#but I hate the way I’m supposed to love you back

[caramelkoo]

no questions asked— jjk

Jeon jungkook wants nothing more than to get settled with his girlfriend, but what if her fear of commitment makes him take a step back? Will he do it, or will he be able to changer her mind for good?

pairing : Jungkook X reader

genre : established relationship, smut, fluff

word count : 6.6k (im begging for forgiveness)

Based on this ask <33

warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature, oc is an anxious girly (same), mentions of emotionally unavailable parents, jungkook is a man of dreams, simp boyfriend jungkook, car sex, unprotected sex (be safe), begging, reference of titanic if you squint, yeah that's pretty much it.

a/n : this took million business days lmao but finally it's here. the sweetest anon requested a drabble but i couldn't do it and as much as i tried to make it shorter, it got stretched to 6k words 😭 so im deeply sorry anon. the rest of you who enjoy longer fics, dig in. I love you guys so much, you might not know this but yall are my besties for resties. kisses. 💌

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Your boyfriend is going to propose to you.

Oh god

Oh. my. God.

Anxiety is not a foreign feeling for you. Although this time, it’s an indescribable sort. Something which is lingering in the deepest pit of your stomach for a lack of better word. Besides, there’s a mayhem inside your head, the voices are loud and intimidating, causing you to bite your lip to a point where they bleed while also staring at nothing. 

Jungkook has been nothing but secretive— the poor boy has no idea that you have already seen the navy blue box sitting inside his side of the drawer. You can swear it was totally unintentional.

In your defense, you had been searching for your glasses and that was the only place left to fish around. Nobody could have prepared you for the utter shock when your eyes fell on that box and so for a minute or two you just stood there, horrifyingly still and stunned. However, you recovered quickly, because to be quite honest it was about time one of you mustered up enough courage to ask the question.

It’s supposed to make you thrilled right? So why does something feel… off? 

“Penny for your thoughts?”, as soon as Cherry’s voice reaches your ears, you snap out of it and flash her a forced smile. 

“Yeah-” you begin, “Yeah uh- I’m just thinking about nothing in particular.” 

“_____ you’re an amazing girl but you gotta work on those lying skills.”

A chuckle leaves your mouth. You shouldn’t even have bothered in the first place, the girl can read you like a book. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours huh?” 

She picks up the book before scanning it with the barcode scanner all the while you marvel if you should tell her or just let it go, but then you also know how she would become a pain in the ass if you don’t spill the beans to her. Anyway, she can;t make you overthink it any more than you already have. 

You bite your lower lip before saying, “I feel like Jungkook is going to propose.” 

If looks alone could kill, you would have been buried deep by now with the way the man wearing an olive green cardigan, probably in his 50s, gives you side eye when Cherry drops the book with a loud thud on the counter. 

You wince.

“I’m sorry what?” 

When you subtly signal her to pick what she’s dropped, she takes a hold of the book, apologizes to the man who— you’re hundred percent sure hates your guts now, and resumes her work. 

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Ha! Girl you better start telling me more or none of us are going home today.”

She’s talking to you but her hands keep shuffling between scanning the books and expeditiously typing on the keyboard.

A spark of hesitation finds a way inside your heart. The thing is, you’re not sure. Do you want to marry the love of your life? Absolutely. Do you think you can keep the marriage going and stable? No. 

There you said it.

And that kills you because jeopardising your bond and connection with Jungkook is the last thing you want to do.

Maybe, it’s because nobody in your family has been able to keep their inner spark alive after they had gotten married or you might as well blame it on the relationship your own parents have had before your eyes. 

For everyone who couldn’t see past the walls of your house, your parents were an ideal couple. A pair who were equally efficient and successful in their respective areas of life. With your father being a renowned businessman and your mother holding the title of a world famous fashion designer, they couldn’t have been a better partner for each other, right?

Wrong. Too bad you had the honor of being an onlooker of their facade slipping away before getting replaced by their real impudent selves. 

But that’s all you could do though. You were merely just an audience. Someone who could see everything shatter before her eyes and not do a single thing to put an end to it. 

Constant fights, fuming with jealousy over one of them achieving more than the other, sabotaging each other.

All hell broke loose when they began making you take sides. 

You think mommy is better don’t you, honey?

You should be proud of your dad, ____. You’re living such a luxurious life thanks to me. 

For the love of god you were five. What does a five year old know about luxury or human ego? What could you have possibly known about who is better? In your eyes, they were your mom and dad and not some squish mellows placed side by side from which you had to take your pick. Let’s not even start with the emotional unavailability they provided you with.

A knot lodges in your throat and you struggle to get the words out. “I happen to see the box inside his drawer”

“You’re sure it had a ring inside- Wait, don't answer that”, she shakes her head as if she just asked the most ridiculous question ever.

No shit.

“But that’s a good thing right? I mean you guys have been seeing each other for a while now and marriage is the final stop.” she continues and you can’t help but feel terrible, because she is making sense. 

A sigh leaves you, “Yeah no- I mean yeah it is but I didn’t expect him to take the initiative so suddenly. No hints were dropped at all. Marriage is, gosh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but it seems intimidating to me.” 

The queue has finally dissipated at this point so she faces you fully showcasing her engrossment in your dilemma. The girl feeds off drama but refuses to get involved in one.

Her expression morphs into something between horrified and sympathetic. “_____, is that because of your parents?” 

Your heart skips a beat. This whole time you and only you had authority over this thought that your fear of marriage is deeply rooted in your own parents’ fucked up relationship. A belief that lay sly and unseen.

Only after those words left Cherry’s mouth did you realise how venomous they sound. It makes you aware that the fear was not as concealed as you intended to keep it. What are you supposed to do when you find out that somebody else knows about your deepest terrors? Run? Hide? Or simply not say anything? 

Your mouth feels suddenly dry. “What?” 

Cherry takes a hold of your palm and rubs it gently, “If it is, I want you to know that it’s not the case for everyone. Marriage is a beautiful concept, a lovely commitment. Are there some pitfalls to it? Yes. But that’s the beauty of it. The way two people come together and resolve them-”

Your phone buzzes inside your pocket causing you to flinch. Releasing your hands from her hold, you take it out and see your grandmother’s number stare up at you. 

“I’ll just be back.” you excuse yourself just as a woman places a stack of books on the counter.

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“Hey, beautiful” you greet her, a smile lighting up your entire face.

“My baby, did I catch you at the wrong time?” her voice is like a balm to your heart. So warm and comforting. It reminds you of your movie nights with her where you didn’t have to be anything or pretend. You just had to exist and she made it worth it. Always. 

“Now you know even the devil himself can’t stop me from talking to you.” 

A loud chortle reaches your ears and you imagine her throwing her head back, laughing. 

“I was calling to ask if you and your eye candy of a boyfriend are visiting home this year for thanksgiving, dear?” 

Dear lord, you can’t believe you forgot about that.

Your eyes widen, and just when you think you could bubble up some other lie, she speaks up, “You forgot, didn’t you?” 

Yeah, bold of you to assume you can do that and get away. You actually need to work on your lying skills. For whatever reason. You want to pluck your eyelashes out one by one because of how gloomy she sounds.

“I’m genuinely sorry, grams.” pinching the bridge of your nose you continue, “I’ve just been busy with work and barely making ends meet. I promise this is the first and last time I let it slip my mind.” 

With the job you have, there’s only so much cash you can count and while you would love to make a career out of writing, the thought of publishing your own book sends shivers down your spine.

Every time you open the draft a new mistake pops up, taking a percentage of your self confidence down the drain. You’re only human. A microscopic slip catches your attention and you start questioning your life choices. 

“Honey, come home and give yourself some time off, what do you youngsters like to call it? Oh yes, grind. Yeah?” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Wow someone has been too into love island lately.”

Cherry raises her eyebrows from across the room and you mouth her the word ‘grandma’. She nods with a smile on her face, going back to work. 

A long stretch of silence hangs in the air before you hear her ask, “_____, what else is wrong?” 

The smile which has been adorning your face this whole time instantly drops. You blink.

Once

Twice

Thrice 

“I don’t understand.” Liar.

“You know what I mean, baby. I want you to tell me more, because I know something has been bothering you. What is it?”

Humans are so funny sometimes. They can be as close to you as your own soul and not have a hint of your torment. Meanwhile, there is your grandmother, who despite being so far away from you just….. knew. But again, it has always been like this hasn’t it? 

Whenever you got tired of your parents throwing stuff around the house, making each other lick the floors, trying to make their own and your life a living hell, she knew. 

She was the one who allowed you to cry, and assured you that she would not call you dramatic if she happened to hear your sobs.

You were allowed to cry,

You were allowed to ask for help,

You were allowed to not hold back.

Sucking in a deep breath, you release it, “Everything else is perfect, grams.”

Mr William is always the first person to greet you everyday when you reach the apartment. He’s been working as a guard for years now and you’ve grown quite familiar with him. While being the sweetest man you’ve ever come across, he also brings his wife’s yummiest tarts for you whenever she makes them. Arguably, they deserve more hype than they get.

“She knows how much you love her tarts” he says, making you feel immense gratitude towards his kindness. 

This particular night, he seems…. restless. He’s shifting from one foot to another as you shut the cab’s door behind you. Striding over to him, you mentally try your best to figure out his uneasiness. 

Clearing your throat, your throat as you ask, “Is everything alright, Mr William?” 

Only after he hears your voice, he gains his composure. Or so he tries. 

He hands you a piece of paper which feels a bit wet and you wonder what could have been so intense that the man began having clammy palms.

It’s nearly concerning, not to mention it doesn’t help with your own anxiety at all. If not, shoot it up. 

“Your boyfriend dropped by around lunch time, miss. He handed me this and asked me to give it to you as soon as you come back from work.”

He couldn’t have given it to you yesterday when he was with you in the first place? Weird.

“I see, but why are you so tense? Has something happened?” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “My wife has been sick and I was supposed to leave early but I figured it would be better if I gave it to you safely before going home to her.” 

Fuck

“You could have given this to me later. Your wife comes first, sir.” you gulp, “Please, I appreciate your gesture but she needs you more. Thank you so much and please let me know if I can be of help.”

He releases an empty chuckle. “Thank you, Miss” 

With one last nod you walk inside the building while also hoping he doesn’t call you for help. Not because you won’t do anything it takes to help him, but because you hope it wouldn’t come to it. The moment you shut the apartment door behind and turn on the light, the piece of paper steals your attention. Without waiting any further, you unfold it, coming across Jungkook’s writing. 

The note alone feels like he whispered it into your ear before placing the softest kiss on your skin. Your lips stretch into a serene smile as you stride over to the bedroom, turning the doorknob as your gaze catches a purple bodycon resting on top of your bed. It is accompanied with a bouquet of pink tulips as well as a bar of Dubai chocolate. 

Your head that has been nothing short of a commotion is now finally at peace. Not entirely but at peace nonetheless.

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Jungkook was 12 when he went on his first roller coaster ride. He was, like every other child, afraid. Afraid that he might fall and hurt himself so bad, he wouldn’t ever be able to get up. The roller coaster had a massive drop followed by a corkscrew which took him upside down. Until the moment Jungkook saw a woman in yellow dress buying a bunch of tulips from the flower shop he very often visited, he had never felt his stomach bottom out as strongly as it did during that drop back then.

There she was, chatting with the florist as if they’re best friends. He could see her behind the glass picking out the pink tulips before sniffing them. Meanwhile, Jungkook stood across the road, soaked and enchanted as he wondered if he should ask for her number or chicken out. Eventually, the latter won. 

But here’s the thing, Jungkook is not one for losing. He hates losing, even the term makes him want to peel his own skin off. 

He saw her hair first, becoming curly locks reaching down to her waist and just above her hips. Granted that his line of sight only allowed him to see her side profile, he assumed she was gorgeous. It was not unlikely for him to see beautiful women on a daily basis, but something about her just sucked him in. His eyes could not leave her face and he believed even if they tried, he would pluck them out just to punish them. Was it weird that his hands itched to hold a woman he doesn’t even know? 

What’s her name?

Where does she live?

What’s her favorite color?

How does she like her coffee?

There’s a japanese phrase called koi no yokan which means that you eventually will fall in love with a person you meet. You’re going to grow so fond of that person that you would want to see no one by your side but them. She was that person for him. 

He rubs his hands for the nth time in a futile attempt to warm them up, waiting outside ____’s building. How is this evening going so slow? He has been here for perhaps half an hour now, so why does it feel like it’s been a decade? 

And funnily enough, the only person who can put him out of his misery is _____. At this point, the guy fears he wouldn’t be able to so much as look her in the eye, but not doing that will be the end of him too.

He looks down and lets his hands run over his black button down shirt, wondering if she would like it. She loved seeing him in black on the first date. A loud click clack of heels grab his attention, perking his ears up. He looked up and there she was in all her glory. 

Jungkook releases a breath and rubs his chest as if his heart hurts. As if it’s telling him how unworthy he is of this woman who is walking up to him, who may be as nervous as him but still chose him as her man. 

The woman who could have anyone she wanted wrapped around her pinky finger gave her days, nights and evenings to him. She smiled at him, for him and if he was lucky, because of him.

_____ stops before him while he’s still adjusting to the sight of her. “How do I look?” 

Unreal, exquisite and way out of his league.

He shakes his head from side to side, thinking of a single word that would suffice the answer to that. He fails and so instead he runs his fingers down her forearm until he reaches her soft hands and takes it into his own cold ones. 

Placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles, he begins. “My imagination of you in this dress has got nothing on this vision.” 

Her face morphs into the softest expression of love, “And exactly how many times have you imagined me in this dress, Jeon Jungkook?” 

He takes a step forward, his chest almost touching hers. “I can’t answer that. You want to know why?” 

“Why?” Her voice is emotionless. His thumb grazes her lower lip as he tries not to smudge her nude lipstick. “Because if I do, we’ll have to go back into your apartment and try not to wake your neighbours up.” She swats his chest and softly pushes him back, dissolving into a giggle. 

“You’re looking quite handsome yourself.” she says as her eyes shamelessly check him out. His sleeves are halfway folded stopping just below his elbow, beautifying his tattooed forearms.

He’s also wearing his favorite blue baggy jeans with his usual black chunky boots. The same ones he goes for when he knows _____ might not be able to bear the pain caused by her heels, so he ends up swapping them with the boots.

He would argue carrying her all the way to her apartment instead, but settles elseways. 

Jungkook opens the car door for her and only after she’s well seated, he runs to his side and takes off. 

The ride to the restaurant is quiet despite the obvious tension that doesn't go unnoticed by either him or her. As much as he would like to spend the rest of the night snuggled into bed with her, he knows there is something more significant than that. So instead he indulges in caressing her thigh. 

“After you, angel.” He places a hand on the small of her back. 

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The ambience looks straight out of the movies. Like a paradise. Violinists are playing a chorus of Fuck her gently by Tenacious D far across the room. 

Jungkook catches an unknown look on her face. “Something’s wrong?” 

She shakes her head, flashing him a smile. “I love this song.”

He places a tiny kiss on her temple. “I know, baby. C’mon.” 

You know how women have this killer instinct of knowing if and when somebody’s watching them? It’s like they have a separate pair of googly eyes on the back of their head to protect them from creeps. 

From the moment you have entered the place, the man in the wine shirt has been making a hole in your face with the way he’s been staring at you. 

Is your dress too revealing? Are you showing too much skin?

“Oh I forgot to tell you. Your grandmother called earlier today.” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. 

You gulp down the last piece of steak before answering. “Let me guess she asked you to join her for thanksgiving?” He nods, a bright smile on his face. “I told her I would love to.” 

A cheeky smile unfurls slowly on your face. Jungkook loves your grandmother. Maybe a little bit more than you do. Just a tiny bit though. Last year when you and he visited her, he was the first person apart from you to get a hug out of her.

Your grandma is not much of a hugger by the way. Her hugs are totally exclusive. 

“I’m sure she loves having my ‘eye candy of a boyfriend’ there.” 

Jungkook snorts, placing his fork down. “She called me an eye candy?” 

He dissolves into a fit of laughter when you answer his question with a nod. 

“See now that’s the biggest achievement I have had in a while. I mean what are the odds your wife’s grandma calls your an eye candy-”

Something sours in your stomach. The steak here tastes awful or maybe it’s just you feeling pathetic that as soon as he says ‘wife’ your expression morphs into something so dreadful that it causes him to stop. What are the odds that you just gave him a reality check and dragged him out of a fool’s paradise?

“Angel, what’s-” 

You stand abruptly, cutting him off yet again. His eyes bob all over you, and then a sad frown puckers between his brows. 

“I’ll just be back. I need to use the washroom.” You say as you grab your handbag as quickly as you can before leaving him there. Confused and wondering what the fuck just happened?

Few minutes later, just as you’re walking outside the washroom and making a way towards your table someone’s voice causes you to stop midway. 

“Excuse me.” 

Turning to face the person, you come face to face with the same man from earlier. The one wearing a wine colored shirt along with a nasty expression. You believe he’s trying to look cocky but is failing miserably.

“Can I help you?” 

A slow smile spreads over his mouth. “I couldn’t help but notice that the man you’re here with seems to upset you in some way.”

An awkward chuckle leaves you. “The man is my boyfriend and I don’t think it concerns you if he’s upsetting me or not.” 

He walks a little closer. Oh no, this is bad. 

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, “But clearly he’s not being a good boyfriend, is he?” 

The audacity of this man.

You huff out a frustrated breath, “Listen, you need to shut up and stay within your limits. It’s not healthy going around poking your nose into everyone’s business.” 

His sly smile grows even more as he steps closer than before. 

The hair on your body stands up, and not in a good way, but in a very uncomfortable way. You suddenly regret the idea of leaving Jungkook’s side. Bad, bad decision. 

Currently, you have two options. You can either just walk off and act like nothing happened, which by the way, is a safe option or you can kick the man in the balls and then act like nothing happened.

Since you're much more accustomed to the former option, you decide to do just that but when his hands grip your wrist with an iron grip, you settle on the latter. 

You knee him between the legs with an intention to hurt him as he grunts in pain, his hands gripping where you just kicked him. 

“You fucking bitch.” 

Before he can say anything further, you storm off. Your phone buzzes inside your handbag and you automatically assume it to be Jungkook’s call. As soon as you spot him across the room, you feel the clouds parting, there’s a feeling threatening to arise. It’s something between protected and anguished. 

Anguished because you let your mind speak so deafeningly that it silenced the oh so loud love Jungkook has for you. And protected because you know for a fact that if he had any idea about what that man just did to you, he would not think twice before dragging him by the hair before bringing him to his knees in front of you to apologize. 

He stands once he sees you and you waste no time running towards him. Your arms go around him as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. His arms immediately embracing you in return, securing you against his chest.

It feels warm.

Concern laces his voice as he says, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Breathe” 

You don’t even realise you’re panting unless he says that. You’re aware that at this point the way you flung yourself at him must have got everyone’s attention. But you genuinely don’t care. It might as well be an auditorium full of people watching you hug your boyfriend like an anchor, you just don’t care. 

You realise that’s exactly what Jungkook is. Your anchor. Someone who didn’t even ask as to what happened before he straight away began consoling you. 

His hand envelops the back of your head in a protective way while the other soothes your back. 

“Do you want to leave? We can leave right now if you want to.”

“Yes, please.”

His body shakes as though he just nodded. “All right, let me pay real quick and we’ll leave yeah?”

Your voice is muffled against his chest. “Yeah.”

You suck in a sharp breath as he lets you go. The small folder on the table grabs your attention. He opens it only to find a note inside of it saying— “It’s on me, gorgeous”. 

You can see the wheels in his mind turning, but before he starts asking you any questions which may or may not cause a breakdown of yours, you say, “I’ll explain it to you outside. Can we please go?” 

“Let me see wh-”

“Please?” He lets out a defeated sigh and nods. “Yeah- Yeah let’s go.” 

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At first when Jungkook saw that note, the first emotion that he felt was rage and a very serious one at that. But it was soon replaced by realization. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out that something nasty went down after _____ left to use the washroom. Something he can’t wait to get to the bottom of. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her to be pressured to answer the more obvious question. 

Jungkook’s girl is attractive. She’s kind and empathetic and fucking stunning which makes her worthy of all the attention she gets. Of course men are going to want to be with her. 

Initially, it bothered him. A lot. 

Now, though? He’s grown rather used to it. However, it has never come to having someone pay for her in a restaurant. Even the thought of someone so much as speaking to her in an inhumanely manner makes him want to punch a hole through a wall. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The silence is too loud inside the car. He can hear ____’s heart beating loudly or is it his own?

She’s leaning back with her head against the headrest. When she doesn’t respond, Jungkook speaks again, “_____ baby, will you please at least look at me?” 

Her eyes connect with his and he flashes her the softest of smiles.

Taking her hand, he kisses the inside of her wrist where he can feel her pulse. 

Thump thump thump. 

“I want you to give me something, angel. Anything.” 

He can see her gulp before admitting, “There was um… there was a guy outside the washroom and he kind of tried to force himself on me,” she closes her eyes for a brief moment, “Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but I handled him.” 

Jungkook’s stomach drops. He was right. His hands fly out to open the car door before _____ holds him back. “Don’t. I said I handled it.”

He turns back, his voice leaking with anger along with something more barbaric. “And I’m proud that you did, but if I don’t go in and beat that asshole into a new one I won’t be able to call myself a man worthy of you anymore. I need him to know that he can’t fuck with my girl and go about his goddamn day.” “Jungkook, please. I can’t take it anymore. Please stop.” 

And he does. For now. 

He leans back, running his hands over his face with frustration. For a few minutes he and ____ just stare outside the front glass of the car. The parking lot slowly gets empty as people leave for their homes one by one. 

Just when he thinks  _____ has dozed off, her voice reaches him. “Can I get one more hug?” 

“Come here.” 

He takes her into a warm embrace before kissing the top of her head, settling his lips there. His anger has yet not fully dissipated, but having her so close calms his heart. It calms his whole being. Her touch, her breath against his skin, her presence heals something in him.

Therefore, he made up his mind about spending his whole life with her. The little slip of words, which by the way was totally unintentional, soured _____'s expression and that didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

She’s scared but he fully intends to let her know that she doesn’t have to.

______ unwraps herself from his arms and pushes back. Just enough for their noses to touch.

She shakes her head, “Don’t give me those eyes.” 

Jungkook holds back a smile. “What eyes, angel?” 

“The same ones you give me when you want something dirty to happen. Those big brown eyes of yours.”

He lets a chuckle slip out. “I’m down if you are.” 

When she offers him her own laugh, gosh it’s as though he comes alive. If he could bottle up the sound, he would. Something passes in _____’s eyes. Lust? Desire? He can’t pinpoint. 

He wants to kiss the hell out of her though and he wants to do it desperately. Her eyes drop to his mouth and he takes it as a sign to lean forward and press his mouth against hers. 

Her lips part ever so slightly followed by her gripping Jungkook’s collar to bring him even closer. So close as if she wants their souls to intertwine. 

The feeling is very much mutual. 

She gets up from the passenger’s seat without breaking the kiss and straddles his lap. Her legs on either side of his thigh as their core’s touch. Jungkook is not sure how long he can endure this sweet pain of waiting. 

In all sincerity, he’s been holding himself back from the very moment he saw her walking up to him in that dress. Do with that information what you will. 

Now, he just wants to say fuck it and get inside her— only that he can’t, because he wants her to take her time and ask for it. Then and then only he will fuck her. If it’s inside this car then so be it. 

The kiss is electric and filled with passion, tingling his skin in all the right places as she matches his enthusiasm with her own.

______ pulls back with a deep breath, leaving Jungkook panting heavily. 

“Please.” she begs. 

A strand of hair falls on her face. He tucks it behind her ear. “Please what baby?” 

“Please fuck me, Jungkook. I want you so bad and I want you right now.” she whines.

He grins. “At your service, ma’am.” 

He hears _____’s light chuckle as he gets out of the car, carrying her with him while also making sure she doesn’t hit her head on the hood. She detaches herself from him once they’re out and settles in the back seat. Only after ensuring she’s comfortable enough, Jungkook follows her. 

His body lays on top of her and he wastes no time as their mouths collide. Her finger grip the hair on his nape and he groans with pleasure, his cock going thick. He rubs it on her lower stomach to show her how much he wants her, gaining a moan out of her. 

Jungkook’s head goes fuzzy with every passing second. He almost comes when she lifts her hips up and rubs a slow circle against his cock. 

“Fuck.” He groans, pulling back from the kiss. _____’s cheeks are heated and lips are swollen. He did that. Her man did that. 

Suddenly, he’s grateful for the tinted glass and his big car. 

_____ lifts her head up and kisses his sweaty cheek, swiping his forehead with her palm. “You’re sweating, honey.” 

“Yeah, I tend to do that in your presence. Do you know how hard it was for me to stay sane after seeing you look so unbelievably gorgeous?” 

She passes him a lazy smile, “You’ve always been so good at controlling yourself, haven’t you?” 

“Not anymore.” He sits up, knees on either side of her body and starts unbuckling his belt all the while panting with excitement. His pants slide halfway down letting his cock spring free. Thick, angry and leaking with precum. His shirt goes next.

______’s eyes flash with lust as she bites her lower lip. The straps of her dress have slipped down, leaving her tits bare and open for Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.” he leans forward as she runs a hand up his bare spine, hooking her legs over his hip.

“Please.” she whispers. 

A loud thunder outside the car grabs Jungkook’s attention. Nice, he’s so horny he didn’t even realise that it’s raining. Another rumble of thunder drowns their panting breath but he still only focuses on the woman beneath him. The goddess of a woman who trusts him with her body. How lucky he is to call her his own. 

She brushes his hair out of his face, her thumb dusting over the mole on the bridge of his nose before her hand follows the path of his tattooed arm, his rib, his ass, until she wraps a fist around his dick. 

He pushes into her hand. “I need to grab the condoms from the console, angel.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, the car filling with the pants and whimpers before she says, “I want you bare. I’m on the pill.” 

Jungkook has never gone without condom nor has he considered going without one, but this woman right here just asked him to get inside her bare and fuck if it doesn’t tempt him.

And so he gives in, but not before asking, “Are you sure?” 

“As sure as one can be.” 

He nods, bringing his lips back to hers. His hand finds her thong under the dress as he slides it down her legs. Then he strokes a single line up and down her slit, wetting his finger with her cum. When he brings the same finger to his mouth and sucks on it, _____ all but whimpers. 

His cock follows next and he does the same with it, rubbing himself up and down her slit as he coats himself in her before he presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, curls his hips forward, and pushes into her. 

Tortuously slowly, inch by fucking inch. 

She’s so warm and tight for him. He’s not sure how long he can take before he shoots his load inside of her. 

“More.” she pleads, her face morphing into the most beautiful expression of pleasure. 

Jungkook pulls back and pushes again, watching more of a length disappear inside of her. He’s not even halfway in and she’s already crying out his name. 

Leaning in, he bites her neck in an attempt to give her his all. All his love, all his nights and all his life. The question is at the tip of his tongue but considering what happened inside, he quickly holds himself back. 

“You’re doing so good for me, my angel. Taking me so well,” He thrusts again. “You’re made for me, aren’t you?” 

She cries out. 

“What was that?” She throws her head back. “Yes. Oh my god” 

Thrust. “Yes, what baby? I’m gonna need you to say it.” 

Jungkook takes her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it until she cries out again, “I’m made for you. Fuck.”

He releases the nipple with a loud pop. “That’s right you are.” His pelvic bone is flush with hers, ____’s legs as wide as possible to accommodate him. She dusts her fingertips up and down his spine while he slowly kisses along her jaw.

When she pushes her heels into his ass, urging him to move, he pulls out part way before pushing back in again. 

She lets out a moan quickly followed by his own. _____’s hands run over Jungkook’s abs, nipples, and wrap around his shoulders. 

He’s fucking her slowly, taking his time, feeling her body and letting her feel his too. Every brush, every graze, every breath is precious to him.

Soft and intimate. 

So when the next words leave Jungkook’s mouth, he blames it on the moment. “Marry me.”

_____’s eyes which were closed earlier, savoring the very moment, pop open and his movement halts. 

“What?” 

“Fuck. Okay, I know this is not a position or place a woman wants to be proposed in, but I have to say this before I go insane. _____, I know you’re scared and I also know the reason behind it. Of course, I won’t ask you why you kept that part a secret from me, because I respect you and want you to take your time. But baby,” he brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, “I need you to know that I will die before I let anything like that go down between us. I love you so much you don’t even realise. Sometimes I even shock myself with how much I cherish you. You’re a gift to me, a gift which brings out the best not just in me but in everyone she meets.”

He places a small kiss on her forehead before continuing, “I can go anywhere, see everything but it still wouldn’t match the level of affection I hold for you in my heart. Still wouldn’t match the beauty of your smile, you amazing woman. You’re all I have ever wanted. So please, make me the happiest motherfucker in the world by saying ye-”

“Yes” 

‘What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you. Now will you please shut up fuck me like you promised, husband?” 

He bites her jaw, “Oh, I’ll fuck you so nice you’ll be begging for more, wife.”

Soon enough, _____’s lower lip trembles as her orgasm takes over, and he has the privilege to watch it all. The fluttering of her lashes, the marks of her nail down his arm and the way she calls him her husband again when she’s able to find her words. 

He’s so gone.

About half an hour later when he asks her again as to what changed her mind about marriage, she says something so deep yet in such a casual way, he wants to cry. 

“When I hugged you inside, you didn’t ask questions. You just let me be and that may seem like a miniscule thing for someone else, but for me it was enough. Enough to stay with you until I turn all wrinkly and grey haired.” 

[wondergirlsthings]

Beachside Boundaries

Lando Norris x Reader

The sun was blazing, the waves crashing gently onto the shore as you settled into your spot on the beach. It was the perfect day for relaxation—a break from the hustle and chaos of the F1 season. You were with Lando and a group of friends on a private stretch of beach, enjoying some well-earned downtime.

You smoothed down your bikini, a vibrant blue two-piece you’d been saving for a day like this. It fit perfectly and brought out the color of your eyes, which Lando had already complimented earlier in the day. As you made your way toward the shoreline to dip your toes in the water, you heard laughter behind you.

“Y/N, you’re turning heads today,” one of the guys in your group called out teasingly. You glanced back and grinned, brushing it off as lighthearted fun.

But when your eyes met Lando’s, his usual playful demeanor was replaced by something else—his brows furrowed slightly, his jaw tense. He was watching you intently from his spot under the beach umbrella, his hand gripping the armrest of his chair.

You shrugged it off at first, thinking he was just tired. But as the day went on, his mood seemed to sour more and more. By the time you walked back up from the water, drying your hair with a towel, he was already on his feet.

“Hey, can we talk for a second?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with tension.

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “Sure. What’s up?”

He gestured for you to follow him a few steps away from the group. Once you were alone, he crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding your eyes for a moment before speaking.

“Do you have to wear that bikini?”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “Excuse me? What’s wrong with my bikini?”

“It’s… nothing’s wrong with it,” he said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “You look amazing, Y/N. You always do. But…” He trailed off, glancing back toward the group. “You’ve seen the way they’re looking at you.”

You tilted your head, trying to process his words. “Lando, are you seriously upset because people are looking at me?”

He sighed, his hands dropping to his sides. “I’m not upset, I’m just… I don’t like it. You’re mine, Y/N, and I hate the idea of anyone else thinking they can…” He gestured vaguely, unable to find the right words.

“Lando,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “I’m yours. You don’t have to worry about anyone else. I only care about what you think.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, but he still looked unconvinced. “I know that, but it’s hard not to feel protective. You’re gorgeous, and I can’t stand the idea of someone else staring at you like that.”

You placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him with a reassuring smile. “You don’t need to be jealous, Lando. I love you, and nothing’s going to change that. Besides, it’s just a bikini. It doesn’t mean anything more than me enjoying the sunshine.”

He let out a small laugh, finally meeting your eyes. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

“A little,” you teased, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. “But I kind of like it when you’re protective. Just don’t go overboard, okay?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. “I’ll try. But if anyone gets too close, I’m not above reminding them you’re taken.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fair enough. Now, come back to the group and stop sulking. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

With a sheepish grin, Lando followed you back to the beach chairs. His jealousy might have been a bit over the top, but you knew it came from a place of love. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

[thehoneybeestings]

Vi Sleep Headcanons

Word Count: 545

Content/Warnings: sfw, gn reader (no pronouns used), a little bit of angst just bc poor Vi has never caught a break in her life

A/N: so while i finish up the dancer!vi x dancer! reader smut... i wrote this up super quick last night in bed while my girlfriend was genuinely sprawled on top of me pushing me off of it but awwww my shayla ANYWAY, here is a short headcanon about what I think it's like to share a bed with Vi! enjoy!

Love, Bee ୨ৎ

୨ৎ Vi, who feels the safest when she's as small as she can get while she sleeps

୨ৎ Before you two began sleeping in the same bed, she'd try to go to sleep with her limbs outstretched- be it on her side, her back, or her stomach- but every morning, without fail, she'd wake up with her knees tucked into her chest and her arms wrapped around her own waist

୨ৎ After the two of you began sharing a bed, she'd start out curled into herself, cradled in your arms, and wake up starfished across the entire fucking bed

୨ৎ Vi, who I fully and wholeheartedly believe sucks at being the big spoon

୨ৎ As much as she'd like to feign that she's all big and tough- that she's supposed to be the one holding you- she sleeps the best tucked against your back, covers pulled up to her nose

୨ৎ (When she does try to big spoon, she burrows her head so far into your back that you end up turning around to hold her anyway)

୨ৎ Vi, who-despite pulling it right up to her nose before she falls asleep- always manages to kick the damn comforter off the bed in the middle of the night

୨ৎ She runs so hot at night that it doesn't matter; anything more than the top sheet and you'd sweat through your pajamas

୨ৎ Vi, who sleeps naked apart from her underwear (plain cotton hipsters; there's no way boxers are fitting underneath the tight ass jeans she wears like i’m sorry)

୨ৎ Vi, who hates waking up alone; in fact, she's terrified of it

୨ৎ You learned your lesson about leaving bed unannounced when one morning, you woke up before she did and decided to sneak off to the kitchen to make her a surprise breakfast

୨ৎ You're busy scrambling eggs when you hear her call your name from the hallway leading to your bedroom 

୨ৎ She rounds the corner to the kitchen, eyes wide and wild until they land on you, and she finally exhales

୨ৎ “Hey baby! I thought I’d surprise you with breakfast in bed; you like your eggs scrambled, right?”

୨ৎ “Yeah,” she'd breathe out. She still looked like she'd seen a ghost. 

୨ৎ You'd furrow your brow, worry creeping up on you. “You okay?” 

୨ৎ “Y-yeah, sorry. I’m good,” she'd reply, unconvincingly.

୨ৎ Your eyes wouldn't leave her as you moved the eggs off of the heat and made your way to where she stood with a hand on the wall to support herself

୨ৎ “Baby,” you'd coax, reaching out to tame a stray tendril of fuchsia; and she'd envelop you in her arms, holding on like you'd disappear if she let go

୨ৎ “Please don't leave without waking me first, okay?” She’d plead, her voice breaking.

୨ৎ And your heart would shatter as you realized just how terrified she was of losing someone else

୨ৎ From that point on, you'd never leave bed without a gentle shake to her shoulder and a quick kiss on her forehead as you alerted her that you were leaving, but that you'd be back

୨ৎ Vi, who still has a hard time comprehending that she has a soft bed to sleep in at night, a fluffy comforter to abandon when she gets too hot, full nights of sleep without nightmares, and most of all, you to share it with

End ୨ৎ

[just1cefor4ll]

Always the loser, never the winner

“And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best— thought it never felt right.”

Choi Su-bong/Thanos x sick!ex reader warning. swearing, not proof read, might be OOC, no happy ending, mentions of drugs

genre. angst

The night Choi Su-bong walked out of your life was the coldest one you could remember. You were sick—seriously sick—and he had tried, God, he had tried, to make it work. He worked every odd job he could find alongside his dream of becoming a rapper, borrowed money from anyone who would listen, and skipped meals just to make sure you had enough to eat. But the medical bills piled up, and the debt collectors came knocking. He saw no way out.

The decision to leave was supposed to save you. He told himself that over and over as he packed his things in the dead of night. Without him, you’d be eligible for financial aid. Without his debts dragging you down, you’d have a chance to survive. But when he walked out that door without a word, it broke him. He thought it was the only way to show you he loved you; by disappearing.

Months passed. He tried to drown his guilt in drugs, hoping to maybe one day get back to you, however once he made the grave mistake of investing into a damn bitcoin— his life came crashing down on him. His debts only grew and to him there was only one possible solution to his depressive life; suicide.

Then the invitation came. A strange card, offering the promise of a fortune. Su-bong didn’t hesitate—he had nothing left to lose. It was like a sign from god, an angel sent from heaven telling him his life hasn’t lost its purpose just yet.

The games were brutal, but he clung to one thought to keep himself alive: if he won, he’d find you again. He’d make things right.

But then he saw you.

The first round had ended, the survivors headed back into the dormitory. He was scanning the crowd, taking stock of the competition, when his eyes landed on you. You were standing near the corner, pale but determined, your jaw set with the same stubbornness he always loved. His heart stopped.

“No,” he whispered under his breath, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. You didn’t notice him at first, too preoccupied with your own fear and confusion. But when the second game began, and players were called to choose teams, you spotted him. Your eyes met across the room.

“Su-bong? .. Or should I say Thanos?”

His name on your lips felt like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as the weight of what he’d done crashed down on him. You were here because of him. Because he’d left you with nothing.

You marched toward him, your expression a mixture of disbelief and fury. “What the hell are you doing here?” “I could ask you the same thing,” he managed to choke out, his voice coming off a bit harsher then intended . “I didn’t have a choice,” you snapped, your voice breaking. “I needed money, and I thought—” You stopped, shaking your head as tears filled your eyes. “No. You don’t get to ask me that. You left me.”

“I—” He reached out, but you stepped back. “You left me to die, Su-bong.” He couldn’t argue. He wanted to tell you why, to make you understand, but what could he say? That he thought abandoning you was love? That he thought you’d be better off without him? It all sounded so empty now, standing here in this nightmare. The announcement for the next game interrupted you. You were forced apart, thrown into a world where survival meant stepping over others. He watched you from a distance, unable to protect you, hating himself more with every passing second.

You both however survived the games, a weight lifting off of your chest once you stepped into the dormitories you learned to love— because it meant you got to live another day.

Then the votes came. You pressed O, having nothing to loose since you were already dying from this god forsaken sickness you were cursed with anyway.

Su-bong didn’t know, but a part of you blamed yourself for everything—for the debt, for his departure, for the way your once-perfect life unraveled. When he left, thinking it would save you, he didn’t realize the crushing weight of the medical bills would fall squarely on your shoulders. The debt collectors didn’t stop; they simply shifted their focus. And in the cruelest twist of fate, his absence had effectively wiped away his debts while doubling your own. You hated yourself for it. Hated that you had become a burden, that your illness had destroyed the life you’d built together. You’d loved Su-bong since high school, falling for his charm and his stubborn determination. Your relationship had been solid, a rare kind of love most would say he’s incapable of.

But sickness had a way of poisoning everything. You’d watched as his shoulders slumped under the weight of your medical expenses, as his bright smile dimmed with every overdue notice. And then, one day, he was gone, leaving nothing behind but a note you could barely bring yourself to read.

It was perfect, once. You’d wake up to his warm laughter and fall asleep to his whispered promises of forever. But in the end, love hadn’t been enough to keep you together.

One night, as the others slept, you found yourself sitting beside him in the dark. Neither of you spoke for a long time, the silence heavy with everything left unsaid. Finally, you broke it.

“Did you know your debts were cleared when you left?” you asked, your voice quiet. Su-bong froze, his gaze snapping to yours. “What?” “I got stuck with all of it,” you admitted, staring at the floor. “The medical bills, the loans—they all fell on me after you left. You thought you were saving me, but you only made it worse.” His face crumpled, and for the first time, you saw the depth of his regret. “Shit, I— I didn’t know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought... I thought you’d be free.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Free? Su-bong, I lost everything. My health, my home, you. I had nothing left.” “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I was so fucking stupid. I should have stayed. I should’ve fought harder.” “Yeah, you should’ve,” you said, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “We could’ve figured it out together, but you didn’t give me a choice. You just left.” “I was scared,” he admitted. “Scared of watching you suffer, scared of failing you. I thought you’d hate me if I stayed.”

You looked at him then, tears streaming down your face. “I didn’t hate you, Su-bong. I loved you. I still love you, even after everything.” His breath hitched, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the boy you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. “I love you too dumbass,” he said, his voice cracking but a teasing tone in his. “I never stopped.”

But there was no time for reconciliation, no room for hope in a place like this. The next day, another game began, and the stakes were higher than ever. Su-bong tried to shield you, to take risks so you wouldn’t have to, but the games didn’t care about love or sacrifice.

After Mingle, the vote came to a tie. You were on the O side, earning glares from many, but you didn’t care.

You noticed Su-bong get up and walk away. “Hey—where are you going?” you whisper-yelled, raising a brow. He turned around with a sigh before coming back to you. “I’m going to take a piss. Wanna come, princess?” he smirked, amused as your face turned bright red. “No—go! Ew, what the hell?” You pushed him away, but a chuckle escaped your lips despite yourself. He ruffled your hair and left without another word, leaving a small smile on your face.

“We’ll get out of here, and everything will get better…” you murmured to yourself. A low chuckle beside you made you flinch.

It was Player 001.

“What makes you think he actually cares for you?” His tone was soft but laced with an aggravating edge, a barely noticeable smirk playing on his lips. “What?” you asked, frowning. “I mean… didn’t you see him doing those drugs during Red Light, Green Light? He’s probably going to get out of here and waste all of your money on his happy pills,” he said casually, glancing down at you as you sat frozen in place.

Your heart stopped. ‘What? But he said he was sober..’ you thought, confusion clouding your mind as doubts about Su-bong resurfaced. “Why so nervous?” the man pressed, leaning against a nearby bed. “Did you realize your boyfriend over there isn’t as trustworthy as you thought?” His words stung, but before you could respond, you noticed more X voters entering the bathrooms, making your chest tighten with panic. “What? I—no.” You stood quickly, intending to rush to the bathroom, but he grabbed your shoulder with a firm grip. “Be careful with your decisions,” he said, his voice low and ominous. “This place is life or death—remember that.”

You tried to push past him, but he pulled you into a secluded corner where neither the O nor X voters could see. “What are you doing? Let me go!” you protested, thrashing against his hold. His grip didn’t loosen. “Shhh,” he whispered, his expression unreadable. You struggled, tears pooling in your eyes. ‘No— no.. no Su-bong he’s in danger I need to—‘ Your body slowly started giving up— you were surprised it even held out for this long but sickness has a way of manipulating your way of thinking. Sometimes you think you’re as healthy as one can be but then before you know it.. death is gently kissing your cheek.

‘Su-bong..’ He was the only thing on your mind as your consciousness slipped from your fingers. A sharp pain stung your heart, almost like a bullet as you heard one last thing, something you certainly did not want to hear.

“Player 230 eliminated.”

No, he promised. He promised you’d get out— together. You fell for his stupid lies and promises yet again, you let your guard down and got hurt again, but this time it wasn’t just a petty break up.. a life was lost, a precious one to you at that and you couldn’t take it back.. not this time. ‘I hate you Choi Su-bong. I hate you for leaving me, I hate you for lying to me and tricking me yet again with your stupid charm and that stupid smirk. I hate you so so much.. But I can’t help but love you with my whole, sick being.’

© just1cefor4ll— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Stay with Me

Guess who's dumping their writing exercises cuz my drafts are too full. 🤦‍♀️

The clock ticks loudly in the silence of the living room. You sit on the couch, knees tucked into your chest, staring blankly at the muted TV. The soft glow of Detroit’s streetlights seeps through the curtains, but it feels cold and distant—like everything else lately.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You were supposed to be proud of him, your husband, out there living his dream. And you *were* proud, but you weren’t prepared for the ache that came with watching from the sidelines. Seeing the pictures of him with those women—beautiful, confident, glamorous women—plastered all over social media made your chest feel tight. They smiled too brightly, leaned too close, and he never seemed to mind.

It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong, not technically. You knew that. But it didn’t stop the flood of insecurity that crept in late at night when you were alone in the bed you shared, waiting for him to call.

Tonight was one of those nights. Your phone sat face-down on the coffee table, his name flashing on the screen for the third time in an hour. You couldn’t bring yourself to pick up. What were you supposed to say? That you were jealous? That you felt silly and small watching him bask in the glow of fame while you stayed here, invisible?

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway breaks through your thoughts. Frowning, you glance at the clock. It’s too early for him to be back, isn’t it?

The front door opens, and there he is. Marshall. His fitted hoodie is pulled low over his face, but you can see the worry etched in his features as he steps inside.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” His voice is soft, but there’s an edge of concern in it. He shrugs off his jacket and sets it on the armrest before walking toward you.

You look away, hugging your knees tighter. “You didn’t have to come home. I’m fine.”

“Don’t do that,” he says, crouching in front of you so you’re forced to meet his eyes. They’re piercing, a storm of blue that makes your stomach flip. “You’re not fine. Talk to me.”

You hesitate, tears stinging your eyes. “I just... I feel stupid, okay? I know you’re not doing anything wrong, but seeing you with those women—it messes with my head. And I hate feeling like this. Like I’m not enough.”

His expression softens, and he reaches for your hands, pulling them away from your knees. “Hey, don’t say that.” His voice is low, serious. “You’re everything to me. All that other stuff? It’s just noise. You know that, right?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall. “It doesn’t feel like it sometimes. I see the way they look at you, and I can’t help but wonder if you’d rather be with someone like them.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face. “You really think I’d trade *this*—*us*—for some random chick smiling for the camera? Nah.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding you. “You’re my wife. You’re the one who knows me when the cameras aren’t rolling, the one who sees me at my worst and still loves me anyway. Those women don’t mean shit.”

Your throat tightens, and you finally let the tears fall. “I just feel so insecure sometimes.”

He stands, pulling you up with him, and wraps his arms around you. His hoodie smells like faint cologne and the cold Detroit air, and you melt into him.

“I get it,” he murmurs against your hair. “I know I’ve been busy, and maybe I’ve been caught up in everything, but I never want you to feel like you’re not enough. I’ll do better. I promise.”

You sniffle against his chest, nodding. His fingers stroke your hair gently as he holds you tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

“I love you,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you. His hands cup your face, thumbs wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “More than anything. Don’t ever forget that.”

You nod again, a small smile breaking through despite the tears. “I love you too.”

He kisses you then—slow and deep, as if he’s trying to erase every doubt from your mind. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and for the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe again.

“Come on,” he says, lacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go to bed. We’ll figure it all out tomorrow.”

And for now, that’s enough.

[er1nne]

(do not copy or plagarize, original work) coriolanus loves when you dress up

“Do you like this?” you asked, turning slowly in front of the mirror. The dress shimmered in the low light, the deep burgundy catching shadows in its folds. You smoothed the fabric over your hips, trying not to glance at Coriolanus’s reflection behind you. He sat in the armchair by the window, the warm glow of the skyline casting faint golden highlights over his sharp features. His pale eyes flickered toward you, but he said nothing at first, his gaze skimming lazily over the silhouette of your dress as he flipped through pages of the book he was reading. You waited, forcing yourself to appear casual as you fiddled with the thin straps.

His silence stretched just long enough to tighten your chest, but then he tilted his head ever so slightly, his lips curling into a faint smile. “It’s different,” he said at last, his tone mild. “Unexpected.” His smile deepened as he added, almost as an afterthought, “I suppose that’s what you were going for?”

You blow a signed breath through your lips with an pout at his lack of a response.

“Obviously,” you replied, forcing a laugh. “I mean, not everything has to be so formal, right? A little variety never hurt anyone.” You tugged at the neckline, suddenly self-conscious under his steady gaze. He didn’t respond immediately, just shifted in his chair with that careful, deliberate grace of his, setting his glass of wine down on the table beside him. “Variety,” he repeated slowly, his voice low and contemplative. “It’s an admirable trait, certainly. Though it does make one wonder…” He trailed off, his gaze meeting yours in the mirror. The way he looked at you was unsettling, as though he were appraising you rather than admiring you. “Wonder what?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended. His smile didn’t falter, but something in his eyes glinted, cool and knowing. “Whether variety suits you,” he said simply, as though the words were perfectly harmless.

Your smile faltered for just a second before you recovered, brushing off the unease creeping into your chest. “Well, I like it,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in mock defiance. “And I think it’s nice to mix things up every once in a while. You don’t always have to play it safe, you know.” You turned back to the mirror, hoping to reclaim the confidence you’d felt when you first put the dress on. But Coriolanus’s reflection loomed behind yours, his gaze heavy and unyielding. “Playing it safe,” he murmured, as though tasting the words. He rose from his chair, his movements slow and unhurried, and approached you with the quiet authority that seemed to follow him everywhere. “There’s nothing wrong with taking risks,” he said as he came to stand behind you, his presence towering over your smaller frame. “But not all risks are worth taking. Some… detract more than they add.”

You frowned, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. “It’s just a dress, Coriolanus,” you said, your voice tinged with exasperation. “You make it sound like I’m committing some kind of crime against fashion.” He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a faint shiver down your spine. “Not at all,” he replied, his tone warm but measured. “It’s just that you’ve always had a certain… natural elegance. Something others could never hope to replicate. I’d hate to see that overshadowed by something that doesn’t do you justice.” His words were laced with praise, but there was an undercurrent to them, a subtle weight that made your stomach twist. “It’s not about the dress,” he continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “It’s about how it reflects you. And you, my dear, deserve nothing but the best.”

The way he said it—soft, persuasive, almost reverent—made your heart stutter in your chest. You didn’t know whether to feel flattered or uneasy. “Well,” you said lightly, hoping to dispel the tension that seemed to coil around you. “I guess I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” You tried to step away, but his hands found your shoulders, holding you in place with a grip that was firm yet gentle enough to seem innocuous. “There doesn’t need to be a next time,” he said softly, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re perfect as you are. I only want you to see it the way I do.” The words should have been reassuring, but they felt like a thread tightening around you, binding you to him in ways you couldn’t quite name.

You laughed nervously, brushing a hand through your hair as his fingers lingered on your shoulders. “You always know how to make me feel special,” you said, your voice wavering just enough for you to notice. His smile returned, soft and enigmatic, as though he’d won some unspoken argument. “It’s because you are special,” he murmured. “More than you realize.” He stepped back then, releasing you, and the absence of his touch was almost as unsettling as the weight of it. You turned to face him, searching his face for some sign of what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable, his pale eyes as impenetrable as ever. And though you smiled at him, forcing the unease to the back of your mind, a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that his words had slipped beneath your skin, rooting themselves deeper than you intended to let them.

AN: if it's not clear, i am madly in love with this man (and drew starkey)

[regretsofaghost]

Part 3- you'll always be my closest friend, I lost myself but I struggle too, so please tell me, was I good to you?

AO3 link to chapter 3- here Tumblr link to chapter 2-here Tumblr link to chapter 4- here

Word Count- 700 words

It was getting to early morning, when Charles had begun to worry about Edwin’s whereabouts. They had tried to make a habit in recent months of not being gone from each other for too long, to come back within six hours of leaving, if that. Edwin had skirted close to this deadline on multiple occasions, coming back at five hours and thirty minutes for instance.

It made Charles feel like a nag, to pay such close attention to how long his friend was gone for, but he could not help it.

He had spent too much time neglecting Edwin, since meeting Crystal, that the prospect of doing so again left a terrible taste in his mouth.

Sometimes he still wondered, what Edwin would taste like, underneath that sweet-piney taste of gin.

Still, it should not have been remarkable, when Charles’ eyes flew up to the mirror at a clatter, Edwin’s form stumbling in, looking like he just barely kept himself upright. Charles moved quicker than he thought possible, hands coming up to catch his friend, worry shooting through the roof when all Edwin did was laugh.

“Charles,” Edwin’s voice was slurred, the r of his name all but lost in his posh accent as his hands came up to grip the arms that held him. Charles opened his mouth to say something, anything, but found his eyes tracking the way Edwin’s tongue darted out to lick hi slips, and perhaps he was more obvious than he thought, because as quick as Charles had been in catching Edwin, Edwin rushed forward to press his lips against Charles’.

It wasn’t a good kiss, too hard, too much teeth, but Charles could not stop Edwin, could not deny him, would never wish to.

It wasn’t sweet, like those kisses that night, all those months ago.

“You’re mush better at that than-“ Edwin began to say, before he cut himself off. “No, that’d upset you, to hear. I’ve been trying my best to not upset you. Has it worked?”

Charles looked at Edwin, his glossy eyes, slurred speech, the way he pressed himself so closely to Charles that they might begin to meld into each other soon enough.

“You’ve drunk that potion, haven’t you?” Charles asked, knowing the answer, even if it made his stomach knot, a weight dropped on his chest.

Edwin was supposed to be doing better.

“You’re upset,” Edwin said, and Charles couldn’t reply, because he was. He could not offer reassurance, could not mask worry and anger, not when it came to Edwin’s safety.

“Of course I’m bloody upset! You went and got- fucking sloshed again, gone all night, what if something happened to you? I wouldn’t even know till it was too late!” Charles took a shaking breath, trying to be mindful of his hands still holding onto Edwin, to not grip him tightly and hurt him.

“I-“ Edwin began, licking his lips, looking so lost, and Charles hated that he was the cause, but he needed to know, what Edwin had planned, if he were hurt, if something happened.

Edwin with his big ol’ brain, usually thinking ten steps ahead, but sometimes losing himself in the way only sixteen year olds can.

It was then, that Charles saw them, again.

Bruises, along Edwin’s throat, where his dress shirt was messily unbuttoned, his bowtie undone, the way his hair was disheveled and wavy.,

“Did you meet up with someone?”

Those kisses-

They were supposed to mean something.

Was Charles not enough anymore?

Was he too late?

“What?” Edwin’s hand came up to his collar, his cheeks turning an impressive shade of pink as if he was just reminded of where he was.

Edwin was not Charles’

But how he wanted him to be.

Each other’s.

Like they were for over thirty years.

Before everything changed.

For better and for worse.

“Win…” Charles’ voice was softer than he meant for it to be, just above a whisper, but Edwin looked at him all the same., attention grabbed, and his lovely eyes looked at Charles like he were the most important thing in the universe. “Where did you go?”

Edwin took a shaking breath, his reply on his lips, the door opened.

[girl-named-sandoz]

babe, you posted a silverchair song on your instagram story, are you okay?

[thirdeyeblue]

“Nine would have treated Martha better than Ten did”

I need to talk about this argument that never seems to stop circulating.

Note: Not a venomous/anti post. There’s more than enough of that across fandom spaces as is, and this is supposed to be a place for ✨sweet, blissful escapism✨

When making this argument, people seem to envision a scenario in which Nine never met Rose.

While I can appreciate a good hypothetical, recognizing Rose's significance to the Doctor (Nine and Ten) is essential to understanding why things with Martha played out the way they did in the first place.

In the third series, the Doctor is grieving. This grief is deliberately threaded into nearly every script, whether spoken aloud or not (and these are just a few examples):

He's burning in Rose’s wake the entire time Martha travels with him, which is why it’s so frequently called upon: It’s 100% deliberate in framing his grief. He grieved as Nine too, of course— having been fresh on the heels of the Time War — but then he met Rose, which changed everything.

Back then, he was still a rude, traumatized pain in the ass, but we watch Rose soften more of those jagged edges with every episode as they grow closer; as he lets his guard down and forms a deep connection with her.

He falls in love (against his better judgment) and it's game over.

And yes: provided S1E1 had been titled 'Martha', one can realistically assume things might have unfolded similarly to how they did with Rose. However, it wouldn’t have been that way just because the Doctor was Nine and “Nine was different” — it would be because he wasn’t already in love with someone else. The same can't be said for the start of S3.

Think of it like this: if Rose AND Martha had been in that cellar — if Nine had taken both of them along with him in S1 — we’d eventually be looking at the most melodramatic love triangle ever, what with him living in close quarters with two brilliant, gorgeous, compassionate young women... But Doctor Who is plenty “soap opera” as is with just one woman in the TARDIS.

(I certainly wouldn’t object to reading that fic, though)

Now, regarding the unrequited elephant in the room…

His inability to be romantic with Martha isn’t because he thinks her lesser, nor is it for lack of compatibility. It isn't because Rose is any better than her. It certainly isn’t just because he’s Ten.

It’s really only for one reason, which can't be denied — and now I’m a broken record:

He is still in love with Rose.

(cut from a tenrosedaily gif)

Nine is Ten, and Ten is only such a mess in S3 because he’s just lost the love of his life. Martha merely got caught in the crosshairs of a volatile Time Lord in mourning, and yes — it sucks. Absolutely.

But it also feels dismissive to chalk Ten and Martha’s relationship up to little more than some sort of mindless dance of pining, jealousy, and toxicity.

Ten trusted Martha with his life over and over again — and hers, with him. He constantly praised her brilliance, happily carting her around time and space with no intention of letting her go. In the BBC’s extended universe of novels/comics/cartoons/etc, there’s so much depth to their relationship: love and trust and trauma and sacrifice. They had their own special bond as mates, their own complexities — so it’s a bummer that it's forever overshadowed by the other things.

I’m not denying that there was a lot of stuff that sucked/was for sure toxic about Ten's S3 behavior, but so many of the things I've seen him catching flak for can be directly attributed to being A Clueless Fucking Alien Idiot (not a trait that’s unique to Ten) — as well as his flat-out obliviousness to Martha’s feelings.

So yes, I agree: if Rose never existed, he would have treated Martha differently as Nine. He also would have treated her differently as Ten. Certainly.

But Rose did exist, and when discussing canon, it matters.

“He tells me that he absolutely, 100% loves Rose... He tells me how my daughter; my wonderful, beautiful, clever little girl saved him from himself before… And he says that’s all because of me! I made her into the Rose Tyler that saved him.”

-Jackie Tyler, Flight Into Hull!

Martha got the short end of the stick in S3. She came round at the wrong place and time, but that doesn't mean it was all bad. It doesn't mean the Doctor didn’t adore her. It certainly doesn't mean the time they spent together was wasted or worthless. They were brilliant!

Sure, he could be a twat, but let it be known that he was a twat with Rose as well, both as Nine and Ten. I’m sure Tentoo can be plenty infuriating, too. So while I'll defend Ten (and Tentoo) into the ground forever and ever and ever, I'll concede that he's fucked up.

The Doctor is a certified Pain In The Ass. It’s one of the things I love so much about this character — dynamics.

But never forget that Martha was goddamn tough as nails and overcame every bit of it. She moved on with her life, and the Doctor moved on with his. One can only pray that, when they inevitably drag her back onto the show (which feels inevitable if I'm honest), we see at once that she's been living her best life for all these years.

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[danidoesathing]

am i the only one who feels like alex(the world ender guy) was kind of a missed oportunity in vide noir? like, he was set up by johnnie to be a badass gang leader just for him to never even appear in the end, we just got a close up to his face scar

i feel like buck's encounter with the psychic would've been way more powerful if it was alex instead. its implied that johnnie and moonbeam had a relationship ig, but its barely even hinted at, and he never even mentions her. but with johnnie and alex, johnnie actually mentions him and speaks highly of his brother, and says alex will help buck if he sees the red cloth that belonged to johnnie

the fact that all that build up led to buck not even TALKING to alex kinda irks me. imagine how much better the payoff would be if alex had received the cloth instead of moonbeam? if we had seen his reaction to johnnie's death? if he would've helped buck like johnnie said he would? if we saw what johnnie implied alex would do to the guys who black brained his brother? idk man i think we were robbed

im new to the fanbase, so im gonna be very embarassed if this is a topic that already came up here LOLL but i still wanted to get it off my chest💀sry if this ask is messy, i suck at writing down my thoughts lmao

No I gotta agree on that. Like I LOVED seeing Moonbeam and getting know her as her and having all this new information about her (her being part of the World Enders is still wild to me and I love it) and it’s a good scene and all, but I’m still confused as to why they built up Alex so much, especially since this is the first time we’re hearing about him, and he never even got the chance to speak. If it were Dale I’d be a bit more understanding as we know him already (tho not by much cause I would have loved to see more of Dale). But it’s Alex, whose not only the leader of the World Enders but also Johnnie’s (and Dale’s) brother. I would’ve have loved to, you know, actually meet the guy. Especially with how much build up he got. And I GET IT Lord Huron’s lore is meant to be weird and vague and hard to pin down but like. Didn’t need to tease me like that come on

The only reason I could think of was maybe they needed to get Buck on his own again? Like having this the beginning of a war between the World Enders and Z’Oieasu shown or having Buck work with them consistently might have thrown off the tone. It is supposed to be Buck’s story and his own descent into madness. The whole album has this isolated vibe to me, like being alone in a city of people Hard to get that when there’s other people around, especially a group as lively as the world enders. Or maybe they just wanted to include Moonbeam back into the story again lol

GOD I would have loved to see Moonbeam’s scene with Buck done with Alex. I can only imagine how that scene would’ve played out and his reaction to Johnnie’s death. Contrasting Buck’s scene with Johnnie with Alex’s own personality, the possible dynamics, the anger and grief that could arise…..ough

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

tomorrow is my first day of classes as I go back to school for the first time in eight years and my family has picked today to blow up at each other and drag me into it

[wondergirlsthings]

Heat of the Moment

Carlos Sainz x Reader

The private villa overlooking the ocean was the perfect retreat. Carlos had whisked you away for a much-needed vacation after a grueling F1 season. It was just the two of you, no cameras, no schedules, and no distractions. Or so you thought.

You stood on the terrace, your bikini-clad figure silhouetted against the setting sun. Carlos had been lounging by the pool, sipping on a drink, but the moment he caught sight of you stepping out onto the deck, his focus shifted entirely.

You stretched your arms over your head, enjoying the warm breeze on your skin. “This place is amazing,” you said, turning back to look at him. But Carlos wasn’t smiling.

His eyes trailed over you, his jaw tightening. “It’s amazing, but so are you. Too amazing, maybe.”

You frowned, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stood up, setting his drink down on the table. “I mean, you look incredible, Y/N. And I love it. But I don’t love the idea of anyone else seeing you like this.”

You laughed softly, brushing it off. “Carlos, it’s just us here. There’s no one else around.”

“Not just here,” he said, stepping closer. “When we go to the beach tomorrow, when we walk through the resort—people are going to stare.”

“And?” you challenged, crossing your arms. “Since when do you care what people think?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not what they think. It’s what I feel. You’re mine, Y/N. I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, but I hate the thought of someone else looking at you the way I do.”

You softened at his words, stepping closer and placing a hand on his chest. “Carlos, I love that you’re protective, but you don’t have to worry. I’m yours. Nothing anyone else does or says is going to change that.”

He looked down at you, his features softening as his hands found your waist. “I know. I trust you. I just can’t help it sometimes. You’re too beautiful for your own good.”

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him lightly. “And you’re too stubborn for your own good. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He chuckled, pulling you into his arms. “Fine. I’ll try to relax. But if anyone so much as glances at you tomorrow, I’m not responsible for what I do.”

“Noted,” you teased, resting your head on his chest.

The tension melted away as the two of you stood there, the sound of the waves crashing below reminding you that moments like these were rare and precious. Carlos’s jealousy might flare up now and then, but it was always rooted in love-and you wouldn’t trade that for the world.

[akkivee]

kuukou hating people crowding together, jyushi hating enclosed spaces and hitoya hating trains and buses are of the exact same energy lol

[willowpains]

we listen and we don’t judge

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

Drew was not a fan of social media.

Unlike you.

Chronically online was a term that was gaining fame to describe someone who spent quite some time on the internet, and who knew all the trends going on.

You weren’t exactly proud to be a part of that community.

But it kept you entertained.

And that’s how you ended up setting your phone up, ready to record Drew and you filming a new trend on TikTok.

How did you convince him to do it? You don’t even remember.

And after what felt like an eternity of explaining the dynamic to Drew, you both were finally ready to begin.

Both of you sitting next to each other on your couch, you looked at him with a mischievous smirk while he stared at you suspiciously.

“We listen and we don’t judge” you both said at the same time, Drew smirking at you.

“I’ll start” you said, looking from your phone screen to your boyfriend. “Sometimes, when I don’t really wanna cook, I get all dramatic and lie about us not having all the ingredients for the dish I was supposed to make, so you can offer to make something instead with what we do have” you say, giving him an embarrassed smile.

He chuckled at your words.

“I knew that love” he lets out a laugh. “You’re not good at lying to me”.

Your mouth opens up in shock.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

Drew pauses for a moment, smiling at you.

"When you're showering, i close the door of our room so the sound of your music gets as muffled as possible" he admits.

You giggle as you nod at his words, you did like to shower with loud music.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You look at him through the screen.

“I thought you hated me when we first met, so I would intentionally try to stay out of your way our first couple of working days together”.

Drew gives you a puzzled expression trying his best not to judge.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

He clears his throat before speaking.

“I often fake coming home super tired and stressed so that you take pity on me and cuddle me while playing with my hair” he says giving you a cute smile.

You giggle at his words.

“That’s cute” you admit leaning to peck his lips.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You take a couple of seconds before speaking, trying to be dramatic.

“I have a lot of edits of you saved on my favorites folder on TikTok” you look at him.

Drew covers his eyes while letting out a chuckle.

“We listen and we don’t judge”.

He looks at you mischievously.

“I get jealous of the guys in your books” he admits seriously.

You let out a laugh as you throw your head back.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You giggle softly before confessing the next one.

“Whenever I feel sick in the middle of the night, I wiggle a lot in bed or move your body so you’ll accidentally wake up and ask me what’s wrong”.

He opens his mouth surprised at your words.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

Drew thinks a little before speaking.

“Ever since we met I’ve always been skeptical of your at home remedies for illnesses, even though they work every time” he admits.

You slowly nod while giving him a defeated look, knowing that already.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You give him a playful look before speaking.

“When we’re cuddling, sometimes I have the urge to stand up abruptly because I get too hot and I feel like I can’t breathe because you’re too big” you say, barely getting out the words without laughing.

Drew looks at you with big eyes, moving his brows up and down at the double meaning of your last words.

You roll your eyes at him.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He thinks for a moment before speaking.

“When I’m showering, sometimes I’ll use your shampoo rather than mine” he pauses as he looks at your baffled face. “It leaves my hair softer! And smells like you”.

Of course, there were a few confessions you had to cut from the video because your PR managers would hunt you down if they made it out into the internet.

“We listen and we don’t judge” you both say smiling at each other.

You smirk playfully at him before speaking.

“I cannot stand one of your friends and past coworkers” you admit, making a serious face.

Drew immediately throws his head back and lets out a chuckle, knowing exactly who you’re referring to.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He clears his throat before looking at you.

“I don’t like watching F1 since you told me about that driver that slid into your dm’s” he lets out cockily.

You burst out laughing looking at him while he joins you.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You make a thinking face looking at him.

“I wish you sent me more shirtless photos” you say giving him puppy eyes. “Or like, you took more of those with my phone, so I could look at them”.

He snorted out a laugh.

“That can be fixed baby” he says as he looks at you mischievously.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

He gives you a smile.

“When I travel for work and you’re not coming with me, I take a pair of your panties and stuff them in my suitcase” he says laughing.

You scrunch up your nose at him.

“Drewwwwww” you say covering your face, now knowing where those missing undies went.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You avoid his eyes for the next one.

“Sometimes when I’m cold, I throw on one of your dirty hoodies that you used while working out, cause they’re sweaty and smell like you” you say, trying not to burst out laughing.

He gives you a grossed out look.

“We listen and we don’t judge”

You look at him waiting for him to speak.

“You know those sleeping shorts Brooke sent you cause she accidentally bought too many?” He says, making quotation marks with his fingers while saying sent and accidentally.

You nod at his words.

“I actually bought them for you because I love how your ass looks in them”.

Your mouth opens at his confession while you hit him playfully in the chest.

Drew laughs at your reaction.

“Oh my god baby, this is definitely not making it to the video” you say as you stand up from your position while laughing at him, walking to your phone to stop recording, while he stands back watching your movements with a smile.

Noticing that in fact, you were wearing a pair of those shorts.

“We don’t judge remember?” he said cheekily.

*

inspired by @valstranquility lando blurb<3

I love this trend on TikTok and I just couldn’t help myself

they’re just too cute I can’t

this was short n sweet hope you like it, if you have any other concepts you’d like to read let me know!

[floral-hex]

So this is my thing now, I’m afraid to go to sleep. This is kinda bullshit, brain.