#but also I started going to the gym with my roommate and I’m like I can just swipe my ID for a small fee and use a space with likeminded ppl

[hamable]

There should be more twenty-four hour work spaces. It cannot be that hard to implement. If the idea of running a business didn’t make me want to barf I’d do it myself. Take the skeleton of a twenty four hour gym business but instead of paying $10 a month to lift weights I can pay $10 a month to park my butt in a reading nook or at a large table. Bonus points if you run a little cafe in there too but you don’t gotta. I don’t need a bougie ultra hip spot, I need an accessible, comfortable, multi-purpose place I can use at any time. I’ll pay a small fee, thats fine, that’s how business works. Literally I’m thinking 24 hour gym membership but for a study/work space.

And yeah, I’ve got a larger discussion in me about free public spaces and bathrooms and shelter and multi-use spaces but that’s another post for another day.

[pazzi5351]

Best massage ever

Paige x Azzi

WC: 1.7K

AN: the anon who gave me this idea. I love you. This one's for you freaky frogs!! I call this smut with some plot!! Enjoy 🥰(I just finished writing this from like a month ago…)

————————————————————————————

Azzi loved the gym. It was her safe space to go to when she needed to quiet her mind.

Or her feelings for a certain blonde teammate, who’s also her best friend.

Azzi knew she liked Paige when she was fifteen during USA basketball. She knew she liked Paige when she quarantined at her house before her first year at Uconn and made stupid recruitment videos. She knew she liked Paige on her eighteenth birthday, which was also her recruitment announcement day, when she chose Uconn. She knew she really liked Paige when CD gave them their rooming assignments and Paige was one of her roommates.

So it was safe to say Azzi spent a lot of time in the gym.

Azzi usually spent her time in the gym alone but Caroline tagged along with her this time. Things were going well as they always do when Azzi’s in the gym. Today was a leg day for her and she was doing some leg presses when Caroline walked over to her.

“Az, you know how much I love you, right?” Caroline started.

Azzi scoffed lightly, continuing her set. “Yeah, Care. You good?”

Caroline nodded. “No, yeah, I’m great. I just, you know, as your best friend I wanna see you… happy is all. You know, not living in the gym.”

Azzi paused. “I don’t live in the– Caroline, what are you getting at?”

“I just think you should… tell Paige how you feel. I mean, hear me out, it’s super obvi she feels the same way and I just- I love you, I really do, but I hate when you make me come with you so you can avoid Paige. Which, by the way, is practically impossible because y’all are roommates.” Caroline said, finishing her ramble.

Azzi just blinked at her. How could she think that she’s deliberately avoiding Paige. She lives with her. It would be crazy to avoid her because she likes her. Right?

“I’m gonna go now. Backs of my legs are sore, y’know.” Azzi stated, standing up to grab her stuff.

“Az, you know I didn’t mean it like that–” Caroline began.

Azzi shook her head as she walked towards the door. “No, no, it’s good. I’ll uh, see you later.”

With that, Azzi left the gym and started walking to her apartment.

Her mind was moving at a million miles per second thinking about what Caroline had said.

Was Carol right? Does Paige like me? Was it obvious she felt the same way? Did everyone see it but me? There’s no way she could like me? I know I kinda disappear at the gym but it’s not necessarily to avoid her. Right?

Azzi was so in her head the entire walk home she didn’t even realize she was standing at her front door, or that her legs were actually burning.

Azzi stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her. She didn’t even realize how sore she actually was until she leaned against the wall to kick her shoes off.

“Hey,” Paige said from the couch, her voice light and familiar in a way that made Azzi’s chest ache. “How was the gym?”

Azzi nodded, stretching her arms up over her head. “Good. It was leg day though, so I’m sore as shit right now.”

Paige grinned, standing up to walk over. “Aw, poor you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but she didn’t miss how Paige looked at her as she walked over.

“You want a massage?” Paige offered, sliding her phone into her pocket. “I mean, I’m not pro like the trainers, but I’m like top two.”

Azzi raised her eyebrows. “Oh yeah, and who told you that? They’re for sure lying to you.”

“Kk,” Paige said without missing a beat, smirking.

Azzi let out a small laugh and walked over to the couch and dramatically flopped down onto it. “Y’know what, sure Paige. I could probably use it anyways.”

“Aight, cool. Just lay there on your stomach and I’ll be back. Imma grab some lotion.” Paige said, before disappearing down the hallway.

Azzi adjusted herself on the couch, flipping onto her stomach. Her sports bra dug uncomfortably into her back as she tried to relax.

When Paige returned, she looked down at her for a second. “You can take your bra off if you want. It might be in the way.”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. “Good call,” she mumbled, sitting up to pull it over her head and letting it drop onto the floor beside her.

Paige tried to ignore the quick flutter in her chest as she straddled the edge of the couch and squeezed some lotion into her hands. She started gently, working on Azzi’s upper back and shoulders, the silence between them comfortable but humming with something unspoken.

“Lower,” Azzi murmured after a few minutes. “My glutes and thighs are worse. Please.”

Paige moved down without a second thought, beginning to knead her way over Azzi’s thighs.

But Azzi felt the hesitation.

“Paige,” she said, her voice low, “I know you’re probably trying to be respectful or whatever, but I really need you to like, be… harder. I’m sore as shit right now, so please actually touch my ass for once.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Paige let out a surprised laugh.

“Okay then,” she said, smiling wide, “whatever you want princess.”

Azzi chuckled, cheek smushed against the couch pillow. “Thank you.”

Paige leaned in again, her fingers finding the tense muscles in Azzi’s butt. She tried her best to keep her mind focused, but the moment was starting to feel... charged. Intimate.

After a minute, Azzi peeked over her shoulder. “You’re gonna have a hard time getting in there with my shorts on.”

Paige blinked. “You want me to...?”

Azzi nodded once. “Yeah. Just take ‘em off. It’ll help.”

Paige hesitated, then gently tugged the waistband of Azzi’s shorts down, revealing a tiny black thong that made her brain short circuit.

“Fuck, Az,” she whispered without thinking.

Azzi’s cheeks flushed. “Just, keep going.”

The massage continued—genuine, professional if you will—but with every minute that passed, the air between them thickened. Paige’s fingers brushed higher on Azzi’s thigh, and Azzi made a small, unguarded sound—soft, pleased.

Paige froze.

Azzi turned her head slightly. “Don’t stop,” she said, quiet and honest. “Please, P.”

Paige swallowed, fingers still resting gently against her skin. “Az...”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I can pretend this is just a massage anymore.”

Azzi pushed herself up slightly, just enough to meet Paige’s eyes.

“Then don’t.”

Paige nodded slowly, understanding the weight of what Azzi was saying to her. With that, she inched her hand higher on Azzi’s inner thigh, close enough to her core where she could feel the wetness that had gathered there.

“Shit, Az. All this, from a massage?” Paige muttered, tracing small circles between Azzi’s thighs, lightly brushing against her center.

Azzi turned her head, “Paige, I’d so rather you fuck me than sit here and tease me.”

Paige chuckled softly at how needy Azzi was being and nodded, leaning forward near Azzi’s ear. “I gotchu, princess.”

With that, Paige moved her fingers to rub small circles on Azzi’s clit through her soaked panties. Azzi shuddered at the touch. Her body relaxing deeper into the couch.

Paige sped up her circles and Azzi moved her hips back onto Paige’s hand. Silently begging for more.

Azzi’s hips rocked gently against Paige’s hand, her breath shaky, head buried in the couch pillow. Paige’s fingers moved expertly, slow but deliberate, slipping beneath the thin fabric of her thong, finally touching her directly.

Azzi let out a shaky moan, barely loud but so full.

Paige stilled. Not because she wanted to stop—but because something in her chest tugged so hard it almost hurt.

She didn’t want this to just be some tension-breaking hookup. She didn’t want to look at Azzi tomorrow and pretend it never happened. She didn’t want this to stay unspoken.

Paige leaned down, her lips brushing against the curve of Azzi’s shoulder. “Az…”

Azzi turned her head, her eyes heavy but open, searching.

“I—” Paige hesitated. “I don’t want this to be just… this. I don’t want to fuck you unless you know it means something to me.”

Azzi blinked. Her breath caught—not from Paige’s fingers, but from her words.

She shifted, turning over onto her back beneath Paige’s weight, the flush still high on her cheeks, but her expression soft.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen,” she said quietly. “Since USA basketball. Since that stupid recruitment video. Since you let me sleep in your bed when I got homesick.”

Paige’s lips parted, stunned still.

“I didn’t tell you,” Azzi continued, “because I thought you didn’t feel it too. That you just… wanted to be close. Not like that.”

Paige let out a breathless laugh, her forehead pressing to Azzi’s. “Azzi. You’ve been the only thing I’ve wanted since before I even knew what the hell I was feeling.”

Azzi smiled softly, cupping Paige’s face with lotion-slick fingers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Paige whispered, kissing her slowly—no teasing, no smirk, just gentle. Real. Like the years they danced around this had built up to this one moment.

Azzi pulled her closer, whispering against her lips, “Then show me. But not just because I asked.”

Paige shook her head, her voice a breath, “No, baby. Because I’ve been waiting years to.”

She kissed down Azzi’s jaw, her collarbone, tracing every place she’d always wanted to touch but never let herself. Her hands moved with purpose now—not teasing anymore, not careful. Loving. Claiming.

Azzi’s legs fell open easily for her, but her hands found Paige’s again, lacing their fingers together. “This is the part where you call me your good girl, by the way,” she whispered, breathless. “Just in case you forgot.”

Paige smirked, heart racing. “Never.”

Then she leaned down, fingers still working inside her, lips brushing Azzi’s ear.

“You’re my good girl,” she whispered. “My favorite. My best friend. My person. You always have been.”

Azzi moaned again, louder this time, arching into her, chasing more—of Paige, of this. Of everything they’d been holding in.

And when she came— gasping Paige’s name messily—it wasn’t just pleasure she felt. It was safety between them. It was theirs.

She laid there after, flushed and fucked out, while Paige curled beside her on the couch, brushing hair from her face, pressing soft kisses to her temple.

“I love you,” Paige said simply, like it had always been true.

Azzi turned to her, smiling sleepily. “I know. I love you too.”

And just like that, years of silence turned into the softest sound in the world.

[wosospacegirl]

And they were roommates... and so much more - (Final)

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate, Kyra, is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: (+18) SMUT: Strap (Y/n giving), oral (receiving), welcome parties, Y/n stepping back onto the pitch after months away, and hard launches — because they’re just roommates, right?

Word count: 7.2k

a/n: Thank you so much to everyone who stuck around. This was my first big fic, and I appreciate every single person who read it and followed the story of these two <3

Masterlist, and you can read Part 1 here

..

Y/n got better at walking with each passing day.

Her gait still carried the ghost of a limp, small, uneven steps that showed up when she was tired or when the weather turned a little colder. 

But most days now, she walked with confidence. She could carry her own bag again, haul groceries without cursing, and even do some light leg workouts in the gym. 

The brace was gone, and with it, a layer of hesitation.

So when Kyra asked–gently, without pressure–if she wanted to go watch Arsenal’s next home game, Y/n had surprised both of them.

“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t like she hadn’t missed it. 

The smell of the pitch, the sound of the crowd, the way the stadium lit up when Leah went in for a crunching tackle or Lotte’s passes cut the midfield open like a knife. 

But Y/n had made a promise to herself early on in her recovery: She wouldn’t set foot in a stadium until she could walk properly. If she couldn’t play, she didn’t want to be near the pitch.

But now? Now it was different.

She was allowed to run a little, although her leg still ached sometimes, especially at night. But she was upright. She was strong. And when she walked into the Emirates—hand brushing against Kyra’s, foot steady under her—she felt something shift in her chest.

This time, it didn’t sting to be there.

It felt good. It felt right.

The team spotted her immediately, even from across the pitch. There were waves, grins, and someone, probably Beth, shouted, “Oi, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!”

Y/n rolled her eyes and flipped her off playfully, but the smile stayed on her face.

She sat in the front row of the family area, alongside the family members of some of the girls. She was wrapped in an Arsenal scarf some fan had tossed at her, and for the first time in months, she didn’t feel like an outsider looking in.

She felt like part of it again. Even if she wasn't playing yet, she still felt like a Gunner.

The media area buzzed before kickoff, reporters and cameras clustered like bees, especially because it was a big game for Arsenal and the first time Y/n appeared in a game since her injury, almost seven months ago.

Y/n had done this a hundred times before, but this time it felt different. She wasn’t here to play—just to support. Still, Arsenal's comms team had asked if she would do a short pre-game interview. Get the fans hyped. Reassure everyone she was doing okay, since she pretty much disappeared for a long period of time.

They joked that Y/n should do a “Proof of life”, which Y/n agreed to.

The journalist smiled as she stepped up, mic ready. “Y/n, it’s been a while! Good to see you back at the stadium.”

Y/n nodded, casual but warm. “Yeah, it’s good to be back. It’s been a long few months.”

“How’s recovery going?”

“It was rough for a while, not gonna lie,” she said, scratching at the back of her neck. “But I’ve had a lot of support from the club, the team, and friends. I’m doing well now. Walking better, even starting some leg work at the gym.”

“That’s great to hear,” the journalist said, then leaned in slightly, tone suddenly more curious. “We’ve also noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with one of your teammates... Kyra Cooney-Cross?”

Y/n blinked once, then twice, eyebrows twitching. “Oh…yeah,” she said, letting out a laugh that came out a little too awkward. “She’s… a great teammate.”

The interviewer smirked like they knew exactly what they were doing. “Just a teammate?”

Y/n shrugged, playing it cool. “We live together. She’s been helping a lot during recovery. That’s all.”

Hours later, after the final whistle had blown and the crowd began to thin, the same journalist stood in front of Kyra.

She had sweat still clinging to her forehead as she stood in front of a different camera crew. Her cheeks were flushed from the game, her energy still buzzing.

“Big win tonight. The midfield looked sharp—you, Little and Walti were everywhere.”

Kyra grinned, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, we’ve been working hard. Felt good.”

“And there’s been some talk lately, your teammate Y/n was here today. Good to see her walking again.”

The smile on Kyra’s face softened immediately, her voice dropping into something tender without missing a beat. 

“Yeah. My girlfriend’s getting better every day. She’s worked so hard. I’m proud of her.”

The interviewer blinked—definitely not expecting that level of clarity, especially after Y/n’s “we’re roommates” deflection earlier.

Kyra had spotted Y/n in the crowd during warmups, scarf bundled around her neck, legs curled up like always earlier that day. Her heart had swelled a bit. Watching her walk into the stadium again had meant more than she could say.

So when the reporter mentioned Y/n, she didn’t hesitate. Not for a second.

Kyra didn’t care. Let them blink. Let them tweet it.

She meant every word.

..

That night, back at home, Y/n was curled up on the couch in sweatpants and a hoodie, Footy asleep in her lap. She had the post-match broadcast playing in the background while Kyra moved around the kitchen.

She wasn’t even paying full attention—until she heard her own name.

“Yeah. My girlfriend’s getting better every day.” Kyra said on the TV.

Y/n blinked. Sat up.

“What the hell?” she mumbled, turning the volume up.

Kyra peeked in from the kitchen, holding a bag of popcorn. “What?”

Y/n turned toward her, eyes wide. “You—did you say girlfriend on live TV?”

Kyra set the popcorn down, looking entirely unbothered. “You called me your teammate.”

Y/n spluttered. “I wasn’t lying! I was being subtle. We’re not out-out—we’re still lowkey, remember?”

Kyra put her hands on her hips. “I met your mum last week. We have a cat together. You stole my hoodies, and we sleep in the same bed every night.”

Y/n crossed her arms. “Okay, but you didn’t have to broadcast it.”

Kyra grinned and flopped onto the sofa beside her. “Too late. The world knows now.”

Footy let out a dramatic sigh, which somehow made it worse.

Y/n groaned again and let her head fall back against the couch. “I can’t believe I said teammate. I sounded like such a liar.”

Kyra, perched beside her with one knee tucked under her, just smirked and tilted her head. “Mmm. Do you kiss your teammates, too?”

Y/n opened her mouth, about to respond—then promptly shut it when Kyra leaned in and kissed her neck, slowly, right below her jaw.

Kyra’s voice was teasing, close and smug as ever. “Because if you do, I think we need to have a very serious conversation about that.”

Y/n stiffened for a second, trying so hard not to react, but her ears flushed bright pink.

“You’re so annoying,” she muttered, but her voice wavered.

Kyra kissed her neck again, grinning. “Teammates, huh?”

“Okay, okay,” Y/n muttered, swatting at her weakly but making no move to escape. “Fine. Girlfriend. You’re my girlfriend. Happy now?”

Kyra nuzzled into her neck. “Very.”

Footy meowed loudly from the end of the sofa like he was sick of the PDA.

Y/n huffed a laugh. “Even the cat thinks you’re too smug.”

Kyra just smiled into her skin, arms wrapping around her waist. “Let him judge. I got upgraded from teammate to girlfriend, apparently, I’m winning.”

Y/n chuckled, her fingers brushing through Kyra’s hair, a light shiver running through her at the soft contact. As much as she loved the quiet, hidden moments between them, something about this felt... different.More real. 

She had spent so much time protecting the space they shared, but a part of her wanted to shout it from the rooftops, to stop pretending like it was a secret. She had no problem being open with her feelings, but it had always been easier to keep things between them private, just a few stolen moments. 

Yet now, after Kyra’s comment, Y/n found herself thinking maybe it was time to share a little more.

..

It started with a casual post.

At least, that’s what Y/n claimed as she lounged on the couch, scrolling through her camera roll with one leg draped over Kyra’s lap.

“I’m gonna post a pic of us,” she announced, not looking up from her phone.

Kyra, sitting cross-legged and playing with the string on Y/n’s hoodie, tilted her head. “Okaaay,” she said slowly. “Like… us us? Or ‘look at us, the best of teammates’ us?”

“Us like... us. Normal us,” Y/n mumbled.

“Are you putting a lot of heart emojis?”

“No.”

“Your loss.” Kyra shrugged, smirking.

The picture wasn’t even new.

They’d gone out for lunch after a long morning—Kyra training, Y/n doing rehab and sneaking in extra leg presses when no one was watching. 

The photo had been taken outside a small café. Kyra had her sunglasses perched low on her nose like she was trying to go incognito, despite the fact she kept grinning like a smug little shit.

Y/n took the photo because it was funny: her pretending to roll her eyes, Kyra leaning in way too close, looking like she was about to whisper something stupid in her ear. It was domestic. Cute

“So you’re posting it now?” Kyra asked, eyes still glued to the string, now wrapping it around her fingers.

“Yup,” Y/n said, typing out the caption with a smirk.

She hit share.

Caption: tough training, harder launch😵‍💫 shoutout to the best teammate ever 💪 @kyracooneycross

Sarcastic? Obviously. A little baiting? Sure. She thought she was being subtle.

Kyra did not.

A beat of silence.

Kyra’s fingers moved way too fast. Y/n narrowed her eyes. “What are you—”

Kyra turned her phone around, showing her comment.

Kyra commented: teammates ❤️ great workout last night btw, very productive 🔥

Y/n stared at her phone.

She stared at the comment. Then at Kyra. Then back to the phone. “Kyra.”

Kyra was so pleased with herself. 

“What?” she said, all innocent as she leaned in and kissed Y/n on the cheek. “Just giving credit where credit’s due. You were very focused.”

Y/n groaned. Loudly.

“Girl. You can’t just—now everyone thinks we…” She gestured vaguely, like the chaos of the comments would explain itself.

Kyra shrugged, entirely too smug. “We do.”

“That is not the point!”

Kyra just grinned, walking over and stealing Y/n’s phone. “Relax. I’ll comment on something wholesome next time. Like... ‘great midfield chemistry.’”

Y/n just stared at her deadpan, she didn’t even need to say anything 

Kyra’s smirk only deepened. She leaned in, kissing Y/n on the nose, her voice going soft and affectionate. “Chill.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but her lips curled upward despite herself. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to be mad,” she said, finally leaning back and sinking into the couch.

Kyra, sensing the perfect opportunity, perched on the arm of the couch. “I can help you relax, you know.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced up from her phone, the corner of her lips twitching in a knowing smirk. 

"You know what would help me relax?"

Kyra’s gaze shifted, eyes flashing with curiosity. "What?" she asked, voice light but with a hint of intrigue.

Y/n didn’t hesitate for a second.

The words came out with an ease that matched the teasing glint in her eyes. “You. On your knees. Now”

Kyra’s breath hitched, her eyebrows rising in surprise. She blinked, then smirked, not expecting that kind of direct response from Y/n. Her playful demeanour flickered for a moment, a silent question in her gaze, but she didn’t back down.

"Well, that’s... a pretty bold request," Kyra said, leaning in slightly, her voice lowered to a sultry hum. She was used to Y/n’s wit, but this was a different game. “What makes you think I’ll just listen?”

Y/n leaned back into the couch, eyes never leaving Kyra’s. 

"Because, Kyra, you know exactly how much I like you... following directions," she teased, letting her words hang in the air, heavy with the unspoken challenge.

Kyra’s lips quivered, a glint of amusement and something more mischievous in her eyes. 

“You think I’m just going to drop everything and do whatever you want? You’re not the boss of me,” she shot back, but there was no denying the heat rising in her expression.

Y/n’s grin grew. "Well, in this moment, maybe I am," she murmured, voice dipping with a touch of teasing dominance. She let her fingers trail slowly down her phone, her gaze shifting back to Kyra.

Kyra hesitated for just a second, her smirk never fading, but her body was already betraying her. She couldn’t help but feel that familiar pull toward Y/n. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way she said them, the way she carried herself, daring Kyra to take control... or let go.

"Fine," Kyra said, voice low, her breath catching slightly. "If that’s what you want."

Y/n didn’t move right away. She watched Kyra with a lazy kind of hunger.

The air between them thickened.

Kyra stood in front of her now, waiting. Her hands rested loosely at her sides, but her posture wasn’t casual. She was poised, like she was waiting for something. 

A cue. A touch. A command.

Y/n tilted her head, her smile slow and deliberate. “You want a reminder?”

Kyra’s breath caught again, but she nodded, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

Y/n set her phone aside without looking, the motion fluid and deliberate. Then she leaned forward, just enough for her fingers to graze the hem of Kyra’s shirt.

“Come here,” she said softly.

Kyra stepped closer, and that was all it took. Y/n’s hands slid beneath the fabric, warm palms gliding up her sides. Not rushed. Just enough pressure to make Kyra exhale sharply.

“You act so smug,” Y/n murmured, voice low and teasing as she trailed her fingers upward, “but you love this. Don’t you?”

Kyra didn’t answer—not with words. Her hands found Y/n’s shoulders, then her jaw, her grip gentle but anchoring. Her gaze flicked down to Y/n’s mouth and stayed there, her breath shallow now.

Y/n leaned in, lips brushing Kyra’s neck—not kissing, just close enough to feel the heat of her pulse.

“You love it when I tell you what to do,” she whispered, the words barely audible. “When I make it easy for you to stop thinking.”

“You’re so cocky,” Kyra murmured.

“And you’re stalling,” Y/n replied.

There was a beat of loaded silence.

Then Kyra sank to her knees.

Not rushed. Not dramatic. Just smooth, controlled movement as she knelt between Y/n’s legs and rested her hands on her thighs, looking up with a gaze that was equal parts reverent and defiant.

Y/n’s breath stuttered—just for a second.

Kyra leaned forward, resting her cheek against Y/n’s inner thigh, eyes closed like she was soaking in the heat between them. The reverence in her touch was quiet but unmistakable.

Y/n's hand found Kyra's hair, fingers tangling gently. “Good girl,” she murmured, the words slipping out like a reward.

And that was the last thing either of them said for a while.

Kyra moved with quiet purpose, sliding Y/n’s pants down with careful fingers, never breaking the electric thread between them. Y/n watched her through half-lidded eyes, gaze heavy with hunger—but it was still her in control.

“I want you to take your time,” she said, voice steady, almost calm as her thumb brushed softly across Kyra’s cheek. “Slow. No rushing. Understand?”

Kyra’s eyes flicked up, wide and obedient. She nodded once.

“Good,” Y/n whispered. “Go on.”

She shifted slightly, spreading her legs in invitation, showing her cunt to Kyra. Kyra's lips parted in a small, reverent smile before she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss where Y/n was warm and waiting. Then another, lower. Then one to the inside of her thigh, featherlight and patient.

She wasn’t teasing, just attentive. Present. Devoted.

Y/n let her head fall back with a sigh, her fingers threading deeper into Kyra’s hair. “Just like that,” she breathed, voice already beginning to blur at the edges.

Kyra found the rhythm quickly, steady and unhurried, every motion deliberate. She moved like she had all the time in the world, like nothing else existed except Y/n and the sound of her quiet, growing need.

Y/n tried to stay composed, she always did, but Kyra had a way of unravelling her slowly, with precision. It wasn’t just pleasure—it was surrender, wrapped in control. A power exchange spoken in silence.

And Kyra, still on her knees, didn’t dare speed up.

Not until Y/n told her to.

..

Double dates with Leah and Alessia became a regular thing, with the four of them laughing over dinner or walking through the park with Footy tagging along. 

Double dates were great, but they only lasted for a few hours, because, of course, Leah and Y/n were at each other's throats if they spent too much time together.

It was a perfect Saturday morning–no training, no matches, just a relaxing run with the team. The four of them jogged through the park, Footy bounding ahead, his little legs working overtime to keep up with the humans. 

The sun was shining, and the weather was just cool enough to make the run enjoyable, not a chore.

Kyra and Alessia were chatting easily, running side by side, while Leah and Y/n kept a slightly more competitive pace, naturally drifting apart just enough that their mutual need to one-up each other wasn’t so obvious. 

At first, it was just casual—just a run, no competition.

But then Leah picked up her pace a little. Nothing crazy—just a little faster. And Y/n, of course, felt the challenge flicker to life in her chest.

“You picking up the pace?” Y/n asked casually, doing her best to keep it cool, even though her legs itched to go faster.

Leah shot her a side-eye, keeping her breathing steady. “I’m just running my own race,” she said, her voice smooth, but the little smirk tugging at her lips said otherwise.

Y/n huffed, her competitive streak rising to the surface. “Uh-huh. I see how it is.”

Not wanting to let Leah outpace her without any sort of retaliation, Y/n subtly picked up her speed too, like it was no big deal, as if she wasn’t already trying to prove something. 

She glanced sideways at Leah, her pace matching now.

Kyra and Alessia, who had been casually talking behind them, exchanged a look. Alessia raised an eyebrow, her pace slowing ever so slightly to keep an eye on the two competitors ahead.

Kyra, clearly recognising the signs, sighed dramatically. “Here we go again,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“Yep,” Alessia said, voice tinged with amusement. “Every time. It’s a miracle they haven’t collapsed yet.”

Y/n and Leah kept it casual, but it was clear they were both pushing it a little more than necessary. Neither one wanted to be the first to admit they were secretly trying to outdo the other.

Leah shot a quick glance at Y/n, her breath steady. “What’s wrong, Y/n? Are you still in the race?”

“I’m just taking my time,” Y/n shot back, voice tight, but she started lengthening her strides just enough to keep up.

A moment of silence, and then Y/n couldn’t take it anymore. “Leah, stop! You know I can’t run faster than this!”

Leah, far too smug for Y/n’s liking, glanced over.

“Oh, really?” She grinned, pushing her pace a little more. “So it means I’m the winner then.”

“Stop bullying me and my injury,” Y/n snapped, her voice louder than intended.

Kyra and Alessia both cracked up at the same time, as Y/n and Leah’s little competition reached full throttle.

“Y/n, you’re literally sprinting right now,” Kyra called out, clearly entertained. “You’re gonna overwork yourself.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Y/n grumbled, trying to act like she wasn’t out of breath. “It’s just that Leah is being a pain in my ass.”

Leah’s smug smile was starting to look like a challenge. 

“Come on, you know you’ve got this,” she teased, completely ignoring how much faster she was running now.

“Oh my god,” Y/n muttered under her breath. “Leah, I swear, one of these days, you’re gonna—”

“Let’s just call it a tie, yeah?” Alessia shouted, clearly trying to defuse the competition before it turned into something more.

Kyra smirked. “Right, a tie, sure.”

Y/n shot her a look, still panting. “No, seriously. Leah, stop being that person.”

Leah laughed, pulling back a little, clearly satisfied with how much she’d gotten under Y/n’s skin. “Fine, fine. But I’m definitely faster.”

Y/n just glared, out of breath but secretly pleased that she’d pushed herself that hard. “Whatever,” she muttered. “I would win against an injured person, too.”

Kyra grinned, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. “Yeah, you two are definitely a disaster when it comes to casual runs.”

They continued the run, with Footy racing ahead and the group falling into an easier pace, but everyone knew that the next time they ran together, 

Leah and Y/n were going to push each other to the brink again.

..

It had been seven long months since the injury—the day Y/n had collapsed on the pitch, her world turned upside down with the snap of a ligament. 

The road to recovery had been gruelling, filled with endless hours of rehab, frustration, and moments where it seemed like progress would never come. But today was different. 

Today was her final test.

For weeks, she had been working toward this moment, each session with her physiotherapist building on the last. 

Every stretch, every strengthening exercise, had been a step toward getting back to where she belonged. But this... this was the real test. 

Running on the pitch, feeling the familiar burn in her legs, hearing the echo of her footsteps against the turf—it was the moment that would determine if all her hard work had paid off.

Her physiotherapist stood beside her, giving one last quick check. His hand was firm on her knee as he moved it through its range of motion, nodding in approval.

 "Everything looks good. You’re cleared for the test," he said, his voice filled with the calm confidence that had kept her grounded through every tough moment.

Y/n’s heart rate picked up a little, but she forced herself to breathe through the nerves. She was ready. She had to be.

It wasn’t the first time Y/n had run since her injury—she’d been clocking laps on the treadmill and across the firm, rubberised track in the gym for weeks. 

But the pitch was different. 

The turf gave underfoot, the grass fibres bending before springing back, and every stride demanded a little more from her leg and knee. Today’s test wasn’t about speed or endurance—it was one simple question: Could she run on grass without pain?

If she could complete three full laps around the pitch, then she’d prove she was match-ready. No lingering twinges during the run, no ache settling in afterwards. Only then would the physiotherapist sign off, and Renée would slot her back into the lineup.

Y/n stood at the edge of the pitch, heart thumping as she eyed the first yard line. Kyra hovered beside her—equal parts excited and nervous—while Leah leaned casually against the railing, offering a steadying nod.

“Whenever you’re ready,” her physiotherapist said, voice calm but expectant.

“I think I’m ready,” Y/n said, her voice steady but laced with the smallest bit of nervousness.

"Go, Y/n," Kyra called out, her voice breaking through the tension in the air. "You’ve got this!"

Y/n inhaled deeply, planting her feet on the grass. It felt real in a way the gym or the park never did—alive and shifting beneath her. She flexed her toes, centred herself, then launched forward.

The first stride was tentative. A bit shaky, but as her body remembered the rhythm, she found herself gaining momentum. 

Her legs moved fluidly, muscles working in harmony as she surged forward.

And then she did, she was running--just like she did before the injury.

The wind rushed past her, and the sound of her footsteps pounding on the turf was like music in her ears. The familiar burn in her lungs, the familiar stretch of her muscles—it felt so right. 

Y/n grinned, her heart racing with the exhilaration of running again. The pitch, the one she had once taken for granted, felt like a second home.

From the sidelines, Kyra was cheering, her hands cupped around her mouth. “That’s my girl!” she shouted, her voice full of pride.

Leah’s smile softened as she watched, her eyes filled with quiet admiration. “Look at you,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Knew you’d get here.”

Y/n pushed herself harder, her body still shaking off the remnants of weakness, but every stride felt like victory. 

She could feel it in her bones, that sense of triumph, that this was what she had been fighting for. 

She finished her lap, her breath coming in heavy but steady gasps, a wide smile plastered on her face. She had done it. She was back.

The moment she stopped, Kyra rushed over, wrapping her arms around Y/n in an enthusiastic hug. “I knew you could do it!” she said, her voice breathless from all the cheering.

Y/n laughed, feeling lighter than she had in months. “It felt good.”

Leah approached, too, clapping her on the back with a grin. “Welcome back, Y/n. I knew you wouldn’t let this beat you.”

Y/n stood there, surrounded by the people who had never stopped believing in her, a sense of pride swelling in her chest. It had been a long, hard road, but she was back. And with each step forward, she would only keep getting stronger.

Later that evening, after they’d all celebrated Y/n’s milestone with dinner and a few laughs, Kyra couldn’t resist. 

She snapped a photo of Y/n standing on the pitch, beaming like she’d just conquered the world. 

Y/n was still catching her breath, the rush of running still fresh on her face, but Kyra caught her in that perfect moment—triumphant, joyful, and finally feeling free again.

She didn’t think twice before posting it on her Instagram.

Caption: Pretty view today.

..

Y/n stood by the door, already dressed in her Arsenal tracksuit, boots slung over her shoulder, bag packed and zipped. She adjusted the strap absently, checking her phone for the time. They weren’t late, not even close. But Kyra was pacing.

“Okay, wait—did you pack your tape?” Kyra asked, hovering beside her, holding a water bottle and looking more nervous than Y/n herself.

“Yes,” Y/n sighed, amused.

“Your shin guards?”

“Yes, Kyra.”

“Boots?”

Y/n raised both eyebrows and turned slightly to show them dangling right there on her shoulder. “Yes, babe. They’re right here. Where they always go.”

Kyra gave a tiny nod like she was making mental checkmarks. “Snacks?”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, lips twitching. “I am not five.”

Kyra wasn’t fazed. “A protein bar is literally essential. What if you get hungry before warm-up?”

Y/n groaned. “Kyra. Please. It’s not my first game ever. I know how to pack a damn bag. I’ve done this before, remember?”

Kyra crossed her arms, frowning playfully. "It’s your first game back. That’s different."

"Yeah, but it’s not like I forgot how to play football during my injury," Y/n teased, reaching to gently tug on Kyra’s sleeve. "You’re acting like I’m about to leave for my first day of school."

“You kind of are,” Kyra mumbled, eyes softening. “Just let me be annoying. I’ve been waiting eight months to see you walk onto that pitch again.”

Y/n’s teasing melted at that, her smirk turning into something quieter. 

She stepped in close, pressing a quick kiss to Kyra’s cheek. “Fine. But if you try to put a snack in my bag while I’m not looking, I will throw it at you from the bench.”

“No promises,” Kyra said with a grin, finally opening the door for her. “Let’s go make a stadium cry.”

The Emirates locker room smelled like fresh eucalyptus and nerves. 

The usual pre-match buzz was already starting to hum in the air—music playing, boots thudding, teammates chatting and tying their laces—but when Y/n stepped in, everything paused.

“She’s back!” Alessia was the first to yell, arms thrown in the air.

Y/n blinked. “What—”

Then the rest of the girls chimed in, clapping and cheering as if she’d just scored a hat-trick instead of, you know, arriving five minutes early for warm-up. 

In the middle of it all sat a tiny cake on the bench, badly decorated with red and white icing. It said:

 “Welcome Back, Hop-Along 💪⚽️”

Leah’s handwriting, for sure.

“Oh my god,” Y/n mumbled, face already heating up.

Vic and Laia were smiling. 

Leah threw an arm around Y/n’s shoulder like a proud older sister. “Knew she’d get all weird about it, I told you guys.”

“I’m not—shut up, Leah.” Y/n squirmed, but she was already smiling, a little red in the cheeks. “Thanks, guys. I mean it. This is… dumb. But nice. Really nice.”

Alessia gave her a dramatic hug, squeezing way too hard. Beth was the second in line for the hug. Lotte was already taking a photo of the cake like it was going to go in the team group chat. 

Slowly, everyone drifted back into their normal pre-match routine.

Y/n just stood there for a second, cake in hand, still a little pink.

Then there was Kyra, slipping behind her, pressing a hand to her lower back and murmuring, “See? Everyone missed you.”

Y/n didn’t say anything at first. She just turned and buried her face in the crook of Kyra’s neck, arms curling awkwardly around her even with the cake still in her grip.

Kyra held her, warm and steady, chin resting on Y/n’s hair. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/n mumbled into her shoulder. “Just… It’s a lot. But good.”

Kyra smiled at her. “You gonna cry?”

Y/n pulled back just enough to glare at her. “No.”

“You sure?”

Y/n shoved her lightly. “You’re so annoying.”

Kyra just grinned, grabbing the little cake from her hand. “Yeah, but now I get the first bite.”

..

There were fifteen minutes left on the clock. Arsenal was up 3-1. The crowd was buzzing, the sun was low and golden, and the win was just within reach.

Renée turned toward the bench and called her name. “Y/n. Warm up.”

Y/n blinked. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Renee was already nodding, like it was obvious. “You deserve this. Go on.”

She grabbed her bib and jogged down the sideline, heart hammering against her ribs like she was about to start her debut all over again.

Lotte was closest to her. She gave her a solid pat on the back. “Go show them.”

Laia flashed a grin. “Don’t fall.”

Rosa leaned in and whispered, “You’re gonna be great.”

It wasn’t flashy or dramatic. Just quiet belief. Just her teammates making her feel like this was normal. Like she belonged out there again.

When the fourth official held up the board, the stadium noise shifted. A ripple. A lift.

#14

She stepped to the touchline. Renée pressed a hand between her shoulder blades, firm and calm. “Just enjoy it, okay?”

She nodded, barely breathing, and then the sub was made.

As she jogged onto the pitch, she caught Leah’s eyes across the backline—Leah gave her a knowing smile, a little proud tilt of her head. 

Katie clapped her on the shoulder. Caitlin grinned at her like she’d just made her day. And further up the field, Kyra—

Kyra was practically bouncing in place, both thumbs up, grinning like an idiot. She mouthed something that looked suspiciously like “hot girl return.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the way her lips twitched.

The crowd started to clap–first a few, then a wave of applause, rippling through the lower stands. She didn’t know where to look. Her face burned. Her lungs squeezed.

But her legs felt good.

Her lungs worked.

She was back.

She ran her first sprint. She tracked a pass. Nothing spectacular, just solid, simple movement.

The ball came, she trapped it, and passed it cleanly.

The stadium roared again. Not because it was special, but because it was her. Because she was doing it.

Back on the pitch.

And as the final whistle blew, she couldn’t stop smiling.

Arms were thrown around shoulders. 

Shirts tugged. High fives slapped. 

The girls poured onto the pitch, and suddenly Y/n was surrounded–Leah wrapping her in a bear hug, Katie hugging her from behind, Kim right by her side, Alessia pulling her in and squealing like they’d just won a trophy.

“You did it!” Lotte yelled over the noise, gripping both her shoulders.

“I didn’t fall,” Y/n said, breathless and a little dazed, “so that’s something.”

Vic shoved a bottle of water into her hands. Walti beamed at her. Everyone touched her shoulders, arms, and back–– like grounding her in the moment, like making sure she felt it.

And she did. She really did.

But then, once the wave passed and her teammates drifted back toward the tunnel, she turned—and Kyra was still there, waiting.

Arms crossed, one brow raised, pretending to be aloof. Like she hadn’t been watching the entire thing, heart thudding like it was her comeback game.

Y/n took a step toward her. Kyra didn’t move.

“Took you long enough,” Kyra said, voice soft but teasing. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, already stepping into her. “You were literally waiting. You let everyone else go first.”

“Yeah, well,” Kyra’s arms uncrossed as she pulled her in, wrapping her up tight, “I wanted a good hug.”

Y/n exhaled against her shoulder, the last little bit of tension melting.

Kyra smiled, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “See? Told you your bone was steady.”

Y/n groaned. “That’s not even–”

“Shh. Moment of victory. Let me be romantic.”

..

Once they got to their house, Kyra was all over her.

Kyra stepped closer, brushing a hand through Y/n’s hair and then tracing her jaw gently.  “You were perfect.”

Y/n felt her breath hitch at the compliment, but before she could respond, Kyra leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips. 

The kiss was slow, sweet, and lingering, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Kyra pulled back just enough to study Y/n’s face.

“You’re really feeling it, huh?” she asked, her lips curling into a smirk.

Y/n chuckled, feeling her pulse quicken. “Yeah, I’m feeling it. But, there’s something else I’ve been thinking about, too.”

“Oh?” Kyra’s eyes darkened with interest. “What’s that?”

Y/n met her gaze, the playful edge to her voice making it clear she wasn’t done teasing.

 “Well, now that I’m fully healed, I was thinking… I would really like to use a strap tonight.”

Kyra’s breath caught, and her smirk deepened. “Is that so?” she said, her voice dropping lower, more seductive. “You’ve been thinking about it, huh?”

Y/n nodded, her eyes flashing with desire. “I have. And I want to show you how well I’ve healed.” Her voice was thick with anticipation, the words trailing off as she stepped closer to Kyra.

Kyra swallowed, trying to keep her composure, but Y/n could see the way her pulse quickened. 

“You know what, babe?” Kyra said, pulling her in by the waist. “You’ve been so damn good to me. I think it’s time you get what you deserve.”

Without another word, Kyra led her toward the bedroom, their steps slow but urgent. Y/n could feel the heat between them, the tension and chemistry they had both been craving for so long. 

Tonight was about release, about letting go of everything that had built up over the past few months.

When they reached the bed, Kyra turned to face Y/n, her hands finding the hem of her shirt, lifting it off slowly, teasing, knowing just how much it would make Y/n ache with anticipation.

“Ready?” Kyra asked, her voice low and seductive, the smirk never leaving her face.

Y/n looked her dead in the eyes, the fire between them undeniable. “Ready.”

Y/n sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing the strap that lay beside her, feeling the weight of the moment. 

The air between them was thick with anticipation, every inch of her skin tingling with the need to finally feel in control. She had spent so much time relying on others—on Kyra, on her recovery—but now? Now it was her turn.

Kyra stood before her, eyes dark and steady as she watched Y/n. The playful smirk was gone, replaced with a raw, vulnerable desire that matched Y/n’s own.

“You know what I want,” Y/n said, her voice husky with need, her hands gently running over the strap. It felt solid beneath her fingers, and for the first time, she didn’t hesitate.

Kyra nodded, swallowing hard. “I do,” she murmured, her voice thick with a mixture of excitement and trust.

Y/n met her eyes, her fingers wrapping around the strap as she slid it into place. There was no rush. Not tonight. 

She had waited, healed, and now it was time to claim what was hers. Her body felt powerful, stronger than it had in months. 

She wanted Kyra to feel the same way, to know just how much she was wanted, loved, and desired.

Kyra took a step back, clearly trying to maintain her composure, but Y/n could see the way her breath caught as she adjusted herself, the tension in her body making her even more tempting.

With deliberate slowness, Y/n moved, crawling forward on the bed. She could feel Kyra’s gaze following her every move, the intensity between them building with each second. 

When she finally reached Kyra, their faces inches apart, she leaned in, her lips brushing against Kyra’s in a slow, teasing kiss.

“You’re mine,” Y/n whispered softly, her breath hot against Kyra’s skin.

Kyra moaned quietly, the sound a mix of surrender and hunger. “Take me,” she whispered back, her voice laced with desire.

Without another word, Y/n guided Kyra down onto the bed, settling between her legs. She moved slowly, her hands gliding down Kyra’s sides, touching and exploring, making sure every inch of her was claimed, her finger worked slowly on Kyra’s cunt, making sure she was ready.

The tension between them was electric, their bodies perfectly in sync as Y/n slowly positioned herself, the strap a steady reminder of the power she held right now.

Kyra gasped as Y/n slowly pushed forward, feeling her pussy. It wasn’t just the physical act--it was the connection. The way their bodies intertwined, the way their trust deepened with every inch, every movement.

Y/n’s hands gripped Kyra’s thighs, her pace slow but deliberate at first, giving shallow thrust into Kyra’s cunt.

“You’re incredible,” Y/n whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she watched Kyra’s face, her eyes half-lidded, mouth slightly open in pleasure. “You feel so good around me, baby.”

Kyra’s hands slid up Y/n’s back, nails lightly digging into her skin as she urged her on. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice breaking with need. “More, please?

Y/n grinned, her pace quickening just slightly, bringing them both to the edge of something deeper, something more. 

The more she trusted the more the strap would rub against her clit, creating the perfect friction.

She could feel the way Kyra’s body responded to her touch, the way every movement between them felt like a dance they’d been rehearsing for months.

The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies, the rush of desire, and the soft whispers of their shared passion. 

Y/n held on tight, guiding Kyra through every sensation, every push, every moment of control and surrender. Her hips were fast against Kyra now, she leant over to kiss her as she saw the girl was close.

With a few more trust, Kyra came undone, cuming while Y/n kissed her desperately. In less than a minute, Y/n also found her released.

They collapsed into each other’s arms, breathless, content, and more connected than ever before.

Y/n smiled softly, brushing a hand through Kyra’s hair. “You’re perfect,” she whispered.

Kyra, still catching her breath, smiled back, eyes glinting with affection and love. “So are you,” she said, her voice a little raspy, confused.

As the two of them lay there, the air still thick with the aftermath of their passion, Y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. 

She tilted her head, eyeing the strap still between them. “Hmm, wait a second,” she said. “I didn’t ask—have you... used this before?”

Kyra, still catching her breath, let out a small, exasperated laugh. “I mean, of course I’ve used it,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not a nun, Y/n.”

Y/n smirked, her hands tracing circles on Kyra’s chest.

“Just checking.” She trailed off, her gaze lingering on Kyra’s flushed face, the teasing glint never leaving her eyes.

Kyra sighed, shaking her head with a grin. “Yes, okay, I’ve used it. But just receiving. Don’t act like you’re the only one with experience here.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m just getting started.” She leaned in, lips brushing Kyra’s ear. “If you want to use it, I’m more than happy to oblige, baby.”

Kyra’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Of course you are,” she teased, rolling her eyes playfully. “Sex maniac.”

Y/n laughed, lifting her head and staring down at Kyra with a smirk. “You’re the one who promised all the sex in the world, remember?” She grinned as she watched Kyra’s face flush even deeper. 

“How many times are you going to bring that up?” Kyra chuckled, rolling her eyes as her hands found Y/n’s hips as she pulled her back down. 

“As many times as it takes until you really know I mean it.” Y/n teased.

Y/n smirked, “Well, in that case... we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Hours later, as Kyra drifted off beside her, tangled in sheets and soft breaths, Y/n lay awake for just a moment longer. 

Her body still ached from the day, not the injury, not anymore. Just the ache of use, of effort, of something real. 

She was back. Not just on the pitch. In her life. In her skin. And finally, she was ready to move forward. 

Fully, fearlessly, with Kyra by her side.

..

a/n: 8 months of recovery, 86k words of pining, 1 hard launch. Lots of sex. Worth it. Roommates? Nah. Wifed up

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 17

content warning: lots of fluff, lots of PDA, suggestive so MINORS BEWARE (I was feeling a certain way while writing this, my b), freakguel is BACK and ON THE PROWL, food mentions but they're small

word count: 5.5k (thank you Cookie! 🍪🩵 :3)

Special shout outs to Cookie and Mig server for holding me down! It's been a long break with this story, and you guys have been the bestest of friends! 🫶🏾

Here’s a moodboard for this chapter!

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GymRat!Miguel who was cramped tight against your bed and the cold wall. It wasn’t ideal, but the feeling of your head against his chest put him at ease.

He doesn’t remember the last time he slept this peacefully.

No parents barging into his room, no alarms, no snoring roommates.

Just his baby and his dreams wrapped in a duvet with the heat off and pajamas on the floor.

He was so deep in bliss, he heard your voice through his slumber in the clouds of his thoughts.

The way you said his name was like a kiss of the softest blanket. It made him feel warm, fuzzy. No one ever said his name like that before.

“Miguel.”

Like music, like his grandmother’s abuelita. He could bathe in your voice.

“Miguel.”

His dreams were really generous today, which wasn’t a first, but usually, they ended with something off.

“Miguel, wake up!”

A squeeze to his chest has him jolting, knocking his head against the wall with a loud groan.

“Hush!” you cover his mouth and his head. He blinks, trying to adjust.

You look back and wait, heartbeat thumping against his chest.

The door to your dorm sounds off with a banging so loud it makes him jump again.

“I think it’s my RA,” you whisper frantically. “You gotta hide!”

“Hide where?” Miguel looks around your room in a panic.

“I don’t know! Maybe the bathroom or something. Just hurry!”

You slide off of him and start gathering clothes from the floor, feet light and frantic. His eyes pan back to the window near your nightstand and he knows he’s going to knock something over trying to jump out of there.

Miguel stumbles to the floor and grabs his lounge pants, hopping on one foot as he pulls a leg through the hole.

The knocking comes again only a minute or so later followed by a “one second!” from you.

There’s no way he can fit under Jess’s shorter bed and he really didn’t want to mess up her side of the room. Your RA might also check the bathroom for some reason.

You get closer to the door and he panics, making long strides to follow you.

His back hits a corner and he faces your dorm in hopes that he’ll morph into the wall.

As you place your hand on the doorknob, your other hand pulling a robe tight over a tank, you give Miguel an odd look.

‘Why are you standing there?’, you mouth.

Miguel only shrugs and squeezes tighter behind the hinges of the door, a stupid look on his face.

‘I panicked’, he mouths back, heartbeat in his throat and eyebrows raised.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet your RA.

“Hey, hey, hey Kaylee. What is up? How are you on this lovely Friday morning?”

“Not as good as you, apparently,” her eyebrows raise. Miguel sees you pull your robe even tighter and he hopes, for once, he didn’t leave any marks on your neck. “There was some banging going on in here last night. What was that about?”

“Oh, you know me! Sometimes the creativity takes over and I lose myself.”

“And losing yourself involves shouting, moaning, and more than one voice yelling? Right, right,” she counts off the actions on her fingers and your hands scrunch along the door tighter.

“Kaylee, I’m so sorry-“

“It’s fine. The dorms are open for two more nights and a day so I’ll let you slide this one time. My Christmas gift to you. Just don’t let it happen again.”

Your shoulders drop, “Thank you, it won’t.”

“And tell your boy toy that he’s not that good at hiding.”

Miguel looks at the giant crack between the door and the frame and sighs.

He slips out and stands behind you, sheepish, “Hi, I’m her boyfriend. Not her…boy toy.”

“Boyfriend, boy toy, boy in the girl’s hall after curfew making obscene noises past quiet hours. Should I go on?”

“No! No, thank you,” you start to close the door and block Miguel from view. “Again, I sincerely apologize. It won’t happen again.”

“Oh, I’m sure-“

“We’ll get out of your hair Kaylee! Good morning and goodbye.”

The door closes with Kaylee still teasing you through it.

GymRat!Miguel who is not allowed to shower with you because he’s “too distracting” and you want to hurry and pack for the winter break.

He stands outside of the bathroom like a puppy. You could hear him tapping and whining like little paws at the bottom of a door. All you could do was sigh.

“C’mon! I’ll wash you and you’ll wash me!”

“And it’ll be another hour before I get out. No.”

“It’ll already be another hour with or without me.”

“Which is why you’re out there and I’m in here.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes himself useful by cleaning up your side of the room.

He tidies your desk and switches out your sheets. He also double checks the screw on your bed just for safe measures.

GymRat!Miguel who is laid out on the floor, scrolling on his phone by the time you get out.

You walk to his feet, shuddering as the cool air hits you. Miguel perks up and shifts to wrap his arms around your legs. His eyes run from your head to your toes, sparkling at the sight of you in your underwear.

“You smell good,” his mumbles into your stomach, face pressing into your skin. He grabs the sides and squeezes softly.

“I-I would hope so,” your voice is as jumpy as your body with Miguel’s touches making your heart flutter. “I used a body wash and a scrub. Rubbed it in real good. Exfoliated.”

“Is that why you’re so soft?”

His hands move down your thighs then up to cup your bottom. His thumbs run circles just under the cut of your briefs without a care in the world.

“That’s part of it.”

“What’s the other part?”

“I shaved, and then, exfoliated.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh.”

His lips slide to the left and right of your belly button, nibbling and kissing the fat. His fingers kneading into your skin now.

“Are you having fun?” your skin is getting warmer because of him.

“I’m inspecting.”

You laugh, his breath tickling you, “For what?”

“For any missing spots.”

He wraps his hands over the band of your underwear, knuckles grazing you as he starts to pull them down.

“Miguel.”

“Hm?”

He pushes up your stomach and groans, bare skin staring back.

“Here, too?” his nose goes under your belly and he breathes in. His legs shift, thighs tightening around your calves. “What if you get cold?”

“S-shut up. That’s so silly.”

“It’s not.”

“It is and get your hands out of my panties.”

“But, I didn’t finish.”

“Finish sniffing me?”

“No, I gotta,” he dodges your touch and yanks your underwear further. “Gotta see finish looking.”

“Looking for what?”

“Looking at where you shaved, baby.”

You clench your thighs tight and giggle as Miguel tries to pry them apart. You can hear the thread of your underwear’s band breaking.

“What part of ‘you’re not supposed to be in here’ do you not understand?”

He huffs, “And what part of telling your boyfriend that you shaved do you not understand?”

“I never said anything about shaving down there.”

He stops, eyes glowing.

“So, you didn’t shave?”

“Depends, are you happy or sad about that?”

Miguel looks up, cheek resting against your middle.

“I’m happy with anything that involves you.”

“That’s cute, and I appreciate that greatly,” your hands run through his hair, “but that doesn’t answer my question.”

“You want to know what would really make me happy?”

Sighing at his giddy expression, you give in, “What?”

“If you surprise me and sit on my face.”

“Unhand me.”

“Baby, please!”

GymRat!Miguel who settles with rubbing cocoa butter into your skin.

It’s a slow process simply because he starts to admire every inch of you.

He kisses the inside of your wrists as he slides the butter up your arms.

He runs his nose over your neck and the back of your ears as he rubs into the hills and valleys of your torso.

He massages your feet, thumbs pressing into the middle, making you melt into the bed.

“This feels great,” you sigh.

Miguel works at a particular spot, watching you twist and moan into the sheets.

He was using every moment he had to catch up on these sounds, on this sight.

“Need me to do your back?”

“No,” your tone was soft and your eyes were sultry. “As much as I want you to, you have to get ready to go home. I’m sure your family is waiting.”

“Don’t remind me.” It was like you popped the bubble you two were in with a needle. “‘M not really looking forward to it.”

“Did something happen?”

Miguel reaches to grab your perfume and spray the inside of your ankles. Two spritzes for clarity, a third just because he liked the smell on you.

“No,” he didn’t want to tell you the things that his mother said. He couldn’t. “Everything’s all good.”

“You sure?”

He leans down to you and slots his lips against yours, humming when you bring your hands to his face.

“‘M sure.”

He’ll handle it.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn't want you to leave when your car is packed, so the two of you end up in his dorm room instead.

He quite likes the image of you cuddled up on his bed, sifting through his notes while he packs.

“I’ve never seen so many numbers and letters jumbled on one page before.”

He peeks over to see you’re in his coding notebook.

“This one,” he points to the first line, “is for color changes. And this one is for moving a character up at down the page. I just have to shift a few things within the brackets and the character can move horizontally or diagonally.”

You bite your lip and drag an open binder closer, “And this one?”

“This is my robotics notes. I’ve got stuff about a buggy part here. I need to figure out the mechanics then apply it to the program. But the thing is, the end effector is busted and we were waiting on the department to get us another. So, instead, I started working on an assembly robot-“

“Ok, stop.”

“Too much?” He tended to get carried away when talking about his favorite subjects.

“No, I’m just really turned on right now.”

Miguel’s eyebrows raise. He peers up to you and your eyes shifted quickly back to a book.

“Robot parts turn you on?”

“Well, if you say it like that, it sounds insane.”

“If that little piece of red rubber and plastic really helps you, then I guess I can work with it.”

“Oh my god, Miguel,” your hands cover your face. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it? Tell me.”

Your voice becomes muffled as he leans closer and you shake your head.

“Why not? I wanna know.”

You spread your fingers and look at him under you. He looks cozy, his shower leaving fluffy and flushed. He’s blinking up at you expectantly, pretty smile planted on his lips. Your heart is pounding.

“It’s…”

“It’s?”

“It’s when you…”

He held your arm and pulled it down. If he touched your wrist, he would feel your heartbeat.

“When I what?” he slid your hand on his neck, thumb rubbing just under the sleeve of your turtleneck.

“I like it when you say smart things. When you go off into your own little world about science and math and technology. It’s hot.”

You expect him to look at you crazy, and to be fair, he does look a little lost at first. His eyebrows twitch and he blinks once or twice. Then, you can the wheels in his head turning and the smile he carried before turns into a smirk.

“Don’t make that face. I should have never told you.”

“No, baby. I’m just shocked. That’s just not something I thought people could be into. Definitely not something that got me praise in middle school. Or high school.”

“Well, I like it. You’re passionate and passion is an amazing thing to have. It shows you care. You’re also super intelligent. A lot of girls missed out. I’m glad that I’m first.”

“You’re not just saying that? It’s not just my body? My height?”

A snicker leaves your body before you can even think to answer.

“Is that what you think about, Miggy?”

“A lot of girls didn’t really notice me until I hit the gym. So I wondered if that was what made you notice me.”

Silence filled the room and Miguel watched your face sour.

“I’ll be honest, if you hadn’t made the first move, we would never be sitting this close together.”

“What? Why?”

“Because! You’re this,” your shoulders drop and you purse your lips, thinking about your words, “this muscular, tall guy. I thought you were a jock before you first spoke to me. A gym bro.”

“I am a gym bro.”

“True, but I meant the personality stereotype, not a guy that frequents the gym. What I’m saying is, I didn’t entertain the thought of making a move on you because I didn’t think you would ever like me. However, you were kind and consistent. That’s what drew me closer to you. The body and the height are plusses, though.”

“Oh.”

“You stood up for me a bunch. You made efforts to see me. And even after your mistakes, which are two for two by the way-”

“Hey,” Miguel pouts, shaking his head as if it would make his fumbles disappear.

“-you have reassured me more and more. You listen to me, you remember the smallest things, you make me laugh. I just really adore you.”

He grins, kissing the palm of your hand before getting back up, “Good. Because you’re never getting rid of me now.”

“Wouldn’t want to.”

GymRat!Miguel who is definitely stalling when he has you read off his list of things to bring home for the fifth time.

“Laundry?”

“Got it.”

“Games?”

“Yup.”

“Shoes?”

“Put them in my gym bag.”

“I think you’re ready then!”

“Could you go over it one more time?”

“Miguel, if nothing has grown legs and walked, it’s still packed up.”

He sighs, staring at his three bags by the door: a backpack, a gym bag, and a laundry bag. It really was time to go home.

Walking to you sitting on the edge of his bed, he drapes his body over yours.

“I’m going to miss you,” he mumbles into your shoulder.

“Me too,” your hand reaches under his jacket to rub his back. The rhythm of your nails matches his dramatic huffs, up and down the slope of his spine. “Wish we could have done some cute stuff. Like make gingerbread houses or-“

“Ice skate! Ski!”

“If that would make you happy, yeah.”

He makes an irritated sound and wraps around you tighter. He had to do something.

“What if we go book a hotel somewhere? Let’s have a little getaway from home before going home.”

“I have to help my parents prep to host holiday parties. And with what money, Miguel?”

He stands up straight and gives you a deadpan look, “You can’t be asking me that. You know I’ve got it covered.”

“I’m not letting you blow an absurd amount of money on something last minute.”

“I would do it for you. I would do it to be with you.”

“And that’s sweet,” you rubbed a thumb over his cheek, “but we don’t need to spend that much money to have fun.”

“You’re right, baby. Last night was lots of fun.”

“And just like that, you’re done.”

He laughs as you push him away from you, hands quick to pick you up from the bed. Your plea to let you go dissolved into giggles as he kissed all over your face.

“That was a cute moment and you ruined it!”

“Nooo, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But I don’t take it back.”

Rolling your eyes, you barely fight his love attack. The two of you sound like you’re frolicking around in a meadow and not like he’s swinging you around in his dorm room.

A ringtone goes off, interrupting you both. You reach in your pocket and smile.

“Hey, Mom!”

GymRat!Miguel who listened to you talk with your mom while he kept your feet off of the ground.

Your fingers danced from his hair to his lips to his shoulders as you hummed after your mom’s words.

“I thought she was supposed to make a charcuterie board?” you ask her as you pull the corner of Miguel’s mouth up and down with your thumb.

He hears her say something about someone not knowing how to even spell charcuterie and starts to laugh. You cover his mouth with a grin and chastise your mom.

“Don’t say that, Mama. I’m sure it’ll turn out fine!”

Miguel kisses your fingers one by one while your mom rattles off in your ear.

She goes from topic to topic, from who was irking her at work to how your finals went to what presents she was waiting on. You kept up with a light tone and a soft gaze on his features.

By the time Miguel tuned his ears back into the conversation, he was sitting in a bean bag chair with your nails scratching at his nape.

“I’ll be home today. Well, tonight.”

Your mother’s voice buzzed through the speakers and your eyes darted Miguel’s face to his neck.

“Nothing! I’m just,” a pause joins in on the pattern you tap across his chest. Your lips curl out and your voice gets smaller, “hanging out with Miguel. We’re catching up.”

Like the impact of glass shattering, the bite in your mother’s voice had you reeling back.

She was talking, no, yelling so fast, he almost didn’t catch anything.

I thought you broke up with him?

Didn’t he cheat on you? Why are you in his face?

Do I need to come up there and shake some sense into you? Huh?

Answer me!

“Mom, please! Just calm down- no, I’m not telling you to shut up, just listen to me!”

Miguel was mortified.

You got up from his embrace and paced the floor with an arm hugging your middle. The fussing on the other end of the line was nonstop.

“No, I’m not putting him on the phone right now.”

His heart rammed as he shot up, “I-I can talk to her!”

Pausing and pushing your phone to your chest, you give him a stern “No!” before going back to your mom.

“Mom, we talked about everything and we’re fine now, I promise.”

You look at him and your mother’s voice muffles through the room again. He looks like he could cry and you’re trying to silently placate him.

“I’ll tell you everything when I get home, ok? You don’t have to worry.” Your eyes get big before you turn completely around and walk to the bathroom, chanting no over and over. There’s no telling what your mom thinks of him now.

He picks at his hands as he waits, the pit of his stomach in knots.

When you come out, you don’t even give him the chance to speculate before you spring on, “Want to go to Ikea and roleplay a couple moving into their new place?”

“I would love that but what about your mom?”

“Would you rather stew on what she thinks or would you rather hold my hand and compare mudroom seating?”

It was going to eat at him either way, but you were practically begging him to move on.

“I think we should talk about it, but,” he holds his hand out, “let’s discuss the pros and cons of wainscoting on the way.”

GymRat!Miguel who is already enjoying the linoleum floors and smell of hardwood before the second set of automatic doors even have time to close.

A fair amount of families were already walking by with carts, and pairs and groups alike were already pointing to different displays.

You stood at his side, arms wrapped around his bicep, knit cardigan nearly touching the floor. Every piece you had on was fuzzy and warm against his side. The two of you were a vision of college comfort with your flared pants and his matching joggers.

“Should I grab a bag, dear?” Miguel asks watching a little boy drag a yellow bag to his mother.

Smiling into his sleeve, you shake your head, “Maybe we should just look around to start? Check things out first.”

His eyes sparkle at you as you both turn to the right, heading towards the maze of furniture pieces. He clears his throat and you snort.

“Honey.”

His chest puffs up, smile derpy and big. He was so easy to please sometimes.

GymRat!Miguel who bent under the borders of a dimmed display as you ran to sit on a black, aspen loveseat.

“What do you think, Miguel?” your sweater hung off one shoulder as your hands graced the top of the couch. The arch in your back swerved right down to your leg poised over the other. “Do I look like a 90s pop diva waiting to hear producers fall over themselves to play me another track?”

Your head falls back, covered neck opened to the glow of the lava lamp on the studio desk next to you. He could see a peak of what he left behind last night.

He sits in the armless desk chair, smirking as you spare him some attention.

“Listening to all of these amateurs when you know your voice sounds better over me, whispering my name, wearing my chain.”

Your leg twitches and he sees your eyes flit through several different emotions. With the way you hop off of the seat, lust was one of them.

“Ok, MC Miggy Mig, let’s go to the next thing!”

He grabs your arm and pulls you back, a squeal high in your throat in the process, “Why’re you running, hm?”

“Because this is an open, public, area and you’re playing this role a little too well.”

“I think I’ll need to seriously consider this setup,” he runs his right hand over the digital mixer while his left hand sits firmly behind your thigh.

“You don’t even make music. Nor do you record anything.”

“Us together sounds like music to me.”

Bringing him to a furniture store with his pent-up feelings was probably worse than having one more round in his room.

You stew on this as you turn to go to the next display room, attempting to more find interest in the leather sconce lighting than the thought of you and your boyfriend in a booth after pressing play.

GymRat!Miguel who genuinely did take notes over what you liked and didn’t like.

You were an artist, so there were a lot of funky pieces here and there. Like an odd-shaped vase or a cabinet with more aesthetics than storage. A light fixture with more parts that it probably needed and mirrors with dramatics around the sides.

He loved it though. It was all so different from what he would ever choose, but the way you described things had him envisioning how you would be designing a space for the two of you.

It had him thinking of the future.

GymRat!Miguel who took on the kitchen displays like a Broadway actor. The hallways opened up more and his hand swung with yours as he stepped into the first room.

It was bright, a window bringing in fake sun. Dark salmon walls huddled up with light wood cabinets and milky white counters.

“Honey?” his voice was dripping with it, tone smooth and silk as he opened a retro fridge. “Did you remember to make your famous ambrosia?”

Grabbing a bowl with fake fruit from the fridge, you jump right into character, “Why darling, of course, I did! It’s your big day, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“And that pretty dog to match?”

He takes you bowl and places it on the counter, eyes serious as he grabs your face in his hands, “That pretty dog and so much more. I’m gonna buy the whole town.”

You burst out into laughter before you can even think of a response, his facade dropping watching you giggle.

“This is a serious affair and you’re laughing.”

“Sorry.”

GymRat!Miguel whose act switched up in a smaller, compact kitchen. The wood was almost black, and a pull-out drying rack was next to the stark white counter.

“Baby, you’re late.”

Your eyebrow goes up, “Says who?”

He looks back, chuckling in disbelief, “Says the man that puts his life on the line for you.”

“And I didn’t ask you to. Yet, here you are. In my kitchen.”

Chuckling darkly, Miguel grabs one of the bottles and takes a swig. His throat bobs like there’s actually something in the bottle.

“That’s cute, real cute.”

You bit your lip as he leaned over you. He had a scowl on his lips and a dark shadow over his eyes that you rarely saw.

“You think I’m just going to let you walk out there unprotected? I’ve got eyes everywhere.” His thumb pulls your lip out and he bends your head up. “No one hurts you and I won’t hurt them. You’re mine, baby girl, and I protect what’s mine.”

An old married couple passed by, arguing over which cabinet was better. You feel like you’ve run a marathon.

“That was hot,” you whisper.

Miguel breaks, sliding his arms under yours.

“I was thinking you were a little too into that.”

“You should call me baby girl more often. It has a kick to it.”

He twists his nose cutely, your derpy, buff baby of a boyfriend coming back, “I like it when I call you mine’s better.”

“Your girl?”

“My girl.”

GymRat!Miguel who acts out nothing in the bedroom section of the showroom.

“This is nice,” he hooked his foot under that of the bed frame. “Sturdy.”

“It looks like a dorm bed,” you comment.

He places his hands on his hips and thinks.

“You’re right. Bad idea.”

Dragging him to another bed, you ask him how he feels about it. It’s huge, king-sized. There’s a quilt spread over it the bottom of it, with red pillows next to white ones on the top.

You bend over it, feet kicking in the air as you make “snow” angels with your hands.

Miguel pushes your legs down and drags you to the edge. He grunts as he barricades your body, knees next to your hips. He presses a hand to the small of your back, getting in close behind your bottom.

He moves slowly, hips grinding up against you.

“Miguel!” you partially turn, staring at him incredulously. “Are you crazy?”

“It’s too low. Not good for my back,” he responds.

A group of girls eye you both from the closet section of the showroom floor. One is giggling, one is mortified, and the other looks like an heirloom tomato. Miguel remains oblivious.

“We need something higher.”

“And I need to get you out of the bed section.”

Miguel looked at the remaining sets, “But I still have more to test?”

His voice lacks the giddy flow from earlier, so you know there’s no stopping him.

“Fine, just don’t pin me to the display beds.”

Pouting, he nodded and continued on.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks seeing you coo over everything in the kids’ furniture section might be the icing on the cake.

“How adorable is that? And it’s so soft!”

It was the fifth plushie you picked up in under the span of two minutes.

“Want me to buy it for you?”

“No,” you place it back in the metal bin, but he knew you didn’t want to. “I don’t need it.”

“I’m already buying something for your mom for the Christmas party. You can go ahead.”

If you had special effects, he’s sure exclamation points and starts would appear around you the way you perk up.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Can I get the panda and the shark?”

“Whatever you want, bébe. You can have it.”

You walk out of the section with three plushies in a bag and happier than ever.

GymRat!Miguel who sits in the restaurant and feeds you bites of his plate while takes bites of yours.

“Like it?” you ask, holding a hand over your mouth as you chew.

“It’s ok. A little bland. I think I’ll like the cake better.”

“Agreed.”

The two of you made idle chatter over Swedish meatballs and salmon filets. When it’s time to drink, the two of you cross arms and down lingonberries.

It’s a sweet end to the outing.

GymRat!Miguel who is downing ice cream when you pop a question.

“How do you feel about coming over for the holidays?”

Miguel’s windpipe lodges closed and his fist is knocking up against his chest. You freak out and jump up to pat his back.

“Lift your hands, oh my god!”

He waves your arms away, wanting to laugh at you pushing your sleeves up.

“I’m good, I’m good! Just give me a second.”

You sat back down, expression concerned, “Ok, so maybe coming over is a bad idea?”

“Absolutely not! It’s a great idea. I would love to come.” He relaxed his shoulders, wiping his mouth. “If your family will have me.”

“I was just thinking.”

“Uh huh?”

“It’s been over a year since we’ve been together.”

“Correct. A year and three months since I asked you out, but who’s counting?”

“You know, you never explicitly asked me to be your girlfriend, right? So, these could all be imaginary numbers to me right now, but moving on.”

“No, moving back, what? I did ask you to be my girlfriend. We call each other boyfriend and girlfriend. We are together as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“We are together but you never asked, we just naturally transitioned into that. That’s not my point, though. I was just teasing.”

Miguel bit his lip, stirring the thought for later, “You were thinking?”

“Right! It’s been this long and you’ve only met my mom,” who wasn’t too fond of him at the moment, “whereas I’ve met your close family. So, how about using this upcoming break to meet some more members of my family?”

He nodded his head, but a loud, blank noise took over his ears.

Meeting your family was a big deal, right? It meant that he was solidified and proven to be worthy of being with you. Of course, you met a small part of his family, but if he had it his way, it would have been more casual and less of an attack on all fronts. Spending that much time with your family meant so much…too much.

“Miguel? Did you hear me?” your hand reaches across the table and caresses his.

“Um.”

“All I said was that I’ll have to check with my own parents first, so don’t panic.”

It was too late not to panic.

“Right, not panicking. I’m just thinking about how many things I should prepare.” His Range Rover was about to rival Santa’s sleigh. All he needed to do was add those antlers and red nose that Gabriel bought him one year.

“You don’t have to do much, baby, it’s just my parents. And a few cousins, my grandma, grandpa, aunts and uncles, my dog. It’ll be chill.”

If it’s one thing his parents taught him, it was always to do too much. His heart was already in his throat about appealing to your mother once more. Who knows what your family already thinks about him?

“Once they see that charm that I fell in love with, they’ll love you too, ok?” you moved your hand to his cheek, which he melted in like a baby.

“Ok. I trust you.”

Miguel kisses your palm and you smile warmly back at him.

“And speaking of trust, my mom didn’t say anything worse than the spiel she gave me back on your birthday.”

“Top ten worst birthdays, I think.”

You nod, “I wholeheartedly agree, but, she thought the worst earlier today.”

“Like?”

“Like I was pregnant.”

His windpipe gives out again and this time you’re quicker to whack his back. The images of you in the kids’ furniture section do not help his sanity at all.

GymRat!Miguel who leans on the open window of your car.

“I’ll call you before I get on the highway, okay?”

You nod, leaning against the door while you stare at him.

“And don’t speed. Watch out for crazy drivers.”

“I will, Mig.”

He stays a little while longer, setting every one of your features to memory. You pucker your lips, silently begging for him to kiss you. He obliges, whispering love against your lips.

“Be safe,” he mumbles, taking your top lip between his.

“You too.”

Leaning back, he puts his hands in his pockets as he watches you leave.

He hopes to see you for the holidays.

dividers by: strangergraphics + adornedwithlight 🩵

a/n: I actually started writing this chapter two days before Christmas, but my writer's block hit me incredibly hard. I can say that I'm happy with the result now! And I'm happy to get back to the swing of things! In the next chapter, Miguel will be meeting Reader's family! Very excited about that. Hopefully, I can get the story caught back up with the current month soon! 🩵

The taglist is full, so if you would like to be informed of future updates, check my blog occasionally (💀) or subscribe to the story on AO3!

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[puckinghischier]

Sunburnt

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn

notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺

[3.3k]

(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)

You’ve waited all year for this. You have absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.

Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.

You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.

You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.

Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.

Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.

Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.

Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.

This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.

You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.

You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.

“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”

Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.

“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”

Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.

“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.

“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.

You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.

Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.

“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.

“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.

“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”

Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.

“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”

You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.

“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.

“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.

Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.

You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.

“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.

Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.

He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.

“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.

Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.

You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.

The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.

You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.

“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.

You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.

You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.

“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.

You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.

“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.

“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.

“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.

Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.

The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.

At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.

“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.

“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.

“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.

You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wonder what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.

You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.

You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.

“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.

“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.

You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.

When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.

You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.

You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.

You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.

Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.

“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.

“Oh Lovey…”

You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.

“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.

Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.

Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.

You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.

Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.

“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.

He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.

You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.

“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.

“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.

He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.

“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.

You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.

After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.

“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.

“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.

Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.

He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.

“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.

“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.

“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.

He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“Jack, I’m still hungry.”

“Do you want me to go grab something?”

“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.

Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.

Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.

He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.

“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.

“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.

You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.

“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.

“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.

“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.

“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.

You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.

“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.

He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.

Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.

He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.

“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.

“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.

He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.

You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.

“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.

“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”

“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.

“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.

“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.

“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.

Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.

Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.

[kawoala]

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 001 ; only in the movies.

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২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (1,221)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (runa is very talkative, very minimal profanity, first mention of street racing, shy! reader, karasuno! reader, runa dressing reader in … provocative clothing so they look like they fit in, anxious! reader, runa + suna are cousins again — who’s surprised?? [hint: no one !!], social anxiety)

“Hi, I’m Runa! It’s really nice to meet you. I thought you weren’t going to show up at first, but now you’re here! You seem like a nice girl so far— my last roommate was a total bitch. Sorry, I tend to talk a lot about myself. Where are you from?”

You blink at the brunette a couple times. You’ve barely even crossed the threshold of the dorm, and she’s already bombarded you with seemingly hundreds of questions. Your mind catches up with you and you shake your head to clear the fog away. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” you say quietly, giving her a shy smile. “Um, my name is Y/n and I’m from Miyagi Prefecture. What, uh, what about you?”

“No way!” She exclaims, eyes lighting up. “I’m from Miyagi Prefecture. What school did you go to? Shiratorizawa? That school is really good at sports. Or, Karasuno, maybe? They’re also pretty good. I went to Johzenji— they’re okay at sports, but I never really paid attention to anything but volleyball. I was the manager for the boys’ club.”

“Um, yeah, I went to Karasuno. I wasn’t interested in any sports though, my focus was more on the arts. Choir, photography— stuff like that.”

She nods and hums. “Totally understandable. I mean, who wants to sit in a crowded gym full of sweaty people?” She shudders in mock disgust and you snicker quietly. “I sure didn’t. That’s why I was down on the court making sure nobody died from dehydration or anything.”

You laugh, but don’t say anything more. Her face lights up once more, like she’s just realized something, and she claps her hands together. “Oh my god! I didn’t even let you in the dorm yet. Please, come in, set your stuff down.” She steps out of the way and extends her arm, giggling.

You walk past her, glancing around the room. It’s not huge, by any means, but it’s still pretty nice. There’s two beds, two desks, and a loveseat in the corner that was probably a pain to get in the dorm.

You set your things down on your bare bed— your bag, a succulent plant your mother gave you right before you left, and a takeout bag that only has fries left in it. You were planning on giving them to Runa as a housewarming gift, but they’re probably cold now, so you decide not you.

“Okay, so,” Runa starts, making you turn to look at her. “A couple things to know; I talk a lot, which you probably already picked up on.” She laughs. It’s a nice sound. “I’ll keep my side of the room clean if you do. You seem like a clean person, though, so I doubt that will be a problem. I won’t bring anybody in here without talking to you first and I hope you’ll do the same.” She pauses and purses her lips as if in thought. “I think that’s it. If you have any, like, rules or anything let me know!”

You nod slowly, taking in her words. “Sounds great,” you say, smiling. “I don’t really know anyone here yet, so you don’t have to worry about me bringing people here. And I am a pretty clean person, so that’s not a problem either. Um, I probably won’t talk too much until I get to know you better.” You swallow. “Sorry if that’s mean.”

“No, no. I totally get that. I used to be that way, too, but then I was like, ’I don't really care anymore,’ so.” She shrugs. She opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off by a knock at the door. Both of your heads turn just as a piece of what looks like paper slips under the door.

You glance at each other, sharing a confused look, but then she walks over and picks it up. You watch her eyes go from narrowed, to familiarity. “Um, what is it?” You ask.

She flips it over to see if there’s anything on the back, then looks up at you and hesitates. “Uh.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and holds it out to you. “It’s an invitation to a race tonight.”

“A race?” You repeat in a mumble, eyes scanning over the words quickly. ‘T-20. be there at 10 or don’t come at all pussies.’ Your eyes widen a bit and you have to read it again to make sure you’re not hallucinating.

“A street race,” she explains. “They’re, um, like, super rare to get an invitation to. My cousin is racing tonight, so that’s probably why I got one.” You look up to see her brows furrowed. She clocks your gaze and smiles politely. “Do you wanna go with me? It’s not very fun being the only girl there who’s not interested in going home with one of the racers.”

A street race? Like, a real life street race? Those are real? You thought they only existed in movies. Aren’t they illegal?

Hundreds of thoughts flood through your brain and you can feel the palms of your hands start to sweat. You swallow hard. “A street race.” A statement, not a question. “Aren’t those, um…”

“Illegal?” She laughs, but nods. “That’s why they’re invitation-only. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I understand. They’re not everyone's thing.”

You chew on your bottom lip, eyes falling back to the piece of paper in your hands. You applied to this college purely because you heard Tokyo was not boring. What kind of college girl would you be if you declined this invitation. With a deep breath, you nod. “No, I’ll go. Ten o’clock.” You glance at the clock. “Four hours to find an outfit that will make it look like I belong at an illegal street race. No problem.”

She laughs again, smiling so wide her eyes crinkle. “You’re funny, Y/n,” she says. “I think we’re going to be good friends.”

You smile back at her and, once again, she claps her hands together. “I’ll help you find an outfit, don’t worry.” She walks to her closet, then looks back at you. “How comfortable are you with fishnets?”

“Um.”

The two of you leave the dorms at approximately 9:30, riding in Runa’s shitty Toyota Corolla. You have to suppress a laugh when you see it because when she had told you her cousin was racing tonight, you’d expected her to have a nice car like you assume her cousin does.

You were horribly wrong.

When you pull up to the underpass, it’s packed. Actually, maybe packed is an understatement because there are probably over 500 hundred people present. Almost instantly, you start to sweat. Even in the short-shorts and deliberately ripped up t-shirt that Runa dressed you in. Saying you’re out of your element is also probably an understatement.

You step out of the car and a mixture of gasoline and exhaust fumes hits your nose. You try your best not to scrunch your face up, but it happens anyway.

“You get used to the smell!” Runa shouts over the loud music and constant revving of engines. Somewhere to the left of you, someone screams at the top of their lungs. You glance at Runa and she snickers, walking closer to you. “And the noise.”

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@sahrii , @cherrysurf , @heartmaddie , @jpegarchives , @massacremars

@vertejay , @tiramizuloz , @gumims , @mybelovedvi , @chaotic-neutral-ig

@usbrous , @iheartamora , @iluv-ace , @xavlyzn , @velvetreds

[sl8yter]

3005 - Mühl

Don’t drink when you have an inexplicable yearning for your bestfriend.

Nika Muhl x Fem Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood underneath the basket in the huskies gym. Lost in a daze as a familiar Croation girl was practicing her form. Her concentration left a mark in between her eyebrows and her lips slightly pursed. You had been thinking about how tough two had first met. Starting off as roommates who would speak maybe every other day to doing everything together. When you first started talking to Nika as a friend instead of a roomie, you had acknowledged the girls very obvious beauty. The way her eyes shined when the sun hit them, how whenever she was frustrated her accent would be more pronounced in every syllable, and how she was incredible person and an even better athlete.

Your fall for her was quick and without warning as you had begun to notice the way your body would involuntarily heat up with the smallest contact. Not to mention whenever she was just a little closer to you your heart would pick up and you could hear the blood flowing within you. Without your noticing Nika had stopped when she had realized your out of touch look.

“Hey are you okay?” Concern laced throughout her words.

“Yea sorry I zoned out.” Your response not convincing her as she started her walk towards you giving you a small smile. As she walked closer to the rim, she took out her ponytail and began to talk

“Are you sure? we can go, I was practically done anyways.”

“Sorry, I’m just not feeling a hundred percent today” Not lying but not being completely honest, the feeling of boredom from just catching Nikas rebounds was starting to get to you. You also just wanted an excuse to retreat to your dorm as it was starting to get late and you had an essay due later in the week.

“It’s okay, plus I know you have that paper due soon. Can we go out after you’re done. I kinda wanna get drunk tonight.” She smiles at you with a large grin at her last few words. Her eyes comparable to a puppies.

“I dont know Niks, I kinda just wanna stay in tonight.” Your response causing her to lock you into a tight hug, she moves you side to side as she began to yell please a million times over. Her grasp unrelenting until another girl clad in a UConn practice jersey walked over.

“Twin can you like stop making out with (yn) in the gym, thanks.” Paige spoke as she peeled Nika off of your body. Your face a slight hue of pink due to the hug and Paiges statement.

“See, look at her, poor girl.” She continues to point out the spread across your cheeks. All Paige ever did was tease you about Nika. She was a very observant girl, a skill acquired from years of basketball, so she was quick to deduce that you had a major crush on Nika. Faster than you were able to in fact.

She had offered to put in good word for you and try to “gas you up” to her. But you had declined in fear of rejection. All her past relationships were with men so why would that change now was your mindset.

“Ughh, she doesnt want to go out tonight, and I wanted her-”

“Youre going out tonight. Were actually all going out tonight. I know you have major FOMO too so boom I win.” Paige quickly cuts Nika off.

“Thats actually so unfair. What time?” You ask rolling your eyes, as you can feel a small smile move its way onto your face.

“9, Nikas driving since she offered, be at my dorm by 8:30.” Paige quickly finishes as her coach, Geno, walked into the gym area. Saying her quick goodbyes as she went to follow him.

“See this is why Paige is my twin, cause she always manages to convince you to go out with me.” Nika says smiling at you as she dragged you both out of the gym.

“Thats unfair Niks you know I cant say no to group events.”

“Well thats your fault you should already know to never say no to me.”

“How toxic of you. I dont know how I manage being roommates with such an evil girl.” You joke as she unlocks her car.

“Please, you love this evil girl. I see the way you look at me.”

You scoff at her reply, internally however, your heart racing in your chest. The last few words were dancing on the line of serious and playful banter.

A sudden laugh from her eases your heart however as you look out the window searching the tree line for seemingly nothing. Missing the look she gives you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“WHO WANTS SHOTS?” A drunked Paige shouts right next to your ear as she looks over your shoulder to see a good portion of her teammates. You recoil from the loud shouting, to be honest you don’t even remember arriving.

You look around the bar in search of Nika who had been missing for the better part of the meet. You remember her saying she was going to go the bathroom. In good will you started to make your way towards the bathroom hoping she wasn’t in there dying from what felt like a couple of hundred shots Paige had made the both of you down earlier.

“Yo (yn) wait” The same blonde stops you, gripping your shoulder and harshly turning you around. The alcohol seemed to make her forget her own strength as she quickly patted the area she grasped.

“Drink this, trust me.” She said as she handing you a long shot filled with a clear alcohol.

“What is it?” You pondered familiar with the looks of it, but with Paige you wouldn’t chance it knowing how much she wanted you to confront Nika about your feelings.

“Just trust me, okay? You’ll be more open with her I promise. And if it goes south, then you can take another and you wont even remember how embarrassed you are.” She answered your question with full confidence

Taking turns looking at Paige and the shot, not knowing if it was the alcohol that you had downed earlier finally kicking in or Paiges convincing smile, you had downed the shot quickly recoiling when it had burned.

“Fuck Paige, what is this?” You ask her as your face involuntarily scrunches

“Everybody’s favorite, Everclear” she laughs as she began to push you in the direction of the bathroom. When you had finally reached the door, she had pushed you in, giving you a small smile and thumbs up before locking the door from the inside and quickly retreating. From the outside Paige had found an out of service sign and promptly put it infront of the door before heading back to her teammates table, all while giggling to herself about playing cupid.

From inside the somehow empty bathroom you heard slight hiccups and a sniffle.

“Nika? Is that you?” You ask even though you knew it couldn’t be anyone else.

A few shuffles later from the other side of the large stall, the door opens and reveals a disheveled Nika, who very obviously had too much to drink.

“Take me to yours please” She stumbled out of the stall, collapsing into your arms as she put her full weight on to you. Her body was on fire, you could feel the warmth radiating from off her, it almost felt good if she wasn’t slick with sweat. Her head rested upon your shoulder as you took her back into the big stall, you walking forward as she walked backwards to which she rose her head and looked at you confused.

“I cant right now, Paige made me drink another shot and I can feel it in my legs.” You explained, you would of drove both of you home by now if you didn’t feel a fuzziness erupting from your lower half.

Nika released a big sigh before leaning herself against the wall and sliding down to sit with her head laid back against the wall and her legs fully extended.

“Sit with me” She had demanded without even looking up

“Yea no, that floors dirty.” The alcohol had you speaking without fixing your tone as you came off a little harsh.

“I don’t care I want you to sit with me.” Nika picked her head up as it was heavy to look up at you. The way the light had hit her eyes made them shine in a way that softened you. Without a fuss, you had begun to kneel down to sit next to her without even realizing. Her smile as your back rested against the wall made the grimy floor somewhat bearable.

“You make me feel so full” Nika blurbed out. Her cheeks dusted with a sheen of pink that complimented her tan.

“Mhm, remind me not to let you drink next time we go out.” You replied jokingly, if she had said that comment earlier when you were sober you might’ve exploded on the spot. Luckily the drink had calmed your demeanor and even made you a little braver.

“Actually, you know, like when im with other people. Its different. Empty, you know. Even with people im interested in, they never make me feel the way you do.” The way she stumbled over her words tugged strings in your heart.

“Who like your ex? Obviously Niks, he was kind of an ass”

She chuckles at the thought of her past lover and your obvious distaste for him. Sure he wasn’t that horrible but he only did the bare minimum. And for some reason Nika could never explain unless she was under the influence, whenever he or anybody, would fuck up her first thought was to compare them to you.

“Yea, but everything’s different when it comes to you” She said in a hushed voice, her eyes never moving off of yours. Instinct from basketball or not you relished in her undivided attention. It made you dizzy.

“In what way?” You asked, discreetly shuffling yourself a little closer to her body.

“Fuck everybody but you.” Her response made you smile. Here you were sitting with a drunken Nika who was trying so hard to explain herself to you.

“Fuck em?” You laughed out, her sudden brazen attitude towards the world surprised you. For somebody so level headed like her, she seemed like a teenager trying to find her way.

“Fuck em” She clarified while grabbing your hand. Given, she was usually touchy with you. But it felt different this time. The warmth of her hand had lit a possibility. Taking your chance, you interlocked your fingers with hers, taking your eyes off of her for a moment to fully take in the occasion. The way her hands were mostly soft except for some calluses entranced you. You used your other hand to trace her own. Slowly you felt her slump her head on to your shoulder. Her scent was overwhelming, invading your brain until all you could think of was her and nothing else. Nika was all that mattered.

She looked at you through her eyelashes prompting you to move your head ever so slightly to lock eyes with her.

Maybe it was the alcohol or the way you could smell her perfume but the way she was looking at you in this moment was unmistakable. It was the same look Paige would use to describe you looking at her. But she had slowly sat up, she was close enough that you could feel every little exhale against your face. It was a strange feeling, it felt so weird yet so right. Maybe it was the fear of your friendship breaking that made you turn to look straight ahead. But that feeling was quickly shut down when Nika had softly grabbed the side of your face, with her non dominant hand, making you look at her. Her touch felt like fire against your skin.

“Youre so pretty” Her sudden compliment made you feel even warmer. All her actions made you float. Youre head felt dizzy as you involuntarily looked at her soft plump lips as she spoke once again. Youre throat was dry, opening your mouth to try and talk but she quickly covered your mouth before you could speak.

“I wanna be by your side, but only of you’ll have me” Her confession makes you freeze in your spot, making you quickly sober up. You had started to smell the lingering alcohol that tinged her breath. As much as you would like to accept her confession, she was drunk. You doubted she would remember what she said in the heat of the moment. As your stuck in your thoughts, you feel your head moving down and see her features getting closer.

You stick your hand in between the two of you. Making Nika place her lips against the inside of your hand.

“Youre drunk Niks, let’s talk about this in the morning.” You managed to speak, regretting your actions however as Nika quickly stood up and with glossy eyes she managed to say in a broken voice

“This is so embarrassing, can we just forget I said anything. I don’t wanna lose you as a friend” She looked at you as you followed her up, you grabbed her hands, gently rubbing her knuckles as you assured her

“No, Nika I promise you I want you too. I just cant while you’re drunk. Youre so beautiful and amazing, trust me I want to kiss you so bad, I just cant while you’re drunk. Pretty bad huh, I got an amazing woman trying to kiss me and I refuse” You quickly joke hoping to put her at ease.

She stood there for a second before a small smile appeared with an even smaller tear cascading down her round flushed cheeks.

“Super bad” She replied as she put her arms against your shoulders, leaning her forehead against yours. Swiftly, you pressed a chaste kiss against her cheek before pulling her impossibly closer and hiding your face in her brown hair.

She laughed at your child like behavior but she couldn’t complain since she had longed for a tight hug filled with compassion from you. She didn’t even know she needed it until now. She felt a wave of tiredness wash over her as she whispered in your ear.

“Take me home please. Stay with me tonight”

“Of course”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had blinked and suddenly had woken up with a familiar weight on top of you. Nika was acting like koala on your side as one of her legs lay across your belly and her arm across your front assuring her grip on you. Guessing from the fact that you both laid on the still made bed, you had both crashed as soon as you made it to Nika’s dorm.

With careful wiggling, you had managed to shimmy Nikas arm off of you as you decided to get up and try to surprise her with a good start to her day, a full breakfast. When you tried to lift her leg off of your stomach, she quickly parried by instead straddling you giving you a quick drowsy smile before leaning down to hide her face in the crook of your neck.

“Goodmorning” Her muffled voice vibrated against the skin of your neck, inadvertently making you smile.

“Goodmorning” You said while you wrapped your arms around her back, gently tracing shapes along it.

“So?” She asked

“So what”

“So wheres my kiss” She said trying to be brave but failing as you could feel her lips dance their way up your nape and to your jaw. Not even kissing, just grazing, which somehow made it feel even better.

She stopped right before she touched the corner of your lips to give a loving yet cautious look to ask for permission.

“I didn’t even get a chance to brush my teeth and you wanna kiss me. Just tell me how bad you want me Niks”

A soft giggle erupted from her as she smiled widely and slid off of your body and off of the bed. Her warmth quickly leaving you wanting for more.

“Youre right, I’ll show you after you’re done.” She said as she walked away, her body language very obviously taunting you as she left you in the empty bed.

Sitting up, you chased after her to find her with a toothbrush in her mouth and waving a new toothbrush package in the air before throwing it at you.

“Eager are we?” You tease her, she rolls her eyes at your comment before rinsing out her mouth and standing behind you as you applied toothpaste to your own toothbrush.

“Im gonna make coffee. I wanna talk more about last night” She told you before kissing your cheek and walking off.

You watched her leave in the mirror, admiring her back profile before finishing up your small task. As you walked into the open kitchen the smell of coffee beans hit your nose and one hell of a view hit your eyes. Nika was pouring 2 cups of coffee, one for you and one for her. It was something that you had seen before as you and the Croatian have had countless sleepovers but never in this context. It was something that you could definitely get use to seeing more often.

Walking up to the counter, you grabbed both mugs before heading into the living area and setting them on the coffee table in front of her couch. You turned on the TV and put on the news to a lowered volume setting for some background noise. For some odd reason you were nervous. Your heart was beating a little faster than usual. Even though you already knew what she was gonna say, she liked you. Right?

“Listen about last night.” Nika had started off as she walked around the small table to sit adjacent to you. Your legs touching as she slid closer.

“I like you, like really like you.” Her pronounced really made her accent come out stronger than usual. Her face was serious and her hands were clasped as she looked down at her mug filled with a light brown coffee. She was just as nervous as you were which put you at ease.

“I really like you too Niks. I wanna be with you too. Can I ask you something?” Her demeanor was more relaxed now as you were completely honest with her. A smile plastered across her face at the reciprocated feelings.

“Anything” She had answered

“When did you start liking me?” You had wanted to know since last night. The question was tugging at you. You had wanted to know how much time you had wasted being friends when you could have been in each others arms.

“I dont know the exact time I really realized. But I knew when I just couldnt stop thinking of you, day or night. Even in my dreams you would be there. I would compare everybody to you. You were my standard. Eventually I just realized I wanted to be with you.” She says before taking a sip of her hot drink. Her earnest tone made you go crazy. She was confessing her love for you, it wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t a delusion, it was real life and it felt so good.

“Mhm” was all you could reply with. You were afraid that if you did speak an actual word you would end up being too loud out of pure happiness.

“What about you when did you start liking me.” She had asked back. You looked down at the table for your own cup, grabbing it and watching the way the liquid would sway with every little movement.

“One day, a while back near the start of spring, I forget what I was doing but I felt sad. I felt like it should have been the two of us there. I forgot whatever I was doing, but I never forgot the feeling of missing you. I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. Then when I got back to my dorm, you were there waiting for me, already watching a movie and finishing off the last of my snacks. If it were anybody else I probably would of gotten mad, but then you got up and ran to hug me and asked where I had been and at that moment I felt a warmth. Like the kind that you get when you hug somebody you care for but it was multiplied by 100” You hadnt looked at her your entire speech. You set back down the coffee without even taking a sip. You just needed the focus on something else so you could speak your mind freely. Putting your attention back on Nika you noticed a look you had seen before. The same level of concentration she had while on the court except instead of a fierceness it held a soft look. As if she was taking in every feature across your face and engraving it into her soul.

“Can I kiss you?” She had asked, you smiled at her politeness, before nodding. Without a second between she had quickly leaned forward to press her lips against yours. Slowly, you moved your lips against hers. Taking in the softness of her lips and how she tasted like coffee. Not breaking the kiss, she had sat herself onto your lap as her arms wrapped around your neck ensuring you wouldn’t be able to back out this time. Not that you would.

Your hands found her waist. Firm from constant practice and conditioning, you started to grip her sides with your hands while also pulling her forward making sure your chests were flush against each other. Nika let out a soft groan as she opened her mouth, her nose brushing against your cheek as she went to hide her face in your nape, prompting you to kiss against hers. You kissed up and down her neck, her breath had fastened and she started to get louder in your ear. Her sounds made you grip her even harder as you opened your mouth slightly, you started nipping her. Making sure to leave faint purple and red marks across it. Nika had started to slightly grind on your body, erupting a feeling deep within your stomach before a sudden alarm went off on her phone making her quickly turn around to check it.

“Fuck!” She had yelled, extremely frustrated as she had hopped off your lap.

Stunned for a moment at the fact that your guys session had comed to an abrupt end. You stood up asking her what was wrong. Following her into her room as she threw some items from the drawers into her bag.

“I forgot today was Tuesday, im so so so sorry, I have practice today. Geno will kill me if I dont show up on time” She said quickly before heading back out of the room and grabbing her keys off of the kitchen counter.

“Please please please, be here when I get back.”

“So we can..?” You asked, you wanted to joke with her so she could see the irony in the situation, that and the fact she seemed incredibly stressed out over her coach and being late to practice.

“So we can pick up where we left off obviously. You have a weird thing for getting me to say that I want you.” She laughed as she stood in the door way.

“I just love hearing you say it. Sounds good” You smiled at her, admiring the way her hair was slightly frizzy and how pretty she was even with a bare face. If she wasn’t a basketball star she could have easily been a model.

“Okay, ill make sure to tell you just how much I want you when I get back, but you gotta be here babe” She had begun to tease you back, after giving a chuckle at her remark, she stole a quick kiss from you before walking down the dorm buildings hallway.

“I’ll be here, don’t take too long Mühl” You had said down the hallway. She turned around, and suddenly started bolting down the hallway. You didn’t even have a second to react before she kissed you in front of her dorm.

“I don’t know I suddenly feel kinda sick. Im going to text Geno that im going to get the doctor to treat me. Go to the bed. Ill be there in a second.”

Without saying a word, you swiftly turned around and made your way down the dorm and turned into Nikas large room. Sitting on her bed before hearing the door close.

“Yea, im going to see a doctor sorry Coach, yea her name is Dr. (yln). I will, thanks bye.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay W ending once again. Going to write the 2nd part to this later. Maybe post it in 2-3 days. This was my longest post yet brudda.

Send in some requests pretty please. Im out of ideas and had writers block before pushing this baby out at like 1 AM 🙏.

Also W you if you got the multiple references in this fic.

[supernovafics]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: explicit language, (slight) jealous!steve, brief mention of blood/injury (reader has a lil fall)

summary: in which everything has changed for steve after that night at the bar and morning in your bed, but he hasn’t admitted that to you yet. being honest is much harder than he thought it would be and no moment feels completely right, so he continues to pretend that nothing has changed. but, a day at the park playing basketball with you makes it feel a thousand times harder to keep the secret

author's note: the slow burn will end one day (eventually) (i promise) i just love dragging things out for absolutely no reason<3 (i’m sorry!)<333 anyways enjoy this very slight jealous!steve moment! he’s a bit of an asshole in this but also like not really and it’s only kinda for a second

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

It actually wasn’t all that surprising when Steve asked you to go to the park— that Saturday marked the first slightly warm day in months. 

And maybe saying that he “asked you” was a bit of a stretch because this felt more like a hostage situation; one that you technically orchestrated since, as one of his Christmas presents, you promised that you would play basketball with him one time. And today, on one of the first few days of March, he decided to drag you out of the apartment and to the park that was a quick drive away and had semi-nice basketball courts. 

You changed out of your typical Saturday attire, which simply consisted of a hoodie and shorts, and into a cream-colored t-shirt that said, “Sports Suck. And you do too” in black lettering, Steve got it for you for your birthday, and it felt almost too fitting for this moment. You also had on a pair of black athletic shorts that had been your usual attire during high school gym class.

“You’re the only person that I would ever subject myself to doing this for,” You said to Steve as you stepped out of his car and grabbed the basketball that had been sitting at your sneaker covered feet during the drive. “So, I hope you understand how huge of a deal this is.” 

Steve laughed a bit. “I know, and I feel honored that you’re risking your life by doing this for me right now.”

“You say that jokingly, but I brought a first aid kit just in case this ends badly,” You said and handed the basketball over to him. “So, what’s first? A riveting round of HORSE?”

“Before we play any games, and I beat you at all of them, let’s just shoot around for a bit so you can get used to it. Was the last time you played basketball really at my eleventh birthday party?” He asked, shooting the ball from a little bit in front of the three-point line as he spoke and making it almost too effortlessly. 

You grabbed the ball as it bounced on the court and then took a shot. You were standing much closer to the basket than Steve had been but still missed. 

“If that didn’t just answer your question, yes, your birthday party was the last time I even thought about playing. I actually think it was that day that made me realize I should stay away from all sports.”

“You hadn’t been that bad back then.”

You gave him a look. “Steve, I hit your grandma with a basketball. I missed a shot so bad that it hit her.”

It was that day that you were banned from using the basketball hoop in Steve’s backyard, rightfully so. 

“Okay, yeah, but she was fine and forgave you immediately. And even made sure you got an extra piece of cake when you started crying because of how bad you felt,” He said, tossing the ball to you so that you could try another shot. 

“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m horrible at this,” You said before taking a breath and shooting the ball. You missed again, but it at least hit the rim that time. 

“That’s progress,” Steve said and gave you an encouraging smile.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Exactly twenty-three minutes had passed, and the only reason that you were keeping close track of the time was because when Steve had dragged you out of the apartment, you told him that you’d only be playing for an hour; unless you somehow turned into a prodigy. 

You had lost count of how many times you shot the basketball, but you knew that the number of times you successfully made a basket was four. It was an embarrassingly low number, and you definitely were not a prodigy, but each time you surprisingly made a shot, you’d gasp in shock and Steve would whoop happily and give you an enthusiastic high five while saying that the pointers he was giving you were working. You weren’t entirely sure that was true— and it wasn’t because he was a bad teacher, you were just a bad student. You were certain that each shot you made was based on pure luck and simple probability; if you kept shooting the ball, you’d eventually end up making something. 

And when you told Steve exactly that, he only shook his head at you. “No, you made those four shots because you’re good.” 

How happy and positive he was being about this entire thing was the only thing that made it bearable. 

You laughed a bit. “I love you and your encouragement, but that is such an overstatement.”

“For someone that hasn’t even touched a basketball in eight years, you are good.” 

“Thank you,” You said with an amused smile on your face instead of rebutting his statement. “I’ll make sure to try out for the local rec team when the time comes.” 

“That’s a great idea. I’ll coach you to help you prepare,” Steve said jokingly, and you only laughed in response. 

You were about to ask him to toss you the ball, but a group of guys walking past you two, probably headed to the empty hoop on the other side of the court, caught your attention for a second instead. There were four of them and one smiled at you as he passed by you and Steve and he was kind of cute so you smiled back. 

You were completely unaware, but there was something about that smile you gave the guy that made Steve have to look away from the entire nonverbal interaction and focus on the basketball in his hand instead. All too quickly he wanted to blurt it all out, everything that had hit him so abruptly that morning in your bed barely two weeks ago. 

I love you. I’m in love with you.

For the most part, that thought was the only thing that consumed his mind these days, especially when you two were together; which of course was way more often than not. 

There had probably been at least a hundred moments where he almost accidentally let it slip. Hours after it all had hit him, you two were sitting on the couch mindlessly watching some random sitcom and you leaned your head on his shoulder and he was so close to simply whispering it to you. And then when you two were in your Film and TV history class that Tuesday and writing unserious notes back and forth to one another in the margins of his notebook, he wanted to just write the five words down and slide the notebook back over to you. And just last night when you two were driving to the movie theater to see something with Robin and Eddie, he felt the urge to say it when a stupid love song that felt as if it cheesily summed up exactly how he was feeling came on the radio. 

However, he would always bite his tongue right before he told you because he was waiting for that perfect moment to be honest with you, and nothing felt entirely right just yet. And it especially didn’t feel like a good time in this moment where you were smiling at some guy that wasn’t him and a certain feeling that could only be deemed as jealousy sat in the pit of his stomach. 

Steve cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him and then he tossed the ball to you. “Your turn.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first round of HORSE was started and finished barely fifteen minutes later, quickly ending with Steve winning. Even though you could tell that he was going very easy on you and trying to let you win, you still somehow managed to lose. 

“This loss feels so much more embarrassing knowing that you were trying to let me win,” You had said after you missed your shot and got an “E.” 

“I wasn’t,” Steve told you with a shake of his head and you only gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him. 

You reached down to grab the ball and stop it from rolling away, but you somehow tripped over nothing but your own feet and landed hard on the ground. 

You yelped as you collided with the concrete. Luckily, you thought fast enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant. “Ouch. Shit.” 

Steve was by your side in an instant and started helping you up. “Are you okay?”

You could only shrug in response to his question at first as you stood up with the help of his hand on your arm. 

“Okay, just kidding, that moment was a lot more embarrassing than losing the game,” You told him. When you looked down and saw the deep scrape on your knee and the blood already starting to rise from the wound, you immediately had to look away from it. “I put the first aid kit in the backseat.”

“What? You actually brought it? I thought you were joking,” Steve said, keeping an arm around you as he helped you walk over to the car and opened the passenger side door so that you could sit down. 

“Of course, I wasn’t joking. It felt inevitable that something like this would happen,” You said as you sat sideways in the passenger seat so that your feet were on the ground, and then you grabbed a couple napkins from the glove compartment to place it on your knee and help stop the bleeding. “Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen in the first five minutes.”  

Steve grabbed the first aid kit before kneeling down in front of you and you looked at the four guys down at the end of the court. They were playing a two against two game and the one that smiled at you earlier just made a shot at the three-point line. 

You stopped looking at him and instead focused on the top of Steve’s head. “Ugh, I can’t believe I just fell in front of that cute guy.” 

“Maybe he didn’t even see,” Steve mumbled with a quick shrug.

“I doubt that,” You said and then sighed. “These last few weeks have been very humbling. First, things immediately going downhill with Jamie, and now this.” 

Steve didn’t know how things had ended with Jamie, you had yet to tell him the exact reasoning, but selfishly he had been glad that they did. Although he couldn’t find it in him to tell you the truth just yet, the thought of now having to see you with anyone else annoyed him. 

You tapped his shoulder so that he would look up at you. “It would be a bad idea if I went up to him and asked for his number, right?” 

“Yeah, it would,” Steve answered, pulling his eyes away from yours and focusing on grabbing something from the first aid kit instead. His words were a lie, for the most part— he personally would’ve thought it was cute if a girl did that to him. He immediately felt like shit for lying to you, but not enough to go back on what he said. 

You nodded at his response. “Okay.”

You kept your eyes away from what Steve was doing as he cleaned up your knee, looking up at the sky instead until he was done and placing the large band-aid over it. 

“Thanks,” You said and smiled at him. 

He looked up at you for a brief moment before standing up and simply giving you a small nod. He went over to grab the basketball, which had rolled into the grass, and then put it in the backseat. 

The drive back to the apartment was quiet and it felt more like Steve’s doing than yours. He suddenly seemed distant, maybe even mad at you, and the abrupt shift felt so odd.

You looked over at him. “What’s wrong?” 

He shook his head. “I’m fine.” 

It felt pretty clear that he wasn’t fine, though. You could tell that he was annoyed at you for reasons that you couldn’t decipher and that only made you annoyed as well. You didn’t even play with the radio during the drive back to the apartment, you just sat there with your arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window. 

You wondered if the prevailing silence bothered him as much as it bothered you, but then that question didn’t even matter because he was pulling into the parking lot of the apartment building and parking in the usual open spot next to your car, and you were unbuckling your seatbelt. 

“What happened with you and Jamie?” Steve asked before you could open the door and step out of his car. “You never really talked about it.” 

The abruptness of the question surprised you; and it wasn’t even the question itself that was the surprising part, it was more so the timing of it. Was that why he decided to randomly get mad at you? Because you never told him what happened on that dumb date? And why the hell would it even matter at this point? 

You weren’t even entirely sure why you hadn’t told Steve the full extent of what happened. When you came back from the date that night, you only said that things had gone badly. 

You turned to look at Steve. “He didn’t like you.” 

His eyebrows furrowed at that. “What?”

“Well, not you necessarily, but us; our friendship,” You said, looking down at your band-aid-covered knee. “When me and him went on the date, he asked about what my emergency was and why I had to cancel the date the first time, and I told him about your accidental phone call and you being drunk at the bar and me having to go get you, and he didn’t see that as much of an emergency; especially since you had wanted Eddie to pick you up. He thought it was a little weird how easily I canceled plans to go do something for you, and the whole night kind of shifted awkwardly from there.”

You remembered that entire conversation perfectly, and you honestly couldn’t even get that annoyed with Jamie when he said any of that because you didn’t think that your priorities would ever be able to change. Steve would probably always be at the top of your unwritten list, and you had come to the conclusion that whoever else wanted to be in your life would just have to deal with that. 

“Oh.”

You looked at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry.” 

Hearing him say that only confused you. “Sorry for what?”

He was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t know…” 

“Is that why you were mad at me just now? Because I didn’t tell you what happened on the date?”

“No, I don’t even know why I brought it up right now, I was just curious,” He said with a shrug before meeting your gaze. “And I’m not mad at you for anything. I promise.” 

“Okay…” You said as you found one of his hands and gave it a light squeeze. “So, what’s up with you? Clearly, something’s wrong, right? Is it something with your parents?”

“No, nothing with them,” He responded, which was an answer that only confused you more. It looked like there were a thousand things going through his head right then, and you couldn’t seem to decipher any of it, which felt foreign to you— you were so used to reading him like a book. “It’s just… it’s kind of hard to explain right now.”

If it really had nothing to do with his parents, you were unsure what else it could be and what else would be difficult to talk to you about. In your head, there wasn’t supposed to be anything that you couldn’t talk to each other about; you were best friends for a reason. It was easy to joke around and playfully banter with one another, but it had also always been easy to have the types of deep and honest conversations that neither of you would ever have with anyone else. 

You decided not to push him further in this moment, though. Whatever was going on with him, you knew that he’d tell you eventually. 

“It’s okay. Tell me whenever you want to,” You said softly and then decided to say your next words jokingly to shift the mood a bit. “But stop being weird about whatever it is, or I will think that you hate me or something.”

Steve only shook his head at your words at first. “I could never hate you.”

Maybe that was when you should’ve seen it, when you should’ve realized how he felt about you. There was something about the way he said his short statement— so certainly, so truthfully— that should’ve made you connect all of the dots. But, that was the last possible thing on your mind. You would’ve thought that he wanted to move out of the apartment for some random reason before you even considered thinking that he had any sort of romantic feelings toward you. You two had been friends for forever so that just didn’t sound like a plausible thought. 

Therefore, instead of any sort of “aha!” moment hitting you right then, you smiled playfully at Steve and said, “Good.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[internetscenarios]

hey sweetie ! i was wondering if u could do like head cannons of meeting tgc as softwillys gf ?

i love this!!!! yes of course anon🫡🫡

by the way!! i know yumi does obviously not live with tgc anymore, and i know tanner is going back to texas at some point but shhhh lets pretend it’s how it was

also i get worried confusion happens when i write out characters so heres a little chart

nick

tanner

larry

yumi

isaac

meeting tgc as softwilly girlfliend ₊˚ෆ

♡︎ i like to imagine that one day you and nick are just randomly in the kitchen before going out, someone comes downstairs and starts screaming because like!! who is this in their house!!

let’s say it’s tanner

“nick!! who is this stranger!!”

“this is my girlfriend, i thought you already knew.”

tanner seems like the type to fully interrogate you, bright light in your face; his phone flashlight, and sits you down across the kitchen counter.

“who are you! where did you come from?”

“erm. the hospital i was born in?”

♡︎ besides that, once you actually talk and get to know eachother yall are LOCKED in. he’s a funny guy so if nick ever annoys you he’s always there too make you laugh

“nick has really annoyed me! like why does he think it’s okay too just leave the cat food spilled everywhere?”

“uh huh! you tell him sister.”

♡ ︎obviously nick wants you too meet all his friends, but let’s say you’re like 2 months into the relationship he isn’t necessarily ready. so what ends up happening is you coincidentally meeting them one by one.

you all have pretty strange interactions by meeting them, one time larry and tanner where downstairs while you and nick came to pick something up quick.

nick went to go grab something from his room and had asked you to grab him a water bottle from the kitchen, walking through the living room hallway to the kitchen, larry’s head just kinda follows you.

“there’s a criminal in our house.”

“hai y/n!!”

you wave and smile, before leaving the kitchen and back to nick’s office.

nick likely explains to larry that the stranger was and he’s like

“ohhhhhhhhhh.”

♡ soon enough!! you’re meeting them properly, like an actual introduction.

nick probably calls it a roommate house meeting and says it is urgent!!

“guys, this is my girlfriend. please be nice to her and treat her with respect.”

“hello!”

they all say hello back like it’s a zoom class, probably introducing themselves one by one.

“does nick wash his socks.”

you get scattered with actual questions, and some interesting ones.

“so, where are you from?”

“does nick go to gym with you and ever try throwing dumb bells? happened to me once.”

♡ in the end!! it is all good and dandy, it definitely does feel like you’re part of the group sometimes considering they wanna include you in so much stuff!!

♡︎ plus nick is very good boyfriend! i feel like he will go out of his way too defend you like you could murder someone and hes suddenly your lawyer

♡ i think i’ve said this before with isaac, but if nick posts you on his instagram larry and tanner are recreating it.

birthday insert cuz it was my birthday a few weeks ago!

imagine the photo he posted was just a picture of you and him!!

softwilly: happy birthday to my beautiful girlfriend! 🤍

next day larry and tanner are posted up like..

larrycroft: happy birthday to my beautiful boyfriend.. come back to papa 😈

i’m crying oh my god this was very funny to write!! i hope this is okay sorry for not having a consistent order on posting but i think i just end up doing it whenever i’m not busy

[jd07201990]

The next time you’re at a Grecian Resort, enjoying the food, the pool, and the breeze from the ocean, be sure not to insult a God, hiding in plain sight as a gym Trainer; Unless you want to be, “Blessed” with Herculean strength, and everything the movie didn’t mention comes with that! I wasn’t an athlete at all. This was supposed to be a vacation before college, where I was majoring in Physics. Then, one afternoon while I was passing by the Resort’s gym, I saw a hoard of sweating, grunting behemoths, lifting, running, and posing, while a beast of a man with Silver-Blonde hair and a thick beard, pushed them hard. I snorted, remembering the meatheads at school who’d gotten free-ride scholarships for sports, while I’d worked hard to keep my GPA flawless. The man locked eyes with me, glared, and suddenly I found myself walking toward him, my feet doing the work as I struggled to try to stop. This is why I should have kept my mouth shut. But when he made me explain why I thought Athletics wasn’t important, I decided to be snide, insulting anyone wasting time with sports and weights. Then, emboldened by his relative silence, his arms crossing over his titanic chest, I went in for him as well, his age mostly, but also that he worked as a trainer at a Resort, not something to brag about. Well, turns out that was Zeus, this is his resort, and every one of those beefed up, thick-built lumbering brutes currently filling the gym with a humid funk, were snotty rich boys who’d been stuck here for weeks, as the Zeus forced them to grow. I was then pushed onto a bench, and began helplessly lifting, as Zeus pushed me through the first workout of my life, and many, many more. I was there 3 months and did nothing but eat, sleep, workout, and sometimes we were allowed to talk with the others. Over that time, with the help of a cursed metabolism, I had to stuff myself at every meal, often snacking in between. We were all like this, constantly shoving food into our mouths to fuel the endless bulk. The whole place seemed to ring out with grunting, groaning, the sound of protein shakes being chugged, and helpless belching, as our bodies burned the calories into pounds. We had no choice, and Zeus only made it worse when you complained. By the time my vacation was finished, I was 6’, 205lbs of thick, padded bulk. Just a pile of muscle, lumbering around on huge, sweaty size 14s. Everything about me had gotten big. Even my hair grew, wild and curly, although it was also more often than not, plastered to my forehead as I grunted out another 50 reps. No matter how much I showered, there was always the lingering scent of testosterone pouring from under my arms. My pecs were Zeus’s pride, and he finally let me go when he said I’d gotten far too big to ever hide the muscle and warned me that I’d never lose the bulk, that I’d always be starving for food, and would get fat if I didn’t work out. That’s how I started college as a Big, sweaty Physics Major, with a skinny little roommate who complains about my mountain of dirty laundry, my sweaty shoes, and has no idea there’s nothing I can do about it! I can’t fight it, I eat, I sleep, I work out, and sometimes I even get to study, when I’m not getting crumbs all over my textbooks.

[syuga-s]

i made my fiancés tinder profile

w.c. 8.5k pairing. non-idol!jeon jungkook x fem!reader genre. cute and angsty friends to lovers <333 a/n. idk guys i wrote this like a month ago but I JUST GOT THE ENERGY TO POST IT so i apologize in advance if you find mistakes here and there, ALSO i made the playlist that inspired me to make this fic so i'll just leave it here if you want to give it a listen or save it don't look at my other playlists tho they're a mess 🦦

You always thought you were pretty good at giving dating advice. It’s easier when you’re not the one doing the dating, right? That’s how it all started with Jungkook. You two were chilling at your apartment one lazy Sunday afternoon when you suddenly blurted out, “Why are you still single, Jungkook? You’re amazing, good-looking, and fun. You should at least be on like three different dating apps.”

He laughed, running a hand through his hair in that effortlessly cool way he always did. “Dunno' just haven’t found the right person,” he said with a smile that made you heart do a weird little flip. “I don’t think I’m good at dating, haha.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you shot back, sitting up. “Let's make you an account. We’ll get you some matches in no time.”

He hesitated for a second, then shrugged. “Sure, let's do it.”

And that’s how you ended up setting up his profile, not realizing that this would be the beginning of the end of your denial and the start of a love story you never saw coming.

You grabbed his phone and he settled onto the couch next to you. “Okay, first things first. We need some killer photos. Let’s start with your main picture.”

You opened the camera app. You sat there, looking at his phone for a minute before he let out a loud laugh.

You looked up. “What is it?"

He grinned, pointing at something behind you. "It's just Tae taking a picture of us setting up a dating profile," Jungkook said, chuckling.

You turned around to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, holding his phone up with a huge grin on his face. "Don't mind me," Taehyung sang out, winking at the two of you. "Just capturing this for posterity."

Tae showed Jungkook the picture and a fit of laughter erupted again, now from the two of them. "Your face! You look so focused and super serious right now."

Rolling your eyes, you lightly smacked his arm. "This is serious business! We need to find the perfect picture to reel in all the potential matches."

Then you started browsing through his photo gallery to curate the most attractive selection of pictures.

There you had him on the gym doing weights, him on his boxing gear, with his dogs, him doing the dishes with a strangely tight black shirt, a few selfies on his car, with his motorcycle. You could sell a whole album with his photos, how on earth would you do him justice and only choose 10 of them?

"Why is this so hard?"

Jungkook chuckled. "Because you're not choosing photos for a profile, you're trying to find a reason to stare at me and my body for too long."

"Boy, I'm trying to help you here, and if I'm gonna do it, I might as well do this like a professional matchmaker." You retorted.

His eyebrows furrowed. "When have you ever paired someone up?"

You smiled smugly. "That's none of your business, Jeon."

"It is, actually, since you're helping me with this thing."

"Fine, if you must know, I hooked up one my friend's older sister with my college roommate."

"Really? How did that go?" He asked, curious.

"Pretty well, they've been together for a couple years now." You answered, still going through his photos.

"Wasn't your college roommate that guy with the blue hair?" He asked, his tone changing slightly.

"Uh-huh, why?"

"Wasn't he the guy you were dating during our third year?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that."

"How can you forget about him?" He sounded annoyed. "You spent an entire week crying in my bed because he broke up with you."

"Oh my god, did I? I don't recall." You were playing dumb, of course you remembered but there was no need to talk about that. "What do you think of this one?" It was a shirtless picture, point blank.

"I think you look kinda slutty but everyone's gonna eat it up, you'll get a date in no time." You continued.

"I am not posting a shirtless picture, are you crazy?" He snatched the phone from your hand.

"Well, it's not like we're gonna sell the damn picture, it's just your torso and the picture is really nice, you look good, I don't know why you're making such a fuss."

He didn't say anything, just looked at you.

"What? I'm complimenting you, it's the truth." You rolled your eyes.

"Okay, thank you." He was blushing.

"Are you blushing?" You asked, amused.

"No, it's just really hot in here." He took off his hoodie, throwing it somewhere in your living room.

You didn't even realize how close he was sitting next to you. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd been on your couch, but something felt different today. It was strange.

All the photos that you chose showcased different aspects of Jungkook's personality. Each photo told a story about him - his love for his dogs, his passion for staying active, his playful side with silly selfies. As you scrolled through his gallery, you couldn't help but notice the genuine smile on his face in many of the pictures, a smile that seemed to light up the whole world.

After him putting up a fight on choosing his favorite photos of him, next you had to write him something for his bio.

Jungkook leaned in closer to read over your shoulder.

"This is stupid, what do you want me to write? My name, my age, my occupation?" He was whining.

"Yes, those things obviously, but also things like, I don't know a joke or something to sum up your personality. I want them to know you're fun and cute, mind-blowingly good at everything, something along those lines."

"I am mind-blowingly good at everything." He said, his tone confident.

You rolled your eyes.

"So let's say, what if I write 'shit i'd date the hell out of me', you like it?" You asked him with a smile.

He laughed. "I do, I really do."

"Okay, it's settled." You wrote down the phrase, and a bunch of things about him.

"Now we just have to add something that will hook them up."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, just be honest. Just, don't write that you're looking for a girl to have sex with."

"But I am looking for a girl to have sex with." Blank expression on his face.

"You are so dumb sometimes." You threw a pillow at his face.

He caught it mid-air. "God, you know I'm not look— this was YOUR IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE!" He yelled, trying to defend himself.

"Yeah, but, just write something that will make you look not like a manwhore."

He thought for a moment. "I know, I got it."

"Okay, shoot."

"I'm a manwhore." He had the brightest smile.

"Oh, for the love of..." You couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "Alright, fine. If that's what you want to go with, who am I to stop you?"

You two were done, and he was already getting notifications.

"Woah, that was... surprisingly fast." He was surprised, and you were proud of yourself.

"Of course, you're hot and cute. We don't see your type in dating apps very often."

He gave you a weird look, you couldn't quite figure out. "Thanks?"

"No worries, I'm sure you'll find someone in no time." You patted him on the back as you were getting up and ready to go to the kitchen and make some dinner. "See who you like and I'll help you on how to ask them on a date."

"Okay." He smiled.

"What are you smiling at? Are you looking at them already?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to see which one of these girls will be our first victim."

"Don't call them victims." You laughed.

The truth is that Jungkook only agreed to this because he loves spending time with you.

As you busied yourself in the kitchen, Jungkook couldn't shake the warmth spreading through his chest. He scrolled through the notifications on his phone, half-heartedly swiping left and right. His mind wasn't on finding a date; it was on you.

He couldn't believe he agreed to this. Making a profile on Tinder just to humor the best friend he was in love with, seemed harmless at first, but now, seeing the app light up with potential matches, he felt burdened. He wasn't here to date. He was here because he wanted to be closer to you, even if it meant pretending to search for someone else.

Each time a new message popped up, he found himself wondering if you'd approve. Would you laugh at the cheesy pickup lines together? Would you help him craft witty responses? He realized he didn't care about meeting any of these girls; he only cared about spending time with you.

But as much as he tried to focus on the dating app in front of him, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. To the way you laughed and teased him, to the way you always seemed to know what he needed even when he didn't realize it himself. Jungkook found himself longing for something he couldn't quite name, a feeling that stirred deep within him whenever he was near you.

He sighed, setting his phone down on the coffee table as he leaned back on the couch because he didn't bother looking through any of the profiles. Instead he made his way to the kitchen, where you were standing over a pot, stirring absentmindedly.

He stepped up behind you, watching as you stirred. His chest was warm, and he had a strange urge to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his nose into your neck.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft.

You turned your head slightly, not looking at him but smiling. "Hey."

Jungkook took a step closer, placing his hand over yours. "Let me help," he said.

You handed him the wooden spoon, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange. He stirred the pot gently, mirroring the way he wanted to handle your heart. Neither of you spoke, the only sound filling the room was the clinking of utensils against the pot.

"You okay there?" Your voice broke through his daydreaming.

He answered you softly while running a hand through his hair nervously. "Yeah, just... thinking."

As the aroma of the dish wafted through the air, you felt his warmth seeping into you, comforting and familiar. You couldn't ignore the heavy tension that hung between you, thick like a fog.

He cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "So... what do we do now?" His voice was low, almost a whisper.

You turned around to face him, his eyes searching yours for answers neither of you dared to voice. "We eat dummy," you said with a laugh.

You and Jungkook sat down for dinner, the tension from earlier still lingering between you. As you ate, you caught each other stealing glances when the other wasn't looking.

"So...have you looked at any of the matches yet?" you asked, trying to break the silence.

Jungkook shifted in his seat. "A few, but no one really caught my eye," he said evasively.

You nodded, poking at your food. "Well if you see anyone you like, let me know. I want to help."

"Thanks, I will," Jungkook said with a small smile.

You returned the smile weakly, a pang in your chest at the thought of Jungkook dating someone else. You had pushed the feelings down for so long, not wanting to jeopardize your friendship. But your dumb decision of making him a dating profile forced you to confront how you really felt.

After you finished eating together, Jungkook helped you with the dishes. You dried off your hands, and he was ready to leave. Almost as if he was on a rush.

"Thanks for making dinner," he said with a smile.

You nodded. "Of course, you know I love having you over."

You stood at the door awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

Jungkook cleared his throat. "I'll text you," he said.

You gave him a thumbs-up, your voice coming out more high-pitched than normal. "Yeah, cool. See ya later."

He chuckled and leaned down to give you a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, breathing in his scent. You held him a little longer than necessary, wanting to memorize the feeling of his arms enveloping you.

Jungkook's hand lingered on your shoulder as he pulled away.

"Goodnight," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he turned to leave. You watched him go, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. As the door closed behind him, you leaned against it, aching with the realization that you might have just pushed away the one person who meant more to you than just a friend.

If only you had the courage to do something.

The following week, you found yourself cleaning your house, the mess had piled up and you had a bunch of your clothes all over the place and that's when you found Jungkook's hoodie from last week. It had fallen between your couch and the wall, so you pulled it out with a considerable amount of force. That's when his iPod fell to the ground.

He still uses this thing? The corners of your mouth turned up involuntarily as you recalled teasing him about the ancient device.

You were surprised, most people uses their phones, or maybe he still has this thing because it was a present from you. If you hadn't seen it you wouldn't have remembered that you had given him this iPod for Christmas like 7 years ago.

You took the device in your hand and turned it on. You figured it would be nice to hear his playlists while you kept cleaning.

You should have just connected it and played it on shuffle. But I guess humans are very nosey creatures. Creatures who love to go through someone else's things, just to see another hidden side of said person.

So, like any other normal human being, you opened his lists, and started to go through them.

"Golden mix", "Euphoria", "OST's". Those were pretty standard. "Lonely nights" a bit of a stretch, "Best of the 00s", "Dance party" and "Songs to sing along". Fork found in kitchen. And there was one more playlist that caught your attention.

Simply labeled with— "Your name."

Your heart started beating faster. What is this?

You opened the playlist and you were welcomed by a list of what it seemed like... love songs.

The first one was "Best Friend". You didn't know what to think. Why did he have a playlist with songs like "Kiss me" by Matt Maltese, "Mountains" by Charlotte Day Wilson, "Making Time" by Rex Orange County. All love songs.

Then it hit you. He's in love.

You started panicking. Your heart racing with thoughts you couldn't ignore any longer. The playlist named after you echoed in your mind.

You couldn't believe it. Jungkook, your best friend, the one who always seemed so casual and carefree, had a playlist dedicated to you filled with love songs. Your mind raced as you tried to process this new information. Was it possible that he felt the same way you did? That the tension between you wasn't one-sided after all?

You sat down on the couch, still holding his iPod in your hands. The weight of it felt heavier now, as if it held all the unspoken words and emotions that had been swirling between you and Jungkook. You couldn't bring yourself to put it down; instead, you scrolled through the playlist again, each song title tugging at your heartstrings.

A sense of warmth washed over you, mingled with fear and uncertainty. What should you do now? Should you confront Jungkook about the playlist, lay all your cards on the table and risk changing everything between you? Or should you keep quiet, pretend you never stumbled upon this precious list?

You knew there was something going on, you weren't stupid. But you couldn't bring yourself to accept the possibility that the guy you love, might like you back. It's easier to pretend like nothing is happening. You have built this whole imaginary life with him in your head, but not once did you consider that it might be a two-way street.

"I already said I'm in love with you Can't you hear me? Why do you act like you don't? You know well the spark in my eyes when I look at you Can't you see it? Why do you act like you don't?"

You had been listening to the song on repeat for an hour. It was stuck in your head. Your heart was aching.

The reality was finally sinking in.

"He's in love with me," you whispered to yourself, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave. It explained so much—his kindness, his attentiveness, even his willingness to go along with making a stupid profile for a stupid dating app. But you had built walls around your heart, afraid to acknowledge the possibility that your feelings were reciprocated.

You felt a surge of emotions, a mix of joy and fear swirling inside you. Jungkook's unspoken confession through his playlist left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely hopeful.

"Falling" played softly through the speakers, its lyrics painting a picture of longing and uncertainty. It mirrored your own inner turmoil, the battle between fear and listening to your heart for once.

You had spent so long convincing yourself that this was just a friendship, that any romantic thoughts were one-sided. Now, faced with the truth, you didn't know what to do next. Should you tell Jungkook? Should you pretend you never saw the playlist?

Your mind raced with questions, but deep down, you knew you couldn't ignore this any longer. Jungkook's feelings were out in the open, laid bare through these songs that said a lot about his emotions.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you. Each melody, each lyric felt like a confession, a plea for you to see what had been in front of you all along.

"I already said I'm in love with you," the lyrics repeated in your mind, echoing the words you longed to hear from Jungkook himself.

The weight of the situation settled over you. You constructed the exact same playlist on your own phone, replaying it endlessly, searching for answers in the same songs he had chosen. It became a ritual, a way to understand what Jungkook hadn't yet said aloud. Each track felt like a message, a confession hidden in plain sight.

As days passed, the playlist became a lifeline, a connection to Jungkook that transcended words. You wondered if he knew the impact his secret gesture had on you, if he realized how deeply you analyzed each song, each lyric, each subtle hint of affection.

It was as if the playlist had become a conversation between your hearts, a silent dialogue that spoke volumes about your unspoken emotions. You couldn't deny the truth any longer—the love you felt for Jungkook had bloomed quietly, nurtured by his unwavering presence in your life and it reflected in the selection of songs carefully chosen by him.

And so you continued to listen, to immerse yourself in the music that spoke of love and longing. It was a soundtrack to his emotions, a testament to the unspeakable love that had grown between you and him.

The guys had planned a small gathering at your house. Hoseok, Jimin and Tae arrived at the same time around 8:00 p.m. with food, drinks and Cards Against Humanity. They were already having fun when they rang the bell.

"Hey," you said as you opened the door.

"Hey!" they greeted you.

You all headed towards the living room and they placed the things they brought on the table.

You chuckled, feeling a wave of warmth at their enthusiasm. "Thanks for coming, guys. I've got the place ready—cleaned up only for you the other day," you teased, motioning towards the neatly arranged living room.

As you all settled in, chatting and unpacking the snacks and games, there was a noticeable absence. Jungkook hadn't arrived yet, and though you tried not to dwell on it, his absence didn't go unnoticed by your friends.

"Where's Jungkook?" Tae finally asked, voicing the question that lingered in the air.

You shrugged nonchalantly, though your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. "Not sure. He said he might be a bit late."

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with Jimin. "Didn't he say he was gonna meet with someone from Tinder?"

"Tinder?"

"You know, the dating app," Tae chimed in, taking a bite of a snack.

"I know what Tinder is Tae,” you replied with a laugh, trying to keep your cool.

"So you didn't know he was on a date?"

"No, he didn't tell me. Are you serious? He's on a date right now?" Your voice came out louder than expected, and you cursed yourself for the slip.

Jimin frowned, concerned. "Are you okay, Y/N?"

You waved dismissively, trying to downplay the hurt and disappointment. "Yeah, all good... well, more food and games for us until he gets here."

You tried to push down the gnawing feeling of jealousy that threatened to surface at the thought of Jungkook on a date with someone else. The idea of him with another person stirred up emotions you had been trying so hard to accept the past days. You forced a smile as you joined in the banter and laughter, attempting to bury your own conflicting emotions.

Despite their casual remarks, you couldn't shake the unease settling in your stomach. You hoped Jungkook would arrive soon, eager for his presence to dispel the nervous tension building within you.

The minutes ticked by, filled with laughter and infinite jokes over Cards Against Humanity. Each time the doorbell rang, you found yourself tensing, hoping it was him. But each time, it turned out to be someone else—a delivery person, one of your neighbors...

As the evening progressed, you couldn't help but steal glances at your phone, checking for any messages from Jungkook. But you decided not to keep waiting and decided to send him a text first.

'whats taking you so longggggggg' it read.

He replied instantly. 'i'm outside, coming now'

You put down your phone, your heart pounding. A few seconds later, you heard familiar footsteps approaching and there was a knock on the door. You got up, heading towards the door.

"He's here!" Tae exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as he jumped up to answer the door with you.

You held your breath as Jungkook stepped inside, a sheepish smile on his lips as he greeted everyone. His eyes met yours briefly, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down.

"Sorry I'm late guys," Jungkook said, setting down a bag of drinks next to Tae's.

Jimin smirked teasingly. "Lost track of time, huh?"

Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Haha nah,"

Absolutely not. It was a disaster. Why did I agree to this? She seemed nice enough online, he thought, but in person... It just wasn’t there. The conversation felt forced, and I couldn’t wait for it to end. He grimaced, recalling how he struggled to find common ground and forced a laugh at her jokes. I should've been with y/n tonight, helping her get everything ready for this.

Of course, all of that stayed in his head. He was embarrassed to tell everyone how much he hated meeting someone new. It would just give your friends the opening to tease him more about it.

"Well, you made it, and we're all here now. So let's start" you suggested, breaking the silence.

His eyes sought out yours, finding a mix of emotions reflected back at him—surprise, curiosity, and something he couldn't quite place.

Everyone nodded in agreement and moved to gather around the coffee table, pulling your cushions closer.

With Jungkook's presence, the gathering felt complete, as if a missing piece had been found.

And as you all laughed and played into the night, you couldn't ignore the way Jungkook's gaze lingered on you, a silent reassurance of the feelings you'd been trying to suppress.

"I'm going to take a photo of this." Tae announced, lifting up his beer.

You and the others followed suit, holding your drinks up and smiling. Jungkook on your right got closer to you for the picture, cheek to cheek, his scent surrounding you. You wanted to lean in and practically inhale him.

"Perfect." Tae snapped the shot, and then showed it to the group. "What do you think, everyone?"

Everyone agreed that it was a good photo.

"We all look great," Tae said.

"But not as good as those two," Hoseok joked.

You rolled your eyes. "Please."

"It's true," Hoseok insisted. "You guys look good together."

Jimin nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "They're right. You’d make a cute couple."

Jungkook felt shy at their words. It's not like he was trying to hide his feelings for you, but he hadn't exactly made his intentions known, either. It was frustrating, wanting to be closer to you but not knowing how.

At least it was encouraging to know that your closest friends were seeing you both that way. That meant he had hope, right?

"Okay, that's enough," you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Let's keep playing."

As the game resumed, the group's attention shifted back to the cards.

You cleared your throat, shifting awkwardly on the cushion. "So... how was your date?"

Jungkook winced, not meeting your eyes. "It was okay," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

You bit your lip, curiosity gnawing at you. "Just okay? What happened?"

Jungkook shook his head, still not meeting your gaze. "I don't know. It just didn't feel right, I guess."

You tilted your head, searching his face. "What do you mean?"

Jungkook shrugged, a sheepish expression on his face. "It was just... awkward. We didn't really click. I don't know."

Your chest tightened, a mix of emotions swirling inside. "Oh," you managed, turning back to the game. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not good at this kind of thing, you know? Meeting new people, going on dates. It's hard for me. I'd rather be with people I already know and trust."

You knew what he meant. The same went for you. It was hard enough trying to navigate your feelings without having to worry about other people, too.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. "I get it."

"I just wish it could be easier, you know? Like, finding someone you actually like who happens to also like you back, and not having to worry about anything else. Just enjoying each other's company."

Your breath caught, your mind reeling from his words. And from the way he was looking at you, you could tell he wasn't just talking about friendship.

"Why would you say something like that?" you questioned, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Jungkook's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Say something like what?"

"That you wish you could be with someone who actually likes you and not have to worry about anything else."

"I... because it's true. I don't want to go on stupid dates anymore, I want to be with someone I care about. Someone I can laugh and have fun with."

You swallowed, your pulse quickening.

"Someone like who?"

Jungkook exhaled, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I think you know who," he said quietly.

You stared at him, speechless, as his words sunk in. Your heart was racing, your body buzzing with adrenaline.

Hoseok, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly made himself heard, "I think I'm stuck in your bathroom!"

You and Jungkook turned to find your friend, who sounded flustered and slightly panicked. Jimin and Tae burst into laughter, trying to contain themselves as Hoseok continued to tug at the bathroom door.

"What do you mean you're stuck?" Jimin managed to ask between giggles.

Hoseok yelled helplessly. "I went in to use the bathroom, and now the door won't open!"

Jungkook glanced at you with a bemused smile, the tension from earlier dissipating with the absurdity of the situation. "Seriously, Hobi?" he chuckled.

Hoseok sounded exasperated. "It's not funny! How am I supposed to get out of here?"

"I'll go get some tools," Tae offered, still chuckling as he headed towards the kitchen.

You stepped closer to the bathroom door, trying to assess the situation. "It's just stuck. Let me try," you suggested, reaching for the handle and giving it a firm tug.

To everyone's surprise, the door swung open easily, revealing Hoseok looking both relieved and slightly embarrassed. "Oh, thanks, I swear it was stuck…"

Jimin clapped Hoseok on the back, still laughing. "Sure it was, Hobi. Sure."

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur of laughter and games, and despite the lingering awkwardness from earlier, you were glad that the night had gone well.

It was close to 2:00 a.m. when your friends finally began to call it a night, and you were exhausted.

"Thanks again for coming, everyone. I had a lot of funnnn," you said, giving them each a hug goodbye.

Jungkook was still on your kitchen helping you clean up all the mess you made. Drying the dishes and placing the glasses on your cabinets. You were cleaning up the table when he walked up to you.

"Need any help?"

"I'm done, thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"I am, thanks Kookie,"

You started walking towards your room when you heard him speak up.

"I really liked being here tonight."

"I know it was a lot of fun," you replied with a small smile. You grabbed his hoodie and his iPod to return them. Staring at the endearing device. Almost as if it were something fragile.

"I'm glad you had a good time," you responded as you walked back to the kitchen, handing him back his belongings. As you stood there in the dimly lit room, a comfortable silence settled between you. Jungkook's gaze was intense as he looked at you, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken.

Jungkook paused his moves, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I was thinking... maybe we could hang out again this week, just the two of us."

"What about the girl from Tinder?" you asked as you returned to face him, your tone sharper than you intended.

Jungkook frowned, confusion clouding his features. "What are you talking about? You know I went on one date. I told you it was a disaster."

You sighed, suddenly feeling foolish. "Yeah, I know, don't know why I asked that, haha" you muttered. "Didn't know you still used this thing,"

He smiled, his fingers brushing over the iPod. "I still love my music in here, you know, it sounds a lot better"

"Yeah, that's what I thought,"

He looked at you intently, and the air between you seemed to grow heavy.

"I've missed spending time with you, Y/N."

Your breath caught in your throat, your pulse quickening as you stared at him. "Me too," you whispered.

"So, is that a yes?"

"A yes to what?"

"The offer to hang out,"

"Oh, right. Um, yeah, sure. Sounds nice."

Jungkook's face lit up. "Cool. Well, I guess I'll see you later, then." With a final smile, he turned and left.

You watched him go and your mind was spinning. Jungkook's words echoed in your head, his words sending a flutter through your chest. You couldn't help but grin. Maybe there was hope for you two after all.

The following day, you woke up to the sun streaming in through your curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. You stretched lazily, savoring the warmth of your bed, before reluctantly climbing out and heading to the bathroom to wash up.

Unconciously, you began to shut yourself out. You had spent the whole night awake, thoughts about the possibility of being with your best friend swirling around your head, preventing you from falling asleep.

As you brushed your teeth, you heard your phone buzz. It was a text from him.

'Good morning'

A smile tugged at your lips, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

'good morning'

'can we go out today? im craving pizza'

You bit your lip, considering the invitation. A part of you was eager to see him, but another part was worried that it might be awkward, especially after the scenarios you created in your head last night.

You ended up refusing to go out with him. And he started to get anxious. He thought he may have done something wrong. That you were actually angry for going on a date or that you no longer wanted him to be part of your life just because he went out with someone else.

Jungkook started panicking.

And so, he called the guys.

"I don't know, she's just not acting normal." he sighed.

"Did something happen the other night?" Hoseok asked, concerned.

"No, I don't think so. She didn't say anything to me,"

"So why is she mad at you?"

"I have no idea. I was hoping maybe you had an idea,"

"Did she say she was mad at you?"

"Not directly, but she didn't want to go out today,"

"Well, I'm not surprised. She's probably just tired,"

"Tired?"

"Yeah, from work and all that, she's probably exhausted. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Do you think so? You don't think she's mad at me?"

"I really don't think she is. She'll probably just want to rest for a few days, and then things will go back to normal."

Your attitude changed so suddenly. You kept on cancelling on him. It’s been weeks.

"You have to talk to her, man," Jimin said.

"What do I say? How do I bring it up? Do I just ask her why she's been avoiding me? What if she doesn't know what I'm talking about?"

"Then ask her. Don't overthink it. Just say it."

Jungkook sighed, frustrated. "You make it sound so easy,"

"Look, I'm not gonna lie to you. It's probably gonna be awkward as fuck, but you can't let it get in the way of your friendship. You've been friends for so long, and it's obviously important to both of you. If she really is mad at you, then you need to find out what's going on. But if she's not, then you need to clear the air and move on. Because otherwise, this is just gonna keep getting worse and worse for you."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just... worried, I guess."

"I know, but don't be. Everything’s fine. It’ll work out, especially if you let her know that you like her."

"What? Are you crazy? I can't just tell her that."

"Why not?"

"Because... what if she doesn't feel the same way?"

"So what if she doesn't? You'll never know unless you tell her. And if she does feel the same way, then you can finally stop being all sad and pathetic."

"You think she likes me?"

"Well, only she can tell you that, but you'll never know if you don't talk to her. So suck it up and go for it."

"Fine. I'll talk to her."

"Good."

"But... how do I tell her?"

"Just be honest. Tell her you've been worried that something is wrong, and you want to make sure everything is okay. Then let her know how you feel. But, be prepared for her reaction. If she doesn't feel the same way, it could make things weird. But you need to deal with it and move on."

That same day you were laying down in bed, scrolling through your phone. Reading over and over the lyrics of one particular song on the playlist.

"Is there a place for me? Is there a place for us? I can't tell you how much I love you, babe Open the door Open your heart Tell me how you're feeling, I miss you so bad I'm falling to pieces"

And just like that, your phone began vibrating, your heart beating rapidly as his name flashed across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey, are you free? Can we talk?"

"Uhm... sure, yeah. Now?"

"If it's okay, yes."

"Okay,"

"I'm coming up now."

"Wait, wha-..."

Jungkook was already at your door, knocking frantically. You opened it for him, your heart in your throat.

He stood before you, looking determined. His eyes were wide, his hair tousled, and he was out of breath, as if he had just run a marathon.

"Sorry, I was already on my way. I had to do it now. I have to say it, because otherwise, I won't have the courage to say it some other time,"

"Okay?"

He inhaled deeply, his eyes locked on yours.

"Y/N, I really, really like you. And I've been so confused and conflicted because I've always liked you, then I started thinking that maybe there was more. And then I realized there was. I really, really like you."

You swallowed hard, the words ringing in your ears.

"I-..."

"It's okay, I just wanted you to know,"

You shook your head, struggling to comprehend what he had just told you. "I'm sorry, I'm just..."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But I had to say it."

"So, does this mean... what are you saying exactly?"

Jungkook hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Y/N, I don't expect anything from you, and I don't want things to get weird. But I just had to tell you. I'm crazy about you."

You nodded slowly, processing his words. "uh. I-... uh."

"I know it's sudden, and I'm sorry. I just couldn't hold it in anymore. But I don't want anything to change, I promise. I'll just go, and we can forget this ever happened. We can go back to the way things were, I promise. I'm sorry,"

"Jungkook, stop apologizing. It's not a bad thing, I'm just... processing. I've never had anyone say they're crazy about me before," with your phone in your hand an idea immediately came to you.

"Can I show you something?" you asked him.

"What is it?"

You walked up to him, your phone in your hand. You handed him your device and let him see your screen. There it was, the infamous playlist.

Jungkook's doe eyes widened, a small gasp escaping his lips as he noticed. "What... is this...?"

"I went through your iPod when you left your hoodie last time," you told him with an embarrassed grin. "They’re the same songs you have on yours,"

"This is so embarrassing," he groaned, his cheeks red. "You... you went through my iPod?" Jungkook asked, now with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief that he wasn't angry about it. "I was curious about the music you listen to. And I found… this,”

He stared at the playlist, then back at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "So... does that mean you... already knew how I felt?" Jungkook asked, hope flickering in his eyes.

Your heart raced at his words, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling inside you. Could this really be happening? Could your long-standing friendship truly be blossoming into something more?

"Jungkook," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I like you too. More than just a friend."

"So what does this mean? That we are supposed to be together?"

"Maybe, or maybe not. It could just mean that you have great taste in music and I admire it,"

Jungkook's eyes widened with hope, a grin spreading across his face. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long, but I was afraid of ruining everything between us."

You smiled, your heart fluttering. "Me too, I’m sorry for making you worry these past few days,"

"Can I hug you?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook held onto you tightly, his arms snug around your waist. You rested your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes and inhaling his familiar scent.

After a few moments, he pulled away slightly, his hands still resting on your hips.

He looked at you with a mix of relief and uncertainty in his eyes. "So, I didn't ruin anything between us?" he murmured softly.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "You didn't ruin anything, Jungkook. If anything, you've made everything clearer."

His shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, a hint of a smile returning to his face. "I'm glad."

"I'm glad too," you began again, your voice steady but tinged with nervousness. "But I also want you to know that... I've been thinking a lot too."

Jungkook turned to face you fully, his expression a mix of anticipation and apprehension. "About...?"

"About us," you admitted softly, meeting his gaze. "About how much I enjoy spending time with you, about how much I admire you, and... how I've felt something more than just friendship for a while now."

His eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in them. "A while?”

You nodded, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Yes, Jungkook. A while. I've just been afraid to say anything because I didn't want to lose you in case you didn't felt the same way about me."

He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out tentatively. "Y/N... I wish I had known sooner. I've been struggling with these feelings, not knowing if you felt the same way."

"I'm sorry for not saying anything earlier," you murmured, your fingers brushing against his. "But I'm glad we're talking about it now."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "Me too. More than anything."

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of your shared emotions hanging in the air. Finally, Jungkook spoke again, his voice filled with determination.

"So... what do we do now?"

You chuckled softly, feeling a surge of affection for him. "I think we take it one step at a time. We've already taken a big step today."

He nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, you're right. I'm just... really happy right now."

"Me too," you said, squeezing his hand.

"I guess the only question now is... are we... together together?" he asked hesitantly.

You grinned, your heart pounding in your chest. "Only if you want us to be,"

"Yes, yes, yes. Of course, yes,"

"Then it's settled. We're together," you giggled.

Jungkook laughed, the sound sending a warm feeling through your chest.

Cut to 4 years in the future.

There you were at a dinner with friends and family. It had been four years since you got together, but it felt like an eternity. You both were so excited for each other, for your life from now on.

"Hey, you got a little something," he whispered, brushing away a strand of hair from your cheek.

You couldn't help but smile, his touch as tender as ever. "Thanks,"

"No problem," he smiled.

Then you could hear someone clinking a glass. "A few words from the fiancé!" Jin's voice reverberated through the dimly lit restaurant.

"Y-yeah, yeah," your boyfriend stuttered, clearing his throat and standing up. He was a nervous wreck, and it was adorable.

"Um, first, thank you all for being here. It really means a lot to us. We know how important it is to have your loved ones around you on a special day, and we're so grateful for everyone who's supported us. Second, a special thanks to my future father and mother-in-law. Thank you for always being there for us and for supporting our relationship. And, um, thanks to my own parents for, uh, also supporting us."

As the guests began to laugh, your boyfriend cleared his throat and continued, his gaze fixed on yours.

"But most importantly, I want to say thank you to my amazing girlfriend. Thank you for making every day better. Thank you for always being by my side and for loving me unconditionall—"

"We know that already! Entertain us or I won't pay the bill!" Jin's loud voice interrupted again.

You couldn't help but chuckle and the guests laughed again, amused.

Your fiancé smiled, clearly enjoying the teasing.

"Alright, alright," Jungkook cleared his throat before he continued, "actually, we agreed that we'd never tell anyone how we actually got together but I guess we're past that, right babe?"

"Oh no, don't!" You blushed, a little embarrassed.

"It's a funny story," he continued. "It's kind of a long one, but this girl right here thought that the best course of action was to make me a dating app profile before telling me that she was in love with me."

Everyone burst into laughter.

"I was dumb, okay?" you joked, earning more laughter from the guests.

"So, we ended up talking to some people on said dating app and went on a few dates, which were terrible—"

"Hey! It's not my fault that you agreed even though you were also in love with me!" — "Everyone, he had a playlist with my name filled with sentimental songs like the most lovesick boy on Earth!"

"But babe trust me, it's a great playlist, by the way," you added.

"And then we got drunk, and the truth was revealed."

"What?! No way," Hoseok laughed.

"We weren’t drunk, I’m kidding, I just told her that I had liked her since the beginning," he said. "We just made a disaster, and we were both scared shitless."

"But here we are," you added.

"So, yeah, thanks for coming everyone," your fiancé concluded, his voice breaking a little as he wrapped up his little speech.

You could see him trying to blink back tears as he sat back down next to you, and you gave his hand a squeeze.

"You did great," you whispered, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

"Thanks," he replied, his voice hoarse.

Your parents got up, taking the floor after him.

"Thank you, thank you," your mom said, a bit embarrassed.

"We’d like to share a few words as well. First, we'd like to thank everyone for coming. It's such a privilege to have all our family and friends here, and we're so thankful for your support. And we're especially grateful for our beautiful daughter and our soon-to-be son-in-law. We are so proud of both of you, and we know you'll have a long and happy life together."

"Thanks," you managed to say, overcome with emotion.

"So, now, we'd like to present the couple with a little something. It's just a small token of our love for them," your mother added, signaling for someone to come forward.

Jimin, Hoseok, and Tae stood up from the table and approached the stage, each of them holding a framed collage.

"Here, you can pass these out," your mother said, handing each of the guests copies of the photos.

You and your fiancé were stunned as the three guys presented the photos to you.

The photos were a collage of different memories: you and him during his graduation, another one from yours, a candid shot of him cooking for you, a photo of the two of you smiling in front of the sunset, and a picture of him holding your hand while you were asleep.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the beautiful photos, each one capturing a special moment in your relationship. The love and happiness radiating from the images made your heart feel full to the brim. You glanced at Jungkook, whose eyes were also glistening with unshed tears, and you reached for his hand, holding it tightly.

"Thank you so much," you managed to say, your voice choked with emotion. "These are... perfect."

"I have a gift for you too," you told him, reaching under the table. You brought out a box wrapped in bright pink paper and a bow.

He looked at you with surprise, his eyes shining with curiosity as he took the box from your hands. Slowly unwrapping it, his mouth fell open in astonishment when he saw what was inside. Nestled within the box was a beautifully crafted watch, the silver band gleaming under the soft light of the restaurant.

"Oh wow," he breathed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's... it's incredible."

"It's engraved," you whispered, pointing to the back of the watch where a message was etched. His eyes widened as he read the words: 'Forever yours, Y/N.'

"I was hoping you'd wear it to the wedding," you said, grinning. "But don't cry, you'll make me cry!" you exclaimed.

"I'm not crying, I just..." he trailed off, sniffling.

"I love it," Jungkook finally managed to say, his voice filled with emotion. He stood up abruptly and pulled you into a tight hug, “I love you.”

As you both separated, there was a collective 'aww' from the guests, making you both blush.

The rest of the evening continued with laughter and joy, surrounded by the love of friends and family. People danced, sang, and shared stories late into the night. It was a celebration of love and new beginnings.

As the night winded down and guests started to leave, you found yourselves standing alone in the dimly lit space. Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close.

"Thank you for everything today," you said sincerely, looking into his big brown eyes.

"Thank you for being mine," he replied softly, feeling overwhelmed with happiness.

"I wouldn't want to be anyone else's," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Jungkook cupped your face in his hands and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of the deepest affection you’ve ever felt.

[soxcietyy]

Hello, I wanted to ask you (if you are not busy at university) a story where Yuuta is jealous because you have been talking to Itadori and Megumi and he asks you to go to his room and he fucks you hard.

(It's not my native language because I don't know if it's right)

Jealousy

typed this in the library when i should of been studying.

Another exhausting day at school has you dragging your feet across campus. You couldn’t walk anymore from his far your classes were from each other. Yuuta on the other hand looked like it was no problem for him. He happily walked next to you as he held your hand, pulling you along with him. You had no idea how he wasn’t burnt out yet, he can’t be human. Especially during finals.

You could hear your name be called out from a distance as you thought about how much you hated school. Turning your attention around you could see Yuji waving at you to grab your attention. Next to him was his best friend Megumi. Putting a halt to your movement you feel as Yuta continues to pull you along.

"Hey, the guys are here! Let’s see what they want." You say as you pull him back.

You could hear as he heavily breaths through his nose. He looked bothered that someone had stopped your little stroll. He’d do this often where he would try to avoid interactions with people when he was with you.

As the boys approached you also walked closer to them.

You could feel how Yuuta stared at you from behind. Waiting for a conversation that hasn’t even started to be over.

"Hey y/n! Yuuta!" Yuji says as he waved once again. The boys and Yuuta were roommates and saw each other everyday. You on the other hand didn’t see them too often. " We’re going to go out and eat. You should come y/n! It’s been so long since we’ve eaten out and I don’t think I can handle an empty stomach any longer." Itadori says as he holds his stomach.

Megumi shakes his head knowing it was going to be a long day.

He was right about it being a while. The classes you guys have recently been taking were hard and time consuming. You’ve been going to school, work, doing homework, and studying every day. Maybe it was time for a little well deserved break. Plus hanging out with Yuji was always fun.

Turning back to look at Yuuta for approval, who had his hands in his pockets and a stoic face. He didn’t like the idea from the looks of it. "Common Yu! It will be fun, like old times!" You say as you drag him into the circle.

He closes his eyes for a moment with his arms now crossed. "Fine." He finally spoke out.

"Yay! So it’s set! Shall we go now!?" You say jumping up and down.

Everyone eventually agreed to the restaurant and headed that way. As you guys walked to the place you felt Yuuta pull you closer to him. His face leaning down to your ear.

"Better be as joyful as you are now later tonight." Yuuta says as he caressed your shoulder.

Shivers went down your spine knowing what was coming later on.

At the restaurant you guys caught up with each other. Talking about school, work, love and life in general. It was a really wonderful conversation you guys were having. Yuuta on the other than was ready to go the second you guys got there. The two of you sat next to each other at a 4 person table. He would squeeze your thigh signaling you that it was fine. You simply ignored him though.

"Oh y/n I noticed you’ve changed your style." Yuji says as he takes a sip out of his drink.

You couldn’t help but blush because he had noticed something like that. It had taken Yuuta a few days to catch into your style change. As the both of you spoke about clothes you could see Yuuta’s eye twitch from the corner of your eye. His leg bouncing up and down as he grew more impatient.

"Yuuta senpai we’re actually thinking of going to the gym later to work out our upper body. Do you think you could give us some advice?" Megumi asks.

Yuuta dragged his eyes in between both of the guys. Thinking about what his answer should be. "Yea I’m down for that." Yuuta crosses his arms. "Now that I think about it I also told Y/n I was going to help her with something. If we go do it now then I can definitely go over your work out routines." Yu uta cocks his head.

"Oh absolutely! We’ll meet you at the gym we might stop at the dorm to pick something up though!" Yuji exclaims.

That’s how Yuuta managed to get you guys out of that lunch outting. He was really quiet on your walk back to his dorm. His heavy arm weighing your shoulder down as he rested it on you. The second you guys got into his room he scanned the area. Making sure it was just the two of you. When he realized it was safe he pulled you into his embrace. Hands running down your back all the way to the waistband of your bottoms. While his hands were occupied he also put his tongue to work. Shoving it inside your mouth unexpectedly. He explored your mouth roughly as he got more hands with you. Putting his hand under your shirt and cupping one of your brest. Fondling the soft flesh aggressively.

You groan as he pulls your bottoms down. Pushing you over his desk that had many pencil is and papers scattered on it. Infront if you was a mirror that reflected his unhappy mood. He spread your legs with your knee and pushed you down so you could arch your back infront of him.

"You were enjoying your time hm? Having the attention of so many boys on you. You are loving it, I could see it on your face." Yuuta ran his fingers through your hair.

"Yuuta they’re our friends, you know I would never see it like tha-hmp!" The sudden noice escapes your lips as you feel him shove himself inside of you without preparation.

You squeeze the edges if the desk as he slammed into you. Making you go forward and making you stand on your tipi toes. Grabbing a fistful of hair he brought you closer to his mouth.

"You rather have someone else’s attention right?" He moved the mirror so it could reflect the door. "Well let’s see how much of their attention you want if they walk through that door." He says as he lets go and starts pounding you.

"Yuuta! Ngh- your over reacting!" You say trying your best to making him slow down. "You wouldn't possibly be serious about letting them see me like this!" you say biting your lip to create less noise.

you need to be on high alert, listening to everything going on outside so you could know wen they where coming. Yuuta on the other hand didn't care. You could hear him groan and breath heavily every time he pulled back and slammed into you.

As you looked in the mirror you could see his tired eyes looking at you, refusing to look away for a second. Pulling your shirt up with a quick hard tug your breast are exposed to the air. With no second thoughts he squeezed your nipples causing you to let out a cry.

"its cute watching your sad attempts on keeping quiet." he smiles as he kisses the nape of your neck.

Moving his hands onto your hips he lift you up a bit with no issue. Then he slams into you once causing you to gasp. He was hitting such a deep part of you that you never knew he could reach. your hands fly to your mouth as he uses you as his personal cock sleeve.

your feet where no longer on the floor but you held onto the desk for support. You could hear him mumbling under his breath but you couldn’t decipher what he was saying from how foggy your mind was.

"Please, please, i'm so sorry. Just stop before you they come in here." You turn to look at him with teary eyes.

Yuta rasies his brows and stands there in thought for a second. Trying to determine if he was going to listen to you.

"Fine," Yuuta smiles

you sigh in relief.

"After I finish of course." Yuuta holds a strong grip on your hips so you could stop moving around.

"yuut- mph!" you try to stop him but was cut of by the sudden penetration. Sliding inside and out in a painfully slow pace. Obviously he was taking his time to finish so your friends wouldn’t run into you in this situation.

You couldn't help but end a glare onto his way.

"alright, alright, don't get an attitude with me now. I'll give you what you want.

He buries his face by the crook of your neck and wraps his arms around you. shoving himself as deep as he could until you let out small whimpers. After adjusting himself well he began to rail you. whispering small little praises into your ear as you took him incredibly well.

[domm1etae]

sent to tempt me - chapter one

chapter one: the first glimpse

chapter summary: Yunho arrives at his new dorm, hoping for peace and quiet, but his expectations are shattered when he meets his unexpected and enigmatic roommate

pairing: yunho x mingi

genre: smut (not yet but there will be eventually), angst, fluff, romance, m/m, non!idol!ateez, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, drama, coming of age, collage, religion

rating: 18+ (for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually) | mdni

word count: 2.2k

warnings under

collage, roommates, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, bad boy mingi and religious church good boy yunho same-sex attraction, m/m, teasing, dark themes, homophobia, self discovery, pet names, strangers to lovers, religion and religious topics, aaaand more will be added soon hehehe

 next chapter | AO3 | this fics masterlist

author's note: my first series, yaaaay! I’m so excited about this, and I hope you’ll like it. let me know how you feel about the first chapter in the comments. also, should I make a tag list for this?

Yunho grew up in a house where silence spoke louder than words. Yunho grew up in a house where everything had its place.

Every Sunday morning, he woke up to the scent of his mom’s freshly brewed coffee and the sound of his dad humming hymns in the kitchen. Breakfast was always ready by 8:00 a.m. sharp, the same time they left for church.

His family wasn’t unkind; they loved each other in the way a well-rehearsed choir loves its conductor: faithfully, dutifully, but not too loudly. The Jeongs didn’t argue or slam doors. They lived in neat, quiet harmony, with Bible verses framed on the walls and a family portrait taken at the church picnic hanging above the mantel.

Yunho always knew his role in this symphony of order. He was the son they prayed for, the one who didn’t talk back or skip curfews. At 13, he was the boy who stayed late after services to help clean up, stacking chairs and sweeping floors while other kids hung out in parking lots blasting music. He was the one teachers praised, neighbors admired, and his parents held up as an example, they always smiled proudly, calling him “their angel.”

And Yunho liked being good.

At least, he thought he did. Until the dreams started.

Dreams that left him waking up in a panic, drenched in sweat, begging God for forgiveness before he even got out of bed. Dreams that weren’t about the soft curves of a girl’s body, like he knew they were supposed to be, but about sharp jawlines, strong hands, and broad shoulders.

It wasn’t just the dreams. It was the way he couldn’t stop looking. At first, it was small things—admiring how his classmate’s uniform shirt stretched across his chest during gym class or wondering why he felt so warm when he saw certain smiles. He convinced himself it was normal. Just admiration, nothing more. But it didn’t stay fleeting.

He prayed for hours at night, whispering to God to make it go away. “Please, Lord,” he’d say, clutching the cross on his bedside table until his hands hurt. “Don’t let me feel like this.” But the thoughts didn’t stop.

He never told anyone. Not his friends, not his parents, not even the priest during confession.

He thought about telling Father Lee once. After Sunday Mass, he lingered outside the confessional, hands trembling, heart racing. But when he finally stepped inside, knees pressing into the wooden kneeler, the words froze in his throat.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” he managed, his voice barely audible.

The priest’s calm, steady reply came through the lattice screen. “What troubles you, my child?”

Yunho’s hands gripped the edge of the pew until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to say it. He wanted to confess. But the weight of it, the shame—it was too much.

Instead, he mumbled something about talking back to his parents and skipped dinner that night, too sick with guilt to eat.

Books became his escape.

Yunho discovered literature the way some kids discover a secret hideout: by accident, but it quickly became his sanctuary. He wasn’t one to seek it out; books, like distant cousins, were something that didn’t seem to fit in his world. But on a lazy summer afternoon, when his parents were busy with their own lives, Yunho wandered into his father’s study. The room smelled of old wood and dust, filled with shelves of books that always seemed too formal to touch, too thick to bother with.

It was there, buried under a stack of untouched textbooks, that he found an old copy of The Great Gatsby. The cover was faded, the corners of the pages slightly curled, but something about it called to him. There was no reason for Yunho to pick it up—he wasn’t interested in the world of the Roaring Twenties, the glamor or the excess—but something about the worn edges, the ink fading in places like a secret waiting to be unraveled, made him curious.

He sat down on the living room floor, cradling the book in his hands, the cover smooth under his fingertips. When he opened the first page, it was as if the world had shifted. The words seemed to leap off the page, weaving a narrative that was both foreign and familiar. He got lost in it: the parties, the glamour, the yearning, the tragedy. The way Jay Gatsby’s life felt so full of promise, yet so hollow at the same time.

There was something about the way words could paint entire worlds, how they could make you feel things so vividly that it almost hurt. With every turn of the page, Yunho found himself sinking deeper into Gatsby’s world, a world that was both dazzling and dark, where no one was who they appeared to be. For the first time, Yunho could relate to the idea of masks—of playing a part and feeling alone, no matter how many people surrounded you. It was as if the book had taken something deep inside of him and pulled it into the light.

For Yunho, books weren’t just stories; they were freedom.

They were a bridge to a place where no one judged him, where no one expected him to be perfect. In the pages of The Great Gatsby, there was no family name to live up to, no prayers to recite, no duty to be a certain kind of son. There was just the raw, beautiful act of existing without judgment. The characters, flawed and human, didn’t try to pretend they were anything other than what they were. They loved, they hurt, they sought something more—but they were always, in some way, authentic.

Books gave Yunho a place to escape the life he had to lead—one that demanded perfection, one that demanded silence when all he wanted was to shout. Every character, whether they were noble or tragic, flawed or redeemed, felt real to him in ways his real life didn’t. He could be whoever he wanted to be when he opened a book. He could think things that scared him, feel things that frightened him, all in the comfort of knowing it wasn’t real.

He read everything he could get his hands on—Shakespeare, Frost, Brontë. Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Hamlet—the classics that made him feel like he was standing on the edge of something monumental. He fell in love with the way poetry could turn pain into something beautiful, the way prose could make even the simplest moments feel profound. Each word he read felt like an invitation to a world he was never allowed to explore in real life.

There was power in poetry. The kind of power that made you feel seen even when you weren’t speaking. A line from a poem could echo in his chest like a secret whispered into his ear—how the pain in the words felt like his own pain, and yet it was shared, universal. He began scribbling lines in the margins of his notebooks, quoting his favorite poets, trying to capture something of the way they made him feel. But his words never seemed enough. His words never seemed to touch the depth of the feeling, the longing he couldn’t explain.

In books, there was no shame. No guilt. Just characters and their stories, raw and human. No one to look at him with pity in their eyes, no one to ask questions he couldn’t answer. He was free in a way that no one ever told him he could be.

When the acceptance letter from the University of Seoul arrived, Yunho saw it as a sign.

A fresh start.

A chance to focus on his studies, to leave behind the heavy silence of his house, the suffocating expectations of his family. To be free, not just in his mind but in the world. He dreamed of quiet nights in a tidy dorm room, stacks of books surrounding him, the hum of a desk lamp keeping him company as he read well into the night. He imagined himself walking the leafy campus, the world sprawling before him—endless possibilities, untouched and waiting. He imagined being the kind of student who got lost in lectures, who lost track of time in libraries, who got so caught up in books and ideas that the rest of the world felt far away.

He imagined a life where he didn’t have to hide who he was. Where his thoughts didn’t feel like a burden. He could be a literature major, someone who was known for his intelligence, for his passion for the written word, without anyone ever asking about the things he kept hidden. No one would ever know about the turmoil inside him, the yearning that crept up every time he thought about something or someone in a way that didn’t feel right.

The thought of a fresh start was everything he’d dreamed of. It was the chance to begin again, to bury his fears in books, to embrace his studies without the guilt.

But when he stepped into his new dorm, those dreams started to crack.

The first thing Yunho noticed about the dorm was the smell.

It wasn’t bad—just different. A faint mix of cleaning solution and something else he couldn’t quite place, something organic, maybe even a little musky, like a place that had been lived in. It hit him instantly, a sharp contrast to the scent of the fresh air outside. As he stepped inside, the small living room greeted him with beige walls, mismatched furniture—an old, faded gray couch with a wobbly coffee table in front of it, and a tiny kitchenette tucked into the corner like an afterthought. The kind of space that made you think the people who built it were more concerned with efficiency than comfort.

There were two doors leading to separate bedrooms, just like the housing brochure promised, and a narrow hallway that led to a cramped bathroom. It was basic, functional, nothing fancy.

Yunho let out a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. It was quiet—blissfully, eerily quiet. The kind of quiet his mom had warned him about, the kind he’d been desperate for since they’d first dropped him off at the university.

“Call us when you get there, alright? And eat well! Are you sure you’re not forgetting anything? Don’t forget your vitamins—oh, and make sure you pack extra socks!” His mom’s voice had been a constant hum in the back of his mind the entire journey. She was always so concerned, so fixated on the little things.

His dad, quieter but just as insistent, had kept reminding him to stay focused on his studies and “be a good boy.” It wasn’t that they didn’t trust him, but they’d never really let him out of their sight long enough to be sure he could take care of himself. So, as Yunho unloaded his suitcase into his new dorm room, his parents’ voices still echoed in his head. “Eat well,” “Take care of yourself,” “Stay safe.” They said it as if every part of his life depended on their supervision.

But now, as he stood there alone in his new room, he felt a little freer than he expected. Sure, the place wasn’t what he’d dreamed of, but it was his. No hovering, no expectations. It felt… private. Safe.

He dropped his suitcase by the door and took a moment to look around. For a second, the room felt empty—like it was waiting to be filled with something, or someone. Yunho had imagined this moment a thousand times in his head, but it didn’t match what he had expected. He’d pictured coming here to study, to read in peace, to finally get a break from the pressure of his family and the silent, constant burden of expectations that never seemed to ease. Here, he thought, would be his fresh start.

Then he saw it.

A black leather jacket draped over the couch.

It looked expensive, the kind of thing Yunho had only seen in movies or on mannequins in department stores. The leather was soft and worn, creased in places where it had clearly been lived in. The silver zippers glinted faintly under the fluorescent lights, and as Yunho stepped closer, the scent of cologne hit him—sharp, musky, and a little too out of place in a room this plain.

Yunho frowned. His roommate must have arrived already.

Curious, he stepped closer and reached out, fingers brushing against the cool material. It felt smooth under his touch, almost like the jacket had been designed to be a piece of armor—something protective, something that spoke of confidence and mystery. A strange thought flickered in his mind: Who was this person?

He had barely processed the thought when he heard a voice, smooth and low, slicing through the silence.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have left it there.”

Yunho froze, his breath catching in his throat, as the sound of another voice rippled through him.

 next chapter | AO3 | this fics masterlist

[biibini]

modern!mizu headcannons

a/n: my brain has been nothing but her so it’s ab time i write ab her. i’ve read a bunch of modern!mizu headcannons ab her but i need more !! it becomes a drabble at the end but my girl deserves peace and happiness pls

i’ve read a lot of hc w her in uni so i’ll prob stick to the similar things ive read + more

modern!mizu would def be in university studying mechanical engineering

ik this is specific but pls hear me out it fits bc shes a smartie & her adopted dad (master eiji) was a very technical person when she was growing up

she’s also in uni due to an engineering scholarship

modern!mizu is usually at the gym if it wasn’t for classes and fixing her bike

yes she has a motorcycle. i stand by this hc and many others who share similar ideas.

prob a kawasaki ninja but decked out w her own alternations

modern!mizu is a gym rat but is too stubborn to admit it, esp after taigen pointed it out once

likes to go in the early morning for the peace and quiet

she typically goes in for cardio and weights to keep her healthy and in shape but has dabbled in calisthenics before

taigen used to fence w her before he got into other sports such as basketball

(random thought but he just looks like he would play basketball player)

modern!mizu is very smart… but has a slight huge problem with procrastination

akemi has tried many studying techniques with mizu but it ends up her procrastinating and finishing alone

she prefers studying alone in the library or at her desk, until you came along

(ill elaborate on mizu & reader another time)

modern!mizu cannot cook for shit i’m sorry

she can kinda chef it up but it’s taken her a while she nearly burnt the kitchen and has repeatedly turned on the fire alarm and now ringo has ptsd

usually ringo will cook something or help her cook

speaking of ringo

her and ringo are roommates in off-campus housing 2 bed 2 bath

at first, dad eiji was a bit hesitant since he was helping mizu move in but warmed up to ringo once he cooked them dinner (his mom’s soba recipe)

mizu swears she saw a tear roll down her dad’s cheek that day

modern!mizu usually dresses more casually and comfy but still likes her dark blues

not to self indulge but she would like the baggy acubi look that she can move in

(i know this is so inaccurate of others’ headcannons but pls the baggy button up + slingbag combo would go crazy)

ik she got a uniqlo drawstring sling bag

or just any sporty crossbody sling bag

hear me out pls

it’s easier to get on and balance on her motorcycle with comfy clothes and a secure bag

on mizu’s and ringo’s move-in “anniversary” (as ringo like to call it), he got her a lil keychain for her bag with a jingle on it as a joke to her initial move-in gift to him: a bell for being so silent

modern!mizu usually keeps to herself and her friends

after her ex bf m*k*o (yes im censoring his name he doesnt deserve to be typed out) , she’s very cautious of who to trust

thankfully, ringo, akemi, and taigan (as much of an ass as he is) has taught her to open up and be okay with who she is

but there are days when she prefers to be alone and sticking to her own business in peace and quiet

headphones on locked in 🎧

modern!mizu likes to wind down before bed with some chamomile or lavender tea

her temper used to control her feelings, especially when she was much younger

having a small routine at night keeps her calm & well rested

eiji initially started this routine after their long days of welding in the backyard

she can’t cook but give her a teapot and tea leaves, she will make it right

(ok im done imagining her life lets get to the good stuff)

modern!mizu loves little touches

whether it’s holding u by ur hand or shoulder or waist, her hand will always be there

her main love language is physical touch

the more comfortable she gets with u, the longer she’ll leave her hand on u

whenever u and her are out at a party or gathering, u implemented the secret squeeze if either one of u wants to get out

u haven’t used it before but mizu did a few times

it was when she just wanted to be closer to u in the comfort of her own bed

modern!mizu enjoys shopping w u

she kind of knows her style: comfy and light

but she never explored how to pair clothes together until u showed her some basic pairing

when she first met akemi, she was uncomfortable with more feminine styles and shopping for going-out tops with her

it mainly stems from just not knowing a lot of trends and seeing a wide range of items

she got accustomed the items but seeing u have fun trying new tops

totally not sneaking into the changing room and stealing a few kisses many kisses

modern!mizu also enjoys holding ur things for u

she won’t say it explicitly but she is silently expressive ab it

u need someone to hold ur drink while u fix ur shoes? she got it. need someone to hold ur bag while u go to the bathroom? she got it.

need someone to get a glass of water even though ur all comfy in bed? she will get it (for a price aka some extra cuddles & kisses)

she’s also the type of put ur hand behind ur back when ur in a crowd

ok thats all for now but hope u enjoyed ♡

[3-2-whump]

Earning Your Keep, Part 2 

<prev next>

Hi everyone, here we are, squeezing in a chapter about the boy before OC week. Thank you to my beta readers @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for giving this a look and helping it become the chapter it is today!

TW/CW: not really any that I could think of? I mean, there are some misunderstandings and some misconceptions due to whump aftermath/recovery stuff, but nothing too terribly triggering, I think.

When he got home, Cade did a little spin in the middle of the living room with his arms outstretched and a relieved smile on his face. “I know I don’t appreciate you two enough, but thank you! It’s just so much nicer in here when it’s clean,” he sighed happily.

“You’re welcome, and thanks for doing the dishes. I was dreading coming home to scrub that mountain of dishes all day, but now it’s awesome that I can just start cooking,” Eric agreed.

It wasn’t like he, Vik, and Cade had lived in squalor before, but, as three working professionals who did not have much personal time, it was a challenge to keep the house clean. Ever since Khaled came along though, everyone had been stepping up their game: the dishes were always washed and put away, the carpet was two shades lighter than anyone remembered it being, the bathroom counters and mirrors sparkled, and their laundry would never have time to accumulate in the hamper/on the floor before being whisked away to the basement washer and dryer. And sure, it was a little weird, how Vik and/or Cade would fold Eric’s clean clothes and pile them neatly at the foot of his bed, which was now made, but who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? Hell, one of the guys dusted off his anime figurines, a project Eric had been putting off for months!

“I’m honestly impressed how well you’re both doing at keeping things tidy,” Vik congratulated. Cade staggered mid-spin as his socks lost friction with the wooden floor. Vik rushed to catch him just in time. “Although, I do think the floor polish is a bit much, as was the bleach on the shower tiles,” he added.

“Wasn’t me who bleached the bathroom,” Cade said, reorienting himself from Vik’s grasp. “You know I can’t stand harsh chemical smells!”

“Wasn’t me either,” Eric said, brow furrowing in confusion. “And I didn’t polish the floors.” Come to think of it… Eric frowned slightly. “Which one of you did the dishes anyway?”

Cade and Vikash both looked at each other, before staring back at Eric in quiet confusion.

“Neither of you?” Eric asked, as something close to guilt began to knot inside of him.

“Well, no…” Vikash admitted. “And I’m guessing now that neither of you reorganized my bookshelf.”

Cade shook his head. “And I know neither of you would’ve wiped my babies’ glass crystal clear,” he said, referring to his angelfish tank in his room.

“Then…”

“…who…”

“…did all this?”

They all came to the same conclusion around the same time. Their unseen help around the house was asleep, taking a long nap after a follow-up appointment at Joyous Springs.

“God damn it, Khaled,” Vik groaned.

“Ohhhhhhh,” Cade said at the same time, light brown eyes widening.

“Well, he is the only one amongst us without money, a job, or any way of securing either anytime soon,” Eric sighed, shaking his head. “It makes the most sense. I mean, what on earth does he do all day, besides going to the gym with Vik or going to and from therapy with me?”

Cade hummed thoughtfully. “I never thought to ask,” he answered truthfully. “Even when I do have the time to check in on him, I usually just send him a ‘how you doing/have you eaten yet?’ text and been done with it.”

Vik rolled his eyes. “We’ve been letting him clean our house for free for nearly a month now?”

“He’s been doing a hell of a good job of it,” Cade muttered.

Eric could also acknowledge it was nice to have their newest roommate help them out in some capacity. However, it also felt as if he were taking advantage of Khaled, and it just didn’t sit well with him. “Let me talk to him, tomorrow, when I’m off work,” Eric proposed. “I’ll clear up any misunderstandings he may carry.”

And that’s what Eric did, the next day, loitering around the kitchen as Khaled scrubbed away at the stove with a disused kitchen sponge.

 “Shouldn’t you be recording your Twitch stream right now?” Khaled asked.

“It can wait, and besides, I thought you might appreciate the company!” Eric answered. He squatted next to the cupboard under the sink and retrieved another pair of pink rubber gloves. “Now, what can I help with?”

Khaled looked up from where he was scrubbing. He blinked owlishly at him as if Eric had grown two heads. “Oh, um, it’s okay, I can do it on my own,” he murmured.

Eric slid next to Khaled as he snapped on the gloves. “It’ll go much faster if there is two of us, and the quicker we finish, the sooner you and I can get back to the stuff we want to do,” he said.

“But, this is what I want to do,” Khaled insisted. He looked down at his hands, avoiding Eric’s gaze as he scrubbed the same spot over and over. “You can go back to your game if you want, I don’t want to keep you from it,” he murmured.

“So, you want to scour the stovetop?”

Khaled nodded, though it wasn’t very convincing.

Eric pursed his lips, furrowing his brows in thought. “Thing is, I don’t believe you, dude. Nobody truly wants to scrub the stovetop, or vacuum the stairs, or dust each and every one of their roommate’s collectible figurines. So, tell me,” he implored, “why are you really cleaning our house?”

Khaled stopped scrubbing. He hung his head and drew in a shaky breath. The sponge in his grip strained under the slight rubbery creaking of his gloved fingers.

“Because I want to repay you, prove my worth to you,” he finally admitted.

Eric exhaled out his nose as he shook his head. Called it, he thought. Having his suspicions confirmed didn’t feel any better. “Oh, Khaled, no! Repay us?” Wait, no, more importantly… “Prove your worth to us?” Eric repeated. He wanted to slap whoever made Khaled feel like his worth was tied to what he could do for other people. “You don’t have to repay us, or ‘prove your worth,’ or whatever it is you think you’re doing, cleaning our house top to bottom,” Eric explained. “We certainly won’t stop you if that’s what you want to do, and I’ll be the first to admit your efforts have been greatly appreciated by all of us.” Khaled smiled shyly at the praise. Eric continued. “But don’t do it to ‘earn your keep.’ We would still keep you around even if you stopped doing it. You’re here because we want you to be here, don’t you see?”

Khaled’s smile dropped. “I-I don’t understand.” He wrung the sponge between his fingers. “Why are you guys being so nice to me if I can’t give you something in return?”

Forget slaps; Eric wanted to strangle whoever messed Khaled up this badly. However, anger towards those faceless entities wouldn’t help him right now. “Cause it’s the right thing to do? Cause we’re nice people? Cause we believe you can pick your life back up and live free like the rest of us? Take your pick,” Eric chuckled, giving him an encouraging nudge. “Let’s take a break, okay?” He gently pried the sponge from Khaled’s fingers and set it aside. He peeled off his gloves, smiling as Khaled mirrored his actions. “There’s a new co-op I’d like to try, and I need a player two!” Khaled got the hint.

When Vik and Cade came home that day, they were surprised to find the stove half-scrubbed and unwashed dishes in the sink. From the thin ceiling leading upstairs they could hear Eric’s Twitch stream ending.

“Thanks for tuning in everyone, this has been Light Moon–”

“And Bakhsh-Boy,” Khaled chimed in.

“–let us know if you want to see more collabs like this in the future, but until then, have a good night!”

Le Tag List (if you want to be added or subtracted, no problem!): @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire @phoenixpromptsandstuff @scumashling @borp0 @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @arobear @whumpty-dumpty-doo @hellodecisionparalysis

[bubooo]

↬ rock candy

prev | 4↬ lost without you | next

✧ rocking facts :

yn and noya just need a little time apart,,,

since yn spends almost every sunday with the bros™️ noya will usually have a solo practice for a good chunk of the day and he usually wraps up by the time yn is getting home so they can have a little movie night to wind down and just chill together

this is one of yn and noya’s few serious fights in their years of friendship, they have rarely had arguments that have ended in not speaking for days like this one has

without fault yn’s brothers (and rin since he came into the picture in high school) have been there for her through everything and she’s extremely comforted by the fact that no matter what she can fall back on them to support her, just as she will always do for them

of course she’s also so thankful to have iwa as a friend as well, since he’s pretty levelheaded and is pretty damn good at seeing things from a different perspective, plus he does a great job of knocking sense into people

the texts to the miya gc took place RIGHT after yn and noya’s texts so noya is still at the gym at that point

he was planning on maybe talking to yn when he got home but she was not there which really only hurt more - he found out she went to atsumu’s from iwa

yn had to very carefully crawl out of a cuddle pile (aka all three boys piling on top of her) so she could go out onto atsumu’s balcony to call iwa

they ended up talking for a good two hours before yn very sternly told iwa to go to sleep since she knew he had practice in the morning

btw if it’s not obvious the tweet iwa was referring to was the “i fucked up” tweet from yn’s priv that was in the last chapter 🫡🫡🫡

even after yn comes back to the apartment the next day she and noya don’t speak to each other because neither one can figure out how to even start approaching the situation - thus lots of avoidance and lots of awkwardness for the other roommates (rip)

↬ a/n : really short part i’m sorry 😞 but the next part should probably make up for it 🔥 i’ll be honest i’m not even sure i like this part but i’ve already started writing the next part so it would be too much to redo so WE MARCH 🗣️🗣️🗣️

# taglist : @eujoana89 @loveelylacey @walllflowerrrsss @le000xxgrd @punkhazardlaw @csbnova @jaynawayna @hyenagoated @lvtilzs @nbcvs @nyxlai @kazunish @dawnisatotalqueen @piapiaweee3 @kuroosmikasavolleyball (send an ask to be added !! for my sanity LMAO)