#I have more waiting in the wings but let me know what you guys think of these first >///<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[xraytheredx]

It's been such a long time since I've fallen so hard for a project. All the work put into Welcome Home so far has been so vibrant and amazing, and things are just getting started! Of course I had to draw something for it! 😊💖 (Several somethings, to be more accurate! XD)

[caramelkoo]

before we shatter — jjk [one]

genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook

word count : 6k

summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

chapter warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature content, fluff, so much angst, smut, talks of infertility, clit sucking, fingering, Jungkook worships her, dirty talk, doggy style, reader is in so much pain i love her sm, fall vibes <33, gift giving as a love language, pussy slapping with his d, big dick energy, jungkook is desperate. that's about it please mention if i missed anything.

read part two here

a/n : based on this ask so thank you anon for coming forward and giving me a chance to write this. i also wanna mention that im no doctor so please forgive me if i didn't do the topic of infertility justice. the second part gives more clarity in their case so please be kind to wait. enjoy and im v v grateful for you. you're so loved.

When you were a child, barely five, an orange butterfly came flying outside your front door. Your mom told you about it since she saw it first causing your entire face to instantly light up like the fourth of july.

An inexplicable joy filled your whole body making your day ten times better, not that you were having a bad one. A five year old can’t have a bad day whatsoever.

After you were done chasing it around, secretly hoping that it would land on your nose just the way they show on television, you had to let it go and head back inside. 

Oddly enough the next morning you saw it again, this time it was not flapping its wings like it had last night, instead it was sitting on the window beside the door. Quiet and still. 

You, ever so curious, had to ask your mom about it. “It might find comfort there,” she said. 

Up until you met your boyfriend you had spent the majority of your time wondering where your comfort place is, what is that one place where you can just be yourself and not pretend to be some stoic woman. A place which lets you cry whenever you want but also replaces those tears with wide smiles and loud giggles. 

Turns out, it’s your boyfriend’s arms. 

It’s true. Jungkook with his kind, sparkly bambi eyes and bunny smile stole your damn heart a few years ago and is not willing to give it back. Although you can’t complain, in a world where people can’t seem to find the one for themselves, the angels up there granted you a guy every inch a gentleman. Safe to say it’s not one like one of those titular relationships you've come across. 

He’s your solace, a roof where you can safely just about exist. 

He heals you.

Dating an Idol comes with several perks, the biggest one of those being dealing with the huge amount of selective criticism. You feel hurt, of course, but when you’re with Jungkook, they are nothing but words behind a pixel. A pain that only lasts momentarily. 

This pain though, is not as mundane. This one is making your stomach twist in apprehension. You’ve lost the count of how many deep breaths you’ve taken.

“I’m afraid this is a case of infertility miss _____” the doctor says, earning your attention.

You’re not able to form a word, however that does nothing to stop your subconscious mind from screaming, I knew it.

Being stupid enough to think you were well prepared to hear her say this, you mustered up the courage to enter the four walled white space which, at that time, didn’t feel as narrow as it does now. It’s almost as if it’s closing up on you.

Only after you sat before the woman in white coat and bad news, did you realize how gut wrenching this actually feels.

You face her with a weak smile, one that doesn’t actually reach your eyes, “Are- are you sure you’re not mistaken?” 

Dr. Ana leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. The move itself tells you more than you need to. “Miss _____, I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with this but I suggest you try. I would also like to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you can always go with adoption. The options are endless.” 

Your throat feels awfully dry and you gulp. “Thank you uh, can I ask you for a favor?” 

“Anything”

“If you happen to cross paths with Jungkook, please don’t mention anything about this to him.” 

Dr. Ana flashes you a kind smile, “Of course not ____. It’s your personal matter. I wouldn’t dare.” 

“Thanks a lot.” 

With one last nod you excuse yourself from her office. Your phone buzzes inside your pocket and you take it out, seeing Jungkook’s number stare up at you. 

“Hey” 

“Hey, my love. Are you busy?” His voice nearly brings tears to your eyes. It also brings up a question. Will he act the same towards you after you tell him where you are and what you just heard? Will his voice be filled with the same amount of excitement and affection for you? 

“No, honey. I’m actually at my sister’s place. She was craving some alone time with her husband and asked me to babysit Coco”

You can visualise him awing already. Jungkook has grown attached to your sister’s daughter a little too much. His bond with Coco is just so bright it makes you wonder if they happened to be an actual father and daughter duo in the past life. They’re both full of beans and it’s a delight to see them both together. 

He chimes, “Ah my little Coco bean. Is she near? Let me hear my angel.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to come up with any transitory excuse that doesn’t make you run for the hills. “She’s sleeping right now. Made me work for it but I managed to settle her down” 

Jungkook moans from the other side of the line and you mentally curse yourself. Not only are you lying through your teeth but also using your innocent niece as a pawn. From the day you began dating Jungkook, you’ve not looked at any other man. For the first time now, you have this nagging feeling as though you’re cheating on him. 

“Well, alright next time then. When are you coming back home?” 

“As soon as they do. Do you miss me already?” I tease.

“Pfft me and miss you? Impossible” 

You gasp, the audacity of this boy. “How rude!!”

Your goofy boyfriend dares to chuckle, “I carry you with me everywhere I go, love. It’s hard to miss someone who’s this close to you every time of the day.” 

It doesn’t take you long to grasp what he is referring to. The heart shaped bracelet rests proudly on his wrists and the man had refused to take it off ever since you gifted it to him. A sense of longing already creeps up in your heart, twisting it until you run out of breath. 

Your chest expands as you fill it with much needed air, “Listen, honey I’ll give you a call soon yeah? I think Coco has woken up and I must go check if she needs something,” you fake a chuckle, “You know how she gets when she’s irritated” 

“Oh yes of course. Promise to give me a call soon?” 

This time the smile on your face is genuine, “I promise” 

“Give Coco a kiss for me. I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

There’s a heavy weight on your chest as soon as you hang up the call. Maybe it has always been there. So, for a couple of minutes you just stand there in the hallway of the hospital taking in the sterile smell and worrisome patients, praying that the highest power up there gives you one last chance so you could try and fix what’s been ruined.

The commotion around you does nothing to overtake the voices in your head and sadness fires through you as you feel like you’re burning your boats. Despite all of that, you pray for one last time, this time for again being strong enough to let go. 

Let go of your happiness.

Let go of your salvation.

Let go of your comfort.

Let go of Jungkook.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You click the door shut behind you, hanging the coat on the rack. You’re not even done turning around when a muscular arm wraps around your abdomen and you’re pulled back against a taut chest. 

“I missed you” his voice is muffled against your jumper.

You run your palms over Jungkook’s forearm, stopping to interlace your fingers with his.The way his hands fit with yours is adorable to you as if they were made to do so. The bracelet on his wrist is cool against your skin and you smile. “You know what’s funny? This guy I talked to earlier said it’s impossible for him to miss me” 

He rests his chin on top of your shoulders, cheeks warm against yours. He has grown out a stubble which makes him look manlier for some reason and you can’t stop caressing it with your fingers whenever you cup his face.

“You’re talking to other guys?” If you hadn’t known Jungkook better than himself, you would have missed the pout of his lips when he said that. 

You turn your face and place a sloppy kiss on his cheekbones, “Only my favourite guy in the whole world.” 

He breaks out in a toothy grin and holds your gaze. “You’re my favourite girl too but I think you already know that.” 

You nod but the pang of guilt is still lingering in your heart. “Still love hearing it.” 

Jungkook releases you from his embrace and walks back, rounding the kitchen counter until he’s holding up a large bowl. “Ready for our fall ritual?” 

Jungkook and you have been using your mum’s recipe to bake chocolate chip cookies every fall and while you enjoy baking with him, the thing that you take the most pleasure from is his face when he munches on the first cookie.

It’s one of your favorite sights ever. It takes quite a bit of effort to bake them but hell if you wouldn’t do it all over again just to see him close his eyes and moan like it is the best thing since sliced bread. 

You join him behind the counter and look around. From the way the batter has already been prepared you suppose he’s been at it for a while. There are some chocochips in a small bowl across from you with some cranberries next to them because he knows you like them in your cookies. 

“You don’t ever forget about the cranberries, do you?” 

“Nope. They’re your favourite plus if you eat well, I can eat you well– ouch,” he jumps, “What was that for?” 

You offer him a glare which does nothing to stop the smile threatening to break out of your lips, “Behave” 

His face inches closer to yours, “Now honey don’t be acting like I didn’t give you the best orgasm this morning” 

Oh well, how can you forget about that? Ninety nine percent of the time you love waking up in his arms while he’s the big spoon but there’s that one percent where he wakes you up with his head between your legs, sometimes with his face under your shirt sucking on your nipples. Indissoluble passion within him. His ability to satisfy you with his mouth alone needs to be studied because god if you don’t crave more and more. 

You blink, once twice thrice, “You’re incorrigible” 

He lets out a cackle at your flustered face as you wonder when you will stop blushing like a fool around him. It’s been years and he still makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a ball of jitters. Jungkook leans back and straightens up. He plucks the apron from the counter before coming up behind you. “Hold your hair up for me” He demands. 

You grab a fistful of your hair and lift them up as he settles it on your neck before tying the knot at your back. With one last kiss on the back of your neck he joins you. 

“How long has it been since you began making this?” 

“Not long ago. Thought I’d wait for you to come back home and then continue”

You watch him add the chocochips into the dough. His tattoos are barely visible behind the cozy sweater he’s wearing. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, Jungkook with his perfect physique and gorgeous face looks good in everything, more so naked, but nothing triggers your cuteness aggression more than him wearing a fluffy knitted sweater, believe it or not. One which you knitted at that.

He pulls your attention away pausing your little drooling session, “How’s Coco bean doing?” 

A sudden urge of getting close to him creeps up and you sneak between the counter and him, hugging him as you nuzzle your face in his chest. He smells like cinnamon. He places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before resting his chin there. 

“You smell so good” 

“Thanks and she’s as chaotic as ever. Nailea bought the cutest pair of pyjamas for her,” you look up at him,  “She looked like a loaf of bread when they made her wear it.” 

“No way. Should we buy her another one of those?” he pulls back, barely able to hide the excitement on his face.

“You’re gonna spoil her” 

“Damn right I will and if you call this spoiling, wait till I get one of those made by me.” 

There it is. 

If Jungkook wasn’t so fond of children, would it have been easier for you to cope? You do realize that you’re a stone’s throw away from losing him for once and for all. In the old days you heard somewhere that it takes a strong man to save to save himself and a great man to save another.

You want to be that brave person who saves him from lifelong loathing and regret towards you.

This turning point in your life gives you two options, one where you can hang by a thread and bite your tongue while you continue your life with him, another where you set him free. The latter one wins and you, however, lose. 

“Hey you went silent there. You okay?” He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbones so gently you try not to cry. 

You nod and flash him a smile. Or at least you try to smile and detach yourself from him. “Perfect. Let’s get those cookies baking shall we?” 

Jungkook keeps looking at you with an expression which tells you he’s trying to search for something, but you try not to give anything away. Yet.

He gives you a look, his eyes sparkling under the low light in the room,

“Wait here for a second i’ll be right back” 

“Where are you goi-”

“Just a second. Don’t move” His voice trails off as he goes further into the bedroom. A minute later when he comes back, there’s nothing different about him except the sneaky smile on his face. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist as he sits you on the counter. Your hands instantly clutch his shoulders for support. 

“What is happening, baby?” You mumble, clearly in a fog. 

He says nothing as he gets down on his knees. Taking a hold of your right leg, he places it on his thigh. You swallow.

He looks up, clashing his eyes with yours, “You ask too many questions, do you know that?” 

Seconds later he’s taking something out of his jogger pocket and a cool sensation brushes your skin. You peek down, curiosity finally killing the cat as you see a silver anklet adorned by a pink stone in the middle of it embraced around your ankles. 

His name is a whisper on your lips, “Jungkook”  

He gets up, facing you as he stands. But not before pecking the anklet as well as your skin. His face which earlier was eerie, now entirely soft. 

“Mom sent this for you.” 

You don’t hold back tears this time, letting them run free. You glance at the jewellery again as it shines under the light of the kitchen lamp. The pink stone glares at you as if it knows you’re not worthy of such a valuable item. 

“It’s beautiful”

He gently wipes the tears away,

“It’s just the beginning, love. I’m not gonna stop until I see a band wrapped around your finger. I feel too lonely being the only one there.” 

You playfully smack him on the chest, a giggle slipping free. With a tired shake of your head you admit, “This is overwhelming” 

“What is?” he asks,

“All of this,” you keep your gaze on him, sniffing as you continue,“Your little acts of service, your love, your presence and now this gift. I feel like I’m taking too much not giving enough” 

Your throat feels too tight, as if someone is just cutting off your air supply when you should be feeling free in his arms. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows tense as he reaches for you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he tries to reassure you, “Don’t say that. I hate when you question your worth,” he pecks the back of your hands, “These hands feed me, hold me when I need them to, give me warmth, gentle touches”,

His lips find both of your eyes next as you close them, feeling his soft lips on them,

“These eyes tear up with happiness every time you listen to me in the studio”,

Your ears follow next, “These ears tolerate my snoring”,

Then your lips, “And this mouth, my favourite, whispers ‘i love you’ to me every morning, leaves kisses on my skin, screams my name and most importantly, forms the loveliest smile when I make you happy.” His eyes are oh so gentle as he says this. 

You’re about to respond when his phone buzzes on the counter next to you. Your heart stops. Fuck is it Dr. Ana?

To your surprise, it’s Jimin’s number on the screen.

��Pick it up, honey. It might be important.” 

His thumb presses on the red button as he declines the call, “I’ll talk to him later. My girlfriend comes first.” 

Neither of you say a word as the room gets filled with a comfortable silence. The cookies are long forgotten, your eyes doing all the talking. Even if you try your hardest you’re not sure you can say anything which is remotely justifiable of what he just said to you.

Jungkook is so much more than meets the eye, he’s vulnerable, he’s empathetic, he’s loving. His eyes shine the brightest when he’s happy about something and you’re so full of contempt about the fact that eventually you will be the one to snatch away that shine. This hornet’s nest is going to ruin me, ruin him. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad” He whispers, leaning closer but you stop him with your palms on his chest.

“Wait, I-I want to talk about something” 

His voice is downright pleading when he says, “Later baby. I’m fucking gonna die if I don’t take that mouth right now. Please?” his breath touches your bare lips. 

Feeling a flutter in your chest you nod and he leans towards you, hand cupping your lower jaw as he touches his lips to yours. Softly at first, then his pace quickens. Your hands grab his sweater as you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss. His moan echoes followed by your own as you both lose yourselves in each other. You let go of every menacing thought and just focus on the taste of his lips. 

He pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath as he fills his chest with air. Those beautiful lips are pink and swollen from the heated kiss you just shared with him. Getting rid of the sweater, he tosses it aside as his eyes sparkle with amusement.

Without wasting any time he begins nibbling at your neck, slightly biting onto it as your hands run over his back. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. Not to toot your own horn but you have the most gorgeous boyfriend and you’re not ashamed to show him off. 

His lips ghost over your nipples from over your high neck top and you groan.

“Jungkook, please” 

He pulls back with a smug look on his face, “Please what ____?” 

“Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad.” 

“Yeah? Is that what my girl wants?” 

At this point your body is thrumming with anticipation and desire as you watch him move his hands closer to the waistband of your pants. His hands pause when they meet the lace material, his pupils dilate. 

He smiles, “It’s the one I gifted you. Were you hoping for this huh?” 

Your lips stretch into a smile. You hadn’t particularly hoped for this, no, because your relationship with him is not just based on physical pleasures. You guys have sex of course, but it’s not the prominent part of the bond you share. It’s more than that. The lace lingerie set was gifted to you by Jungkook on a random day. It was one of those quote unquote just because gifts. 

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a quick kiss. 

He grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you there for a moment before leaning back and looking straight into your eyes. “I think you should lose it or else I’ll ruin it” 

You gasp, swatting him on the bicep. “Don’t you dare. It’s my favourite pair”  

Without preamble he picks you off the counter making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both are so close it takes your breath away. Chest to chest, groin to groin, face to face with lips inches away from each other’s as you share a breath. 

He walks into your shared bedroom as you clash your lips against his, pulling his lower one between yours, earning a groan out of him. You both are downright feral, letting your hands run over every area of each other’s body. Jungkook’s hands grabbing your ass, yours pulling on his hair lightly before trailing down his chest, pausing on his pecs. 

When you reach your bedroom, he sits himself down with you on top of his lap. Your hips move forward and you hiss as your still jean clad pussy brushes his cock. He’s so hard you wonder if he’s close to coming already. 

Rough hands scrape over your back, hips, down your thigh before they finally settle on either side of your waist, gipping them tightly but also with a hint of gentleness. One thing you admire about your man is that he doesn’t treat you like a fragile woman, he knows you’re strong and you’ll not break if he’s rough with you. 

Jungkook pulls back from your lips.“Fuck honey, you’re such a goddess. Look at this body. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine” 

You shake your head, totally under his spell. “I’m the lucky one here, baby. You have no idea how lucky I am.” 

His hand brushes over your ass before he dips it inside your pants, reaching your already soaked pussy as he pushes a finger inside you. This earns a whimper from you as you tip your head back. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, ____. Want me to show you how lucky I am?” He takes the finger out before pumping it back again. You moan as his other hand gips the nape of your neck and he brings his mouth to your neck, biting on it. 

“Oh my god” you cry, seeing him suck the finger clean and face forming an expression filled with the deepest level of satisfaction as he closes his eyes. 

Setting his eyes back on you, he sighs, “This isn’t my first time tasting you, honey. But it gets better every fucking time and I find myself craving you an unhealthy amount, you know that? Do you know how crazy I am for you? Could eat you out everyday and wouldn’t need anything else to feel full.” His words send a shiver down your spine. “You’re my favorite meal.” 

He pushes three fingers back inside with a slight force and you let out a scream, arching your back. He takes one nipple into his mouth and gives it a long suck, letting it go with a loud pop. 

“Oh yes, just like that. Suck it again, baby” You beg and he does exactly that as he takes the other sensitive bud into his mouth. 

You’re not sure if you have been this vocal about your needs with anyone before him. Not that you dated a lot, for a person who’s a hopeless romantic to the core you’ve always found yourself waiting for the right one. Additionally, you believed your body to be as sacred as a temple. Surely there had to be a guy somewhere who would treat it as such.

Then, enters Jungkook who not only was out of your league metaphorically but literally. He lived miles away from your place so there was not a chance you could have let anything take place between the both of you. But as they always say, the heart wants what it wants. To put it briefly, there was chemistry, a connection you didn’t want to lose.

Strong fingers pump into you. In and out, in and out. “You’re so wet. What do you say? Should I lick you clean?” 

“Yes, ah oh my goodness that’s sooo good” you toss your head back, slowly grinding against his hands. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, lifts you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed. Keeping his eyes still locked with yours he gets rid of his jogger, letting his cock spring free.

It bobs and you lick your lips, already wanting to take it into your mouth but you know for a fact that he wouldn’t let you do that, not because he doesn’t want you to but because he wants to give you the highest amount of pleasure first. As he always does. 

Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh as gives his cock a pull, his eyes running over your whole body. Up and down then back at your face again. You’re still not fully bare in front of him while he’s standing there, all in his glory. 

“Lose the pants” he commands. 

You immediately slide out of them and toss them on the floor somewhere. He grabs you by the hips, jerking you to the edge of the bed as he sinks down on his knees. Spreading your legs wider he releases a breath. Warmth touches your wet pussy and you prop yourself up by the elbows to look at him. 

You need to look at him if you want to stay sane, have to feel him with you here. Shivers run through you even by the thought of not being able to feel him and this ever again. This might as well be your last day on this god awful planet from the way the ache in your chest keeps on increasing. It makes a home there, not letting you entirely forget about the eventualities. 

“God you’re dripping, honey” 

“For you” you admit.

Hot and wet kisses are left to the inside of your thigh and your hands find the back of his head as you grip it lightly. 

His head lifts up, his eyes finding yours, “Don’t hold back,____. Grip it as tightly as you want to. I don’t want any hesitations because when I fuck you, I’m not going to be holding back. You hear me?” 

A desperate moan leaves you, and he rewards you by kissing your pussy. Keeping his eyes on you, he doesn’t give you a chance to whine out your needs before his tongue is licking a single line up your clit.

He moans and gently tugs on your clit. “Such a perfect cunt” 

You push his head against your pussy and rock forward, chasing your orgasm. 

“Feels so good, feels so perfect, baby” you murmur.

Just when you’re starting to feel the climax incoming, when Jungkook suddenly grabs you by the waist and flips you, so he’s lying down and you’re on top. Then, he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you for a heated kiss. 

He pulls back, “Sit on my face, my queen” 

Your eyes widen and you hesitate, but you don’t want to. You wanna let go, knowing you’re lucky enough to get something like this in this lifetime, so you give in. He hoists you up by the hips, positions you over his face and pulls you down. His warm breath feels like a soft whisper against your pussy. 

You cry out in pleasure as soon as his tongue dives deep inside you, squeezing your tits in your hands. Grinding against his face, you close your eyes and just… feel. Feel the heat, feel the emotions, feel the intimacy, feel the ache in your chest.

A thought crosses your head and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, something selfish. Touching him like this and getting consumed by him feels like you’re doing nothing but ruining him. 

He sucks on your clit with sheer eagerness and desire, pulling you further down so you’re putting your weight on his face. Concern perks up and you look down, trying not to crush him but it seems like he couldn’t care less. 

“Let go, honey. Just focus on my mouth.” 

Let go. God, how bad you hate those words. They feel like acid in your ears. 

“Keep going, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stop” you cry out. 

Soon enough you’re aching your back, cunt pulsing against his lips as you come. He swallows every single drop as if he’d die if he doesn’t and leaves you in awe. You slump, letting your body relax.

Much to your amusement, he doesn’t give you enough time to relax before he’s turning you over until you’re on your knees. Hot passionate kisses are placed on your sweaty back, pulling a gasp from you. 

“What a fucking sight. I wish you could see how stunning you look right now and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? This glistening back, this wet cunt,” he strokes a finger down your pussy, “It’s all because of me and you dare to call yourself lucky?” 

You catch a sight of him stroking himself over your shoulders and your breath quickens. 

His abs are glistening with sweat and his chin still has your cum on it. 

He smirks, “Like what you see, honey” 

“You’re beautiful” 

His eyes soften, letting his hands drop from his angry and already leaking with precum cock, he grabs either side of your hips and lines himself against your needy pussy. You let your head drop on the mattress and clench your fist, preparing yourself for him. He gives your cunt a slight slap with his cock before filling you in, groaning as he goes deeper.

You moan, “Fuck baby. That’s so deep.” 

“You’re so warm, honey. You feel like home” he thrusts again. 

His hands grip yours, and he covers your body with his own, still thrusting inside with rough movements. His chest feels warm and safe against your back as it fills you with a deep sense of safety, protection and love.

You match every thrust of his with your own, moving your hips backwards. Your tits are getting equal attention from him as he pinches the two sensitive buds between his fingers. 

You both chase your high with you screaming out his name and him whispering yours like a prayer. He gives in one last thrust before he’s coming inside you, his teeth biting on your shoulder. You’re following him soon as you grip the bed sheet tighter in your fist, moaning as you come. 

Before you collapse, he pulls you upright and lets his cock slide out of you. His fingers push his cum inside your throbbing cunt, making your stomach twist in pain.

You murmur. “I love you” 

His lips stretch into one of those lazy smiles you love so much. “I love you too, my precious girl. Now, do you wanna sleep or go make those cookies?” a sloppy kiss is pressed on your forehead. 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him on top of you, “Should we save those for later? I really wanna cuddle” 

He presses a soft kiss on the tip of your button nose, “Sure. Let me clean you up first. You don’t have to move an inch, just relax.” 

Minutes later he’s coming back with a bottle of water and a bowl of marshmallows. You bite back a chuckle when you look at his face. There’s such a deep crease between his eyebrows you’d think he’s trying to win a game of uno or something. 

But it’s short lived when he places the items on the nightstand and gazes at you, his eyes having the same funny look they had earlier in the kitchen.You try to summon your most unbothered and good natured grin but it doesn’t do shit to stop the electricity from running through your blood. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, biting your lip.

An uncertain laugh slips out of him, “I don’t know. I’m- God, I really don’t know but I have this weird feeling that something is not right.” He begins cleaning you up but you can’t shake the feeling of nervousness and anxiety away. 

You know for a fact that he’s right. Something is not right, in fact nothing is right. 

He peeks at you from between your legs, “Hey, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” 

The air whooshes out of your lungs. Should you come clean? Is it the right time? 

You huff a tight laugh. “It’s nothing actually. Can we talk about it later?” 

When he’s done cleaning you up he places a small kiss on both your knees and stands up. Offering you a nod, he says, “Whenever you feel like it. I’m not going anywhere” 

Yet. He’s not going anywhere yet. 

You grin, “I wouldn’t let you” 

He lets a laugh slip out as he walks inside the bathroom. Then, he comes back, settles himself beside you and brings you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. His feet find yours as he touches the anklet with them. 

“Let’s sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” he promises. 

Morning comes quickly as the sun casts its glow on your sleepy yet excited eyes. Holding out a hand, you try searching for your boyfriend next to you, but a slight sting arises in your heart when he’s not there. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight. 

Although, you hoped you did not wake up, you hoped death consumed you in your sleep because the person across from you is a total stranger. A stranger whose eyes are misty and mouth is pulled down in deep frown, a sunflower bouquet in one hand and the other one holding a blue file so tightly you can see his knuckles turning white.

Jungkook holds out the file to you, “How long were you planning to hide this from me,____?” 

For the first time in your life, you hate your name. You hate how bitter it sounds coming from his mouth like this.It has always been “____, you’re my everything,” “I love you,____”, “_____, you mean the world to me”.

Acid bubbles in your stomach at his words, and you can’t help but sob. You wonder if the butterfly was preparing you for this day. If she could talk, what would she have said to you? 

The words that leave him next might as well be daggers in your chest, "Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?"

@fluttershy-vanilla @theyysam37 love you pookies. enjoy <3

[flamingpudding]

Jail Buddies

Once a month, Jason makes an effort to meet Dick on purpose. Sometimes even more. After all, he was a good little brother checking in with his brother. Though he had a rather uncontroversial way of doing so. One that involved getting led into a jail cell of your local police department and loudly demanding to speak to Officer Grayson.

Okay, maybe it wasn't like that it was an effort to check on his brother and just one of his many listed dumb moments of recklessness he got caught for. And he was maybe using his brother to get out without having to call Cass, Steph, Duke, Tim, Damian, Alfred or Bruce, in that order depending who was willing to bail him out every time Dick had his 'Little Wing you won't learn if I keep bailing you out.'-Phases again. Or if Dick was being petty because of a recent prank war.

Either way, while Jason was waiting for Dick to make his entrance in his cell he noticed the teen boy sharing the cell with him staring at him wide eyed. He arched an eyebrow, and decided on a whim to make friendly conversation.

"So what got you here kid?"

The teen blinked as if just realizing Jason had addressed him before grinning a bit feral, his blue eyes having an unnatural glow. "Vandalism."

Jason's eyebrow rose again, but the teen continued.

"Trashed mu place and gave my guardian's car a pretty paint job and some other stuff."

"You vandalized your own place? And got arrested."

"Fruitloop decided an overnight stay was a better punishment then leaving me unattended."

The teen shrugged and Jason couldn't help but feel like he just had heard a red flag. He opened his mouth to question the kid more but than his brother finally made his entrance.

"Little Wing! What did you do this time!?" Jason could see that Dick was out to start a rant but changed tunes when he noticed the teen.

"Danny or Dan? You are here again? When did they bring you in? Trouble at home?" Dick asked, and Jason clearly saw the telltale signs of information fishing bat style.

"Danny and the usual." Danny, as Jason now learned the kid's name was, shrugged nonchalantly like this wasn't the first time he and Dick had had that exchange.

"Seriously buddy? I had a rebellious phase as teen too but to regularly trash your home to the point that someone calls the police or vandalize your guardian's cars, buildings, advertisements or anything that has to do with him is not a solution kid." Jason arched an eyebrow at Dicks tone, feeling slightly reminded of whenever Dick lectured one of them.

"Oh I know. But it's a nice stress reliever, plus you guys are nice here. I get pizza as dinner whenever I stay the night." The kid grinned and Jason couldn't help the snort that earned him a little glare from Dick.

Instead of arguing further his brother let out a suffering sigh and let Jason out of the cell, waving him towards the exit and following him shortly after giving the kid one more look that looked like a mix between stern and pleading to stop being a rebellious teen.

Once out of earshot, Jason then chose to ask. "So what's the kid's deal?"

"Nothing, just a rebellious teen reminds me of Damian when he first appeared. He has a twin and a little sister as far as I know, both of them also known here. Their guardian is an upstanding man, though." Jason heard the hidden but.

"Did someone look into it?" He hummed more as a cover.

"Higher ups don't know, but i am running an investigation." Translation Bruce is unaware, but Dick was using Bat resources for looking into the kid's residence.

"Nice kid, didn't think he was a regular." He only commented.

"Nice and polite, you wouldn't think he did some of the things he was brought in for. Distrustful though, despite his friendly nature."

Jason nodded as Dick went through the papers to bail him out, a thought popping up in his head. Clearly, something was up with the kid that had his brother worried, and it looked like he was stuck on just doing his investigation. So, being the thoughtful little brother he was, Jason decided to help his brother.

In his uncontroversial ways, of course.

"Yo Danny, also here?" Jason grinned as he was led into the same cell the teen was in a week later.

[blaire-apricity]

hi! i just wanted to say I love your writing! I noticed your requests were open and I was wondering if you could please write something with Sylus x reader where Sylus gets jealous of MC’s coworker or anything like that. Thank you!! 🩷

Possession and Jealousy

sʏʟᴜs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

���❅ ┆ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ┆ : 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯?

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ┆ : 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘖𝘖𝘊

─────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

Calling Sylus the most jealous man you knew was an understatement; he should be the ONLY man you know. That’s his point. He’s possessive of his possessions, whether material or not, and that included you. If only you would stay in the N109 zone, then he could keep an eye on you at all times.

But knowing you had to return to Linkon City sooner or later, he didn’t stop you. After all, he gave you a brooch so you could return to him anytime.

What he didn’t expect was you taking your time to return. You had no other business there for now, and you had a job as a hunter to keep. Of course, you had responsibilities in Linkon City.

During his free time, he would impatiently rest his chin on his palm, elbows on the table, frowning at nothing. The mere fact of your absence irritated him, though he wouldn’t openly admit it to anyone. Even while fulfilling his errands and business meetings as usual, his mind occasionally drifted towards thoughts of you.

Where were you? What were you up to? And whatnot.

Luckily enough, he had Mephisto monitoring you at all times. The mechanical crow would always stand on the power wires, acting almost innocently, but you knew it was basically stalking you. Not that you minded; it was both amusing and endearing to have Sylus monitor you every day using Mephisto.

The mechanical crow would usually return to Sylus at night before going back out in the morning to observe more. From the moment you woke up until the end of the day when you retreated to the comfort of your blankets, Mephisto was there.

Everything was as usual that night. Sylus sat by his bed in his sleeping robe, glasses on, a book in his lap. Just in time, the mechanical flap of Mephisto’s wings echoed until it reached his bedside.

His crimson eyes skimmed through the pages of the book, occasionally glancing at the screen playing your entire day as observed by Mephisto.

Nothing was out of the ordinary until he saw the same guy, who seemed to be a newly hired hunter, coming up to your desk repeatedly. You, being the kind and helpful hunter you were, always assisted him.

That’s when Sylus’s attention to the book gradually disappeared. He stared intensely at the hologram of the new hunter beside you. If looks could kill—there’s no need, because he’d personally deliver that.

The next morning, as you prepared as usual, you noticed Mephisto was nowhere on the power cords. You made sure to glance around, but there was no trace of the mechanical crow. You dismissed it, thinking Sylus had used Mephisto for something more important.

But imagine your surprise when you heard a knock at your apartment door. You instantly recognized the messy silver hair and crimson eyes staring down at you.

You stood there, blinking up at him. He frowned a bit, looking annoyed. “So?” he asked, probably waiting for you to welcome him in. His face spelled out three words: ‘Let me in.’ You eventually did.

“Where’s Mephisto?”

“You’re looking for him when I’m right here?”

You almost looked at him in disbelief. Is he being petty about his own mechanical crow? You almost cracked a chuckle but held it in. “Never mind.”

“I’m surprised you’re here; don’t you have something important to do?” you asked.

“I do. I just came by since I’ll be leaving shortly,” he replied, walking towards you. He leaned in, giving a quick poke on your forehead. His small signature smirk was plastered on his lips. “Stop entertaining other people. People might think you’re still single.”

“Are you jealous?” You smiled, laughing a bit.

“I am,” he bluntly said, crossing his arms and tilting his head slightly to the side, giving you that dominant look. “And I don’t like it when someone gets close to what’s mine.”

You immediately connected the dots, figuring it was probably the intern that had been asking for your assistance who triggered his possessiveness. Even then, you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as you placed your hand on his cheek, gently caressing it, reassuring him.

He released a soft sigh, annoyed by your antics but also endeared by them.

It even surprised you that Sylus didn’t do anything to that individual. He was acting very tame; he just seemed to have approached you, which was a bit unusual. Maybe it was your gentleness rubbing off on him.

Thank goodness. It would be pretty bad if something were to happen.

You thought that was the end of it until you returned to the association and heard from Tara that the newbie insisted on being placed in a different faction from yours.

“He really didn’t want to stay; I wonder if we did something wrong,” she wondered thoughtfully.

You hesitated in your mind, immediately thinking of Sylus. Just then, you saw Mephisto land on a nearby power cord, tilting its head innocently at you.

“Captain Jenna wants to talk to us about it.”

“That bastard,” you muttered under your breath.

·❆　　　❆　❅　　　　•　　　　.　　　　　❆❆• 　·　.　　　❅

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐴𝑙𝑠𝑜, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘, 𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑛~♥ 𝐼 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑜, 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑓𝑢𝑛 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑢𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 <3

𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑎 𝑋𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑢𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑔𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑚. 𝐻𝐴𝐻𝐴𝐻𝐴𝐻𝐴𝐴𝐻𝐴. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝑀𝐴𝑁 𝐷𝑂𝐸𝑆 𝑊𝑂𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅𝑆 𝑇𝑂 𝑀𝑌 𝐵𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑁.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 9

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 8 | Series Masterlist | Part 10

Chapter Summary: Bucky takes you home, but will he keep his hands to himself?

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.7k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought you heard the men wish you well once more when Bucky led you out of the office. You weren’t completely sure since you tried to block everything out, but attempting to disassociate wouldn’t exactly do you any good. The night wasn’t over yet and you had to stay sharp. You didn’t know what Bucky had planned for when he got you home. Were you prepared at all?

Not in the least.

You half expected to walk back through the front of the club to leave, but Ray directed you to a door near the back once he gave Bucky a nod. The car was waiting in the alley and you took a moment to glance up at the sky. You could only make out one star and you wished in that moment you could grow wings and fly away. But when did wishing upon a star do you any good?

“Let’s get you back to your place,” Bucky said, helping you into the car.

You had to give him credit for trying to keep up his end of the bargain by getting you home on time. Your body refused to relax though once he sat beside you and took your hand. Was he trying to get you accustomed to his touch? Make you crave him? It bothered you that in spite of your determination he drew you in to a certain degree. But you wouldn’t let him take you to bed tonight. You weren’t ready to cross that inevitable line.

Maybe, just maybe, if your performance in bed disappointed him, he’d get bored and walk away. The thought almost made you laugh. That wasn’t happening. If anything, he’d probably love teaching you how to be his perfect lover.

“I think tonight went well,” Bucky smiled.

“Which part exactly?” You mumbled, pulling your hand away. The part where he forced you to go, how his men all but admitted they knew Bucky stalked you, or how they beat the hell out of a man?

“Just the night in general. I knew everyone would love you, but I really think Thor wants to be your big brother now,” Bucky replied. You wanted it so badly to be endearing, but Thor was dangerous. He mentioned a father-in-law. How exactly did he find his wife? And bringing up the flower donations to the hospital. Bucky seemed upset. Why? “Which he’ll have to fight Steve for.”

“Fighting. You guys seem to excel in that arena,” you said, remembering how they all took turns beating up John. “But I guess Steve does have a bit of that ‘big brother’ vibe, helping you take total control of my life and whatnot.”

“Not total control. I’m still letting you work, but maybe I can buy the shop.” He chuckled at your thunderous expression. The light threat had you seeing red. “I probably shouldn't joke about that, should I?”

“Letting me work? Like it’s your decision? And don’t you dare buy the shop.” You pushed at him to keep from slapping him when he chuckled again. Not with enough force to get him far away from you, but you needed some sort of space in the vehicle. He also needed a good hit over the head. “You’re a bully, do you know that? So are your friends.”

His laughter died off quickly when he reached out and gently took your hand again, prying your fingers away from your palm. You didn’t notice it stung from your nails until he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You think we’re bullies?” He asked against your skin.

“Yes. Besides nearly beating that jerk to death, you do realize that you use force and threats to dominate and intimidate. That’s a form of bullying, Bucky,” you said. Was he deliberately being obtuse or was he lost in his delusion that this was all normal?

“I wouldn’t say we’re bullies. I call it protecting and keeping what’s mine,” he said. There was no shame on his end.

“Right. Because I’m a possession and not a person,” you said, your face scrunching up as you tried not to cry. You needed rest. If part of Bucky’s plan was to wear you down by overwhelming you, mission accomplished. “I’m so tired. I just want to go to bed.”

“You’re a person, not a possession, Kotyonok. And not just a person, a good person who gives so much of herself to others. And probably one of the only people who rightfully calls me out on my shit.” His response drew you up short. “Outside of my friends, no one else does that.”

“Maybe because they’re afraid of you and what you can do,” you said after a moment. Fear could make anyone say what they thought people wanted to hear. “Either that or they want your approval,” you added, which you could also understand to a point. People wanted a sense of belonging, especially with those who had influence and power.

“Maybe they are afraid,” he agreed, brushing his lips against your palm again with a sigh. “What is it about me that scares you most?”

“I’m not really sure exactly,” you admitted. There was so much about the situation that terrified you. What he was capable of. How he inserted himself into various aspects of your life and so quickly. How far he was willing to go to keep you. “But I think it’s your conviction. That you’re so sure that I’m your other half and no one can convince you otherwise, not even me.”

You could scream until your lungs gave out that you didn’t belong with him and you knew in your heart he’d argue until his last breath that you did. He was steadfast in that belief that you were soulmates. That conviction was so strong that what you really feared was that he would somehow convince you that he was right: that you belonged together.

Those steel blue eyes of his met yours and mesmerized you for a heartbeat before you looked away. “Love is scary. It’s natural to be afraid of it.” His lips brushed your ear, making you shiver. “But giving someone the most fragile parts of yourself is one of the bravest things a person can do.”

There was truth in his words, but it felt like he moved another chess piece into place. He was trying to disarm you and you couldn’t let him. “Who painted that black dahlia in your office?” You asked suddenly, feeling him move back enough that you could turn your head toward him. “And why display that flower?” You didn’t believe for a second that he chose it for aesthetic purposes.

“Beautiful, isn't it? Steve painted it,” he replied with an odd mixture of affection and bitterness. “It’s for my parents.”

“Steve is a gifted artist.” You hoped your voice stayed even enough that Bucky wouldn’t get jealous of you complimenting another man’s talent. “I don't know if the symbolism of flowers mean anything to you, but the black dahlia-”

“Betrayal. Sadness. Darkness,” he ticked off, his voice cold enough that another shiver moved through your body. “It was the last flower my dad ever got my mom and it serves as a reminder.”

You swallowed as warning bells sounded in your mind to tread carefully. “And what's that?”

He moved close, your eyes shutting as his hand wrapped around the nape of your neck. “That I'll never do to you what he did to her.”

There was suppressed rage within him. Sorrow. It rolled off him in waves strong enough that they could drown you. He said earlier that his dad got what he deserved. What had he done to his mom?

“You’re in pain,” you whispered. He was hurting and you logically shouldn’t care. So why did you want to know the cause of that hurt? “You have to tell me why.”

It wasn’t for you to use to your advantage. You weren’t sure if you could manipulate someone else. If you knew what happened though, it would at least give you more answers to who Bucky was and why he was the way he was. It could help you gain some sort of understanding.

“I’m not in pain when I’m with you,” he whispered, bringing your hand on his chest. Was he relying on you to chase away whatever haunted him? “Later. I’ve overwhelmed you enough for one evening.”

You let out a breath. You swore he was doing this on purpose, giving you just enough information that you’d wait around until he gave you more. “I can’t argue with you there,” you said, his heart racing under your touch. “Just answer one thing for me, please.”

“What’s that?”

“Marc from the bookstore,” you began, the man’s kind face shimmering in your mind. “Did anything happen to him?”

“I’d question another man being on your mind, but I know you’re just concerned about his well-being.” An easy smile crossed Bucky’s face as you bit your tongue. You could think about anyone you wanted to. “I can’t speak for him right this second, but he was perfectly fine when you and I left. He was just having a chat with one of my associates.”

You exhaled, thankful Marc wasn't hurt. “What kind of chat?” You asked. He was a nice guy, though he did seem to know a bit about Bucky. What exactly was he involved in?

“He just got a warning to be careful about what he does or doesn’t say to his customers.” You tensed before he kissed your forehead. Did he know about the conversation you two had? “And I don’t think the two of you should be alone with each other in the bookstore going forward.”

Just when Bucky had you feeling some sort of sympathy for him moments ago he shocked you right out of it. “Another decision that isn’t yours to make,” you stated, the car coming to a stop. “And you really don’t have to walk me up. I think we’ve had enough of each other’s company tonight.”

“I said I’m tucking you into bed and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” The smile he gave you was nothing short of cocky when he added, “And you owe me a photo. I’m going to get it.”

He was a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t let that go. “Why don’t you just take a photo of me giving you the finger?” You suggested as he helped you out of the car.

“Only if you do it with a smile. I’ll even set it as the background on my phone,” he winked. Your reluctance and defiance of him didn’t phase him in the slightest. “And if you give me the finger, I’ll take it as an invitation that you want to fuck me.”

“Let’s go, please.”

You said nothing else as you went into the building, your anxiety mounting by the second. The slow rise of the elevator didn’t help, Bucky’s hip pressed against yours like he couldn’t stand to have space between you. You figure he’d shove you against the wall and claim your mouth, but he didn’t make a move. It impressed you that he behaved until you got to your floor. It didn’t stop your hand from shaking when you got your keys out.

“Still don’t want to say good night now?”

“I don’t want to say good night at all,” he answered, following you into the apartment and turning on the light. The welcoming feeling you expected when you got home wasn't there. There was a chill in the usual warmth.

“Well, you’ll have to sooner or later,” you said, swallowing when you faced Bucky. He shut the door and watched intently as you set your keys and bag down. You were quiet as you stared back, tension thick as you tried to predict what he was going to do. Once again, he managed to hold all the power in your home.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He asked, heat and hunger in his stare as he slowly advanced.

Your throat went dry as you stepped back. “You have.”

“So beautiful and so good.” You made another move to retreat when he stepped forward, his manner confident and compelling as he reached out and prevented you from moving back further. “It’s driving me crazy not having you yet.”

“Please, you don’t…” you trailed off when he sank to his knees, unexpected heat flowing from your core. He guided one of your hands to his shoulder to brace yourself, his eyes soft as he helped remove one of your shoes. You found it difficult to breathe as he removed the other, his hand brushing your ankle with infinite tenderness. Like it was an honor to touch and be on his knees for you.

“I know the first time I taste you I’ll never want to stop. I’ll have to wake up every day between your thighs. Fall asleep that way, too.” His hand slid up your calf and his eyes darkened when your other hand found its way to his thick locks. Wetness gathered between your legs when his touch moved to your thigh. “Your pussy is hungry for me, isn’t it? My fingers, my tongue, my cock. I’ll feed her well.”

His voice was like velvet. Seductive. Aching. “Bucky…” Your breath rushed out swiftly when he kissed your mound through your clothes, tormenting you with arousal you didn’t ask for. It frightened you.

“I can smell you,” he murmured, nosing along where his lips had been before he sat back. “Smell so fucking good.”

Moving your shoes out of the way, he rose to his full height again as you willed your legs not to shake. You weren’t used to anyone looking at you, let alone speak to you, the way he did. Stark desire. Possessiveness. His form of love. Your heart pounded and you refused to answer him or glance down. If you looked at the front of his pants…

He took your hand and pulled you in the direction of the bedroom. Your heart pounded with mounting speed, your heels digging into the floor. “You still haven't kissed me,” you blurted out, hoping it would prevent him from taking you to bed. Or would he take that as an invitation to kiss your lips?

“No, I haven't.” You tried to keep some distance between you as he went to your bed, his hand moving along the blanket. You couldn't breathe. “It scares you how much your body wants mine, doesn’t it?”

“Is that what you think?” You asked, forcing air back into your lungs. It did scare you. It also scared you that you didn’t push him away or scream when he dropped to his knees to remove your shoes. Where was your fighting instinct?

“It is what I think.” The ease in which he moved away from the bed to your dresser to find your pajamas frightened you, too. Like he belonged in your room. You thought back to the night he broke in and left your gift on your bed. How much time did he take to look around? “Like love, giving your body to someone can be scary. You have to trust that you won't get hurt when you’re physically vulnerable.”

“You swore you wouldn't hurt me,” you reminded him.

“And I won't. But you know what else I think?” His magnetic gaze stayed on you as he brought a nightgown over. “That no guy has ever really taken care of you and you’re apprehensive to let me try.”

If you were apprehensive, it was because he was a walking red flag. “What makes you…” Your words stopped when he grasped the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up. Your arms instinctively went up before you realized what you were doing. Removing your shirt, you didn’t get a chance to cover your breasts before he slipped the nightgown on you.

“Your past boyfriends never did anything for you. Emotionally, physically,” he stated, sliding his hands under the nightgown to your hips. Grasping the hem of your pants, he pushed them down as far as he could. “I’ll bet they didn’t even buy you flowers and used the excuse that they didn’t because you’re a florist.”

The words were tiny cuts on old wounds, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. “And you will?”

“I will. I’ll give you the life and love you deserve, making you forget any other man out there existed before me.” His eyes raked over you as you stepped out of your pants, your panties still soaked. “But I’m not gonna fuck you.”

Exhaling slowly, relief flooded you. Though you couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t trying to take what he wanted. “You won’t?”

“Not tonight.” He shook his head even as his fingers moved along your waist. “Like I said, I’ve overwhelmed you enough. Sleeping with you might really put you over the edge.”

“Thanks.” He desired you, but continued to hold it at bay for your sake. How long would that last? “I appreciate that.”

“And we both know the moment I take you to bed, you’ll be begging for more.” His voice dropped as he toyed with the soft fabric. “And as much as I want to stay in bed with you all night and morning and give us what we both crave, I still need to get things in place at the penthouse and you need rest. You understand.”

You tried not to smile and failed. He acted as if he was doing you a favor. Cocky bastard. “I guess we’ll just have to suffer until then.” Sarcasm continued to be a good way to deflect.

He exhaled at your light teasing, his body still a bit tense. Being close to you and not having you was probably driving him mad. “Maybe we'll have to have another private call and finish what we started. Give us both some relief.” He turned you toward the door and gave you a light swat on your ass. “Go wash your face and brush your teeth before I change my mind.”

You made it to the bathroom in record time, not having to be told twice. You didn’t want to risk staying there in case he lost his resolve. Looking in the mirror as you went through the rest of your nighttime routine, you expected to look more exhausted from the whirlwind of the day. You somehow looked wide awake. Was the experience giving you thicker skin? Or did his desire for you somehow give you a bit of a twisted spark? You’d still be billing him for your future therapy bills either way.

A couple of deep breaths and you made your way back to your bedroom. You paused when you saw Bucky holding a framed photo of you and your friends, longing in his eyes when he lifted his gaze. “You look so happy,” he murmured, carefully setting the frame down on the nightstand before he pulled the blankets back for you. “Can you do me one favor and I’ll go?”

“I was happy. It was a fun day.” You slipped into bed when he gave you space to do so, but his body was still close to yours. Firm. Hard. He really could pin you down and do what he wanted if he wished. “What’s the favor?”

He tucked the blanket around you, his hair falling into his face. You almost reached up to brush it back, but refrained. Who knew what your touch would do? “Look at me like you love me. Please.”

You stiffened as you stared up at his face, your heart simultaneously racing and breaking for him. Love was something that provided a sense of connection, fulfillment. It was a way to show you that you weren’t alone in the world. You wanted to believe you were worthy of love, that you could build a life with someone. Bucky believed he was that someone.

Why?

You weren’t sure if it was his yearning gaze or if you were ready for the night to end, but your expression softened as you imagined meeting him in another life. Going on fun dates, talking about books, making each other laugh as you cooked together, snuggling under a blanket as you talked about your future. You found yourself smiling at the images that went through your mind. What could’ve been. What could be if he lessened his hold a bit on you.

He audibly exhaled when he snapped a photo on his phone, making you blink. “Thank you. Now I can look at this whenever I’m not near you and need to feel your love.”

Words escaped you, the invisible collar around your throat getting tighter. You could only nod and wonder how you kept throwing fuel on the fire of his want for you. Which one of you would burn first?

“Get some sleep. Dream sweet dreams.” You felt featherlight kisses on each eyelid when you shut them. “You know, I’ll sleep a lot easier once you’re in my bed.”

“If you get me into your bed,” you mumbled, refusing to look at him.

“Stubborn kitten.” He chuckled and gave each eyelid one more kiss. Why were his lips so soft? “Maybe I’ll stop by the shop tomorrow so I can take you to lunch. You can tell Addison all about it.”

“Maybe.” You yawned and snuggled more into your pillows. “Good night, Bucky.”

A finger moved along your cheek before it stopped abruptly. “Good night, Kotyonok.”

Bucky still hadn't kissed your mouth.

You didn’t open your eyes as he left, but you didn’t fall asleep right away either. Your body was too wound up. Too many questions went through your mind. Like what happened with his parents and how exactly he’d move you out of your place.

The man was a step ahead in everything. You’d be in his penthouse before the month was over. He’d get his way, but maybe it didn't have to be his way completely. He could give you an area in the place for you and you alone. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. After all, he did say he’d make it up to you by dragging you out tonight.

And if he cared the way he said he did, he could give you that one small thing.

Is our poor Kotyonok starting to accept the inevitable? Will Bucky stop by the shop? And how much longer until he really takes you to bed?Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[revelboo]

got a bit of a silly one for you; which bots would get a kick out of hearing or making their human laugh so hard that they gigglesnort?

I think most of them would be amused, especially if the human is a bit embarrassed. A few would just go out of their way to try and make you do it again

Messing With The Human Headcanons

Trailbreaker

• Loves to make you laugh so hard you’re giggling and your eyes are leaking. Because you’re laughing with him, not at him like everyone else. Knows they whisper about him behind his back. That he’s just the “force-field guy.” Useless unless they need his skills. Overlooked a lot of the time by everyone but Hound. Like that’s all he’s good for. But you don’t care about what he can do, just like him for him. Sure you’d had a rocky start, at odds with each more than you got along. All his fault, every mistake and short-sighted decision all him. But he likes it when you laugh. Loves that smile.

Waspinator

• Leaning over your shoulder to vent against your neck and stir your hair, he huffs and his antenna perk up. Sniffing your coffee. Like he does every morning. Sighing, you hold out the cup. “Want to try some?” And those antenna immediately flatten back to make you think that he doesn’t actually like the way your coffee smells. “Try a bit,” you insist, grinning and he twists his servos together, clearly uncomfortable as you lift it to his face, watching his mandibles pull together and fidget before he reluctantly leans forward. Still find his mouth unsettling as his mandibles spread to reveal his actual mouth and those sharp denta as he obediently takes a drink. And his wings flare out, antenna flattening back. “Good, huh?”

• Not good. Dirt water. Nasty, bitter, dirt water. Whining helplessly at you as you start laughing and point at the sink. Giving him permission to spit it out and you’re wheezing, as he spits and fumbles with the controls like he’s seen you do until he can tip his head under the faucet, get a mouthful and spit again. Why would you drink that? “Waspinator doesn’t like,” he manages, shaking his head and you’re doubled over, snorting and laughing. At him. Can’t even be annoyed with you as your amusement spills through him to warm him. Likes that happy sound even if it’s at his expense.

Brainstorm

• Irritated that you’re laughing at him, instead of impressed. “Wait-is this to impress that other guy? Do you have a bro-crush on Perceptor?” When he doesn’t answer, you crack up, snorting and giggling. And okay. It’s a tiny bit cute. Even if you’re quite possibly the most obnoxious creature he’s ever met. “You do, don’t you? You just want him to notice you. Senpai, notice me!” You’re wheezing now, eyes leaking and he’s changed his mind. There’s nothing cute about you, you’re a little pit-spawned demon sent to torment him and if you breathe a word of this to Perceptor, he’ll offline and take you with him.

Swerve

• “Stop-stop, I can’t breathe,” you gasp, smacking at his servos. Almost screaming you’re laughing so hard and now your eyes are leaking. “You’re awful.” And heads are turning along the bar to stare at you both. Probably wondering if they’re the subject of your amusement. Which is fair enough because he’s been dredging up every bit of dirt on every other crew member he can think of to keep you entertained. Turns out you enjoy gossip as much as he does, but not as much as he loves your snorting laughter and giggles.

TFP Megatron

• “You really think you can make demands?” He growls, carefully hooking a servo through your glittery harness and tugging so you stumble forward a step. Expecting you to become indignant or just angry. Not to reach and carefully remove his clawed servo, patting him.

• “You honestly think I’m the one on the leash?” You say, grinning broadly up at him as he scowls. “I’m the one that’s settling here, because let’s face it. Anger issues and no impulse control even when you’re not on drugs? You’re not exactly the Nemesis’s most eligible bachelor.” There it is, optics narrowing and sharp denta bared in a sharklike grin. “Some of those Vehicons are kind of adorable,” you add, laughing at his expression. Because no matter how much you piss him off, there’s not a thing he can do about it.

• Servos slowly clenching and unclenching, he growls, but knows you’re teasing. Even if he despises your sense of humor. And the more angry he acts, the funnier you think it is until you’re cracking up at his scowl. Little brat. Knows you’ll make it up to him later and that you at least know not to dare voice such things if anyone’s around. Really, he spoils you letting you get away with your attitude. Anyone else would be torn limb from limb, but he enjoys your laughter.

[luveline]

If you’re doing requests could you do KBD during Halloween?

uncle Eddie makes sure Steve has the perfect costume. mom!reader

Steve smiles at himself in the mirror. Wren, in his arms, smiles back. 

“We look handsome,” he says, lifting her so her face is level with his own. “I look handsome. You look beautiful.” 

“Hi,” she says. 

Steve turns down to her. “Hi, baby.” 

Avery climbs onto a chair and waves at the mirror. Her fairy princess dress is shiny blue. “Hello.” 

Beth climbs onto the chair after her, wrapping her arms around Avery’s shoulders. “Hi!” she says, force of her greeting sending her pirates hat careening to the floor. 

“Are you ready?” you call from upstairs. “Everyone still has their shoes on?” 

“Dove doesn’t,” Avery says. 

“Tattle!” Dove cries, a picture of fury in her kitty cat onesie, her glued-on whiskers twitching fiercely.

“Well, you don’t.” 

“My toes are warm,” Dove whines, thrusting herself at Steve’s legs. “Daddy, she’s telling on me.” 

“I know, and now you’re telling on her. You’re my little band of tattle-tales, I don’t love it.” Steve smooths along Wren’s face with his finger and takes in a breath big enough to fill his lungs. “Can you let Beth put your shoes back on?” 

“No.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

You fit Dove into her shoes and get the kids to the car. Four car seats is tough work but nothing you can’t handle, and you’re still in chipper spirits when you arrive at the Munson house. It’s decked out in cobwebs and great big spiders made of tinsel and bendy framing, carved pumpkins leading up the steps with fleshy teeth and candles unburned in their maws. Wren gives a comical gasp when she sees it all, a tad scared but quickly soothed when you pretend to be scared too. 

Beth races up the steps first to knock. 

The door opens a slither. 

“Who goes there?” a dark voice asks. 

“Uncle Eddie, it’s me!” Beth says quickly. Her excitement again sends her hat to the stone patio beneath her cons, but she doesn’t notice it, vying to squeeze through the door and see her favourite uncle. 

“I don’t know any Me’s. You’ll have to come back another day, I’m waiting for my very favourite troupe of little girls.” 

“It’s BETH!” Beth shrieks, “Come on!”

“Bethany?” Eddie pushes the door open, unsurprised when Beth throws herself full force into his legs. “Why, you look dastardly. How very scary of you! You have a parrot!” 

The fake parrot glued to Beth’s shoulder waggles. 

“His name is Sherbet.” 

“Wow.” Eddie gives her a hug, his eyes blowing wide over her shoulder. “Oh, wow! Ave, you’re a princess with wings! And Dove, meow.” He grins at Steve. “And your dad is what, Frankenstein’s monster? A zombie?”

“Dad doesn’t have a costume,” Beth says happily. 

“Are you sure?” 

Steve encourages Dove over the threshold, four wrapped plates of sandwiches and finger foods balanced in the other hand. “That’s not funny. What are you supposed to be, anyways?” 

“I’m a vampire, duh.” Eddie slips a pair of fake fangs into his teeth. “I vant to suck your blood!” 

“Ew, Uncle Eddie,” you say. 

“Don’t think you’ve escaped me, second favourite Harrington,” Eddie says, frowning as you slip around him. “You owe me a hug.” 

“Creep,” Steve says. 

“With pride.” Eddie takes the plates from his arms and somehow, the Harrington troupe makes it safely indoors, no further costume parts fallen nor lost. 

There are more people here than Steve expected, Eddie’s friends, their kids, even Eddie’s elusive boyfriend sits out in the open. 

“What are you supposed to be?” Dove asks him with a grin. 

He turns his head to show a painted bite mark on his neck. “Victim.” 

“He’s a dead guy,” Eddie tells her, helping her where she’s struggling to sit in one of the barstools. “Alright, babe, dad said last year we partied too hard, so here are the ground rules. No pixie sticks, no soda, and no climbing on the kitchen counters. If you follow these rules, I am being allowed to give you a Hershey bar the size of your dad’s massive head. Deal?” 

“How big?” Dove questions suspiciously. 

Eddie goes to the cabinet. Inside, there’s more candy bars than one person should ever have purchased in one go. He pulls out a huge one and holds it nexts to Steve’s head, laughing when Steve bats it away. “Huge.” 

“Dad, dad, can I go play with Milly and Joe?” Avery asks. 

Steve was hoping she would. “Sure, baby. Good manners, okay?” 

Avery whizzes off to find Gareth’s kids. Beth stays by Steve’s side and he forces himself to believe that it’s him she wants to be with, not Eddie. “You don’t wanna go play?” Steve asks her. 

“Not yet.” 

You appear again where you’d been missing with Robin in tow. Steve grins at the sight of her, though he’d spoken to her on the phone last night, and seen her the day before at home. “Buckley!” 

She’s wearing a black dress with a belt and her hair is teased into a short cloud. “You aren’t wearing your costume?” 

Steve moves Beth around unthinkingly. “Yeah, it still smelled like vomit. Wren had too much yoghurt. Rob, you really look like Madonna. Your makeup is–”

“It’s trippy, right?” Eddie asks. 

“Mora did it. It’s like, face sculpting.” 

“It’s weird.” 

“I like it,” you say, Wren on your hip giving an agreeable gurgle. “I like your real face more, but this is cool.”

“And where’s your costume?” Eddie asks. 

You frown down at your nice dress. “You can’t tell?” 

Eddie falls for the trip in your voice and attempts to backtrack, only realising that you’re kidding when Steve laughs. 

“The baby got sick on both of us,” you say, turning Wren so everyone in the kitchen can see her face. “But that’s okay. She’s so cute, she’s forgiven. Aren’t you, gorgeous? You didn’t mean to eat all that yoghurt, daddy just kept feeding you.” 

Steve holds his hands up in surrender. “I feed her every day, I know how much yoghurt she can handle.” 

“Clearly not,” you croon, shooting him a loving smile. “You did save us from those awful costumes, though.” 

“Oh, worry not,” Eddie says, “I figured something like this would happen, and I’ve prepared.” 

Awesome, Steve thinks, groaning as Eddie takes his wrist into his hand and begins to pull on him. Knowing Eddie, Steve’s end up dressed as a demon with giant horns, or a fairy. 

The reality is much, much worse. 

“Hey, look at that! It still fits!” Robin laughs. 

Steve looks down at his little sailor’s uniform and sighs. “Barely,” he says. 

“Say the slogan!” you demand. 

If it were anyone else, Steve would refuse, but you’re sitting at the breakfast bar with Wren tucked under your chin, so he takes a deep breath and straightens his white hat. “Ahoy ladies,” he sighs. “Would you like to… uh, set sail on this ocean of flavour with me? I’ll be your captain, I’m…” —his voice drags reluctantly— “I’m Steve Harrington.”

[rafey-baby]

hidden 3

outlaw!rafe x pogue!reader

c/w: hostage/stockholm syndrome situation, mentions of murder, her having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.3k

hope u enjoy xx

series masterlist

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed— covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow.

She’s confused, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night consists of sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for a few minutes— or what was supposed to be a few minutes.   

Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.   

“Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” she stops to stand next to him.  

“Cause you sleep like a fuckin’ rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to look up from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers. And upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract; letters too tiny for her to read from where she’s standing.  

“Oh— well…thank you?” 

Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.   

“S’whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over, seemingly deep in thought.   

“Do you— do you need help with that?”  

“Nah, m’good,” he lifts his hand to scratch at the back of his head before scribbling something down. 

“Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted to her spot and unable to move.   

“Did you want somethin’ or what?” his tone is suddenly exasperated, brows rising expectantly when his eyes finally flicker up to peer into hers.   

“No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” she can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him— it’s like she’s constantly waiting for his next command to know what to do.

“Nah, jus’ have to go over these. Can you, I dunno, go to your room or something? You’re botherin’ me with your staring,” he grumbles before shifting into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention after that.   

“Sorry,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage because she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach, but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that.

And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing that’s happened to her in the past few years.   

It’s not like she minds living a quiet life on the Cut, she just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends but sometimes she yearns for something more than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock.

When she was a little girl, she had this dream of traveling around the world but her parents made her feel selfish for even thinking about something like that when they were already struggling with money. Therefore, she settled for what she had and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.   

And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy— but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and, maybe for the first time in her life, felt butterflies in her belly. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.   

Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not bothering to understand her needs, making her sort of lose hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps into her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...

It’s wrong. It doesn’t make any sense yet she still can’t help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he’s close. And she doesn’t like it one bit— wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind but she can’t.

It’s far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity, simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage?  

She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer— opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does. Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn’t quite wash away the ache between her thighs.  

She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door before Rafe enters a second later, not even bothering to wait for a response.   

“Change of plans—” his words die out on his tongue when he notices her current state.   

“Rafe what the fuck?” she quickly adjusts the hem to cover her properly; painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him.  

“Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” she complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor and tugging them over her hips.   

“Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were, got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs, sporting an irritating smirk that earns him a glare.

“And you’ve got no manners for a Kook— except, m’not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock.  

“Puppy’s gettin’ angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” his brows furrow and there’s a condescending tinge in his laugh.  

And she’s about to respond when out of the blue, the ring of the doorbell reverberates around the house. They both tense.   

“You expectin’ someone?” his tone turns bleak, frigid— inducing shivers to litter across her arms when her head turns towards the source of the sound.   

“N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.   

“Did you fuckin’ call someone?” he takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.    

“No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” she tries to defend herself.   

“I swear, if you’re lyin’ right now—”   

“I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” she says once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should, um…I should go and see who it is, right?”  

The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options.  

“Right, right— yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider tellin’ them anything, m’gonna fuckin’ find you, you understand?” he grits out into her face, harsh breaths hitting her mouth with each syllable and causing her to flinch.   

She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms.  

“Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” she tries to appear unfazed, inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels.  

“We apologize for the inconvenience, but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul— seeing right through her rickety facade.  

“Have you seen this man recently?” the other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air while she takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.   

“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” she bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it.  

“This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron Development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back, and now we have reason to believe he’s guilty of the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression.  

“Oh. That’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.   

“Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers, making her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.   

“I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening…didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” her question is sharp because the whole case still rubs her the wrong way.  

“That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources, Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.   

“Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek, and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying.  

“Yeah, at this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t really understand why he’d be on this side of the island in the first place. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that, but call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, alright?”   

“Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.   

“We’ll do our best,” they assure before they finally turn to leave.

She leans her back against the closed door, closing her eyes in a moment of relief. All too soon though, she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.   

“Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everythin’ you say too easily then, hm?” his gaze travels down her form, appearing genuinely impressed.   

“You killed a cop?”

“Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helpin’ me with some, uh, some side business ‘n became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like bein’ used ‘n believe me, he wasn’t a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever.  

“Right…” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from, but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not— no matter how good or bad of a person they were.  

“Listen, I, uh, I didn’t mean to do it, it jus’…happened, okay?” he tries to explain himself, sounding almost vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.

“I could go to jail for helping you!” she snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.   

“Calm down, pup. You’re not goin’ to jail, alright? ‘n watch that fuckin’ tone, yeah?” his hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.   

“I just— cops don’t care about pogues. If they find out I lied they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to reason with him, albeit pointlessly.

“Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” he suddenly stops in his tracks.

“Did they, uh, tell you anythin’…useful?” he speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over the situation.  

“Right, right. So, they don’t—uh, they don’t have any actual proof of me killin’ the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms after a moment.   

“I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if those two knew all the details,” she offers in response, practically hearing the wheels turning in his head.   

“They didn’t mention who the witness was?”   

“N— no, why?” her voice wavers as she swallows around the question.

Then, he flits his eyes over to hers in order to inspect her reaction, seeming to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name. “Think m’gonna have to pay them a little visit…‘n you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”

She blinks, wondering what sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.

[pemiski]

tags fem! reader, vs angel! reader, bllk various x reader, jealousy, is this cringe? No actually don’t tell me, not proof read

author’s notes this one is for the girls who stayed up all night to watch the Victoria’s Secret fashion show.. god’s strongest soldiers!

Being a Victoria’s Secret angel was never meant to be easy, but you wondered if they couldn’t have made the job at tiny bit easier for you nevertheless. After all, dealing with the stingy makeup artist, the perfectionist of a hairstylist and the humongous wings was hard enough on its own, but add to that your sulky footballer boyfriend and you’ve got yourself a full plate.

You had expected him to be sitting in the venue, waiting for you to come out and eventually looking around to see if anyone was staring at you just a little bit too much for his taste, but, apparently, your boyfriend wasn’t in the mood to wait that long to see you.

“How did you even get in?” You address him, even though your eyes are riveted on the mirror in front of you.

Looking over at you and seizing you up, he ignores your question, and sighs. “Do you really have to do this? I could’ve just bought you this set you know.”

“It’s not about the money, baby, this is Victoria’s Secret! It’s—“

“So what? Did Victoria blackmail you into walking practically naked in front of thousands of people? Thousands of guys?” He leans on the pillar behind you, and you see his jaw clench from where you’re sitting. The makeup artists hides a laugh, and you’re only one smart remark away from stifling your own.

“No, she didn’t. Look, it’s lingerie, no big deal.” You sit up from your chair, and walk over to him, hips swaying and heels clicking against the floor. “And who knows, maybe they’ll let me bring it home,” your lips make their way to his ear, concealing your next words from prying ears, “To you.”

All of a sudden, everything seems to fade in the background, and he finds himself looking forward to the show. Or more so its end, even if he does tense up every few minutes thinking of what his teammates might think tomorrow.

Whatever, that won’t stop from ravaging you tonight, anyway.

Maybe he’ll try to stop you from putting on concealer when he brings you to practice tomorrow morning. Just in case.

ummm really hope the meaning of the innuendo at the end is understandable 😭😭 if it’s not don’t tell me I WILL jump out of a window + you can imagine the runway as any season’s lmfao 2024 one was ass

@pemiski 2025 - all rights reserved. I do not authorize any reposting translating or modifying of my content on any platform

[berryz-writes]

I'll try harder

11) Ends up in the infirmary a lot, Madam Pomfrey thinks he's a "troubled yet entertaining student"

Theo x reader

"Where is my boyfriend?" I asked Draco, my annoyance increasing with his obvious distractions so he didn't have to answer my question.

He gave me a once over, his cool gaze unaffected by my anger "Your boyfriend is currently busy. I'm sure you'll see him tomorrow...or in a few days depending on the situation"

I was going to pull my hair out if I didn't get a direct answer soon "Draco Malfoy if you don't tell me right now I will drag Pansy here and tell her you like her"

His blank expression didn't change except the flicker of annoyance in his grey eyes "And where did you receive that false information from?"

I smiled at him "Just because it's false doesn't mean people aren't going to believe it. Did you know all it takes is one little whisper for a rumour to be spread across the whole of Hogwarts?"

Draco smirked, crossing his arms "Blackmailing me, y/l/n? Looks like Nott does benefit you in some way."

"Tell me"

"He's in the hospital wing and before you run away to mother him, if I hear a single word about me liking that awful witch-"

"Your threats don't matter to me right now, Malfoy. But thanks anyway" I rushed off to where he had said Theo was, trying to rid my thoughts of everything that I imagined had happened to him. He was fine walking off the quidditch pitch and there were no serious injuries while he played so why was he there?

I knocked on the door, making sure it was loud enough for someone to hear. If the door didn't open I would barge in myself. Before I could do just that Madam Pomfrey opened the door giving me a sympathetic smile "Here to see Theodore?"

I nodded my head trying to see behind her to no avail. All I could see were a few drawn curtains and another few beds unoccupied.

"Go on in then, he's the third one." I rushed past her muttering a quick thank you. She was probably fed up of having me to see me at her door every other day.

I approached the third bed and pushed the curtains to the side. I didn't know what I expected but it wasn't Theo sat up reading a book with his head wrapped in white gauze. Otherwise he looked completely fine.

"Hey" I left a small kiss on his cheek and sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to answer the questions I was too afraid to ask.

He let out a sigh and placed his book near his pillow, shifting further to the left so I had more space on the bed.

"Who told you I was here?"

I furrowed my eyebrows in annoyance and confusion "That's not important. What's important is what are you doing here? Don't tell me you got into another fight"

He gave me a slight smile, his expression showing discomfort.

"Theo. Why? Why are you always fighting?"

"For the record I won the fight, sweetheart."

I scoffed "Well clearly not if you've got that on your head and your opponent isn't even in the hospital wing right now"

He grinned as if he found something funny "He's having a meeting with Snape that's why."

He wasn't getting the point. He just didn't seem to care that what he was doing was wrong and it affected others as well.

"What happened? I want the truth"

His smile dropped, becoming suddenly serious to when I asked for the truth.

"Well, the guy who asked you out the other day and you rejected him. He was talking shit about you so I decided to fuck him up a bit. You know, so he'd know that he didn't have the right to talk about you like that...no one does"

I sighed. The fact that he was fighting because of something said about me was nice of him but I didn't want him hurt because of that.

"Theo he said something about me. Not you. I don't want you hurt every time someone says a single thing against me"

He sat up suddenly, anger evident on his face "And why the fuck not? If he's going to talk about my girlfriend like that do you think I'm just gonna stand there and not do shit all?"

"But Theo your hurt because of it! I don't want that for you"

He slumped back down and didn't bother looking at me "I don't fucking care about being hurt. If I hear a single word against you-"

"Just ignore it!" I was getting annoyed now. Why was he so desperate to be hurt because of something I didn't even care that much about?

"Ignore it? Your fucking crazy if you think I'll ignore something like that"

I stood up ready to do something. Ready to shout at him, to push him off the bed, to do anything but sit there and tell him time and time again that I didn't want him hurt because of something so irrelevant. Tears welled up in my eyes, I tried blinking them away but instead a few fell down making their way down my cheeks.

"Well your good at ignoring one thing! Our fucking date that your missing because of your detention. Is that what you wanted?" I wiped the remaining tears from my face, anger coursing through my veins. Theo finally deigned to look at me after having raised my voice, something I rarely did.

His eyes widened in shock "I didn't realise. Fuck. I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't even realise and- I didn't mean for you to cry. I'm so fucking sorry"

"It's a little late for that isn't it. What does it matter when you've missed the second date this month because of some stupid fighting you can't control"

He leant toward me, reaching for my hand the warmth of his hand seeping into me. "I am so sorry. I am so fucking sorry, sweetheart. What do you want me to do? I swear I won't fight again...unless the person deserves it"

I sat back down, the anger vanishing from me, Theo's comforting hand grounding me.

"Lay down with me. Please." He asked quietly, eyes full of sorrow.

I turned so I could lay down next to him his arm coming around my waist to pull me closer to him. He dropped a kiss to the top of my head "I really am sorry Y/n. I don't want you to be upset over something I've done"

I shook my head "I'm not upset. I just don't want my boyfriend to be in the hospital wing for half the year"

"I'll try harder" He whispered.

"Just try harder on the fighting aspect. Otherwise your perfect"

I smiled at him and the one he gave back made my heart melt. I loved him.

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 2 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, reader has insecurities

❥ A/N: hello everyone!! Thank you for the feedback on this series!!

"I don't know if this is a good idea..."

"Don't think like that!" your friend says from the phone. "This is a one in a lifetime experience! Go out with him and let him fuck you stupid!"

"Stop," you plead, shifting through your closet again, sighing. "I don't know if I have anything nice enough to match the pearls."

"Just wear something sexy. He's not even gonna look at your neck."

"This is so stupid," you huff, grabbing two outfits and taking them out for your friend to see on the phone. "I'm stuck between these two."

She hums, tilting her head this way and that.

"I think the dark green one would look more elegant on you. It's a bodycon dress, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Good. Give him a look at all those curves."

"Stop it," you groan, putting the losing outfit back before heading towards your bathroom. "Give me a minute."

"You're good." You shut the bathroom door, hanging up the dress on your towel rack before undressing. You shimmy into the dress, pulling it down to expose your shoulders, just like it was shown online when you bought it. You huff, opening the door and moving back into the bedroom, standing in front of the camera.

"How's this?" Your friend whistles.

"Girl. You're gonna make him drool."

You smile shyly, picking up your phone and taking it with you to your humble vanity, turning on the lights around it.

"I don't know what to do for makeup."

"Give me a sec," your friend hums, clicking away at her phone screen. "Okay, you could do a brown eyeshadow, one that's just a couple shades darker than your skin, to deepen your eyes. Then do a winged liner. Do you have a red lipstick?"

"Yeah."

"Wear it. Red is sexy."

You sigh, pulling out your supplies and beginning your look. It was simple, yet classy, perfectly seductive. But why did you want to be seductive? You barely knew this guy—hell, you didn't even know his name—so why were you putting in this kind of effort?

Maybe you're just desperate.

You drown your negative thoughts in setting spray, looking in the mirror before gazing at the phone.

"How's this?" Your friend smiles.

"You look good! Were you gonna do your brows?"

"Nah," you start putting your things away, "I don't know him that well." Your friend laughs.

"That's fair. Take the lipstick with you so you can reapply after dinner."

"Yes ma'am."

You take out the small red gift box, removing the lid and then the pearls. You stare at it for a moment, before finding the clasp.

"How does this go on?"

"Lemme see—"

"Wait, I got it." You wrap the pearls around your neck, clasping it behind you. You touch them gingerly, worried that they'll snap off at any second.

"What perfume are you wearing?"

"The one he got me," you reply, grabbing the bottle. Your friend groans.

"Lucky. I wish my boyfriend got me perfume." She sighs. "Maybe I should break up with him."

"Don't be like that," you say as you spray the perfume generously around you. "You guys are practically married."

"He hasn't texted me in, like, three hours." You put the cap back on the perfume bottle.

"He's on a business trip."

"Which is why he should be texting me, since we can't talk face to face." You roll your eyes, smiling at her.

"Thank you for helping me." She smiles back at you.

"Of course boo-boo. Text me when the date is over. I want all the details." You giggle.

"Sure thing. I'll text you later."

"Okie, byeeeee!"

"Bye!"

You hang up the call, sitting in silence. You look back in the mirror, wondering what you were even doing. Why was this stranger even taking you on a date? Didn't he have better things to do?

You shake your head, glancing at your phone. Twenty minutes and he should be there to pick you up.

You sigh, already exhausted.

He arrives precisely at seven p.m., pulling in front of your apartment. You pull back the curtains to glance at him get out of his car. You sigh when you see that he's carrying things.

You open the door as he approaches. He's wearing a suit, black with a light gray shirt. He has a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a small baby blue box in the other.

"Hi," you say, hands clasped together.

"Hi," he replies, reaching the top step and handing out his gifts. "For you."

"I figured," you mumble, taking the flowers and the box. You hesitate, then hand the flowers back to him so you could open the box. You remove the lid, eyes going wide at the bracelet you saw. It had pearls with golden beads in between, diamonds on each bead, with a golden clasp.

"This is really unnecessary," you say, placing the lid on the bottom of the box.

"You don't like it?"

"It's beautiful," you reply, touching the bracelet. "But you really don't need to keep buying me things."

"I want to." He shifts on his feet. "I thought it would look good on you."

You hum quietly, taking the bracelet out of it's container.

"I don't know how to put this on."

"Here," he tucks the flowers under his arm, offering his hands. "Let me."

You pause but hand the bracelet to him, leaving out your arm. He unclasps it, wraps it around your wrist and clasps it together. His hands linger on your arm for a moment, eyes staring intensely before he pulls away, handing the bouquet back to you.

"Thank you," you mumble, taking the flowers. "I'm... gonna go put these in water."

"Sure."

You step inside, closing the door, whispering curses to yourself as you hurry to the kitchen. You find a spare vase, filling it with water and adding the flowers, placing them next to the last bouquet he got you. You glance at the brand name on the blue box before tossing it in the trash, going back outside.

"I'm ready." He nods, turning and walking down the steps. You follow him, heels clicking against the concrete. He opens the passenger door for you, standing to the side.

"Thank you," you mumble, slipping inside his sleek car. He shuts the door behind you, making his way to the driver's side as you look around the car. You don't know car brands, but this one seems expensive, luxurious. You wonder what his occupation is as he gets in the car, starting it and driving away.

The car is silent as he drives to your destination; not even the radio is on. You stir in your seat, pulling your phone from your purse and searching the jewelry brand he bought from. You swallow when you see the prices, scrolling through the 'bracelets' section to look for yours. You choke on your spit, coughing into your arm.

"You okay?" he asks. You heave in a breath, glancing at the price on your phone.

"Fifteen thousand dollars?!" you choke out, glancing at him. "You got me a fifteen thousand dollar bracelet?!"

"Yeah," he draws out. "Is that a problem?"

"That..." You stare at the bracelet on your wrist. "It's too much. I don't even know your name."

"Would you like to know my name?"

"I mean, yes, but... I mean, the only thing I see you as is 'guy'. You're just a guy."

He hums, making a turn.

"Why don't you call me 'Guy'?"

"What? 'Guy'? You want to be called 'Guy'?"

He shrugs, pulling in to a parking lot.

"Only you would call me that, so it's special. It'll be like a nickname."

You think about it, closing your mouth as he parks in front of the restaurant. You unbuckle, putting your hand on the door to open it, but he grabs your wrist, making you turn to look at him.

"Don't," he says, releasing you so he could unbuckle himself. "Let me."

You huff, slumping back in the seat as he gets out and walks to your door. He opens it, reaching out a hand for you to take. You sigh, taking his hand and letting him help you out of the vehicle. He closes the door, tossing his keys to the valet who fumbles with them.

"Don't scratch it," he says, still holding your hand and gently pulling you into the restaurant.

The place was dim, golden light swirling through the restaurant. He gives his last name to the hostess who grabs two menus, guiding you to your table. It's a fairly large table in the back of the restaurant, tucked away from everyone else.

He pulls back a chair for you, watching you as you gingerly sit down in it. He pushes you in before moving to his seat across from you. You take the menus in silence.

Your waiter comes to get your drink orders. He gets a water and a glass of whiskey with ice. You just get a water with lemon.

"You don't want anything to drink?" he asks before the waiter leaves. You smile awkwardly.

"I'm just not in the mood tonight." He hums, waving the waiter off, staring at you. You pretend you don't notice, rereading the limited menu choices so you don't have to make eye contact.

"What will you get to eat?" he asks, hands folded under his chin. You shrug.

"I don't know... I've never been here before." He watches you like a hawk, and you swear you can feel yourself sweating under his gaze.

The waiter returns with your drinks, asking if you're ready to give your food order.

"I'll have the ceasar salad to start," he points at the menu. "Then I want the filet with mashed potatoes and asparagus, and at the end I want the cheesecake." The waiter writes everything down turning to you.

"Oh! Um..." You glance over the menu again. "I'll also start with the salad. Then I'll have the, um... fettucine alfredo with broccoli. And then can I please have the crème brûlée?" The waiter nods, writing down your order before taking your menus and walking away. You sit in silence once again as he stares at you.

"So, um... Guy," you begin, noticing his lips curl. "What exactly do you do?"

"I'm a CEO," he says, brushing something off his shoulder.

"Oh? For where?"

"Just a tech company. Nothing special."

"Oh..." you reply. You grab your water, taking a sip before setting it back down, leaving a lipstick stain on the glass. He stares at it, rubbing his hand before looking back at you.

"You're a barista."

"Yes..."

"How long have you been one?"

"Oh, um, for a couple years now."

"Do you like it?"

"Most of the time." You pause when the waiter returns with your salads, setting them in front of you before leaving. "Some customers are really nice. Others are assholes. But I get along pretty well with most of them."

"That's good." You pick up your forks at the same time. "What can you do about the assholes?"

"Nothing, really," you say, taking a bite and chewing thoroughly. "I just try to be polite and do my job."

"Is there anything I can do for you?" You glance at him. He's still staring intensely, making you swallow.

"Uh... no, not really. You can't really ban them from coming." He hums, taking a bite.

"I'm sure I can talk to your manager, get them banned from your store." You lift your hand, waving it.

"No, no, it's fine. It's just part of the job." He huffs, taking big bites of his salad, eating twice as fast as you are.

"You shouldn't have to deal with that."

"Well, it's my job, so..."

"Do you want a better job?"

"Huh?" you ask, making a face. He's finished his salad, wiping his mouth with his napkin before setting it down in his lap.

"I could find a better job for you."

"What? No, no, I don't need a new job. I like where I am." He nods.

"Understood. If you ever change your mind though, I'm here to help."

"Right..."

You finish your salad as he watches you, trying to chew quickly so he doesn't stare at you for too long. As you finish your salad, your entrées arrive, empty plates exchanged for full ones.

"You look nice, by the way," he tells you as he picks up his fork and knife, cutting into his steak. "I should have told you earlier."

"Oh! Well, thank you," you reply, feeling warmth bloom in your cheeks.

"I feel lucky," he begins as he moves his piece of steak in sauce, "that you dressed like this for me."

You twirl your pasta around your fork, too shy to look at him. You eat in silence for a little bit, hearing him chew, knowing that he was still staring at you.

"What do you do besides work?" he asks after he swallows.

"Um, not much. I stay at home a lot, watch movies, do some crafts."

"What do you make?"

"Oh, well..." You take out your phone, pulling up photos of your crafts, handing it to him so he can see. "Stuff like this, mostly."

He takes your phone gently, staring down at the photo. He smiles softly, handing it back to you.

"It's nice. You're very talented."

"Ah, thank you." You store your phone away. "That's kind of you to say."

"I don't say things I don't mean."

You meet his gaze, blinking. He's very serious as he takes a bite of mashed potatoes.

"I... okay..."

Silence overcomes you again as you eat. He shovels food into his mouth, eating much faster than you, as if he's starving. You grab a piece of broccoli, putting it in your mouth.

"What do you do outside of work?" you ask, trying to keep the conversation going. He shrugs.

"I go to the gym a lot." You scoff.

"No shit. I can tell." He pauses, glancing at you.

"Do you not like it?" You shake your head.

"I don't mind. If you like to do it, then you should keep doing it." He taps his fork against his steak, twisting his mouth.

"Do you... like muscular men?" he asks, a hint of worry in his tone. You pause, looking up at him. You shrug.

"I don't really have a preference. I think muscles are nice, but if my partner didn't have muscles I wouldn't be upset about it."

"I see..."

Silence, again. Why was it so hard to talk about things? Was he naturally untalkative?

"Guy?" He glances at you. "Why did you ask me out on a date?" He swallows, setting down his fork.

"I wanted to take you on a date."

"But why?"

"Because I like you. I thought that was obvious." You curl into yourself a bit.

"Not really..." You pick at your food for a moment before setting your fork down. "I just don't see why you like me..."

"You don't see why?" You shrug and hear him sigh. "Well, to start, you're very beautiful. That's the first thing I noticed about you. You're also sweet, and kind. You treat customers very well. And you make good drinks."

"So you asked me on a date because you like how I make your coffee?"

"No," he says, almost offended as he picks up his fork. "I asked you on a date because I wanted to get to know you, all of you, not just who you are as a barista." You go back to eating, taking another bite.

"I'm worried you'll be disappointed with who I really am."

"I highly doubt that." He wipes his mouth with the napkin, pushing forward his cleaned plate. "I already adore you."

"Wha—"

"Are you finished, ma'am?" the waiter asks, suddenly appearing. You glance at him, taking one last bite before handing him your empty plate. He smiles, taking Guy's plate as well before another waiter places your desserts in front of you.

You quietly break into your crème brûlée, scooping the cream and bringing it to your mouth. You light up when it hits your tongue, moaning quietly.

"Oh, it's so good!"

"You like it?" he asks, grabbing a bite of fresh strawberries and cheesecake. You nod enthusiastically.

"It's so so good! Oh my gosh, that is absolutely delicious." You take another scoop, holding it up. "Would you like a bite?" He waves his hand.

"No, you enjoy it." You nod, taking another bite and moaning happily. He watches you devour your dessert with joy, smiling softly with each bite you took. You both finish your desserts, and the waiter brings the check. He doesn't let you see it: just takes out his credit card and puts it in the small black folder.

"Thank you," you say to him as the waiter takes the check away.

"Of course. I wasn't going to let you pay for anything."

The waiter returns, and Guy takes his card, signing the receipt, leaving a tip. He gets up first, holding his hand out for you. You take it, letting him lead you through the restaurant and out the building. He lets go of your hand, whispers to the valet before returning to you.

"Did you enjoy dinner?"

"Yes. It was lovely, thank you."

"Of course." He keeps his hands in his pockets, staring as the valet brings his car around. He opens the door for you, closing it once you're inside. Once he's in the driver's seat, he pulls away, heading back to your apartment.

The drive back is quiet. After he parks in front of your apartment, he gets out and opens your door. He helps you out, closing the door. The both of you walked to your front door.

"Thank you for dinner," you repeat, and he nods. You stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do now.

"Would you like to do this again some time?" You blink, clutching your purse.

"Ah, sure, if you'd like to."

"I'd be honored to take you out again."

Your face burns at that. You squirm slightly under his gaze.

"Well, um, goodnight," you say, holding your hand out to shake his. He takes your hand, but instead of shaking it, he leans down and kisses your knuckles. You're stock-still, shocked, confused as he pulls away, releasing your hand.

"Goodnight, Y/N." You shiver, pulling out your keys and unlocking your apartment quickly.

"Okaygoodnightbye!"

You bolt inside, slamming the door behind you and locking it. You waited, hearing his footsteps retreat, his car coming to life before speeding off. Only then could you calm down, sliding down to the floor, kicking off your heels.

"This is fucking insane," you hiss to yourself, holding up your wrist to gaze at the bracelet he bought you. You sigh, shaking it and hearing it clink and jingle, thinking.

You pull out your phone, bringing up your texts.

Y/N: Well, at least he wasn't an ax murderer.

[wordsofwhimsy]

【Ｏｐｐｏｓｉｔｅｓ　

Ａｔｔｒａｃｔ】 - Part Three

Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, slice of life

Word Count: 2,177

Chapter Synopsis: A conversation at lunch, and a car ride home~

a/n: this is probably gonna be the last part where y’all are in HS, unless you guys like it set there. i was thinking next part would timeskip into college. ALSO i can’t decide if i want to let Mark go full psycho in this or make it an au where he’s not so bad 😭 would love some in put from you guys 👀

Part Two

You floated through your next classes like a helium balloon on a breeze. Every time someone said "strong" or mentioned dodgeball, your brain instantly short-circuited back to the idea of Mark knocking out someone’s tooth with a single throw. The boy was walking around like a teenage tank with a smirk, and now all you could do was giggle to yourself and replay every syllable he’d said to you during gym.

By the time lunch rolled around, the buzz had dulled into a soft, persistent hum in your chest — the kind that made everything feel shiny and a little too real. You weren’t expecting anything else. One conversation was already the highlight of your month.

So when Mark dropped his tray onto your table and slid into the seat across from you, you almost died.

"You're eating air for lunch, or is that supposed to be food?" he asked casually, nodding toward the untouched tray in front of you.

You blinked. Looked at your tray. Looked at him.

"I—it’s food-adjacent," you said quickly, sitting up straighter like posture might make you look more competent. "I just got distracted. You know, thinking about how gym class might've been the end of me."

He huffed a quiet laugh, poking at his own mystery meat. "Pretty sure you did more damage to yourself than I’ve ever seen in dodgeball."

"You threw a ball so hard it knocked someone’s tooth out!" you exclaimed, your voice cracking mid-sentence like a vinyl record. “Meanwhile, I just tripped on my own excitement.”

"Yeah," he said, smirking. "That was kinda hilarious. You, not the tooth."

You flushed but smiled anyway. "I mean, I was excited to talk to you again. Childhood besties reunited after years of top-secret government isolation — it’s dramatic."

His smirk faded just slightly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. "So that part’s real? You said something about being in government custody yesterday."

You stiffened. Serious Mark had entered the chat.

You looked down at your tray, your fingers instinctively curling around the little dragon keychain dangling from your backpack zipper. He was glittery and red, with tiny felt wings and wide plastic eyes. He’d been with you for years.

“I—yeah,” you said softly. “That’s real. I wasn’t supposed to talk about it, but... I didn’t want to lie to you. No good friendship ever starts with lies, right?”

He didn’t say anything right away, just tilted his head like he was waiting for the rest.

So you took a breath. And then—pop. With a tiny shimmer of light, the dragon keychain blinked to life in your palm, stretching like a cat waking up from a nap.

"Meet Pesto," you said, your voice soft but proud. "He's not very threatening, but he's got a killer glitter breath."

Mark's eyes widened. "What the fuck—did you just bring that thing to life?"

You nodded, cheeks warming. "It’s like, my thing. I can animate small objects. Toys, charms, dolls, stuff like that. But it only works on harmless things. The GDA tested it a thousand ways and said it didn’t have any real combat application. So… they shelved me."

Pesto blinked up at Mark, then sneezed. A tiny puff of glitter poofed from his snout.

Mark stared for a moment, then laughed. Not a condescending laugh—more like a surprised, what the hell is even happening laugh.

“That’s fuckin’ crazy,” he said, shaking his head with an amused grunt. “That would be something you could do.”

You blinked, unsure whether to take that as a compliment or not. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leaned back in his seat, tray forgotten, arms crossing over his chest as a smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth. “I dunno. You’ve always been kinda… weird.”

You gasped, mock-offended. “Excuse me? I am an eccentric delight. There’s a difference.”

“Oh yeah?” he raised a brow. “Cuz I distinctly remember you bringing half your stuffed animals to school in a stroller once. You told everyone it was their ‘field trip.’”

Your face went nuclear. “They deserved an education!”

He laughed again, and this time it was warm — like sunshine cracking through the clouds of his usual too-cool exterior.

You bit your lip, still flushed. “I was seven, okay? That’s, like, legally protected innocence.”

“No shame,” he said, reaching over to gently poke Pesto, who let out a soft little purr. “You turned out kinda cool.”

You blinked at him. “Kinda?!”

Mark grinned. “Don’t let it go to your head, Stuffy.”

Your jaw dropped. “You remember my nickname?!”

“You screamed at me when I tried to give you a new one. What was I supposed to do, forget the trauma?”

You laughed, full and unfiltered, feeling something warm spread behind your ribs like hot chocolate in the cold. He remembered. He remembered you.

“So…” Mark leaned in a little, just enough to make your breath catch, “you gonna make that dragon do tricks or what?”

You gave him a sly smile. “Pesto is a dignified creature. He only performs for snacks.”

Mark reached into his backpack, pulled out a packet of gummy bears, and set it down in front of you like he was bartering with royalty.

Pesto perked up immediately.

“He’s easily bribed,” you said with a shrug. “We have that in common.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

His voice had gone a little lower when he said it — casual, but there was something in the way he was looking at you that made your stomach flip-flop like a fish on dry land.

You blinked, trying not to combust. “So, uh, any other hobbies besides terrifying bullies and delivering gym class concussions?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he said, reclining back in his chair with all the smugness of someone who definitely knew you were watching him and absolutely liked the attention.

You were about to fire back a witty retort (or at least a halfway decent one) when the lunch bell rang, jolting you just a bit. Students began filing out, trays clattering and chairs scraping.

Mark stood, grabbing his tray and casually tossing a gummy bear to Pesto, who caught it with an enthusiastic mlem.

“Later, Stuffy,” he said as he walked past.

You turned slowly, watching him go, then looked at Pesto.

“Wait, are we actually becoming friends again?” you whispered.

Pesto blinked at you. Glitter sneezed out of his nose.

Later That Day

You coasted through your last few classes with approximately three brain cells functioning — one dedicated to remembering to blink, another repeating Mark’s “Later, Stuffy” on an endless loop, and the third having a full-on meltdown every time you remembered the way he leaned in and called you cool.

Needless to say, no academic miracles were performed that afternoon.

You shuffled out to the parking lot a few minutes after the final bell rang, your backpack slipping off one shoulder, dragging your feet to your junker car — the same sad, metallic rectangle of disappointment the GDA had generously gifted you when you were released from their "custody."

You threw your bag onto the passenger seat, climbed in, and turned the key in the ignition.

Nothing.

You tried again. Still nothing — just a pitiful cough, a flicker of the dash lights, and then silence.

You sat there for a second, staring at the wheel. “Okay, rude.”

You slumped forward, forehead hitting the steering wheel. “Come on, you overpriced tin can…” You turned the key one last time with a final, desperate hope.

RrrrRrrrRrrRrrrrr—cough—click.

You sighed, and just as you were pulling out your phone to check the bus schedule a sudden knock on your window made you scream.

You looked up and saw Mark standing there, backpack slung over one shoulder, eyebrow quirked like he’d caught you doing something embarrassing.

Which, to be fair… he had.

You rolled the window down slowly, pretending you hadn’t just hollered like a horror movie extra.

“Hey,” you greeted casually, ignoring the fact that your voice cracked halfway through. “You’re still here?”

He shrugged. “Detention. Again. You good?”

You sighed. “Yeah. I mean, no. I think my car’s kicked the bucket.”

Mark glanced at the hood, then back at you. “Won’t start?”

“Not unless I sing it a lullaby and promise it a better life,” you muttered. Mark stared at you, then blinked like he wasn’t quite sure he heard you right.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ weird,” he said finally, shaking his head with a slight smirk quirking at his lips.

Normally, you would’ve had a comeback ready. Something clever, maybe a little sparkly, definitely ridiculous. But right now? With your car refusing to cooperate, your ride home disappearing with the daylight, and your one big chance at a normal day crumbling in real time?

You just sighed, slumping back in your seat.

“…Yeah,” you said quietly, without your usual shine. “I know.”

Mark glanced at you, and something shifted in his expression — his smirk fading into something softer. He scratched the back of his neck, eyes turning up to the sky.

“C’mon. I’ll give you a ride.”

You blinked, not quite processing. “Wait—really?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, I’m just offering to stand here while you suffer. Yes, really.”

You lit up like a string of fairy lights, the earlier gloom lifting just a little. “Oh my god, yes. Yes please. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t say that until we actually get there in one piece.”

You blinked, tilting your head. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You reached for the door handle to get out—fully expecting to follow him to wherever his car was parked—but before you could push it open, Mark leaned in and gently—but firmly—closed it again.

You froze.

“…Uh. What’re you doing?”

He just gave you that same unreadable grin, one brow raised like he was having way too much fun with this.

“Sit tight.”

You stared. “Mark. What do you mean, ‘sit tight’? Why are you looking at me like that? What’s going on? Am I being kidnapped—?”

But he was already backing away, rolling his sleeves up like this was just another Tuesday.

You pressed both hands to the window as he crouched slightly in front of the car, stretching his arms and cracking his neck like he was getting ready to do something outrageous.

Which—spoiler alert—he was.

“MARK?” you shouted through the glass. “WHAT ARE YOU—WAIT—IS THIS—OH MY GOD—”

Then—with zero hesitation—he gripped the front of your car and lifted it. Off. The. Ground.

You screamed.

Like, genuinely screamed. Hands flailed, heart raced, every single organ in your body evacuated out of pure panic.

“MARK! MARK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING—OH MY GOD—”

And then—lift off.

The tires left the pavement and your car, your sad little tin can of a car, was suddenly soaring through the sky, held aloft in Mark’s arms like it was nothing.

You scrambled across the seat, hands splayed on the window, voice pitchy and horrified. “I’M NOT WEARING A SEATBELT—THIS ISN’T A ROLLER COASTER—THIS IS A TOYOTA—”

Mark’s voice rang out from outside the windshield, crystal clear and annoyingly calm. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

“YOU’RE HOLDING A WHOLE CAR!”

“Yeah, and you’re not dead. So… win-win?”

Wind rushed around you, whipping your hair into chaos as your apartment complex came into view below. You were screaming and laughing and gasping all at once — a ridiculous, adrenaline-fueled swirl of holy crap this is real.

And you kinda loved it.

Was this what flying felt like? Your heart pounding, the sky wide open, and Mark freaking Grayson carrying you through it like some twisted superhero Uber?

It was absurd. It was exhilarating. It was—

“—WE’RE GONNA GET ARRESTED!” you shouted out the window.

“Nah,” Mark called back. “I’m good at not getting caught.”

“THAT IS NOT REASSURING!”

A moment later, your car touched down with a soft bump outside your apartment building. Not even a scratch.

You sat there in stunned silence for three full seconds, then exploded out of the passenger side like a champagne cork, stumbling over your own feet as you pointed at him.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” you gasped, looking at Mark like he’d just personally rewritten gravity. “HOW—HOW DID YOU EVEN—THAT WAS A WHOLE CAR!”

He flexed casually. “Pretty strong.”

You stared at him, open-mouthed. “Y-You could’ve died!”

Then he leaned against the hood and said it—smooth and cheeky, like he’d been waiting for the perfect dramatic moment.

“Nah, I’m Invincible.”

You stared another beat. Then you laughed—loud, shocked, and a little hysterical.

“That is the dumbest and coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He just grinned, arms crossed.

“Alright, see ya tomorrow, Stuffy.”

You stared after him as he took off into the air again, leaving nothing behind but the faint whoosh of wind and a lingering smirk on your face.

Pesto peeked out of your bag, blinking at you with wide beady eyes.

You sighed. “Did that really just happen?”

Pesto sneezed. Glitter.

———————

Part Four!

———————

Taglist! @maddyb-rapps | @sweet-3-whispers | @moradogreen | @rayaaa4444 | @luvvcharxo | @byteme05

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — fourteen: because you tolerated me

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

author’s note: wrote this at 11pm and just finished at 12:25am 😭 my roommate told me to head to bed but i haaaaad to update for you guys so!!! enjoy the lore, hopefully it’s not too confusing ??

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Hanni isn’t so sure what to do. On one hand, she thinks she hates your guts, but on the other, she knows that she really doesn’t.

In fact, Pham Hanni had lived across from you at the ripe age of three, your moms having shared the same apartment complex. Hanni hated everything about that place, it was poorly managed, and quite frankly, cheap.

“Nini!” Little you yelled, your chubby baby hands reaching out for the girl in front of you. “Nini!”

You never knew her actual name because you were so young, referring to her only as Nini.

Hanni loved playing with you, she would beg her mom to bring over some spoiled bread they had in the pantry to pretend to play tea party and eat.

By the time Hanni turned six, her father took custody of her. Her father worked under a man named Park Hyunwook, and that was where she met Park Seojun.

He was a fairly skinny boy, but he made himself look charming nonetheless. Seojun took Hanni under his wing whenever her dad was busy in his father’s company, and soon enough, the two of them became best friends.

They became close to the point where that he made sure his father secured a spot in Decelis for Hanni.

“I’ll quit football if you don’t do it,” he threatened, which earned him a painful slam into the door by his own father.

It worked, though.

Hanni met Jungwon in her sophomore year of high school. He was a cute, rather calm composed boy who reminded her so much of a cat. She swore she fell inlove in an instant.

They talked for quite a while, and eventually, Jungwon did ask Hanni to be his girlfriend.

He stumbled upon Seojun and her hugging after class, and even though Hanni swore to her heart that it was platonic, the younger boy wasn’t having any of it.

So she spilled it out. She told him why they were hugging—of course she did—she loved Jungwon, how could she let her relationship just go down the drain like that?

“My dad’s threatening to pull me out of Decelis if I don’t tell my mom to stop contacting him.” She explained, and Jungwon didn’t understand what Seojun had to do with it.

Turns out, Seojun’s father was the one paying the tuition. If she was pulled out of Decelis, she would never see any of her friends ever again.

“Well, I don’t care if you’re rich or not Han, I love you.”

Despite Yang Jungwon promising his love to her, all Seojun could think about was how scandalous it could be if word ever got out that his father was paying for Hanni’s spot when millions of scholarship kids were still waiting.

So he killed him. Pushed him off a cliff. Seojun wasn’t a monster—maybe he was an awful person—but that didn’t mean he hated Jungwon. He just couldn’t risk it. His reputation was far way more important than some guy his friend was dating.

Besides, Hanni was a pretty girl. She’d find loads of boyfriends by the time Jungwon was gone.

“Are you listening to me? Hello?”

Heeseung waves a hand in front of your face, a playful smile comes to his face when he sees you snap out of your daze.

“Sorry,” you say. “I was just…”

He looked over at your direction, sighing when he sees Sunghoon and Hanni all close to each other. “Looking at the newly inlove couple? Yeah, I know.”

“Inlove is a reach.”

Heeseung shrugs. “I just want class to end so I can take you out for dinner.”

You practically choke at his confident tone. “We made up literally a few days ago.”

“So? I mean it when I say you’re important to me, Y/N.”

Any girl in your spot would’ve dropped dead at Lee Heeseung practically melting in a puddle in your presence.

“You should smile more,” Sunghoon says from the table across yours, his hands coming under Hanni’s chin to smush her two cheeks together.

She slaps his arm away, annoyed. “You’re lucky Seojun didn’t kill you.”

Sunghoon grows tense at that, his eyebrows furrowed. “What did you say to me?”

“Nothing.”

Danielle grows uncomfortable in her seat, her eyes dashing around the room. “How’s home life Hanni?”

Hanni shrugs, stabbing her fork into the mushy mashed potatoes the school had served. “Nothing better than before.”

She wanted to cry so badly in her seat. But if anyone had caught onto the tears that were forming at the edge of her eyes, she would lose the reputation she so desperately worked hard to maintain.

“Excuse me.” She hurriedly rushed off. Sunghoon stands up after her, but Danielle places a hand in front of him.

“Just let her be Hoon.”

And who was Sunghoon to argue with Danielle?

She practically grows limp as she reaches the end of the empty corridor, far away from the cafeteria. Her mascara is probably smudged like crazy, and she doesn’t even want to think about how insane she might look to a passerby.

“Are you okay?” You don’t register the crying girl as Hanni at first. You had just bid goodbye to Heeseung and dropped him off at his business management class, so you were in a rush to get to your class before your teacher gave you detention.

“Just leave me alone.”

Your eyes widened. “Hanni?”

Hanni never felt more embarrassed in her entire life. She didn’t even know why she was crying so hard.

Sunghoon, despite always being around her, was never truly there for her.

Sure, he was there when she broke down in tears complaining about her dad, but he only used that as collateral against her when Seojun had threatened him after he too found out about how Seojun’s dad had been paying for Hanni’s tuition.

Hanni had opened up to him more than she knows she should’ve. She told him how much she hated her dad, how everytime she went home from Decelis, she couldn’t wait to go back because she couldn’t stand an day in that house, let alone an hour.

And what did Sunghoon do with that information? He used it against her.

Sunghoon wasn’t like Yang Jungwon. Seojun couldn’t just kill him off, he was an important asset to the Park Administration for the local politics, the same ones that Seojun’s father was running for.

Killing Sunghoon was too much of a big risk for everybody involved.

Sunghoon knew he had that power over Seojun. He knew Park Seojun couldn’t cry to his daddy about him and he knew that he could destroy Hanni’s whole life with a snap of his fingers.

But he didn’t. It wasn’t fun that way. Plus, like Seojun said, Hanni was a pretty girl. Much prettier than other girls at Decelis. Sunghoon actually liked her.

Heeseung just had to get in his way. The boy knew Hanni first, but Sunghoon managed to squeeze his way to the top within months of joining the friend group. He knew Lee Heeseung had too much of a weak stomach to keep secrets like this. Lee Heeseung was a coward, and would always be in Sunghoon’s eyes.

“Drop him.”

“What?”

“Are you deaf? I said drop him.”

Hanni didn’t want drop Heeseung. She just wanted to feel loved. Heeseung made her feel loved. Sure, she didn’t like him enough to actually pursue him—but she loved the attention and adoration he had for her despite seeing through all her faults. Lee Heeseung cared for her, she just didn’t have the energy to care for him back.

So she let herself reject Heeseung’s confession on the night of Seojun’s gala, she let Sunghoon humiliate him in front of their whole friend group, she agreed to become Sunghoon’s girlfriend.

Why? Because Pham Hanni’s reputation was too big for her to let a man destroy it.

“You can tell me what’s wrong, you know, I won’t judge.”

“God, I hate you.” She whispers, hands harshly rubbing away the tears.

“Why Hanni? What did I ever do to you?”

“Because you tolerated me.” She cries even more. “Because you never once called me out on my behavior, because despite me being a total bitch, you were always nice to me.”

You had no idea what to say, so you didn’t say anything. You just rubbed Hanni’s back, wondering why the hell you were actually feeling bad for the girl who made your life a living hell for weeks.

[d33pd3sire-blog]

Fill me up, buttercup.

NSFW TW: strap, detailed descriptions of cockwarming, implied sex.

How do y'all write smut this shit is harddd (that's what she said hehehe)

Hope y'all enjoy :)

The sound of clacking bottles and huffing can be heard from the hallway as you're getting into the dress you had picked out. You smile, knowing how cute Emily gets when she huffs.

'You good?' you yell from the bedroom. There's no response but Emily appears in the doorway looking sheepish.

'Wanna do my makeup for me? I can't seem to do it right.' she admits. Your eyes light up at the request, knowing how much fun this could be.

'Of course, let me just grab something first. Sit over there I'll be back in a second.' Emily does as she's told and grabs the chair from your desk, sitting down and waiting for you. A few seconds later you come back holding her purple strap.

'Put this on for me?' You tried to be confident in your choice to ask but was still worried as to what her reaction might be. Emily smiles, interested, but looks down at her watch.

'Baby we have to leave in 30 minutes we don't have time for that.' You pout slightly, knowing shes right.

'I know we don't, but we don't have to have sex. I just want you to fill me up, and who knows! Could be a nice intimate experience for the both of us.' You give Emily a pleading look, walking closer to her. Emily bites her lip, looking at her watch one more time before getting up and taking the harness from you and putting it on.

'C'mere' Emily said, placing the harness over her legs and pulling it the straps tight. She pats her lap, waiting for you. The way she looked at you had you grasping at your underwear, before getting into position.

You grab Emilys face and lift it so you're both looking into each others' eyes. The lust that paints both of you is palpable, neither of you quite understanding how the other is capable of making them feel this way. A few seconds pass before you remove your hands and lift up the skirt of your dress, lowering yourself onto her cock.

A small moan slips from your mouth, your head falling back slightly as you reach the hilt. 'Shit.' You say. Emily filling you up sends electricity up your spine, her arms wrapping around your waist. Once you're settled, you take a deep breath and take the eyeliner from your desk behind her.

'Are you ready?' you say biting your lip. Emily nods before adjusting herself. The slight movement rubbing her cock slightly inside of you.

You quickly grab Emilys neck and gasp 'Stop. Moving.' Emily snickers, trying not to move which fails slightly. Your head falls into her shoulder as you whimper slightly.

'Okay okay, I'll stop. You gotta finish my makeup before we leave because im not going to Rossi's with one wing okay?' She smiles at you and you take a deep breath.

'Okay stay still.' Each second that passes, makes you more and more desperate to thrust your hips. Emily catches on. Before you could get any gratification, Emilys hands land on your hips and holds you in place.

You whine in protest. 'Hey you wanted this remember?' Emily grins at you. You huff, getting back to the task at hand.

A few minutes go by, you desperate to finish her makeup. Emily loved the way you would gasp and whimper every time she would move or jolt.

'There, all done.' You sigh, moving your legs to lift yourself off of her. 'Wait.' Emily stopped you, glancing at her watch. The face she pulled gave her away.

'Do we have time?' you ask. Secretly praying that you were fast enough. Emily grabbed your thighs and lifted you up, standing and walking towards the bed. Both of you giggling and chuckling at each other like hyenas.

'I think we could squeeze this in.' She drops you onto the bed. Safe to say you guys were late that night, but neither of you cared.

[revelboo]

Just dropping by to compliment your writing. Seriously, at this point your posts have basically adopted me. I LOVE everything you write! (Especially because you It made me obsessed with transformers again.) .... anyway, kisses from a Brazilian 😈😘😔💗👍👍

Aww! Thank you so much!

I felt bad and went ahead to type up the second half. The tags you guys add when you reblogged the last bit were making me feel a bit guilty.

Everything is Alright Pt 32

Starscream x Reader-guardian

• Hidden among the clouds, he circles. Can’t make himself leave you there alone, tethered to his own worries. To you. Still watching over you, because you’re so small down there standing right where he left you. Like you’re waiting on him to come back for you. Finally, you begin to walk. But you keep looking up, looking for him and it hurts more than he’d thought it would. Breaks him wide open as he wonders what you’re thinking. That he doesn’t want you anymore? That you’re not needed? He knows that feeling all too well. Hates it.

• You have no idea how far it is to town walking, but you’re already soaking wet and cold. Moving at least might keep you warm since you’re still in that stupid, thin dress. He’s not coming back. You weren’t sure what was going to become of you with him, but just being let go? Maybe to him it’s been like rehabilitating a wild animal and he’d finally decided you could be released back into the wild. Maybe he just really had gotten bored with you. Those maybes are driving you crazy. Because you’re hurt that he just threw you away.

• Because you cared about him. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you shudder as lightning crackles across the sky, the wind whipping your soaking hair across your cheek in little, stinging lashes. When exactly had it stopped being a game you were playing to survive? Agreeing with him, pretending interest in his day at first, but when had you genuinely started to care? The same time you’d started smiling when he returned from his duties, because you were really happy to see him and being greeted made him happy. Made his wings lift up higher at being acknowledged. Making him happy had made you happy.

• There’s a truck approaching on the road below as he rolls through the clouds, condensation slicking him. Too high above to hear what’s said when that truck slows beside you. When you turn. Tension winding him tight when you don’t keep walking, but pull open the door and get in. Someone you know? Someone looking for you? To take you home? A friend or something else to you? It doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t care, but he does.

• Shivering, you reach to angle the vents on the passenger side more directly on you as the driver cranks the heat. He’s older than you, old enough to be your dad and he’s frowning at you. Not buying that you’re okay. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. It’s been a month,” he says, tone clearly saying that he knows you haven’t just been wandering through the woods that long. That lie isn’t going to work. Apparently you’re famous in town, your face on missing persons flyers and they’d even swept the woods and had divers checking the small lake for your body.

• “I’m okay.” You’re not, but you just want to go home. Not to the police station or the hospital. Home. Your empty home. That fact has never bothered you before, but now it does. There’s no one waiting there, no one to talk to. He’s frowning at you, but he agrees to drive you home after making a call to the police, making you let them know you’re alive and found. Making you agree to go in tomorrow to explain what happened. Where you were. You don’t even have the energy to think up a lie right then.

• The guy even walks you up the drive and watches as you root around in the dirt of a very dead hanging basket of what had been impatiens a month ago to find the spare key and let yourself in. Only then does he relent and leave. You never think to ask his name, too numb and oddly empty. Around you the house is achingly silent.

• The intruder leaves and he still circles. No other vehicles. Does that mean you’re alone? No. How could you be? He transforms and lands a safe distance away, keeping low as the lights come on in the house, watching your shadow pass the windows as a dark smudge. And eventually the lights go back out. No one coming for you, because there is no one. His spark aches. He doesn’t mean to stay all night, but he can’t leave you there alone. Unwanted.

• Even if you believe he’s abandoned you, he can watch over you. Knows it’s not safe for you, but can’t make himself go. If he keeps returning here it’ll be noticed and questioned. You’ll still be in danger because of him. He knows this. And he still can’t force himself to leave you, because he is selfish. You don’t need him. But he does need you.

• Wrapping your robe around yourself as you head into the kitchen to get some coffee going, you stop short as the house creaks on its foundation. Eyes lifting to see something blocking the window. Familiar colors. Chest tight, you head outside and stare up at Starscream. He’s leaning against the house, wings drooping and optics shuttered in recharge. Like he’d spent all night outside watching over you. “You big idiot,” you sigh affectionately, your eyes burning as you reach out to touch the back of his huge hand. He hadn’t left you.

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[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch4

"For good service and cute waitresses”

pairing: pre military!jungkook x secret fuckbuddy!oc

contents: profanity, smut, fluff, humour, celeb au, angsty chapter guys </3, jungkook hurts oc unintentionally! Nari is mean (in a good way, we love nari here.) oc overthinks! mentions of ptd jungkook

smut warnings: f!masturbation, oc has dirty thoughts about jungkook, semi detailed description of masturbation, vibrator!

wc: idk yall but its lengthy

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @dreamersparacosm (cmnt to be added!)

a/n: updating this story hopefully every 2 days now :) this chap was pretty hard and i pretty much just winged it, how do we feel so far guys?! is there anything specifically anyone wants to see (like interactions between oc + jk?) or anything at all! please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading <3 mwah

masterlist < prev | next >

The screen of your phone glares back at you, Jungkook’s unread message still sitting at the bottom of your screen.

So am I getting a response, or did you decide flirting with me was a one-time thing?

A few day’s ago, this would’ve sent you into full panic mode. Or even having his number in your phone?! Even yesterday you might’ve overthought it for an hour before even considering replying. Making Nari type out your messages, but today, you’re different.

Or at least, you pretend you are.

The coffee shop hums around you, filled with the gentle murmur of conversation, the soft clinking of cups, the steady whir of the espresso machine. Your laptop sits open, your untouched document staring back at you, the blinking cursor mocking your lack of productivity.

Your errands are halfway done—grocery shopping still pending, laundry detergent still forgotten, but at least you’ve made it out of the house. That’s a win, right?

You take a sip of your drink, only to realize it’s already gone cold. Great.

With a sigh, you stretch your legs under the table, cracking your neck before finally giving in to temptation. Your fingers hover over the keyboard for only a second before you type back.

[ iMessage ]

Y/N: Maybe I just like to keep you waiting.

A response comes almost instantly.

Unknown number: That’s a dangerous game to play with me.

A small smirk tugs at your lips. So he wants to play?

Y/N: And what happens if i make you wait?

Unknown number: You’ll find out soon enough.

Heat curls at the base of your spine, unexpected but not unwelcome. You should stop texting him—you still have things to do, a life to return to—but instead, you let the conversation go on a little longer. A few more back-and-forths, a few more teasing remarks, until finally, your phone vibrates with a different notification.

Nari (5:57 PM) Incoming Call…

You sigh, shaking yourself out of your Jungkook-induced haze before swiping to answer.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Nari’s voice is playful, but there’s a pout underneath it. “You’re not coming over tonight, are you?”

“Rain check?” you say, already wincing. “I have, like, a million things to do.”

Nari groans dramatically. “I knew it. You always bail when I need you most.”

“You literally saw me yesterday.”

“And?! You left without saying goodbye!”

You laugh, adjusting in your seat as you glance around the café. “I swear I’ll come over sometime this week. We’ll do face masks and eat too much takeout and—”

“And you’ll tell me all about Mr. Famous?”

Your mouth opens, then shuts.

Nari gasps. “OH. MY. GOD. YOU HAVE AN UPDATE, DON’T YOU?!”

“Shh!” you hiss, glancing around. “No, I don’t.”

“Liar! If you didn’t, you would’ve just said ‘no’ instead of ‘no I don’t’ like a liar!”

You don’t want to indulge in a gossip session with Nari as of right now. It sounds fun, but you’re in a quiet cafe, and you know you and her can get carried away.

You groan. “I really have to go, Nari.”

“You dont, bitch.”

“I love you too,” you say, shaking your head fondly. “I’ll update you next time I see you, okay?”

Nari sighs dramatically. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m at work all night, so I hope you’re having a better time than me.”

You glance at your laptop screen. The blank document stares back.

“Trust me,” you mumble. “I’m not.”

After saying your goodbyes, you hang up, slipping your phone back into your bag before forcing yourself to focus.

You wrap up your errands—grabbing the groceries you’ve been putting off, nearly forgetting the laundry detergent again, and finally heading home when your arms can’t carry any more.

By the time you step inside, your apartment feels like a time capsule of procrastination.

The pile of clothes on the chair? Unmoved. The dishes? Stacked in the sink. A fine layer of dust coats your shelves, proof that you swore you’d wipe them down two weeks ago. With a heavy sigh, you set your bags down and tie your hair up.

Time to finally get your life together.

You start with the dishes, rolling up your sleeves as you scrub at the dried coffee rings and leftover crumbs, stacking each plate neatly to dry. Then, you tackle the laundry, sorting through the mess and tossing everything into the washer with way more detergent than necessary because screw it, it smells nice.

One thing after another, you move through your space, wiping down surfaces, lighting a candle just because, finally making your home feel liveable again.

When everything is clean, you take a long shower, the hot water easing the tension in your muscles. You throw on something comfortable—an oversized hoodie, some loose shorts—before settling onto your couch with a deep sigh, satisfied.

But—

Your mind wanders.

Your phone is right there.

Without thinking, you open TikTok. Just a little scrolling, just to unwind—nothing serious. But then you type his name into the search bar. Just to see.

The first thing that pops up is exactly what you expected: thirst edits, fancams, interview clips. You click on one at random, some fast-cut montage of Jungkook on stage, his jaw tight, his eyes sharp, every movement calculated to kill.

You get it now.

As if you didn’t get it the first time he looked at you with those big fat boba eyes.

The way people talk about him. The way they react. The comment sections filled with all-caps screaming, with people losing their minds over every little thing he does.

And then you see the other side of him.

Clips of him laughing so hard he folds over. Videos of him playing with his dog, teasing his bandmates, singing softly into his phone, eyes half-lidded and gentle.

Your chest feels tight.

There’s so much of him online. So many sides, so many versions.

And yet, you can’t help but feel like none of it is the full picture.

Then, A paparazzi photo.

Jungkook in a dimly lit restaurant. Across from him, a blonde woman, her arms decorated with tattoos. A dating scandal. Seemingly one that never got confirmed.

Something sharp twists in your stomach.

Jealousy?

No. That would be insane. You don’t even know him.

And yet—

Your fingers tighten around your phone.

What if you’re just another one of them?

What if you’re just another rumor? Another name people whisper about in comment sections, another person tied to him in a way that’ll never be real?

The thought lingers, sinking deep.

But then, with a deep breath, you shake your head.

Get over yourself.

You scroll past it.

And then—

You find it.

A concert clip.

Permission to Dance in LA.

Your breath stills.

The video starts, and there he is.

Jungkook.

His cropped black shirt barely covers him, leaving the sharp ridges of his stomach bare, glistening under the stage lights. Silver body chains drape over his chest and abs, catching the glow as he moves. His dark hair clings to his forehead, damp with sweat, sticking just enough to make it look good.

And then—

The screen cuts to a slow motion clip.

Jungkook, walking forward.

Shirtless.

Flashes of cameras illuminate his body, highlighting every detail—his stomach, his collarbones, the slightest angry expression on his face. His lips part, his throat bobs with a swallow, his skin slick under the lights, gleaming in the way that only makes him look better.

Your breath catches.

Something hot coils low in your stomach.

And just like that, it happens.

The shift. The realization.

That feeling. Your mind begins to wander places where you know it shouldnt.

You sit in the dimly lit living room, the only sound being the soft hum of your phone as you watch the video of Jungkook on the screen. His chiseled features and captivating smile have you entranced, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.You feel a surge of arousal at the sound of his words, and your mind begins to wander, imagining what it would be like to be with him.

You start to fantasize about being with Jungkook in secret, hiding your relationship from the prying eyes of the media and the public. You imagine being at work, sneaking away to the bathroom to meet him in private. You picture him pushing you against the stall, his hands grasping your hips as he whispers in your ear, "Shh, baby, we don’t wanna get caught hm? That would be a mess…" You feel a thrill at the thought of being with him in secret, the danger and excitement of being discovered.

Your hands seem to move of their own accord, slipping under the waistband of your shorts and into your underwear. Your fingers graze your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. You start to touch your wet folds, gently at first, but growing bolder as the pleasure builds. "Ah," you whisper to yourself, You imagine his cock pushing into you, his hands covering your mouth to keep you quiet as you moan in pleasure.

As you continue to touch yourself, you start to feel a sense of guilt creeping in. What the fuck am I doing?you think to yourself, This is so wrong.

But the pleasure is too much to ignore, and you find yourself pushing aside the guilt, focusing on the sensations and the image of Jungkook on the screen. Your breathing gets heavier, and your heart starts to pound in your chest. You're getting closer and closer to the edge, and you can't help but let out a series of soft gasps as you continue to touch yourself.

You imagine Jungkook's hands on your skin, his fingers tracing your curves as he whispers in your ear, "You're so beautiful, Wanna fuck you all night." You picture him lifting your leg up, his cock pushing into you as he fucks you against the stall. You hear the sound of his voice, "Don't you dare make a fucking sound." You feel a surge of pleasure at the thought of being with him in secret, the excitement and danger of being discovered.

Despite the guilt, your body continues to respond to the pleasure. You decide to take it to the next level, reaching for the vibrator that's hidden in your drawer. You turn it on, and the buzzing sound fills the room as you press it against your skin. The sensation is almost overwhelming, and you feel yourself getting even closer to the edge. "Oh, god," you whisper to yourself, "Fuckk-." The vibrator hums against your clit, and you feel a surge of pleasure as your body starts to respond. You're getting wetter and wetter, and you can feel your juices starting to drip down your thighs.

As you watch Jungkook on the screen, his eyes seeming to lock onto yours, you feel a surge of pleasure. "Shit," you say to yourself, The guilt is still there, but it's no longer the dominant emotion. The sensation of the vibrator and the image of Jungkook combine to create an intense, all-consuming feeling.

You're torn between the desire to indulge in this fantasy and the need to suppress it.

You imagine Jungkook's hands on your skin, his fingers tracing your curves as he whispers in your ear, "You're mine," You picture him fucking you hard, his cock pulsing inside of you as he claims you as his own. You hear the sound of his voice, imagining what he’d sound like when he comes.

You feel a much stronger surge of pleasure at the thought of being his, of being owned by him. Your body starts to tense up, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your muscles contract, and you feel a surge of pleasure as you start to come. "Ah, Jungkook," you whisper to yourself, "I'm coming." Your body shudders, and you feel a wave of pleasure wash over you. Your juices flow freely, dripping down your thighs as you continue to fuck yourself with the vibrator. You're lost in the sensation, and you can't help but let out a series of loud gasps as you ride out the wave of pleasure.

As you finally start to come down from the high, you're left feeling breathless and spent. Your body is covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and your juices are still dripping down your thighs. You look down at yourself, and you're met with the sight of your own wetness, glistening in the dim light of the room. You feel a sense of satisfaction, mixed with a hint of guilt. But as you look back at the screen, you see Jungkook's face, and you can't help but feel a sense of pleasure and satisfaction. You may have felt guilty, but in the end, pleasure won out.

——

The morning hits you like a truck.

Your body feels sluggish, weighed down by something heavier than sleep, and for a second, you don’t even register the fact that you’re awake. But then—your brain catches up. The fog clears just enough to remind you.

Last night.

Your entire body tenses. A slow, mortified groan rips out of your throat as you roll onto your stomach, shoving your face into the pillow. You did that. You actually-

Your phone buzzes loudly against the nightstand.

You blindly reach for it, barely prying your eyes open, when-

8:47 AM

Your heart drops.

“Shit—shit, shit, shit—”

You fling yourself out of bed in a panic, scrambling toward the bathroom with one hand already dialing Nari’s number. You’re brushing your teeth with one hand, violently shoving a hoodie over your head with the other, when she finally picks up.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she hums, far too smug.

“Nari, I’m so fucking late for work—” you garble through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Yeah, no shit, considering it’s almost nine—”

“Oh my god, I slept through my alarm, I’m gonna get fired—”

“You do know I’m not coming in today, right?”

The words don’t even process at first. You’re too busy throwing your phone onto speaker, shoving your legs into jeans as you spit into the sink. “What?”

“I told you yesterday. I switched shifts with Sumni.”

You freeze mid-step. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I literally did, babe.”

You blink at yourself in the mirror, panic momentarily replaced by realization. Then—

“…Fuck you.”

Nari cackles. “No, fuck you. I knew you’d forget.”

“You let me suffer!”

“I let you be a dumbass.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” she corrects, completely unfazed by your rage. “You’re just Nari-deprived.”

You exhale through your nose, fighting the urge to slam your head into the mirror. Work without Nari is going to be the worst, like it always is.

“You’re an asshole,” you grumble, grabbing your bag. “I hope your day sucks without me.”

“I hope yours is miserable without me,” she shoots back, voice laced with fake venom. “I bet you’ll be crying in the storage closet by noon.”

“I bet you’ll be crying in the bathroom by seven.”

“I bet you’ll call me on your lunch break to sob about how much you miss me—”

“You wish—”

You’re locking your door behind you when she suddenly pauses.

“…Wait,” she murmurs, her tone shifting. “You never answered my text last night.”

Your stomach clenches.

“I really gotta go—”

“NO WAIT— YOU—”

You hang up.

Your phone starts buzzing immediately after, but you shove it into your pocket, focusing instead on getting to work before your manager decides you’re more trouble than you’re worth.

——

You make it twenty-four minutes late, and the only saving grace is that your manager doesn’t care enough to scold you.

Still, work is miserable. The diner is slow, the regular breakfast rush long gone, and without Nari to keep you entertained, time crawls. You’re halfway through refilling the sugar dispensers when the bell above the door chimes.

You glance up, plastering on your best customer-service smile—

Only to feel it immediately slip.

Because Jeon Jungkook is standing in the entrance.

Alone again, and way too fucking early.

Your heart stutters, but you force yourself to act normal. “Why are you here so early?”

Jungkook smirks, stepping closer. “I’m just here to get coffee.”

You scoff. “You choose a diner to get coffee? Seriously?”

“Hey, don’t disrespect my choices,” he teases. “Some of us enjoy a little diner experience, with cute waitresses on the side” He winks.

“You know we don’t even have good coffee, right?”

Jungkook hums. “Then why are you serving it?”

“You asked for it.”

You roll your eyes and grab a mug. But as you turn to pour the coffee, your gaze flickers toward him—and you really look at him.

His jaw is sharp, cutting clean angles in the soft glow of the diner’s lights. His lips are thin, but full and plump in a way, slightly parted as he exhales. His dark hair is a little messy, like he ran his hands through it too many times. But it’s his eyes that hold you in place—deep brown, warm and dark, filled with something unreadable.

You don’t realize you’re staring until—

Jungkook smirks.

Your stomach plummets.

“You good?” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement.

Your face heats up instantly. “Shut up.”

His smirk deepens. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, well- shut up anyway.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, watching as you place his coffee on the counter. And then—his fingers brush against yours as he reaches for it.

The touch is barely anything—a fleeting graze, the warmth of his skin against yours for a fraction of a second. But it lingers, spreading like static under your skin.

Your breath catches.

Jungkook notices.

He wraps his fingers around the mug, watching you with quiet amusement. “So, random question,” he muses, “if someone asked you to meet up outside of work, would you?”

Your stomach flips.

You keep your expression neutral. “Depends who’s asking.”

Jungkook tilts his head slightly, like he’s really looking at you. “And if it was me?”

You hesitate. The air between you shifts—something unspoken, something charged.

“I’d have to think about it,” you say finally.

Jungkook hums, taking a slow sip of his coffee. His eyes don’t leave yours. “Fair enough.”

You’re still trying to recover from the tension when he leans back, stretching slightly. “I’m actually busy today,” he says, as if that whole exchange didn’t just happen. “That’s why I came early. This place is close to my studio.”

You raise a brow. “Studio?”

He nods. “Got a few songs to record. Prepping for tour.”

Then, casually, he adds, “You should come.”

You blink. “What?”

Jungkook shrugs. “You should come.”

He’s joking. Obviously, right? But for some reason, it unsettles you.

Jungkook smirks again, but you feel a twist in your stomach.

Because what if you’re just another fan?

The words sit between you like something heavy, something you don’t quite know how to hold.

You should come.

Jungkook’s watching you, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, something just shy of amusement but not quite serious either. His smirk lingers at the corner of his lips, and you hate that it’s doing something to you.

“Yeah,” you say, forcing your tone to be light. “I’ll definitely come.”

You expect him to just let it go, but instead—he tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that makes your skin feel hot.

“Would you, though?” he muses, tapping his fingers lightly against the mug.

You blink. “Would I what?”

“Actually come,” he says smoothly. “Or are you just saying that?”

You scoff, arms crossing instinctively over your chest. “Why do you care?”

Jungkook hums, taking a slow sip of his coffee before replying. “I just think it’s interesting,” he says, voice low, “how quick you are to brush it off.”

You swallow. “I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he cuts in, his smirk widening slightly. “Like you were scared to even consider it.”

Your breath catches, heart skipping in your chest. “I wasn’t scared—”

“Oh no?” His brows raise, and he leans forward slightly, his forearm resting against the counter between you. “Then what was it?”

Your mouth opens—then closes. Because the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to think.

Jungkook is dangerous. Not in the way that means trouble, but in the way that makes your pulse race. In the way that makes every teasing remark feel like a dare, every glance feel like a step closer to something you’re not sure you’re ready for.

And the worst part? He knows it.

He sees the way you hesitate, sees the way your breath stutters just slightly, and he eats it up.

You straighten, trying to not let him see the way he’s affecting you. “I don’t just blindly accept invitations from random guys,” you say, tilting your chin slightly.

Jungkook’s lips curve, and his voice drops just a little lower. “So I’m a random guy now?”

You regret your words immediately.

Because suddenly, there’s something about the way he’s looking at you—something a little more serious, a little more intent. And for a split second, you swear you see a flicker of something else in his expression.

Something real.

Something that almost—almost—makes you think he’s actually asking.

But then—just as quickly as it appeared—it’s gone.

Jungkook leans back, his smirk returning. “Noted,” he murmurs, reaching for his coffee again. “Guess I’ll have to work on that.”

Your stomach flips. “On what?”

He shrugs. “On not being a random guy.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the way your lips twitch—like they’re trying not to smile.

Jungkook notices.

And of course, he doesn’t let it go.

“See?” he says, watching you closely. “You like me.”

You scoff. “I tolerate you.”

Jungkook grins, and you hate that it’s unfairly attractive. “That’s just the first stage of falling in love.”

You nearly choke. “Oh my god—”

He laughs, leaning back slightly, clearly entertained. “I’m just saying,” he says, tapping a finger against his mug. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re kind of obsessed with me.”

You gawk at him.

“I—you’re delusional,” you sputter.

“Am I?” He tilts his head. “Or am I just painfully observant?”

“Oh my god—”

“You are, though.”

“I literally am not.”

“Mmm.” He sips his coffee again, eyes twinkling. “Denial is the second stage.”

Your soul leaves your body.

And then—to make things worse—he casually reaches for the sugar, fingers brushing against yours again.

Your breath catches.

It’s subtle—so brief you could almost pretend it didn’t happen. But it did. And you both felt it.

Jungkook pauses, gaze flicking up to yours, and his smirk slowly returns.

You snatch your hand back.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter.

Jungkook huffs a quiet laugh, stirring his coffee lazily. “And yet,” he muses, “you haven’t walked away.”

You don’t have a good comeback for that.

Because—annoyingly—he’s right.

There’s something about him that keeps you here, standing in front of him even though you could just leave, even though every instinct tells you not to entertain him any longer.

Jungkook hums, like he’s completely aware of the way your thoughts are spiraling. Then, after a beat, he glances at his phone.

“Alright,” he sighs, pushing his coffee aside. “I should head out.”

You blink. “Oh.”

You hate the way disappointment tugs at your chest.

Jungkook watches you for a second—like he sees it, like he knows. Then, as he stands, he leans just a little closer, just enough to drop his voice low.

“Try not to miss me too much,” he murmurs.

Your breath stutters.

And then—before you can even think of a response—he straightens, smirks, and casually throws a few bills onto the counter.

Your fingers twitch. “You overpaid—”

“Consider it a tip,” he says smoothly, already walking toward the door.

You stare at his back, watching the way he moves—easy, confident, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Then—just as he reaches the exit—he glances over his shoulder, eyes meeting yours one last time.

And he winks.

The bell chimes as the door swings shut behind him.

And you—standing there, stomach twisting—realize you’re completely, hopelessly fucked.

——

Its finally 9pm. You did call Nari at lunch. Of course you did. You’d left one of your shirts at her house, it’s not really that important, but you want to see her anyway.

You step out of the building, stretching your arms as the night air presses against your skin. It’s finally cooled down, the heat of the day fading into a soft breeze that moves through the streets. The city hums around you—cars rolling past, the faint chatter of people walking in groups, the occasional laugh cutting through the evening air.

You barely look down as you pull your phone from your pocket, already calling Nari before you even hit the sidewalk. It rings twice before she picks up.

“Finally,” she groans, voice thick with exhaustion. “Where are you? I told you to hurry.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “I’m on my way, chill. I left my shirt at your place,”

“My leg’s are killing, i pulled something at the gym today” she whines.

You scoff. “I’m the one walking right now.”

“Yeah, and look at you, surviving,” she deadpans. “Meanwhile, I’m literally dying. I swear, my legs are about to give out.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you mutter, dodging a couple walking too slow in front of you. “Are you sure you still want me to come? You sound like you need a coma.”

“Yes, obviously,” she huffs. “Just hurry up. I need moral support.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Your usual route would have you in Nari’s passenger seat by now, but since she’s not picking you up, you’re taking the train instead. It’s a little out of the way, but you don’t mind the walk.

At least, until you nearly crash into someone.

“Ah, sorry—” you start, stepping back quickly.

The person barely stumbles, but you notice the way his hands twitch slightly, like he almost reached out to steady you. You look up, already ready to move past the awkward moment—

And then your eyes meet his.

It takes a second to register. The mask covers the lower half of his face, and his black cap is pulled low, but those eyes—deep brown, familiar—make your breath catch.

“…Oh,” you murmur. “Hi.”

Jungkook looks at you, frozen for a beat too long. There’s something different about him—he’s stiff, closed off, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie. He glances around, shifting slightly like he’s uneasy.

“…Hey,” he finally says, voice quiet.

You hesitate. There’s something off. You’ve seen Jungkook in a lot of different moods during his visits to the diner- teasing, playful, even quiet—but never like this. His whole body is tense, his shoulders slightly hunched, like he’s trying to make himself smaller. His eyes flick past you, scanning the street, and then back again.

“Are you… okay?” you ask carefully.

“I—yeah,” he says quickly. Too quickly. His voice is lower than usual, tight. “I was just… heading out- of- of the studio…”

The way he says it makes something twist in your chest. You don’t know why it stings, but it does. His whole energy is different—rushed, distant. Like he doesn’t want to be standing here, talking to you. Like he needs to leave.

Your grip tightens around your phone. “Right,” you say, trying to sound normal, but it comes out smaller than you want.

Jungkook shifts on his feet, still looking around. The streetlights cast long shadows over his face, making his expression unreadable.

“I’ll—uh,” he exhales sharply. “I’ll see you around.”

And then he walks away.

Just like that.

You don’t even get the chance to react. One second he’s there, the next he’s disappearing into the crowd, shoulders hunched, head ducked low. It feels like a brush-off. Like something you’re not supposed to take personally, but somehow, you do.

You blink, still holding your phone to your ear, even though it’s not against your ear anymore.

On the other end, Nari’s voice cuts through the thick, sudden silence.

“Hello?” she says. “What happened?”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first. Your chest feels weird—tight, uncomfortable, like something is pressing against it.

Finally, you swallow, forcing your voice to stay even. “I… I can’t come anymore,” you say quietly. “I just realized I have something to do at home.”

A pause. Then—

“Wait, bitch—?”

You hang up.

—

You’re dramatic. You know it. Nari knows it.

It took five calls before you finally picked up, and by that point, she’d already decided you weren’t going home. You were coming to hers, no excuses. And you didn’t fight it much, because she’s right—she always is.

She knows when something’s wrong. And this? This was definitely one of those times.

By the time you get to her place, she’s waiting at the door, arms crossed, scanning your face like she’s trying to read a book that won’t open. You barely step inside before she’s dragging you to the couch, her hands warm against your wrist.

“Alright,” she says, legs tucked under her, eyes sharp. “What the fuck happened?”

You exhale, shaking your head, phone still clenched in your fingers. “Nothing, I just—”

“Don’t even start with that.” She cuts you off fast. “You were about to go home and sulk. So, no. Try again.”

You sink into the cushions, staring at a loose thread on the blanket draped over the armrest. “I ran into Jungkook.”

There’s a beat of silence before she blinks, sitting up straighter. “Okay… and?”

“And he—” You bite your lip, still feeling the sting of it. “He was weird. Different. Like, I don’t know, like he didn’t want to be seen with me or something.”

Her expression twists. “Seriously? You’re fucking joking.”

You shake your head, replaying the way he looked around, the way his voice was quieter than usual, the way he left so fast like he was afraid to be near you. “He barely even looked at me, Nari.”

She scoffs, disbelief turning into something sharper. “What the actual fuck? So he’s all friendly and sweet before, and now suddenly he’s—what? Too good to be seen talking to you?”

You don’t answer, just swallow around the knot in your throat.

“Oh, hell no.” She leans back, arms crossed, eyes narrowing. “This is some bullshit.”

Your fingers tighten around your phone, your nails pressing into your palm. “It just—” You hesitate, then sigh. “It sucked.”

She softens a little, tilting her head. “I know, babe.”

And for a moment, you just sit there, letting the frustration settle between you, the weight of it pressing into your chest.

Because yeah. It really fucking sucked.

But then Nari sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I mean, to be fair, you saw what happened last time. The whole social media thing? That was a mess. He’s probably trying to avoid another situation like that.”

You hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, but now that she’s saying it, it makes sense.

Not that it makes you feel any better.

“Still doesn’t mean he had to be an asshole about it,” you mumble.

“No, he didn’t,” she agrees. Then she exhales dramatically and waves a hand. “Alright, enough of that. I’m over it.”

You let out a small laugh. “You’re over it?”

“Yeah, I’ve decided.” She leans back against the couch. “But you, unfortunately, are not.”

You groan, standing up, grabbing your shirt Nari’s so kindly washed and folded for you. “I really do have to get going home.”

Nari frowns. “What? No. Stay.”

“I can’t, Nari”

Nari rolls her eyes, but there’s a teasing lilt to her voice when she sighs. “Fine. Whatever. Go be responsible, I guess.”

You grab your bag, nudging her with your foot as you pass. “You love me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waves you off, already grabbing her phone. “Now get out before I kidnap you.”

You snort, shaking your head as you step outside. The air is cooler now, the sky shifting into evening. You don’t check your phone until you’re halfway home.

And that’s when you see it. A missed call.

Your stomach flips. But you don’t call him back.

Not yet.

——

The next morning, you stay home.

Nari’s at work alone today, which is a nice change of pace, honestly. She likes having the whole place to herself sometimes, no one to tell her to stop playing her music too loud or to wipe down the counters properly.

It’s a slow morning. Barely any customers.

Until he walks in.

She spots him immediately, even though he’s trying to be subtle about it. Hood up, head down, sitting at the same table near the back, fingers drumming against the wood like he’s waiting for something—or someone.

Nari sighs, grabbing a notepad before heading over.

“If you’re looking for her,” she says flatly, not even bothering with a greeting, “she’s not here today.”

Jungkook blinks up at her, startled. “What—no, I—”

She raises an eyebrow.

He exhales. “Is she okay? She’s not answering my texts.”

Nari scoffs. “Oh, I wonder why.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, and for the first time, she sees it—the guilt, the regret.

“I didn’t mean for it to go like that,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I just… I panicked.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t want things to get out of hand again. I didn’t want her to deal with all the shit that happened last time.”

Nari folds her arms. “So your big plan to protect her was to act like she doesn’t exist?”

“No!” He looks up, eyes desperate. “I just—I fucked up.”

She watches him for a moment, trying to read him.

“You knew what you were doing when you started this,” she says finally. “You knew what could happen.”

He nods. “I know. I know. But it’s not like that. I actually—” He stops, running a hand over his face. “I think like her.”

That catches her off guard.

Not that she hadn’t suspected it, but hearing him say it? That’s different.

Jungkook sighs. “I just need to talk to her.”

Nari exhales sharply. Then, reluctantly, she slides his phone from across his seat and places it on the table.

“Then call her.”

He hesitates. “I already did, last night, she didn’t answer, God she dosent wanna fix this, I fucked up-“

“I swear to God, if you don’t—”

He snatches the phone before she can finish, already dialing.

The first ring feels like it lasts forever.

Then the second.

Then the third.

And then—

”…Hello?”

His breath catches.

Your voice is quiet, wary, like you already know it’s him.

“Jungkook?”

And just like that, he knows.

This is his one shot to make it right.