#and my then boyfriend goes 'yeah no shit. we both do.' and i still think that is the funniest response he could have had

[sapphicides]

call me crazy or gay but i genuinely think the writers, directors, and hell, even the actors knew what they were doing when it came to how they portrayed shauna and jackie's relationship in the pilot. watching it for the first time, i went in completely blind, with no exposure to the fandom, the ships, or anything beyond the core premise of "a group of teenage girls get stuck in a nightmarish lord of the flies/lost scenario after a plane crash and do crazy shit to survive." i fully anticipated any romance in this show, if at all, to be straight. yet i still saw how they established shauna and jackie and immediately thought "my god, these bitches are gay"

from the very first scene we see of jackie (almost) by herself being her faking an orgasm with jeff, clearly implying that she's disinterested in her own boyfriend, to the very first scene we see of shauna and jackie alone together starting with this rom-com esque image of jackie stepping out of her house while music plays in the background and shauna goes from resting bitch face to all smiles

from the longing stares they give each other in their school gym, to shauna responding to tai's "freeze allie out" proposal simply with, "jackie wouldn't like it"

from the scene of shauna dressing with jackie in her room before the party, her snapping at jackie when she merely suggests that shauna sleep with randy and jackie looking genuinely hurt and apologetic by it, to the infamous party scene where shauna looks on at jackie and jeff longingly– except, she's only really looking at jackie, because the entire shot is framed around jackie. for the majority of that scene, jeff is barely even in frame, a faded blur in the background, until he puts his arms around jackie and physically puts himself in shauna's line of vision

the way she immediately takes a pained sip of her beer after

the way she turns around to randy flirting with her, only to turn away with a look of disgust on her face (just like how jackie looked disgusted during jeff's attempt at getting her off)

the way she can't pull her eyes off jackie even when jeff is dropping them off, even when she knows she's about to fuck her boyfriend once she's gone

the way she says goodbye to jackie, tells her she loves her, and jackie doesn't say it back, so she asks jeff to say it to her when they have sex

the show sets up their dynamic to be one that feels inherently romantic to first-time viewers, only to flip it on its head when its reveled that shauna's true interest is in... jeff. she's really in love with jeff? the guy who's face we see maybe a couple of times total, that jeff? the guy who's basically a background character the entire episode, that jeff? yeah, i don't buy it

you could argue that the show places so much emphasis on jackie because it's trying to convey that the affair is eating away at shauna. to some extent, i agree with this, but i really doubt that it's only this. it would explain shauna's snappy and, at times, cagey behavior around jackie, but it doesn't explain the way that jackie is framed by the camera, music, or even some of the writing choices. whenever we see jackie through shauna's eyes, the camera is always focused directly on her, often times with her face illuminated brighter than anyone else. the music that plays behind her is shauna's kind of music (both supernova by liz phair, which shauna chooses to listen to in her car's tape deck, and miss world by hole, which undeniably fits her grungey music taste). she's joined at the hip with shauna, even in scenes where she's with jeff– seriously, there's only one scene where she's completely alone with jeff without shauna, and it's that one. and the same goes for shauna

for the entirety of the pilot, they are in a constant state of push and pull with each other, almost all of their actions being dependent on one another. jeff feels like a plot device at best, a character designed to come between them and to be thrown away once they realize who each other's real love interest is. even upon several rewatches, it still feels this way. even in the adult timeline, it still feels this way. we barely see adult jeff, but we feel both jackie's literal absence and her metaphorical presence in the form of shauna's collection of porcelain bunnies

there is so much foreshadowing and detail packed into the pilot that i have a really hard believing that this was just an oversight or mishandling of their relationship on the show's part. do i think there's going to be any kind of big love confession from shauna any time soon? no. but do i think they intentionally laid the groundwork for her to realize the feelings she had for jackie at some point? yes, i really do

[bombshellsandbluebells]

me: oh man it’s late I should go take out my contacts and get ready for bed

me: leaves room with the intention of going to the bathroom. enters kitchen. sees chips. fails to have any self control and eats chips at 2 in the morning

brain: ok great, mission accomplished. go back to your room

me: goes back to scrolling on tumblr

me, 10 minutes later: ....wait a minute

truly it’s amazing it took me 26 years to figure out I might have ADHD

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐍𝐚𝐩 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

summary: Oscar misses a team meeting, but when Lando goes to look for him, he gets a surprise

author's note: i finally published my first f1 fic!! sorry it's so short, but I have a bunch of other drafts I'm working on rn that will hopefully be finished soon. also, i literally wrote this at midnight inspired by a picture i saw on Pinterest so it's kinda bad but oh well

warnings: none, just fluff (600+ words)

• f1 masterlist • youtubers masterlist •

It was no secret to anyone that Oscar was a clingy boyfriend. The other drivers loved to compare him to a koala because of how often he would wrap himself around you, pulling you close to him and resting his head on top of yours. Although he often annoyed others by getting distracted by you, they couldn't even blame you for it and even Zak had to admit his clingyness was actually quite cute.

Today however, it was annoying – especially to Lando who had spent the last 20 minutes searching for his teammate after he failed to show up to the team meeting. He had already checked everywhere he could think of and was beginning to contemplate calling the police and reporting the younger boy missing when he heard a faint snore coming from a small room on his left. Slowly pushing open the door, Lando was met with the sight of you and Oscar sleeping on a sofa, your limbs so tightly wrapped around each other that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began.

As quietly as he could, Lando took out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of you and posted it on his story. He slid it back in his pocket, wondering how to wake his teammate without disturbing you, when Oscar stirred, stretching out his long limbs and opening his bleary eyes.

"Wakey wakey sleepyhead," Lando teased, causing the other boy to groan.

Oscar wriggled his arm out from under you, bringing it up to rub his eyes. "What time is it?" He asked.

"It's almost 2"

"WHAT!" Oscar shot up, accidentally waking you in the process, "shit I missed the meeting didn't I."

"Oz? What's wrong?" You spoke as you sat up, voice still slightly scratchy from sleep.

He froze, looking at you with wide eyes and a guilty expression. "Um... I forgot to set an alarm and I kinda slept through the team meeting."

"Oscar!" You scolded with a laugh, " Zak is gonna be so mad!"

Lando chuckled, making you jump as you hadn't realised he was there. "Oh yeah, he's pissed by the way."

Dragging a hand down his face with a sigh, your boyfriend reluctantly pulled himself out of your arms and stood up. "I'm gonna go catch up with the team," he announced, raking a hand through his hair as he rushed out to the garage.

"Oh I can't wait to see what Zak is gonna say about this" Lando began, a grinning cheekily at you. Narrowing your eyes at him in response, he held up his hands in surrender. "Ok, alright, I'm going!"

Smiling wryly at his childish antics, you began packing away your stuff, knowing that Oscar would be finished soon as he tended to become antisocial when tired. Just as you finished putting the last item in your bag, the Australian appeared in the doorway, affection laced with exhaustion in his eyes as he observed you. When you had finished, he held out his hand for you to grab as he led you through the McLaren hospitality. You had almost reached the exit when a familiar voice rang out behind you.

"Ah, Oscar, there you are!"

You both turned around guiltily to come face to face with a less than pleased Zak Brown. "We missed you in the meeting earlier, mate. I hope that nap was worth it."

"Oh yeah sorry I was um-" Oscar paused, a frown overtaking his features as he realised what the older man had said. "Wait how do you know about that?"

Zak chuckled, calling over his shoulder as he walked away, "Let's just say a certain someone isn't very good at keeping secrets."

"Lando, that absolute muppet!"

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 4 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 17.1K words

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, alcohol consumption, misogyny ���, club fight... but also lots of screaming into your pillow moments part 2, oc goes twenty different emptions in like..one hour (my babyy😖) and uhhhhhh the biggest warning of them all: jungkook pov and the ending😖

NOTES pls pretend you didnt see that post earlier,, it was a testament to my failure lets forget about it anyway WE ARE SOOOO SOO BACK!! hope you guys enjoy this one and as usual, let me know what you think and lets chat!!

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

“I’m coming home!” Were Jimin’s first words as soon as you answer his facetime invite. 

With eyes barely open, you push your face deeper in the plush of your pillows, groaning. 

“Jimin, it’s six am.” 

“And?” Jimin dismisses. “We ought to celebrate!” 

“I’m not even up yet.”

“So, you hate me.” 

You let out a grumble, this time snapping your eyes fully open to see Jimin’s brow arched your way, his attitude reaching you even when you're a thousand miles apart. Classic Jimin. 

“You’re a drama queen, and for the record, I got everything covered. Octagon, VIP area, 1 am. Dress slutty. Have fun, loosen up. Go crazy.” 

“O– kay ,” Jimin says, chuckling in amusement at your flat tone with your deadpanned face. “God, I just can’t wait to go back. You will not believe all of the shit I’ll be telling you once I get there.” 

You prop your phone on your nightstand and begin to stretch on your bed. “You better tell me you have Italian men’s IGs to refer to me.” you joke. Sleep is slowly starting to fade away from your system. Glancing at the wall clock from across the room, you take note it’s almost time to get ready for work.w

“Please,” he rolls his eyes. “As if you’re gonna respond when they do send you a DM.” 

That earns an abrupt laugh from you. “I do respond, though.” you giggle. You stand up from the bed, carrying the phone with you as you head to the living room to prepare your breakfast. 

“Babe, you’ve responded to two out of ten men I referred to you, and you ghosted two, by the way.” 

You look at him in shock. “What, you supported me!” 

“Still, though… ugh, the Wooseok guy still asks about you, by the way. It was literally so awkward when we met at that– I forgot, but it was a party.” 

You cringe internally, and it probably translates to your face because you hear Jimin laughing from the other side of the line. Shaking your head, you tell Jimin, “Nope– not gonna feel sorry. He was weird as fuck, and I genuinely think – still to this day – that he’s a fury.” 

Jimin’s expression morphs into distaste. “Yeah, no, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was true based on the stories you told me but I swear to you he felt like a normal person to me when we first met.” You and Jimin both gave each other a knowing smile; pursed lips and a scrunched nose, already getting where both your heads are at. But Jimin swerves to the next subject smoothly, “Anyway, I see your apartment’s all fixed, considering you’re there.” 

You light up at the mention and nod. Looking around, you can’t help the smile that spreads over your lips, thinking that finally, it’s all okay now. Like nothing even happened.

“Oh, yeah. It actually is.” you say, enthusiasm apparent in your voice.

“You know you could’ve stayed at my place, right?”

You give him a dismissive wave of your hand, despite smiling still, appreciating the offer regardless. You know you could’ve and that he wouldn’t have minded, but, “Yeah, no, I didn’t want to impose.”

That earns an instant eye roll from Jimin, followed by a scoff, “You’re literally my blood sister.”

“I know! But remember when I had to stay over at your place for three days earlier this year because of some gas leak…” you bring it up, “I swear this complex is out to get me.”

“You need to move out.”

The impassive look you give him is almost warranted.

“And you need to give me a new job for that.” 

Jimin snickers. “... which would be quite ironic because I don’t even have one in the first place.” 

You know it’s a bummer subject but since he mentioned it, anyway, you decide to ask, “How’s the training going, by the way? Pretty sure Ms. Lim has blown up your phone over the course of your absence.” Ms. Lim is the PR head of their company, and Jimin instantly sours at the mention of her name. 

With a grimace, he completely shuts down the subject. “I don’t even wanna talk about it.” 

You give him a sympathizing smile before Jimin picks up the conversation with a more not-so-bummer subject. He asked you how work has been, and he told you all about the places he and Namjoon went to in Italy. He asked about your thing with Taemu, and you could only give him a sheepish smile, one that he chastised you for because “how dare you keep slutty information from me!” . You almost feel bad because it wasn’t that at all, but because you didn’t want to dig deeper into your own grave, you decided to change the topic and talked about how you two are going to spend the night later on when you meet, and soon, you had to end the call so you can catch your bus. 

Jimin has always told you you’re a bad liar. You couldn’t lie even if your life depended on it. But you do it, anyway, even though many instances have already proved the notion right, and one of them presents itself now.

“Sol, I have a question.” You feel bad for your lip as you have to nibble on it for what seemed to be the nth time for the day, treading on your thoughts lightly as Sol turns to look at your side to acknowledge you.

She casts one last glance on her computer before saying, “Is it controversial?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, ask Junhwi,” that earns an eye roll from you instantly, making Sol snicker a quiet laughter. “Kidding. What is it?” 

You’re currently on your lunch break, and what’s the harm in talking about a few things in your head that’s been keeping you up all night these past few days?

“Okay…” you begin, making sure to look around and confirm nobody’s listening. They probably are not and couldn’t care less either. “So this happened to a friend.” you say, as if putting out a disclaimer, gauging Sol’s face for a reaction. 

There wasn’t much. She just raised an intrigued brow, “Uh-huh.”  

How do you even begin? 

“So… she’s kind of talking to this guy,” you start, furrowing your brows, actively thinking about your choice of words. Your friend hums and you continue, “Then one time, this guy sort of like– she’s not exactly sure, but he kind of… tried to kiss her?” You didn’t mean for that to sound so unsure.

With the way Sol’s brow has arched way more at that, you imagine she’s noticing your hesitance in speaking about this in the first place.

“How do you kind of try to kiss a person?”

“Like, they were hugging. Or whatever–” you try to not let yourself be too descriptive, but in the process of that, pictures of that night come flashing in your head. Against your better judgement, there’s heat that creeps up in your cheeks when you get your next words out, “The guy just, uh, swooped down for a kiss. I mean, he was supposed to go for a kiss. But then the girl– my friend– dodged it. So basically, nothing happened.” 

“Why? She doesn’t like him?” 

“That…” Sol probably didn’t mean to but she definitely catches your tongue with the question. You lean back, blinking at her. “I… hah . That’s the… thing. I think… she likes him. But she’s not sure. I think she’s having second thoughts… but to be honest I think she has a crush on the guy but she’s trying to pull herself away from it but then she can’t do it because things are starting to feel a little different.” You let out one heavy puff after you spit the monologue out in one breathing. If Sol was already looking at you weird a few seconds ago, you’re now convinced you’ve unknowingly grown another head behind you. But you continue anyway. “... what does all of that mean?”   

“O… kay,” She says, sounding a little uncertain. She turns her body to you now completely. With the way she scoots her chair closer to you, leaning forward and hunching to be in your earshot, you realize she’s actually just become more invested. “Babe, you have to walk me through this like I’m five. So you and this guy are talking, you have a crush on him, and then he tried to kiss you, but you dodged it. Right?”

“Yeah! Something like that–” and upon realizing that you walked into a trap without even that much effort coming from her, your eyes widen while your friend just grins at you like she knew that was coming. You shake your head vehemently. “Wait, no, no, no. It’s not me.” 

Sol rolls her eyes. Your shoulders deflate. 

You see, Jimin is always right about everything. When he told you you suck ass at lying and you should never try it, he was just looking out for you. And why are you so surprised when these past few weeks, all your lies have blown up right in your face? And at the most inconvenient times and places too, at that – if seeing Jungkook at Jimin’s mom’s birthday party and seeing him in your company’s elevator is anything to go by.

“Alright, it’s me.” you say with a defeated tone. 

Sol stares at you with her squinted eyes. “You whore. Who’s the guy?”

And how are you supposed to say it’s Jeon Jungkook, the one who’s like seven floors above you, the son of the president of the very company you’re currently working in right now, and the interim CTO as of the moment and then expect her to believe you? 

So you shrug, shaking your head. “It’s not anyone you know.”

“Well, thank god! I don’t know anyone who’s decent enough to date any of my friends!” You’re about to thank the heavens when you thought she wouldn’t dig too much into that, but then she adds, “Show me a pic.” She excitedly huddles closer to you, looking right at your phone on your desk.

Well, no. 

“Nah, that’s not relevant to the issue at hand. And… the whole thing’s not even serious–” A blatant lie, but you carry through, “And the… almost-kiss happened, like, two days ago and I’m still–” you cut yourself off with a pained groan, which makes Sol look at you with concern. You purse your lips into a thin line, then. “We were actually drinking at his place together. So we were both kind of drunk? Though that was me mostly. I’m thinking, maybe, I misjudged the whole thing or worse, I just imagined it.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s way too elaborate and your feelings about this feels way too real to just come from an imagination. You said he tried to kiss you, right?” She grazes you with a gentle nudge on the arm. 

“Maybe?” 

“What do you mean, maybe?”

“I don’t know. It was just weird. I swear he tried to kiss me, but I could be wrong. I couldn’t think of reasons for him to try to do that. And I don’t even know why I avoided it in the first place.” You say with a frown, and then sighing when you realize your own thought process doesn’t make any sense.

“Well, what happened after?” 

You grimace. “I told him we should probably sleep,” You remember him carrying you to his bedroom – and as per your shameless request, at that. You intentionally leave that out because even you cannot comprehend what it meant. Why did Jungkook do all that? And did he , really? Or you just somehow deluded yourself into thinking that there is more to his actions rather than what they really are on the surface? “He was just like… he laughed it off, then that was the last of it. I slept in his room alone, and the morning after, I went out because he wasn’t there anymore. Went to work early.”

Sol gasps. “Oh brother…”

Your heart begins to hammer at her tone.

“What.”

“He hasn’t reached out after that night?” 

You wince, and not because of what she thinks it’s for.

“He actually did,” Sol looks at you in question, rightfully so. You nibble on your bottom lip before elaborating, “So a few days before that happened, he bought me a couch cushion. And then he texted me if I wanted it because I didn’t bring it with me when I left his apartment.” 

You can see Sol’s confusion beginning to draw on her face. “I’m sorry, he bought you a what?”

“A cushion.”

It takes her a few seconds to form a response. “You know what, I’m not even gonna ask why. But you know what I’m very certain of right now?” 

“... what?”

“You should’ve married him on the spot.”

“What?”

Sol snickers an overjoyed laugh, clearly pleased with herself at your incredulous reaction. “No, it totally makes sense, trust me. But okay. Then what happened after? What did you say to his text?” You stare at each other for awhile, with Sol smiling brightly, obviously expecting you to say something good. You grind your teeth to avoid cringing as you brace yourself for what’s to come, and as if realizing that from your face, Sol frowns. “Oh my god, don’t tell me you haven’t replied to him!”

You can’t help but wince. “Would you hate me if I confirm that?”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, damn. I can’t help you.”

“Ugh…” You groan, bringing your palms to your cheeks, pouting at her, feeling sort of defeated at this point. 

Sol dramatically holds one hand out, giving it an upward flick as if to tell you you’re being ridiculous for not seeing a point so clearly soon. “Obviously, this guy likes you! That man wants to fuck you ten ways to Sunday but also wants to wife you up and pay your mortgage in straight cash as well as your water and electricity bills. And he’d most likely set up your nonexistent kids’ trust funds the first month into the marriage because he just wants to make sure.”

Your jaw drops. “Okay…? Now you’re doing too much.”

She rolls her eyes in response, as if what she said is a totally normal response.

“You’re dense, it’s crazy. You couldn’t think of a reason why he tried to kiss you? Listen, why would you want to kiss someone? Because you like them. Of course he likes you! And he asked you about the cushion because he probably didn’t want to bombard you with questions about what happened the previous night. It shows he still wants to keep whatever it is you have going on.”

You sigh, seeing her point. “I… know.”

“You don’t wanna make a move? I mean, you seem to really like him.” Sol says, looking at your face. You give her a slight nod, feeling that there’s no use denying that. 

But…

“I can’t, though.” you say, pursing your lips. 

Frowning, Sol tilts her head in genuine confusion. “Why?”

“Because he’s…” you try to think of any adjectives to describe Jungkook. He’s… charming. Kind. Smart. Funny, in his own little way. So down to earth. Handsome. Pretty. Tall. Really… big– muscly in all the right ways. But those things are not helpful to justify your case on why you don’t want to pursue… whatever it is you two have going on. Because as much as the sole memory of him holding your waist while he leaned down to your face caressing your cheeks in the way he softly did, his cologne wafting your senses into dysfunction, he’s still someone that you just can’t get involved with. “He’s just really out of my league.”

A few beats. Then, Sol raises her eyebrow.

“That’s it?” Sol asks, “That’s the big reveal?” 

“... Yeah?”

“Honey, a man can never be out of any woman’s league.” 

“I–” you crack a chuckle, rolling your eyes but smiling anyway. “I know what you mean. But he’s genuinely really out of an average person’s league, I’m telling you.”

“What, does he have a Nobel prize or something?”

You laugh, nudging Sol. She mirrors your laughter.

When you settle down into silence again, you tell her, “He’s a… he’s really nice and sweet, though he doesn’t have a Nobel prize–” you roll your eyes playfully when Sol laughs again. “But yeah, I don’t know. I’m still… confused about my own feelings. I’ve always had a crush on him ever since I first met him, and I just always kind of shrugged it off? But ever since that night… I’ve been feeling weird. And I haven’t talked to him, haven’t replied to any of his texts yet. You know how non confrontational I am and it gets really bad, but I just genuinely don’t know how to approach this. The whole thing is confusing.”

Sol gives you a sympathetic smile. “I get that.”

Nodding, you continue speaking your thoughts, “You know the thing about nice guys… it’s that, they’re so nice that you can’t figure out if you just put yourself into a deep psychosis where they care about you more than they do with other people. And it’s like, yeah, it’s nice that he’s sweet, but what if he’s just like that with everybody?”

“You mean you think he also tries to kiss everybody?” Sol quips.

You chuckle. She got you there. “Come on.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it!” Giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder, Sol gently says. “I think what you need to do right now is just be honest to yourself first. Really try to figure out if you like this guy romantically or not.”

“That’s the thing, I just genuinely don’t know. I like the idea, maybe?” 

She nods. “Then just enjoy the flow for the meantime? I do think there’s something in there, though.” 

“Really?” you didn’t mean to perk up at that but you did, anyway, making Sol smile, even though she doesn’t point that out.  

“Of course I won’t know completely. Unless you show me this guy…” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sorry about this gossip turned into bummer stuff. I know it’s depressing.” 

“I don’t mind,” She shrugs coolly. “You listen to my boy problems all the time. And Jimin can suck on my plastic dick but you’re my best friend too.” 

Your laughter becomes louder, but you tone it down just as instantly, slapping Sol lightly. 

“Anyway, speaking of the devil, he actually invited you to come along later. We’re going for drinks at the Octagon.”

“Ohh,” Sol says in intrigue. But then she pouts sadly. “I wanna go. But Junhwi and I have a thing later,” You’re quiet for a while. When Sol sees your expression– your very bad attempt at a neutral expression– she rolls her eyes, knowing what you’re probably thinking. “Don’t even start.”

“What! I didn’t even say anything.” 

“It’s a work thing.” 

“Sure.” 

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at me.” 

You laugh. “Whatever, Sol.” 

She rolls her eyes again. “Whatever, too. Drink your hearts out, by the way.” 

You shrug. “Nah, I’m probably not gonna drink that much.”

“Jimin, I’m starting to feel dizzy”

Jimin laughs, stepping closer to you while still swaying his body to the music playing in the club. He looks at the tequila in your hand – your third one for the night in the span of an hour… and thirty minutes? He tried to stop you from getting it, but you swore you can handle it and you can, you know you can, but maybe you’re not too sure about that anymore as you’re beginning to feel a little light on your feet.

“What happened to you saying you weren’t in the mood for drinking tonight?” He arches a brow. 

You groan, sounding more like a whine. “What’s up with these tequilas! If I get alcohol poisoning, is the club going to pay for it?” 

“They won’t. I’ll have to haul your ass to the ER myself.” 

“You can’t even do that because I know you’re three drinks away from tripping on your face.” 

Jimin rolls his eyes playfully. “No, I’m not. Unlike you I don’t have the tolerance of a freshman college girl,” He gets a hold of you when he’s closer, linking your arms together to guide you to your table, where you left Namjoon as per his insistence for you to enjoy yourselves on the dancefloor and catch up. Jimin said his boyfriend is actually leaving soon the next two days, so they’re making it count every hour, you guess. “Come on, I need to introduce you to someone. I’m pretty sure he’s arrived now.” 

You halt on your steps and look at Jimin alarmingly. “Who is it? I told you I’m hitting it off with Taemu these days.” The lie sits heavy on your tongue but Jimin calls bullshit right away.

“Is the hitting it off in the room with us when you just told me you literally do not care like just awhile ago?” 

You let yourself follow Jimin’s steps as you mumble, “Fine.”

Maybe the tequila had let your tongue slip that information. Great. Now you can’t use Taemu as a shield when Jimin asks about your lovelife.

But anyway, it’d be good, right? Meeting other people tonight? It’s been long since you dated somebody. And it would definitely be good for you if you talk to them as soon as now to forget certain things. Certain things like a certain somebody with the long, fluffy, brunette hair whose eyes speak the language of the moon and whose smile gives you the feeling of seeing ten puppies and twenty kittens all at once but at the same time makes you want to whip all your hair out because he casually does things like make your heart hammer in your chest at an abnormal pace by one, brief touch and then try to kiss you and laughs it off when you dodge it and tell him you’re sleepy. Like he doesn’t mind that you may want things to go… slow.    

But fuck. You’re supposed to avoid thinking about him. Not tonight. Not when Jimin’s apparently introducing you to somebody.

You’re not into rebounds or shit like that, and you’re not cruel to use somebody to move on from someone else – but maybe it’s only a matter of time before you dig your own grave too deep by prisoning yourself in the specific thoughts of a certain someone and you’d find it too late to move on.

So, yeah, it’d definitely be a good thing to meet and talk to other people right now.

And you’re sure whoever Jimin is having you meet with tonight is nice, anyway. 

From afar, you can see your table and the familiar figure of Namjoon’s figure facing towards your direction. You’re about to wave so he can see you and Jimin approaching but you notice another frame across his seat. Namjoon and the unknown person (who is judging from the back is definitely a man) is presumably the one Jimin is meaning to introduce you to, and your best friend mentions it right away beside you. 

“Oh, that’s him!” Jimin yelps, excitement filling his words. You look at him and before you realize it, you’re already near the table. You’re just about to ask who it is, forgetting to do so during your walk, when Namjoon suddenly gestures to you both in recognition; dimples showing even in the dim lighting as he smiles at you two. He glances back at the guy in front of him, who as a result, turns his body to look in your direction.

And what. The. Actual. Fuck.

How many times – how many fucking times are you going to see Jeon Jungkook in the most inconvenient places? 

Can you somehow make yourself disappear at the speed of light? Did Einstein ever figure that out and the US government just fabricated a lie that he implied that very act was contrary to the law of Physics so people don’t attempt it? 

Because as of now, you could have used that trick. 

Jungkook looks stricken in his seat for a solid beat until Jimin comes crashing into him, greeting the man enthusiastically.

“Jeon Jungkook, the man himself!” Jimin says, spreading open his arms, grinning widely. You can see Namjoon smiling at both of them, and you watch as Jungkook stands up from the couch to meet Jimin’s half-hug. Jimin pulls back a little. “I thought you wouldn’t make it tonight.” 

Jungkook chuckles, giving Jimin a light pat on the back. “Nah,” he says with a grin. “I wanted to make time to see you.” You try not to linger on the way his biceps subtly flex under the slim long-sleeve tee he’s wearing, its sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing a hint of the veins tracing his forearms. It draws your attention to your ensemble – a sparkly cropped halter top that leaves much of your midriff exposed, paired with a mini skirt. You’ve seen each other in towels before, sure, but somehow, being around each other like this feels different… no?

“This is __,” Jimin says, gesturing to you and looping an arm through yours to pull you closer. “You know her.” 

Your eyebrow shoots up, and you instantly look at Jimin in quiet surprise. Before you can say anything, Jungkook lets out a deep chuckle. The sound drawls your gaze back to him, and for a second, your eyes meet. 

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he extends a hand towards you. His voice is… quite charming when he adds, “I heard a lot about you.”

You hesitate for a moment before taking his hand, unsure if it’s just the alcohol coursing through your system or something else entirely, but the second his sizable hand engulfs yours; a warmth shoots straight to your cheeks. His grip is firm yet gentle.

You swear the handshake lingers a beat too long. 

“Good things, I hope?” you quip, managing a small smile despite the odd flutter in your chest. 

“Lots of good things.” Jungkook replies with a nod, his gaze steady. 

“Yeah?”

His eyes don’t waver, and somehow, you find yourself holding his stare longer than you intended until he arches a brow slightly, the subtle expression earning a small, involuntary tug on your lips. Jungkook doesn’t miss that and mirrors the gesture just as indiscreetly, head dipping in a barely-there nod to respond to you. 

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad, then,” You turn to look at Jimin to avoid letting the moment stretch further, unintentionally picking your voice up an octave higher – a small nervous habit because there was something that flashed on Jimin’s face witnessing both your and Jungkook’s interaction. “Anyway, I’m so glad we finally met! Jimin’s always mentioned you to me and all that stuff. Hey, Jimin, this is great! Joon, you guys know each other?” You say, desperate to divert the attention and glancing at Namjoon. 

He nods with an easy-going smile. “Yeah, we went to the same post-grad uni together in Cali.” 

Jimin perks up and slides over beside Namjoon, who immediately drapes an arm around him in a half-hug, letting him lean against his shoulder. “Jungkook’s actually the one who introduced us.” Jimin says, glancing fondly at Namjoon.

You blink in surprise. “Really?” Awkward as you may feel about the whole thing, you’re also genuinely surprised about the new information. You think you remember Jimin saying somebody introduced someone to him when he and Namjoon started, but you didn’t think it was his cousin.

“Yep,” Jimin nods, and Namjoon chuckles softly beside him.

The two of them are now comfortably seated on the couch, leaving the only open spot directly across from them. Before you can decide whether to sit or keep standing, Jungkook gestures subtly toward the available seat, his expression unreadable. You step forward hesitantly, only to realize he’s following right behind you.

Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of his proximity. Fuck. Even though he isn’t sitting that close, the scent of his cologne – clean, warm, and annoyingly alluring – wraps around you like a second presence. Why does he always have to smell good? You try not to fidget as you glance back at Jimin.

Your best friend grins as he leans on his elbows, looking between you and Jungkook. “I’ve always wanted you two to meet, you know? This is perfect! I was trying to keep it a surprise.” 

“Oh, it’s a surprise alright.” you mutter, forcing a laugh. 

“Pleasantly surprised.” Jungkook adds, his tone light, though the way his lips quirked upward makes your heart race.

Jimin laughs and there’s a tinge of evilness to it, and you know full well he did this intentionally.  Why, you don’t even know. He’s just like that for no reason. You’re gonna kill him. 

“You’re still staying at Hannam, right, Jungkook?” Jimin asks suddenly.

You freeze on the spot, and you hope no one notices.

Jungkook takes a moment before answering, his voice calm and casual. “Yes, still there. Why?” 

Wait… what?

Jimin nods. “Surprised you’re managing there. Thought you wouldn’t last a month.” 

Namjoon laughs. “Yeah, Yoongi hates that place.”

Beside you, Jungkook lets out a soft laugh. “Nah, it’s fine for now.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to let your surprise show. He’s lying – and you know you told him straight up to not tell Jimin about you two knowing each other yet, but you didn’t know he’d make good on his promise. It’s a small thing, but it makes your chest tighten in ways you’re not ready to unpack.

Surprisingly, the conversation starts to flow easily among the four of you. Jungkook asks Namjoon about his work in Italy, and at first, you find it hard to engage in it casually because you can’t shrug off the fact that you’re in such a casual setting with your co-worker– and not just a regular co-worker at that, but an executive at your company; but the relaxed atmosphere starts to chip away at your tension. Jimin cracks a joke, breaking any unease, and soon you’re laughing along, listening as he shares his own experiences in Italy as well. Jungkook jumps in with his own joke you can’t even recall now, and the sound of his laugh is infectious enough to make you smile.

Switching between fruit punch and water helps ease the lingering buzz of tequila in your system, though it doesn’t fully clear your head.

“Fuck,” Jimin suddenly hisses, grabbing everyone’s reaction. “Need to go to the bathroom.”

The words feel like confetti in your ears; the sun is up again, and the gates of heaven open upon you.

“I’ll come with you!” You blurt out, sounding overly enthusiastic. You feel the stares of Jungkook and Namjoon but you choose to ignore them, focusing on Jimin instead. 

Your best friend sends you a suspicious look, but after a pointed stare and a forced smile on your end, he relents. “Alright.” 

When you stand up, you make a misstep and you stumble a little on your feet. 

Concerned sounds erupt from both Namjoon and Jimin, but before they can do anything, an arm shoots up around your waist, with another one wrapping around your wrist to steady you. 

It’s Jungkook. The warmth that suddenly surrounds your skin is Jungkook – seated by the edge of the same couch you’re on, he managed to quickly catch you mid-fall.

“Here.” He murmurs, almost a whisper, helping you stand up straight. 

You blink, stunned at the warmth that envelopes you at that moment.

“T-thanks.” you stammer when he lets go, the sudden absence of his touch leaving your skin colder than you expected. You shake off the feeling, glancing at Namjoon and Jimin to gauge their reactions, but they just look like usual when they see you’re okay. 

“It’s fine,” Jungkook smiles gently, sipping from his drink. A non-alcoholic beer, you suppose. He gestures to the cleared space in front of him, and you awkwardly stand up, taking a few steps while trying not to graze him. He’s polite enough to avert his gaze, sparing you further embarrassment when you quite literally have the front of your body going all up on his face while you maneuver past the table. 

“Careful next time!” Jimin teases lightheartedly, interlocking his arms around you when you get near him. “We’ll be right back.” he adds, glancing at the guys as you both walk away.

Once you’re out of earshot, you pull Jimin at a corner and grab his arm tightly.  “Oh my god, Jimin,” You start, looking around one more time. “That was my freaking boss!” 

As if not understanding the weight of the situation, Jimin rolls his eyes. “He’s not your boss, he’s just some guy.” 

“Some guy who happens to be an executive at the company I work in? This is the most awkward night of my life!” 

“Babe, I know that. But just try not to think so much about it. It’s just Jungkook – we’re all out here as friends. You and he didn’t meet here as coworkers or whatever. It’s not a big deal.”

“To you , but to me this is just… not…” you trail off, fishing for the right word. “.... appropriate.” 

A groan escapes Jimin’s mouth at that, and you know your wording was a bit exaggerated but you can’t help it. This whole thing is insane. You can’t believe you’re meeting and you’re hanging out with Jungkook in the presence of his cousin who also happens to be your best friend. 

“Okay, you know what? Try to think about it like this: that guy right there–” he points to the general direction of your table, then looks at you seriously in the eyes. “That’s not your interim CTO. That’s just a guy I grew up with very closely who I used to order around when he was a baby.” 

“Jimin.” you roll your eyes at him.

He insists. “No, really, that’s true! Just think of him as some sort of friend, please? I’ve been really wanting for you guys to meet and anyway, it seems like you like him and he likes you! Why worry about anything?” He takes your wrists and gives you the best puppy eyes ever he always sports when he wants something, and this time you let out a defeated sigh.

Thinking of Jungkook as Jimin’s younger cousin does help put things into perspective– it’s a bit of mental gymnastics, sure, but it works. Suddenly, the idea of meeting him in a nightclub doesn’t seem so strange. And you really do appreciate Jimin’s excitement about your meeting. After all, as he put it, having his Favorite Person On Earth (which, according to a very reliable source: you) and his Favorite Cousin meet is a big deal for him.  

“Okay, fine. But just know if this happens to you – like imagine meeting up with Ms. Lim at a nightclub – I’ll be laughing at your damn face.” 

Jimin snickers a laugh, and you both continue your way to the restroom. 

“But you know what I think?” he suddenly says, breaking the silence.

You raise a brow at him in curiosity. “What?”

He grins mischievously. “What you said earlier – it’s inappropriate but hear me out. Jungkook is exactly your type.”

“Excuse me, what? ”

“No, okay, listen!” He raises his palms as if to plead his case and begins listing every trait that apparently aligns Jungkook with your type. “He’s a tech guy. He would usually wear glasses – and don’t even try to deny again that you don’t have a thing for it, girl – and he’s objectively attractive, as far as straight men go.” 

With every word, your jaw drops a little more.

“What are you even talking about?” You ask, utterly dumbfounded.

Jimin squints at you, feigning suspicion. “He has my genes, __, you don’t think he’s attractive?” 

“First off,” you start, rolling your eyes, “that would mean I find you attractive, which is gross and absolutely not true. You’re like my brother,” Jimin only laughs, clearly entertained, so you double down. “Second I don’t exclusively date tech guys, okay? Jesus Christ. And I definitely don’t have a thing for men in eyeglasses. What is wrong with you.” 

Jimin just stands there, squinting his eyes more at you with that infuriatingly inquisitive expression. You do your best to hold a neutral face under his scrutiny.

“You got that pondering look,” Jimin concludes with a victorious smirk. “You’re totally thinking about it!”  

You gasp, scandalized. “You’re unbelievable, Jimin. That’s your cousin and my boss!–”

He bursts out into laughter. “I’d say something about how defensive you’re getting, but I’m too drunk and really need to pee.”

You swat at his arm, following his steps anyway. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, you know that?” 

Your best friend throws you a teasing glance. “For the record, Jungkook’s only thirty. Not that old, in case you were wondering.”

“Oh my god, for the last time, I am not thinking about your cousin!” You swear you’re gonna kill him, and then yourself. 

“Boohoo. What, you can’t date your friend’s relatives?” Jimin muses with a teasing tone.

“Yes, Jimin, it’s called boundaries,” you snap. Jimin still wouldn’t drop the malicious gaze, making you groan. Just how far is the restroom here? “Seriously, that’s completely unethical. I would never date any relative of yours, let alone if they’re my boss.”

Jimin starts cackling, clearly enjoying how worked up you are. “ Unethical ? Come on, you’re gonna get punished for premarital sex, anyway. Might as well date your boss while you’re at it.”

You hate that he’s so damn funny, even when he’s being a complete pain. Despite yourself, you can’t help but laugh at his ridiculous retort.

“Fuck off. I hope your bladder explodes.” you mutter.

Jimin’s laughter echoes around you, but finally, the restroom comes into view.

“Relax,” he says between chuckles. “I’m only joking. Jungkook h—”

Before he can finish, someone barrels into you – quite hard that you almost fall on your feet.

Instinctively, you let out a hurried, “Oh! I’m so sorry—” 

“Watch where you’re fucking going, bitch.”

The words take a second to register. Your shoulder throbs where they collided with you, but before you can react, Jimin steps forward.

“Excuse me?” your best friend snaps, his tone sharp.

The stranger doesn’t miss a beat, sneering as he looks you up and down. His gaze lingers far too long on your chest, making your stomach churn. 

“I said what I said.” he replies, completely unapologetic.

“Hey, that’s not cool, man. Just apologize to her, you hit her pretty hard.” Jimin says, positioning himself slightly in front of you as though to shield you from the man.

“What are you, her boyfriend?” The man scoffs. “The little princess slut needs her knight and shining armor—” 

Your patience snaps. “What the hell did you just call me?” You demand, stepping around Jimin.

The man smirks and takes a step closer. “What are you gonna do about it, slut?”

Jimin grabs your arm, trying to hold you back.

“Back off, man. I’m calling security.”

The tension in the air crackles, and you can feel the adrenaline surging in your veins. “Let go, Jimin,” you mutter, pulling free from his grip. You take a step forward, looking the man dead in the eye. “You think I’m scared? You get all up in our personal space calling me names and you think we’ll run for our lives after, huh?”

You watch as the smugness gets wiped out of his face instantly. He doesn’t form a response right away, just gawks at you as if he can’t believe you’re facing him off. Your brows shoots up at him.

This is the problem with assholes. They think they can intimidate you, especially men, but when confronted, they go back to their shells looking dumb as fuck. 

“You slut. Do you know who I am?” The man raises his hand, shoving your shoulder hard enough to make you stagger.

At this point, you’re fuming. What the fuck is this guy’s problem? 

Before you can retaliate, Jimin lunges forward, pushing the man back, just as he forceful as he did to you. “Don’t fucking touch her!” Jimin yells, his voice rising above the growing murmur of the crowd. “This is straight-up harassment and you can fuck off when the security kicks you out of here. Fuckin’ pussy.” With that, Jimin tugs your arm, already turning on his heel to go to the opposite reaction, ready to leave. But all of a sudden, the other guy goes for a punch, and it lands right on Jimin’s cheek. 

You gasp audibly.

Onlookers get more intrigued, and you don’t have it in you to think straight when your brain decides to go in between two men fighting. In the hopes of getting Jimin out of the way, you step in only to get elbowed on the jaw by the stranger when your best friend swings at the guy back; your reflexes not fast enough to avoid it

You can’t focus on the pain when panic arises upon the growing scene before you.  

“Jimin, stop!” You exclaim, trying to grab the back of his shirt. But the stranger only retaliates, and the whole thing is starting to blow out of proportion. 

“Hey! What is going on here?” 

You whip around to see Namjoon striding toward the commotion, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. Relief floods through you as he reaches you just in time to pull Jimin away. Two security guards arrive on the scene, stepping between Jimin and the man to break up the fight.

“What is your problem, man?” Namjoon scowls at the guy, wrapping his arm around Jimin. You hurry to them and help him assist your best friend, holding his shoulder.  

“Ask him and that fucking girlfriend of his. It’s that bitch’s fault! Do you even fucking know who I am?” 

Your eyes widen at the accusation. 

You gape at him, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? You ran into me, started cussing me out, shoved me two times and punched my frie—” 

“Enough!” one of the security guards cuts in, his tone firm. He turns to the man. “Mr. Yang, please step aside so we can sort this out.”

Jungkook appears just then, his gaze scanning the scene with confusion. “What the hell happened here?”

“Jungkook.” you sigh at the sight of him, getting a second rush of relief upon seeing both him and Namjoon here.

Jungkook steps closer to you, looks at your state, and instinctively hovers an arm around your waist, concern growing on his face. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you say quickly, glancing at Jimin. “But he’s not.”

“Jimin got into a fight,” Namjoon explains, his voice tight. “I’m taking him to the hospital. Can you handle this?”

Jimin groans in Namjoon’s arms. “Oh my god, Joon, I’m literally fine—” Jimin rolls his eyes when his boyfriend only looks at him with a deepened frown. 

Namjoon looks at Jungkook again. “Can you take care of this for me, Kook? I’ll drive both of us to a hospital nearby. __, I’ll take Jimin there first before driving you home. Is that okay?” 

Although not unusual, your eyes widen at the offer. You quickly shake your head to decline. 

“Oh, no. It’s fine. I’ll grab a taxi or something… just please take Jimin to the hospital first.” 

“Don’t be silly, it’s dangerous–” Before Jimin could say the words, Jungkook speaks.

“I’ll take her,” All three of you look at him and he doesn’t even faze. “I took my car and I didn’t drink tonight so I’m okay to drive. __, just tell me your address.” 

Your head shakes vehemently. You’ve already been a big nuisance thanks to that asshole back there who’s talking with security.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I really don’t want to bother–” 

“It’s not safe for you to be alone right now, __,” he says with a frown, and he sounds so sincere that it makes you bite your lip to prevent saying any protest again. He does have a point. “Joon, you can go. We’ll talk it out with security in the meantime.” 

“Alright, thanks, man.” Namjoon pats his shoulder. “Take care of her, okay? She drank a lot.” He informs Jungkook who just nods. And then off they go after Namjoon talked for a while with the other security.

You want to face-palm yourself. 

Soon, a man in uniform approaches you and Jungkook. As if in reflex, Jungkook steps closer to you. 

“Mr. Yang said you said some – what he called, “abusive language” – to him, Miss. Is that true?” 

Your eyebrows crease in confusion as you look at “Mr. Yang” in disbelief. 

“No, I didn’t. He was the one who started calling me names and swung at my friend first.” You defend, upset.

The security just looks over at you impassively with an almost monotonous voice, as if talking to you is a nuisance and taking too much of his time. “He said your friend threw the first punch. Mr. Yang is a valued customer—” 

“I’m sorry, but aren’t I and my friend customers too? We–”

“There’s no going around it, miss. Your friend started a fight and you initiated a commotion which is prohibited in this place, especially in the VIP area. Mr. Yang is currently talking to his lawyers to press charges against you and your friend.” 

Press what now?

“Press charges?” Jungkook can’t help but butt in. He changes his stance beside you and you see exactly how the security backs off a little, the boredom on his face while talking to you seconds ago slipping when Jungkook continues to say, “Did you hear what she said? Mr. Yang started the fight with verbal intimidation and made it physical. The other guy, her friend, just retaliated. How are you purposefully glossing over that detail?”

“Sir, Mr. Yang just told the story–” 

“You mean his side of the story. Aren’t you supposed to ensure everyone’s safety here? Or does being a valued customer excuse harassment and violence?”

The security completely falters under Jungkook’s stare and words.

And you grow livid. 

“Excuse me, sir,” You start, stepping out to get closer to him. You keep your voice leveled when you speak further, “I’m gonna tell you this more time. He, Mr. Yan or whatever his name is, started the whole thing. He bumped into me hard and I have the shoulder pain to prove you that. I said sorry, even though he should’ve said it too, but then he didn’t and started to cuss me out instead and called me names . My friend stepped in because he was trying to intimidate me physically and verbally. He threw the first punch, and my friend just retaliated,” you said with conviction, not shaking even once. When the security opens his mouth to say something, you beat him to it. “And tell your valued customer that if he wants to press charges, I’ll be speaking to my lawyer, too. And I’ll be filing a complaint against this establishment for failing to handle the situation appropriately.”

You don’t look back as you turn on your heel and head straight to your table. Jungkook’s footsteps follow closely behind, and you hear him call your name, but you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you grab your purse and head toward the stairs leading to the ground floor, your mind set on leaving.

It’s been a long time since you felt so blatantly underestimated by a man. It happens at work occasionally, but having a woman supervisor helps that situation a bit. Still, though, you can’t help but be bitter whenever it happens. No matter how vocal you are, no matter how often you advocate for yourself, there’s a grim inevitability to it. They’ll still see you as less, as though your words carry less weight, your stance holds less power.

The thought burns at you, frustration rising like a heat wave under your skin, and there’s a dull sense of helplessness that settles heavily in your chest.

“__, hey. Stop walking so fast.” You hear Jungkook say behind you but despite his words, he still manages to catch up. 

“You can go, Jungkook. I’m calling a taxi.” You say, voice leveled. You know it’s irrational but you can’t get out of your head the image of the security backing off when Jungkook began speaking to him. As if his opinion matters more than yours. The anger is misplaced, you know, but you just need a little bit of space. 

“I told Jimin I’ll take you home, so I’ll take you home.” Jungkook insists and his voice is firm as well, but there’s softness around the edges. You feel it in the way he gently takes ahold of your wrist to halt you from walking. At this point, you’re already outside the establishment. 

“I don’t want your help.” 

He physically recoils, and you feel instantly bad just right after you say it.

Okay, maybe that was too much of an overreaction. 

Still, though, while Jungkook lets go of your hand, he doesn’t relent. 

“I’m not trying to be insistent for no reason, __. I want to take you home because you’re drunk and I don’t know if you’re safe especially when a guy just harassed you back there.” 

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you turn your gaze away, feeling the telltale tremble in your body that comes right before tears. Your eyes sting faintly at the corners, but you force a sharp, steady breath into your lungs. As much as it stings to admit it, Jungkook has a point.

You’re surprised you’ve managed this far with your mind clouded by too much tequila. And while you keep telling yourself you’re not afraid of that jerk back there, the thought of walking out alone at this hour leaves a knot of unease in your chest.

Turning on your heel, you avoid Jungkook’s eyes when you look at his general direction and say, “Okay.” 

“Okay,” he repeats, gauging your face. “My car is right there.” He says, pointing toward the opposite direction. 

The walk to the parking lot is quiet and tense, so to speak. You avoid walking beside Jungkook and he may have understood that you want space in the meantime, as he lets himself walk ahead of you, only looking back occasionally to check if you’re still following. 

When you get inside the car, Jungkook begins the engine as soon as you both settle yourselves in your seats.

“I’m sorry.” He suddenly says in the middle of the road. 

You look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “For what?” 

“I’m just sorry.” 

You let out a sigh.

He’s just trying to be there for you, for some reason. He doesn’t need to, but somehow he does.

You look away, fixing your gaze at the scene on the window pane. “I’m just… I just feel angry. That asshole was calling me all sorts of uninspired, misogynistic names and even pushed me twice. And then the security came to me with that bored expression and impassive tone telling me all about that guy pressing charges, not even bothering to hear me out, completely negating me, then you stepped in and suddenly he’s scared? Apparently, your words matter more than mine, and all because I don’t have a fucking penis. How fucking stupid,” You say in one breathing frustration reeking. You take a sharp breath again and massage your temple. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean– it’s not your fault, Jungkook. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I’m… being mean and taking everything out on you. I just… the whole thing was just really fucked up and men irritate me.” 

Jungkook glances at you and back at the road again. “I… understand. I’m still sorry for stepping in. I didn’t mean for it to look like I was… doing things for you. I was just really surprised when he said the guy is pressing charges.” 

You throw your head back on the seat. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t… think you were trying to be a hero or anything. It’s just really annoying when men only listen to men. It’s fucked up.” 

He hums. “Do you wanna press charges? You can also file a lawsuit. You could.”

“A lawsuit? We’re gonna end up in civil court and I’m most probably going to lose. When I said earlier I’m talking to my lawyers, that means all the law students I barely know of in my department,” you think that was funny, but Jungkook just looks at you for awhile with furrowed brows.

Okay, well, no that was not really funny. It was quite depressing.

“If you want, and I don’t want you to take this the wrong way– I can help you with it. Get you a lawyer or something. He also assaulted Jimin, so you definitely have a case.” Jungkook says as if he’s offering you some street food along a store you passed by randomly. You notice the caution in his voice though, the way he worded his suggestion, completely putting it out as if it’s up to your choice. 

You appreciate that. You don’t like it when people step in for you, fight your battles for you . You have a backbone of your own and you can defend yourself in most circumstances – and you believe Jungkook’s pure intentions of just… offering some kind of… genuine help. Because he’s your friend and you would do this to a friend as well.

It’s not charity, you tell yourself.   

“Thanks… I’ll tell you when… I want it.” You offer him a small smile. 

“You sure?” You nod your head. Jungkook doesn’t look like he’s entirely convinced, but he drops the subject anyway. “Alright.” 

The car ride was as quiet as it could be, and the stillness of dawn makes you think about the turn of events earlier. It wasn’t ideal, the way everything turned out. You don’t feel any ounce of remorse about what you said to that asshole because he deserved it for being a dick unprovoked, but too much alcohol clouded your judgment and you and Jimin could’ve acted… entirely differently in the situation.

As you rest your head on the window again, you feel a pang of regret. 

It’s always so… hard to deal with the consequences of your actions. There’s a part of you who wishes you didn’t throw more wood into the flame leading to the fight. Some part is guilty of bringing Jimin into a physical fight. Then, there’s embarrassment. 

You’re not a violent person and you try to stray away from violence overall if you can help it. While Jimin has always been protective over you especially when you go out at night for obvious reasons, you rarely get into physical fights. It didn’t help that Namjoon was there, too. As well as Jungkook. The two knew you both drank a lot, especially you. Jungkook was there beside you when you were flatly getting negated by the security, getting threatened by pressed charges for being unruly. 

It was embarrassing. And even more so when you snapped at him moments ago, despite him doing nothing wrong.

You feel like absolute shit. 

“Sorry you had to deal with… all of that.” You murmur, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Jungkook’s voice, laced with genuine confusion, cuts through your thoughts. “What?”

“For everything, I guess,” you continue, forcing a smile that feels off. “Bet you didn’t expect to drive a drunk woman home after she and her best friend got into a fight.” It sounds like a joke, but it’s a hollow one. Every moment with him tonight feels like you’ve just embarrassed yourself over and over.

You hadn’t realized how close you were to your complex until Jungkook suddenly stopped in the familiar parking lot. You’re about to unbuckle your seatbelt, but your head’s a little dizzy, and you fumble with it a little. Just as you start to move again, Jungkook speaks.

“I don’t mind doing anything for you, __. I hope you know that by now.”

The words stop you mid-motion, and you glance up at him, regretting it immediately. His gaze is intense, and no matter how much you will yourself to look away, you can’t. He lowers his eyes to your hands before leaning in slightly, unbuckling your seatbelt from your waist down with ease. His scent fills the air, making your breath catch in the briefest of moments. “Wait for me.”

You’re a little confused but stay still as Jungkook gets out of the car and walks around. When he opens the passenger door, he offers you his hand. “Can you walk just fine?

You don’t know how you manage to form an answer somehow. “I– yeah. Sure,” you stand up from your seat and get out of his car, but despite your words, you feel the gentle pressure of Jungkook’s hand on your lower back, guiding you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you mumble a soft, “Thanks.” 

He hums in response. 

The walk to your apartment isn’t long, but it felt like it dragged on forever with Jungkook so close by your side. The chilly air didn’t help either when you’re not exactly dressed for it. When a gust of strong wind blew, you felt yourself shiver, and Jungkook must have noticed because, without a second thought, his arm moved closer, closing the hairsbreadth gap of his skin and yours, now wrapping around your waist to shield you from the cold. 

You didn’t expect it, and neither did he. 

He makes a move to pull away, about to put distance between you, but when you glance at him, maybe with a hint of alarm or desperation, he seems to understand. Jungkook keeps his arm around you as you both continue walking.

Did your face scream “Please don’t take your hands off me” ? Because even now, as you’ve arrived at your apartment, taking the steps towards your apartment units, he still doesn’t let go.

Even when you reach your porch, his arm is still there, holding you close.

“We’re here,” you say to break the silence. You look up at him, and you spent the entirety of the last five minutes or so trying to avoid looking in his direction that you just now discovered he’s been sporting an easy-going look on his face, as if the whole thing is as… natural as it gets. “T-thanks for driving me home, Jungkook.”

He nods, “You’re welcome.” 

You take a step back, and just as the distance grows between you, you feel a strange hesitation, as though part of you doesn’t want the moment to end. Jungkook’s hand lingers for a second longer on your back, like he doesn’t want to let go either.

You give him a small, reluctant smile, and he returns it just as gently, looking so serene with his casual fit and his soft hair, hands now buried in the pockets of his jeans. His presence feels magnetic like neither of you is ready to say goodbye yet.

“Good night,” you say, giving a timid wave.

“Sweet dreams, __.” He smiles, and the sound of his chuckle makes your heart flutter. It’s so light, so easy – like everything feels right in this moment. Like everything that happened earlier was merely not part of reality. He makes you feel so… safe and warm. 

God, have you seriously deluded yourself into thinking you didn’t like this man in a very non-platonic way? 

You turn, about to reach for your keys, but then you hear his voice again, calling your name. You almost spin around too quickly, feeling a bit embarrassed by the sudden motion.

It’s like you were completely expecting him to just call you.

Your eyes meet his in a gentle stare, his voice soft and warm like honey when he asks, “Can I come inside?”

Jungkook asks, letting the words slip out before he can second-guess them. He’s been bothered since the car ride – by the way your jaw flexed, the way your fingers kept pressing into your shoulder like it ached. You never said anything, of course. You wouldn’t. 

Of course you wouldn’t. Jungkook knows by now that you don’t particularly like it when you’re being… doted on.

But still. It’s late – around 3 a.m. and creeping into morning – and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep knowing you’re the least bit comfortable.

He just wants to know if you’re okay.

You open your mouth to speak, but then suddenly, a clink echoes in the quiet of the dawn over the complex.

“Wha– aw!” You wince as your keys slip through your fingers, landing directly on your foot with a dull thud.

“Hey,” Jungkook automatically sinks down on one knee to pick up the keys, arm shooting right up around your waist to keep you grounded when he saw you were about to trip. His brows knit together as he looks up at you, wincing in discomfort. “You okay?” 

You lift your foot slightly, balancing yourself against his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine— just buzzed. Sorry,” you mumble, but the words slur together. Jungkook had noticed you’d been drinking way before he arrived at the club, but now he realizes just how hard you’d been fighting off the dizziness. “I need to get out of these shoes.”

Jungkook stands back up on his feet, handing you the keys. He stays close, keeping his arm around you, hovering just enough to catch you if you fall out of balance again. 

He watches as you try to unlock the door, but your fingers fumble over the keys, switching between them absentmindedly. With each failed attempt, your frustration grows, your huffs becoming more pronounced. Jungkook waits patiently, standing beside you, until he hears it—

A sob. 

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles. “I–I can’t find my keys,” you try to get the words out in between your silent cry, and Jungkook is so surprised to see the tears dropping down your cheeks that he doesn’t fully process the whole thing together. “And— and my jaw and my shoulder and my toes hurt. And I’m drunk. I don’t know. I’m really—” you’re interrupted by another snob, so you quickly wipe away at your eyes, turning away from Jungkook. “I’m really drunk.” 

Jungkook gently calls your name, and he doesn’t know what comes over him. It almost felt like reflex when he reached for your face, cupping your cheeks; your tears wetting the palm of his hands. Jungkook catches them with his thumbs before more of them even fall, your skin warm beneath his touch. When you look up at him, your glassy eyes reflect the soft glow of the streetlights, and you look so heartbreakingly sad that Jungkook feels an almost physical pain to his gut. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “Let’s get you inside, yeah? I’ll take care of the rest. Do you want me to do it for you?” He doesn’t expect it, but you nod your head, quietly sniffing when Jungkook continues to wipe your tears with his thumbs, soothing you in the best possible way he knows he can. 

You hand him the keys, and his fingers linger against your cheek just a second longer before he turns to the door, finding the right key with ease. He doesn’t say anything about your tears, doesn’t press you to explain. You wouldn’t want to tell him things right now, not when you’re obviously feeling quite… vulnerable. He doesn’t know if it’s just all your mixed up feelings dwindling down into sadness – because you did go through a lot tonight. 

Jungkook has never seen you cry before, but when he saw the tears falling from your eyes, it left a dull ache that settled deep within his chest. You’re always so full of life, so quick to smile, to joke, to fill the space around you with something bright and wonderful. Seeing you like this, shaken and unguarded, stirs something deep in him. Something instinctive.

So he knows by now you don’t like getting taken care of, in a way, but Jungkook lets himself act on the want  and need to do it, anyway. Even if you pull back away from him again the next day. At least he gets to be sure you’re okay. 

He unlocks the door and looks back at you.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” Your voice is steadier now, in Jungkook’s relief, but your tear-streaked cheeks still twist something inside him.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook says softly and keeps a careful arm around your waist when you push open the door, seeing that you’re still walking a little wobbly. He watches you closely, especially your shoulders and face. “Your body still hurts?”

You give him a small, tired smile. “Uhm, I think it’ll go away soon. But I need to ice my jaw.”

When you cross over the threshold, you pause, hesitating.

Jungkook was just about to ask you if you really want to let him in because you didn’t explicitly say he could – but when you turn back to look at him, your eyes are clouded with worry. “Please don’t judge me if my place is messy and if I pass out because again, I’m really drunk. It’s not super obvious right now but I already cried in front of you for no particular reason and I’m embarrassed about that so if you want to, you can totally just leave and I won’t bother you ever again. I’m sorry that you had to do all this. This all seems like a huge bother and I’m taking so much of your time—”

Jungkook blinks.

“__.” 

The way you jumped from one thing to another, the way your eyes darted everywhere but his – it’s a dead giveaway. Drunk you is a whole rollercoaster, and Jungkook doesn’t even try to fight the small, exasperated smile tugging at his lips.

God, he just… he just wants to hold you through it all.

“It’s okay,” his voice is warm. “Don’t be sorry, hm?” 

You bite your lip and it takes you a while to respond before you say, “... Okay.” 

The living room welcomes you both and Jungkook takes a quick look, smiling at the sight.

“You have a nice place.” 

“I know,” your voice is thick with the remnants of the night, your steps slightly uneven as you move towards the couch. “It was even nicer before, but they had to repair it a week ago because of the…” you trail off, distracted, your fingers fumbling with the strap of your heel as you settle down.  

Jungkook nods understandingly, quietly watching. He sees you maneuvering your legs to better see your shoes, and the action makes your skirt ride up, catching his attention for a split second. He decides to redirect his focus. 

“You have ice?”

“Freezer,” You murmur, lips pressed into a thin line and brows furrowed in frustration. You let out a small hiss when the strap doesn’t successfully come off your ankle. Jungkook can tell you’re distracted, even when you add, “Oh, you don’t have to ice me, by the way, I can just—” 

Before you can finish, Jungkook walks over to your direction. In one swift motion, he kneels before you, his hands effortlessly replacing yours. His fingers are warm as they brush against your ankle, and he feels your breath hitching when he unfastens the strap and slides your heels off.

“What did I say, __?” He keeps his voice quiet and firm, “I don’t mind doing things for you.” He gently sets both your feet down then places your shoes next to it neatly. “I know you don’t need my help. But just this one night, okay? Can you let me do that for you?”

The weight of his sincerity presses against your chest, rendering you momentarily speechless. His eyes hold something deep, something unspoken, something that makes warmth bloom low in your stomach.

You blink at him. 

“Oh. Uh… okay.” you breathe, looking up at him slowly as he rises to his feet. “Sorry.”

It sounds sheepish and Jungkook feels the sudden urge to… he doesn’t even know now. He’s never been in the position of feeling so many different things all at once. He felt a little piece of his heart get shattered when he saw you cry earlier but now it’s warm again at the sight of you so… soft. And kind of small. 

Jungkook exhales softly, the corner of his lips quirking as his palm finds your cheek. It was maybe some sort of self-indulgence when he leans down and strokes your skin, thumb tracing delicate circles. He watches as your lashes flutter under his touch. “No saying sorry. Let me take care of you.”

He lets go of you, a slight feeling of disappointment washing through him when he had to break away from the physical contact, but your body hurts and he wants to help soothe it a little bit. 

Moving toward the kitchen, he doesn’t take too long going through your freezer and returns back shortly with an ice bag and a glass of water in hand. He offers the latter first, waiting patiently as you drink before settling beside you on the couch.

“Where does it hurt?” Jungkook asks. You move a little to the side to give him room, and he doesn’t really think too much about it when he drapes his free arm around the backrest of the couch, unconsciously crowding you in.

“H-here.” You tilt your face slightly, pointing to the right side of your jaw. Jungkook hums in acknowledgment before pressing the ice against your skin with meticulous care. You flinch at the initial cold, and he murmurs a soft apology, adjusting his touch until the chill soothes rather than shocks.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

The silence between you lingers, but it isn’t awkward – it’s something softer, something unspoken that settles comfortably between you both. And it gives Jungkook the perfect excuse to take you in wholly.

From this proximity, every delicate feature of yours demands his attention. The way your long lashes flutter under the glow of the fluorescent light, casting faint shadows against your flushed cheeks. He notices the subtle scatter of glitter on your skin, remnants of your makeup catching the light just right, making you look like you’re glowing – no, like you’re shining. Ethereal.

Then, his gaze traces the gentle slope of your nose, following its path down to the perfect dip of your cupid’s bow – sharp, delicate, almost frustratingly beautiful. And then, of course, there’s your mouth. Jungkook has always been drawn to it. The soft, glossy curve of your lips, the way they pout ever so slightly even when you aren’t speaking. They look inviting, almost begging to be kissed, and for a brief, reckless second, he wonders what it would be like to be the one to answer that silent call.

God, you’re so pretty. It almost hurts.

Jungkook swallows hard. He shouldn’t be thinking about that. Not now.

“Jimin tells me I’m either an annoying or quiet drunk,” you suddenly say, snapping Jungkook out of his trance. “I think I’m being a little bit of both tonight.” 

He finds himself chuckling at your words. “I’m alright with both.” 

You let out a quiet huff, and he readjusts the ice, noticing the slight tension in your shoulders.

“Your shoulder still hurts?” Jungkook asks, his fingers hovering just above your bare skin.

You nod, and when he gestures to the ice bag, you take it without hesitation, pressing it back to your jaw. There's a quiet curiosity in your eyes as you glance at him, but you don’t say anything. Jungkook shifts beside you, sitting more upright.

“Lean in for me,” you scoot closer. Jungkook guides you against him, settling you between his arms. You’re unusually quiet, pliant in a way that makes something stir in his chest. “This okay?” he murmurs into your hair, trying – failing – not to focus on the warmth of you against him, or the way your scent lingers in the air between you.

You hum in response, a soft, content sound.

Jungkook smiles against your head.

”Let me know if this hurts or not, alright?” You nod against him, and Jungkook lets his fingers trace over the curve of your shoulder, searching for the tension. The neckline of your top makes it easy for his hand to settle against your skin. “Here?” he murmurs, pressing gently.

The soft gasp you let out catches him off guard. It’s barely a sound, but he feels it – feels the way your body reacts beneath his touch. His breath hitches for just a second before he swallows, grounding himself.

“There,” You sigh softly. Jungkook watches as you close your eyes, indulging in the feeling of him hitting the right spot. 

He watches, almost entranced, as your face softens with relief.

Massaging sore muscles is nothing new to him – he’s done it for himself countless times after boxing, approaching it with the same methodical precision every time. But this? This feels different. The quiet sounds you make, the way you lean into his touch, like it’s the most natural thing in the world – he has a feeling they’ll linger in his mind far longer than they should.

He steadies his voice. “No swelling or bruising, so that’s good,” he murmurs, fingers working over your shoulder, relieved to find that himself.

You may not have wanted his help tonight, but Jungkook can’t shake the thought that the stranger at the bar deserves consequences. Maybe he should talk to Jimin about it.

He files the thought away – until your voice pulls him back.

“Where’d you learn this?” you ask, your tone lighter now. “It feels good. And I think you’re actually making me feel better.”

Then you grin at him – soft, a little dazed – and Jungkook just melts.

How you always get him to feel twenty emotions at once. 

“I box sometimes. My trainer taught me this.” Jungkook tells you, something he realized he hasn’t shared with you yet. Which he loves doing. 

“Oh. You box?” You inquire, craning your neck to look at him with curious eyes. 

Jungkook smiles down at you and nods. “Sometimes. It’s just a little hobby I picked up a while ago.” 

“Ohhh. That’s really cool.” Then you yawn, shifting even closer. “I envy people like you. I ran a 5k once and couldn’t move for two days.”

“I like moving,” Jungkook responds truthfully. Absent-mindedly, he also lets himself fall back on the couch until you’re both very lax against the sofa. “I sit a lot with my job. So I feel the need to balance it out.”

“I guess that makes—” It’s drowned with another yawn. Jungkook looks down at you as you curl up against him. “Sorry.” You smile at him, prompting Jungkook to chuckle before taking the ice bag from your hand. His hand travels from your shoulder to your waist as he stretches his other hand out to place the bag on the coffee table across from you.

“You’re sleepy.” 

“I’m so drunk.” 

“You’re a sleepy drunk,” Jungkook grins when you don’t argue. “Your shoulder okay now?” 

You jut your bottom lip out. “I think you need to massage it a little bit more…” 

Jungkook takes note of the playful tone lacing your words, finding himself chuckling at the thought of you just liking the massage. He doesn’t really mind.

“Alright. But don’t sleep on me just yet.” Jungkook says, resuming his rubbing on your shoulder joint. He knows that soon, you have to change out of your clothes, remove your make-up, whatever women do before going to bed. 

“I know…” you trail off.

As minutes pass, Jungkook forgets all about the massage, his hands alternating between gentle caresses and light squeezes over your shoulder. His touch grows slower, more absentminded, and at some point, he realizes the weight against his chest has shifted— you’ve fallen asleep on him.

He stills for a moment, absorbing the warmth of you pressed against him. It’s… nice. More than nice. A quiet contentment settles over him as he carefully brushes his fingers through your hair. When a few strands fall across your face, he instinctively tucks them away, only for you to stir slightly at the movement. Jungkook freezes, but instead of waking, you burrow deeper into him, your face pressing against his chest, your breath warm through the fabric of his shirt.

A small smile tugs at his lips. He takes a moment just to look at you – your peaceful expression, the way your lips part slightly in sleep, the soft rise and fall of your breathing. You’re not new to falling asleep on him; it happened just last week at his place. And just like then, he thinks you look impossibly adorable. Mostly pretty. Even prettier now. He isn’t sure how that’s possible, but somehow, you make it look effortless.

Jungkook exhales, shaking his head lightly. You have no idea, do you?

He lingers a second longer before deciding he should move you somewhere more comfortable. He doubts you’d want to wake up on the couch, still in your clothes from the club, make-up untouched. You didn’t exactly give him permission to enter your bedroom, but he figures you’d prefer that over being left out here without a blanket.

Carefully, he lifts you into his arms, cradling you effortlessly as he navigates your apartment. The layout is similar to his, but everything feels distinctly you – cozy, warm, lived-in. He nudges your bedroom door open with his foot, relieved to find it unlocked, and gently lays you down on the soft mattress. He debates for a second whether he should help you change into something more comfortable but quickly dismisses the thought. Boundaries.

Instead, he simply pulls the green comforter over you, tucking you in with quiet care. He’s just about to step back when you shift slightly, a small murmur escaping your lips.

“Kook?”

Your voice is faint, laced with sleep, and Jungkook immediately moves closer, sitting at the edge of your bed. He doesn’t expect it when your hand reaches out, fingers grazing his cheek before resting there, your touch warm and featherlight.

“Are you real?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, dazed and dreamy.

Jungkook’s heart stumbles. He swallows, then gently takes your hand in his, pressing it against his skin. “I am.”

You hum in satisfaction. “Good.” Then, in a move that completely disarms him, you squeeze his jaw slightly, fingertips lingering in something almost like admiration. Your gaze, still hazy with sleep, flickers over his features before you breathe, awed, “You’re so pretty… how?”

Jungkook exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head at your sleepy honesty. Because this isn’t the first time. You’d said the same thing that night at his place, too.

Does that mean you really think so? Or is it just a drunken habit of yours?

But none of that really matters when he finds himself murmuring, with quiet certainty, “You don’t know how it feels looking at you, __.”

There’s no response, and when Jungkook glances down, he realizes you’ve already drifted back into sleep. He stays there just a moment longer, taking in the peaceful sight of you, the way the dim light makes your features look even softer.

You look like a dream. And Jungkook isn’t sure if he ever wants to wake up from this.

There’s a thundering ache in your head when you start gaining consciousness after you wake up, eyes squinting at the light coming through the windows. 

You pat around for your phone and turn it on when you find it somewhere nestled between the tangled sheets, seeing Jimin’s texts on the lockscreen. 

cuntress #1 [8:00am]: did u get home safe cuntress #1 [8:05am]: i got discharged from the hospital btw joon was just being dramatic i only got cuts  cuntress #1 [3:10pm]: i trust that jungkook drove u home well and alive but if u dont respond in the next 30mins i’ll send a raid team

“Jesus,” you said after reading Jimin’s last text. You glance at the time and see it’s 3:20pm. “Fuck.” Slapping a hand on your forehead, you realize just how much you slept. 

Before agonizing over that, you reply to Jimin first before he actually sends a raid team. You don’t ever know when he’s serious.

You [3:21pm]: dont send a raid team what the fuck

You open the camera app to snap a picture of yourself, but you nearly doubled over when you saw your reflection. That’s why your face felt so sticky, because you still have your make-up and clothes on from last night. 

You groan but take a quick picture to send Jimin anyway. 

Throwing away your phone on the mattress, you throw your feet over the floor to initially go straight to the bathroom, but then your eyes catch sight of the glass of water with a pill of Advil beside it. 

Oh. 

Ohhh. Right. Jungkook was here last night… he asked if he could come inside your apartment and you must’ve said yes because you can remember him sitting on your couch, icing your jaw, then massaging your pained shoulder for a little while before… 

That’s when your memory doesn’t serve you well. 

You don’t know how you got into this bed at all. 

You take the glass of water and Advil, anyway, popping the pill into your mouth and drinking. You were just standing up when your doorbell rings. 

Confused, you wonder who it might be. You aren’t expecting any visitors, that’s for sure. But then you remember Jimin’s words and suddenly grow nervous that he might have actually had a raid team come your way. Whatever the hell that meant.

As you step in front of your door, you hesitantly twist it open, only to be met with none other than… Jungkook. 

“Thank god,” you let out a sigh of relief. Jungkook raises a brow, rightfully confused. You give him a dismissive wave. “I thought you were Jimin’s raid team.” 

“A what?” Jungkook asks, obviously baffled. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you say as you take a look at him. He’s in his white button down minus the tie and trousers. It’s funny though because he’s wearing his sliders… so you assume he probably just got back home from the office. It’s only then that you notice the pot in between his hands. “What’s that?” 

Jungkook glances down. “Porridge. Thought it’d help with the hangover.” 

Your eyes widen at the mention.

“Oh, that’s really thoughtful. You didn’t have to…” you trail off but Jungkook only smiles and extends it to you.

When you take it in your hands, Jungkook says, “It’s still hot, so be careful.” 

What you wanted to ask was if he cooked it himself – which looked like he did, but what came out was: “You just, uh, got back from the office?”

He nods.

Then, you stand there for awhile, finding yourself a little awkward just waiting for the other to say something until you both speak at the same time. 

“I’ll get going, then—”

“Do you want to come in—”

You both stop speaking, looking at each other in surprise until Jungkook chuckles. 

“You were saying?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I asked if you wanted to come inside but you must be busy. Thank you for the porridge, though. I really appreciate it.” 

“I’m not doing a lot today,” Jungkook says with a dashing smile, inserting his hands in his pockets. “Are you inviting me over?” He adds with a teasing lilt to his voice.

You shy from his gaze. “If you want to… we can share?” You raise the pot in your hands, giving him a timid smile. 

“I’d love to.” 

Basically, it’s the second time Jungkook will be inside your home. But you weren’t completely sober a few hours ago when he did it for the first time, so technically, it did not count. Now that you’re free from the daze of alcohol, though, with a raging hangover as a testament to that, you’re nervous as you lead Jungkook along the way.

“You woke up just now?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah…” You place the pot on the dining table and realize for the second time you’re still wearing the clothes from last night, probably looking like a mess right now. You’re thankful Jungkook doesn't mention it. You saw your smudged makeup earlier while taking a picture for Jimin, and you definitely don’t look your best. “Sorry, I just need to change out of these clothes first. Please sit here.” You gesture toward the chair you pulled out, which Jungkook gladly came towards. When he sits, you offer him a small smile before heading to your bedroom.

In swift motion, you strip yourself off the skimpy outfit you’ve been in since the last twelve hours or so, hastily removing your make-up with a quick wipe and rinse, pulling your hair in the neatest ponytail you can manage and finally change into the first decent shirt you find in your closet and paired it with some denim shorts.

When you return to the dining area, you see Jungkook setting down some bowls on the table. You head toward him, about to express your thanks, but he turns around and, with a slightly surprised tone, says, “You’re wearing my shirt.”

It doesn’t sound accusatory, in fact, Jungkook is smiling at you, eliciting a warm feeling within your chest. 

His words don’t register as quickly as they should have, but when you glance over at the shirt you’re wearing, it’s indeed his. It occurs to you it was the shirt he lent you awhile ago when you stayed over at his place. It must’ve ended in your bag when you were packing up for your return to your own place.

Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment sets in. You remember saying you’d return it ASAP, but here you are, casually wearing it at home. “Oh, I'm sorry. I didn’t even notice— I'll go change—”

“It’s fine, __. You can keep it, or not, if you don’t want to,” Jungkook muses. “You don’t have to change out of it.” 

His casual response only makes you feel more flustered under his gaze.

“... Thanks,” you manage to say. After a pregnant pause, you clear your throat and gesture at the food on the table. “Should we eat? Or… I mean, do you even want to eat right now? I know it’s only, like, three pm…”

“I didn’t eat for lunch, so this will do. I make a really good hangover porridge.” Jungkook says with a chuckle. 

“I can’t thank you enough.” 

Jungkook hums softly, and a comfortable silence settles between you as the sound of your spoons clinking against the glassware fills the air. After your first bite, you can't help but compliment him on the porridge – it’s definitely the best hangover cure you’ve ever had. You can't help but think that he's just good at everything, like always.

It’s as if he doesn’t not know how to do something. You almost fear he's getting close to being perfect, and what’s even more surprising is that he does all of this for you without you ever having to ask. And when you mention it, he acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

And that kind of freaks you out.

But, at the same time, it also makes you feel guilty.

“I’m really sorry about last night…” you start. You don’t remember every detail, of course, but you can vaguely remember the fight that broke out and how Namjoon had to interfere with the security. And because you were drunk, Jungkook had to drive you home and take you inside your own home because you probably were so wasted. It’s not your proudest moment, and the apology is something from your heart when you continue, “Jimin and I pregamed at his place before we went to the club, so even before you came to our table we were already drunk off tequila that time. Not a good reason, of course. So I’m really sorry for causing you a lot of… inconvenience— anyway, did I uh— say or did something last night?” you turn meek under his gaze, nerves wracking. Jungkook’s brow shoots up, and when he doesn’t instantly say no, you sigh. “Oh my god, I did.” 

“No, you didn’t,” Jungkook quickly denies, interrupting the impending spiraling thoughts in your head. The only vivid pictures in your head right now were the events in the club, even the moment when Jungkook drove you home is blurry, and you could only tie fragments together poorly. ���Don’t worry about it. You were drunk and you fell asleep on me when I helped you with your shoulders. I brought you to your bedroom.” 

You stare at him, trying to see if he’s purposefully missing out on some detail. But Jungkook’s expression is as neutral as it gets, just looks at you like how he usually does. Soft, fond. Something like that. You can’t even pinpoint it. 

“Well, I’m still sorry anyway,” you let out a heavy breath. “Jimin tells me I’m a super annoying drunk and he’s right and he should’ve really stopped you from volunteering to take me back home.” 

“You really like saying sorry, don’t you?” Jungkook teases, but there’s something to his tone that says he’s being half-serious. “I really don’t mind. I wanted to take you home, and we’re neighbors, anyway.” He shrugs. 

You nod your head. “Why… I don’t remember much about last night but why did you lie back there? To Jimin? When you said you’re still staying at Hannam.” 

Jungkook halts from eating and silence stretches out until he says, “I had a feeling you wanted me to.” 

You purse your lips. “I can’t even say I didn’t because I really did want you to,” you sigh again. There were so many things you did last night that you kind of regret now. It’s really just endless favors from Jungkook now, huh? You hate feeling… indebted. And you hate that you feel like you’re bothering him so much. “Things got so hectic and I didn’t have time to tell him about, uh, how we know each other and all that and I… I still haven’t told him, you see.”

“You know,” Jungkook starts, and you adjust yourself on your seat because he sounds serious this time, not like the usual easy-going, lighthearted tone he always uses with you. “I’m okay with whatever you wanna do. It’s your call. But I’m not sure why you’re trying to hide it from him. I don’t think he’s going to care that much that we already knew each other even way before he introduced us.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat. 

The thing is, you know Jimin is not gonna care – you know that well. But Jungkook also doesn’t know that you already told Jimin about him the very first day you met him. Jungkook doesn’t know that you told Jimin about this crush that you have on this new neighbor. And you’re not ready to tell Jimin that guy – the neighbor, unit 446, was actually his cousin. 

Maybe you’re overcomplicating things too much, but you’ve always been afraid of confrontation unless you have a solid, fool-proof plan backing you up. You’re gonna tell Jimin eventually, just not now. But…

“I feel bad about it. Sorry– if you wanna tell him, you can—”

“Hey, I’m not doing anything you don’t want me to do.” Jungkook cuts you off, looking at you sincerely.

You frown. He’s way too nice.

“You’re so…” you trail off, realizing that you don’t really know what to follow it up with. Jungkook is so… nothing. Blank. You come up with a blank. And not because you feel that way about him – it’s mostly because there’s so many things to describe him with. 

And all you can think of is that you have the urge to come up to him and wrap your arms around him and thank him for being this patient even though you don’t feel like you deserve it. 

Jungkook leans in, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I’m so what?” 

It’s just going to be a friendly hug. You think to yourself. Yep. Just a friendly hug and nothing more. Friends can hug, right? Like, no malice whatsoever. Jungkook is not gonna think you’re trying to make a move on him; it’ll just be you expressing your gratitude. 

So you go for it, throwing your inhibitions away.

Who even cares at this point.

“Can I hug you?” you blurt out, nervously staring at Jungkook, feeling your cheeks heat up at the way he’s looking at you right now.

His smile widens, and you don’t fully expect it when he responds with a simple, “Yes.” 

You stand up from your seat and round the table to go over Jungkook who pulls himself back and stands, arms opening up to welcome you when you unceremoniously wrap your own around his waist. 

“Sorry,” you say when you bump roughly against him, but Jungkook only chuckles, and you feel the vibration through his chest when he does. His arms circle around your shoulders, making you snuggle against his chest. Probably self-indulgence at this point because his chest is so… big and warm and he smells good and he’s actually letting you hug him so… why not? “This is nice.” you say after awhile.

Truthfully, you initially planned the hug to be just a quick one, but it feels way too tight to let go. And you really don’t want to break away… and by the way Jungkook doesn’t say anything against it, you assume he’s just as into this as you. Probably. 

“I know.” 

You hide your smile against the fabric of his dress shirt. 

And somehow, you stay like that for longer than what… thirty seconds? Just hugging in the middle of your dining table without saying anything. 

You tighten your arms around Jungkook, and you almost let out a sigh of relief when Jungkook begins caressing your back.

“You’re really small.” Jungkook says suddenly. 

“Can you not ruin this moment, please.” 

He chuckles, and you feel him resting his head against the crown of your head. 

And the moment suddenly feels way too familiar…

“Jungkook,”

“__,”

Jungkook chuckles against your hair, squeezing a little on your shoulder. 

“You first.” 

You shake your head. “No, you first.”

“Ladies first.” 

You frown, even though he can’t really see it. “Really?” you deadpan.

“Really.” 

The lightheartedness of the moment doesn’t really deter you from the sudden melancholy that washes over you.

Truthfully, you feel conflicted. You have been for a while now. You don’t know exactly what you feel about him, and Jungkook’s actions don’t help. Sometimes, it feels like you can’t breathe whenever he’s near because you’re so mesmerized, but there are also times – a lot of times in fact – that you feel like he’s your safe space. Like right now. It sounds deluded even in your head but you think his arms feel a little too… home-y. Like you belong right there. 

Then there’s the guilt of being this… way. You’re so confused you don’t even know what you’re doing at this point. You push and pull. He almost kissed you and you swerved just in time to make up some lame excuse about being sleepy. He took you home because you were drunk and brought you hangover porridge right after he got out of work because… because what? 

“Why?” you whisper, the sound barely there. Like you didn’t even mean to let it out. 

“What do you mean, why?”

You shut your eyes close. “Why do you… why do you do this?” 

The question feels weighted, and it is. You can’t see Jungkook, and maybe you’re thankful for that because there’s vulnerability in your uncertainty that you don’t want to show him. 

You feel him pulling up his chin from the crown of your head, and when he lets go of your shoulders, you only tighten your hold around him. Partly because if he breaks away from the hug, he’ll look at you and see you. 

“You do these… things. You’re so nice. And you’re so sweet. You take care of me as if–” you stop yourself. “I don’t know, Jungkook. You confuse me. Why? Why do you do this?”

“__, can—” Jungkook tries to let go again, eager to make you look at him. 

“No. Listen, it’s taking everything in me to be calm right now. I’m embarrassed and I don’t want you to see my face.” 

You hear Jungkook letting out a sigh. 

“Why do you think so?” He says after awhile, finally setting his arms around you again. But this time, the other one is around your waist, and you try to not think too much about how he’s gently rubbing your waist right now.

You really don’t like the fact that you like it too much when he does that. Even hate it more that he himself seems to like doing that. 

“I can think of a few reasons.” you tell him.

“What are those?” 

Thank god you’re having this conversation without seeing each other’s faces. You’ll combust if it was the other way around.

“Well, maybe… you’re just inherently kind and you just like helping people.” You lamely say, and even you don’t believe that. 

Jungkook lets out a chuckle anyway, disbelief painting his voice when he responds, “You think I do this to everybody?” 

“I wouldn’t know.” 

“It’s nice you think of me like that. But no. I don’t do this to everybody, __. I don’t offer my place when someone’s apartment gets flooded, and I don’t cook them hangover porridge right after I get off work.”

You bite your lip. “Okay… then you’re just a really good friend, then.” 

Jungkook stops rubbing your waist. And you feel him freezing.

His tone is almost incredulous when he says. “You think it’s because you’re my friend.”

That makes you break away from the hug quickly. You take offense at the disbelief on his face, and you make sure to glare at him for that. 

“What do you mean by that? Are you being a snob when we’re literally hugging—”

“No, __, god—” Jungkook cuts you off. He grabs you closer again. Gentle. Putting his hands on your waist, he looks into your eyes with a deep sense of sincerity and eagerness. “You really think I do things like this to my friends?” 

You try to look away, but Jungkook’s hand travels from your waist to your cheek, making you look at him. You feel trapped, but there’s no feeling of suffocation from it. You like it, in fact.

“Well. Jimin would let me stay at his place whenever. Just not in his bedroom, though.” 

“Fair,” Jungkook says. His eyes cast their gaze down from your eyes to your lips. And you’ve been in this position before, but unlike last time, you don’t particularly feel like running away. “I’m glad you’re my friend. But I was thinking that… by now you must’ve realized I don’t only see you as that.” 

Maybe somewhere in your heart and mind, you expected that. Maybe you didn’t. Maybe you can still play dumb right now and tell him you don’t know what that means but for the record you’re not playing dumb, you are just this dumb and you don’t even mean that in a self-deprecating way. Just self-aware. 

But Jungkook’s words couldn’t be clearer. 

He likes you – is what he meant.

“Is it weird that we’ve only really known each other for a month… but I can already see the wheels turning in your head,” Jungkook muses when you don’t say anything. A small smile tugs at his lips, then, “You don’t have to say anything soon. If you’re not comfortable with this, I can stop. You just have to tell me.” 

You open your mouth. “I— I…”

But you find yourself drawing a blank.

“I like you, __, if it’s still not obvious.” Jungkook reiterates, more explicitly this time.  

Oh my god. 

You open and close your mouth like a fish in a tank, finding words to be unavailable in your head at the moment.

You feel Jungkook shift on his feet. “You can think about it. I’m not gonna push… but I’ll be here if you want me to.” 

“Jungkook.” You finally say his name, but it feels like the air has thickened around you.

Your fingers instinctively bunch the fabric of his collar, pulling him just a little closer. It’s not enough to throw him off, though; he remains steady, his gaze locked on yours, patient as always.

Always so patient. It makes your chest tighten.

“Yeah?”

The words are there, swirling inside you, desperate to break free. You know exactly what you want to say to his confession – you’ve imagined it, thought about it. It would be so easy, so fucking easy to say it. To tell him you feel the same way, to let him know you want this just as much. The words are right there on the tip of your tongue, practically begging to spill out.

But all that comes out is a soft, unsure, “Can you wait for me?”

It’s not what you wanted to say. It’s not enough. But it’s all you can manage.

Because even though it feels easy, even though you can almost taste the possibility of it, you know deep down that you’re not ready. Not for this. Not for the weight of it all – a relationship, a commitment you’re not sure will work. 

It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, nature pulling you in for a dive, the wind howling in your ears. You can feel the adrenaline, the rush, the pull to just jump. But you’re unprepared, no harness to catch you, no guarantees. You know that falling means you’ll crash. You’ll hurt.

“I will.”

Jungkook’s voice is calm, almost too calm, and he smiles at you. It’s gentle, the kind of smile that makes everything feel... safe. And for some reason, despite the fear swirling in your chest, you believe him.

You decide, against everything in you that’s scared shitless, to trust him. To trust that maybe, just maybe, he’ll be there when you’re ready just like he promised.

all right reserved © awrkive, 2025. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[aajjks]

Broke Boy, Fake Girlfriend (m)

synopsis. Your annoying roommate, Jungkook’s shameless fake dating act goes hilariously wrong when he thinks he can charm you into paying for his café splurge, but you turn the tables with some dangerously sweet flirtation.

pairings: jungkook x fem!reader.

genre: 18+, crack, roommate au.

warnings: 18+, fâkë dätïng tròpë, châôtïc flïrtïng, brókë bøy Jûngkook, tëâsïng, ëmbârrássïng mômënts, önë-sïdëd crùsh, pûblïc hümïlïâtïön, pówër shïft, hëâvy tënsïön, tëâsïng bântër, spïcy flïrtâtïön, crïngë mômënts, slöw bûrn.

note. I can’t thank you guys enough for so much love on the both parts so I thought maybe I should give you another one. Also, I found this GIF on Pinterest so credits to owner And Let’s just hope you guys would like this as well and tell me what do you think of the chaos and y’all can talk to him whenever you want. ENJOY.

“My girlfriend will pay for this.”

How do you always end up in this situation?

You blink.

You’re standing in line at a café, hands casually tucked in your pockets, minding your own business when those words hit you like a freight train.

Jungkook’s standing at the counter, a devilish grin plastered across his face, watching you with those damn puppy dog eyes. His tattooed hand casually gestures to you, like this whole scenario is as normal as breathing.

The barista, the one who’s been shamelessly flirting with him this entire time, looks back and forth between you two, her cheeks flushed pink.

“Oh—;” she giggles, voice breathy. “That’s so sweet of you.”

Sweet.

Sweet would be not dragging you into his latest ridiculous plan just because he’s broke again after spending all his money on gaming skins and who knows what else.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Yeah, my baby’s got me,” Jungkook hums, stretching lazily against the counter, his hoodie pulling up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of toned abs. Intentional. “She takes such good care of me.”

You swear you could hear the little pitter-patter of his fan club forming in the background.

‘My baby?’

You grit your teeth, gripping your wallet like it might suddenly escape your clutches. “You—;” you inhale, trying to remain calm. “I’m paying?”

“Obviously.” Jungkook doesn’t even hesitate.

God, he’s insufferable.

“Since when are we dating?”

Jungkook gasps.

Gasped.

He puts his hand on his heart, pretending to be hurt and makes a dramatic expression that makes you almost cringe.

“Babe. What do you mean?” His voice cracks with that exaggerated hurt, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

The barista giggles again, and you can see the sparkles in her eyes as she watches this whole ridiculous exchange.

Jungkook still has that pleading look, trying to play it off like you’re the one at fault for not realizing you were in the middle of his latest fake-dating fantasy.

You both know he’s out of cash and desperate.

He can’t possibly pay for this.

You should say no. You should do the right thing.

You should humiliate him right here in front of the cute barista and walk away, satisfied in your moral high ground.

But then—

“I’d get her anything off the menu,” Jungkook sighs, voice dropping an octave, his gaze lingering on your lips like he’s about to pull the most dramatic move of the century.

“She’s my princess. My world.”

Oh no.

Oh, he thinks you won’t play along.

And that—that little shit—that’s when you realize.

Jungkook’s not just doing the broke, flirting for sympathy… act. No, he’s flipping the script. He’s going full-on fake boyfriend mode.

He’s giving you those eyes, the ones that usually make girls melt on the spot.

His voice is suddenly, smooth and heavy, like he actually wants this to be real.

And then? The barista is still watching.

Oh, you know exactly what he’s doing.

You step closer, fingers lightly brushing against his chest as you lean in, your lips barely a whisper from his ear.

He freezes, clearly not prepared for the full-on flirtation storm that’s coming his way.

“Kookieee,” you say, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “Of course, I’m paying for my baby.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he makes this little sound—like he’s actually short-circuiting. He’s malfunctioning, visibly thrown off by how casually you’re playing along.

The barista is living for this. She’s practically sparkling now, too, and you know she’s ready to ship this fake couple straight to the moon.

But Jungkook? Jungkook’s dying.

He’s still standing there, mouth hanging slightly open, blinking rapidly like he needs to reset his brain, but you’re not done yet.

You lean in just a little bit more, hand still firmly placed against his chest, pressing your body close enough to feel the heat radiating from him.

His breathing gets heavier, a little shaky. And then you make your move.

You brush your fingers down his shirt, just enough to tease him, watching the way his whole body locks up, like he’s trying not to make a scene.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. He just stands there like the world’s hottest, most embarrassed mess.

“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re all flustered,” you murmur, leaning back slightly to get a good look at him, your fingers brushing his jaw.

His skin is so warm, so soft, and it’s making your whole body heat up.

Fuck, he’s cute.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to respond— he’s too busy replaying every single moment you’ve touched him in the last few seconds, and he’s mentally begging for you to finish the job.

He’s literally so embarrassing, but for the first time in your life, you had fun embarrassing him.

You take a step back, giving him just a little space. He’s still staring at you like you’ve just turned his life upside down.

Good. You’ve won.

“Let’s play, babe,” you say with a smirk, voice lighter now. He’s completely melting.

You swipe your card, taking your drinks.

You turn toward the door, but before you leave, you lean in one last time, brushing past him just close enough for your lips to graze his ear.

Oh, this is fun.

“You owe me, babe,” you whisper.

And with that, you leave him there, dazed, red-faced, and completely undone, just standing there like a mess in front of the barista, who is looking at him like she’s just witnessed an angel descend from heaven.

You walk out of the café like you’ve just done your civic duty in the most chaotic, teasing way possible. The power is all yours.

Victory. And Jungkook? Well, he’s got a lot to think about.

And a raging boner to take care of.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Wife and Mother To Be

Synopsis: While you and Joe are shopping for a friend's baby shower, he has a realization about his future with you.

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Requested by @hoodharlow 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Standing in the baby section of Target and holding up two different onesies to compare them, your phone started to vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans. Placing one of them across your arm, you pulled your phone out to answer it and was greeted by a frantic boyfriend.

“Baby! Where did you run off to this time? You said we were coming in here for toothpaste and face masks. Next thing I know, I turn around and my girlfriend is missing! Are you at Starbucks again?! You ALWAYS do this when we come in here.” You heard your boyfriend say as you picked up and didn't wait for a proper greeting.

“You were literally standing there for fifteen minutes comparing different ones so I walked away. I'm in the baby section looking at clothes. And no, I already went to Starbucks and my drink is gone so I'll need to make another stop before we leave.”

“No, no, and no. I am literally taking you to lunch so no more stops and wait a minute, why are you in the baby section? Is there something you need to tell me?” Joe asked and you immediately rolled your eyes.

“For Gabby! Her baby shower is tomorrow, remember? Just come over here and help me pick things out for her.”

“Oh, right. Be right there, I'm walking over now.”

It was another two minutes when you saw Joe coming towards you and he greeted you by placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Wait a minute, why do you have a cart? We got a basket when we came in here. What did you plan on buying her? The entire section? Am I paying for this?”

“Joseph, will you relax!? I'm just getting her a few things and then we can go eat. Now what do you think about these?” You asked as you held up the same two onesies to show him.

“Hmm, what is she having again?” Joe asked as he was looking at both of them.

“A girl, Joe. Both of these are pink.”

“So? What's your point? I wear pink too.”

“But not something that says princess on it!” You responded to him as you laughed.

“At least not yet anyway and I like both of them.”

“Okay good. Both it is and I’m ignoring you.”

“I should ignore you for leaving me by myself.”

“Oh, that's right. I forgot that you need supervision all the time.”

“No, that's you. I'm a responsible adult. You're the one who comes in here for one thing when you tell me you'll be back in twenty minutes but an hour goes by and you're nowhere to be found.”

“And you use whatever I bring back home so you benefit from it so I don’t want to hear it.” You told him with a smirk and now it was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Come on and help me. Sooner we finish, the sooner we get food and go home.” You told him and he quickly agreed as he started browsing the baby toys.

Before you knew it, another thirty minutes had passed by and the two of you had a cart full of different things for Gabby. You were satisfied with how much you had gotten, but Joe was still browsing.

“Babe, come on. This should be enough.” You told him as you came up behind and wrapped your arms around him as he was now comparing two different diaper brands and you suddenly got a flashback to the toothpaste situation.

“You can never have enough diapers though, right?”

“Sweetheart, we got her four packs already.”

“Yeah, but are those really the best ones? I think that these might be better in case she has a blow out. My nephew did that to me and I still have PTSD. Therapy was needed after that.” Joe told you as he put the other diapers back and you couldn't help but to laugh.

“Not funny, babe. I didn't realize how much shit could come out of someone so little.”

“It is funny, Joseph and I wish I was there to be able to see your face when it happened.”

“Keep going and I'm not feeding you.” Joe told you as he put the diapers you had gotten in the cart back and replaced them with the brand that he wanted.

“But, I need energy in order to ride you later.” You replied and Joe immediately turned a bright shade of red as you began to laugh.

“BABE!”

“What? What'd I say?”

“You know what you said. Come on so we can go.”

Later on that night you were sitting on the middle of the floor in your shared bedroom with Joe when he walked in to see what you were doing.

“You run away from me in Target and at home. Did I do something?” Joe playfully asked as he sat across from you and began to help you wrap the gifts for Gabby.

“Nothing at all, Joey. Doing this so I can spend the rest of the night cuddling my amazing boyfriend whom I love to the moon and back.”

“Just the moon, not further?”

“Well we aren't going to the sun unless we want to burn to a crisp so yeah the moon.”

“I'll take it.”

You were folding the onesies when Joe was simply admiring you. Before he could stop himself, he blurted it out.

“When are we going to have one?” He asked and your mouth instantly hit the floor, but you tried to compose yourself.

“Um, have a what?” You asked clearly flustered and Joe simply laughed.

“You know what I mean.” Joe responded as he pulled you to sit in his lap as he kissed the top of your head while his arms wrapped around you.

“You want a baby? With me?” You asked with your voice dripping with uncertainty.

“I want everything with you. I thought that much was obvious. And not just one baby, multiple.” He answered and you turned around to look at him.

“You're serious?”

“I love you and I'm as serious as a heart attack.”

“Well you low key just gave me one.” You muttered against his chest and he laughed.

“Don't you want that with me?”

“Of course I do. I want nothing more than to make it a reality. I just didn't really know how to tell you or if you were ready. I mean you are literally at the peak of your career.”

“Baby, you can tell me anything and everything. You know that. And so what? If this is something that we both want, we're going to make it work.”

“You're not messing with me?”

“Now, why would I do that? I want to make you my wife too whenever that time comes. Mrs. Sheisty has a nice ring to it, don't you think?”

Now it was your turn to shy away and hide in his chest and all he did was laugh.

“In that case, I can't wait for you and our daughter to have matching pink outfits.”

“Oh, so you want a girl first?”

“Of course, girls run the world and she is going to have you wrapped around her little finger just like I do now.” You told him as you poked his nose.

“If that's the case, you want to get started? I heard that making the baby is the fun part.”

[moonstruckme]

dare i say carmy coming home to ur shared apartment and you’re napping so he starts on dinner for u but you wake up and feel immensely guilty that he’s just come home from hours of cooking only to cook some more…(i want to kiss him so bad it’s embarrassing)

Thank you for requesting lovely!

Carmy Berzatto x fem!reader ♡ 544 words

You wake to the sound of sizzling in the kitchen. 

A groan tears from your throat as you untangle yourself from your blanket, searching for your slippers underneath the couch. Your apartment darkened without you noticing, the only light an orange glow coming from above the stove. 

“Carmy,” you croak, coming up behind him to wrap your arms around his middle. He jolts a little but relaxes once he realizes it's you. He still smells like the restaurant, like focaccia and a dozen herbs you could never identify on your own. 

“Hey.” He settles one hand over where your wrists cross on his abdomen. Calloused and intimate. “You good?” 

You rest your cheek on his shoulder, the ends of his hair tickling your nose. Your head hurts. “I’m sorry.” 

“What?” Whatever’s on the stove sizzles and pops. You hear his wooden spoon scrape through it. “Why, what’re you sorry for?” 

“I was supposed to do dinner.” 

“What?” Carmy asks again. He half turns his head, trying to see you. “Did we say that?” 

“No,” you mope, “but I was gonna. I was just taking a nap after work, and then I was gonna get up and make dinner. I didn’t mean to make you come home and cook after you just left the restaurant.” 

Your boyfriend makes a short, derisive sound. “You’re not making me do shit. It’s fine, I don’t care.” 

You sigh against the back of his shirt, your body heavy with misery. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t—quit saying that.” Carmy flicks down the heat on the stove, turns in the circle of your arms so that he’s facing you. He takes your face in his hands, grip firm. “You’re sick. It’s fine. I don’t expect you to make me dinner even when you’re not sick.” His brow wrinkles. “That’d be kind of fucked up and misogynist, right?” 

You feel a tug on your lips. “Yeah, I guess. But you cook all night anyway. And I’m not that sick anymore.” 

Carmy frowns. “Your face is still hot.” You think it probably goes a tad hotter at his notice, a tickle of shyness skittering across your skin where his thumbs rest on your cheeks. “Anyway, I don’t need you contaminating our food. It’s gross.” 

“Faulty logic,” you say, voice softening, “considering we share a bed and all that.” 

Now Carmy’s face is heating. You can tell from the pink splotches blooming by his nose. “It still feels grosser when it’s food. I don’t want your snot or whatever in there.” His expression softens slightly. “I’m not trying to be mean.” 

“I know.” You wrap your arms around him more tightly, your face to his chest. “Okay. Thank you.” 

He palms the back of your head. “You’re still fucking sick,” he mutters, but keeps you close as he rotates you both back towards the stove, pushing things around in his pan. 

“Yeah, maybe. My head hurts. Thanks for making dinner.” 

“It’s nothing fancy.” 

“What’re we having, Chef?”

“Now I feel like you’re gonna be disappointed.” 

You smile against Carmy’s front. “Never. What is it?” 

He lets his hand slip down from your head, petting down your hair to rest between your shoulder blades. “Uh, tomato soup. From the can.” 

You sigh blissfully. “You read my mind.”

[evie-sturns]

red - 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰

summary: you and matt have been dating for a month, the most you've ever done is made out, one night things turn, which results in you and matt both losing your virginity.

warnings: smut, virgin!matt, virgin!reader, swearing, fluff.

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i'm 19, and still a virgin. my boyfriend matt doesnt know, i'm too scared to tell him even though i know he would never judge me. nothing sexual has ever happened between us, but its bound to happen at some point, right?

matt and i are laying in his bed together, the house is empty for once as we cuddle close, watching a movie. i take a deep breath through my nose, anxiety rushing through me as my thoughts race

what if it hurts? what if matt won't think of me the same if i tell him? am i even ready?

"y/n, are you okay sweetheart, you're tensing like crazy." matt rubs my back, reasurringly.

"matt." i whisper, my voice hoarse.

"yeah?" he says, sitting up, his back pressing against the headboard as i lay on his chest.

what do i even say? i cant just say- "i want to have sex with you."

shit. the words came out like word vomit.

i throw my hand over my mouth, sitting up off matts chest and leaping off the bed. an awkward silence floods through the room as i reach for the door handle.

"come back." he says calmly, patting the spot next to him.

i nod like a guilty kid as i walk back over to his bed, sitting down next to him. "did you mean what you said sweetheart?" he says, interlocking our fingers. "possibly.." i mumble, my cheeks flushing.

matt laughs

"what!!" i say, slapping him softly.

"you're so red." he giggles,

"god shut up." i mumble, a smile spreading across my face.

another silence grows in the room as we decide what to say next. i clear my throat, "matt i need to say something." i whisper, looking everywhere but at him. he nods, squeezing my hand.

"i'm uh.. a virgin.?" i say, barely audible as i rub my eyes. "but like, i know its weird from my age but its just, i really love you, and everything about you.. i think i want you to take my virginity.."

"me too." he says, his cheeks red.

"you too?" i repeat, my eyebrows furrowing.

the room goes quiet, i'm quite frankly in shock.

its no secret matt's had mutiple girlfriends before me, but im finding it hard to wrap my head around how hes never done anything.

"look who's red now." i smile, staring at matts face.

"shush," he says, pressing a finger to my lips.

i pull off my shirt, revealing my white lacy bra.

matt's eyes widen. "oh." he coughs, his eyes fixated on my chest.

"too soon?" i ask, reaching for my shirt, starting to put it back on. "no no-.." he says grabbing the shirt from my hands and throwing it across the room. "is it really that good that you had to throw it across the room?" i laugh

"well don't want to risk you putting it back on!" he shrugs before pulling off his crewneck. i swallow hard, "i don't know what i'm doing if i'm being honest." i sigh, matt sits up, pressing a kiss to my forehead, "me neither, we'll figure it out." matt smiles.

i lay back on the bed as matt stands up, spreading my legs apart and stepping between them, he places a hand on the side of my face as he leans down, kissing from my neck.. to my chest.. to my belly button.

my breathing intensifies. pure nerves flooding through my body.

"are you nervous..?" he asks, pausing his pecks at my waistband.

"no." i lie through my teeth.

"mm yes you are..." he says teasingly.

"fine, i just don't want it to hurt, my friends all say it is the most uncomfortable thing the first time.." i mumble, running a hand through my hair.

"i know, you're stressing me out now!" he laughs, yanking down his sweatpants leaving him in his boxers. i follow his lead, unclasping my bra, matt stares at me shamelessly "fuck." he mumbles "you're so pretty.." he whispers.

“you okay?” he asks, reaching for the waistband of my shorts. i nod, looking him in the eyes.

“can i take these two off?” he asks, referring to my panties and shorts,

“y-yeah.. yep.” i mumble, he pauses.

“please don’t be nervous, just try to relax and i promise you it won’t hurt okay?” he says leaning down and kissing the tip of my nose.

“i’ll try to relax.” i say to matt, he slowly pulls down my panties, leaving me revealed in-front of him

“oh my god- okay, this might be a weird question but do you ever touch yourself..” matt says, staring at me

i burst into giggles, my face going red. matt slams a hand over his face “stupid question?” he smiles.

“no no.. it’s a good question but yeah i do. why?” i smirk

“oh thank god, i was worried about you.. being too tight and if i’m too big it won’t fit.” he says with a sigh

“mr. big dick over here everyone!” I joke, resulting in him rubbing his eyes “i didnt mean it like that.”

“you’re cute matt.” i say spreading my legs apart.

matt’s breath hitches in his throat as he stares at me, it’s probably the first naked woman that he’s been with in person.

“i have condoms..” he mumbled quietly

“oh.” i say with a disappointed tone

“babe i am not making you pregnant at 19.” he scoffs, opening his bedside table.

“i’m on the pill dumbass.” i smile, reaching for him

“i thought you were a virgin?” he asks his eyebrows furrowing

“matt i am, it’s just for other reaso-.. fuck it i’ll explain later”

matt’s boxers have a noticeable bulge pressing from the inside.

“you can take those off..” i whisper.

“yeah yup uhm of course!” he says shakily.

“why are you nervous now??” i laugh and he groans

“what if i’m bad..” he sighs

“where’s my clit.” i say bluntly, he points to it exactly.

“where the hole.” i say again, again he points to it with accuracy

“there you go, you’ll be fine, and i cant even judge you cause i don’t know better either!” i say assuring him

he slowly pulls off his boxers, his erection sprinting out tapping his bellybutton. “oh my god.” i whisper to myself.

“we need a towel matt..” i say standing up off the bed.

“for what?” he says quietly

“blood?” i say casually, he turns white. “what.”

he looks around nervously “you’re on your period?”

i laugh, “i’m on birth control sweetheart, remember?”

“then why the fuck will you bleed..”

“look at you, that dick will rip my hymen.” i say, he hands me his shirt,

“i don’t know what the fuck that means but here’s a shirt you can put under you.” he says nervously, his hand shaking as he passes me the shirt.

“you’re okay if it gets blood on it?”

“mhm i just wanna start..” he says quietly.

“jesus okay.” i say laying back on the bed, the shirt under me.

he grabs his base as he stands between my legs, he rubs his tip over my folds, sending goosebumps around my body. i let out a desperate moan.

“just tap me if you want me to stop and i will instantly okay..?” matt says, his tone less shaky then before. “i’ll go so slow.”

he lines himself up with my hole, pushing himself toward slightly, nothing happens.

“i cant um.. go further.” he says, pushing at my entrance

“what.?” i ask

“i think you really need to relax your whole body, loosen up a little bit okay?” he says pressing a kiss to my cheek.

he holds out a hand infront of my mouth “spit.” he demands

“gross!” i say with a smirk painted across my face

“i know..” he says, his hand not moving away, i spit into his hand, matt quickly moves it down, using it as a lube.

“relax as much as you can okay?” he says, pressing slowly into me.

“fuck fuck fuck..” i moan, squeezing my eyes shut

i feel his tip slide into me, a loud whimper escapes matt’s mouth “oh my god..” he pushes further into me, a stretching burning sensation grows as i feel a tear fall down my cheek, he pushes the rest of the way in, stopping completely to look at me as he’s still buried inside me.

“hey hey, don’t cry your okay, you took it all!” he says caressing my cheek and rubbing the few tears that fell away. “tell me when to move, remember if you need a break tell me, if you want me to stop tap me.” he says.

i nod, looking him in the eyes “move.. please-“ i say, balling the sheets up with my fists, he nods, pulling almost out then thrusting back in, he’s going slowly.

matt is clearly trying to conceal his noises as he continues to pull out then push in. the burning sensation slowly disappears, and is replaced with pleasure

a strong smile spreads across my face, “feels good now?” he asks, his voice croaky.

“yes..” i manage to squeeze out “faster.. please” he picks up the pace slightly “i’m not gonna last long this time.” he warns

i clench around him, he twitches inside me then instantly fills me up, my jaw goes slack as i look up at him.

“shit i am so sorry..” he says pulling out with a slick sound, he grabs my hips and stands me up, i feel his cum start to leak down my leg as my leg shakes

“oh shit oh shit..” he says frantically looking around, he settles on his shirt, grabbing it and places it on me, collecting everything that is coming out of me. i laugh at the sight of him between my legs, wiping his orgasm off my thighs.

“was that okay for you, did it hurt?” he says picking me up.

“i think you just rearranged my organs.”

his cheeks go red.

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very much requested hope you guys liked it,

don’t be shy to spam my inbox btw i love talking to people

[katsu28]

the way you love

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: loving george russell is as easy as breathing sometimes, especially with the way he loves you. loosely inspired by stardust by zayn. (2.8k)

a/n: welcome to the first of four holiday fics! i'm hoping to post one a day until christmas eve, so stay tuned :)

Maybe you should’ve waited inside for George to pick you up. 

Granted, you haven't been out here long, and you know he’ll be here soon, but it’s cold. Frigid wind whips your hair around your face, scraping over your skin harshly. 

You nuzzle a little deeper into your scarf in a poor attempt to protect your cheeks. 

The two cardboard cups clutched in your hands do help a little with the biting cold. One for you, one for George, both filled to the brim with steaming coffee from the little shop down the street from your building. 

They’ve rolled out their holiday cups today, as noted by the festive little scene printed across the sleeve. It makes you smile, and you think George will probably like it too. 

George’s sleek car pulls up in front of you with a gentle rumble not long later. You’re expecting him to be smiling when he gets out, but when his head pops over the roof of the car, he just looks concerned. 

“Blimey, have you been waiting out here the entire time?” He exclaims incredulously, rounding the front of the car quickly. 

You barely have time to nod before he’s easing the cups out of your grip. Only once they’re secured into cup holders inside the car does he grab your hands, bringing them up to his mouth to breathe a little warmth back into them. 

“Didn’t want you to have to wait on me,” You say, as if it’s any excuse to have been standing in the freezing cold. Really, you just wanted to see George as soon as he came to pick you up. You’ve just seen him only last week, but it feels like forever. 

“Darling, it’s freezing,” He reasons. He’s smiling now, despite the attempt to keep his firm composure. 

You frown. “I missed you.”

He kisses you instead of answering, short and sweet, but still bursting with affection. 

“Hi,” You say softly, nuzzling deeper into his broad palm after he pulls back an inch or two. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, bringing some more much needed heat back into your skin. You won’t tell him, but your nose had been starting to lose a bit of feeling. 

“Hi. I missed you too,” He replies, fondness dripping from his tone. 

“Yeah?” 

“Of course. Longest five days of my life.”

That makes you grin even harder, pushing forward for another quick kiss. “Mine too.”

“Glad we feel the same.” He looks very pleased. “Shall we get a move on? We’re a little early, but I know how much you hate being late to things. I even told Alex to expect us early.” 

You’re set to head to Alex Albon’s Christmas party in a little bit. George goes every year, but this is the first time you’re going too. You’re excited, nervous, and a little bit scared at the prospect of finally getting to meet all of George’s friends at one time. You've met a handful of them individually, gradually, George happily introducing you as his girlfriend every time, but never in such a large social setting like this party. 

You aren’t quite sure what to expect, but if the ones you haven’t met are anything like the ones you have, you’ll be just fine. 

“And what did he say about that?” 

“That Lily is relieved someone competent is coming round to help out, so I’d say he’s pretty okay with it,” George says, chuckling. “C’mon, let's get you out of the cold.” 

You allow George to help you into the car, letting out a comfortable sigh at the blazing warmth of the car interior. George has always liked to keep your shared spaces running hot despite your wishing for the opposite, but for the first time ever, you’re actually grateful for your boyfriend’s temperature preference. 

“Nice, isn’t it?” He teases as he climbs into the driver’s seat, nudging at your shoulder. “See, I told you you’d come around someday.” 

“Only because it’s cold as shit outside,” You huff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I got you coffee.” 

“Thank you, darling. Though I wish you hadn’t sacrificed your health to do so.”

“I know you had another late night yesterday, thought you might be tired. It’s fine, really, I didn’t mind,” You insist, shaking your head. 

“You’re very sweet,” George says softly, leaning over the center to press a kiss to your cheek. 

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you turn at the last moment so he catches your lips instead. He lets out a noise of surprise, but has no hesitation in kissing you back happily, slipping a hand around the back of your neck to pull you closer. 

You kiss and kiss and kiss until your lips start to tingle, and even then, you’re reluctant to pull away. There’s something intoxicating about kissing George that makes you want to do it forever. 

“If we stay here any longer, we might actually end up being late,” George murmurs. He blinks at you, long lashes fluttering open and shut slowly. His breath fans across your skin on every exhale, cologne invading your senses until all that surrounds you is him. 

“That would be bad.” 

“Mm, awful,” He agrees. Still, he doesn’t make any attempt to pull away, perfectly content here, hiding away with you in the coziness of your close proximity. His nose drags along your cheek, lips following the path until he reaches the corner of your mouth. 

You exhale shakily. “Alex and Lily are expecting us.” 

“They are.”

“So we should go.” 

“I mean, we don’t have to…” George trails off, letting his head tilt to the side. 

“Yes, we do. Someone roped us into helping with party prep.” 

He sighs rather heavily, handsome features screwing into overdramatic annoyance. “Starting to regret that right about now.” That makes you giggle. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with so we can go home.” 

“There’s that holiday spirit!” 

The drive over to Alex’s is fairly short. It actually takes more time to make yourselves presentable and not at all like you’ve just been making out in the car, before making your way up to Alex and Lily’s. George has brought presents for both of your friends—a watch for Alex and a bottle of perfume for Lily, he’d informed you in the elevator, bought by him, but a gift from the both of you. 

The door swings open with a blast of music and the smell of something delicious not seconds after you knock. Alex stands just behind it with a gracious smile on his face and a flute of something bubbly in hand. 

“Hi, welcome—oh, thank god you’re here,” He breathes. Then he stops, stares at the two of you for a few moments, as if he’s studying the both of you. A knowing smirk quirks his lips right after. “George, you’ve got lipstick on your chin, mate.” 

George’s hand flies up to his face, rubbing furiously. His cheeks have flushed an embarrassed pink at his friend’s smug observation. 

“I’m just kidding. But it was funny to see you panic,” Alex snickers. 

“Ha ha, hilarious. Maybe I won’t give you this gift after all.” 

Alex takes both boxes eagerly, tucking them under his arm with a wink. “Come on in, friends.” 

The flat is decorated tastefully—festive, but not gaudy. You assume Lily had done most of the decor rather than Alex.

Speaking of—

“You’re here!!! Thank god!” Lily exclaims, barely paying George any mind before she whisks you away, chattering away immediately, wanting your opinions on everything from the appetizers to the seating arrangements at dinner. You cast a helpless glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend, who merely gives you an amused wave back. 

You do what Lily tells you needs finishing up until the rest of the guests start to make their arrival. Most of the other drivers are in attendance, save for a few who’d opted to spend the holidays home with their families. Charles and Carlos are here, Lando and Oscar, Yuki, Pierre, Zhou and Franco, to name a few. 

The bundle of nerves in your chest starts to unravel as more familiar faces trickle in, and you’re able to catch up with a couple of them. You’re chatting with Kika and Pierre about what’s new with Simba when a hand touches the small of your back. 

Instantly, you know it's George. His touch is the only one that sends butterflies through you. That’s never happened with anyone else before, but with George, you feel alight with a certain energy every time. 

You lean back into him on instinct, tilting your head up to look at him. His cheeks are slightly rosy, hair still perfectly coiffed, save for one curl that has escaped to hang over his forehead. You reach up to brush it back and he smiles, sliding a hand around your waist. 

“So sorry to interrupt, you lot. Just wanted to pop in and see if anybody needed a refresher on their drinks,” He offers, though his gaze rests solely on you. 

“Thank you, but we’re good, mate,” Pierre replies, as Kika shakes her head to decline too. 

George says your name, lips lifting into a small smile as he juts his chin at your nearly empty glass. 

“Thank you, Georgie,” You say gratefully. “Don’t forget to—”

“Make it sweeter? Yes, I know how you take your drinks, darling,” He hums, kissing your cheek quickly before retreating with your glass. 

“You’ve trained him well,” Pierre teases, winking at you. 

“I think he was born that way,” You admit. 

That isn’t a lie. According to George’s sister, who you’d had the pleasure of meeting a few months back, he'd always been very kind, very caring, even when he was young. It’s one of the many qualities of his that has you falling in love with him a little more with every passing day. 

George leaves you to your own conversations after bringing you your drink, but you see him periodically throughout the night. He always looks like the life of the conversation, talking animatedly, listening with rapt attention when he’s not yapping away. 

Even as he’s listening intently, it’s like he can sense you’re looking at him, because he finds you almost instantly, sending a smile or a wink your way. That’s another lovable quality of his—knowing where you are even when he’s not with you. Like you’re two magnets being pulled towards each other at all times.

The more you chat with everyone else, one thing becomes obvious. George talks about you a lot. Not enough to be obnoxious, but he's mentioned you to many of his friends. 

Charles knows you’ve been looking into learning how to play the piano because George had asked him something about which pianos were the best. Yuki offers up a few cooking tips because George had mentioned you wanted to try your hand at a new dish. Lewis congratulates you on a big project you’d finished at work a while back, telling you that George had been singing your praises in the garage right after you'd called. 

If you look back at it, George has always been one of your biggest supporters. 

Always wanting you to call him whenever something big happens because he can’t be there all the time, always doing things for you when he’s away so you never for a moment feel like he's not thinking of you. Sending you flowers, ordering you food from your favorite spot in Monaco even though he's a thousand miles away because he knows it’ll make you smile. Even just texting you a picture of something he saw that made him think of you. 

George makes you feel so, so loved, all the time. Like, wherever you are in the world, no matter, everything will be okay because you’ve got him. You could be on some far off deserted island in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the land to live off of, but if George is there with you, it wouldn’t be all that bad. 

Sometimes you wonder what your life would’ve been like if you’d never met him, but you never get far with those thoughts. You can’t even imagine what life would look like without George Russell. And honestly, you don’t really want to. 

“Ready to head out?” George’s voice draws you out of your thoughts, and when you refocus, he’s right in front of you, holding out your coat. For a moment, you can only stand there, blinking back at him like you’ve just laid eyes on him for the first time ever. 

He falters a little under your intense staring. “Darling? Are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” 

“Sorry, yeah. I’m fine, I’m just…tired, I think.” 

“Let’s go home then. Stay the night at mine?” 

“Duh,” You say. Your obvious tone makes George chuckle a little bit as he helps you slip into your coat.

“How silly of me to even ask.”  

After finding your hosts to thank them for the great evening and subsequently being invited for a game of doubles padel with them one of these days, you're off. 

“I don’t have any skin cleanser,” You say suddenly, just as George has pulled onto the main road.

“What?” 

“At your place. I don’t have my cleanser, the one I always use before bed.” 

“The one in the little green bottle?” 

“Yeah.” You frown, slumping back in your seat. In hindsight, it’s really not the biggest deal in the world, and you’re not sure why you’re making it one. But for some reason right now, you’re focused on it. 

“Lucky for you, your wonderful boyfriend bought a bottle just in case this happened. He figured you’d probably forget it one of these days.” 

“Is there a reason my wonderful boyfriend is referring to himself in the third person?” You giggle, shifting in your seat to face said thoughtful boyfriend. George’s cheeks are flushed a little pink. 

“Yeah, I thought it was a little weird too. Anyways, there’s a bottle in the bathroom cupboard.” 

“Thank you, Georgie. You’re always so thoughtful.” 

“Y’know, you could just move in with me. That way you won’t have to worry about not having things at mine anymore.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he speaks, but you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows nervously. “You’ve already got loads of stuff there anyways, why not just bring it all? You wouldn’t have to drive across the city every time you come over, for one.” 

“I barely drive to yours anyways, you know. You always insist on picking me up,” You tease. George smiles, but you can tell he’s serious about wanting you to move in with him. You sigh, squeezing his hand. “Babe, I’d love nothing more, but…I could never afford to live with you.”

“I’m not going to have you pay rent or anything like that, darling. I wouldn't ask that of you.” George’s nose wrinkles, like it’s absurd of you to even think about it. “Just your company would be more than enough, honestly. Make the place less empty, more like…home.”

You can already imagine it. Falling asleep next to each other every night, waking up tangled together every morning, getting to come home and unwind with each other after long days. Breakfasts and afternoon teas and dinners you’d make together in George’s massive kitchen. Your stuff mingling with his in every room of the place. 

Maybe you’d adopt a pet together one day, one that could keep you company every time George was away for races. 

“Okay,” You say softly. You’ve already convinced yourself. “Let’s live together.” 

George pulls to a stop at the red light, taking the opportunity to lean over into your space and kiss you gently. “Let’s do it, darling.” 

Taking the next step in your relationship seems daunting, but George will be there to soothe any anxieties you have. He always is. 

“Oh no! We forgot about the coffee.” He frowns, plucking the still full cup out of the holder suddenly. Then he shrugs, taking a giant sip of it. “Cute cup.” 

“George, it’s cold!” You exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. “Just throw it out when we get home.”

“It tastes fine!” 

“It’s probably stale.” 

“I think it’s delicious.” 

“You’re so weird.” 

He chooses to ignore the muttered quip, letting a giant grin stretch his lips instead, eyes gleaming with excitement. “You called it home.” 

“Well, it is now, isn’t it? Or will be soon enough.” 

“Sure will. I’m thinking we move you in tomorrow.” 

You chuckle, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. “I have to get out of my lease first. It might take a while too, my landlord is kind of an asshole.” 

“I’ll give him double whatever you’re paying right now to let you out of it early. No, triple.” 

“I don’t think he’d appreciate bribery, but he is a Mercedes fan.” 

“Paddock passes and VIP club access to Monaco next season, done.”

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[igotanidea]

Prevaricate: Dick Grayson x reader

(prevaricate - to avoid telling the truth)

Part 2 of The truth

***

“So, Y/N… What brings you to me today?”

“I’m seeing things—”

“What kind of things?”

“I think I saw my dead ex-boyfriend”

***

“Morning, sunshine…” Dick hummed, rolling on the other side of the bed, instinctively reaching arms to Y/N, who was still asleep next to him. “Wakey wakey…” with few strategically placed kisses he tried to coo her to open those beautiful e/c eyes and look at him.

“Hmmmm…” she only muttered in response, nuzzling into the mattress, trying to hide her face and prevent the ticklish sensation on her skin.

“Oh no, you don’t!” In a swift, quick movement she found herself on the back, ridiculously exposed and vulnerable. Dick only grinned mischievously and without missing a beat started showering her with affection once more, this time not limiting the multiple pecks to her face, but daring to kiss also her neck and shoulders. And adding some tickling on her side and under her armpits where he knew she was most sensitive.

“Stop it!” she chuckled, squirming in a poor attempt to break free. “Stop, stop!”

“Mmm, no. I don’t think I will. Not when you are clearly enjoying it.” He intensified the movement of his fingers, but still keeping it PG. They had the most wonderful night yesterday and as much as he’d love to just repeat it, she had to get her rest. And it was his job to let her know that Dick was head over heels with her, this was not a one-time-thing, that he was going to love her and take care of her. So the tickling was just that. Tickling. Without any ulterior motives on his part.

She deserved that much after everything that happened with Jason.

Jason.

Shit.

“Hey, you good?” Y/N looked at him carefully, quite surprised that he stopped teasing her so abruptly and got a little fogged gaze. “Mmm, Dick?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. Perfect, actually”  he hovered over her, placing a kiss on top of her nose, making her giggle. “Come on sunshine, get up. We got a whole day ahead of us, and I’ll make sure everything goes perfectly smoothly.”

“But –”

“Starting with breakfast.”

“But Dick-“

“Nuh-uh. You don’t dick me” he responded without thinking and then chuckled at the unintentional double meaning “Still. We’re having a perfect day.”

“Last night—”

“Hush.” He placed finger on her lips “Last night was everything I dreamed of. So do not tell me you regret it.”

Dick might have been smiling and having a teasing attitude at that moment, but in the back of his mind, the name of his younger brother was flashing like a red neon light.

Jason. Jason. Jason.

“I don’t regret it.” Y/N smiled.

Jason. Jason. Jason.

“Good. Very good.”

Jason, Jason, Jason, JASON!!

“Now come on, put something on that pretty curves of yours, so I can focus on pampering you and not on other things” Dick bent and threw her his shirt, earning a surprised gaze and a quirked eyebrow. “What?”

“You want me to wear your shirt?”

“Sure. You’re my girl now.” Dick shrugged casually.

“You’re so awfully confident of that-“

“Besides, that’s like killing two birds with one stone. We’ll both look hot like hot -you in my shirt and me bare chested. Unless you’d rather use some other combination of lack of clothes?”

“You’re such an idiot!” she laughed, putting on his shirt and following him to the kitchen.

***

Acting in his best interest, Dick decided that it was an absolute necessity to show Y/N off a bit, therefore after breakfast, she was almost dragged across the city, to make sure everyone noticed that the Dick Grayson had his arms all over Y/N Y/L/N while walking. That the Dick Grayson stopped almost every five steps to steal a little kiss from her lips. That it was the Dick Grayson pulling her to his side and guiding her to Bruce Wayne’s private jet just so they could have a little trip to whatever country they fancied.

It was so shallow and on show and should have felt wrong, but –

She was a woman.

There was no way for her to not enjoy it.

And even with the overboard uptake on things she was beaming like the sun (almost replacing the sun since Gothamites could not complain about its excess).

It was all too perfect.

***

What’s the saying?

All good things come to an end?

Yeah… well—

***

While Dick and Y/N were casually strolling around, happy with their happiness, someone else was following them.

Someone stealthy, quiet and observant.

And very, very angry.

“Hey, how about we get some ice cream?” Dick suddenly stopped in front of the ice cream stall. “Wait, let me guess, you want your fav flavor again?”

“Actually-“ she grinned “I’d rather try something new.”

“Oh?”

“You go and surprise me. I’ll wait here for you.” With a little peck on the lips she gently pushed Dick to the stall, wanting to somehow test his taste in flavors and maybe check out if he really knew her and would pick something she’d like.   

And then—

It must have been a mirage. There was no way that she actually saw who she saw.

Jason, Jason, Jason.

That was just someone confusingly similar to her lost lover.

With the very same hair and eyes and face and everything.

Looking right at her from the other side of the street.

Gone the very second the car passed through.

Y/N shook her head, rubbed her eyes and mentally called herself crazy.

“You good, babe?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sure! What did you get me?”

She was with Dick now. And the sudden mind trick producing Jason’s silhouette in front of her eyes was nothing more than saying goodbye to her past.

Closing the door to what was and opening the ones to what would be.

***

A few hours later, they got back to their shared apartment, Dick immediately moving to start responding to the messages and reaching out to his friends, bragging about getting the most beautiful girl in the world.

Meanwhile, Y/N used the opportunity to excuse herself and call someone too.

“Bruce?”

“Y/N?”

“I need your help.”

***

“You didn’t tell her.” Batman said to Nightwing in a distinctive low voice.

“No. No, I didn't tell her.”

“So she doesn’t know.”

“Yeah, usually when someone is not told something that person doesn’t know, Bats.” There was a slight hint of annoyance in Nightwing’s voice.

“Not necessarily.”

“Huh?”

“Did you threaten everyone around to keep her in the dark as well?”

“I did not threaten—”

“Does she know, Nightwing?”

“NO.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“She called me earlier today.”

“What? Why would she call you?”

“She saw Jason. A few times actually. And now, she’s convinced she’s going crazy.”

“What?! There’s no way—she couldn’t have seen him! I was with her the whole time and—fuck!”

“She almost begged me to see our therapist.”

“Leslie!?” Dick stiffened.

“Hm.”

“Fuck! Batman! Do not tell me you arranged the appointment!”

“I did.”

“Fuck!” Dick groaned again. Leslie was a professional and helped the bat family on multiple occasions. But, the bad side of all that, was that as a therapist, she would probably encourage Y/N to dig in the truth. And that would mean a total disaster to their blooming relationship. And if Jason was already bold enough to start closing in on them – on her – this would mean trouble.

“Nightwing.”

“I’ll deal with it.” Dick hissed with the clenched teeth.

It looked like Gotham and Bludhaven’s favorite chatty and witty hero had just discovered his dark side.

Or just a possessive one.  

@avery1709 :)

[planetnini]

ONE — MAYBE I COULD FIX HIM ?

with the week you're having, you don't have it in you anymore to deal with anymore bullshit and take it out on your asshole of a roommate gojo satoru (3.8k words)

content. cheating (we don’t do the cheating), named ex: hiroto, shoko is an extremely good judge of character, geto suguru the man that you are, gojo is a bit of an asshole, reader goes off at the end (rightfully so) <33

Whoever said that if you do what you love, you'll never work another day in your life was a liar. Sure it was a well-meaning sentiment and while it filled your soul with some semblance of hope on some days, it was the main reason you were struggling with your degree and drowning in work. 

So much for dreaming big…

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” the girl questioned. The smoke from her cigarette created an odour that permeated the air as you let out a sigh, leaning back on the wall.

“That shit’s gonna kill you one day.” you muttered moving your head toward the cigarette in between her fingers as you turned your attention to the scene in front of you, waiting for her to finish.

“Make sure I have a nice funeral.” she chuckled before puffing out a cloud of smoke as she pulled the cigarette away from her mouth. When you didn't laugh at her comment, she just stared at you. Your eyes were closed and breathing a little jagged as she observed. Did you think she wouldn't notice?

Ieriri does not reveal much about herself, but everyone that was friends with her knew she was deathly loyal and cared for her friends in a unique way. She put the stick up to her mouth inhaling as she spoke, "You look like shit.” 

“You know how my afternoon lectures are.” she sighed.

She put out her cigarette in the ashtray bin and tucked her hands into her pocket. She was not at all convinced by your story. 

“Hold it Missy.” she demanded and of course your feet stopped in its tracks before her, “Tell me what’s wrong now.”

“I’ve been hearing things about Hiroto.”

You don’t think you’ve met someone that hated Hiroto more than your best friend herself. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as you mentioned your boyfriend or as she called him ‘he-who-must-not-be-named’. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, her lips pulling into a pout. She always had a thing for the dramatics.

"What else is new? Hiroto is a scumbag."

"Ieiri!" you scolded, frowning at her choice of words. 

She scoffed with a shrug before she linked your arms in hers and started walking toward the cafe. You had no idea what she had against Hiroto. He was the most popular guy in your university, and he was the one everyone wanted to be with, but it came as a surprise when he chose you. He had eyes for you, and you couldn't understand why anyone would want you of all people so he asked you out one day and you didn't have the heart to say no. Even if you had liked him at the time, which you didn’t, you still couldn't have said no, it would have been an opportunity wasted. He wasn’t the nicest guy but you would say he treated you well so you defended him every time.

“I still don't understand what you see in him.”

You smiled faintly, “As much as you doubt him, he really does care about me."

You could tell that Ieiri didn’t approve. She never made her opinion on him a secret, and you don’t expect her to start now. 

She rolled her eyes again and sighed, "Yeah, well you should really find someone better, like a certain someone."

It was your turn to roll your eyes at the thought of who she was referring to: a certain white haired roommate of yours. 

“I hope you’re not trying to suggest who I think you are?” you stated as she gave you a sly smirk before shrugging.

“Have things with Satoru been better?”

You paused, contemplating on how to respond as you both walked into the cafe. You turned your attention to the menu as you stood in line. Your eyes scanned over the pamphlet you received when you walked in as you also looked at the assortment of baked goods and pastries. 

"I still can't quite figure him out." you muttered as you stared at some of the menu items.

Her curiosity was piqued as you said this, already knowing what she would order as she stared at you now. "What's he up to now?" she asked.

When you got to university, you opted to follow your dreams and your heart and while you looked forward to finishing your degree, reaching your dreams and goals was expensive, which was something you had known as a teen. It explained why you had to get a job that definitely does not pay minimum wage and why you had to room with Satoru Gojo, as per Ieiri’s request, just to be able to do what you love.

At first, you had thanked Ieiri for convincing the prestigious Gojo Satoru to be your roommate at the start but when he moved in, you were less than grateful.

Gojo Satoru was a scion of a wealthy and successful family making him the epitome of privilege: rich, handsome, and effortlessly at the top of his class without ever needing to study– he pretty much had everything handed to him on a silver platter. 

The first few months were turbulent, to say the least. Gojo acted like a spoiled prince, which was not surprising, always expecting things to be done for him and showing little regard for your personal space or boundaries. Arguments were frequent and inevitable but you shouldn't be complaining, he was the one paying most of the rent. 

Entitlement dripped from his every pore but then something shifted. With you trying to assert your own space and independence against his behaviour and actions, it was as though he had picked up on your growing frustration and decided to turn over a new leaf or whatever. 

It started with small gestures- he'd clean up after himself, occasionally ask if you needed anything from the store, and even helped out with chores around the apartment. These moments, though rare, caught you off guard. You couldn't help but wonder if it was all an act, a facade he put on simply because you were sharing a living space. Deep down, you were convinced that the 'nice' Gojo was just a pretence to keep the peace.

Yet, there were times when you couldn't ignore the fact that he seemed genuinely concerned about you, though these moments were fleeting– hidden beneath layers of sarcasm and his usual arrogance.

“He is just utterly unpredictable." you sighed as you put a hand over your eyes in frustration.

"Sounds like Satoru." she chuckled.

“I don’t know, it just feels like he’s nice to me because I’m friends with you.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow, a hint of concern in her eyes. "Are you saying he's being fake around you because of our friendship?"

"Yeah, sometimes it feels that way. Like he's just putting on a show."

Shoko's lips pulled into a small frown, her eyebrows knitting together, "That doesn't sound like him at all. Maybe he's just trying to be friends with you."

You had been so focused on the topic at hand, you hadn't realised you were at the front of the line.

You shrugged, "It's probably nothing.”

"Stop thinking about Satoru, you’re holding up the line." she scoffed as she smiled at the cashier.

You gave the worker an apologetic smile before turning to the person behind you, "Sorry, about that."

After ordering your favourite drink and some pastries, you approached a small table to sit. “I don’t know. I mean I guess Gojo and I are friends but still, I’m a bit suspicious.”

“I don’t think he would do something like that for my sake.”

"It just feels like you're trying to get him on my good side, I wonder why that is." you hummed with a tilt of your head, raising your brows at her.

"I think my best friend just deserves someone better." she shrugged with a pout.

"And Gojo is 'someone better'?" you scoffed.

Her hesitance was telling and you could see the gears shifting in her head, "That's like asking if apple juice is better than orange juice."

You rolled your eyes at her and looked around the café. The coffee beans alongside the soft humming of the machine, muffled speaking, jazz that played through the speakers really defined the atmosphere. Perhaps this place would become a regular study spot if they nailed just how you liked your drinks. 

“Thank you for coming with me by the way.”

“No problem.”

You had a small smile on your lips as Ieiri decided to fold the receipt she had in her hand into origami, your eyes leisurely scanned over the cafe's charming layout but then, as fate would have it, your heart suddenly felt like it had been gripped by an icy hand, causing it to skip a beat.

The cafe that once felt spacious now seemed to shrink around you, constricting your senses. Your gaze, once idly roaming the room, had fixated on an all-too-familiar figure.

There, amidst the warm, cosy ambiance of the cafe, sat Hiroto. He was not alone. He was sitting across from another girl, their faces close. A rare smile was etched across his features, who was she to be able to make him look at her like that? He had never looked at you that way… 

Maybe it was a friend?

Ieiri, perceptive as ever, noticed the abrupt change in your expression. Her eyes followed your gaze instinctively, and when she locked onto what you were seeing, her face transformed from one of carefree enjoyment to sheer disbelief and anger. 

Their smiles were flirtatious and you could feel the creeping feeling of fear settle in your bones.

They were completely engrossed in each other, oblivious to the world around them as they leaned in for a kiss. Definitely not a friend.

Ieiri was right. He was a scumbag.

Your mind couldn't quite grasp what was unfolding before your eyes, reality not even seeming real for a second.

Confrontation was the last thing on your mind. You didn't want to cause a scene, not here, not now, even if every fibre of your being screamed for justice.

Shoko's fingers tightened around her origami creation, crumpling it as her anger flared up. Her eyes locked onto the two with an intensity that could have scorched the room. 

She had always been vocal about her disdain for him, and this seemed like the perfect moment to let it all out. Without hesitation, Shoko started to push her chair back, her intention clear: she was going to confront Hiroto, give him a piece of her mind, and let the whole café know about his deceit. To berate him for everything he did to you, everything he did that you were too blind to see. You sat there in silence, your heart heavy with disbelief and betrayal but instinctively your hand reached out for hers. You shook your head ever so slightly, silently pleading with her not to make a scene.

“We can't just let him get away with this." she whispered back, her frustration growing by the minute.

Shoko's anger was palpable, and her lips quivered with the words she wanted to unleash but she respected your unspoken plea, if only for now, and reluctantly sank back into her chair waiting for your order number to be called out. Once you received the drinks and pastries, the two of you continued walking back to your shared apartment, the weight of the situation heavy on your mind as a tear slipped from your eyes. You had no goddamn appetite now.

The evening had taken an unsettling turn for you. After returning from a troubling encounter at the café that you wished you could just forget, you found yourself back in your cosy apartment that you shared with the Satoru Gojo, the most popular boy on campus.

As you pushed off your shoes and set them by the door, you overheard some of Gojo's friends chatting in the main area. Forcing a smile, you greeted the people in the room as Ieiri followed behind you, making her presence known as she greeted them as well. You placed the bag of pastries on the table, knowing that for certain, Gojo would inhale them when he got his hands on them.

“Hey, do you have a smoke?” Geto asked Ieiri as he looked over his shoulder. Next thing you knew, Geto had moved to sit across from you at the island counter while you sipped at your glass of water, mind wandering back to your jerk of a boyfriend. “How are you?” he inquired, patiently waiting for your response.

“I’m alright, thanks,” you mumbled, trying to muster a genuine smile in response to his concern. 

Geto waved a hand in front of your face as your thoughts drifted. Suddenly, you were locked into eye contact with him. Leaning down to eye level, he asked, “You sure you’re okay? You look a bit tired,” a playful chuckle escaping his lips.

You sighed a little before shaking your head resolutely, “Just had a terrible fucking week.”

Geto chuckled, “Tell me about it.” he scoffed, commiserating with your struggles. Although he didn’t know the full story, it didn’t matter, you were seen for a second and it felt good, "I swear they have it out for us."

Ieiri was best friends with both Gojo and Geto in high school. You never really understood their dynamic at all but the brief interactions shared with Geto had been enough for you to come up with a comprehensive answer. 

Many people around had said that Geto was like the sun personified, radiating this warmth and light wherever he went. His presence had an undeniable magnetic quality, drawing people toward him but he could leave an indelible mark on anyone in his presence. It was quite possible that what was true, made you smile a little.

Gojo's friends continued their lively chatter, sharing stories and laughter and it wasn’t until you heard the tap turn on that you realised Gojo is standing right next to you drinking water aswell.

“Hey. You smoking or what? I don’t have all day, Suguru,” Shoko chimed in, her voice cutting through the conversation.

“That shit will kill you one day Suguru.” he muttered next to you.

“Funny. You said the same thing to me today.” Ieiri commented and you could feel all their gazes land on you.

“I guess we’re a lot alike.” Gojo joked and you feel yourself smile at his words as Geto and Shoko shared a look.

Geto cleared his throat, a hand coming up to your shoulder, “Things will get better, I promise.” he smiled as both he and Shoko exited the apartment for their smoke.

The atmosphere inside the apartment shifted slightly as you were left alone in the kitchen with Gojo.

“What was that about?” he spoke, regarding the comment that Geto had just made. 

You turned your attention to Gojo and shook your head dismissively, “It’s nothing.”

“You sure? You can talk to me, you know?”

“I know,” you nodded, “It’s nothing, really.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” he took another sip of his water. 

You paused for a moment, “If I knew you had guests over, I would've brought them some as well.” you stated, pointing at the pastries from the café in the bag.

Gojo raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "So those pastries are for me?" he inquired, his playful tone evident.

"Don't push it." you scoffed, your heart warming at his teasing for just a second. There is suddenly a nagging feeling that tells you he is just being nice to you due to the circumstances.

You clear your throat as you tear your gaze away from him, "Are your friends staying for dinner? If they are, I might skip."  You weren’t exactly feeling like yourself, and would rather not be spending time around people you hardly knew. You were just getting warmed up to the man next to you anyways.

“They’re not staying over. Even if they were, I don't really encourage skipping meals.” Gojo replied, his tone shifting between genuine concern and playfulness.

You can’t even force yourself to smile at his concern, you wanted to keep the discussion going, but your recent experience at the café had left you feeling on edge. "I guess I’ll see you at dinner then." you teased, your playful tone masking the underlying curiosity you had about his intentions. Did he truly want to be friends with you or was he doing it just out of pity? 

He nodded at you and you retreated back into your room to grab some clothes but the voices of his friends drifted into your ears.

“Was that Hiroto’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” you heard the familiar white haired boy reply.

Their conversation had been about you, and you knew it. Trying to push yourself to stop them from eavesdropping, you shook your head and continued at finding some comfortable clothes for tonight. You needed to do something to take your mind off the events from earlier.

"Wait, seriously? I thought he was dating someone else."

Their words cast a shadow over your thoughts and only amplified your bad mood. You clenched your fists, trying to push down the mixture of anger and hurt.

“I don’t know how she’s still with him.”

The weight of their judgement had hit you harder than ever, especially after what you had witnessed earlier. As you contemplated confronting them about it, you could hear the hushed murmurs growing louder, escalating your frustration as a couple of voices interject. 

“She’s kind of pathetic. Don’t you think so?”

You weren't ready to hear them belittle you any further, so you decided to retreat to the sanctuary of the shower, hoping the water would wash away the bitterness. 

You turned on the water, stepping into the shower trying to drown out the sound of their voices echoing in your head. You wished you hadn't noticed how little effort Gojo made to defend you. Perhaps you were wrong to think the two of you were friends to begin with and considering his track record, maybe you shouldn’t have been so lenient to think he was different.

As you emerged from the shower, refreshed but still vulnerable, you were in the confines of your room as you messaged Shoko about what had happened. You knew she would give her a piece of her mind when she saw him next. You laid in bed, letting out some breaths steadying your heartrate as you heard Gojo call for you from outside your door. You weren't prepared for this, not after what you just heard between him and his friends.

With your emotions still raw and your nerves on edge, you slowly opened the door to find Gojo standing there, his usual confident demeanour softened.

His presence in the dimly lit hallway was both comforting and disconcerting. You met his gaze, your eyes holding a mixture of anxiety and frustration.

Gojo's voice was gentle but laced with concern as he spoke, "I sent my friends home.”

You nodded, not even bringing it in yourself to even berate him for being an absolute asshole to you when he thought you weren’t listening.

“I noticed you've been quiet since you got home. Is everything okay? Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?"

Your emotions, a turbulent whirlwind of hurt and anger, surged within you. With a deep breath, you finally found your voice, but your words came out sharp and accusatory, "I don't appreciate it Gojo," you began, your tone wavering but determined, "I know what you and your friends say about me when you think I'm not listening."

Gojo's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about," you continued, your voice quivering with anger.

You could see Gojo's expression shift from confusion to realisation, and a pang of regret flickered in his eyes. His usually playful demeanour had vanished, replaced by a sombre and sincere expression.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, his voice sincere but unsure of how to proceed.

You felt tears well up in your eyes replaying the pain of your boyfriend cheating on you and the callous things they said behind your back. The disappointment of his apology settled in- he’s only sorry because he got caught. 

“That was the last thing I expected from you.” you spat out. "I thought…” you let out a deep breath, your words hanging with every ounce of pain that you’d felt today. You shook your head as you continued, “I thought we were friends."

"We are." he declared, his eyes wavering now. With guilt or concern, you couldn't tell but you knew he didn't really care.

"We're not." you emphasised, still burning with the fury of all the events that transpired today. "Every day, I see you look at me with those eyes that say how pathetic you think I look."

Gojo's brow furrowed in frustration with himself. He wanted to say the right words, to offer comfort, but he struggled to find them. He stepped a little closer, his hands outstretched towards you. You stepped back, your heart pounding erratically, and he instantly retreated.

“You have no idea how much it hurts but I guess I shouldn’t have trusted you to begin with.”

Without giving him a chance to speak, you shut the door with trembling hands. You felt a thud against the door on the opposite end and you could hear him muttered a few curse words as you slid down the surface defeatedly.

His face that was etched with guilt and regret. That look was embedded in your head as you let the tears slip down your face. He gave a resigned sigh before turning away and trudging off towards the kitchen to make dinner– alone.

You stayed in your room until you heard the door to his room close after a couple hours of distracting yourself: with studying, messaging Shoko how much you hated Gojo, and cleaning your room. Retreating from your bedroom as quietly as you can, you see a plate of food he made for you wrapped up with a small post it note on your favourite drink next to it.

I know you're still mad at me, but I hope you don’t skip dinner. Eat well, you'll need the strength... ᕙ(‾̀◡‾́)ᕗ

You scoffed at his note, scrunching it up, putting it in your pocket. It was all just lip-service.

As you sat there alone, your eyes welled up with tears, and you could feel your composure slipping away. The weight of the day became too much to bear. Your heart ached, the hurt and betrayal coursing through you as you sobbed softly.

What a terrible fucking week.

tags! @stsgluver @pandoraium @cottonheadedninnymugggins @satoryaa @bbyxxm @itsthemodelinme @sattosugu

notes. this is not proofread. i don't think the last half of this is as good but... we move!!! i'm sick and wanted to give back with the first chapter since i have some free time to write now <3 it gets better i promise, please comment and give me some love (or feedback), thank you :)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Can i please request a sleep token HC (kinda long tho) about how the boys would be with a pregnant girlfriend? on my period rn and my hormones going crazy 😛💜

You and I both sis… I was waiting till someone popped something like this into my ask. Got to hold onto my ovaries with both hands.

Vessel

Vessy… right he is a nervous wreck. Anything you do, any facial expression, anything can and will send him into panic mode. Let’s not go back to the time when he walked into the kitchen to find you on top of a kitchen counter looking through cupboards. “I’m saying this with love”, he says softly, making you jump slightly only to feel his hands against your back. “You get down or I swear…”, he grunts, carefully lifting you up. “Did you lose your mind?”, he whisper shouts. “I just wanted a cookie”, you try to give him sad puppy dog eyes. “I can get you a dang cookie without you breaking your dang neck”, he shakes his head. “You were busy”, you point out, “Never too busy for you. Never do that again”, Vessel points a warning finger at you. “You’re both okay?”, his tone is softer now as he looks you over. “We’re okay. Just…”, you bite your lip. “Just what?”, “Can I have a cookie?”, you smile at him. Vessel just shakes his head, reaching his hand yo as he pulls the box out, “Yes, you can have your cookie”.

He’s always your hype man. Even when you can’t fit into anything but his shirts, he still makes sure that you know how beautiful you are. “I feel like an elephant”, you whine, wobbling out of the bedroom. Yet all Vessel can do is smile as he looks at you. “I love the fit. Sweatpants are cute and my shirt looks adorable on you”, he reaches for you bringing you closer to him. “I want to wear pants, not sweatpants, it’s so not cute”, you frown. “ii could write you a whole book on why sweatpants are better than pants”, Vessel chuckles managing to pull a smile out of you.

Vessel is also big on singing to the baby but not all the “sad and depressing shit I scream at the arenas”, his words. Even if you hum sleep token constantly. I feel like he would sit down and prerecord a little lullaby mix for the baby. So even before the birth, the only way to stop the insane kicking at night is for Vessel to sing. So you are nudging his shoulder slightly after trying to find peace the past two hours. “Vess”, you mutter, he stirs instantly. “Are you in labor?”, he sits up, “No, no… just need you to sing”, you say softly.

He runs a hand over his face, blinking a couple of times as he chases the sleep away. “Is sprout misbehaving again?”, leaning in he presses his big palm against your stomach. “I think your kid just wants to have a dance parties constantly”, you chuckle. “We talked about this, mommy needs sleep”, he whispers against your stomach, kissing all over the skin, earning a handful of kicks. “Dance parties for after when you’re no longer hurting mommy”, he taps at your stomach before looking up, “Get comfortable, I’ll sing sprout to sleep”, you let your body sink into the plush sheets, close your eyes as your boyfriend’s heavenly voice fills the early morning silence.

ii

Low-key planned. Like you weren’t like yeah we are having a kid but you also weren’t using protection so when you put two and two together it makes four easily. He goes full caveman mode. I swear to god you can’t do anything around the house. He comes home with a bag full of pregnancy books and now every night before bed he sits there reading them.

From the moment you tell him, he loves to have his arms around you. Out having dinner with some of your friends, ii’s arm is wrapped around your middle as he pulls you closer to him, letting his palm rest on the slight swell there. “You’re good?”, he would ask a thousand times that night, “Want anything?”, you would look up smiling at him, shaking your head softly until your eyes fell on a fried snack plate the waitress was carrying to another table. “I’ll get you one”, he chuckles, raising his hand. “No, ii, we all just had dinner”, you whine, not wanting your slight craving to look outrageous. “It’s fine, boys are still having beers, trust me they will help you finish it”, he kisses the side of your head lovingly.

Yeah, nothing beats the joy of watching you kicking your feet happily as you munch on fried mac and cheese bites. After seeing you avoiding food the first month because of the nausea, now that you finally started craving things, he’s on high alert to make sure they all are satisfied. “Yn, these are yours”, iii pushes the rest of the mac and cheese balls your way. “Come on guys, eat”, you urge them. “Let me win cool uncle points here”, iii chuckles, making ii smile too. “I mean, hun, I can get you a pie”, iv chirps in, making you raise an eyebrow. “The salted caramel one we saw the other day”, he points out making you grunt, “yeah, that…”, you lick your lips. “We’ll stop on our way back”, iv winks your way, “I hate you”, iii shakes his head pushing Ivy slightly as everyone chuckles.

And then i beg you don’t get me started on how I think he would gently drum his fingers on your bump. Especially once the little one starts kicking. You’d be in bed reading or watching something on the sofa. II would lay on the side of you, pushing your shirt up, leaning down to leave a couple of kisses over your skin. Your fingers without a second thought move to run through his hair. You usually always left him to his antics. It was his way of bonding with the little one. After a hushed conversation, he would start tapping out beats. “So first or second one?”, he would ask quietly making you turn to him. Little foot pressing into where I’s fingers just was. “First one?”, he asks, tiling an eyebrow at your stomach. “What are you…”, “Shhhhh”, he waves his finger at you, making you giggle. “Okay, one more time”, he whispers, playing two somewhat similar runs. Giving time between each one. Earning a nice big kick after the first set. “Nice, I thought so too”, ii smiles, “Thanks peanut, dad needed that”, leaning in he presses a kiss to your tummy. “Can I be involved now?”, you snort slightly. “I couldn’t pick between two runs I wrote today for the song Vessel sent over”, he says all serious, “but our genius solved that for me”, you shake your head, “You are so down bad”, you chuckle. “I am and I am proud to be”, he pushes upwards giving you a loving kiss as well.

iii

When I tell you that this man is just so fucking excited. Like the first weeks where it’s just you two who know even if nice cause you live in your little bubble, the silence is killing him. So like he does end up telling the boys and you’re more than fine with that. He is giving deranged father as it is now it only gets worse.

He is thrilled to build the nursery. Does everything himself. From painting the walls to putting on a nice white trim. Building little bookshelves. Hanging little moons and stars from the ceiling. “You just sit there and look pretty”, he walks you to the armchair he had bought for you. One you had scolded him because it was fucking expensive but does he care? No, because you will be feeding your little one in that so only the best for you. “Iii”, you grunt, “i can help you know. Still have hands and can move them”, you frown. “I know you moved them quite alright this morning”, he chuckles and you slap his shoulder instantly, “you are unbelievable”. “Just rest up”, he cups your face leaning his forehead against yours, “You two can be in control of the instructions”, he kisses your cheek, brushing his hand over your bump. “Cause that’s so fucking fun”, you sigh. “Hey, no cursing in front of our child”, he points a finger at you playfully.

I feel like the baby would be so active whenever iii just sit around playing his bass around the house. You would be cleaning around in the kitchen, humming slightly to yourself when you hear the first cords. The kick nearly makes you bend over as you hold against the counter. “Okay, okay… we will go see what daddy is doing”, you cooed, rubbing your stomach as you wobbled into iii’s office. His eyes meet you immediately, “Is something wrong?”, “No, the little one is just having a dance party”, you chuckle sitting next to him. “Daddy’s not bad huh?”, iii chuckles leaning down to kiss your tummy, earning a nice big kick against his lips, “that’s some serious moves”, iii chuckles. “It’s your kid, have you seen yourself on stage?”, you snort leaning back against the sofa. “My long legs were never the problem”, he shakes his head. “Yeah, before you put a giant baby inside me”, you shot him an overly sweet smile.

“Mommy is grouchy, do you think we should give her a snack?”, iii muttered against your skin. “I thought so too”, he nods after another kick against his palm, “What do you feel like eating, darling?”, he asks softly. You watch him for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Apple cider doughnuts”, you muttered. “From the corner shop downtown?”, iii asks, and you simply nod. “On it, I’ll grab you a shake too”.

Ivy

Scared shitless. Would never admit it. I also don’t think he would be the first one to have a kid out of the whole group of his friends so he is going to them for advice but quite frankly everything does just fall into place naturally. He’s very big on keeping you healthy and happy. So your meds are left in a little ceramic plate for you to take in the morning. He’s your gym buddy now, don’t even try working out without him. He needs to have his eyes on you at all times. He also strikes me as someone who’s like if my partner can’t do that or eat/drink that while pregnant I’m also not participating. “You can have a beer, Ivy”, you whine, “I can, sure, but I don’t want to”, he shrugs, pulling you closer to him as he smiles down at you.

I also think he usually likes to keep his mornings early and active but now he just sleeps in with you. I feel like he would love these slow mornings where he would wake up to you still being asleep. Taking his time to admire you. Carefully moving his palm to rest on your stomach, drawing small circles. The kicks pull you out of your slumber. “Sorry, baby” " Ivy would mutter, “didn’t think I would wake bean up”, he’s nuzzling into your neck, kissing your cheek. “It’s okay” you yawn, loving the feeling of him so close. Cinnamon whining from the side of the bed making you both instantly turn to her.

“Someone’s feeling left out”, Ivy chuckles, tapping the side of the bed, “Gently”, he warns her as he jumps on, tail wiggling happily as she scoots in between you too. “Right, so I’m no longer invited into this bed”, ivy chuckles as Cinnamon curls around you, licking at your hands and arms. “She just loves mommy more”, you whisper, scratching her chin. Ivy shakes his head reaching for your tummy only to be met with a growl. “You didn’t just growl at me miss”, ivy gasps. “It’s okay, daddy, means no harm”, you kiss her softly. “Traitor”,’ Ivy shakes his head, “I was your father first”. You chuckle watching them both fighting over who gets to be closer to you.

[miniwheat77]

Anger. (141 x Reader.)

!cheating, violence, blood, guns, military talk, 141 is there for reader during hardship. NO MINORS!

*not edited*

Your hands shake violently as you sit on your couch.

You’re waiting for him to come home, you’ve got every bit of proof you need sitting in front of you.

You hear his car pull in the driveway, and you gather everything off of the table. Holding it in your hands. You hear his car beep as he locks it. The door opens and he steps inside, freezing when he sees you sitting there. The TV is off which is unusual. “Uh.. hey.” He says, confused.

“Come sit down.” You entwine your fingers together, resting your elbows on your knees. “Is.. everything okay?”

“Just sit down.” You sigh. You’re surprised when he listens. He sits down in the chair off to your right. You slide the hoop earrings from beside you and lay them out on the coffee table in front of you. “Who’s are those?” You ask. “I think they’re my sisters.”

You nod your head. Standing up. “Than I suppose these are hers too?” You raise the panties up, setting them down near the hoops. He stands up too. He knows he’s caught by this point, but hopes he can still weasel his way out of this. “Cause that’s pretty weird. But I’d get it, if I hadn’t found this too.” You throw down the burner phone. The one he’d been using to contact other women while you’ve been out on deployment. He’d been meeting up with random women for months now.

He’s quiet. “Y/N. Listen to me-“ he makes a move to touch you. You raise your shirt up, flashing him the pistol that lies in your waistband. “You come near me and I swear to god I’ll shoot you.” He takes a deep breath. Stepping back.

“Get out.” You cross your arms.

“Y/N. No. We need to talk about this!”

“There is absolutely nothing to talk about. I’m gonna get out of the lease, I’m moving out. Your name isn’t on it anyways, so get your shit and go. You have 10 minutes.” You sit down. He looks down. Knowing there’s nothing he can do to fix it. He gathers all of his stuff which isn’t much and as he’s passing the couch, he tries to start but you don’t acknowledge him.

The door opens and a girl walks inside, and you can feel the rage starting to boil inside you. “Who is that?” You turn to him. “Why do you care?” She makes her way inside closer, seemingly to help him carry his stuff out. “Looks like I’m your replacement.” She smiles. “Oh yeah? You’re proud of being a home wrecker?” You stand up. He can see you’re getting stiff, taking a step closer with your fists balled at your sides. A clear sign that if she doesn’t back off she’s going to leave in an ambulance. “Hey, come on. Don’t.” He tugs her back. “Nah, she’s stupid.”

“Oh, I’m stupid.” You laugh. “I’m not fighting over a cheater, he’s all fucking yours sweetheart.” You laugh.

“But you better remember who’s house you’re in.” You stand tall. “I don’t care.” She moves closer, getting into your face. Her nose is nearly touching yours.

“Hey! I said don’t!” He goes to pull her back. That’s when she takes a swing at you.

She hits you right in the nose and you take a step back, holding onto it. You can feel it starting to drip down your face. You wipe it off, seeing the blood on your hands. The hair on your body stands up. Maybe it’s what you’ve seen in the military triggering you. But she’s a threat. And threats get neutralized.

You lunge at her, taking a swing.

Training in the military means you pack a punch. You knock her back onto the ground and climb on top of her. You get a few good hits in, deciding you were done. You stand up, giving her a good kick to the ribs before drawing your pistol from your waistband and pointing it at your now ex-boyfriend. “You’re fucking stupid for bringing her here.” His hands are raised up in surrender.

He’s genuinely scared that you’re going to shoot him. “Get her and all of your shit. And if I hear one word, one fucking thing. You’ll both leave here in body bags.” You point the gun at her. Seeing tears start to stream from her eyes. “GO!” You scream. They both scramble, picking up his bags and leaving. You pace back and fourth, setting your gun down on the coffee table. You turn to the side. Taking a deep breath. You’ve trained to be in stressful situations. You kill people and watch innocent people die every day and you can’t take this.

You swipe everything off of the shelf by your tv. Destroying any and everything in your wake in your fit of rage. Your knuckles are bloodied and you’re sure you’ve got glass in them from the tv by the time you’re done. You slide your gun back into your waistband and hurry outside. Lifting your phone up. Your hands shake violently as you look for your captains contact. He would know what to do. He always did.

“Y/N?” He asks. “Hey.”

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” He asks.

“Uh.. well.” You laugh. Holding back the pain that seeps through your every pore. “Not really. Is it okay if I come back to base? I won’t need that week off after all.”

“I’ll see you in 10 sergeant.” He sighs. He could hear the pain in your voice. You can’t hide it from someone like him.

“Everything okay?”

The other 4 members of the task force sit around the oak table in the conference room. “No. Something happened. She’s on her way back to base.”

“Shit. I hope she’s okay.”

“She’s fine. She’s a fucking brick wall. Probably just that scumbag she’s with.”

You don’t think to clean up. Your upper lip and around your mouth have blood around it from the hit you took. Your knuckles are busted and bruised. You’re sure you look like shit. You speed to the base, you shouldn’t but you needed to get there. The only people you could even handle anymore are them. Your family. The only family you’ve ever had that give a shit about you.

After identifying yourself on base, you pull into the parking lot. Parking where you usually do. Next to Johnny’s truck. You lock your car up and make your way inside. You don’t know what awaits you. You don’t know what they’ll say or if you can even keep it together.

“Hey.” A voice drags you out of your thoughts. It’s Laswell.

“They’re waiting for you in the conference room sweetheart.” She smiles sympathetically. “Thank you Kate.” You smile. Your heart aches in your chest.

She would talk more, but she knows who you’re after. Your bothers.

You open the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself. “Shit- you okay?” Gaz stands up immediately. Soap follows suit. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Price beats him to it and he steps closer, tilting your face to get a good look at your nose. “It’s not broken but it’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch for a while.” He mumbles. “Did he do this?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Start talking.” He pushes you further up with his hand in your lower back. Helping you sit down in a chair. You sigh. He disappears out the door for a second, coming back with a washcloth. He washes the blood from your nose first, moving to your knuckles. It takes you a few minutes before you can talk without breaking down.

“I.. got home before he did. Found a phone on my coffee table.” You sigh. “It was.. a burner phone. He’d been using it for the last few months to meet up with other women online.” You look down. “Jesus.” Soap mumbles.

“Asshole.” Gaz groans.

“Prick from the start.” Ghost rolls his eyes.

All of their commentary makes you laugh. “I told him to pack his shit. He had a girl come help him move his shit and she sucker punched me. So I.. I guess I blacked out. I was on top of her, got a couple hits in. And than I-“ you freeze up, “I just told them to leave and they left.” You flinch slightly as he picks a piece of glass from your knuckle. “But.. maybe it’d be a good idea that someone keeps this for a couple days.” You tug your gun from your waistband, setting it down on the table.

Soap laughs. “I’ll keep it safe for ya lass.” He slides it closer to him. “Why do you say that?”

“Ah, it’s how I made em leave.” You mumble, looking down. Captain Price nods his head.

He nods his head to the door. “Boys, a minute?” He asks. The three of them stand up. Each patting you on the shoulder as they exit.

John licks his lips, he’s got your knuckles cleaned up. They need some bandaging but you’ll be alright. “You gonna be okay?” He asks. You nod your head. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.” You look down at your hands. “I’m gonna have to stop myself and the others. To not go track him down and disappear him.” He laughs. “I wouldn’t stop you.” You laugh. “Things haven’t been good. Obviously. I took a week off to see if we’d be able to work things out. Take some time to work on our stupid relationship and that backfired like a motherfucker.” You laugh. John shakes his head. “I hate to break it to you.. but that’s why none of us are in a relationship. Relationships and the military just don’t mix. I think just about every single one of us have been in your situation.” He sighs. You nod your head. “I think I’ve learned my lesson.” You laugh.

The room settles into a comfortable silence.

You break it.

“Something weird happened to me.” You mumble.

“Hm?”

“When she hit me, my nose started bleeding. And I wiped it off. When I seen I had blood on my hands.. my brain just got foggy. And I blacked out. Couldn’t control myself.” You look confused.

“It’s probably just the aftermath of our last mission. It was a pretty tough one on all of us. You know?” You nod your head. “It’s hard to adjust back to the real world when you’ve been out on the battlefield. You know how it goes. You’ll be alright though. The strongest girl I know.” He rests his hand on your knee. “Thank you Captain.”

“Hey, this is 141 we’re talking about. We got you, nothing to worry about. And this hardship, it’ll pass. Just like it always does. Your wounds will heal. Physical and Mental. You’ll be alright.” You nod your head. “I think you should get some rest for now, sweetheart. Get those bandaged up and head on to your room.” He pats your thigh. You smile, standing up. “Bloody knuckles and a broken heart aren’t good enough to get out of drills either, see you in the morning.”

“6am sharp Captain.”

“Good girl.”

[gyll-yee-haw]

I JUST FOUND YOUR ACCOUNT AGAINNN OH MY GODDDDDDDD I LOVE YOUR WORK SOOOO MUCH!! CAN YOU WRITE SOMETHING FOR DONNIE DARKO? 💕❤️

HIII, my sweet angel!!! <3

Anything you ask, my love, let's give our sweet boy some attention 😭🥺❤

Warnings: Donnie being a scared adorable baby. Unprotected sex, pain kink, dry humping, risk of getting caught, fluffy stuff...

---

You woke up to weird noises on your window. You opened your eyes, knowing exactly what you would find. It wasn't the first time Donnie broke into your room like that, but it still scared you every single time.

He usually did that so you could make out after both of your families were asleep. But at the moment you sat down, ready to ask him not to do that again without a warning, you realized those weren't his intentions at all.

He looked pale. Lost. He had dark bags under his terrified eyes. The scene was heartbreaking. He rushed to sit beside you on the bed and hugged you tightly.

"What happened?" You asked, very worried as you hugged him back.

"Frank wants me to do something really bad." He confessed. "I don't want to do it, Y/N…"

"Shit. Did you see Frank again?" You sighed. "Well, tell him you won't do it. He can't force you to, Donnie. You're a good, sweet and kind person."

"Frank never finds me when I'm with you." His fingers squeezed your arms strongly, like he was scared you would disappear and leave him lonely.

"Yeah, that big ass rabbit knows better than messing with me, I won't let him hurt my boyfriend." You shrugged.

Even on such a serious situation, you were able to make Donnie laugh. Well, it wasn't much more than a chuckle, but he seemed to relax a little.

"Come on." You told him. "We can cuddle until it goes away."

He removed his shoes to lay on his side. The two of you faced each other for a second. Then he got a little closer and you wrapped your arms around him, keeping his face buried on your chest and his soft hair brushing your chin.

"You're safe now." You said, kissing the top of his head.

He lifted his head to look at you and whispered: "I love you."

Your heart almost stopped. It was the first time he had ever said that to you. And that look in his eyes was so sincere... maybe it meant more than the words themselves.

"I love you too, Don." You smiled at him.

You were ready to go back to holding his tightly, but, before you could, he placed his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you for a kiss. A hungry one. He had so many emotions he needed to let out. He would never be able to tell you how grateful he was for you always being there, and not thinking that he was crazy. Well, he probably would be if it wasn't for you.

His hands ran through your body, ending on your butt, squeezing and pulling your hips closer to his at the same time.

He continued kissing you while his hips brushed yours until he started getting hard.

"Donnie…" You moaned into his mouth.

"Need you, baby." He told you, then quickly glued his lips to yours again, his hands going under your shirt and he began stroking your nipples very gently with his thumbs.

Your body melted under his touch and you ended up letting him do whatever he wanted to you. He kept rubbing his erection against you, and even though you were both still clothed, it drove you crazy. But only when he stopped caressing your nipples and started pinching them, was when you gave up: "Shit, Donnie… Fuck me."

He would let out one of those adorable laughs he had as you started taking your clothes off. But at the sight of your naked body craving his, he started undressing himself pretty quickly too.

You two were laying on your sides, facing each other, and he lifted one of your legs, resting it on his hips so he could have access to your entrance. He began stroking your folds and you couldn't see his face very well, because the room was dark, but you could feel that the patterns of his breathing changed. His heart was beating faster.

He grabbed his cock and entered you at once. You bit your lip to control yourself, but he moaned loudly.

"Shhh…" You whispered. "Calm down, if anyone hears us…"

"I know, sorry." He chuckled. "But you feel so good, it's hard to…"

"Well, keep your mouth busy." You smirked.

He didn't understand it at first, but you took your hand to the back of his head, guiding his mouth to the crook of your neck.

He grabbed your hips and started pulling you down on his cock. It wasn't very fast, but it was so deep, and so good.

As he kept doing it, your fingers held to his hair very tightly, pulling it a little too hard. You weren't doing it only to control your moans, you knew Donnie absolutely loved the pain. You could tell by the way his teeth digged deeper in your skin every single time.

You pulled his body as close to yours as possible and whispered in his ear: "Harder, baby, please… make me cry.", followed by bitting his earlobe hard enough to leave a purple mark.

He absolutely lost it.

He flipped you over, so now you were under him and started thrusting faster inside you. His face buried on the pillow beside your head and you could hear the muffled sound of him screaming "FUCK FUCK FUCK".

He came hard, but kept thrusting until you came too, your walls clenching around him until his last drop was finally inside you.

His body collapsed on top of yours and you wrapped your arms securely around him again.

You kept stroking his back until you felt him relax completely. Maybe a little too much. He fell asleep.

You didn't have the heart to wake him up. He was exhausted. What if he saw Frank again? It would be better for him to spend the night, even if that increased the risk of you getting caught.

You would risk anything to make him feel safe.

[itoshiexx]

make my way back (to you)

synopsis: after an argument that leaves doubts about the future of the relationship, the last thing you expected was your boyfriend rin coming to your doorstep to apologize.

pairing: itoshi rin x gn!reader | words: 1k | warnings: established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff, making up after an argument, implied exes to lovers (?)

notes: hey guys! this fic is inspired by this list of kiss prompts, where @ode2rin chose prompts number 3, 11 and 38 for our bbg rin. i really wanted to try this out and mimi was kind enough to help by choosing some prompts <3 i dedicate this to you, mimi, hope you like it!

masterlist

“i’m sorry.”

to say you were shocked was an understatement. 

out of all the things itoshi rin could ever say to you, this was the last option you would expect. after eight months of dating, you were well aware that rin was not the type of person to apologize — mostly, he would pretend nothing happened and try to move on with your life as a couple, even if that usually rubbed salt in your wounds. 

though you could only endure so much of this behavior, and one day the thread finally snapped. the argument was the worst you ever had, leaving both of you with sore throats, teary eyes and doubt about the aftermath of your relationship.

so it was quite a shock to see him on a saturday night at your doorstep, all sweaty and breathing heavily as if he just ran there. you were sitting snugly in your pajamas, watching your comfort show on the tv with a tub of ice cream, trying really hard not to think if your relationship would still continue, when the doorbell rang and revealed such a sight. 

“i’m sorry,” he says again, breaking you from your stupor.

“rin, what are you doing here?” you finally find your voice to ask. “i thought you said…”

“i was wrong,” he interrupts, and your jaw drops again. not only was he apologizing, but recognizing his mistakes? 

he must see the incredulous look on your face, because he sighs and pinches the space between his brows with his fingers. this was way harder than it looked.

“i know what you’re thinking,” he continues, “but at the end, the answer is always the same: i love you.” your breath hitches. “i love you so much that i rather sacrifice my pride and overcome my fear of vulnerability than lose you because i can’t fucking apologize. and i’m shit at it, i know, but i’m… i’m trying. for you.”

your fingers that still hold the doorknob tremble, and you are pretty sure your eyes are welled up with unshed tears. you never thought this day would come, but here it was. 

rin was trying, and that was all you ever wanted from him. 

“i should have said earlier. all those times we argued and i was wrong, i… i should have said i was sorry, because i was. every time. i just didn’t— shit, i didn’t know how. i still don’t.”

he laughs a little, but it sounds strangled and full of pain. you decide you don’t like it. “maybe this is terrible, but i really hope it’s the thought that counts—”

“rin,” it’s your time to interrupt. his body goes stiff and he goes silent, gulping. 

“yeah?” it’s a meek little sound. he thinks it’s a bit pathetic.

but then you lunge forward, lacing your arms around his neck. your voice is nothing but a breathy demand when you say, “kiss me.”

and rin finally feels like he can breathe again. 

his left hand holds your waist tightly, as if you could disappear at any moment, and his right one cups your cheek in a loving gesture that leaves your legs trembling. then, his mouth is on yours, delicate, gentle, like you are the most precious thing he has the pleasure to hold. 

he kisses you like he’s scared to let go, prodding his tongue inside your mouth wanting to commit your shape to memory, twirling through every crevice and corner he can find. he is licking your lips like a man starved, sighing with ecstasy every time they welcome him further, because rin knows you are the closest thing to paradise he will ever find and that he’s not worthy of such heaven.

and he really hopes his kiss can convey everything he can’t manage to say. that you can feel on every inch of his plump lips that they are only meant to say your name, and that his tongue only wants to feel your taste. 

you do. 

when you finally part, faces flushed and breaths short, the smile that adorns your face is enough to soothe any of rin’s concerns, and he can’t help the little whisper of “i love you,” that comes out of his mouth before giving yours one last peck, chaste and full of veneration.

“i love you, too,” you say, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “and i forgive you.”

rin sighs in relief, “thank god.”

your giggle is like music to his ears, and he feels his heart grow tenfold with the way you’re shining under the dim moonlight. sometimes rin believes you can not be from this earth, because only something unworldly could make him feel so full of love to the point he could barely breathe.

you step inside your apartment, bringing him with you. “let’s go to bed, shall we?” your words are slightly laced with sleepiness, and he thinks you’re adorable; so ethereal even with your slightly disheveled hair, so he only nods. together, you walk the familiar path towards your bedroom, where you lay in bed and melt in each other’s arms.

it’s a little bit like a puzzle, you think, the way you and rin fit so well. it makes you feel safe and relaxed, and there is no other place in this world you’d rather be. it’s no surprise you fall asleep so quickly.

your eyes are already closed, but he whispers nevertheless, “goodnight, baby”. 

when morning comes and the sun seeps through the blindfolds, rin can feel you even before he opens his eyes. your groggily murmur his name, and then your lips touch his nose. 

“not your lips.” he can hear you pouting. “mornin’, baby.”

you try again, eyes closed, trying to find his mouth by tracing his face with your nose. you kiss his cheek, his chin and even the corner of his lips until rin finally has enough. 

even without seeing you, his mouth makes its way to yours easily, just like rin would always make his way back to you.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

if you like my writing and would like to support me, you can 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ! any amount is welcomed and very appreciated! ♥

[moonstruckme]

Steve Harrington!! We love him!!

I’d love to request established relationship fem!reader passing out. I just know Steve would be so loving and caring🫶🏼

Thanks for requesting babe! He is so loving and caring...in his own way <3

cw: reader passes out, mention of skipping meals

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“Hey, hey!” Steve taps your face frantically, tone accusatory as if you’ll wake up if you know you’re in trouble. “Y/n, come on.” 

You’ve been working in the garden all afternoon. After weeks of complaining about the pests that had been eating your tomatoes, you’d finally found a free day to plant marigolds to keep them away. Steve thought he’d win Boyfriend of the Year by making a pitcher of lemonade for you, but when he’d called you and you’d turned around, you no sooner stood up than you went back down. 

“Babe, hey.” Your eyes move behind your eyelids, and he looses a breath, patting your cheek a couple more times until they peel open. 

You look frighteningly out of it, eyes squinty and unfocussed as they move over your surroundings before settling on Steve. 

“What?” you ask, like he’s woken you up for no good reason. 

“You okay?” He shuffles closer to you on the ground. He feels heart-twistingly guilty about not being quick enough to catch you, but thankfully you’d crumpled to the side, onto the soft grass, so he’s hoping you haven’t hurt yourself too badly. Still, he can’t move you until he knows for sure. At his question, you only blink sluggishly. “Hey,” he tries again, urgent. “Does anything hurt?” 

“I don’t…” Your face scrunches confusedly. “I don’t think so.” 

“Okay, okay.” That’s good enough for Steve. He slides a careful hand under your head, feeling for blood or bumps. When he doesn’t find any, he brings it into his lap, grabbing the cup he’d set on the ground after running to you. “Here, have—have some lemonade.”

Miraculously, there’s still some liquid that hasn’t sloshed out. Your first sip is tentative, but you drink greedily after that, a thin rivulet missing the corner of your mouth and running down your cheek. Steve swipes it away before it can drip off your chin, bringing his hand to your forehead to cover your eyes from the sun.

“Jesus, babe, are you trying to kill me? What happened?” 

“M’not sure.” Your voice comes out a bit clearer as you lower the cup, eyes blinking open further now that you’re not squinting against the light. “I just got really hot, all of a sudden. Did I pass out?” 

“Yeah.” Steve tries to position his head so it’s blocking the sun, using his hand to brush dirt and grass from the side of your face. “You fell pretty hard, honey.”

“Sorry.” 

A funny little laugh startles out of him. “Yeah, you fucking should be.” Steve shakes his head, squishing your cheek meanly with his thumb, both of you sticky with sugar and soil. “You scared the shit out of me, idiot. Are you sure you’re not hurting anywhere?” 

You frown. “My head sort of hurts.” 

Steve’s blood runs cold. “Yeah?” he asks, already probing at the side that had hit the ground with panicky, perhaps less-than-gentle fingers. 

“Mm, but just, like, a headache,” you say, discomfort evident in your tone. “It’s not bad.” 

Steve finds that to be of little consolation. “C’mon, let’s go inside,” he says, helping you sit up before wrapping an arm under your shoulders to support you as you walk. You seem perfectly capable, now, almost back to normal if a little disoriented, but he’s not taking any chances. 

He sets you onto the couch and you all but dissolve into the cushions, pressing your face to the cool pillow while he goes to get more lemonade from the kitchen. He detours to grab some painkillers too. (Those might be a bad idea if whatever’s going on with you turns out to be serious, but he can’t think past making you feel better right now. If painkillers do that, fuck everything else.) You take them both gratefully, sitting up again to gulp down the contents of the cup. Steve presses the back of his hand to your sweaty forehead. It doesn't seem hot enough outside for heatstroke, but you never know. Thankfully, you seem normal, though you lean into his cool touch with an adorable little sigh. 

“I’m gonna make you something to eat,” he tells you, taking your cup for a refill. “PB and J sound okay?” 

“Yes, please.” Your voice follows him into the kitchen, and he relaxes a bit at the far more familiar sound of it, less waver in your tone. Maybe the drink and air conditioning are doing you good. “Sorry, Stevie, I don’t know what happened.” 

“Have you been drinking water?” he asks, getting a plate down from your cabinets and setting the bread on it.

“Yeah,” you sound confused. A bit defensive, too. “I brought a water bottle out with me, I’ve been drinking from it the whole time.” 

That’s true, Steve had seen it sitting upright in the grass next to you. “Maybe one water bottle wasn’t enough,” he suggests. “You were out there for a while.” 

“It’s not that hot out,” you argue, but you sound unsure. 

He huffs though he doesn’t disagree, slathering the jelly side of your sandwich thicker, the way you like it. “What’d you have for lunch?” 

There’s a pause. “A banana.” 

“No, you had that for breakfast. I was there.” He finishes with your sandwich, putting his supplies back where they came from. “I meant what’d you have for lunch?” 

You’re quiet, and when Steve turns the corner with your PB&J, you’re already looking over at him, your expression sheepish. 

His next exhale is huffy with exasperation. “Oh, you asshole,” he says, even as relief floods through him. At least this, he knows what to do about. “You are trying to kill me!” 

“I’m sorry, I forgot!” Your voice pitches as he stalks closer, almost laughing when he dumps your plate unceremoniously in your lap. “I really just forgot, Stevie, I would never try to kill you.” 

“You’re just trying to make me go gray in my prime, is that it?” He shakes his head, but your smile has always been contagious, and his lips start to curve against his will. “Just eat your sandwich.” 

You take a bite obediently, humming in satisfaction. “This is really good, baby. Thank you.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’ll bet it is.” 

“Steve?”

He grunts. 

“Could I have a kiss, please?” 

He looks over, and you’re giving him the eyes. Those sweet, never-did-nothing-to-nobody, beautiful eyes. And, well, he’s hopeless for them. 

“Yeah, fine.” He leans over, still careful as he sets a hand on your face to tilt you towards him. You taste of sweetness, lemonade and strawberry jam and your cherry chapstick. Steve samples it once, twice, three times, before drawing back. “I’m gonna cut you up some fruit, okay?” he says softly, thumb sweeping across your cheek. “Stay put.”

“You’re such a mom,” you tease as he starts back towards the kitchen. 

“Keep talking like that,” he threatens, “and I’ll cut off kisses completely.”