#keep wondering if i did the right thing :|

[syluss-littlecrow]

release

<Caleb x fem!reader>

where both you and Caleb end up doing more than butt heads about his given curfew for you.

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, mutual pinning, mutual obsession & possession, jealous!Caleb breeding kink, multiple orgasms, a lot of cum..., perverted!MC, friends to lovers?, squirting, unprotected sex, morning sex, pure Caleb brain rot, it gets pretty nasty

a/n: Caleb, Caleb, CALEB XIA YIZHOU 😭😭 the way I've been giggling over Caleb while watching his story and going back to my home screen with Sylus looking at me with his arms crossed.... Anyway, enjoy this Caleb brain rot 🥹🩷 I'll do one with Caleb's military air force uniform when I can 😔🫡

I JUST SAW THE NEW BANNER DROP IM NOT OK IF ANYONES WONDERING.

w/c: 3.5K

Effortless. That is what Caleb feels like when his affections come to you. It bubbles and boils over when he thinks he's able to put a lid over it, and it overflows instead. It leaves him so defenseless. Yet, he can't seem to stop. It's the only thing that keeps him going in this hell. 

The only thing he feels is the metallic necklace barely weighing on his chest. It almost feels like you're here with him. 

And if you are, he wants to keep you here with him. Forever.

His eyes slowly open. His eyes focus on the hologram clock hovering at the side. 

You're supposed to be back already. 

Caleb contemplated on driving out to find you since he has your location pinging on his phone.

Since when did you have that many friends in Skyhaven? Why doesn't he know about them?

He checks the messages he's sent you, all unread. 

Caleb has to remind himself to stop clenching his jaw and biting his tongue. 

His stare towards the door grows anxious by the minute. Then he strengthens his resolve and marches towards the door, ready to leave and look for you. 

The second he pulls down the door handle, the jingle of the door unlocking from the outside sounds and the door swings open, making you and Caleb jump when he catches you in his arms from bumping into each other.

“Caleb!” You squeal, flustered at the way you completely ran into him. His warmth is radiating over to your skin. “Are you okay? Where were you gonna go?”

You watch a small pout form on his lips. He truly looks like a puppy when he does that, you can't help but think. 

“Look for you”, he curtly replies, making sure you've regained your balance before he releases your arms.

You straighten your posture, and sheepishly touch the nape of your neck, immediately avoiding his gaze. 

“Ah, right. Well, I got carried away with chatting with my friends and all…” 

Caleb crosses his arms. His pout turns into a frown, and his eyebrows are scrunched. 

Shit. He looks mad.

You inch closer to him, your fingers grazing over his knuckles. 

“I'm sorry, Caleb. Don't be mad okay? I'm home now, safe and sound, in the flesh, aren't I?”

Caleb breathes steadily, keeping his expression the same, but when you take his palm and nuzzle your cheek against it, Caleb feels the anxiety and frustration dissolve. He wants to reprimand you about the curfew, and why he implemented it in the first place. If you’ve stayed missing for a second longer, he would have completely lost it. But the moment his palm nearly touches your lips, it all dissipates, as if it never existed. 

Caleb exhales a sigh of defeat, letting it go just this time, alongside the countless times he did. 

“Go shower. I left the heater on for you.” 

You respond with a cheeky smile that makes something in Caleb’s chest bloom, and he lets you go, watching you disappear into your room. 

Caleb hears a knock on his door. He walks over and opens it, watching you coming into view. 

“Is there something you need, pipsqueak?”

You squeeze through the crack of the partially opened door and occupy his bed. 

“I'm just bored.”

Even though Caleb cocks his eyebrow, he still sprouts his smile, walking over to join you on his bed.

“Not because you're trying to make it up to me for coming back past curfew?”

Shit. 

Your smile playfully drops to a pout. “I got carried away yapping with my friends. You know I didn't mean to…” 

Caleb crosses his arms again.

“I could tell. My messages were all left unread.”

You curl your fingers to your lips when you realise you've been caught.

Caleb seems upset but you still see the softness beneath. 

He sighs. 

“I'm doing this for your own good, pipsqueak. I don't like you getting caught up in this.”

Caleb likes to think that it is that way, but he knows that it's more than just that. 

“As you can tell–” you’re showing off your body–your arms first then your legs, then your abdomen. But what Caleb didn't expect you to do was lift up your shirt slightly, your skin exposed, and have your shorts hike up your thighs, just to prove your point. “Nothing! You can check me for tracking devices too if you want to.” 

Something snaps in him.

“So do you let your friends inspect your body like that?” 

He crawls onto the bed, watching the smile slowly drop from your face. 

Caleb’s fingers trace your bare skin, drawing goosebumps from how ghostly the touches feel. His fingers slide from the top of your knees, and towards your thighs.

“Do you know how worried I was when you didn't answer my messages?”

You’re about to part your lips to respond, but he cuts you off. 

“I was wondering what conversations you were having that you ignored me.” 

“Caleb–”

He’s completely trapped you against the headboard of his bed. He's trapped you with his stare. 

Caleb inches closer, until he's close enough. His eyes glance down to your lips for a split second before his gaze meets yours again. 

Your breath is shaky when he leans in closer. 

Then he turns away. 

What the fuck? 

You watch in disbelief as he pulls away, your breath still caught in your throat from the tension.

Caleb’s signature smile returns and you feel his palm stroke the back of your head. 

“You should go back to bed. It's late.” 

He turns to open his door for you to leave. 

“Maybe I should start coming home later too.” 

He pauses in his steps. 

“I don't think that's a bright idea, pipsqueak.”

You slide off his bed and walk towards his door. 

“Maybe not. But I have brighter ones that consist of escaping your curfew.” 

You’re ready to leave the room with your victory, that is, until the door before you completely shuts. You see his shadow tower over you from behind. 

You turn to face Caleb, your arms are crossed. 

“Didn’t you ask me to go to bed?” 

“Changed my mind. I wanna make sure you're thoroughly inspected.”

You’re facing Caleb, back on his bed again. He starts with your face, but he lets his fingers linger around your lips, brushing across your bottom lip. You turn away, and his fingers catch your chin, forcing you to face Caleb.

“No looking away.”

His eyes are devouring every patch of skin that exists on your body. Even though you're clothed, you feel naked when he has his eyes on you this intensely. His fingertips trace back to your lips and he slides it down painfully slowly–past your chin, down your neck, through your sternum, past your stomach, and stops right above the elastic of your shorts. 

You want to shift, but you realise you can't–your body suddenly feels weighed down to the bed, and that's when you realise Caleb has you held down with his Evol.

The softness in Caleb’s eyes disappears, and something else replaces it. You watch him tug your shorts off you, and all you can do is watch helplessly. 

His kisses tickle from your ankle, and he builds them upwards at an agonising pace, each kiss feeling warmer as he travels up your thigh. 

Your heartbeat only accelerates from there, watching Caleb inch closer and closer to your cunt. Your thighs tense up from the sensitivity, the warmth of his lips spreading over your skin when you feel his tongue come in contact with your skin. 

“That tickles”, your voice is soft, as if the defiance in your tone before never existed.

Caleb’s lips press against your clothed pussy. Despite the fact that you’re trembling slightly, you've completely soaked your panties, and Caleb is more than happy to soak them even more. 

He buries his tongue, wetting the fabric even further. The pleasure draws soft moans, but evidently, it's not enough. 

“Caleb… Could you lighten your Evol?” You plead. You want to feel him so bad. 

Your body instantly lightens, and you almost think you're gonna fall off the bed. 

Something else holds you down this time, and it's Caleb. 

He tilts your chin up to have your lips meet his, now his kisses melting off the thoughts in your brain. Warmth burns through your skin. It takes you seconds to realise Caleb is lifting your shirt off you.

The clothing article is the next victim tossed somewhere else on the bed. 

You take his cheeks to your palms.

“I really need you now, Caleb.”

The softness returns to his eyes momentarily. 

“Are you sure you're okay with this?”

“I'll hop off right now and head straight to bed if you don't”, you huff. Fuck, the anticipation is just clawing through your insides, begging for Caleb to do something.

He playfully scoffs. 

“We both know you wouldn't.” 

Caleb tugs your panties to the side, and lines himself to your hole.

He thrusts into you in one swift motion, and you feel it all the way in. It knocks your breath out of you. Caleb watches you helplessly gasp for air and adjust to his size. He’s just filled you so full. 

He’s still supporting you so you don't fucking pass out. He feels you scratch all over his back from the pressure but he stays still, at least, until you've adjusted. 

“Shit. You're so fuckin’ warm for me”, he hisses into your neck, trying his best not to thrust into you. You feel so tight for him, he feels so good just staying there.

He stretches you open for him–your pussy fluttering at the feeling of him filling you up. The pressure slowly fades and you quickly adjust to his size.

Your vision blurs when he thrusts into you from below–the sensation so overwhelming that it's making you tear up. 

“So good”, you sigh, struggling to keep your eyes open–almost impossible when his cock is hitting your g-spot over and over again. Sparks burst into your eyelids whenever he hits the spot and it's evident that he knows he’s able to unravel you just like that, so easily. 

“Caleb…”, you moan. Caleb’s still fucking you, feeling the way you're just squeezing him, watching the way your fingers have gone clawing his back to his bedsheets, the way your tits are bouncing from fucking you, the way your eyes practically form hearts when he knows he's hit your sensitive spots.

“Faster, please. You feel so fucking good.”

He knows you shouldn't have said that. You're the only person who can rile him up like this. How the hell are you making him break his resolve when he's supposed to be upset with you?

He leans in, practically hovering over you. His fingers cup your cheek and he forces you to meet his violet eyes. 

In your fucked out haze, you blink, confused when he slows down. He pulls out completely, and you're about to complain until he rolls your soiled panties off your legs, tossing it to somewhere on the bed. 

You gasp when you feel his thumb graze over your wet and throbbing clit. 

“I'm gonna make you wonder what the fuck wrong with your body”, Caleb’s voice reaches your ears. His words sends a shiver down your spine.

“Your little pussy is gonna throb every time you think of me.”

That's all the warning he gives before his arms tower over you, holding your wrists down above your head. 

He fucks you into an orbit and you're practically helpless–forced to take his thrusts over and over. But fuck, it feels so good. It feels like fucking heaven. 

You like how dizzy it makes you feel. You like how he's not stopping, no matter how much tears stream down your face, and how pathetic you sound crying and moaning his name. 

“Fuck! Caleb, it's too much–” you whimper, the strange feeling building up in your stomach. It feels like it's about to snap any second. 

He acknowledges your words, but he doesn't bother slowing down. 

“Didn’t you promise me to be a good girl and take all of it?” 

“Caleb–!”

Your voice sounds so heavenly when you call his name.

The fluids fountains out of you, soaking everything near it's vincity–including the both of you. Your orgasm continues to wash over you and more fluids spray out.

Caleb watches you squirm and jolt while you make a mess all over him. 

He lets go of your wrists, the slight redness forming onto your skin, and his thumb caresses your bottom lip. 

Despite your arms feeling sore from resisting against his hold, you wrap them around his neck, pulling him close to catch his lips. He's taken back for a split second, but he returns the kiss, letting his soft moans drown into your lips while you clench around him.

When you both pull back, it's Caleb’s turn to have his eyes glazed and his cheeks dusted a soft shade of pink. 

“y/n, if you keep doin’ that–fuck”, Caleb groans, his fingers closing into a fist against the sheets. His breath is shaky. The euphoria is threatening to spill over–the fact that you're trapping him in like this with you, just the two of you solely existing together right now–he could get high off this feeling. He doesn't need anything else. 

“I'm so close. Shit.” You watch the bead of sweat trickle down his temple, down to his cheek, to his chin, and then it disappears into the mess the both of you made below. 

Caleb’s voice makes you refocus on him. 

His palm presses against your cheek again, his thumb brushing lightly on the corner of your lips. 

“You're gonna take all of it like a good girl, yeah?” 

You nod, almost too eagerly. Caleb can't help but think that your face after being fucked looks breathtakingly beautiful. It makes him want to hide you further. The world doesn't deserve someone like you. 

He crashes his lips with yours, melting into the kiss while he pumps you full with his thick cum–making sure he has himself seated deep inside so nothing spills out. At least, not until he pulls out.

The high slowly descends, and the both of you are left panting, getting lost in each other’s eyes just for that moment before Caleb slowly pulls out. 

Caleb then reaches for the glass of water perched on his nightstand to offer you. You take a good few sips of water, and hand it back to Caleb, who takes a couple of sips as well. He notices the way your cheeks are still flushed and that you're blinking more. He plants the empty glass onto the nightstand, ready to carry you to wash up and probably change the sheets after.

In a daze, you notice Caleb’s cum seeping out of your hole in small loads. You wet two fingers and slide them to your pussy–and you push the thick fluids back in, your body jolting in pleasure while you're pretty much fingering your pussy with Caleb’s cum.

Caleb swallows hard while he watches you pleasure yourself. He’s about to say something but you cut him off.

“Your cum keeps leaking out”, you point out, giving him the full view of your cum-soaked pussy. You look up at him with an innocent, poison-soaked gaze–your lashes wet and your thighs trembling from each time you feel his cum leak out of you.

“It’d be such a waste–”, you mutter, shivering one more time when your fingers fuck you again, the room only filled with your voice and the wet squelching sounds from your pussy.

“–if it doesn't stay inside.” 

You barely have time to process what happens next. The next thing you knew, Caleb has your hands pinned above your head with one hand, and the other on your cheeks. His legs stop you from closing yours, and you feel his wet thickness hard once more, resting on your pubic bone.

“You know, pipsqueak”, his voice drops an octave lower. His voice is clear, and he makes sure you hear him. “It's okay to just ask for more.” His eyes reflect such a gorgeous shade of wild you've never seen before, and it looks fucking good on him.

No warnings–your cunt is just wet and sopping that Caleb stuffs you to fullness once more–you give up trying to keep your eyelids open, your mind only processing the way he’s fucking so deep into you again and again.

“You know I'll always give it to you.” 

The way his fingers are cupping your cheeks stops you from answering. Well, he doesn't need a verbal response, especially not when you’re clenching him so fucking tight when your orgasm hits you for the…how many times was it now?

You feel stings that slowly dull around your shoulders and chest. The bites Caleb’s given you are as red as the ruby on his apple necklace. 

The night is drowned with sounds and sensations of both you competing to send each other to the heavens. 

What day is it now? 

Caleb blinks his heavy eyelids open. He soaks in the atmosphere around him, and it doesn't take him long to realise that you're lying on his arm.

Thankfully, it's not numb. Your hair tickles his cheeks. 

He notices the light peeking through his curtains. It's probably daytime. 

Caleb presses his lips against the back of your head, while he pulls you closer. He almost jolts when he hears a soft moan coming from you.

For some reason, something feels funny. 

He attempts to shift slightly, and realises the predicament–his dick is still hard as fuck, and he’s still nestled so fucking deep in you. Fuck. Did the both of you fall asleep mid-sex? The feeling bleeds into him again. 

Are you even awake to realise this? 

Caleb bites his inner cheek, the hardness only builds. Shit. Even after all of that, you're still this warm and tight? 

He watches your breathing steadily. 

He hooks your leg over his arm almost too easily, giving himself easier access to fuck you deeper. Your sleepiness is slowly dissipating, overtaken so fucking quick by the burning desire once more.

His thrusts bear slight friction at first, but somehow that only adds to the pleasure–the rawness, the fact that he's left a mess in you and kept that way, and that he gets to do it all over again in the morning. 

“Ca…Caleb..!” You squeal, uselessly fisting the pillows while Caleb rails you from below. 

“So perfectly warm for me, y/n”, his morning voice dousing you. He takes advantage to litter more bites to the back of your neck and shoulders, and spoils you with his strained moans when he reflects the way you whimper whenever he hits your sensitive spots. 

You sheepishly bury your teary face into the pillows, and Caleb pushes himself impossibly deeper, forcing you to face him when you jolt in surprise. His violet eyes are eating you up. You hear his voice ring in your ears.

“Wanna make you cry more like this. You're so pretty when you cry when I'm splittin’ you open like this.” 

More tears stream down your cheeks whenever your g-spot gets abused over and over. Caleb forces you to meet his gaze. His thrusts are slower, but harder. 

“Shit, you're really gonna milk me dry, yeah?” Caleb hisses when he feels you flutter around him. Your cum is mixed with his, and drips down his cock, to his balls. 

Caleb pulls you tighter, deepening the kiss one last time while he breeds you full over and over for nth time since the last night, devouring your whimpers when the words you muttered to him last night comes into memory. You're so dizzy with pleasure, and Caleb has stolen all of your breaths. 

He finally pulls out, his cum endlessly drizzling out of your abused hole, and it almost sets him off again. 

Nonetheless, he forces himself to get out of bed so he can get a towel and clean you up.

Another loving kiss he presses onto your temple.

“I'm gonna get a towel, pipsqueak.” His husky whispers send shivers down your body, and the warmth of his touch lingers on your thighs for a lot longer than you realise.

He leaves the bed for the bathroom. 

You nuzzle into the pillows Caleb was just lying on, drowning yourself with his scent. The wetness that sticks between your legs–you can't tell if it's your fresh arousal or if it's his cum anymore.  

Not that it mattered since steadying your breath when you realised he was still in you when you stirred before him to see what he'd do next, gave you such a big reward. 

And you'd do it all over again. You would say things to get under his skin, just to get a rise out of him, just to keep his attention on you, always. 

You wanted to keep his strained voice when he called your name, the way he looks at you with so much desperation when he breeds you full, in a bottle and store it for your perverted indulgence. 

No one else needs to know that this part of Caleb exists, because he belongs to you. 

The dim light catches your attention underneath the thick sheets. You take the device, unlocking the phone with your fingerprint. 

6 missed calls. 

You swipe them away. You shut off his phone.

He doesn't need to know.

He doesn't need to remember.

At least, not when he's with you. 

[fluffmonger]

So, in my experience growing up as a deeply curious child in an Evangelical (tm) church..... We *did* read the Bible, we had Sunday school, and Bible studies, all kinds of things. My church used the New International Version as a standard, which keeps some of the poetics of King James, but is a lot clearer and cleaner to read, more modern English. Reading the Bible wasn't the issue at hand.

What we weren't taught was how to interpret the Bible in Context, as a document that was written by historic humans in historic societies and cultures, across several hundred years. There's... Depending on the church, and pastor or Bible study, you may get some emphasis on the difference between the gospels and the letters, or a rundown of the "parts" of the old testament ... But that's usually it. There's no digging into it, and absolutely no questioning. There's very little, if any, acknowledgement that it is in fact, a bunch of separate texts all compiled by a small group of Christians, decades or more after the death of Jesus. To many Christians, I'd wager it feels like the Bible just appeared fully formed out of the air one day, as their holy book. And of course you can't question it, it's *the word of God* so it has to be correct and right, and if you question you're Doubting and not Having Faith (etc).

I hadn't connected the fact that many of the writings of Paul, and John the Revelator were done in the Reign of Emperor Nero until recently, when my classicist partner saw the dates and went "wait what". And if you know anything about Nero well..... Is it any wonder that Paul might have some Concerns about things like morality, and public display of faith and other things? And again! I'm someone who was asking questions and such, all the time, even back then. I was deeply nerdy about it and trying to read it like I read in English class. This made me..... Unpopular. And also felt kind of blasphemous? Like, I always felt odd about that approach while I was in the middle of it because it was *not* standard.

Likewise, a lot of the old testament gets written off as "a collection of stories" and treated more like.... Parables or fables?? Instead of a written collection of Jewish oral history about their history, laws, traditions, and culture. It's all set vaugely "in the past, in Bible times" without any rooting to real history or landscapes or cultures. And of course, because the Bible is all that matters, most Protestants and evangelicals don't think at all about any of the scholarship that goes back millennia on any part of it, the writings of Rabis and later on Christian scholars. The Bible as I was taught, wasn't a living document or a record, it wasn't something to be debated about or argued with, or even questioned, no matter how weird it outdated it seemed. It was *law*, ironclad, and to the claims of many, perfect as is (despite being a work in translation with a lot of nuance and no understanding of translators bias or how a translation should work).

It's.... Pretty fucking dire, and horrific, especially to me now, because the things I've learned about the time periods that the Bible is from? Are actually fascinating, and make it *so* much richer as a text! And then understanding the world of early Christianity, how it became what it is today, how those beliefs and practices became established.... Man, it's fascinating. But again, there's this culture of "Christianity has always been like this and will always be like this" that's very present in those spaces that make it really hard to gain sight of it all.

And... Of course at the end of the day.... The reason people like me didn't realize some of this, is because we weren't told. We werent given the tools to ask the questions we needed to. You can't explore what you don't even know exists, and when you're just told that we don't associate with "those people" and are discouraged from thinking about other faiths except to convert them..... Well.

So yeah. It's not (just) that people don't have reading comprehension.... It's also that they quite literally arent taught the context and origins of their faith for.... Reasons. Also, American Christianity has always just been... Very extreme. Probably bc of the puritans but hey.

Since posting that "how many mass graves and extinct cultures" post last month, I've had multiple Christians in the notes whining that there isn't a "specific instruction of belief that Christianity needs to wipe out every other religion in the world" in Christianity's teachings, and that it's all just The Church/King James/etc.

And every time, I point to the literal text of the passages of The Great Commission.

And nearly every time, that shuts them up; the only time it didn't, it was to engage in some disgusting semantical goalpost moving.

But it's like...

Why do Christians not know the content of their own texts? Is your faith really so tribalistic and totemic around the concept of "Jesus" that you all don't bother to actually read the religious texts?

It feels like it must be--I've heard of too many instances of Christians walking out of readings of The Sermon On The Mount because they think it's "liberal nonsense" and the like, but I just find it baffling and more than a little sad that I, a Jew, apparently knows the New Testament's text better than the people who swear by it and ostensibly believe and follow it.

[imsofreakingtired]

I am so so so so sorry if this is too close to nsfw (in my head it's very fluff/comfort but I apologise if it makes you uncomfortable bc I'm not sure), but thinking about Sevika w/ a partner who's been pressured by their ex's into doing things like sexually and her just reassuring them that like no baby I wanna hold you what r you talking ab I've been here all of 15 seconds I'm not tryna fuck calm down

And her partner who is so so surprised wdym ??? You just wanna spoon me isn't this the part where you grope my chest and Sevika is like BABY NO

I don't know I'm using her to cope this is so self indulgent I just wanna hear your thoughts on it

i love this idea, thank you for the request anon...and shitt this one was so personally relatable to me 😔

things i wanna say to you

content warning(s): mentions of trauma from past relationships, angst, hurt/comfort

"there's things i wanna say to you, but i'll just let you live like if you hold me without hurting me you'll be the first who ever did."

~~~

“Your beauty…it’s a blessing.”

It’s a sentence that returns and returns to you. It’s a truth you hold in your hands, or wear on your shoulders like a mantle you can’t take off. You have heard it, in one form or another, from the lips of lover to lover. They whispered it to you in the heat of sex, like a special confession only for you, and then vanished like a vapor. 

Your body is like a hotel, you think—a pretty room that people pass through and love only in the moment. When was the last time you were held without the other person’s hands hungrily seeking your breasts? When was the last time you were kissed without their hands roaming your body like an impatient, starved animal? 

Once, you had worked up the courage to confront them. You told them, “hands off.” You don’t exactly remember how the conversation went. But you know that it ended in them laughing in your face, suggesting you work at Babette’s if you wanted compensation for your body. 

When they were gone, you stood in the silent room and wondered if they were right. You wondered if it was your fault. If your body was the only good thing, the only worthy thing about you. If you were nothing more than a pretty face and a blank canvas waiting to be ruined. If you were asking too much when you asked for even just a shadow of respect. 

You stopped speaking after that. 

~~~

Shortly after you began to work for Silco as his record scribe, you met his henchwoman, Sevika. Immediately you knew she was different. She didn’t look at you the way others did—in fact, she barely looked at you at all. When she spoke to you she looked down at you over her hooked nose, her handsome, perfect nose, in a way that made you feel both insignificant and the only woman in the entire world. She didn’t give you flattery about your appearance, spoke bluntly when you made mistakes. 

Still you caught her staring at you from time to time when she thought you were too immersed in work to notice. But her face betrayed nothing. Her brows were always drawn together as if everything in the world annoyed her. You assumed she was only scrutinizing the way you worked. You wondered if Silco had ordered her to monitor you, assess your performance. You worked harder as a result, feeling oddly gratified to be watched for a reason other than your appearance. 

So one could imagine your shock when Sevika strode up to your desk one morning and said, “get your coat. Walk with me.” 

From that day on, you were hers. 

~~~

The first night you moved into her apartment had been a hard day at work. You had been at the desk all day without a single break, trying frantically to keep up with the endless flow of Shimmer shipment records and orders. Sevika had been on her feet from dawn to dusk—you hadn’t seen her for two consecutive minutes even though you worked in the same building. 

The night had deepened, the sky outside dusted with faint stars. You were undressing for bed. If you were tired, how exhausted must Sevika be? You paused in front of the mirror before you slipped the nightshirt over your body. Maybe she would want to let off some steam. Maybe she expected it from you. Hesitantly, you put the nightshirt on. You didn’t want to, but you felt like you owed it to her. Like she deserved it.

Sevika came in, her mechanical arm detached and water glistening on her face from a quick wash. She smiled slightly when she saw you waiting on the bed. “There’s my girl. C’mere.”

She sank into the bed you now shared with her, and obediently you crawled over and folded yourself into her embrace. Her right arm curled around you protectively. Her warmth, her strength, the tautness of her muscles against your skin. It was heavenly. 

She sighed into your neck, and it made you shiver slightly. The question tiptoed to the end of your tongue: can we…can we maybe just stay like this? 

But you feared she would say no. You feared she would be mad. And leave you. 

You waited for her to make the next move, to start pulling the shirt over your head, or turn you around so she could grope between your legs. When several seconds passed and she did nothing, you realized that maybe she was waiting for you. 

Reluctantly, you pulled yourself away and began to take off your shirt. 

Sevika sat up, confused. “What are you doing?”

You freeze in your movements. Your shirt falls back down over your chest. “I—you don’t want to…?”

She shook her head, lips curling in a bemused smile. “Baby, relax. I’ve been here fifteen seconds.”

Slowly, you returned to her, and she pulled you close once more. Sevika felt the shudder of relief that went through your body. Though you didn’t see it, her face creased with concern. She had noticed the apprehension in your eyes, nearly bordering on fear. And she made a mental note to herself to find whatever fucker had hurt you and made you so scared. 

~~~

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 060 - Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Valentines Day ◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

╰┈➤ ❝ [ My Reason ] ¡! ❞

Valentines day, the day Jinwoo dreads the most. Not because you're oh-so demanding— It's just a habit he never got to shake off even if you're both dating for years.

Just like your birthdays and anniversaries— He makes a big deal out of it.

This time he opted to make a jar of paper stars as his choice of handmade gifts.

"Pfft... Jinwoo, you're 24, why are you acting like you're still 17?" You laugh as he awkwardly stretches the jar of pastel blue and purple paper stars to you.

"Jagiya, don't make fun of me" He coughs, scratching the back of his neck after you accept the little gift he made solely for you.

"But you're too cute right now to not make fun of!" You grin a boxy smile, melting your boyfriend's heart in an instant that he couldn't stop himself from kissing the tip of your nose.

"Come on, let's go on a date" Jinwoo stretches his hand out to you— An offer you immediately accepted.

꒰ .... ꒱

There's only your footsteps in this empty park you both decided to spend the day. while normally it should be running with people— It seems that no one in particular wanted to spend the day outside. Not that you're both complaining since it's quieter for the both of you as well as no lines on the food trucks.

It's a win-win, right?

The day is only spent walking and chatting— To be exact Jinwoo was just babysitting you since you have an aeful record of getting yourself hurt whenever you're both in the park.

Yeah, you're an idiot.

His lovable idiot atleast.

"Hup!" You jump onto a tree stump and stretch out your hand with a single blue paper star he had made.

"Baby, what are you doing?" He snorts, keeping his hands in his pockets as he watched you prance about like a little child.

"I'm just wondering what a real night sky would look like" You explain, humming softly as you keep staring at the paper blue star with the empty night sky as it's backdrop. "If the lights in korea are all out and the air is clean, how many stars do you think we'll be able to see?"

"...."

Jinwoo then looks to the side for quite a while, "Wan't me to show you then?"

"What? Are you going to turn off all of korea's lights now?"

"I can, but I've got a better idea"

He suddenly joins you in the tree stump, pulling you by your waist close to him as the ground suddenly becomes pitch black with the misty shadows gathering into one. You could only gasp at the sudden visual, grasping onto his coat as the mist lifted you both off.

The gathering darkness formed a dragon, the scales of the creature glimmering in monarch purple as it roared loudly before ascending to the sky.

"S-sung Jinwoo, I said warn me next time! Kyahh!" You scream for dear life, practically sobbing whilst the man himself only laughs at your misery.

He hasn't teased you all day after all, how could a man not indulge in his woman?

"Ah... So cute." — Was the only thing in his head as he orders Kaisel to fly faster just so he can hear more of your panicked voice.

꒰ .... ꒱

The flight took a total of 30 minutes, your vocal chords now nonexistent from the screaming and crying. When you both finally landed, you whip a head towards your lover and began hitting him as a form of a tanthrum.

And how does the mighty Sung Jinwoo, the shadow monarch responds?

He only smiles mischievously as he blocks your attacks lazily with his palm.

Jinwoo lets you complain for a bit before placing a gentle palm on your cheek, whispering; "Look Up."

You didn't want to, what if the bastard is going to use his shadows to jumpscare you like he did whenever he's deathly bored? But after staring into those charming grey eyes ou never grew tired off— You finally look up.

Above your head is the edless night sky painted in several and millions of stars of different colors and shades. Pink, blue, yellow, purple, red— A whole galaxy is actually on the otherwise empty sky you've become used to seeing.

"Has... the sky always been pretty like this?" You ask as you are put in a complete daze while as Jinwoo's orbs only focus on you.

"If... There is less pollution and the lights are all turned off— Maybe you would see some other planets too" Jinwoo said.

"Will Woowoo show me that sky too?"

"You really want me to turn off all the lights in this world?"

"Hahah."

He can. You just have to ask.

But Jinwoo knew you won't so he just lets you indulge the night sky. He remembers it clearly, it was also around this hour where he first confessed to you. Although the sky that time is as empty as it gets— It still feels te same.

His hearts are racing, both his human heart and the heart he inherited from Ashborn as he holds your hand in this peaceful hour.

"I love you"

Jinwoo randomly blurts out, opting you to look at him, But his expression; as loving as it is he looks as of he is harboring some unsaid sorrow and regret.

But even if you asked, Jinwoo would only shake his head.

So intead, you return his affection, "I love you too, woowoo!"

That sweet, sweet, innocent and lovely smile of yours. The smile that is forever embedded into his head whenever he has to go through something alone and something that he is not confident in facing. Just like the rest of you from then; Jinwoo will burn this moment of you tonight in his memories should he need to face anything much bigger than he could ever handle.

Wordlessly, Jinwoo leans down and embraces your soft lips in his. A kiss full of tenderness and longing, a kiss of quiet passion.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Idc that Valentines is days awayit's either you take it or not hahahahahah. I love this man sm you don't understand skskdflglr, I genuinely love Sung Jinwoo and idc he's not real I'm very happy living rn because of him. So uh... Happy early valentines everyone!!! ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[milessunflowers]

welcome back to specific requests with sir bear!!

landoscar with a reader who's always covered up. neck down to feet. only their hands and head are visibly uncovered. landoscar don't think anything of it until reader goes to one of the hotter grand prixs (singapore or miami maybe?) and rocks up in shorts and a tank top, exposing that they are covered in tattoos

feel free to make them as down bad as u like lmfaoo

-bear

landoscar >>>>

bear this is amazing i am in love with this

lando norris x tattoed!gn!reader x oscar piastri

synopsis: no one ever expected lando and oscar's boyfriend to be absolutely jacked, covered in tattoos. unsurprisingly, they are drooling when he shows up in a tank top and shorts

author's note: bear, your ideas always eat like this is just 😍 sorry it took me so long to write, i lost all motivation for a while (thank you dilfs of f1 for bring it back, iykyk). it did get suggestive so be warned! like always, feel free to request

you are never seen with bare arms

like ever

oscar and lando have seen you bare (obviously) before and are absolutely feral for your tattoos

however, fans never expected you to have tattoos, let alone full sleeves on both arms and your legs

you usually show up almost completely covered

but when your boyfriends are racing in a usually hot/humid climate, there would be no way to wear long sleeves/hoodies and pants

you would die before you did that

this was your first race without being covered

usually you only went to the colder races

you were used to being covered since you had to cover the art on your body for work

but this was just nice

you rocked up by yourself as you decided to sleep in a bit

you headed straight for the mclaren garage, stopping time to time to get bracelets from fans and delivering some of them to oscar and lando

most people were shocked when they saw you

you just smiled widely and acted as your usual self

when your boyfriends saw you, their jaws dropped

theyve seen your tattoos loads of times

but this was just the best

lando was basically drooling, obviously too excited for being out in public

oscar was better at controlling himself

not saying he wasn't absolutely wanting to bite you but he just was able to keep himself under control

you smiled at them, winking

it ended with lando whining and oscar trying to keep it in his pants

they had to so their media stuff so you were just wondering for a bit, talking to alex and logan and max before heading back

you got a text in the group chat between you and your boyfriends

basically, they wanted you in lando's drivers room right then and there

you'd been enjoying teasing them all day, but you were only human

you couldn't resist your hot, amazing, talented boyfriends more than they could resist you

you headed to the drivers room and one thing led to another and you had to end up being lectured by zak on why you can't fuck your boyfriends inside the garage anymore

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile

[megapteraurelia]

kuroo tetsurou and you did not have lots of interactions, usually.

so you were more than surprised when he turned to you during chemistry class and looked at you through the tuft of black hair falling into his eyes and let out a string of words that seemingly made no sense to you. his gaze cast away, a certain air of embarrassment hanging in the air when you didn’t answer, and he turned away, mumbling to himself.

“wait, did you just compare me to acid?”

“no, not acid— more like…the reaction is just so explosive, like us—  i mean, just us as in people, or like—” he breathed out carefully, and then shook his head at himself, laughter stealing itself to his voice as he rubbed his jaw, “never mind. i already fucked it up.”

now, you were not the brightest person in this world, but you could smell a butchered pick up line from a mile away. and the way kuroo tetsurou rested his chin on the inside of his hand, fingers covering his temple, effectively shielding his face from you, with the faintest of pink covering his ears, told you just how secretly embarrassed he was.

kuroo was cute, you thought. 

it didn’t take a miracle for you to come to the conclusion, especially not when you were used to hearing his loud voice boom through the class during the breaks. he was the one trying to keep some class-visiting friends in line, naturally assuming the leading role to hush them down, blissfully unaware at the same amount of loud energy he was returning.  he also didn’t escape you when he tried coaxing his blonde friend to eat more, offering to share his food only to try to bait him into taking it instead, when he got rejected.

you didn’t interact often, but kuroo tetsurou’s presence was hard to miss and the tiny flutter of your heart in response to noticing him hard to ignore.

“so,” you leaned a little over to him, and subconsciously, he had already started to accommodate you, lowering his head to catch your voice, “if you had to guess and we were, say, a chemical compound, would we be stable or unstable?”

his eyes lit up, a sly little look overtaking the embarrassment despite the little blush on his cheeks, and you could see his mouth curving up into a little grin, entirely too comfortable to walk the line between smooth-talking and sounding like the biggest nerd you had the fortunate luck of sharing seats with, “good question. we’d probably be unstable.”

oh.

you already felt your blood rushing to cover your skin in an embarrassed hue of red because you thought you were slick with that one. unstable? humiliating— but then he continued talking.

“but in a good way, you know? like, when two elements are drawn together, even if it’s turbulent. a little bit of controlled chaos makes things exciting, right?”

he looked at you with what was supposed to be a lazy smirk, though it wobbled with slight nervosity. one finger of his tried to brush away his fringe of hair, but the black strands fell back onto his face almost effortlessly. he really was cute, and for a split second you wondered the type of kisser he would be.

“so, like sodium and water?”

“okay, hold,” he held up a hand, trying to keep his expression in check (and failing to do so), “maybe not that exciting. that’s a little too dangerous, though it’s nice to know you like me that much.”

you nudged his shoulder away from you at the cheesiness, body straightening up again and an eye roll escaped you though you were anything but annoyed. if anything, you were a little charmed by the cowlicked hair, his eyes trained on you and the slight smile that didn’t know whether it should make fun of you or flirt with you. 

maybe he could do both.

you then decided to just try your luck because there was no way he tried to actually flirt with you using chemistry if he wasn’t at least the least bit interested, right? 

“yeah, yeah. maybe you should teach me some of that.”

he stared for a little while, silent and stumped (because it worked? holy—), though when he turned back to look back to the front of the class, you noticed the small, secret movement of him fist pumping the air and the stifled smile threatening to overtake his features.

(after class, you definitely didn’t overhear kuroo tetsurou whisper-yelling that you didn’t deny liking him, only for him to act all cool about it in the same minute. 

as if it was only natural for it to happen, he kept flexing his arms and striking ridiculous poses at the prospect that you supposedly were only one hair width away from being wooed by him. 

his blonde-haired friend did not seem impressed. at all.)

[bbina]

you have been avoiding wonbin like the goddamn plague

ignoring all his texts, calls and everything else in between ever since that incident that you've been trying so hard to forget about though somehow his words play in your mind like a broken record. a constant reminder

friends.

you hope that wonbin hasn't caught on with your avoidance but you know better. he knows you like the back of his hand. he's bound to question why you were avoiding him

currently you were hanging out with seunghan at some cafe near the campus

"hm, boyfriend not available?" seunghan says, settling down the drinks on your table

"haha. very funny" you say sarcastically, grabbing your drink from his hands. "how many times do i have to say he's not my boyfriend"

seunghan laughs, "yeah right. my bad i meant the friend that you kiss, isn't available"

you grumbled as you glare at seunghan

"what? it's not a secret, right? i mean you two are practically almost together everyday... until recently" seunghan shrugs, pointing out the obvious

heol.. how did he know?

"just been busy recently. nothing much to it if you're implying something.." you brush him off. if anything it would've been a little better if he would just drop the topic

seunghan watches you for a moment. he can literally see the gears turning on your head as you try to come back with some excuse but he sees right through you

"you know, wonbin has been with chaewon a lot recently" seunghan brings up

your eye twitches at the mention of chaewon. you try to keep your expression neutral in case seunghan decides to stir shit up again

"so?" you raise an eyebrow, "he can hang out with anyone else. i'm literally hanging out with you too" you point out

seunghan leans back on the cushioned seats, sipping on his drink. you were just too damn obvious or maybe seunghan just knows you enough to see through your bullshit

"really?" seunghan tilts his head to the side, giving you a look, "that's all you're going to say?"

your eyebrows furrow. what is he implying?

"what else is there to say? i keep telling you. we're just friends" you mumbled, trying to ignore that feeling in your stomach

the words itself tastes bitter in your mouth

seunghan gives you one more look before he drops the subject

"okay miss girl. if you say so... now lets talk about my project!" he chuckles, grabbing his laptop from his bag. you let out a sigh of relief that seunghan didn't press on much further

now the only thing you have to worry about for now is how much longer can you avoid wonbin

alone together ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 . . . just us two

── taking comfort in the thought that you are together in aloneness through late night talks, heartfelt confessions, and a genuine connection. with your shared experience of recent heartbreaks, you wonder if getting together would be all worth it. in which you find solace in each other's company, that you are alone together.

⋆｡˚ prev | next ˚｡

꩜ notes .ᐟ i lowkey feel like this story would be better written type shit but idk

꩜ taglist .ᐟ @onlywonb @rosesfortaro @starwonb1n @wonychu @totheseok @dolloie @hyunjinsnumberonefun @binluvsu @onlyhyunjin @annswwa @wonbinsvlle @hakkkuu @ilovejungwonandhaechan @artstaeh @lecheugo @odxrilove @bunni @saranghoeforanton @nujeskz @nakam00t @kyusqult @nctsshoes2 @s9nwoo @daegale @palchokitty @dutifullyannoyingfox @oshakyao @koryutte @b-riize @meowbini @peterm4rker @winuvs @i03jae @rsatoru @enhacolor @dalliesque @sweetiejaeyun @dearestjake @cupidslovearrows @sasfransisco @kkumistars @sngj08 @taroddori @ennycutie @sa3ha @koeuh @astro-doll-the-star @amouriu

[ladyrosemone]

My favorite

We've got all the ingredients, except you needing me - Cake, Melanie Martinez

I'm using Google Translate here! 🗣‼️‼️ Please excuse any spelling mistakes or inconsistencies, I swear I'm studying to improve my written English 😭 This idea came to me thanks to @kiwisandpearls, I loved your take on the abandoned Waynes haha! I'll definitely be making more at some point.

The Waynes, the most powerful and influential family in Gotham City, the diamond that gives it an artificial shine, replacing the forgetful Sun, which never seems to illuminate those lands of darkness.

What makes the Waynes different from other Gotham millionaires is not their humility, nor their sense of duty to their employees and followers, much less their reckless extravagance when it comes to spreading their (according to gossip) infinite wealth.

No, none of that, it's something more private, more intimate.

Love.

At first no one believed that, because come on, Bruce Wayne? The greatest playboy known throughout the world, with adopted children as if they were precious jewels every season, conceited and proud, a philanthropic genius of unfair beauty? In love? Pure gossip that entertained for a while, but was never more than that, gossip for the elite and showbiz for the lower class.

Until a newspaper (one that does not usually produce so many fallacies), revealed its newest scandal.

"Bruce Wayne Spotted With Young Beauty! Has Gotham's Biggest Mogul Finally Settled Down?"

If that wasn't enough, they were right, because the next launch came with Olympic magnitudes!

"Bruce Wayne's Child Finally Revealed! Gives Exclusive Interview About Him Sudden Return"

And how do we get to this?

When a man loves a woman...oh no, that's not how it started.

It was a woman from his youth, one who left when the next day and returned when Batman appeared in Gotham City.

You arrived as a ten-year-old child; small and confused, scared and insecure, longing for you deceased mother and the life you left behind with her. Bruce didn't know how to relate to you at first, and having an angry, newly orphaned child didn't make him any better, but he tried, he really did.

And little by little it worked...only in one child.

You could never get over the loss of your mother, she was your whole world and now you were with this...man who claims to be your father, a father you never had and out of nowhere he gives you things and takes you to his work to meet more boring old men. To make matters worse, that child he adopted out of charity is irritating, one day bothering you for being "spoiled" and the next wanting to spend a sibling afternoon with you.

But you don't have brothers.

You didn't have them when Jason arrived (although you cried for him), you didn't have them when Tim arrived and definitely not when Damian arrived and his arrogant attitude of the legitimate son wanting to hang out with only you. It's frustrating! Every second of the day is a request from someone to go out, to eat together, to...For anything to keep them attached like fleas!

You remember one of Richard's last attempts, before he left Gotham for an exchange, or for you a chance to get away from that family;

You were in the kitchen, eating breakfast that she had prepared herself because it makes you uncomfortable to have an older man serving you, when Richard appears with his hundred-dollar smile and a lot of irritating energy.

"Hello hello!" He greets you with his usual energy "How did my favorite person wake up?"

It's too early for this you think tiredly, taking a sip of coffee.

Your lack of response doesn't discourage him, it motivates him more for some strange reason "I have wonderful news, I got a vacation from work! And guess where we're going?"

"We're going?" Bored questions, annoyed by the new plan that you were not consulted about, again.

"That's the spirit! Let's go to Disneyland!"

"..." you look at him with dead eyes, and with all your heart you wonder how that big boy is a functional adult "I can't today, but ask me tomorrow, I'll surely be free to go"

"Really?"

"No"

Next is Jason, who although he was not as insistent as Richard, was the most energetic in his attempts, then the Joker thing happened and...well, you can't treat him badly, you're not cruel.

But coming back from the dead is his pity card, used so many times that you wonder every day if it became an excuse at some point.

"Hey" he said to you one day when he found you in the library "There's an art and literature exhibition in the downtown library, let's go"

"...I'm already reading"

"You can read with me and shop at the same time, you like shopping don't you?"

"I like my time alone with my book, Jason"

"You didn't used to say the same thing, but that's what makes you die, it leaves you thinking about your past life..."

"..."

"...Are you coming?"

"I hope you get hit by a car"

Tim is a silent pusher, he doesn't come close but you know he's there, and that happens brr brr every minute with a brr brr new message.

"Where are you?"

"Are you really asking me?"

"I give you the benefit of the doubt"

"I'm going to block you"

"Again?"

"The computers of the whole city"

Virtual annoyance has been disconnected

And Damian...OMG Damian.

It's a nuisance, a sharp little nuisance; refusing to leave your side whenever he can, demanding attention, time together, activities and visits to any place he wants.

"Sister" greets the boy, who doesn't even know where he came from if you're at university right now and he should be at school.

"What are you doing here Damian?" You demanded harshly, looking everywhere so that no one would associate Bruce Wayne's youngest son with you, not when you did your best not to be recognized as a Wayne since you were a child.

"I want to go save wildlife in Africa from hunters and I need an adult to accompany me" he explains as if it were the most normal thing in the world, another Thursday for him.

"Tell Bruce-"

"Father"

"Let me take you, or take Richard, don't bother me"

"And I don't want adopted children, I want my blood accompanying me in this mission to safeguard wildlife"

"If I tell you if you leave?"

"Are you going with me?"

"Yes yes whatever"

You didn't go.

And not to mention the collateral damage; Barbara and her constant moments of togetherness solving cases (you don't answer her messages), Stephenie and her desire for you to teach her how to cook (you never go to the mansion's kitchen), Cassandra wanting to be by your side (years with Bruce allowed you to develop a sixth sense to evade his shadows), and the newest, Duke Thomas.

He is fine...he keeps his distance, and deliberately ignores the fact that not a single light bothers his eyesight all day.

The worst of all, your father, Bruce Wayne.

Money, gifts, trips, clothes, portraits, everything he can give you, he gives it to you, so much so that you feel like drowning sometimes.

It is strict and suffocating, affectionate but distant, present and absent at the same time. It is annoying and contradictory!

He was the reason you went on exchange to Metropolis, until you discovered that the Kents were close friends of your father and that their approach was not of good will, relocating you to Spain until you finished university.

Reluctantly you had to go back, just long enough to finish the paperwork and stop being Wayne once and for all.

But that was your mistake, coming home, and this time they won't let you go, because you can't hate them more and that's an opportunity for them.

[doppel-doodles]

A normal post a about Kevin Barnes from Poppy Playtime.

I genuinely feel so bad for Kevin…

Like that was a kid who clearly had a lot of issues from the start, instead of getting the help he needed all that happened was him being marked off as a „problem child“.

And then he was turned into a toy:/

Read more of my full thoughts and a sorta character analysis/ramblings below cut!

Like honestly no wonder he is seething if he wasn’t troubled before he definitely is now-

Obviously he has no trust in anyone, almost every adult he ever knew screwed him over in some way, hell even the kids he shares a body with would go against what he would do.

(Great example: When Doey chases us in his monster form, it's the arms of Matthew and Jack that are trying to keep his mouth from biting us, Kevin's are trying to grab for us.)

He was hurt over and over again, clearly he wasn’t aggressive just because he wanted to be but because this was his only way of making sure he wouldn’t get hurt.

It was how he had a semblance of control, a sense of protection.

But of course the irony is: That coping mechanism brought him more pain, it was what got him killed.

Sure, maybe he could've just "calmed down", but why would he? He was hurt again, he lost everything AGAIN.

All because he listened to their judgement over his own. Kevin could've killed the player and Poppy on sight, clearly his emotions easily overpowered the other two, but he didn't.

Instead he agreed to trust them as well.

He was still willing to do that, surely if he were just a mindless monster he wouldn't be.

And you know what? I believe he blames himself just as much if not more for what happened than he blames us and Poppy and projects it tenfold.

Because maybe, JUST MAYBE-

If he didn't allow himself to trust again, then everyone would still be alive.

But he did...now see what that got him?

In his mind he's proven right.

So what's an emotionally unstable child to do? After being hurt AGAIN?

That's right.

He lashes out at the first thing he sees that had something to do with his pain:

Us.

Is he in the right? Hell nah- bro we didn't mean for that to happen! But do you seriously think this kid is thinking rationally right now??? NO! He is seeing red right now, he is in fight mode! All emotions and must I reiterate that the only way he knows how to express them is through anger and violence?

There is NO reasoning with wrath try as you might! And that hurts because yeah maybe you could've dealt with that if he was still a gradeschooler but he isn't! He is 900 pounds of living dough with a thirst for blood!

It's either our life or his now. And we already know what the outcome of that is.

Honestly I think it's better that we only hear Matthew and Jack apologise for what happened, I do not think Kevin would even if he did feel bad for what he had done.

Because why would someone who has been scorned so many times be vulnerable all of the sudden? When his main character trait is biting at those who bark at him?Why would all that rage suddenly disappear? If anything the stress of dying only causes him to lash out more.

You don't need an apology from him to feel bad for him.

He is hurting anyone with two eyes can see that and for what it's worth, I do believe deep down he knew what he was doing was wrong but it was too late for him to see any other alternatives and even if he didn't and thought he was right for doing what he did it doesn't take away from the fact that he was fucked over by life.

Kevin is not the worst part of Doey, he is just a part of him.

And that part is not just a violent hunk of playdough.

It’s a scared, confused little boy that cared just as much about every toy in safe haven as his other two components did.

Because if he didn’t why would he get so angry about their death?

Anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk-

Also feel free to agree or disagree with my take, those are just my thoughts so let me hear yours, I like discussions:}

[darlingdaisyfarm]

This honestly might be a downer or stupid, but I just got fired and I am having a really hard time. I just want to bury my head in Stan's chest and sob. I was wondering if you could write how the Stan and Ford might react to the reader being suddenly fired and maybe how they'd comfort them? I'm also really excited for the next chapter of your fic!

✧˚⋆ Stan & Ford supporting you when you need it most ⋆｡♡˚

oh sweetheart, im so sorry ur going through this, holy shit. just the moment i received this ask, i knew i had to write smth when ill get free time today, because i feel so sorry for you. i hope these two old men gave u even a tiny bit of comfort, please be kind to urself right now, youre gonna get through this, i promise. sending u all my love !! stay strong please 🫂🫂

STANLEY

the thing about Stan is that he gets it. he gets the feeling of being chewed up and spat out, of having doors slam in your face, of working your ass off and still being told you’re not enough. he gets the quiet humiliation, the bitterness in the back of your throat, the way your hands shake when you try to act like it doesn’t matterm

you don’t even remember how you got here. your feet must’ve carried you through the streets, past strangers whose lives weren’t just ruined, past cars honking, past buildings that still stood while the whole world inside you had collapsed.

“hey, hey. what the hell, sweetheart, breathe, alright? you’re okay, you’re right here.” his rough but worried voice reaches you when you slam mystery shack's door open, standing in the doorway with shaking hands, red-eyed.

“i got fired, Stan. j-just gone, outta nowhere. i don’t know what to do, Stan, im so lost.” your throat burns

before you can say anything else, he's opening his arms. “c'mere.” and you don't even hesitate as you crash into him like a wave, burying your face in his chest. and he holds you, one big arm wrapping around your back, the other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head

“there we go. you don’t gotta keep it all in, sweetheart.” the words hit you harder than you expect. you're so used to holding it together, to swallowing everything down, to being strong. and Stan, who’s built himself up from nothing, who’s taken every punch life threw at him and still kept standing, he’s telling you it’s okay to break.

so you do. you bury your face in his chest and cry until you’re dizzy, until your breath stutters and shakes, until all the anger and hurt and fear bleed out of you. Stanley doesn’t rush you or tell you to stop. “let it out, sweetie, s’gonna be okay.” he holds you close tightly because he’s spent his whole life holding people who needed it more than he did.

“it’s not fair,” you gasp, clutching on his clothes.

“no, it ain’t.”

“i worked so hard.”

“i know.”

“i feel like—like nothing i do is enough—”

Stan tightens his hold, pressing his chin to the top of your head. “hey. you listen to me.” his voice turns serious. “some suit in an office makin’ a crap decision got nothing to do with who you are. they're dumb. absolute morons for lettin’ you go. betcha the whole place is gonna fall apart without you because you were the best thing about that shithole. if they couldn’t see that, then screw ‘em. they lost you. not the other way around.”

you shake your head, clenching your fists. “but—“

“no buts,” he growls and then, softer: “you're not trash just ‘cause some idiots don’t know how to treat their workers. you're not worthless just ‘cause some suits decided you were expendable. you are not nothing.”

Stan pulls back to tip your chin up, making sure you’re listening. his thumb wipes a tear off your cheek. “i mean, you still got me, sweetheart. ain’t no job in the world that could change that.” he smiles genuinely at you.

you close your eyes, giving him a tiny sad smile back. you let yourself breathe, let yourself believe it, hiding your face in his chest again. Stan's grip stays strong and unshaking, shielding you from the whole world as you cry until you’re too tired, so all what you do is sob into his chest. you’re just leaning into him, exhausted, letting him hold you up.

Stan sighs, resting his cheek against your hair. “ya ever heard the story of the biggest screw-up in New Jersey?”

you sniffle. “what?”

”lemme tell ya, kid grows up in a house that don’t want him. gets kicked out. loses every job he ever had. ends up in a broken-down shack in the middle of nowhere. total loser.”

you shift against him. “Stan—“

“but he keeps goin’. and somehow, somehow, that dumbass loser ends up with people who love him. ends up holdin’ someone who needs it. ends up tellin’ the best damn person he’s ever met that they’re gonna be okay.”

he lets you lean into him again, lets you breathe him in, lets you stay as long as you need. tells you stories about all the bosses he’s scammed just to make you laugh.

at some point, when the tears have slowed and the weight in your chest isn’t crushing anymore, Stan ruffles your hair and leans back, arms crossed.

“y’know, i could use an extra set of hands around the shack.“

you blink up at him, sniffing. “what? you. . .you want me to work here?”

“yeah, id rather have someone i actually like workin’ here instead of hiring some random kid who’s just gonna rob me blind.” his usual gruff tone is back, but his gaze is what speaks louder, soft and certain, making it obvious that you belong here.

you open your mouth, but he cuts in, pointing a finger at you. “and before ya say some crap about not bein’ good enough or whatever, shut up. i’m the boss, i decide who’s good enough, and i say it’s you.”

you let out a shaky laugh, wiping your nose. “wow, such a heartfelt offer.”

he smirks. “hey, that’s as heartfelt as it gets, sweetheart. but seriously. think about it, okay? i got a spot for ya.” Stanley is not just offering a job for you, he’s offering a place, a place where you’re wanted, where you’re needed, where you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.

you take a deep breath, feeling lighter for the first time all day. “yeah. yeah, i’ll think about it.”

“good,” Stan smiles and ruffles your hair again. “now, wanna eat somethin’? watch a dumb movie? beat me at cards? or you want me to egg their car?” about the last thing, he's joking, probably. but if you say yes, you know he’ll do it.

STANFORD

Ford finds you sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed on the surface, face buried in them. you haven’t moved and spoken in a while, just sat there, motionless, like a puppet with the strings cut.

he clears his throat, stepping closer. “i, ah. noticed you didn’t come in for dinner.”

you don’t respond. his brows knit together, concern creasing his forehead. he takes the seat across from you, folding his hands on the table. “would you like to talk about it?”

for a moment, nothing. then, muffled: “i got fired.” slips from your mouth. so that's what happened. Ford doesn’t say oh. doesn’t say im sorry. doesn’t say what happened? he understands you because Ford Pines knows what it is to be discarded. he knows what it is to dedicate yourself to something, only to be told you are wrong. to be shoved out, unmoored, drifting in the space between who you thought you were and who they’ve decided you are now.

he knows what it is to look down at his hands and wonder if they are still meant to build something. after being betrayed.

he frowns thoughtfully. “that was. . . rather sudden, wasn’t it?”

you nod weakly. Ford exhales through his nose, gaze sharpening, analyzing. you. your sadness. the whole situation.

“it must feel unfair.“ he doesn’t just acknowledge the loss, but the injustice of it. and it makes your throat close up.

you lift your head slightly, looking at his face. “it- it is. i tried so hard. i put so much effort into that stupid job, and now it’s just—just gone.”

Ford hums. “tell me something.” he leans forward, putting elbows on the table. “do you think your value was in the work you did?”

you blink at him, but he doesn't even let you answer. “because if that were the case, then the moment you lost that job, you would have lost all worth as a person. but that’s not true, is it?” his voice is always so calm, full of absolute certainty.

you shake your head slowly, unsurely and Ford nods, satisfied. then, after a brief pause, he stands. “wait here” you don’t have the energy to question him. you just sit, staring blankly at the tabletop, until he returns a moment later with a notebook and pen.

he places them in front of you.

you glance up, confused. “what’s this for?”

Ford takes his seat again, tapping a finger against the cover. “do me a favor, darling. write down five things about yourself that have nothing to do with your job.”

your face looks tired and skeptical. you stare at the paper. “Ford, i—“

“anything,” he says softly, smiling at you. “everything. what you love. what you’re good at. what excites you, what makes you feel something. what matters to you.”

your fingers tighten around the pen. at first, you don’t know where to start. but Ford doesn’t rush you, just patiently sits beside you.

so you write. you write about the things that make you you. and at first, it feels stupid and awkward. it starts small, your favorite books, your favorite songs, the way you love thunderstorms, the way you always make extra coffee just in case someone else wants some.

but then it gets bigger. the things you’ve created. the things you’ve learned. the times you were kind when no one was looking. the people who love you, who see you. the way you keep going, even when it’s hard

Ford watches as you write, nodding approvingly at each entry.

“now tell me: did losing your job take any of that away?”

you stare at the words. the little pieces of yourself you hadn’t even thought about in the wake of everything. softly, you shake your head

Ford’s expression gentles. “then you’re still you. and you’re still worth just as much as you were yesterday. because no job, no institution, no single event defines you.” you swallow hard. Fords voice drops lower. “you are more than what you do, more than what you produce, more than what some company decides you’re worth. you are your thoughts. your curiosity. your kindness.” he gestures to the list. “you are all of this and nothing can take that from you.”

your breath wobbles. Ford’s gaze softens further. “come here, sweetheart.“ you hesitate but only for a second, then stand and he meets you halfway, arms wrapping around you. and Ford isn’t Stanley, isn’t someone used to giving big, open, thoughtless affection. but what he lacks in ease, he makes up for in intent.

because he means this. his big hand moves up and down your back slowly. “you’re not alone in this,” he murmurs into your hair. “we’ll figure something out. and until then. . . you are still extraordinary.“ his voice is so certain, and suddenly you don’t feel quite as lost.

“th-thank you” you bury your face in his sweater, hands gripping his sleeves

“and don’t let anyone ever tell you you aren’t smart or brave or worthy enough.”

you stay there a while. until Ford gives your shoulder one last squeeze and pulls back, adjusting his glasses. “now. i assume you haven’t eaten?”

you smile at him, shaking your head. “no, wasn't in the mood.“

“come, sweetheart, let’s fix that.”

[back2bluesidex]

To Be Popular - JJK [Chapter 2]

Pairing: Social Media Influencer! Jungkook X Marketing Manager! Reader ft. Yoongi

Summary:

You love everything about social media - apart from the ever-growing number of social media influencers. You don't understand how these people gain followers and admirers just by installing a camera and doing very basic things in front of it. And you despise how some of them can do anything to gain fame, to be popular - even if it includes uploading their bedroom scene in pornsites aka people like Jeon Jungkook. But when your company launches a new product and your department head tasks you with signing Jeon Jungkook up as an endorsement partner - you have no choice but to chase him like the corporate slave that you are. However, things turn worse when you embroil in a dating rumor with him and have to keep the game going for the sake of everything. is it really for the worse or things will turn in a way you never expected it to?  

Theme: Strangers to lovers au, fake dating au, kind of enemies to lover au, angst, smut, fluff.

Full Series Word Count: 26k

Chapter word count: 6.4k+

Warnings: flirting, argument, kissing that's all.

Masterlist | Patreon (For access to the complete series)

Minors, I am not responsible for what you consume online. So, act more rationally and stay away.

Chapter index: -

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |

Drabbles: Imposter in the club,

Or read the full series right away on Patreon!!

Only twice in your life did you have the need to sign contracts. 

First time was your employment contract, the second time was your house lease contract. 

The third contract turns out to be something that you didn’t even have the wildest dreams about - a dating contract. 

That too, with a person you seemingly get irked by very often. 

You have gone through the documents almost every day this past week, so much so that now you can recite the terms and conditions as fluently as your phone number. 

The contract is pretty standard if you are being honest. There is only one term that you added: “Kisses are not allowed”. And it seems like both Seokjin and Jungkook have no issues accepting your only term. 

However, your hands feel clammy all of a sudden when you are about to sign the papers. The thoughts of being under the limelight scares you. 

And being Jeon Jungkook’s girlfriend means a lot of limelight in social media. 

“You okay?” Kim Seokjin asks, perceiving your hesitation in signing the papers. 

“Yeah.. I am just.. You know… don’t know what to expect from all these.” you voice. 

Seokjin places an assuring hand on top of yours, with a little squeeze he says, “you can trust me, Y/N. I will do my best to keep your private life private. Jungkookie is not a bigshot anyway but yes I know there are risks of privacy breach, which will be my department to handle.” 

You feel an odd sense of relief injected by the man’s silver voice. 

But it seems like you spoke too soon because, “what’s up you two?” Jungkook appears from nowhere. He eyes the place where Seokjin has his hand on top of yours and narrows his eyes at you. 

“You are late.” Seokjin directs his authoritative voice towards Jungkook. Jungkook sits down on the chair beside him and starts chugging down water. His Adam's apple bobs like a sin. 

You distract yourself from the scene by signing the papers finally. 

“Now it’s your turn.” Seokjin extends the paper towards Jungkook, who without a second thought takes it and signs it. 

For a moment you wonder how he manages to stay disconnected from every worry? 

You are as much of a stranger as he is to you. But still, he didn’t hesitate to sign like you did. Maybe this is another reason why you dislike Jeon Jungkook? Because he gets to be care-free while you have to care for every single move you make. 

See for an instance - once you dared to pull an act of bravery and it landed you on a dating deal with Jeon Jungkook. 

How fucking funny!

Your fingers tap on your laptop keyboard as you open the email sent by Jungkook’s agency. It’s a full fledged schedule for your and Jungkook’s first month of appearance. 

And that starts tomorrow. 

As for tomorrow, you will have to visit a cozy cafe with your supposedly boyfriend and get caught by paparazzi. Once you become talk of the media then the company will go ahead and publish an official statement. 

Things will continue like this for five months. During the sixth month your appearances will slow down and at the beginning of the seventh month, the agency will confirm the break up. 

Sounds pretty clean. 

During these seven months Jungkook will be done with the endorsement deal with your company as well. Hence, there is no need of working with him afterwards, which is a pleasant news to be honest. 

So now that you are already in the mess, you should as well taste the water and see what it brings for you. 

“You sure will be okay with it? Do you want me to tag along and keep an eye?” Jimin’s concerned voice rings in your ear. 

You are so thankful that the universe gifted him to you in the form of a best friend. From high school till now, there was hardly a day when Jimin didn’t text you, asked what you were up to, let you know what he was doing. 

He is that one friend who never got away. 

“I will be fine. Don’t worry. Go and enjoy your time, do something fun.” you add. No matter how tempting his offer is, you don’t want him to ruin his Sunday to look after you while you are on a playdate. 

“But Y/N-” 

“Jimin, I will be fine! I will keep updating you, okay?” 

He sighs on the other side making you chuckle. “Okay. but do keep me updated.” 

“Yes. appa. Yes.” 

You check yourself once upon cutting the call.

Yeah, you look presentable. Hopefully paparazzies won’t have any issues with your sober dressing sense. 

Once again your head bobs in the direction from where Jungkook’s car should be emerging. But you find none. 

He is late. 

Great. Another reason to hate Jeon Jungkook. 

Just when you are about to pluck your phone out and throw a text towards him, you hear the rumbling sound of an engine. 

More specifically the sound of Jungkook’s bike. 

He comes to stop where you are standing under a bus stop shade and extends a helmet towards you. 

You are way too busy grasping that you miss the object being offered to you. 

“Do I have to ride this with you?” you point at his bike. 

“It’s called a bike. And yes, you are going to ride it with me.” Jungkook thrusts the helmet towards you again. 

“Thanks for letting me know what it is called. But are you sure I will be in functioning condition by the time we reach?” 

“Don’t worry, my dear girlfriend, I will take care of ya.” he gives you a cheesy grin. 

If something flips inside your chest, then it’s better to put off the subject and focus on the fake date ahead. 

So, you put on the helmet, hop on his bike, and place your hands on his shoulders. 

“Be careful, it's hot down there. Spread your legs a little more.” Jungkook warns. 

You know, it’s about the bike but the implications of his words sets your face on a battle of blush. 

Managing your gut and composure you reply with an affirmative sound. 

“Did you… cut your hair?” Now that Jungkook has stripped off his helmet and is sitting relaxed before you, you can see the difference in his hairstyle from what you saw yesterday. 

“Yeah. All by myself. I even live streamed it. How do I look?” You can see Jungkook’s face lighting up as soon as you mention his new hairstyle. 

“You look like a twelve year old. Cute.” and you are genuine with your words. He looks less mischievous and certainly not like someone who would fuck on camera.

The tip of his ears turn pink when he registers your compliment. 

Clearing his throat a little he says, “what should we order?” 

“A flat white for me. And that cheese cake, strawberry one.” you say, awkwardly peeking at the menu, which is currently under Jungkook’s scrutiny.   

You hear him chuckling and when you follow that sound, you find him staring down at you. His crinkled eyes, baby-like fringe, bunny-teeth on display and that beautiful smile makes him look like a completely different person. 

He doesn’t look like the Jungkook you used to dislike. 

And that spreads something warm under your skin. You start smiling at him without noticing yourself. 

“Isn’t that Jeon Jungkook?” a second female voice comes from a little distance. 

“Oh my god. Yes. and who is he with? Isn’t he dating that bully girl? Doona or Dana?” 

“What? No. didn’t you see his viral videos from the club? That girl is his rumored girlfriend. They seemed to have a fight that night but I guess they are good now?” 

“Oh really?” 

Even though the spectators are trying to be discreet and silent with their gossip, they are anything but. 

When you look in their direction, your eyes lock with one of them. She quickly turns away and types something on her phone. 

Something reaches out for your hand that is placed on the table top. 

It’s Jungkook’s own hand. 

He wraps his big palm around yours and interlaces his fingers with yours. With a sickeningly sweet smile he says, “the act has started, we should jump into characters now.” 

You tighten your fingers around him and reply, “of course we should.” 

However, you are still unsure about where you will be after six months of this play. Will you be friends with Jeon Jungkook? Or will you end up being more?  

“But how did you let Kim Doona come between you two if you were seeing each other?” 

By the time you and Jungkook managed to come out of the cafe that day, it was already a mess. At least ten different people were trying to get your face properly, five others were trying to get a shot of your and Jungkook's intertwined hands and others were clicking pictures not-so-secretly. 

By the time you were home, your photos were all over Jungkook’s fandom’s insta profiles. 

And when the bomb (aka the official statement from the agency) dropped, your phone flooded with questions after questions.

You didn’t answer any. 

Nonetheless, the questions reappeared, this time directly, as soon as you stepped into your workplace on Monday. 

And this question in particular - it was the mostly asked one and you were ready for it. 

Your colleague nudges you again, “come on, tell me, why did you let him fuck the other girl if you were dating him?” 

“I wasn’t dating him back then.” you reply confidently, of course you had your own share of practice. “We used to be friends. But you know… friends with feelings. So yeah.. I was kinda pissed at him.” 

She makes an O shape with her mouth. 

“Is that why you lashed out on him during the meeting? I mean I heard that you…” she doesn’t end her sentence. 

These people really work less and gossip more. You nod. 

“Who confessed though? You or him? Oh- wait! Did you confess at the club? Is that why you two were seen fighting?” she throws her rapid-fire questions at you. 

But you are pleased. It worked out the way you wanted. You didn’t have to tell the story, she completed it all by herself. 

“Yup.” you popped the ‘P’ very enthusiastically. 

“Wow! You are living a fan-fiction, girl, a proper friends to lovers au.” she squeals in her seat, “mind if I post the story on my insta? I wanna use my colleague privilege card.” 

You think for a moment. If she spreads the story herself, it will be better for you. You won’t have to recite it all again and again. So you murmur a little “go ahead” and let her click a selfie with you. 

Your computer dings with a notification from Yoongi. He is asking you to come to his cabin. 

Great. Another round of interviews. 

“I just checked the campaign schedule. It’s efficient as always. Good job, Y/N.” Yoongi’s praise brings a smile to your lips.

You murmur a little thank you with a small smile playing on your lips. 

Every time Yoongi praises your work, your insides flip. But sometimes you wish for those praises to come as ‘you look good today’, ‘your dress looks nice’ and stuff like that. 

Even though that brings a sinking feeling temporarily, that doesn’t stay for long. 

“By the way..” it’s coming, it’s coming, “how did you and Jeon Jungkook end up together? As much as I can assume, you two met each other during the meeting for the first time.” 

This. This is not what you prepared yourself for. 

You didn’t think Yoongi would be too interested in knowing your relationship history, so you wouldn’t have to explain anything to him. But not only is he interested, he seems to be pretty observant of things as well. 

Now you can’t tell him the fake story you just told your colleague nor can you tell him that the entire thing is fake. 

So you clear your throat, “it just…. Happened.” 

“Just happened? You seemed to be pretty livid about his existence that day?” your cute manager gives you a lopsided smile. 

“But then you sent me behind him, to convince him or whatever. And things happened.” you turn your confidence up yet again. 

He quirks a brow at you, “things happened after that club incident, huh?” 

He is right. But not the way he is thinking himself to be right.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” you reply, as you collect the files with the details of the campaign and proceed to leave his cabin. 

“The photoshoot starts next week, don’t be lovey-dovey on the set.” he teases you on your way back. 

You only roll your eyes at the door. 

Second fake date is: hanging out at a bar after work. 

But you don’t drink on weekdays. 

So that lands you on a negotiation and the date is fixed on the Friday of the same week. 

You wait for Jungkook at the entrance of your work complex, a place where people would be able to see you getting on his bike very clearly. A strategy to make things public. 

But what comes to pick you up is not a bike but a car. 

A sleek black car that makes heads turn as it comes to stop in front of you. 

For a moment, you think the driver is mistaking you for someone else. 

But then the diver’s door opens and Jungkook comes out, wearing a black buttoned down with a pair of ripped jeans. 

Your eyes are now the size of saucers. 

You once gulp as you see Jungkook smiling brightly at you. 

“Hey baby. Sorry I’m late. Let’s go.” he says sweetly. And you wonder how good of an actor he is. 

“H-hi. It's okay. Yeah, let's go.” you reply in haste, trying to school your dumbfounded expression. 

You let him lead you inside the car with a hand on the small of you back. He lets every passerby see his face, under the street lights, as if he is very proud showing you off. 

Fake. It's fake. You remind yourself. 

“You know, you are a good actor.” you voice your thoughts once Jungkook settles inside the car, 

He chuckles, “yeah? Learned from Jin hyung. He used to be an acting major. Have been seeing him acting to be polite with his shareholders for all the years.” 

The fondness in his eyes at the mention of the other male is so clear. You can’t help but smile. You have perceived the same glow on Jin’s face too. 

“You two really adore each other, don’t you?” 

“Yeah. You can say that. I would be wandering around the streets of Busan if it wasn’t for him.” you hear the underlying darkness in his voice and decide to poke no further on this matter. 

“So, you are telling me that you made this story all by yourself? And this actually ended up making sense?” Jungkook is pointing at his phone, which has your colleague's insta post plastered on the screen. 

“I told you. I am good at my job. Moderating success stories is a part of our marketers’ job.” you shrug. Your shoulders are already a lot loose after a few drinks. 

Your head is on the cloud. 

You feel good. 

And Jungkook is being less cocky today, which is helping you relax even more. 

Jungkook hums, “Great. The act is going well so far.” 

Jungkook starts scrolling on his phone again, focusing on something very hard. After a moment of silence he says, “I won’t lie, we look good together.” 

There is a smug smile playing on his lips. 

You groan, “I thought you quit being cocky for this evening.” 

“Hey! I am not being cocky. Look at these photos.” he protests, poking his phone towards you. 

“I have seen those, Jungkook. And I don’t think I look good with you. You and I are totally two different individuals, from every single aspect. You match with someone like.. Like Kim Doona.” 

Jungkook’s eyes shut for a second, “there is no point of saying this now. I missed my shot with her because someone decided to barge in my perfectly comfortable and peaceful life.” 

“Wait. You had a thing for her?” you sit up straight on your chair. 

“I still do.” Jungkook empties his glass in a sip. 

You would have fought him and told him how you saved from a prolonged controversy, but you are feeling light-headed. You are feeling good. So you will be nice for just once. 

“Well… I am sorry then. I know how it feels to have an unrequited crush.” you sigh, recalling Yoongi’s pretty face, “sorry.” 

Jungkook seems to be caught off-guard with your changed demeanor. 

“It’s okay.” he adds, “you have a crush on that manager, don’t you?” 

The fuck? 

“How the fuck do you know this now?” your eyes go big for the second time today. 

“Come on, Y/N. Anyone with eyes can tell. The way you stiffed when he caught you and me at the parking lot.” he giggles. 

“Ok. That's enough. Let’s go home. I feel sleepy.” you stand abruptly from your chair, swaying a little (thanks to the alcohol in your bloodstream). 

Jungkook stands up too, wraps a hand around your bicep and mutters a small ‘careful’ in your ear.

“By the way… don’t you think you have to call a designated driver?” you ask on the way out of the bar. 

“Jin hyung has us covered.” he shrugs. 

On the way back home you look at the fleeting landscapes out of the car window. For some unknown reason… you feel upset. 

You had a pretty good evening. No matter how much you hate to admit it, Jungkook is a fun company. 

You two would bicker endlessly, then would slip into serious topics like economy and politics, and then all of a sudden you would talk about your favorite drinks. 

He really doesn’t seem like that Jungkook you used to dislike. 

But there is something that’s bothering you. And you can’t put a finger at it. 

The car comes to a stop in front of your apartment. You wave a quick goodbye to Jungkook, who has been busy on his phone all the way back, and climb out of the car. 

As you take small swaying steps towards your entrance, you hear the car door shutting loudly and then in turn Jungkook’s voice, “won’t you give me a goodnight kiss, girlfriend?”  

You don’t know what possessed you. It can be the alcohol, can be your bad judgment, can be the sinking feeling in your chest and the desperate need of feeling something, anything - that makes you turn around. 

You march towards Jungkook without thinking twice, standing chest to chest with him. 

All the mischief drains from his face when you grab him by the collar of his shirt and smash your lips on his. 

It should have been over in a second or two. 

But what's worse is that Jungkook is pulling you close by your waist and deepening the kiss already. 

Hope you don’t regret this when you are sober. 

There were twelve terms in your dating contract. 

You added one. 

And you breached that very one. 

The screen of your phone goes blank as you groan again for the nth time. Every time you open Instagram, all you see is you kissing Jungkook standing on the damn fucking road! 

You two were being followed by the paps that night, which was obviously a part of the plan, and you, being clearly too drunk to think straight, kissed Jeon Jungkook on his lips! 

And now those photos are circulating like wildfire. 

Jimin texted you, asking for a clarification. 

Seokjin texted with three teasing thumbs up. 

And Jungkook texted with probably a thousand of ‘ㅋ’s. 

All you want now is for the ground to split in half so that you can jump in there and die. That’s the best possible solution for whatever the fuck is going on in your pathetic excuse of a life. 

Your phone dings with another notification and you swear to turn it off if it’s another mention in another insta post or another threatening DM from Jungkook’s crazy fans. 

But it seems like the universe is trying to be even more cruel with you, because it’s a reminder of your schedule for the day - which is another date day with the root of your problems - Jeon Jungkook. 

And today, you will have to spend time at his home, click pretty selfies and photos together highlighting how domestic you two are and post those in social media from both ends. 

When you are about to go back groaning, you receive another notification. 

It’s a text from Seokjin, “the car will be there in an hour.” 

“Welcome to my home, girlfriend.” Jungkook grins stupidly as he spots you at his door. You really want to grab a frying pan and bang it on his stupidly round head. 

“Don’t call me that when there’s no one to hear.” you reply grumpily walking inside Jungkook’s luxurious apartment. 

You really want to know how much these influencers make monthly to afford an apartment like this. 

“I call you that for you to hear, baby.” His cheesy remarks are just too much to take, so you just roll your eyes at him. 

“Do you want anything? Tea? Coffee? Juice? Or maybe a kiss?” there he goes. 

This is what you were dreading! The moment you were sober enough to judge your actions, you knew Jungkook will be having a field day the moment he sees you. 

And here you go. 

But but but - you aren’t alone in this. You definitely kissed him first but he, too, kissed you back. So he needs to go down with you. 

“Oh why not, you definitely liked kissing me a little too much.” you bite back. But your words don't affect Jungkook at all. The smirk that he was sporting doesn’t go anywhere. It only grows more sinister. 

“Of course I did. Are you telling me you didn’t?” 

Now this is another thing that you were dreading to admit - that you actually enjoyed kissing him. His lips felt good on yours. 

But you have been trying to convince yourself that it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your veins, even though you know it’s nothing but an excuse. 

“Shut up!” you huff, hoping that Jungkook doesn’t notice the sudden rush of red on your cheeks, “let’s take some photos so that I can leave.” 

“What?” Jungkook is now genuinely confused and you can see it on his face, “Do you really want to leave? I thought we were cooking together? I decided to live stream it.” 

“Me and live stream? Are you kidding? There was no mention as such on the schedule plan?” you are sure all the colors of your face have drained with just one mention of a live stream. 

You hate being the center of attention. 

“Yeah but I improvised just as you did last day by kissing me.” Jungkook shrugs. 

Where the fuck is the frying pan? 

“Okay. I am leaving. Bye.” you haste towards the door. 

Jungkook giggles like a baby, grabbing your wrist and stopping you mid-tracks. 

“Okay okay. I am sorry. I promise not to tease you anymore if you say yes to the live stream.” 

“You promise?” you quirk an eyebrow facing him. 

“I promise.” 

You don’t even know if saying yes to Jungkook’s improvisation was a good idea or a bad one. 

There are reasons it’s both good and bad. 

Good because Jungkook is not teasing or unnecessarily being smug with you anymore. Bad because he is hovering way too close to your body for you to keep being sane. 

The kitchen is big enough, but half of the space is being used to put down cameras and a laptop. On top of that you two have to be crammed in a small space where both of your figures are being perfectly visible to the viewers. 

You are mostly quiet, playing your part, cooking as you are supposed to. 

But Jungkook is in his element. 

He is so natural in front of the cameras that it feels as if he was born to do so. 

Jungkook interacts with the viewers, reads their comments once in a while, smiles, laughs, and makes jokes. Under the light and darkness of the kitchen - he looks so youthful, so radiant that you feel a weird coil in your chest. 

Whenever he brushes past you, you get a whip of his perfume - an earthy, woody tone with a hint of citrus. 

His hair falls on his eyes - unmade - unlike all the other times you have seen him. 

This - whatever this is - you don’t like it. 

“Why is your girlfriend being so silent?” Jungkook reads a comment from the laptop. You pay half mind to him, occasionally smile a little. 

But within a moment, Jungkook slides behind you. 

He puts his big-ass hands on your waist, places his face on your shoulder and says, “baby, why are you being so silent?” 

If you are seeing things right then his lower lip juts out while he tries to coax an answer out of you. 

Your heart starts beating abnormally fast. 

“O-oh.. I- It’s my first time being in a live stream… so yeah.” you proceed to flip the omelet, focusing on the food and food only. 

“You guys heard that? She’s nervous. Don’t scare my girl away.” Jungkook fakes anger. 

You release the breath you were holding when he finally removes himself from you. 

You are now seriously afraid of the outcome of this fake dating contract of yours. 

“Hate to say this but” you take in a deep deep breath “this is actually very delicious. Good job." You point your chopsticks at the carbonara that Jungkook prepared. 

“Really?” he seems to be taken aback with your compliment “Thanks. Glad that you like it.” 

“By the way, you remember you have a shoot with us tomorrow, right?” you change the topic to a more serious one. 

“I do. Will your crush slash manager be there too?” his eyes stay boring in the carbonara. You honestly don’t know why Jungkook is curious about Yoongi all of a sudden. 

“Probably. Why though?” 

“Will try not to piss him off while acting.” he shrugs. 

You scoff at that “he won’t be pissed. He doesn’t reciprocate, you know.” 

“Are you sad about that?” Jungkook’s tone is a tad bit softer now. 

“Not really. It’s not that I am in love with him or something. It’s a stupid crush, and will go away with time.” 

“Have you ever tried asking him out?” 

“Not really.” 

“Then, have you ever asked him to hook up with you?” 

You choke on your omelet. 

“What- the fuck” you cough “no! Why would I ask him something like that?” 

“Why won’t you though? Don’t you want to have sex with him? I mean you like him, it’s only natural.” Jungkook explains matter-of-factly. 

“No. it’s not natural for me. I need to be at least friends with a person to have sex. And I am not friends with Yoongi. We barely even talk out of work.” 

“Oh.” Jungkook thinks for a moment “So that guy friend of yours - what was his name again… Jimin? Is he your…” 

“Oh my god, Jungkook! No! I am not currently sleeping with anyone. I have not had sex for like eighteen months.”  It's your frustration which is speaking now. 

“What? Wait! What are you? A nun?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide at your admission. 

Embarrassment eats you away, like you were eating the carbonara a few minutes ago, “I- I mean. I am not that horny.” 

“Then… Do you want to sleep with me?” 

At first you think you misheard it. So you stare at Jungkook with big eyes. 

His expression is rather serious and you hate how it affects you. 

“What did you just say?” you finally let your voice be heard. 

“You heard me.” 

“Jungkook, please stop kidding. This is not funny.”

“I am serious.” he sighs. 

“Look. I can’t go around and sleep for fun since we have an act going on here. You, too, seem like you need to blow off some steam. And honestly, tell me where is your benefit from all these? It’s your company that’s ripping the fruit, not you.” 

Jungkook’s words register in your brain. He makes perfect sense. You have no benefits whatsoever from all these. 

“It’s just an offer, you can decline it if you want but… we can- we can have some fun like adults. No one has to know, nothing will get fucked up since we are not even close to begin with.” Jungkook reasons. 

He is right. You have nothing to lose if things go down and this won’t be the first time having casual sex with someone you know. There is absolutely no risk, no feelings on the line. 

Should you really consider the idea? 

The scenes from that grainy video start clouding your brain. 

A tiny voice in your mind says, “why not?” 

“Then… Do you want to sleep with me?”

“It’s just an offer, you can decline it if you want but… we can- we can have some fun like adults. No one has to know, nothing will get fucked up since we are not even close to begin with.”

Jungkook’s words go round and round in your head. Things have been like that for the better part of the time following your departure from his apartment.

You don’t even know why are you thinking so much, you should have just bad-mouthed him, tell him to fuck off and go fuck himself but something has kept you from doing so. 

He was suggesting something genuinely and there was a point in his proposition. And above every logical expression - it’s true that you are touch-starved. It’s been way too long with you and your dildo only. You need a living object inside of you now. 

Also, Jeon Jungkook is just so hot and he fucks well - that much you know from that unsolicited video. So yeah… you could probably accept his proposal. 

The only thing that is keeping you from doing so is your heart. You don’t know what will you be left off with after you are done fucking with for five to six months. Getting attached to people easily is one of your biggest weaknesses. 

And getting attached to your fuck-buddies, that too to someone like Jungkook, won’t be too glorifying of a thing to do. 

A hand comes and sits on your shoulder blade, scaring you off of your own skin. 

You almost hit the intruder with your laptop. 

“Calm down, it’s just me.” Yoongi comes to your view. 

“Fuck! You scared me!” you finally calm down, put your laptop on the table as it was before. 

“Well it’s not my fault. My shoes were pretty loud against the floor you know? You were too lost in your head that you didn’t even hear me coming. What’s up?” He comes to sit down beside you - way too close to you. 

In other times you would start blushing right away but for some reasons, you don’t. 

And honestly you don’t even want to find out the reasons. 

“Nothing. Just rechecking the schedule and all.” you murmur, forcing your attention on the laptop screen. 

Yoongi hums, “Your boyfriend will come in time, right? Hope he is not one of those snobbish celebrity types.” 

Your boyfriend … The mention stirs something inside your heart. 

“He tends to get late but he is not snobbish.” you defend Jungkook and your actions shocks even you. 

“Oooohhhhh” Yoongi makes an amused noise “love really changes people, huh?” 

You don’t reply to him- everything is fake anyway. 

“There is a rumor going around that you two were acquaintances before? But you told me a completely different story. May I know what’s actually going on?” 

You sigh. You knew this was coming. And you prepared your answer. 

“Well, what I told you was right. But his agency urged me to make up those stories for, you know, reasons. So yeah that’s it. And I will trust you with this secret.” narrowing your eyes on him for the last part of the sentence, you emphasize your point. 

“Okay okay.” he heaves a laugh out of his chest. 

“But why is Min Yoongi suddenly so interested in my love story?” you are genuinely curious about his curiosity. He never pays any mind to any office gossip but now that it’s your turn he seems to be interested in every little detail. 

“Maybe I have reasons you don’t know?” he shrugs. 

When his words register in your mind your eyes widen. 

“W-what reasons Yoongi?” you finally voice seeing him getting up from the chair and heading towards the exit. 

“That’s useless now. Maybe I will tell you sometime in future, maybe I will never let you know.” his voice trails and then morphes into air as he leaves the room. 

Something sits in your chest uncomfortably. Is he hinting at something you wanted all along? Was this fake dating a mistake? Did it cost you something real? 

A migraine forms just before the shoot. 

“Annyoenghaseyo.” Jungkook greets the entire crew sweetly as he stands at the entrance of the studio. There are two other men with you, who are holding big bags, probably full of snacks and drinks. 

“I have brought some snacks for everyone. Since the shoot is going to take long, I hope you all have something to munch on. Also, hope you forgive me each time I make a mistake.” he flashes his bunny smile as he bows and gestures to his men to distribute the snacks. 

You can hear the crew oohing ahhing for his sweetness. You only roll your eyes - only if they know how big of an asshole he is.   

“Darling.” He comes close to you and stands before you, measures your expressions before enveloping you in a hug. 

Another round of oohhs and aahhs echoes in the studio. 

You fake the hug too. 

But obviously your body had to act weird around him. Your nipples pebble as his chest comes in contact with yours. 

You silently thank the pads of your bra. 

“Do I get an answer today?” he murmurs in your ear. His hot breath grazes your earlobes, erupting goosebumps all over your body. 

You clear your throat before pulling yourself out of his embrace.  

“Let’s get into work.” 

One credit you will give Jeon Jungkook is that he knows how to work. He is professional - nothing like what you expect from typical influencers. 

He reads the scripts attentively, takes suggestions from the PD-nim and the director, gives his input and doesn’t do re-takes after retakes. 

He makes things go smooth and easy and the shoot leads towards a culmination within the five hour mark. 

You need to update Yoongi about the shoot’s progress - so you take out your phone but just then, Yoongi walks in with another human being attached to his side. 

It’s Im Semi, Yoongi’s rumored girlfriend, also the heir of the company you work for. 

For most of the time you don’t pay any mind to her existence - that’s simply something having nothing to do with your business. 

But at times like this when she is attached to the man’s side, you supposedly have a crush on, you can’t quite ignore. 

Yoongi marches towards you, with that damned smile on his face. You force back a smile. 

Your mind reels back to Yoongi’s confusing words earlier. You must have made a mistake in analyzing. What a fool you are. 

“How’s everything going?” he questions. 

“Very well. Jungkook is doing a great job. In fact we are done with the shoot, they are only reviewing the shots now. As soon as that’s done, we can’t pack up for the day.” you keep your tone professional. 

“That’s great.” Yoongi chimes in, “You can clock out after this. Good job, Y/N.” 

“Thanks. Are you clocking out too?” you ask, eyeing Semi, who is busy staring at her phone. 

“Nah. I got a meeting.” Yoongi informs, “Gotta go back to the building. I can drop you on the nearest subway, if you want.” 

Semi’s head springs up as he regards Yoongi for a moment and then looks at you with a fake forced smile. 

You know she doesn’t like the idea. 

“It’s o-”

“Don’t worry, I will drop her.” Jungkook appears from nowhere and cuts you off. 

For the first time ever, you are actually grateful to him. 

“Ah yeah. He will drop me.” you shrug. 

“Cool. Should we go now, yoongi?” Semi speaks breaking the thin layer of tension that settled on the air. 

“Yeah. I guess. Bye. See you tomorrow.” Yoongi leaves you and Jungkook behind. 

“You okay?” Jungkook enquiries, once Yoongi is out of earshot. 

“Yeah, Fine. Are you done? Let’s go.” 

“So… I have thought about your proposal and it.. Doesn’t sound too bad.” Your eyes are downward, because if you are honest, then you are extremely coy right now and you don’t want Jungkook to witness that. 

You mulled for the entire ride back home. You thought and thought about what to say, how to say it. 

Now that Jungkook is standing before your apartment entrance, you took a chance of making it short. 

“Fuck really?” Jungkook sounds so shocked as if he didn’t expect you to say yes, “didn’t think you would accept it for real. But I am glad that you did.” 

You finally risk a glance at him. He is smiling. Your heart flips. You hate it. 

“So ah..” your ears must be red by now “do you- do you wanna come in?” you place your invitation. 

Jungkook’s smile vanishes. His face takes up a much darker expression. You know what it is. 

“I’d love to.” His voice dips an octave lower than the usual tone. 

 Now you gotta pray that you don’t regret this decision of yours. 

read the full series right away on Patreon!! (Start from part 8)

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[h0efor2ho]

Tutoring Temptation

Wonwoo X Reader

WC - 6.1k ( I got carried away )

TW - Nerd!Wonwoo, there is plot here with the porn, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex (wrap it kids) cream pie, Wonwoo is the sweetest ever.

You'v always been a pretty good student. Able to keep up a 3.6 gpa while still having a decent social life. That was till you entered advanced calculus in your second year of college. You just couldn't grasp it no matter how hard you tried to study. Your grades dropping down to a 3.2 gpa. Your parents threatening to pull you out of school if you don't get your shit together. "Stop partying and start studying" your mother said. So you did. Spending night after night reading your text book, looking over your notes. Turning down invitations to house parties. Even going as far as to record your class and watch it back later. That's when you noticed that the guy who sits in the front of the room seems to always raise his hand and always gets the answer right. The idea formed in your head right away. You'd ask him to tutor you. You desperately needed the help and you figured he knew what he was doing.

The next day you make your way to class early, waiting and looking as students file into the lecture hall. It doesn't take long before you see his head of dark hair enter the room and make a b-line for the front seat. You quickly make your was down the steps past people talking till your feet hit the bottom floor and turn to carry you right up to his chair. He's bent over, back angled toward you as he pulls things out of his bag. His shirt neatly tucked into his brown pants, with a blazer over it. He doesn't notice you at all. "Uhm hey..."

Shit, you dont even know his name. You try and think back to the videos from class, of your professor calling him by name when you raised his hand. You're drawing a blank. He spins in his chair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up at you. "Uhmm" you say again as you take in his features. He's not that bad looking for a nerd persay you think. "Wonwoo" he says snapping you out of your own thoughts. "huh" you ask.

"Wonwoo. My name. It's Wonwoo" he gives you a small smile. "Oh yea." you give him a small nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm bad with names. I'm also really bad at calculus. Which is why I'm here bothering you. I was hoping maybe you could tutor me?" you finish rambling and give him what you hope is not a cringy smile. Wonwoo tilts his head slightly, considering your request. His dark eyes study you for a moment before he replies, "I see. And here I thought you might be asking me on a date," he quips, his voice low and unexpectedly smooth. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by his playful response. "Oh, uh, no... I mean, not that you're not... I just..." you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for suddenly losing your ability to form coherent sentences.

He chuckles softly, seemingly enjoying your flustered state. "Relax, I'm just teasing. I suppose I could help you out. When were you thinking?" Relief washes over you. "Really? That would be amazing. I'm free pretty much any evening. Whatever works best for you." He nods, pulling out a small planner from his bag. "How about tomorrow night at 7? We can meet at the library." "Perfect," you say, trying not to sound too eager. "Thank you so much, Wonwoo. I really appreciate it." He gives you another small smile. "No problem. Just make sure you bring your textbook and notes." You nod enthusiastically, about to respond when the professor walks in and calls the class to order. You quickly make your way back to your seat, heart beating a little faster than usual.

As you sit down, you can't help but glance down at Wonwoo. He's already focused on the professor, his pen poised over his notebook. You find yourself wondering what he's like outside of class. Is he always so composed? Does he ever let loose? The lecture begins, but your mind keeps drifting back to your upcoming tutoring session. You try to concentrate, scribbling down notes and formulas, but your thoughts are a jumble of calculus and curiosity about your new tutor. The rest of the day passes in a blur. You barely remember your other classes, your mind preoccupied with preparing for tomorrow night. That evening, you gather your calculus materials, making sure everything is organized and ready. You even jot down a list of specific questions and problem areas you want to address. That night, you toss and turn, your mind racing with thoughts of complex equations and Wonwoo's unexpected charm. When you finally drift off, your dreams are a bizarre mix of calculus symbols and dark, knowing eyes behind glasses.

The next day drags on endlessly. You constantly check the time, willing the hours to pass faster. When 6:30 finally rolls around, you grab your backpack and head to the library arriving early, claiming a quiet table in the back corner. As you spread out your materials, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. The sound of approaching footsteps makes you look up, and there's Wonwoo, looking as put-together as always in a navy sweater and dark jeans. "Right on time," you say, trying to sound casual. He smiles, sliding into the chair next to you. "I'm nothing if not punctual. So, where should we start?" For the next hour, Wonwoo patiently guides you through problem after problem. His explanations are clear and concise, and you find yourself grasping concepts that had previously made you struggle. As you work through a particularly tricky equation, you can't help but notice how close he's leaning in, his shoulder nearly touching yours as he points out a crucial step. You catch a whiff of his cologne – a subtle, woodsy scent that's surprisingly appealing.

"See? It's all about breaking it down into smaller parts," he explains, his voice low and close to your ear. You nod, trying to focus on the numbers and not on the warmth radiating from his body. As the session progresses, you find yourself relaxing, even joking with Wonwoo about some of the more absurd word problems in your textbook. His dry sense of humor surprises and delights you, and you catch yourself laughing more than you have in weeks "You know," he says, leaning back in his chair, "you're not half bad at this when you actually focus." You feel a flutter of pride at his words. "Thanks," you say, smiling. "I guess I just needed the right teacher." Wonwoo's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you can see a spark of something behind his gaze. He clears his throat and glances at his watch. "We've been at this for almost two hours. Do you want to take a break?"

You nod, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles feel from sitting hunched over your textbook. "Yeah, that sounds good.” Wonwoo smiles “Maybe we could grab a coffee? I know just the place," He says, standing up and stretching. You try not to stare as his sweater rides up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin above his waistband. You follow him out of the library and across campus to a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away in a corner you've never noticed before. As you step inside, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans envelops you. The shop is dimly lit, with mismatched vintage furniture and local artwork adorning the walls. It's intimate and charming, nothing like the bustling campus coffee chains you usually frequent.

"This place is amazing," you say, taking it all in. "How have I never been here before?" Wonwoo smiles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "It's a bit of a hidden gem. I like to come here when I need to escape the chaos of campus life." You follow him to the counter, where a barista with long blonde hair greets Wonwoo by name. "The usual?" she asks, already reaching for a mug. "Please," he nods, then turns to you. "What would you like? Their lavender latte is excellent if you're feeling adventurous." "I'll try that then," you say, intrigued by his recommendation. As you reach for your wallet, Wonwoo waves you off. "My treat," he says. "Consider it payment for being such a good student today."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his gesture. "Thank you," you say, touched by his kindness. You follow Wonwoo to a cozy corner booth, sinking into the plush velvet seats. The soft glow of Edison bulbs hanging overhead casts a warm light across his features, softening the sharp angles of his face. You notice  things about him you hadn't before. Like a small scar just above his left eyebrow, and the fact that is hair is not black but a very dark shade of brown. "So," you say, breaking the comfortable silence, "What made you decide to major in math? I mean, you're clearly good at it, but there must be a story there." Wonwoo looks at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's always just made sense to me, you know? There's a beauty in the logic of it all. Plus," he adds with a wry smile, "it impresses people at parties."

You laugh, surprised by his humor. "I can imagine. Though I have to admit, I've never been to a party where calculus was the main topic of conversation." Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Then you're clearly going to the wrong parties. What about you? What's your major?" "Psychology," you reply. "Interesting," Wonwoo muses. "So you're studying the complexities of the human mind while I'm dealing with the complexities of mathematics." You're struck by his observation, realizing there's more depth to Wonwoo than you initially thought.

As you talk, you find yourself opening up about your struggles with calculus, your fears of disappointing your parents. Wonwoo listens intently, his dark eyes focused on you. When you finish, he leans forward slightly. "I understand that pressure," he says softly. "It's not easy living up to others' expectations." There's a vulnerability in his voice that surprises you. For a moment, you see past the composed exterior to someone who might be struggling with his own doubts and insecurities. "How do you do it?" you ask. "How do you make it all look so effortless?" Wonwoo's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Trust me, it's not effortless. I just... I've learned to channel my anxiety into my work. But sometimes, I wonder if I'm missing out on other aspects of college life."

You're about to respond when the barista approaches with your drinks. She sets down two steaming mugs, the rich, floral scent of lavender rising from your cup. You give Wonwoo a quick glance, and he nods in thanks, offering a soft smile. "Here you go," the barista says before retreating behind the counter. You wrap your hands around the warm mug, feeling the heat seep into your palms, a comforting contrast to the coolness of the evening. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, the warmth in your chest spreading. "This place really is great. Perfect for getting away from everything." Wonwoo nods, taking a slow sip from his own drink. He seems more relaxed here, away from the chaos of the main campus. "Yeah, it's one of my favorite spots. Feels like a little slice of calm." His eyes flicker to you briefly, an unreadable look in them before he shifts slightly in his seat, settling back.

For a few moments, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the ambient hum of the café filling the gaps between your conversation. You take a sip of your lavender latte, savoring the sweet, floral taste, feeling oddly at peace. "So," Wonwoo finally breaks the silence, his voice a little softer now. "You mentioned earlier that you're majoring in psychology. What made you choose that?" You think for a moment, your fingers tracing the rim of your cup. "I guess I’ve always been curious about what makes people tick," you say. "Why we do the things we do, how we make decisions, how we deal with emotions... There's just so much to learn, you know? It feels like there's always something new to discover." Wonwoo listens, his gaze thoughtful, and you can tell he's really taking in your words. "It’s interesting," he murmurs, "how you’re trying to understand people while I’m trying to make sense of... numbers. There’s something kind of poetic about it."

You smile, surprised at how well he understands. "I guess we're not so different after all, huh?" He chuckles lightly, leaning back into his chair. "Seems like it." His eyes meet yours for a brief second, a spark of something flickering in them. "You know, I didn’t take you for a psych major, no offense. It's just the only thing I knew about you before tonight was that you partied a lot. You chuckle, a little embarrassed. “Yea, I guess I gave off that vibe before I got serious about school,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. “I always had a good time, but I’ve definitely been focusing more lately. Trying to get things back on track. Your parents threatening to pull you from school does that to you" Wonwoo nods in understanding, his expression thoughtful. "It's good that you're figuring things out. College can be a balancing act. But you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t give up easily. I think you’ll get there."

His words, simple but encouraging, make you feel a little lighter, like the weight of everything isn't so heavy anymore. "I hope so," you say, taking another sip of your latte. "Honestly, it’s nice to talk to someone who gets it. I feel like I’ve been caught up in my own head lately, especially with everything going on at home." Wonwoo's eyes soften at your words. "You don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know. It’s okay to lean on people." He pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, "And sometimes it’s okay to take a break too." You look at him, really look at him for the first time since you’ve sat down, and for the first time, you notice that there’s more to him than just the quiet, reserved guy who aces every class. There’s a quiet strength in him, a kind of stability that draws you in.

"Thanks, Wonwoo. I really appreciate everything," you say, your voice sincere. He smiles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, and for a second, you can’t help but feel a little spark of something more between the two of you. Something you can’t quite place but that feels strangely warm and comfortable. "Anytime," he replies, his voice low and steady. "And hey, don’t worry. You’ll figure out calculus. But if you ever need someone to talk to... about anything else, I’m here." You smile, feeling a little flutter of gratitude. "I think I just might take you up on that."

The two of you sit there for a while longer, enjoying your drinks and the quiet atmosphere of the café, talking about everything from school to silly memories to your favorite music. You realize how easy it is to talk to him, how comfortable you feel in his presence. And even though you’re still not sure what exactly is happening between you two, you can’t deny that something is starting to change.  As the night grows later, the cafe begins to empty out, and you both realize it's getting late. You stand up, gathering your things, and Wonwoo does the same. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, a little reluctantly. "And for everything tonight. I feel like I actually get calculus now." You grin.

Wonwoo smirks, clearly pleased. "I’m glad I could help. Just don’t expect me to tutor you every night. I have my own assignments too." He says it with a teasing tone, but you can tell he’s enjoying this new dynamic between you. “I’ll take that as a challenge,” you reply, grinning back. "I hope you do." He replies as he opens the door for you. As you both step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of warmth linger between you, something subtle but unmistakable. The evening was a nice break from the grind of school, but there’s also this growing sense that maybe, just maybe, you’ve stumbled upon something more than just a tutoring session.

As you walk together back to campus, the conversation flows easily, the chemistry between you two undeniable. Wonwoo’s witty remarks and insightful comments seem to draw you in further, and you can’t help but find yourself eagerly looking forward to the next time you’ll see him, even though you try to play it cool. “So, same time tomorrow?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the excitement bubbling underneath. Wonwoo turns to you, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I think we can make that happen. But how about we meet at my dorm, I expect you to bring your A-game,” he teases, nudging you playfully with his shoulder “Deal,” you breath out.

The next day feels like it stretches on forever as you go through the motions of your classes, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wonwoo. The way he helped you the night before, the casual banter, and that lingering smile — it all replayed in your head in a loop. Something about him made everything seem easier, not just calculus, but the world in general. When evening finally rolls around, you find yourself feeling oddly nervous, though you try to brush it off as you gather your notes and make your way to his dorm. Your heart beats a little faster as you walk, the excitement of yesterday's conversation still fresh in your mind. 

As you approach the dorm, you see Wonwoo waiting outside, leaning casually against the brick wall, his arms crossed talking to Mingyu, the quarterback on the football team. He’s wearing a simple white tee shirt and gray sweatpants, his usual composed demeanor softer, somehow more approachable in this setting. When he sees you, he straightens up and gives you a smile that makes your stomach flutter, before dismissing himself from their conversation. You watch as Mingyu walks away as Wonwoo walks to you.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, a playful glint in his eye. You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.” You glance at his outfit. "Glad we chose casual attire today" you poke at him. He chuckles rubbing the back of his neck. "Yea I just got out of the shower, I was at the gym with Mingyu." You make your was up the flight of stairs. "I didn't realize you two were friends." You say as you follow him. "Yea we grew up together. He's the closest thing I have to a brother." As you step inside his dorm, it’s clear this isn’t your typical college living situation. The space is surprisingly neat and organized, with a few bookshelves lining the walls and a desk cluttered with notebooks and textbooks, but in a controlled way, as if it was a deliberate mess. There’s a sense of order to it, just like him. You hang up your sweater on the coat hook, take off your shoes, and take a seat on his bed. Wonwoo follows you into the room, his footsteps quiet on the carpeted floor. He grabs his textbook from his desk and then turns to face you. There’s a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observes you settling in on his bed. 

“You sure look like you’re comfortable there?” he asks, his tone teasing but still warm. He walks over and climbs up on the bed with you, close to you. "Comfortable?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. You smirk, leaning back slightly on your hands. "Very. I figured if I’m going to suffer through calculus, I might as well do it in comfort." Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head before sitting down beside you, placing the textbook between you both. "Alright, let’s get started then. No distractions this time." You nod, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that you’re sitting this close to him, the warmth of his body radiating next to you. You force yourself to focus as he starts explaining derivatives, his voice calm and patient.

The study session goes smoothly at first, but as the minutes tick by, you find yourself more aware of the way Wonwoo’s fingers move as he writes out equations, the slight crease in his brow when he’s thinking, the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he glances at you to check if you’re following along. At one point, you get stuck on a problem, groaning in frustration. "I swear, calculus was invented just to torture people." Wonwoo laughs, leaning in slightly as he looks over your work. "You're overcomplicating it. Look—" His hand brushes against yours as he reaches for your pencil, his touch brief but enough to send a tiny spark through you. You glance at him, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The air between you shifts, something unspoken lingering in the silence. He leans in slightly, eyes tracking your face. "It's all about perspective," he murmurs, his voice low and unexpectedly close. He's still holding your pencil, his fingers brushing against yours, and the simple act feels charged with an energy you can't quite explain. You can smell his cologne again, that same subtle, woodsy scent from the coffee shop, and it’s intoxicatingly distracting.

He doesn't pull away, and neither do you. The textbook lies forgotten between you, the complex equations blurring into meaningless symbols. His gaze flickers down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and you can see a flicker of something in the depths of his dark pupils – something that mirrors the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest. "You know," he says, his voice barely a whisper, "I never would have guessed you were so… focused." The word hangs in the air, loaded with a double meaning. You know he's not just talking about calculus anymore. "Focused?" you echo, your voice equally soft. He nods, his eyes still locked on yours. "Yeah. You seem… different than I expected." "Different how?" you ask, your heart pounding against your ribs. He hesitates for a moment, as if considering his words carefully. "More… intense. More… interesting."

A blush creeps up your neck, but you don't look away. You're mesmerized by him, by the way the light catches his glasses, by the slight furrow in his brow that suggests he's just as nervous as you are. "I could say the same about you," you reply, finally finding your voice. "I thought you were just… a genius. Turns out you're also… interesting." He chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Is that so?" You nod, unable to articulate the thoughts swirling through your head. You're acutely aware of the proximity of your bodies, the way your thighs are almost touching, the warmth radiating from him. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and you have the distinct feeling that something is about to change between you two.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Maybe… maybe we should take a break from calculus," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. "A break?" He nods, his gaze dropping to your lips again. "Yea. A break." He doesn't need to say anything else. You know exactly what he means. The calculus book slips off the bed and falls to the floor with a soft thud, unnoticed by either of you. His hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His touch is feather-light as it lingers in your hair, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs, his voice husky. You nod, your own voice lost somewhere in the sudden rush of adrenaline. "More than okay," you manage to say. That's all the confirmation he needs. His lips are soft when they meet yours, a tentative touch at first, as if he's testing the waters. But the kiss quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hand moves from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you instinctively reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss grows more urgent, more heated, and before you know it, you’re lying back against his mattress, Wonwoo hovering over you. His glasses are slightly askew, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him like this—disheveled and undone because of you— sends a thrill through you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, voice low, gaze searching yours. You nod, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Yes. I want this. I... I want you” He kisses you again, a searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You arch into him, your own hands exploring the contours of his back, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against yours. His lips trail down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, and you can't help the small moan that escapes your lips as he nuzzles your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin, and you gasp, clutching him tighter.

Your hands slide up under his shirt, your hands flat against the muscles of his back. It's not long before his mouth reaches the collar of your shirt. He pulls back, sitting on his knees as he looks down at you. "Can I take this off?" he asks breathlessly pulling on the bottom of your shirt. You eagerly shake your head yes "Please" you say. His hands make quick work of pulling your shirt off over your head, his hand coming down and sliding under your back. His hand gripping the clasp of your bra. "This too?" he ask's as his lips ghost over yours. You kiss him in response. His hand move quickly, undoing your bra before he pulls back from the kiss. 

He gently removes your bra, his eyes darkening with desire as they rake over your exposed skin. The cool air brushes against you, making you shiver with anticipation. He leans in, his lips finding your skin again. His hands roam over yourbody, his touch setting you on fire. You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips as he presses himself against you, the evidence of his desire hard against your stomach. You moan softly, arching into him, wanting more.

Your hands gripping the hem of his shirt and tug. "Off" you say breathlessly. "As you wish" he says, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his sculpted chest and abs. The evadence of those work outs with Mingyu. Your hands immediately explore the hard planes of his muscles, earning a low groan from him. He captures your lips again. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a hot, wet path to your collarbone. You arch your back, craving more contact. His hand slides down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You gasp at the intimate touch, your hips rising to meet him. His fingers find your core, already slick with desire. He groans your name, the sound sending a thrill through you.

He coats his fingers in your wetness before finding your clit. With deliberate strokes, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reactions. You writhe beneath him, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. "Please," you beg, your voice barely a whisper. He smirks, his touch becoming more insistent, pushing you closer to the edge. You grip the sheets, your body tensing as the pleasure builds. He leans down, his lips finding yours again, swallowing your moans as you shatter around him, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you come undone. He grips the top of your leggings, pulling down both them and your underwear in one swift motion till they are a heap on the floor.

 His hand moves lower, slipping two fingers inside you. You cry out at the sudden feeling, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them to hit that soft spot deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed, your hands gripping his sheets as he drives you wild. "More," you plead, your voice ragged. He slowly, adding a third finger and increasing the pace. The sound of your wetness fills the room, mingling with your moans and his groans. He leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The sensation of both pushes you over the edge again, your body convulsing as you come undone around his fingers.

He doesn't stop, continuing to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Your vision blurs, pleasure coursing through you. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his lips and tasting you. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He moves down your body, spreading your legs wide. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking and sucking your clit. You scream his name, your hands fisting in his hair as he drives you higher. His tongue lapping at your wet entrance,  his fingers gripping your thighs as he devours you.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire as he continues his assault on your senses. His tongue circles your clit, teasing and tormenting you. You can't hold back any longer, your body tensing as another orgasm crashes over you. He doesn't let up, not even when the tears start to flow. 

He finally pulls away, his lips slick with your arousal. He moves back up your body, his hard length pressing against your thigh. "How are you doing?" he ask's, concern shining in his eyes. "I need you to take then off now" you say as you push the waist of his sweats down his hips. He gives you a small chuckle before standing up and pulling his pants down. Your eyes widen at the site of his huge cock. This long and thick and has a head the prettiest shade of pink that currently is driping pre cum. He climbs baack ontop of you, pepering kisses along your skin till he meets your mouth again. 

You reach down, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly. He groans, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to regain control. But you're not done with him yet. You guide him to your entrance, "Please Wonwoo" you moan. With one smooth thrust, his cock is deep inside you. You let out a moan from deep in your throat as your eyes slam shut. He still's. "Hey, hey. Open your eyes  for me baby" he coos down at you. His hands pushing your hair out of the way, cupping your face. You peel your eyes open, finding his right above you. "Are you okay?" He ask's sweetly. Your chest filling with warmth. "Yea" you whisper out. "Do you want me to stop?" He starts to raise up on his arms. "NO" you say gripping onto his arms to stop him. "I just needed a minute to adjust. Your big Wonwoo" you watch as a blush creeps across his face, joined by a smile. 

"You are going to be the death of me aren't you" he laughs "And you will be for me if you dont move" you push your hips forward to get your point across, instantly regretting it as you feel him nudge inside of you. A moan slipping from both of your mouths. In response he starts to move his hips. Slow and cautious at first, but your sounds quickly spur him on. He picks up the pace, growing more confidant as he watches you chant his name with each thrust. Your hands gripping the sheets to keep yourself grounded as the coil in your stomach tightens. Wonwoo leans down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. "You feel so good," he whispers, his voice rough. His fingers lace with yours, pinning them beside your head as he thrusts into you. The room filled with the wet sounds of his hips meeting yours, your small gasps and moans and his grunts every time you tighten around him. 

"Wonwoo," you whimper, your back arching as the pleasure coils tighter inside you. He presses his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "I’ve got you, baby." His thrusts grow deeper, more deliberate, hitting that perfect spot. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. "You’re amazing," he breathes against your lips, his voice trembling as he fights to make this last. But the way you feel around him, it's unraveling his control. His free hand trails down your body, tracing over the curve of your waist before slipping between you, finding your clit and making  your breath hitch. He starts with tight pressured circles. "Wonwoo, I—" Your voice breaks as you're vaulted over the edge. Your wall tightening around him as you release all over his cock. His movements turning erratic as he chases his own release behind you, burying hims cock deep inside you as he shudders with pleasure. Spilling deep inside you. 

His body collapses onto of you, staying buried deep in you. He presses gentle kisses along your jaw, his touch now featherlight, a stark contrast to the intensity from moments ago. "You okay?" he murmurs, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your hip. You nod, a blissful smile stretching across your face. "More than okay." He chuckles softly, rolling onto his side and pulling you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling safe, cherished. "I have something to tell you" he says as he kisses the top of your head. "okay" you say hesitantly, fear creeping into your mind at what it could be. 

"I have had a little crush on you for a long time now." He says voice just above a whisper. "But I'v been to scared to ever approach you. Afraid you wouldn't want to be with someone like me" Your breath catches at his confession, your heart squeezing in your chest. You pull back just enough to look up at him, your fingers tracing soft patterns over his chest. "Wonwoo," you whisper, his name a gentle reassurance on your lips.

His eyes flicker with vulnerability, a rare sight that makes your heart ache. "I didn't know how to approach you. You were always hanging out with the popular kids." he says "it felt like we were in two different worlds." You look up at him thinking back to just last week and you could see how that could be. "Well we're not anymore" you say kissing his chest. He laughs "Your right, so if I were to say ask you out on a date this weekend, your answer would be?"

You grin up at him, your fingers still tracing lazy circles against his skin. "I’d say yes," you murmur, watching as relief washes over his face, quickly replaced by the softest smile you've ever seen from him. "Yea?" he asks, as if he can’t quite believe it. You nod, tilting so your face is closer to his. "Yes, Wonwoo. A thousand times yes." you ghost your lips over his. His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It’s different from before. Less urgency, more depth. Like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you fit against him. When he pulls back, his eyes shine with something deeper than just desire. "Guess I should start planning the perfect first date, then," he says with a soft chuckle.

You smile, nuzzling into his chest. "Yea I guess you should."

Dividers by @strangergraphics

[fangirl-writes]

Insufferable

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): Kissing, weed smoking, no swearing in this one surprisingly.

Request: Hi! I notice you haven't posted in while, so it's chill if you don't get to this request. I just really like your fics. I was wondering if you could write a JJ Maybank x Reader from the perspective of the Charleston episode in season 2? I was thinking J and reader are in a relationship already, and most of it's just them talking and bantering with Pope and Kie, and maybe cuddling/giggling/kissing on/in the truck? I think it'd be cute! Love your stuff!

Notes: This was fun. Usually these fics have more of the actual plot going on that I have to weave in and out of, but this one I was able to keep it to the one scene or so scene that was requested.

There were a lot of worse situations to be in.

Sitting in the back of Pope's dad's truck on the ferry on your way to Charleston and passing a blunt back and forth with JJ was pretty good, all things considered.

Pope and Kie were perched on the tailgate while you and JJ's backs were against the window.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" JJ said.

"You talking to me or the weed?" you joked.

"Oh, you're beautiful, too, baby," JJ joked back, blowing his smoke in your face.

You laughed, shoving him and stealing the blunt from between his fingers.

"Asshole," you said, affectionately.

"Can you two focus?" Pope said, frowning. "We're trying to clear John B.'s name here. And right now this letter's our best bet."

"Right. Stay on task," JJ said as you discreetly passed the blunt to Kiara. "That's why I love ya, Pope."

Kie took a hit before standing up and handing it to him. "Which Pope you gonna be today?"

Pope considered it for a moment, eyes darting between the blunt and Kiara's face. "I'm good."

He shifted back a little, folding his hands.

"I'm gonna try to stay focused."

"Good Pope," Kiara said, disappointedly taking another hit before passing you back the joint.

"Boring Pope," you joked.

"I'll take that," JJ said, reaching for the joint that you quickly pulled out of his reach.

Pope threw his legs over the side of the truck and hopped out of the bed, leaning against the side as you dangled it above JJ's head.

"Sit, boy! Speak!" you said.

"Arf!" JJ responded, biting at the joint like a dog vying for a treat.

You laughed, allowing him to grab it and scratching behind his ear playfully. "Good boy!"

"You two are disgusting," Kiara said, laying down on her back in the bed of the truck with her feet propped up on the side.

"You're just jealous," JJ said, inhaling deeply and opening his mouth to let the smoke fly out.

"Right, that's it," Kiara said, sarcastically, taking the joint and another hit.

JJ leaned over and began whispering in your ear, biting at your ear lobe a little, making you giggle.

"C'mon, baby, give me a kiss," JJ said, puckering his lips at you.

You and JJ were never shy about being affectionate, sometimes to the point of grossing the other pogues out if you got a little too lost in it.

But you were proud of your relationship with JJ and weren't afraid to show everyone who he belonged to.

Especially when tourons or kooks would leer at him at parties.

It was nice to walk up to JJ and kiss him square on the mouth and watch those other girls' jaws drop when JJ practically turned into a puddle at your feet.

You pecked his lips.

"Just because you've been such a good boy," you said, giggling.

Kiara was practically asleep and Pope had taken off on a walk somewhere, so you allowed JJ to kiss you a little harder for a moment.

"If you two are gonna suck face, could you at least have the decency to do it inside the truck?" Kiara asked, eyes still closed.

You snorted, pulling away from JJ with a laugh.

JJ smirked. "If we did that, you might not want to get back in it later."

You laughed harder and Kiara made a disgusted face before kicking JJ with her foot.

The bliss wouldn't last.

As always, the pogues encountered a bump in their road.

More specifically, Pope's dad's truck's radiator blew and they had to one: get it towed, two: get it fixed, and three: find someplace to crash for the night.

Which ended up being an empty patch of grass where they could park the truck and sleep in the bed.

Thankfully, Pope's dad kept the thing practically stuffed with blankets and towels you could lay out for a…reasonably comfortable sleep.

It wasn't a memory foam mattress or anything, but it wasn't so bad.

You cuddled up to JJ, laying your head on his chest and he put an arm around you.

"Looks like it's slumming it for you and me again, huh?" JJ mumbled, sliding his cap over his eyes.

You hummed. "Well, anything's better than that time you convinced me to sleep in the tree by John B.'s house. I had bark marks for a week."

"Yeah, that was my bad," JJ admitted, smiling a little.

"Doesn't beat the hammock, though," you said.

JJ hummed.

The hammocks that hung around the trees of the chateau were your and JJ's favorite cuddle spot, where you snuck out to whenever you could.

No funny business could go on in them though, unless you wanted to end up face down in the dirt…which may or may not have happened a time or two.

…What? Sometimes the two of you just can't keep your hands to yourselves.

You yawned.

"Good night everyone," Pope said, lying down.

You and JJ shared a look as Kiara leaned over and kissed Pope on the cheek.

"Good night," she said.

You snuggled a little closer to JJ and he tucked you carefully in his arms before closing his eyes and letting sleep take him.

"Wonder where John B. and Sarah are right now," he said, before finally drifting off.

[nonightingalesinberkelysquare]

WARNING FOR GOOD OMENS SPOILERS!!!!

FURTHER SLIGHT SPOILER WARNING FOR THE FOLLOWING BOOKS: The Bone Clock by David Mitchell, You Only Call When You're In Trouble by Stephen Mcauley, and Bibliomaniac by Robin Ince.

Edit: Photos by @polychromicron-persei-8 !!!!!

So I'm sure a lot of the fandom have seen the pictures posted by a very lucky fan who saw the production of good omens happening out in Scotland today!!

However what I'm not seeing people talk about is a hidden gem in the reblogs.

SOMEONE HAD MANAGED TO GET A PICTURE OF THE BOOKS IN THE WINDOW!!!

Naturally, I had to go and do my research to see if these books give us any clues or serve any other purposes other than decorative purposes

AND LET ME TELL YOU

These are the the books visible in the window:

I'll go through them one by one

(Please bear in mind, I haven't read any of these books personally!! The only information I have on them are the little bits I found online in a very rushed attempt at research!!!)

Okay firstly

"The Bone Clocks" by David Mitchell

Now, this is the one that I struggled to make sense of the most out of the three.

The story appears to follow a runaway teenage girl who is a "lightning rod for psychic phenomena." These visions are said to reorder reality and send her into a real life nightmare.

However,

It also states that there is a boy who eventually crosses paths with her and who's story "comes together in moments of grace and extraordinary wonder"

As I said, I've never read these books and the only link I could begin to make with this is the idea of a "supernatural being meets another supernatural being and what they can do when they're together defies anyone's wildest dreams" story, similar to what we have seen and could see in GO3.

The next book is where it gets FARRRR more interesting (in my opinion)

NOW

THE TITLE? INTERESTING ASF.

IS AZIRAPHALE IN TROUBLE? OR EVEN CROWLEY?

The quotes are literally taken from the amazon listing itself, but I'll just point out the bits that stuck out to me personally.

☆ "is it ever okay to stop caring for others and start living for yourself?"

And I'm skipping a HUUUUGE chunk of the story here so apologies

☆ "Tom does what he's always done - answers the call."

☆ "Thus begins a journey that will change everyone's life and demonstrate the beauty or dysfunction (or both?) of the ties that bind families together and sometimes strangle them."

THAT LAST QUOTE REALLY STICKS OUT TO ME. Personally, I'd say that could possibly relate to the heaven and hell divides?

But furthermore, we were told prior to the whole NG situation that Aziraphale and Crowley aren't talking.. so could that mean that as soon as they begin speaking once again, they have the power to leave heaven and hell behind? Perhaps stop the divides?

And last, but certainly not least

Now, keep in mind that this particular book is nonfiction and appears to be written from the authors own point of view as he aims to visit 100 bookshops in 100 days.

This has a relatively short description from what I can see right now so I'll put it in here

"Bibliomaniac takes the reader on a journey across Britain as Robin explores his lifelong love of bookshops and books - and also tries to find out just why he can never have enough of them.

It is the story of an addiction and a romance, and also of an occasional points failure."

This one interested me SO much because it SCREAMS Aziraphale character development sort of thing? You know?

I really struggled to find any spoilers for this one whatsoever but one website did mention the author's love for vintage books, which he only ever reads as and when, as opposed to focusing on just one book.

I just thought this was SO SO SOOOOO interesting, and if anybody has any differing thoughts/interpretations or has even read the books, the comment section is a safe space to do so!!! All theories/suggestions are welcomed (any hate WILL be blocked, don't test me).

OR MAYBE THIS ALL MEANS NOTHING AND IM JUST CLOWNING FAR TOO HARD?!??!??!

[finelinevogue]

talk to me

summary - aaron is vulnerable after his family is taken from him, only you are brave enough to confront him

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau-gf!reader

word count - ~1k [very angsty…not my usual happy writing]

“Why hasn’t he killed himself yet?”

The same question ran through your head over and over again, like it was some godforsaken lyric you couldn’t stop repeating.

Only it wasn’t a lyric.

It was something Hotch had said on a case today.

Granted it was about the unsub you were catching, but you couldn’t stop going over and over the double meaning to his words. You couldn’t stop wondering if that was Hotch’s cry for help.

You were currently driving to his apartment.

It was rough for you and Aaron right now.

Aaron getting stabbed was traumatic enough for you, but for Aaron to go through that as well as losing his family and all control? It was devastating.

You and Aaron had been together for over a year, making it work with being in a relationship whilst balancing his role as a dad. Aaron was doing the extreme best he could and you were so proud of him.

But you could see the emotional toll it had taken on him these last few weeks since the incident.

It was so clear that Aaron believed he was a terrible father and he was punishing himself for it.

You were really worried about him. You cared for Aaron a lot and it was heartbreaking to think that he was keeping such self deprecating thoughts to himself. He should know better.

You pulled up outside his apartment and quickly went into his apartment.

It didn’t take long to climb the stairs and reach his door.

You hesitated.

What if you were overthinking? What if he was actually alright and by you confronting him would just plant doubting seeds?

Swearing to yourself, you knocked.

A minute later and Aaron undid the latch and opened up.

“Hey?” He clearly wasn’t expecting you.

“Hey.”

“You coming in?” He opened the door wider.

“You’re not going to ask me why I’m here?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest accusatorially.

“Do I need to question why my girlfriend is visiting?” He furrowed his brows.

“You normally would,” You answered, “But you already know why I’m here.”

You pushed past him and walked into his apartment. This conversation was not meant for the listening ears of everyone on Aaron’s apartment floor.

He closed the door with a sigh and clicked the latch again.

Aaron came and stood near you, hands on his hips as he awaited your next move. You could tell by his body language that the direction this conversation was moving in was making him really uncomfortable.

Well that was fine with you.

“So…”

“So what?” Aaron looked down at his shoes before looking back at you.

“We promised never to profile each other.” You said.

“And yet here you are.” He challenged you.

Aaron was getting defensive and you hadn’t even started the conversation yet.

You knew that getting through to him would be hard but you sometimes forget how many solid walls and foundations this man has built around himself. One chisel at a time might not be enough.

“Don’t do this, Aaron.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Push me away!” You shouted, flailing your arms up.

“I’m not…” Aaron looked off to the side.

“Aaron. I know you better than you think I do. Don’t push me away when I’m trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help.” Aaron said bitterly, still not raising his voice. Sometimes his cold shoulder was worse than his angry tone. You’d seen strong-willed men crumble at their knees under Aaron’s glare.

“Stop being so stubborn.” You groaned.

“Well stop profiling me.” Aaron bit back.

“I’m not profiling you, Aaron. I’m simply being a good friend. I’ve noticed that my boyfriend is constantly sad and says things that make me… nervous - that’s not profiling.”

“Stay out of my head.” Aaron warned.

There was no going back from this.

If he broke up with you then so be it, but you weren’t taking any chances. Not when Aaron’s mental or emotional stability was on the line.

“What did you mean today when you said, ‘Why hasn’t he killed himself yet?’ Hmm?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Aaron shook his head, “I said stay out of my head.”

“Were you asking it about the unsub…”

“Don’t.” Aaron shook his head.

“Or were you asking about yourself?” You questioned the one thing that had been constantly on your mind ever since he’d said it.

“No.” Aaron shook his head, eyes tearing up slightly.

“Aaron, honey, it’s okay to be sad –.”

“I’m not sad, I’m devastated!” He shouted. It took every fibre of it being not to flinch and send the wrong message.

“Honey…”

“No. You want to truth? I’ve questioned what the point is anymore, of course I have. My son has been taken from me in the most cruel way possible and I can’t do a goddamn thing, so I’m sorry if I seem a little more sad than usual.” His words dripped with venom.

His breath was uneven and heavy after he’d finished, almost like he was holding himself back from letting out more.

“Is that it?” You said bravely.

Aaron’s gaze pierced yours. His honey eyes so focused that they had lost their spark.

“What?”

“You want to shout at someone? Then shout at me. You want to make someone cry? Then make it me. You want to punch a wall? I’ll stitch your hand up after. You want to cry? I’ll be here with the tissues.”

Aaron’s body physically deflated as you spoke.

You weren’t done yet though.

“You think that this is a burden you carry alone, Aaron. Well it’s not. Yes it’s your family that Foyet is targeting but you are not the reason that Foyet turned out to be the way he is. You are not solely responsible for his escape or any of his devious plans. So if you want to be devastated, then fine. In fact, I’d welcome you to show your heart on your sleeve for once. But don’t for one second think of doing something stupid. Not when I’m right here.”

Aaron dropped to his knees then head hanging low as his body shook from his tears.

You had hoped it would come to this. Not that you enjoyed seeing Aaron upset, but you appreciated seeing him be vulnerable with you.

It meant that he still felt safe with you.

“I’m sorry.” He kept repeating through his sobs.

You moved quickly to kneel on the ground in front of him, pulling his body into yours so you could hold him tight.

Aaron’s love language was physical touch, so physical touch you would give him. If he thought he was anything less than loved by you then you had failed as a partner.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

You kept reassuring him, keeping your hold tight on him whilst rubbing his back comfortingly.

<.><.>

[bonus]

You stayed on the floor with Aaron for over an hour.

He needed the time to cry and let everything out, whilst knowing he had someone next to him to keep him safe.

You had eventually both made it to bed.

Even though you didn’t have any of your work clothes here and your car was definitely violating parking rights outside, you couldn’t find it in yourself to leave Aaron. You didn’t want to leave him.

He was currently resting his head on your chest as he slept, his body breathing on heavily. You were sat up in his bed, stroking a comforting hand through his hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around you so you couldn’t be taken from him.

It had been a tough day, but you had reminded Aaron that there’s always a reason to keep going at the end of it.

[djarindroid]

Resurfacing

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Reader

Summary: After Su-Bong's last visit will you ever see him again?

Warnings: mentions of drug use, brief mentions of gore

Word Count: 1,951

Comments: Apologies if there are mistakes, I've tried to proofread but I've been super ill this weekend and I'm a bit out of it 🤧

<- Part Four

You told yourself you did the right thing. He wasn’t himself, and letting him stay would’ve made things worse. You were protecting him as much as yourself. He had to understand that, didn’t he? 

Still, no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself that it would be okay, you couldn’t shake the bad feeling that had settled over you the moment he walked out the door.

The worst part was you didn’t know if he regretted it, or if he even remembered what happened.

In the cold light of day, you couldn’t help but wonder what it all meant. Maybe he didn’t mean any of it. Maybe it was just the drugs talking. It had felt so real- the way he looked at you, the sound of his voice as he called you baby, the touch of his hand on your cheek. Was it real? Or just another night he’d forgotten?  

The thought made your stomach twist with uncertainty.

You forced yourself to go to work the next morning, unsure if it was a blessing or a curse. The distraction helped, but every few minutes your fingers twitched with the urge to check your phone, to see if he’d called - to see if he cared.

He hadn’t.

You tried to push it down, to focus on anything else. The rhythm of work, the chatter of customers, the busy routine. But the pit in your stomach didn’t ease.

Your boss must have noticed because, as the rush ended, she pulled you aside.

‘Are you okay sweetheart?’ She asked gently. 

You plastered on a smile. ‘Yeah, I’m just tired.’

She didn’t look convinced. ‘You’re quieter than usual today.’

You paused. You weren’t the type to just spill your problems to someone, but your boss had never been anything but kind. And maybe saying it out loud would make it feel less like it was swallowing you whole.

‘It's just my…friend. He left on a bad note yesterday and I haven’t heard from him at all today.’ You were careful to keep the details vague.

Your boss leaned against the counter and hummed knowingly. ‘The friend that walks you home?’

You nodded.

She gave you a small understanding smile. ‘Sweety, maybe you need to reach out to him first. I’ve been around long enough to know that if someone matters to you then it’s better to talk it out.’ She continued, placing a warm hand over yours. ‘Call him. Otherwise you’ll worry yourself sick.’

Her words stuck with you through the remainder of your shift. By the time you left you were done debating with yourself. The second you stepped outside, you pulled your phone out and clicked his contact.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

Voicemail.

You lowered your phone slowly, staring at it as if that would will him to answer. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe he didn’t- … No. No more excuses.

You called him again.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

This time the rejection settled in you.

You gripped your phone so tightly that your fingers ached. The cold air nipped at you, but you barely noticed it compared to the hollow feeling taking over.

You shoved your phone to the bottom of your pocket and forced yourself to keep walking. You weren’t sure if you’d try again tomorrow.

Deep down, you wondered if he’d ever pick up.

The next few days blurred together, work, home, sleep. You’d tried calling again to no avail. Each time you were met with the same voicemail message, it felt like he’d built a wall between you. 

Eventually you stopped trying. Slowly, beginning to accept that maybe this was his way of saying goodbye without actually saying it. It hurt more than you’d care to admit, how easily he could just block you out.

Your apartment started to feel too big without him. You never realised how much he made himself at home. The way he took over your couch, or raided your fridge with no shame, or leaving half finished energy drinks on your table. Now it was back to being just you, and it felt lonelier than ever.

You spent evenings curled up on your couch, catching yourself glancing at the door more often than not, half expecting him to just show up. But he never did. 

You crawled into bed on the fourth night of no contact, emotionally exhausted, but sleep didn’t come easily. Thoughts of Su-Bong mixed with memories of the games circled around your mind, no matter how much you tried to push them away.

And then, at some point, your exhaustion won and darkness swallowed you whole.

At first there was nothing. Then the distant sound of screams filled the space around you. The air was suffocating, pressing down on you like a weight. 

A flash of movement caught your eye. Someone was there. A voice rasped out your name, it sounded oddly familiar. You tried to move towards it but the ground gave way beneath you. You fell hard, landing in something warm. When you looked down your breath hitched. The green numbered tracksuit clung to your body, soaked through with blood.

Piles of bodies surrounded you, their lifeless eyes staring straight at you. You tried to scramble back but something latched onto your ankle. A cold, lifeless hand. 

Panic surged through you as you kicked and thrashed but more hands reached out for you, dragging you into the darkness with them.

There was no way out.

You opened your mouth to scream…

And suddenly awoke with a jolt. Sharp breaths came quickly, your trembling hands gripped at your bed sheets. 

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it might break your ribs. You knew it wasn’t real, but the echo of the screams still rang in your ears. The panic still clawed at your chest.

Without thinking you reached for your phone, calling the one person who would understand what you’re going through. It didn’t ring long enough for you to even doubt whether he’d pick up.

‘Hey?’

At the sound of his voice you froze, fingers tightening around your phone. For days your calls had gone unanswered, you’d come to expect the sound of the voicemail. But now his voice sent a jolt through you.

‘Su-Bong?’ Your voice was quiet and disbelieving, as if you’d imagined him answering. 

There was a brief pause, you heard him shift and take a breath, then he was suddenly more alert. ‘What’s wrong? You okay?’

The concern in his tone shocked you almost as much as the fact he’d answered at all.

You tried to steady your breathing before carrying on. ‘I just, it was…’ you suddenly felt stupid, embarrassed that this was the way you two were finally talking again. ‘It was just a nightmare, I’m fine. Sorry for waking you.’

‘I’m coming over.’

‘No, you don’t have to-‘

‘I’ll be there soon.’

He ended the call before you could question him.

You stared down at your phone, breath still coming too fast. A cold sweat coated your skin, the fear still lingering. The images from the nightmare stayed sharp in your mind, refusing to fade completely.

But now something else was added to your nerves. Su-Bong was on his way over.

After the way he’d left. After four days of nothing.

Would you both pretend like nothing happened? Your heart continued to pound for a different reason now. You had no idea what to expect when he showed up. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it because before you knew it there was a light knock at your door.

You felt unsteady as you made your way to the door. You simply stared at it for a moment, your hand hovering over the handle, The last time he’d been here he’d disappeared without a word. But he’d actually shown up. He was here. You unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Su-Bong stood on the other side, looking slightly out of breath and as though he hadn’t slept much either with tousled hair and a hoodie thrown on haphazardly. He kept his distance, the space between you felt heavier than it should. 

Neither of you spoke at first, but his eyes searched yours like he was looking for something, like he was waiting. The memory of your last conversation clung to the silence. Now here he was, in your time of need. Like that last time hadn’t happened, like he hadn’t ignored your calls. Your throat felt tight. Should you say something? Should he?

Then, softly, he asked ‘You okay?’

You wanted to say yes, it was just a stupid nightmare, and apologise for calling him. But standing there, staring into his eyes the truth slipped out before you could stop it. ‘No.’

His expression shifted, but he didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you and wrapping his arms around you, firm but cautious.

He held you tightly, grounding you but there was something else. He was being careful, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to hold you like this. It was in the way his fingers hovered briefly before tracing soothing circles across your back.

His breath hitched when you clung to him. Gripping his hoodie like it was a lifeline. His touch became more sure, his warmth fully enveloping you. You finally felt safe as the memories of the nightmare began to fade away. 

‘It’s okay,’ he murmured into your hair. ‘I’ve got you.’

A shaky breath escaped you, and suddenly the weight of everything crashed down onto you. The nightmare, the four days of silence, the games. Your fingers curled tighter into his hoodie as tears stung your eyes.

You squeezed your eyes shut, but it was useless. A single tear slipped down your cheek, and then another. 

Su-Bong must have felt you shake, because he shifted slightly, pulling you closer. ‘I’ve got you,’ he repeated gently. 

That was all it took, your tears fell harder, there was no hiding the way your shoulders trembled or the way your breath stuttered against his chest. Su-Bong held you through it, continuing to rub slow circles across your back.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there before the tears slowed. But after a while your legs began to feel weak, noticing this Su-Bong gently guided you to the couch. He gestured for you to sit down, waiting until you did to settle beside you. 

‘You wanna talk about it?’ He asked.

And for a moment you weren’t sure if he was referring to the nightmare or to the last time you saw him. You knew you should probably talk about both, but not tonight.

Tonight you just wanted to enjoy the comfort he’d brought you, so you shook your head and remained quiet. 

‘Alright.’ He didn’t push. Just settled back into the cushions, like it was a normal night. As if everything between you wasn’t a mess of unspoken questions.

After a beat he reached for the tv remote, flicking it onto a random programme with the volume low. It was a distraction. A kindness. You focused on it for a while, letting it drown out the remaining thoughts.

Minutes passed before you realized he had draped an arm across the back of the couch, close enough that if you leaned just a little, you’d be against him. You hesitated for only a moment before shifting toward him. He didn’t react at first, but then you felt it—the way his fingers curled slightly, barely brushing your shoulder. A silent reassurance.

Neither of you spoke after that. You didn’t need to, not yet.

For the first time in days, the pressure in your chest eased.

-> Part 6 coming soon Series Masterlist

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