has been shooting people in the head, was out looking for the victim. I was trying to protect them.”

He looked at you the whole time you spoke, boring holes into your face. You didn’t even think he blinked this whole time. 

His voice was still stern, but it was now a bit quieter. “Really? Are you sure this is about the safety of the victim, and not your personal relationship?”

You let out a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. The team had recently found out about your relationship with Spencer, so there was no avoiding this question. “No,” you lied. “It’s not personal. All professional.” There was no point in lying; he’d be able to see right through you. But you couldn’t admit to your boss that you were tempted to shoot a victim because she put her hands on your boyfriend. 

Hotch’s expression never changed, but you could tell he didn’t believe you. “I don’t want you out in the field for the rest of this case.” He held out his hand, and he didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was asking you to give him your gun. 

You reached for your holster and placed the gun in his hand, more forcefully than you should’ve. “Can I go now?”

He started to stand up, but spoke sternly before he did. “This is a job that cannot let actions be clouded by personal feelings. Your judgment needs to be impartial and professional, and not dictated by emotions. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded curtly, letting out a deep breath before replying, “Crystal.”

He nodded back at you, standing up and motioning towards the door. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

You walked out the door, rubbing your face with your hands, the stress from the day making your whole body tense. 

You started to walk towards the exit when you heard a voice addressing you. “So, how screwed are you?”

You looked over to see Elle, who probably eavesdropped on most, if not all, of the conversation. You sighed, shaking your head. “Well, I still have a job. That’s about the only good thing that has happened today.”

She leaned on the wall, crossing her arms. “Why’d you do that? What happened?”

You buried your face in your hand, feeling the surge of anger again. You didn’t even try to hide it this time. “I went to the house because I figured Spence could use some help, or at least some company. But when I got there, that… that…” You bit your tongue, stopping yourself from calling her every bad name you could think of. “She was all over him, and if I didn’t do something she would’ve kissed him.” You sucked in a breath, feeling like tears were going to start coming if you didn’t hold your breath. 

She nodded, waiting for you to finish before speaking. “And? Would it really be the end of the world if that happened? Just a little kiss?”

You crossed your arms, your nails digging into your skin. “I just… I couldn’t let it happen. She’s this gorgeous Hollywood model, actress, whatever. If she’s interested in him, why would he want to be with me?” A sob escaped your lips involuntarily as you admit what’s been in the back of your head this whole time. “And I really don’t want that to happen, because… I love him.”

“Have you told him that?” She asked, her voice light but serious. 

You paused before shaking your head. Your relationship with Spencer was still relatively new, and you hadn’t exchanged “I love you”s yet, even though you felt it every time you looked at him

“I think it’s time you do, then,” she replied. “If it’s this important to you.”

You just nodded, knowing she was right. You wanted to tell him for a while now, but you were scared. Scared of your own feelings, of his potential reaction… everything. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I… have to go back to the hotel. I’m gonna take some time alone to think.”

She waved you off, nodding, and you finally walked back to your car, knowing you needed to sort this all out in your head. 

…

You were lying down on the hotel bed, alone with your thoughts all day, and you hadn’t heard anything about the case from anybody. You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten when you heard a soft, familiar knock on the door. 

You held your breath, hoping that he would go away if you didn’t answer. You sat in darkness for a while, ignoring when he asked to come in. Finally, you heard a click in the door and you cursed silently, forgetting you had given Spencer a key to your room when you got here. 

You couldn’t look at him, opting instead to look at the wall opposite him. His footsteps were slow and careful, as if he were approaching a rabid animal. “… Please,” he started, his voice quiet and meek. “Just let me explain what happened today.”

You crossed your arms, still looking away from him. You knew he was making those big, pleading eyes at you, and you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing that right now. You kept silent, but you didn’t make him leave. 

He saw that as a good sign, and approached you, sitting at the edge of the other side of the bed. “Listen, nothing happened between us.” He spoke quietly, his voice level but sincere. “I didn’t know what was happening. I was panicking, trying to think of how to politely turn her down, but everything was happening so fast and I…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath. “… I messed up. I admit that. But I didn’t mean to.”

You listened to his voice, which somehow still sounded like music to your ears even though his words were filled with remorse. You just stayed still, taking everything in, not trusting yourself enough to try to respond. 

He tried to move into your line of sight, standing in front of you, but you kept your head down. 

“… I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I’m so sorry. You have every right to be angry with me, just…” His tone was so dejected, and you could tell he was truly pouring his heart out. “… Please, look at me.”

You took a deep breath, slowly picking your head up and meeting his eyes. He was making the exact face you expected, his big, sad eyes silently begging you to say something. 

You tried to search for any words to say, but they all got caught in your throat. Your lip started to quiver as a tear finally fell from your eye. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath. “I…” you started, shaking your head as if that would put all your thoughts in order. “I don’t…”

You opened your eyes to look at him again, and you could feel all your anger crumbling, disappearing all at once. Which only made it feel worse. His somber eyes made your heart ache, and you just couldn’t be the cause of them anymore. After a pause, you patted the seat next to you, and he moved to you immediately, like a puppy commanded to sit. 

You took a deep breath, looking down. “… I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, obviously. I was way over the line.” You wrung your hands together, staring at them as if they were the most interesting scenery right now. “I just, seeing you with her… I felt like all my fears were coming true. That you wanted someone else… someone better than me.” Tears started rolling down your cheeks now. “I know I’m not as pretty as her, and I thought, why would you ever want me if someone like that is within reach?” You rubbed your eyes, shaking your head. “I never thought I could feel jealousy like that, but… every bad thought I’ve ever had about myself came rushing through my head, and I thought for sure I was going to lose you.” You swallowed hard, finally looking at him again, letting the words roll off your tongue before you could take them back. “And I couldn’t bear it, because… I love you.” 

You could hear his breath hitch, bracing yourself. For what? Something bad? Something good? 

He looked straight into your eyes, his hand tilting your chin up towards him. “I love you too,” he spoke, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life. “And I would never replace you with anyone. You’ll never need to be jealous. I barely even gave her a second glance, and I only did because I had to protect her. It’s my job.” He wiped a tear off your cheek, his touch gentle and slow. “If I thought she was going to come onto me, I would’ve asked somebody else to go to the house.”

You could finally breathe again, the tears in your eyes now happy ones after hearing his words, a confession of love. You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, and he pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice radiating such warmth and affection. 

“I love you,” you said again, as if testing the sound it made, like tuning an instrument. It sounded better each time you said it. 

You just sat there in each others’ arms for a while, neither of you speaking a word, just letting the feelings sink in. After a while, once all the tension faded, you both pulled back, looking at each other and smiling. 

After another few moments, you spoke lightheartedly. “I’m really glad you feel the same way, because I definitely almost got fired over this.”

He laughed softly, slight concern in his eyes. “But you didn’t, right? I still get to see you at work every day?”

“We’ll see,” you responded. “Hotch said we have to talk again, so… I’m not out of the woods yet.”

He hugged you to his chest, a hand running through your hair. “I can vouch for you. Maybe it’ll help.”

You smiled at the affectionate touch, leaning into it. “How about you talk to him, and I just skip it altogether?”

He shook his head, a playful smile on his face. “I love you, but I can’t perform miracles.” 

You stayed together the rest of the night, even sleeping in the same room even though you never did that when you were out on a case. It was like you didn’t want to be apart now that you both understood your feelings better. You felt like you could get through anything together now. 

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 7)

summary: you and hugh navigate the new aspects of your relationship while filming continues, and it includes consistent gym sessions. meanwhile, someone from your past reaches out to you. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: bit of angst / smut (18+), implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), brief insecurity and mention of age gap, smut (public sex - in the gym oops!, unprotected p in v, oral - m receiving) no use of y/n. word count: 3.7k a/n: and we're back with these two in the gym! i just love writing hugh in the gym as it's the only way i can live out my fantasies of ever meeting him in the gym myself lol. hope y'all enjoy - we're gonna slowly transition into some angst... so stay tuned! this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

You’re looking down at your phone, staring at the picture Hugh posted last night of the both of you. You can see the comments and have read quite a handful already. You know what to expect, but it still doesn’t lessen the hurt that you feel in the pit of your stomach when you glance over the negative comments. 

And most, if not all, mention the age gap. It had never been an issue to either of you, but now that other people have taken notice, you can’t help but wonder if Hugh thinks the same. 

He’s calling out to you, a bag slung over his shoulder as he’s dressed in a navy blue tank top and shorts. You’re both scheduled to meet with Ryan and Shawn at the gym for a quick session before filming continues tomorrow. You had jumped at the chance to join them, yearning to be at the gym and get a good workout in. 

“Hey, you ready to go?” he asks, extending a hand out for you to take. 

You nod and take his hand, dressed in a pair of leggings and one of his t-shirts. You lace your fingers with his instantly, following him out of the hotel room and towards the hotel’s gym. Your mind weighs heavily on the comments you read earlier, glancing over in his direction to see if maybe he’s seen the comments too. 

But if it bothers him, he doesn’t show it. 

Hugh smiles down at you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to his side. He presses a soft kiss on your temple and holds you close to him, hand running along your arm. 

“I love you,” he whispers. 

You bite your lower lip, smiling to yourself. It just feels like everything that had been bothering you that morning disappears at his words, at the look on his face. 

“I love you too,” you reply, leaning up to kiss his cheek. 

“You doing okay?” Hugh asks. 

You nod, though you know that he would be able to see right through you. When you both stop at the doors of the hotel gym, he brings a hand up to rest on your cheek. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Just thinking, that’s all.” 

“About last night? About what I said?”

You shake your head immediately. “No, no. Not that. Just–” you sigh. “I saw the comments on the picture and I know what to expect, but it doesn’t mean that it hurts any less. Reading what they have to say about this, about us… I know it shouldn’t matter, but it does.”

Hugh nods in understanding, sighing quietly. He’s learned to drown out the comments, to pay no attention to it, but he’d be lying if he said that there are times where it still gets to him. He wishes he can shield you from it, to protect you from all the bad in the world, but he knows that isn’t possible. He just hopes that it doesn’t deter you from this, from him. 

“Does our age gap bother you?” you blurt out. 

Hugh’s eyes furrow in confusion and he shakes his head. “No, it never did.” he brushes his thumb across your cheek before he drops his hand back to his side. “Does it– Does it bother you?”

“No,” you answer instantly. “I just saw some comments and–”

“Baby,” Hugh sighs quietly. “There will always be comments about this, about you and me… But I promise that it doesn’t mean a thing to me. All that matters is that you’re here with me,” he says softly. “You’re all that matters.” 

You sigh and nod in agreement. “I know… And I know that this is the price you have to pay for being in the public eye. I’ll try to ignore all the outside noise.” 

“What you’re feeling though is valid, baby.” Hugh reassures. “I just want you to know that I love you, that isn’t going to change.” 

“I love you too, you whisper, standing on your toes to peck his lips. “We should probably head inside. I’m sure Shawn and Ryan are already waiting for you.” 

Hugh nods. “We’ll talk more later, okay? And if you need someone to spot you, you know who to ask.” 

You smile. “Yeah, my training partner,” you wink.

“Damn right,” Hugh grins. 

—

Luckily, your trainer had sent you a workout routine while you’ve been gone. Hugh had gone off to workout with Shawn and Ryan at the other end of the gym and just like always, your eyes drift over to him repeatedly when he begins to curl the dumbbells, his biceps flexing. 

You had just finished your dynamic stretching when you take note of the heavy bag at the corner of the room. You smile to yourself in excitement and begin to wrap your hands and then sliding on your boxing gloves. Your music is blasting in your ears and it provides just enough of a distraction that you remain focused solely on the bag in front of you. 

With every exhale, you deliver a quick jab and cross to the bag, staying light on your feet. 

Hugh’s eyes immediately move over to you, eyes widening at the sight of you. He had no idea that you could move around the way you do and hit the bag like you are doing now. There’s something in the way you move, the way you hit the bag with precision that makes Hugh excited. Seeing you like this in a completely different element in the gym turns him on and he tries not to think about taking you in the bathroom and–

“Hugh, you’re up,” Shawn says, pointing towards the bench. 

“Oh,” Ryan grins. “Someone’s a little distracted,” he winks. “You never told us she could box.”

“I actually didn’t know,” Hugh mumbles. “She never told me.” He moves to lie back on the bench, head lifting just slightly to look at you. You had taken a break, eyes locking with his and you grin. It takes everything in Hugh to not just end the workout early and take you back to the room. 

“She’s actually pretty good,” Shawn points out with a chuckle. “Now, come on and finish your set, Hugh.” 

You take a long break to watch Hugh continue to press the weight above his chest. You bite your lower lip, eyes taking in his frame and his muscles flexing with each movement. You hear the timer go off, indicating that your rest is over. You wait until he sits up, eyes once more locking onto yours and he winks. 

God, he’s thinking the same thing you are. 

Turning back around, you continue to finish the rest of your round with punches and hooks, not realizing how much you need to hit something to get rid of the lingering thoughts that remain. 

When the final round is over, you see Hugh approach you, already drenched in sweat. He rests his hand on your lower back, gently pressing a kiss on your temple as he whispers quietly. 

“You continue to surprise me, baby.” 

“Yeah?” you ask, turning to look up at him. 

“You never told me that you could… do that,” he says, pointing to your gloves and then the heavy bag. “Since when?” 

You let out a quiet laugh and remove the gloves, setting it back in your bag as you move a hand to rest on his chest. “Been doing it for a few years now,” you answer. 

“You’re good,” Hugh’s voice lowers, eyes gazing at your entire frame. “You look good doing it too.”

You feel the heat in your cheeks as you bite your lower lip. “Been staring at me, huh?” 

“You’re distracting,” he grins. “Thought we already established this.”

You roll your eyes playfully and lean up to press your lips lightly on his. “Could say the same about you. I just want to bite down on these arms,” you tease, hand moving from his chest to run along his bicep. 

Hugh flexes instinctively, hearing you let out a quiet gasp. He smiles to himself as his hand on your lower back lowers until it rests innocently on your backside. “You still have the rest of your workout to do?” he asks, eyes darkening with lust and want. 

“Yeah,” you reply, biting your lower lip. “That was just my warmup and–”

“Take a long rest with me?” he interrupts. 

“Shawn and Ryan are literally waiting for you, baby.”

“They can wait,” Hugh says, head dipping lower until he brushes his lips across the side of your neck. “Or they can just continue the workout without me. I don’t need to workout. I’m already fit for the role and–”

“Okay,” you interrupt. “Should we go back to the room or–”

“Bathroom.” 

“The bathroom? Wait, are you serious?” 

Hugh nods and brings you flush against his front so that you could feel the bulge beneath his shorts. “Very serious, baby. I need you now,” he whispers. 

You nod quickly and then pull away only briefly to unravel the hand wraps, setting it back into your duffle bag. “I’ll meet you in there then.” 

Hugh smiles and leans down to peck your lips. “See you in a bit, baby.” 

You quickly hurry to the bathroom down the hall, stepping inside as you bite your lower lip. It’s small, but spacious enough that Hugh wouldn’t feel too cramped. 

Hugh then turns to Shawn and Ryan who are both looking at him with a knowing grin. “Yeah, yeah, we got it. Just keep it down,” Ryan chuckles. 

“Just continue the workout without me and if you guys finish before–” 

“Before you do,” Ryan winks. “Don’t worry, Hugh. We’ll probably leave after this set.”

Hugh nods, “Thanks, mate. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Then, he turns on his heel and makes his way down the hallway. He knocks on the door and sees you open it. He grins to himself and steps inside, an arm snaking around your waist immediately as he shuts the door and locks it behind him. 

“Hi,” you giggle, arms moving to wrap around his shoulders. “Missed you.”

“Hi, baby,” he grins, leaning down and beginning to pepper kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck. Hugh’s hands move down to grasp your backside in his large hands, squeezing each cheek as he brings you flush against him. “Missed you. Need you,” he mumbles. 

“You got me,” you whisper, letting out a quiet whimper as you feel his hardened length press further against your midsection. Gently, you rest your hands on his chest and push him away from you. He furrows a brow at you, back resting against the wall. He’s about to say something, about to ask if you’re okay, but you drop to your knees in front of him. “Let me take care of you.”

“Baby, you don’t have to,” he mumbles. His eyes flutter when you bring your hands to tug down his shorts and boxers, letting the articles of clothing pool at his ankles. Hugh lets out a sigh of relief and he reaches down to grasp his base, tugging on it a few times before he feels your lips wrap around his tip. “Fuck,” he whispers. 

You slowly push his hand away and replace it with your own as you suck the head of his length, feeling the taste of his precome on your tongue. You feel his large hand rest on the back of your head, urging you to take more of him. You happily oblige, lowering yourself to take more of his throbbing length into your mouth. You can taste his sweat and precome mixing in with your saliva as you begin to bob your head. 

“Baby,” Hugh whimpers, trying to pull you away from him. “I won’t be able to last long if you keep– Ah, fuck me,” he groans, feeling you take him whole. The tip of his length hits the back of your throat and he hears you gag quietly against him.

You then pull away from him, smiling up in his direction. Your hand slowly strokes the base of his manhood, lips brushing against his swollen tip. 

“Alright, baby,” Hugh groans, gently lifting you to your feet. He brings you to stand in front of the mirror above the sink as he moves behind you. You rest your hands on the edge of the sink as Hugh kicks your legs apart and roughly tugs your leggings and panties down your legs. Gently, he rests a hand on your lower back and sees your slickened sex. He lines himself up at your opening and slowly thrusts inside, your walls warm and tight encompassing him inch and by inch. 

You try to hold back your moan, trying to remain quiet as your hands grip the edge of the sink tightly. Hugh grips your hips, pulling you back onto him as he groans to himself. You always feel so good around him; he doesn’t think he’d ever get tired of this, of you. 

When he fills you to the hilt, Hugh gently pulls you to stand upright against him. He brings his arm around your waist, hand sliding up your abdomen as he reaches up to grip your breast into the pit of his palm. 

“Hugh,” you moan, biting your lower lip to keep the noise down. Hugh makes it difficult, his hips snapping against yours from behind followed by his hand kneading your breast. It’s a mixture of sensations and his free hand comes down between your legs, fingers finding your bundle of nerves. 

“Hugh, oh god, I–” he delivers a sharp thrust, which elicits a loud moan to leave your lips. He smirks to himself, hand moving from your breast to cover your mouth. Hugh’s lips hover near your ear, grunting quietly against you.

“Shh, baby,” he groans. “Don’t want anyone to hear us…”

“Fuck me,” you moan against his hand, gently biting down on him to keep yourself quiet. 

“I am, baby,” Hugh growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as his other hand quickens its movements on your clit, rubbing you in circles. He feels your body begin to tremble against him, your walls quivering around his length. He knows you’re close and so, he quickens the pace of his thrusts. While he was trying to keep you quiet, his movements make it very clear and very obvious what you’re both doing in the bathroom. 

His skin slaps against yours and he can hear the loud squelching with each thrust. You’re so wet that it dampens the hair at his base. The sounds are so obscene that anyone in the gym can hear exactly what’s going on; he just hopes that Shawn and Ryan had left and no one was in the gym except for the both of you.

“Hugh!” you matter against his hand, moving your own to reach down to grip his forearm. You push back against him, feeling the tip of his manhood kiss your cervix. It’s enough to push you over the edge, your body shaking against him. 

Hugh doesn’t last long as he usually does after you reach your orgasm because he delivers another couple of thrusts before he releases deep inside of you. He drops his hands to your hips, holding you flush against him as his eyes flutter closed. Hugh rests his forehead against the back of your shoulder, chest heaving as he pants heavily. 

“God, I love you so much,” he whispers. 

You smile, involuntarily squeezing your walls around him before you feel him pull out. You slowly turn in his arms and bring your hands to his cheeks, lightly pecking his lips. “I think I’m spent,” you laugh quietly. 

“I’d say it was a good gym session, what do you think?” Hugh’s eyes lower down to your legs, seeing his release slowly drip down and out of you. He watches you reach down to gather his release on your fingertips, bringing it to your lips and sucking the remnants of it. 

You grin up at him, eyes gazing into his. “Yummy.”

Hugh growls. “You’re naughty.”

“Only you can bring out this side of me,” you admit. 

“Good,” Hugh smirks. “Only me.” 

“We should head back to the hotel room and clean up,” you smile. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. But I’m not done with you yet, baby.” 

—

Throughout the week, you continue to come to set with Hugh. Each night, you spend a good hour editing the pictures you’ve taken for the day. You find a good routine with your schedule, even going so far as to scheduling a few engagement photoshoots. 

You continue to go to the gym with Hugh and most of the time, you’re both distracted by each other that it feels like neither of you get anything done. 

And as the weeks go by, Hugh continues to take more and more pictures of you and the both of you together. The comments about the age gap still exist, but they lessen overtime when his fans see how happy Hugh is. You’ve also learned how to pay no attention to the comments either.

The love you have for Hugh only gets stronger as each day passes. Hugh takes every chance he gets to tell you that he loves you, that he’s crazy about you and you never have to wonder how he’s feeling about you, or about this relationship. Since you’ve been with him, you find that Hugh has shown you a love that you deserve, a relationship that’s healthy. 

There’s a weeklong break that the cast and crew get before continuing to film and you take this time to spend as much uninterrupted time as you can with Hugh. Now that your relationship with him is out in the open, you no longer need to hide it and it feels so freeing to be able to hold his hand in public, kiss his cheek or give him a hug without worrying about getting caught. 

You finally feel like things are falling into place, like you’re finally finding your way back to yourself. 

Hugh’s in the shower when your phone rings. You reach for it and don’t bother to look at the contact number before answering. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

Your heart drops and you pull the phone from your ear to see the contact number listed. It’s an unknown caller, which makes sense because you had originally blocked his number from your phone after the breakup. 

“Jack, what are you–”

“I miss you,” he interrupts. “I see that you’ve moved on pretty quickly after our relationship. Are you happy?” 

You stand up and move outside to the balcony, leaning against the railing as you fidget with your fingers. “You shouldn’t be calling me.” 

“I shouldn’t have ended things,” he sighs from the other end of the call. “I’ve done a lot of thinking and–”

“No,” you interrupt. “You don’t get to come back into my life and say all these things.” You’re so focused on the call that you don’t hear Hugh step out with you.

He can see how tense you are, how your body is beginning to tremble with unshed tears. You’re beginning to fidget and pace back and forth, so he reaches out gently to rest a hand on your lower back. When you turn around to face him, he notices the look and expression you have. You’re visibly upset, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks, and your breathing picks up. 

“Who is it?” he mouths.

“Don’t call me again,” you say to the person on the other end. “I mean it.” 

Ending the call, you toss your phone onto the small table and immediately wrap your arms around Hugh. Once you feel his strong arms envelope you, you begin to cry silently into his chest. He rubs your back, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Baby, what’s going on?” Hugh whispers. 

You shake your head, just wanting to hold onto him and forget the conversation you just had with your ex-boyfriend. The same ex-boyfriend who you had a toxic relationship with. The same ex-boyfriend who you had given up everything for and didn’t get anything in return. 

“Jack– He–” you pull back, hiccuping in between sobs. “He called me and–”

Hugh’s brows lift upwards as he reaches up to wipe your tears away. “What– What did he say?” 

You can’t even bring yourself up to say it. Instead, you just shake your head and look up at him. “Can we stay in today? I’m sorry. I know that we had plans…”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Hugh interrupts. “Come on.” He brings you back inside the room and lies down on the bed, pulling you immediately into his arms. “Whenever you’re ready, we can talk about it. I’m here to listen.” 

“I told him that I’m happy with you, that I’m in love and–” you bite your lower lip, clutching Hugh so tightly that you’re afraid to let go. “He just said some hurtful things and maybe– Maybe it’s true, but I just…” 

Hugh tightens his jaw. He feels frustrated and angry for you, that this man still had the audacity to come back into your life and treat you the way he does. He reaches down and cups your cheek, gently pecking your lips. “Hey,” he whispers. “They’re not true. Whatever he said, they aren’t true.” 

“He’s here,” you blurt out. “Maybe I should go back home. Back to New York, and–”

“No.” Hugh interjects. “You’re staying right here with me. With Shawn, with Ryan.” 

“But–”

“No,” Hugh repeats. “I’m not going to let this man think he has this much control over you, d’ya hear me, baby?”

“Hugh–”

Hugh shakes his head. “He doesn’t get to hurt you again. I’m not gonna let him. You’re with me, baby.” 

You don’t respond, your mind already drifting to the things that Jack said. You hate that he has so much authority over you, how one simple conversation can flip a switch in you. You look up at Hugh, taking note of the seriousness in his features, the concern in his eyes. You love him so much, you truly do, but maybe Jack’s right. Maybe Hugh does deserve better than you would ever be able to give him. 

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill

[sincerelyriize]

cotton candy | p.wb

“so we just have sex to solve all our problems”

💿now playing: cotton candy by yungblud

❯ summary: Your boyfriend, Wonbin, is so fucking stubborn that he never knows when, how or why he should apologise. Good thing he’s good at hot, sweaty make-up sex though.

❯ pairings: wonbin x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, angst, smut

❯ words: 1.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, make-up sex, pretty arguing for like a second, wonbin is insufferably stubborn, mention of marking, unprotected sex, lowkey a toxic dynamic oops

an: this fic has absolutely nothing to do with cotton candy, or the song really lol, i was just inspired by this one lyric.

Park Wonbin is stubborn—but not as stubborn as you.

He never thought he’d meet someone who could rival him in that department, let alone end up dating them. It’s a mess, really. Maybe even toxic. Because while he loves every single part of you, when the two of you argue, it’s like fire meeting fire.

It gets nasty. Personal. Downright vicious. Honestly, your friends can’t figure out how you’ve lasted this long—especially since neither of you ever wants to be the first to back down. Apologising? Yeah, no.

Wonbin doesn’t apologise.

But this time, he really should.

It started the same, always does, over something petty like the dishes, or jealousy or when he works long hours and forgets to schedule you in but always seems to have time for the boys. That last one was oddly specific because it’s the exact reason you’ve been screaming at each other in his apartment for the past twenty minutes.

You’d jabbed at his chest with your finger and he’d swatted it away. The fury in his eyes lit aflame, and you weren’t sure you saw an end in sight.

But then he said it.

“If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

That was the end. Because stubborn might as well have been your middle name, and you were ready to make good on his threat—if only his apartment wasn’t so far from yours.

“Fine, I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”

“Fine,” he spat.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed off to the bedroom, your footsteps heavy with anger. You didn’t bother slamming the door—too cliché—but the sharp click of it shutting was enough to drive your point home.

You busied yourself with grabbing whatever you’d brought over—a spare set of clothes, your charger, a few toiletries—but the more you moved around the room, the more frustrated you became. Your hands shook as you stuffed items into your bag, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from yelling.

Yelling would give him too much satisfaction, and satisfaction was the last thing you wanted to give him right now.

You throw yourself onto the bed, glaring up at the ceiling. The covers feel cold, they always do when he’s not there to cuddle you asleep, not that you’d want that right now, you’d technically just broken up—maybe—ugh, you don’t know. He’s too complicated to work out.

Instead, you curl up on your side, the pillow barely softening the tension in your neck. And sleep doesn’t come easily—your mind replays every word, every jab, and that final, infuriating sentence: “If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

Asshole.

Hours pass, the silence of the apartment punctuated only by the occasional creak of the floorboards and the low hum of the city outside. Your phone screen glares at you from the nightstand, but you ignore it. You weren’t about to scroll through social media for comfort—not tonight.

The doorknob turns with a faint click, and the door opens just enough for him to slip inside. The soft rustle of his clothes and the weight of his footsteps tell you exactly who it is.

You don’t move. Don’t look. Just stay still, pretending to be asleep.

And then the bed dips—but it’s not like you can be mad—this is his house, his room, his bed.

Just…why did he have to be so goddamn stubborn? You’re not going to apologise. You’ve done nothing wrong.

And like you said, Wonbin doesn’t apologise either.

Well…not verbally, at least.

Because within minutes, the shift in the mattress goes from tentative to deliberate. His hand slides across your waist, pulling you flush against him, and before you can even protest, he’s pressing into you—pinning you to the bed, his actions saying everything his pride won’t.

Because when Wonbin knows he’s wrong, he’s bad with words. Instead his body moves against yours, wordlessly pleading for forgiveness the only way he knows how—telling you he regrets what he did.

This is the exact reason he doesn’t apologise. Why should he when he can just fuck you silly and make up?

It’s always from the back after you fight, and you’ve come to understand that it’s because Wonbin doesn’t want to look into your eyes and see any lingering hurt. He's not supposed to be the one that hurts you, he hates it actually.

His hands wrap around your wrists, smashing your palms against the mattress as his slender frame rubs against your back, allowing you to feel every inch of his hot, sweat-soaked skin as he thrusts.

His face finds his favourite place, buried in your nape, because there’s something so possessive about it; and he needs to mark it because he doesn’t want you to leave. He might have said it, yes, but he didn’t mean it. You have to know he didn't mean it.

Your nails dig into the sheets as he licks and sucks, leaving his signature purple love bites across your flesh. You practically mewel into the pillow you’re chewing on when he dips between your shoulder blades and marks there too.

He’s really drilling it home, and you can feel all of the passion and love he has for you poured into his fucking, but it’s almost not enough.

It’s too easy. He’s too easy to forgive considering he hasn’t muttered the word ‘sorry’ since you met him.

But as you turn around to try and even attempt to reprimand him, one look at the crimson tint on his pale complexion and the heavy lidded haze on his eyes has you clenching around his cock. And then the fucker had to go and whimper, the sound so faint and vunberable it was impossible to be mad at him.

“Binnie—” you moan, arching your back to give him a better angle, pushing yourself into his fervent rutting.

Your head rolls against your shoulders, tilting back, needing a better look of him. His unruly black hair damp and sticking to his own face, his lip chewed from biting down. He nuzzles close to your cheek, panting and grunting in your ear and it becomes your undoing.

“Baby, kiss me…” you plead with him for just a little taste, your lips parted, jaw hanging slack and your eyes dazed.

You can’t believe you’re the one begging him right now.

Instead of answering you, Wonbin only grunts and nests his face into your neck, where he kisses and sucks and nibbles on your pulse point as his hips slap against your ass in rapid, needy thrust. He keeps uttering your name, whining it in between his ragged breaths, squeezing both of your wrists until your fingers are tingling.

You can tell that he’s right on the edge, chasing his elusive high deep into your cunt, his sensitive tip twitching and throbbing as it daubs at your inner nerves. Your stomach knots up.

“Oh, fuck, Bin—!”

Wonbin wraps a gentle fist around your neck and guides your face back into the pillows, shushing you breathlessly as he does so. You know why— you’re so damn loud when he fucks you like this, and Wonbin is a jealous man. Your moans are his to hear—not his lousy neighbour who he has seen checking you out a couple of times.

That could start another argument on its own.

As you both settle, your body trembling with aftershocks and his twitching needily, you feel him pull out with a long, shaking moan. Your body reacts, missing the feel of him. You roll onto your back, panting whilst staring at the ceiling and he sits back on his knees.

You look at him and manage a small smile, though his face remains clouded with a frown. His eyes flicker to yours for a moment before darting away. You sigh, already knowing what this means—you’ll have to be the one to speak first.

“Baby, c’mere,” you say softly, opening your arms.

It’s all the invitation he needs. Without a word, he slides into your hold, his movements almost hesitant as he rests his head against your chest. He avoids your gaze, even as your fingers thread gently through his damp hair.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice tender and low. “I forgive you. I love you.”

Maybe Park Wonbin was as stubborn as you.

[luvismenu]

Only When It's Us ,, chap: 19 — let go ✎

// series index //

warnings: emotional rollercoaster? silly -> freaky -> cute -> sobbing (but in a good way!) i had to write this as quickly as possible, pls ignore the mistakes, i literally rushed it but i still think it's good !! 😣

nsfw warnings: lots of kissing (IT'S THEIR THING), tittie play, oral (f! recieving), dirty talk-ish??, protected sex.

wc: 5.2k+

note: probably my fave chapter haha

the cafe is quiet, the soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of cups creating a relaxed atmosphere. it’s not crowded, just a handful of students scattered across tables. you and jungkook decided to meet up here, both having an hour to kill before your next class.

jungkook is sitting beside you, one hand intertwined with yours while his other hand holds his phone as he casually scrolls through his schedule for the day. he’s dressed in his usual casual style; sweatpants and a simple shirt that somehow manages to make him look unfairly attractive. his dark hair falls messily over his forehead, making him look effortlessly sexy. he's literally making it hard for you not to stare and drool over him.

he hums softly, almost to himself. “i could skip the next class if i wanted to,” he says, placing his phone down on the table.

you tilt your head, curious. “oh really?”

he nods, leaning back in his chair, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “yeah, it’s just a lecture. i’ve already got the notes.”

before you can say anything else, a soft voice cuts in. “i am so glad i don’t have any classes after this,”

you glance at the silver haired man infront of you and smile slightly before another familiar voice speaks up. “yeah, guess what? i don’t even have classes anymore,”

jungkook chuckles beside you, his thumb brushing over your hand absentmindedly. “must be nice, hyung,” he teases, and you can’t help but laugh a little.

yoongi and jimin are at your table too. jimin, the silver-haired guy you’ve seen before in a very awkward situation, is here to meet yoongi today. and to your surprise, he talks like you’ve been part of their group for ages, his energy is warm and welcoming, which you really appreciate.

jimin leans back in his chair, turning to yoongi. “you know, i was just thinking about that night.. the one when jason got punched.”

your stomach drops at the mention, and you shift in your seat, suddenly very interested in your cup of coffee.

“i was like, over there in the middle of the dance floor,” jimin starts as he recalls the scene. “i don't even know who i was with, there was some chick grinding on me and then POW! i heard the punch, and everyone just stopped and turned towards the sound. taehyung was already sprinting towards jungkook and jason, and oh my god, i was so ready to cheer for the fight!!!” he pauses. “but then i saw the look on yoongi's face and thought, ‘oop, never mind. gotta make it stop.’”

jimin chuckles and glances at yoongi, who shakes his head, clearly unimpressed by the retelling.

a few days after that night, jason apologized to you. it was awkward but sincere, and you listened as he explained himself, it was clear that he regretted it.

“i messed up, i know that,” he said,“i shouldn’t have pushed things the way i did. and, uh… i totally deserved that punch.”

you raised an eyebrow, surprised that he was acknowledging it so openly. “yeah, well. i am glad you're aware,” you said.

he sighed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “i guess it's time for goodbyes? i don't know, i don't think we're gonna get along well, especially since your boyfriend hates me.”

you were surprised at the ‘boyfriend’ title but you chose to ignore it and nodded slowly, “i get that, and yeah.. i think it’s best if we’re not friends anymore. i don’t want to keep dragging things out too,”

you watched him walk away. you haven’t talked to jason since that day, and this time, you knew you made the right choice.

jimin turns his attention to jungkook, who’s now watching him with an amused grin. “besides that, i thought it was fucking awesome, jungkook,”

jungkook chuckles softly, “yeah, getting into a fight with one of your friends is awesome now.”

jimin waves him off. “oh please i don't even care about him, he just happens to know a girl i used to fuck,”

“you’re lucky no one called the cops,” yoongi mutters, taking a sip of his coffee.

“oh, come on,” jimin says, grinning. “it wouldve been legendary, right jungkook?"

“i don't know, legendary or not ,” jungkook glances at you with a soft smile, “i’d rather not have a repeat of that night.”

you nod in agreement, grateful that the topic seems to be winding down. but jimin’s energy is contagious, and even though you’re a little embarrassed, you can’t help but smile at how he's excited about the 'fight'.

“well i think that he deserved it,” jimin announces playfully.

jungkook’s got that cocky grin on his face, the one that always makes you... well, horny. his hand casually slips under the table and onto your thigh. your breath hitches when you feel his fingers inching higher, sliding under your skirt. you glance at him, trying your best to act unbothered, even as your body betrays you with a slight shiver.

“he deserved it, didn’t he?” jungkook asks, his voice low and teasing, his dark eyes locked onto yours. the way he looks at you like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, makes you so fucking wet.

“yeah,” you manage to say softly, even though you have no idea what he’s talking about. your mind is too preoccupied with the warmth of his hand gently stroking your inner thigh.

jimin interrupts with a playful grin. “i think ___'s awesome too, by the way. i saw that slap from miles away, and i was definitely cheering for you,” he pauses and gives yoongi a quick glance before continuing. “quietly, of course.”

you’re not embarrassed about the slap itself. honestly, to this day, you think she deserved far worse. but having it brought up so openly now, in front of everyone, makes you squirm a little.

“oh, um, yeah haha... thank you.” you mumble, feeling jungkook’s eyes on you. he’s smiling ear to ear, clearly entertained by your reaction.

yoongi clears his throat, his expression neutral but his tone laced with humor. “it’s good to see you two not being petty to each other anymore.”

both of your heads snap towards yoongi at the same time, and you chuckle nervously. jungkook smiles, slowly withdrawing his hand from under your skirt and intertwining it with yours on top of the table like nothing happened.

“we’re trying not to. at least i am,” jungkook says, half-joking, his tone so casual that you roll your eyes at him and without missing a beat, you kick him lightly under the table, shooting him a glare. jungkook shrugs a little and kisses your cheek and you can't help but smile.

yoongi and jimin watch the little exchange between you and jungkook, amusement evident on their faces. yoongi raises an eyebrow, shaking his head lightly, while jimin stifles a laugh behind his hand.

“you two are something else,” yoongi comments under his breath, earning a grin from both of you.

but neither of them presses any further, quickly falling back into their own conversation. jimin leans in closer to yoongi, gesturing something with his hands as he starts talking about something you can’t quite catch. yoongi listens intently, nodding along and occasionally throwing in a remark that makes jimin laugh.

their voices become background noise when you hear your phone ding, drawing your attention to the screen. you pick it up and unlock it, only to see a message from jungkook.

jungkook: you look so fucking hot rn, yk that?

you glance at him, raising an eyebrow as he sits there casually, his face unreadable except for the slight upward curve of his lips.

you type back quickly.

you: keep ur hands to yourself and be patient.

his phone buzzes and he checks the message, his grin widening as he types a reply.

jungkook: i am, baby. if i wasn't i would've ripped that skirt open and eat that pretty cunt of yours right now.

you feel your cheeks heat up, and he chuckles softly, clearly enjoying your reaction. you shove your phone into your lap, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered again, but the wetness building between your legs is saying something else.

jungkook is patient.

very patient.

no one's ever been this patient with you (except your parents, of course). your brother used to make fun of you—and still does—for having what he called "ridiculous standards." he’d tease you, saying that anyone who wanted to be with you would need the patience of a saint to deal with your stubbornness. back then, you’d laugh it off. but as you grew older, those words began to settle in your mind, twisting into a belief that maybe he was right.

that maybe no one could keep up with you.

you convinced yourself that your standards were too high, your stubbornness too much to handle. and the more you thought about it, the more it solidified into a quiet truth; you weren’t cut out for relationships.

but then theres jungkook.

he proved you wrong in ways you didn’t even know were possible.

he waited for you, even when you didn’t ask him to. even when you didn’t think anyone would. even when you were being stubborn as fuck.

he had this stubbornness to him that mirrored your own. when you were avoiding him, trying to brush him off with short responses or ignoring him altogether, he didn’t back down. he didn’t let you push him away.

he was like you in some ways, and that’s what made everything so frustrating annd oddly comforting at the same time. both of you were being immature about your argument, refusing to give in or apologize at first. but somehow, through all the tension and standoffs, he didn’t back off, and neither did you. and in a way, that’s what made it work.

and in other ways, you could probably say that... he matched your freak?

it was like he saw through all the walls you put up, and instead of trying to break them down, he just... stood there, waiting for you to let him in.

and when you did, he didn’t disappoint. he met every piece of you with something of his own, and it was messy, and it was imperfect, but it was real.

he’s the most patient man you’ve ever met, and the more time you spend with him, the more you realize just how much that patience means to you.

it’s in the way he looks at you, with so much love and care, as if he already knows you’re worth waiting for.

and you can’t stop loving him more and more for it.

but right now, in this moment, he's anything but patient.

jungkook's kissing you, hot and sloppy. his tongue grazes your bottom lip every few seconds, the kiss is wet, messy, and so fucking good.

he waited until you were done with your classes, but as soon as you stepped out, his patience snapped.

the next thing you knew; he was pulling you to his car and you didn't stop him because oh my god were you horny for this man. now you're in the back seat, ur hands tangled around his neck. one of his hands gripping your waist, and the other sliding under your skirt to rest on your thigh, squeezing it gently.

“fuck—does this remind you of something?” he pulls back, panting. his lips are swollen, and you can barely catch your breath.

“when we first—?” you start, breathless.

“yes,” he says, cutting you off with another kiss. you hum against his lips, melting into the way he moves.

“i fucking love kissing you,” he murmurs against your lips, sending a rush of heat through you.

“kiss me more then,” you challenge, your lips brushing his as you speak.

he pecks your lips once, a smile spreading across his face. “let's go to your place first,” he says, his hand giving your thigh one last squeeze before he pulls back, leaving you wanting more.

. . .

“ow—s-stop!!”

you laugh as jungkook keeps kissing your neck, the way he's doing it is almost like he's tickling you. he smiles against your skin but doesn't stop, his hands firm around your waist as he guides you backward into your room.

“jungkook!” you squeal when you feel his hands slide down your waist to your thighs, and with ease, he lifts you up, carrying you through the doorway.

he finally stops his playful kisses when he reaches your bed, his lips parting from your skin as he looks at you. both of you are smiling, your foreheads gently pressed together as you both savor the moment.

“you're so pretty,” he whispers, his voice soft and he sounds so sincere.

you feel yourself melting at his words.

“are you trying to flirt with me?” you tease, raising an eyebrow,

he tilts his head slightly, mirroring your teasing grin. “yeah, i am,” he says, placing you gently on the bed. he climbs over you, taking off his shirt immediately and leaning down to you.

his lips brushing your jaw as he murmurs, “can’t i flirt with my girlfriend?”

a pause.

your hand cups his cheek, pulling him closer. his lips inch toward yours, but just as he's about to kiss you, you press your palm against his mouth, stopping him.

he frowns, confused, while you smirk teasingly.

“but you ain't my boyfriend,” you say softly, leaning up slightly to place a playful yet soft kiss on the back of your hand still covering his lips. “and i ain't your girlfriend.”

he smiles against your palm, his eyes twinkling with amusement. he gently grabs your wrist, lowering your hand as he leans closer.

“but you don’t want me to see nobody else?” he asks, his lips barely brushing yours, his voice low and matching your teasing tone.

you shake your head slightly, your words barely above a whisper. “and i don’t want you to touch nobody else.” you confess

“but i ain’t your boyfriend?” he counters softly, placing a delicate kiss at the corner of your mouth.

you hum as your eyes flutter shut when you feel the heat of his breath and the gentleness of his lips.

“baby, we don’t have to tell nobody,” he murmurs, his hands slipping under your cardigan to rest on your waist. his thumbs gently rub your skin, the touch sending shivers down your spine.

your smile mirrors his as his lips meet yours again, the softness of the kiss promising more than words ever could.

he kisses you softer this time, and you do too, both of you lost in the intimacy. your hands graze his face, then trail down to his neck, too preoccupied with the moment to think about anything else.

his hands gently lift your cardigan up. you help him remove it, and as the fabric falls away, his touch lingers on your skin. and next comes your bra. he leans back slightly, his lips never straying far from yours, his big hands undoing the clasp at your back. the straps slide down your shoulders, and soon, it's discarded.

his kisses shift lower, finding your neck, and you let out a soft gasp when his lips touch your collarbone. your hands explore his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles. his hand catches your wrist gently, and he presses a tender kiss to your knuckles, making your heart flutter.

he moves lower, pressing soft kisses along your chest. his lips linger at the top of your breasts, and his large hand comes up to cup one of them gently.

“fuck…” he breathes out, his voice low and needy. his mouth finds your nipple, yyou can feel the warmth and wetness as he sucks it, his tongue swirling in slow, deliberate motions. his other hand kneads your other breast, his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipple.

your head falls back, a quiet moan escaping your lips, your back arching toward him. he hums against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. his mouth moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention, his lips and tongue working in harmony to drive you crazy.

you feel completely consumed by him, every touch and kiss leaving you breathless.

your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, your skirt bunched up high, revealing the soft fabric of your underwear. his lips trail lower, leaving tender kisses along your stomach and hips, each touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. with care, he slides your skirt off, tossing it aside, leaving you exposed in nothing but your underwear.

“can i?” he asks as his head settles between your thighs, his gaze meeting yours.

“please,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

he doesn’t hesitate. his fingers hook into the waistband, sliding your underwear down, baring you completely to him. his lips press soft kisses against your lower lips, and you shiver, your body already aching for him.

his fingers part your folds gently, and he pauses for a moment, his gaze fixated on your glistening arousal. his lips curl into a grin as he looks up at you, his eyes dark. “all for me?” he asks, his voice a husky murmur.

“all for you baby,” you manage to breathe out, your voice filled with desparation.

his grin widens, and he doesn’t waste another second. his tongue glides over your wetness in one slow, delicious stroke, and you gasp as pleasure courses through you. your thighs tighten around his head instinctively, pulling him closer as he devours you.

his tongue circles your clit, flicking and sucking gently before moving to lick broad, teasing strokes along your folds. his lips close around your sensitive bud, and he sucks softly, making you moan his name louder and louder.

“mmmph— so fucking— pussy so delicious,” he mutters, his words muffled against your heat. his voice vibrates against your core, adding to the overwhelming sensations building inside you as he continues his relentless rhythm, savoring every inch of your pussy.

his tongue slowly glides down to your aching hole, he licks up the wetness there and pushes his tongue inside you. he starts tongue fucking you and you swear you see the fucking stars.

he moves his head up and down and you can feel his nose rubbing against your clit whenever he moves. you're literally a moaning mess right now.

“mmmgh— j-jungkook so goodd!!”

he grabs your thighs, tight enough to leave marks. he continues tongue fucking you, occasionally pressing kisses and licks on your clit.

you cum.

it's all sloppy and messy, all over his mouth, and he fucking loves it.

he licks you up so good, moaning at the taste of you as you try to catch your breath.

“fuck me, jungkook, p-please,” you gasp, panting, as he rises from between your thighs, quickly removing the rest of his clothes to reveal his already hard dick, standing tall against his lower stomach.

“fuck me jungkook.. please” you moan

“yeah? you're gonna beg for it baby?” he strokes his cock, grunting a little. “gonna beg for my cock like a good girl?”

“y-yes, please fuck me,” you beg. “need you in me,”

he moans and leans down to kiss you. the kiss is hungry, desparate, sloppy and so fucking hot.

he puts on a condom as fast he can and he positions himself at your entrance, gently tapping his dick on your dripping pussy.

he groans. “you look so fucking sexy,” he says as he looks at you panting and moaning, your pussy clenching around nothing, and he loves the way you look so needy for him.

he pushes his thick length inside you, stretching you wide. you let out whimpers as you grip the bedsheets around you. your walls clenching tightly around his girth. he groans, his face contorting with pleasure as he starts to move slowly, his hips rolling back and forth.

“o-oh fuck, baby— good fucking— pussy—” his words come out muffled as his thrusts grow faster and more urgent, his pubic bone slamming against your clit with each thrust. you're crying out in pleasure, your hands grabbing at his back and arms as you try to hold on. he's fucking you hard and fast, his dick pounding into your pussy like there's no tomorrow.

he sinks deeper, filling you completely, “mmnh!!... so good,” you pant, voice strained with pleasure. with each thrust, he hits that sweet spot inside you, coaxing out whimpers and gasps.

“fuck, baby— love this tight little cunt,” he grunts

the room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans. sweat beads on his forehead as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency, chasing his climax.

“g-god, you feel amazing,” he gasps, his eyes locked onto yours. “love how fucking wet and hot you are for me.”

your own pleasure builds, coiling tighter with each thrust. you arch your back, meeting him halfway, desperate for more contact.

“y-yes! yes, oh my god, jungkook—” you cry when picks up the pace even further.

with a final, deep push, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his body shuddering as he reaches his peak. you can feel his cock twitching inside you.

your legs tremble, fingers digging into his shoulders as you ride out the intense orgasm.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you both pant and quiver in the aftermath. he presses gentle kisses to your neck

“i fucking love you.”

the next morning, you and jungkook are on the couch, in the living room, wrapped up in each other's warmth. you're peacefully sleeping with your head resting on his lap, while his fingers gently play with your hair. he's shirtless, and you can't resist softly tracing your fingers along his toned stomach and chest.

"you know what i think when i look at you?" jungkook asks, his voice soft as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. you hum in response, not fully awake.

"how can someone be this pretty?" he smiles down at you, his eyes sparkling, and you return the smile.

"back at ya," you reply with a playful grin.

"oh, you think i'm pretty?" he teases, his grin widening.

"yeah, of course! you're the prettiest," you say, your smile growing as you scrunch your nose, which he finds utterly adorable.

"what about hot?" he asks, his voice turning a little more playful. you sit up, shifting to climb onto his lap, and he smiles, his hands finding your waist to help you settle comfortably.

"the hottest," you respond, and he chuckles, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

the two of you lean in to kiss... but!!!

just as your lips are about to meet, the doorbell rings.

you sigh.

"must be the delivery guy or something," you say, and jungkook nods, pulling away from you. as you get up, jungkook gives you a playful slap on your ass. you yelp in surprise, and you can hear him laughing behind you as you make your way to the door.

you open the door, expecting to see a delivery person, but instead, your eyes widen in shock.

"what the fuck?" you say it out loud, clearly surprised by the sight in front of you.

"is this how you treat your guests?" a male voice calls out, sounding amused.

jungkook notices your surprise and quickly gets up, walking towards you to see what’s going on. "what happened, baby? who is it—" he stops mid-sentence when he sees a tall man standing in front of you. the man is holding a suitcase, dressed in a sharp navy blue suit, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his face... perfect.

“who is this?” the man asks, his eyes never leaving jungkook, waiting for you to say something.

"who are you?" jungkook asks him, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulls you behind him.

the man frowns.

“geez guys, stop it!” you step forward, standing between them now. jungkook's eyes follow you, a little confused.

"jungkook, this is my.. older brother," you say, and jungkook's eyes widen in surprise. you turn to cal and continue. "and this is jungkook, my... well, you know—"

"oh, i know," cal interrupts, eyeing jungkook with a pointed look, his gaze scanning jungkook's shirtless body. jungkook fumbles awkwardly, trying to cover himself as he looks around for his shirt, only to realize you're wearing it.

oops, you think.

“nice to meet you, i am jeon jungkook,” jungkook introduces himself, his voice a little awkward as he bows slightly to your brother. he’s clearly trying to make a good impression, but the situation he's in right now is the worst.

your brother glances at you, and you subtly mouth, ‘be nice’ to him. cal rolls his eyes, clearly not amused, but he lets out a small sigh and turns back to jungkook, holding out his hand.

jungkook, not missing a beat, reaches out and shakes his hand firmly, though still trying to mask the awkwardness.

“i’m calvin.”

“is this how you live?” your brother muses, his eyes scanning the room as he settles onto the couch where you and jungkook had been cuddling just a moment ago, taking in the surroundings with a critical eye.

“mind your own business,” you reply as you set a glass of water on the table. cal grabs it, grinning at you as he takes a sip.

“i was gonna say it suits you,” cal remarks, casually taking a few gulps of the water before setting it down on the table.

“okay, mr. richie rich,” you say, raising an eyebrow, and cal smiles.

just then, jungkook comes out of your bedroom, now fully clothed, walking towards you and cal. cal’s eyes narrow slightly, his expression hard to read. you catch it, but before he can comment, you give your brother a little kick in the leg. cal scowls, not expecting it.

you move over to jungkook, and he instantly wraps an arm around you, and he feels a little more at ease. cal notices this shift in the air, a slight smirk tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” you ask your brother, sitting down next to jungkook on the other couch, trying to act casual.

“i did tell you,” cal points out, his tone unbothered.

“no, you didn’t—” you pause, thinking for a moment. “that was weeks ago!”

cal just shrugs, his face unapologetic. “i told you, didn’t i?”

you roll your eyes, clearly not impressed.

cal leans back on the couch. "oh yeah, mom and dad sent you some stuff," he says nonchalantly, as if it’s no big deal.

you furrow your brows, a little confused. "what stuff?" you ask, glancing between him and the suitcase he brought in with him.

"in the suitcase," cal replies, pointing at the bag. "you know, your old stuff. i also saw that plushie you always used to play with."

at the mention of the plushie, you feel something in your chest. you don’t even think twice before getting up and walking over to the suitcase. jungkook watches your every movement, curious.

you open it carefully, your hands trembling slightly as you sift through your old belongings. when your fingers brush against the familiar fabric of the plushie, you pull it out, immediately hugging it tightly to your chest.

cal watches, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "yeah, that ugly fat guy," he comments, and you glare at him and he just laughs softly, immediately apologising.

you clutch the plushie closer, but as you look down at it, you notice a small tag attached to it, and you read the words on the tag aloud: “we realised that we can let go now.”

the realization hits you, and a wave of emotions rush over you.

mom and dad..

it makes your throat tighten and your eyes well up with tears. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them at bay, but it’s hard. you hug your totoro plushie tighter, a pout forming on your lips.

both jungkook and cal notice it. jungkook smiles softly, his eyes warm, while cal looks at you, his eyes softening.

for a moment, cal doesn’t say anything. he watches as you hug the plushie tightly, your fingers clutching it as though you’re afraid to let it go. despite the teasing earlier, he can’t help but see you as the same little sister who used to carry that plushie around everywhere.

he remembers the way you’d refuse to sleep without it, how you’d drag it around by one arm. you were always so stubborn. you were always insisting that it wasn’t just a toy, it was your “friend.” and now, seeing you holding it again, it’s as if time has rewound.

he can only see you as the same little girl, clutching your plushie like it’s your whole world, and it makes his heart ache a little— but in a good way.

“we’re proud of you, you know,” cal says suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

you and jungkook both look at him, a little surprised.

“yes, we,” he repeats, his smile growing as he starts to list, “me, mom, dad, totoro, noisy boy-” he chuckles as he recalls some memories. “we’re all proud of you, little star.”

his words hit you hard. it breaks you, completely.

you bury your face in totoro, clutching the plushie tightly as the tears begin to fall freely. soft, shaky sobs escape your lips, and cal doesn’t hesitate. he stands and moves to kneel beside you on the floor, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. his hand strokes your arm gently, up and down, a comforting rhythm as you cry into his side.

“i missed you,” you manage to say through the tears, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

cal’s smile softens even more. “me too,” he whispers, his voice quiet but filled with warmth.

jungkook kneels down in front of you, his gaze filled with nothing but tenderness. cal looks at him, their eyes meeting for a moment, and with a small, approving smile, cal nods at him.

jungkook seems to understand immediately. he reaches out, gently pulling you into his arms. you let yourself be held, your sobs gradually quieting as he rubs soothing circles on your back.

cal watches the two of you, his chest tightening in a bittersweet way. he sees how jungkook wipes away your tears with careful hands, murmuring something about totoro that makes you chuckle softly through the emotions.

jungkook presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment before he pulls back to look at you. his eyes full of love and reassurance, and it’s enough to make cal feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re in good hands.

and all cal can think as he watches the two of you is,

we can let go now.

note: one more chapter :(( i have so much to say about owiu i am gonna cry (already did writing the last part,, idk i am js really emo today)

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127 @minaateez @myjungkookthighs

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[baelabong]

ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ (ᴘᴀᴜʙᴀʏᴀ)

ᴋᴀʀɪɴᴀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ - ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ

plot: you need to let go

genre: angst

notes!warnings: rina LOWKEY cheating, it was supposed to be sana but like i changed my mind half way oops

The first time Y/N noticed something had changed, it was a small thing. So small that she brushed it off, telling herself that she was overthinking. It was during one of their usual late-night hangouts, the kind where they'd lie in bed together, talking about everything and nothing. The air was warm, the kind of warmth that made you want to stay up just a little longer, to savor the night before it slipped away.

Jimin had her head on Y/N’s lap, scrolling through her phone as Y/N absentmindedly played with her hair. It was a scene that had played out countless times before, a simple, comforting routine. But that night, something was different. The usual soft laughter that would spill from Jimin's lips was missing. Her responses were shorter, distracted. Y/N had asked her about her day, about a story she knew Jimin would usually jump at the chance to share, but Jimin had only nodded, her eyes glued to her screen.

Y/N bit her lip, trying to push down the pang of hurt. Maybe Jimin was just tired, or maybe she was engrossed in something important. But when she glanced at the screen, she saw that Jimin wasn’t reading an article or responding to a work message. She was scrolling through someone’s social media profile. A girl Y/N didn’t recognize.

Y/N had felt a twist in her gut, but she quickly looked away, not wanting to seem paranoid. She reminded herself that Jimin had friends, and there was no reason to feel jealous. But the image of that unfamiliar profile lingered in her mind long after they had gone to bed, with Jimin’s back turned to her.

---

Weeks passed, and the feeling only grew stronger. Jimin began coming home later than usual, with vague excuses about work or meeting up with friends Y/N had never heard of before. The spontaneous dates they used to go on, the weekend getaways they loved to plan on a whim, became less frequent. Jimin started canceling plans at the last minute, often with a text message instead of a call.

Y/N tried to be understanding. She knew life got busy, that sometimes they couldn’t spend every moment together like they used to. But the distance between them was no longer just physical. It was emotional, too.

One night, they had planned a dinner together at their favorite restaurant. Y/N had been looking forward to it all week, excited to spend some quality time with Jimin, to try and recapture some of the closeness that had been slipping away. But as she waited at the restaurant, her heart sank with every passing minute. Jimin was late—again.

Y/N stared at her phone, the unease growing with each unanswered call and text. When Jimin finally walked through the door, she looked apologetic, but also distracted. “Sorry, I got caught up with something,” she said quickly, barely meeting Y/N’s eyes.

“What was it?” Y/N asked, trying to keep her tone light. She was used to Jimin’s busy schedule, but tonight felt different. She needed an explanation, something to ease the growing knot of anxiety in her chest.

Jimin hesitated, her eyes darting away. “Just… work stuff. It took longer than expected.”

Y/N nodded slowly, but she wasn’t convinced. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

But even as they ate, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Jimin’s mind was elsewhere. She tried to bring up funny stories from her day, reminisced about their past trips, anything to pull Jimin back to her, but the conversations felt forced. Jimin smiled and laughed at the right moments, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It felt like she was going through the motions, trying to play the part of the attentive girlfriend, but something was missing.

That night, as they lay in bed, Y/N tried to wrap her arms around Jimin, to hold her close like she always did. But Jimin turned away, mumbling something about being tired. Y/N stared at the back of her head, the familiar scent of Jimin’s shampoo filling the air, but it brought no comfort. All Y/N could feel was the cold space growing between them.

---

The breaking point came on a rainy afternoon. They were supposed to spend the day together, something they hadn’t done in what felt like ages. Y/N had planned everything, from breakfast in bed to watching their favorite movie, hoping to reignite the spark that had been dimming for so long. But when Jimin walked in, soaked from the rain, her face was pale, her eyes distant.

Y/N hurried over, concern etching her features. “Jimin, what happened? Are you okay?”

Jimin didn’t answer right away. She just stood there, dripping water onto the floor, looking like she had been somewhere else entirely. Finally, she looked up at Y/N, her eyes filled with an emotion Y/N couldn’t quite place. “We need to talk,” she said quietly.

Y/N’s heart sank. She had heard those words before, in other relationships, and they never led anywhere good. “About what?”

Jimin hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “About us.”

Y/N felt a chill run down her spine. She had known this was coming, had felt it in every missed connection, every unspoken word between them. But hearing it out loud was different. It made it real. “What about us?”

Jimin looked down at the floor, unable to meet Y/N’s eyes. “Things… things haven’t been the same, Y/N. I’ve been trying to figure it out, to make sense of it, but I can’t keep pretending that everything is fine.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “What are you saying, Jimin?”

“I don’t know when it started, but… I don’t feel the same way anymore.” Jimin’s voice cracked, her hands trembling at her sides. “I still care about you, but the love… it’s not the same.”

Y/N’s world felt like it was crumbling around her. She had feared this moment, dreaded it, but nothing could have prepared her for the actual pain of hearing it. “When did you realize?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Jimin admitted, finally looking up. “It was gradual, I guess. I tried to ignore it, to push it away, but… I’m not in love with you the way I used to be.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to break down. “Is there someone else?”

Jimin hesitated for a moment too long, and Y/N’s heart shattered. “There is, isn’t there?”

“It’s not like that,” Jimin said quickly. “I never meant for it to happen. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re here with me, but your heart… it’s somewhere else. With her.”

Jimin didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. The guilt in her eyes was all the confirmation Y/N needed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Y/N asked, her voice breaking. “Why did you let me believe that we still had a chance?”

“I didn’t want to lose you,” Jimin confessed, tears finally spilling over. “I kept hoping that I could find a way back to the way things were, that I could love you the way you deserve. But I can’t.”

Y/N closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely now. “When did your love for me start to fade away, Jimin? I gave you everything I had, all I wanted was to see you smile.”

Jimin’s heart broke at the sound of Y/N’s anguish. She reached out, wanting to hold her, to comfort her, but Y/N pulled away, shaking her head.

“Don’t,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. “Don’t touch me if it’s not real.”

Jimin’s hands dropped to her sides, powerless to make things right. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Y/N looked at her, a mix of heartbreak and resignation in her eyes. “If she’s the key to your happiness, I won’t stand in your way. I’m letting you go, Jimin. But I have one request.”

Jimin’s breath caught in her throat. “Anything.”

“Make sure she loves you the way I have,” Y/N said, her voice cracking with the weight of her words.

Jimin’s tears fell harder now, the reality of what she was losing hitting her all at once. She had known this day would come, but nothing could have prepared her for the pain of actually losing Y/N. “Y/N, I…”

“It’s too late,” Y/N interrupted, shaking her head. “I’ve been holding on, hoping that we could find our way back to each other, but I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay. It’s me who’s wrapped in your arms, but it’s her on your mind.”

Jimin didn’t have the words to make it better. The truth was too heavy, too painful to deny.

“Even if she’s the key to your happiness,” Y/N continued, wiping her tears, “my love for you will never change. But I’m setting you free. Just promise me that she’ll love you the way I have.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Jimin whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

Y/N gave her a sad smile. “You already have.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of their situation pressing down on them. Y/N could see the regret in Jimin’s eyes, but she knew it wasn’t enough. Regret wouldn’t bring back what they had lost.

“I’m hoping it’s still us,” Y/N said, her voice trembling. “I wish this would never end. But I know it’s her who’s your last.”

Jimin shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I never wanted this.”

“I know,” Y/N replied softly. “Neither did I.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I still can’t believe that you’ve chosen her,” she confessed, her heart breaking with every word. “I can see it in your eyes. And it’s hard to fight for what’s not meant to be.”

Jimin reached out, gently cupping Y/N’s face in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You deserve so much more.”

Y/N leaned into her touch, closing her eyes as she savored the moment, knowing it would be their last. “I’m letting you go, Love,” she whispered. “I’m letting you go… but I’ll still wait for you.”

Jimin’s heart shattered at the sound of Y/N’s words. She pulled her into a tight embrace, holding on as if her life depended on it. But she knew it was over. She had made her choice, and there was no going back.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms for the final time, Y/N whispered, “Goodbye, Jimin.”

With that, she stepped back, turning away before she could change her mind. She walked out of the room, leaving Jimin standing there, tears streaming down her face as the door closed behind her.

Jimin stared at the door, her heart aching with the loss of the person she had loved more than anything. But as much as she wanted to chase after her, to beg her to stay, she knew it wouldn’t be fair. Y/N deserved someone who would love her the way she had loved, and that person wasn’t her.

Jimin wiped her tears, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips as she whispered to the empty room, “I’ll never forget you, Y/N. I promise.”

But in her heart, she knew Y/N was already gone.

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch14

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13

Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff, touch starved

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"Mr. O'Hara, you're ten o'clock is here." You said over the small intercom that leads directly into his office.

"Thank you, (Y/N), send him in."

You couldn't resist a smile as you motioned the person inside Miguel's office. It has been a few days since the two of you have gotten together, and you felt like you were in heaven. Well, your body might be taking a longer time to get there than your soul.

Miguel was such a beast in bed. He took it slow your first time, but each time afterwards was always another added round. You weren't sure if you were going to be able to catch up at this rate.

Hearing your desk phone ring, you hurried back into your office. It was rare for your own phone to ring, since it was mainly you setting Miguel's appointments and schedules. You picked up the phone, curiously.

"Hello, (Y/N)'s office."

"Ms. (L/N), you um....have someone who uh...really wants to meet you."

"Meet me? Um...O-Okay, I'll be down in a minute," You stuttered before hanging up.

Honestly, your nerves started to kick in. Who would want to meet you here? Almost all of your family lived out of state and you had near to no friends in this city. The only people you knew were your horrible coworkers from your previous jobs.

Taking deep breathes to calm you down, you made your way to the elevator. Perhaps you were overthinking this? Maybe it was someone who wanted to make an appointment with Miguel and had to meet with you first?

Yelping, you accidently tripped over your own shoe and pressed multiple buttons on the elevator pad.

"Oops...maybe I'll be down in...3 minutes?" You whispered, looking at the floors that you pressed.

--------

Finally reached the main floor, you just kept a nervous smile as you waited for everyone to leave the elevator. You still weren't too comfortable with others, especially since they all kept eyeing you for being Lyla's temporary replacement.

"Well, you sure know how to keep a girl waiting. Almost like you knew it was me." Dana said with a huff.

"Ah-" You felt your blood brain as you recalled Dana.

"Why don't we go for a walk. We have a lot to chat about, darling."

Recalling Miguel's disgust towards Dana, you felt conflicted and concerned. He looked so angry, so scary when he was hissing his words out to this woman.

"I-I probably...s-shouldn't." You couldn't stop stuttering as you grew more worried.

"I'm not here to waste time. Walk." Dana snapped her fingers, motioning you forward.

Unable to say anything, you just did as she said. This was embarrassing. You needed to stand up for yourself more. Making eye contact with the receptionist, you gave them a pleading look before leaving the building.

"Phew, it is always so stuffy in there. Now then, as you've probably heard, I'm Dana. Miguel's fiancé."

"E-Ex." You whispered.

"Miguel and I are meant to be together. Both of our families have already signed everything for the wedding. Miguel is just being rebellious. I'm sure he's said nasty things about me, right?" Dana asked, but you couldn't answer, "How lovely is it? To have him whisper sweet words into your ear every chance he gets?"

"H-Huh?"

"To have his hands roam every inch of your body like a touch starved maniac? Remember what I said? Men lie. Miguel is using you to try and break away from me, but he knows he can't. We have a legally binding contract to each other. Miguel has no choice but to marry me."

"You can't...force someone to marry you," You finally spoke up, not liking this conversation.

"He sighed it. Men can't stand being trapped in a relationship-"

"That's not...true. Miguel likes being with me...."

"Has he told you about his family? About his past? About his desires and wants?" Dana spat, nearly pushing you against a wall.

"N-Not yet," You gulped, shaking as Dana glared down at you.

"Tch," Dana let out a heavy sigh, "You really are a mouse. No wonder why Miguel is taking advantage of you. Anyway, I'll cut to the chase now. Break up with Miguel so we can proceed with our wedding."

You didn't want to respond to Dana anymore. Tears started to form as you tried to look strong.

"I'll be back in a week."

With that, Dana left. Once she did, you finally started crying. Hurrying back to your office, you needed to recoup. Slowly, everything Dana was saying was processing.

Was it true?

Did Miguel really sign a contract to marry Dana?

Or was it a lie?

You were so confused and honestly, scared. You really liked Miguel. He was the first man to treat you with such kindness. Miguel was the first man to truly love you. He went at your pace and made sure you were always okay.

The only way for you to get any sort of comfort was answers. You needed to hear from Miguel that Dana was lying. You just needed too.

--------

Miguel shook hands with his partner as they finally parted ways. Once his appointment left, Miguel let out a heavy sigh. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and decided to take a small break before his next meeting came.

Deciding to treat himself to you, Miguel hummed lowly as he went to your office. Before he entered, he heard you sniffing. Concerned, Miguel hurried inside and saw you crying.

"(Y/N)?! Are you alright?" He asked, hurrying to your side and wiping your tears.

"H-Honestly...no. While you had...your meeting, um...Dana came-"

"Que? (What?)" Miguel hissed, "What did she say?"

"A lot," You whimpered, leaning against his touch, "Miguel...I have a lot of questions."

Miguel sighed softly, having an idea of what Dana put into your head. He wiped another tear and kissed your head. Sitting on your desk, Miguel thought of how to start.

"This would better be said elsewhere. Mi amor (my love), allow me to just answer one thing and the rest at my place later, would that ease you?" He asked.

"I-I guess,"

Miguel smiled as he cupped your cheeks and pulled you into a deep kiss.

"I care for no one other than you. Not a single drop of love in my heart belongs to anyone else, (Y/N). I won't give anyone else the attention I give to you."

-------

Those words did bring you ease. Miguel had such a way with words. Sniffing softly, you gave Miguel a smile. You were going to believe Miguel.

"You're so sweet, hehe."

"Only for you," Miguel gave you another kiss as he stroked your hair, "I'll make sure that vile creature doesn't steps foot here again."

"Miguel..."

"I know. I'm sure you have so many questions, and I want to answer them all now, but it must wait."

"I know," You sighed softly, "I do feel better...thank you."

Miguel smiled as he kept stroking your hair until his next appointment showed up. Once they did, Miguel left to take care of business. At least he comforted you.

All you had to do was wait.

Miguel would answer all your questions at his place.

His place.

Immediately, your face turned bright red. You were going to be in his place.

"Wah, now I'm nervous for a different reason!"

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[demon-country]

I'm kind of surprised that this isn't a more common opinion, but I really do think that Blitz started coming over way more often than just the full moon for sex and also that he started staying the whole night as time went on. Like, even if you want to claim that Stolas doesn't love Blitz, he only loves the idea of being loved - which I highly disagree with - Blitz ain't that kinda person. He doesn't catch feelings after only like, what, 12-ish days spent having marathon long sex, and a couple of times spent being vaguely together in public? Ain't no way, Blitz is too guarded for that, and even though BDSM breeds a lot of trust just by virtue of it being about trust more than it is about sex, there's no way those things alone would make Blitz start to fall in love enough that he lists Stolas among the people he doesn't want to live without and die alone, or enough to do literally all of The Full Moon and Apology Tour.

On Stolas' phone there is also a picture of a horse that Blitz drew, laid on Stolas' bed, showing that Blitz felt comfortable enough at Stolas' palace and in Stolas' company that he was willing to draw Stolas a horse. That speaks of intimacy, that speaks of familiarity, and that speaks of trust that Blitz would share something he loves doing with Stolas. It also speaks of them having the time to do things other than sex when he comes over.

Now, to be fair, Blitz himself says that Stolas liked to do things like call him a lot to ask about his day and whatnot, and liked his sinstagram posts all the time. And while their now-defunct official Instagram posts aren't strictly canon, Viv did say that the stuff there was true to what the characters might do. So if we take what Blitz said in Oops and applied it to something Blitz posted on his sinstagram account, then Blitz used to book out an entire hour on his daily schedule just to talk on the phone with Stolas. Spending an hour or even half an hour almost every single work day for around a year and regularly talking on sinstagram is definitely significant and would also foster familiarity and plant the seed that Stolas does care for him, even if Blitz's self-hatred and Stolas' more unfortunate comments prevented him from truly believing it.

But I don't think it'd stop with that. Sex is the only way Blitz feels he can really spend time together with Stolas, and it's the only thing he knows for certain that Stolas wants from him and is always down for. If he was catching feelings - and Ozzie's, The Full Moon, and Apology Tour all show that he most definitely was -, he'd start desiring to be around Stolas more often, which would almost definitely lead to him making excuses to come over and have sex.

Of course, he couldn't just admit that even to himself, so he probably would have excused it to himself as something like being too busy to find someone else to sleep with. Oh you know he's just so busy with work and taking care of Loona, and going out to find a fling when he has a perfectly willing booty call he can go see basically whenever he wants is just way less convenient. Why put in the extra work finding someone he's interested in when Stolas is a smoking hot great lay who's down to do pretty much anything and everything? Not that it means anything though! He could totally go get someone else if he wanted to, he just... doesn't. Because he's too busy for that, of course.

And why go to some rando's place if he's just gonna have to get up and leave right after? With Stolas he can stay the night in a giant ass, comfy as fuck bed (with a super soft, super snuggly bird. Uh, not that he cares about that though! It's certainly not like he's touch starved or anything, haha no of course not that'd be crazy! >_>), and in the morning if he sticks around long enough he can either get another round in or some fancy brand coffee.

Like, that's all just an example of how he might explain it to himself, but however he actually did, I'm of the opinion that he used to not stay the night, but most of the time by the end of it he did. Blitz doesn't fall quickly, but once he does he falls hard, and given how desperately he clings to Stolas in The Full Moon and Apology Tour, I'm not sure if he'd be able to stop himself from spending whatever time he could make excuses for with Stolas. The only reason he doesn't post-Ozzie's is because of Stolas' supposed rejection and, after Western Energy, because he feels unworthy of it and is scared of what his perceived failure to protect Stolas might have changed.

That's how I see it, anyway. But I guess it's a pretty unpopular opinion? This got way longer than I thought it would...