#like girl did you buy it?? no??? then it's not yours!!!!!

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

This part includes the Russian torture scene, so adding a warning for gore/violence just to be safe!

-----

Eddie comes by Scoops, once Steve gets the job there.

The first time, he laughs at the sailor hat for a minute straight until Steve rolls his eyes and calls back, “I'm taking my lunch!”

“Now?” Robin bitches. “Did you actually get a girl to fall for those ridiculous li-” She cuts off as she comes out of the back room and sees Eddie. “Oh. Huh.”

Eddie flashes a sharp toothed smile at her, and Steve rolls his eyes again and elbows him.

“I'll be back before the actual lunch rush hits this way,” he tells Robin, untying his apron and depositing it to the side of the counter.

To Eddie, he says, “Here, since this brought you so much joy,” and drops the sailor hat onto the top of Eddie's head.

Eddie gives a squawk and squirms around like he's trying to bat him off, though Steve notices he doesn't actually push him away as Steve adjusts the hat to his liking.

“There,” Steve says, shooting Eddie a teasing little grin as he steps back. “You keep that on the whole time, and I'll buy you lunch.”

“A small price to pay for a free meal,” Eddie says solemnly, but his eyes are crinkled a little like they do when he smiles, and he doesn't take the hat off the entire time they eat together.

—

He and Eddie sit out back behind Scoops, passing a cigarette back and forth. It's the end of Steve's shift, and technically he doesn't have to stay anymore, but he's not in a hurry to get home.

Dustin's away at camp, after all.

“Why the hell are you working here?” Eddie asks, sounding like he's been mulling it over for a while.

Steve snorts. “Needed to work somewhere.”

“Okay, fine, but haven't you done the lifeguard thing for like three years?”

Steve - didn't actually expect Eddie to know that, and he shoots him a little smile before he rolls his eyes. “Not a real job, according to my dad. It's just hanging out at the pool all day.”

Eddie scoffs. “Would your dad even know a real job if it bit him?”

“My dad's never really had to work for anything,” Steve mutters. “I didn't get into any of the colleges they wanted me to, so I needed to be taught a lesson. Pretty sure he was hoping it'd humiliate me.”

Eddie tips back, looking him over. “You don't look very humiliated.”

Steve shrugs. “Because I'm not. Yeah, sure, the outfit and the hat are stupid, but work is work. Ice cream makes people happy, I make people happy, it could be worse. Besides, he has no idea what I'm even making here. Every paycheck is a little more I can stash away where he can't touch it.”

Eddie's watching him very closely now, in a way that Steve's never seen before.

“How long have you been doing that?” he asks quietly.

“What, saving money that my dad doesn't know about?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.”

Eddie's face is serious - far more serious than Steve's ever seen him, than he thinks the situation warrants. Steve frowns.

“Since I got my first job, I guess? Anything I ask for from him comes with some kind of string attached, and I got tired of paying for it.”

Eddie's quiet again. “You've gotten in a lot of fights the last couple of years,” he says, slow and careful like he thinks Steve might bolt. “Lot of bruises.”

He clocks on to what Eddie's trying to get at, then, and a rush of relief washes over him as he hurries to set him straight. “Oh, no, my dad's not abusive or anything, just an asshole. He's never hit me.”

Eddie considers that. “Your dad can be an abusive piece of shit without ever hitting you.”

Steve licks his lips, takes his turn watching Eddie a little more closely. “Sounds like you're familiar with it.”

Eddie laughs, sharp and humorless. “Come on, man, you know who my dad is.”

“I know what people say about him,” Steve agrees. “But I've learned not to listen to rumors.”

Eddie flicks the cigarette butt off into the distance.

Steve gets out another one, puts it between his lips to light it. He takes a long drag, then - pulls his heart out of his chest, setting it between them before he passes the cigarette over.

Eddie's eyes drop down to his heart as he takes the cigarette, but this time he doesn't say anything.

Steve still doesn't ask to see his, even though he's tempted.

“You can listen to these ones,” Eddie says after a while. “They're mostly true.”

“You deserve better,” Steve tells him.

He looks over when Eddie doesn't say anything, finding him watching his heart. It's beating strong and steady.

“So do you,” Eddie says without looking up.

They sit in silence for a while longer, until the cigarette is gone.

Then Steve tucks his heart back into his chest and stands up. “Come on, I'll get us lunch.”

Eddie scowls at him. “You bought last time.”

“Yeah, but a conversation like that deserves a burrito bigger than your head, and I've got employee discount,” Steve counters, holding out his hand.

Eddie concedes, accepting his hand up.

—

Steve keeps making up excuses to buy Eddie lunch after that, every time he comes by at the end of an early shift or close to his lunch break on a later shift.

One day he gets them both pizza from Sbarro, and they sit at one of the sticky plastic tables in the food court. It's so small their knees knock together as they devour their slices, but -

But it also means that Steve can tuck his ankle up against Eddie's, hook his foot half around it, and have an excuse if he needs one.

He doesn't need one.

Eddie doesn't move his foot away, but he does shoot wide eyed little looks over at Steve like he's not sure whether this is a joke or not, and -

“Hi,” Steve says, soft and ridiculous and holy shit, he has to have something better than hi.

But apparently hi works, because Eddie ducks his head, looks back up at him with something soft and wary and surprised all at once.

“Hi,” Eddie says back.

And that's -

It's something.

—

Steve gets closer to Robin - their bickering has started to become playful, and even though her teasing's never been mean, now it sounds almost fond. She still gets annoyed when customers watch them work in complete sync and think they're a couple, but now she just rolls her eyes and complains to him later instead of throwing things off by trying to protest it.

It's nice. He thinks he might be winning her over, and it makes the days pass a lot quicker.

—

He doesn't see Eddie for a week after their pizza lunch.

He tries not to think much about it, just tells himself that if he hasn't seen him by the time Dustin comes back from camp, he'll call him.

—

This isn't like any beating he's taken before.

Steve'd thought he was prepared. He was prepared, at least in the beginning. Billy did just as much damage, even if it was in a shorter span of time, and the ache in his ribs and stomach and face is familiar.

He can handle it.

Besides, it doesn't matter how much they hurt him - protecting Robin and Dustin and Erica is more important than anything else.

"Let's take a look at his heart," one of the soldiers says. "See how honest he's really being."

Steve's pretty sure he makes a choked off little guh.

He doesn't want to let them anywhere near his heart.

But on the other hand - he isn't lying as much as they think he is, and maybe that will prove it? They'll have to undo his hands to get him to take it out, and he briefly considers trying to get the drop on them, but he has to concede that probably won't go very well for him.

It's not like they're really asking for his opinion, anyway.

They aren't making any move to untie his hands, either, and Steve's brow scrunches in confusion.

He sees one of them holding what looks like a mix of a gun and a taser. It - honestly, it looks pretty stupid, like a prop in a bad movie, and he wrinkles his nose at it.

They press it up against his ribcage, pull the trigger - and fuck, he jolts back with the force of it.

His chest splits open.

The shock of it makes him numb for a precious few moments, staring down at the gaping hole in his own chest. The pain doesn't hit him until they take his heart out. It feels like it's being carved out of him, ripped from his chest as though he were being mauled by a wild animal, and he has the somewhat hysterical thought that he shouldn't be alive for this.

His heart was torn out of his chest, and somehow it's still beating, erratic and racing.

"Hmm," one of the soldiers says, tilting his heart this way and that. "Feels real."

The soldier squeezes it, and this time Steve screams at the pressure tightening around his heart, making him convulse in his bonds.

The second soldier laughs.

"They're making such good fakes these days," the second soldier says.

The first soldier relaxes his grip, and Steve sucks in ragged gulps of air, too disoriented to really understand what they're saying.

"Much more sophisticated than patches and paint," the first soldier agrees. "What good would a spy be if he showed his real heart?"

"No," Steve protests. "It's real, come on, you can feel it."

There’s no sign of deception from his heart, but it's beating too wildly from the pain to really make a difference.

"We'll see about that," the second soldier says, handing a switchblade to the first.

The first soldier presses the flat of the blade against his heart. "Let's see what's underneath if we shave a little off?"

—

Steve doesn't really remember anything after that. He must have passed out, because the next thing he hears is Robin's voice, and he realizes he's in a different room, tied back to back with her.

His chest aches.

Everything aches, really, but his chest is the worst of it.

Steve looks down, sees himself solid and in one piece again. He might have thought the whole thing was just a pain induced hallucination if it weren't for the unstable beat of his heart. It's pulsing unsteadily, and he feels as though if he even breathes too hard, it might burst into pieces with the next beat.

But he's not alone now.

He's with Robin, and she makes everything better, and even though his heart beats too fast when he thinks of how much he likes her - it's the good kind of too fast, not the kind that makes him think his heart is going to explode.

He is pretty sure that his heart is going to explode, though, that they're probably going to die here. He knows Robin is thinking the same thing - he just knows, like going through Russian secret agent torture together has made them automatically on the same wave length.

They were heading towards being friends before this, he knows, wonders if maybe they could have ever been for real.

It's a shame he doesn't think he'll ever get to find out.

—

Dustin and Erica find them before Steve loses any fingers.

Which is good. He might not be on the basketball team anymore, but he still plays with Lucas sometimes, and he likes all of his fingers attached to his hand and not on the floor of a secret Russian base.

He tells Dustin that as they're escaping from said Russian secret base. Dustin looks a little pale, hugs him tight around the middle, which makes Steve laugh - it should hurt, he thinks, but he doesn't feel a thing.

The only thing he feels is kind of floaty, and the itchy, overheated sensation he always gets when he's had his heart locked inside his chest for too long.

When no one's looking, Steve takes his heart out of his chest.

His stomach turns.

Whatever he's feeling about it seems distant, too far removed for him to be able to react to it, but the physical sensation of his stomach heaving is present and accounted for.

It only barely looks like a heart. The shape of it is hardly visible, more like a double handful of the precut chuck roast he gets to use as stew meat, sluggishly oozing every time it beats.

The thought of putting it back in his chest makes his stomach heave again, but even like this, he knows he can't keep it out in the open.

He rips off the red scarf from his Scoops uniform, wraps it around his heart to hold it together, and ties it off.

There.

Now no one will notice.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

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Part 6

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @samsoble @persnicketysquares @cryptid-system @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse

[littlelamy]

Perhaps a reverse status thing. Pouge Rafe and Kook Reader request. The plot itself came from some short film Drew did in college. Maybe Reader gets set up a blind date at the country club, where Rafe works as a bartender. Rafe is very flirty when she sits down etc, but gets disappointed when hearing why she is there. In walks her blind date and it’s a girl (Reader is straight – and her cousin thought she was a lesbian since she’s never been on a date with a guy)

a/n: thank you for requesting, hope you like it! ⭐️

you had never been to the country club before.

well, that wasn’t entirely true. your parents had dragged you to a few formal events, but it had always felt stiff, uncomfortable, like everyone was watching your every move. judging you. it was nothing like the easy, carefree vibe you were used to.

but this wasn’t about you. this was about your cousin, who was convinced you were a lesbian.

you still didn’t understand how she’d come to that conclusion. maybe it was because you’d never gone on a date with a guy before, or maybe it was because you didn’t constantly talk about guys like some of the other girls at school. either way, she thought she knew what was best for you.

and, in her mind, setting you up with a blind date was the only answer.

“she’s perfect for you!” your cousin had insisted, holding up her phone with a wide grin. “you’ll love her, I swear.”

you raised an eyebrow. “but… it’s a girl?”

your cousin waved you off. “yeah, don’t worry, you’ll see—when you meet her, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

you sighed.

despite your doubts, you agreed. but when you walked into the country club tonight, you still couldn’t shake the sense of discomfort. the club was upscale, fancy—nothing like the laid-back world you were used to. the stuffy atmosphere hit you as soon as you walked through the door, and you were immediately regretting agreeing to this setup.

you passed a few people standing around in their expensive outfits, pretending to enjoy the social atmosphere. your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for your blind date, though you weren’t even sure what to look for.

before you could find a place to stand, you heard a voice behind you.

“can I get you a drink?”

you turned around to see the bartender—a guy with a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly tousled in that messy but purposefully styled way. his smirk was as easy and casual as his demeanor, and something about the way he looked at you made your heart beat just a little faster.

“um, I’m just waiting for someone,” you answered, a little too quickly.

he raised an eyebrow. “blind date?”

you blinked in surprise. “how’d you know?”

he chuckled, a low, warm sound. “you have that look. but if you change your mind, I’m rafe.” he leaned against the bar, arms crossed, studying you with a smirk still playing on his lips.

you couldn’t help but smile back, though you immediately reminded yourself to keep your cool. he was probably just a flirt—guys like him didn’t pay attention to someone like you, right?

“y/n,” you said, giving him your name before turning to scan the room again.

rafe didn’t seem to mind the lack of conversation, though. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but since you’re waiting for someone…” he trailed off, clearly not bothered.

you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a little less tense in the face of his charm. maybe the night wasn’t going to be thatbad.

but as soon as you turned to look at the door, a figure entered, and you froze.

your cousin had set you up with a girl.

you glanced at rafe again, but he wasn’t looking at you. his attention was fully on the figure walking into the club—the same person you assumed was your blind date.

the girl was dressed in a sleek dress, exuding an air of confidence you didn’t have. and as she made her way toward you, you could already tell it wasn’t going to be an easy night.

rafe seemed to notice the awkward silence that settled between you and your blind date. he tilted his head, clearly confused. “uh, not the date you were expecting?”

you looked at him, feeling more self-conscious now. no, not at all.

rafe watched you closely, his expression flickering between amusement and mild confusion as he glanced between you and the girl approaching.

you cleared your throat, trying to focus. “this… this isn’t who I thought I was meeting.” you felt a heat rise in your cheeks, cursing your cousin for this miscommunication.

the girl who had walked in was smiling, looking completely at ease in this environment—this was her world. the country club, the people who belonged here, the perfection in her every movement. she looked out of place beside you.

you forced a smile, standing up awkwardly as she approached. “hi,” you greeted, extending your hand in a handshake. “I’m y/n.”

she returned the handshake with a friendly smile. “glad to meet you, i’m mia.”

“mia,” you repeated, a little thrown off.

rafe, still leaning casually against the bar, watched the interaction with interest. you couldn’t tell if he was still unsure of what was going on or if he was just curious.

“so,” mia started, looking at you with a bemused expression. “how long have you known your cousin?”

you stammered a little, caught off guard by the question. “uh, a while, like since birth.”

she smiled again, but this time it felt more like a question mark than an invitation for conversation.

you didn’t want to be rude, but this was getting uncomfortable. rafe’s presence felt like a lifeline, even if you barely knew him. you glanced over at him, meeting his eyes for just a moment.

“so, mia,” you tried to fill the silence. “do you, uh, come here often?”

before she could answer, rafe cut in, his tone playful. “don’t mind me, but you look a little confused. are you two... supposed to be on a date?”

the way rafe asked, with that charming smirk of his, made you laugh nervously. mia, however, raised an eyebrow.

“um, yeah,” she answered, turning to him with a slight smile. “I think so.”

but the confusion between you two lingered. rafe glanced over at you and then at mia, clearly trying to figure out the situation.

as the evening wore on, the awkwardness continued to hang in the air like a heavy cloud. you and mia had little in common—nothing that your cousin had anticipated, nothing that made the blind date feel right.

at one point, you excused yourself to the restroom, your mind a mess of confusion and frustration. when you returned, rafe was still behind the bar, but he’d been joined by a few other people.

you made your way back to the bar, more than ready to escape the tension. when rafe saw you coming, he gave you a quick smile, the kind that made you feel like maybe everything wasn’t as hopeless as it had seemed a few minutes ago.

“how’s it going?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

you sighed, sinking into the stool. “it’s terrible. this whole thing was a disaster.”

rafe’s smirk faded, replaced by a look of understanding. he leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “so... your cousin didn’t tell you it was a girl?”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “she did. she's so sure that i'm a lesbian. thought she was helping me out.”

rafe chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for you.”

“feel sorry,” you muttered.

he smiled, a genuine warmth to it. “you know, if you want, I could get you out of here. just say the word, and I’ll tell your blind date you had an emergency.”

you laughed at the offer. maybe rafe wasn’t so bad after all.

“you’d do that?” you teased.

“hey, it’s my job to make people feel comfortable,” he said with a wink. “even if it means sabotaging a blind date.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[ttrashlord]

STEB SFW/NSFW HEADCANONS

A/N-This is my first time writing smut so,pls be kind with critics <3 (@moonstrider9904 its the owner of the gif)

P.s-i was listen to Lana del rey while doing this ;)

Warnings:mentions of kinks (cockwarming,bdsm,oral sex,etc),oral sex (Female and male receiving),

Pairing:Female!reader x Steb

-SFW-

Steb is such a gentle lover,he won't just do anything without your consent or go too rough or fast,he won't go slow either,he will adjust at your rythm,just as you are.

He will steal you kisses all time at home,at all time.Youre cooking? A stolen kiss. Reading at the couch? Don't look behind you,because a Wild Steb will be waiting there.

He is not a coffee lover ( as i said in another headcanon) but he surely loves tea!,so whenever you two decide that you want to do a lazy day or just thake breakfast in bed (most of the times,he does the breakfast),he is ready!

He enjoys going shopping,and even more if it's with you! He makes a whole list but you don't take different parts,no,you do the whole shopping TOGETHER.

I saw an account saying that Steb would have french accent (SORRY I DONT REMEMBER THE ACCOUNT) which i believe 2 things:

He can SPEAK french,because it's one of the lenguages he can speak,but he has British accent (just imagine ladies)

Have you seen the manhwa sign? Well,hearing his voice by the first time has the same reaction that yohan did on soohwa

He Will listen to whatever music you listen to

But he is a lana del rey boy

He likes tickle wars,but only when he's winning >:/

He didn't used to have a lots of things in his wardrobe until you came to his life,then you started to be like a fashion designer to him and started to tell him what could fit him and what he should try/buy.

He really apreciates this,because It feels like it's worth It to worry how he looks apart from his enforcer uniform

-NSFW-

(pls let me get ready for this)

If in his normal life he is a shy,a man of poor words,but believe me when i say this,he is comunicative in bed

If he needs you/something he'll say,he won't do any rodeo about It,he is kinda shy about being too explicit,but he makes sure to let you know what he needs

Imagine that is been a long,tiring day,you two are enforcers and right now are working at the "peanut partro"l with cait as a Commander

Sure,she was great,but sometimes a pain in the ass as a boss.

So,when you two arrived home,you shouted to him as you lead your steps to the kitchen "i'm making dinner"

You put your apron on,and started to make something,but suddenly,a pair on blue,warm hand were embracing you stomach

Steb:mhm...you...mhm..

You didn't undertood a word of what he said because his head was pressed on your shoulder

You left your hands from the sink and put the on his hands,and asked him: honey,what did you say?

And as clear as water,he told you,putting his chin on your shoulder and his lip very near your lobe:

Steb:I need you....now....

He doesn't speak very much but damn he know how to use his mouth.At first,he was very shy to go down on you,saying he never didi It on anyone else,but the more he thinks about it,the more he wants It.

The very first time he went down on you he was inexperienced,but he is someone that learns pretty easy,so the first time uses It to learn as much as he can for you,what do you like? What reaction what can he get from you?

BUT when you first when down on him? Girl are you trying to kill him?

You did It the very first time you two has sex,and he hated to admit how fast he did came when your Lips touched his tip.Only using your hands,going Up and down was...such a view,and even while you were looking at him with such pretty eyes,but when you decided to use your Lips,he fainted.

The first time you had sex you decided to go missionary.It's confortable,it's intimate and he can be as close to you and look at you

Saying this right now ,MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM,he loves it,he loses it.

His favoutire positions are:

Cowgirl,the Lotus,any variation of the missionary,and any position where he can see your face.

I believe that he has Big dick energy (DON'T KILL ME) but not THAT much,just above avarage.but the () it's pretty normal.

I believe he has the prettiest dick, i mean,i can't say look, but think about It:

More than avarage lenght,let's say () while not erected,but when it's erected It passes to be ().

And it's pretty firm,very curvy,just a prefect curve that helps you to make your own climax even better.

His () as on the avarage side,making It ().

Meanwhile the colour tip it's a pretty pinkish colour,not a full Pink but It shades into Pink.

He loves eye Contact,but most of all kissing you and showing to you how much he loves your body,in any way possible.This is like mosning your name as loud as he can (yes,he doesn't only moan,he groans,growls,do any sounds you can imagine) worshipping you,telling you how good you feel,etc.

And kissing you is something that he does:

1-when he is about to come,he feels It,and he needs to show you how good you make him feel

2-if it's a very intimate sex session (like,you're not only fucking but "making love")

He is such a gentleman,he can adjust at your rythm with any problem, did you tell him to go faster? For sure faster It is. You told him you don't want to come yet? He understands,he slows the pace and waist for you.

His kinks are on the "normal" side:

Praise kink,slight bdsm (chokers,blindfolds,and sometimes shibari) oral (receiving and giving),cockwarming,slighlty erotic asfyxiathion (on him)

But most of the times,he enjoys "normal sex" and always will prefer to "make love" with rather than just "fucking"

HEYYY THIS IS MY VERY FIRST TIME WRITING NSFW DON'T HATE ME ON THIS!

this took me soo long because i had no idea what to write for him so,here it is!

Hope you like it!

Also! I wanted to thank @saradika-graphics for this beautiful dividers,if need any, she surely has! (Or ask a request).

That's all loves,bye!

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US #DRABBLE - JUNGKOOK THINKS YOU HATE HIM

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 1.3k

MAIN STORY HERE.

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 17 years old.

You have become distant over the last few weeks. Jungkook has grown accustomed to having you around constantly: at lunchtime, in class, and even walking home together. But it’s been two or three weeks since you’ve started avoiding him, finding excuses.

At first, he didn’t say much—maybe you were really busy. But then he caught you with other friends. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt. Over the past year, everything in his life had improved with you in it. But now, he feels like he’s bothering you every time he tries to talk. The worst part is that you keep talking to Jimin, even having lunch with him—but not Jungkook.

“I don’t understand…” Jungkook mumbles, stabbing his bowl of rice with his chopsticks as he gazes at you from afar, sitting with your friend Hyesun. You seem so happy, laughing at something she said, oblivious to his gaze when you could usually spot him anywhere. “Did I say something wrong?” he asks Jimin, who tilts his head to look at you too, sighing.

“We never know what that girl has in her mind,” Jimin says, chewing his food. “It’s not you, Kookie. You’re the kindest guy I know.”

“Then why is she avoiding me?” Jungkook frowns, making Jimin sigh and taking a sip of his water.

“Maybe she figured out that you’re madly in love with her and doesn’t feel the same?” Jimin suggests. Jungkook freezes at the words, feeling his cheeks burn.

“I’m not— I don’t have feelings for her…” He mumbles, his gaze dropping to his tray.

“Oh please”, Jimin rolls his eyes, putting down his chopsticks. “You’re a sap for her. You buy her favorite snacks, wait for her after class even when yours ended two hours earlier, and you even go to the library with her. You never stepped foot in that place before meeting her.”

“I’m just a good friend.” Jungkook frowns, trying to deny Jimin’s words.

“You turned down every girl who hit on you this year, Kookie.” Jimin arches a brow as Jungkook whines, throwing his head back, before hiding his face in his hands. He knows that Jimin is right. He hates that Jimin can read him like an open book.

“Do you really think… She’s avoiding me because of that?” Jungkook asks quietly, his face still buried in his hands. Jimin sighs, staring at his friend.

He’s been following the development of your friendship since the start. Gently, Jimin wraps his fingers around Jungkook’s wrist and pulls his hands down.

“Hey,” Jimin says softly, “She’d be stupid to avoid you just for that. You’re a great guy, Kookie. A little slow and dumb, but not in a bad way.” He teases with a smirk, making Jungkook smile slightly.

“I don’t want to lose her. If she doesn’t feel the same way, it’s okay. I can deal with a little heartbreak. But not… not having her in my life.” Jungkook admits, and Jimin’s lips curve in a soft smile. “I’ll talk to her.”

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook wipes his hands on his pants. He’s been standing outside your door for fifteen minutes. He was full of courage on the way to your building, but now it's slowly crumbling. What’s he supposed to say? Are you avoiding me because I’m in love with you? He cringes at the thought. No, he can’t say that. Exhaling softly, he knocks at your door before he could chicken out.

Your father opens the door, his slight frown shifting into a smile. He knows Jungkook. He actually loves Jungkook; he is a respectful and well-mannered.

“What’s up, son?” Your father grins as Jungkook swallows hardly, his hands sweaty. He discreetly wipes them again.

“Hello sir. Is… Y/N here?” He asks with a small voice.

“Come in, she’s in her room.” His father nods, stepping aside as Jungkook bows politely before entering. Once his shoes are off, he heads to your room. Your door is open, you’re lying on the floor, humming a song and drawing in your notebook.

You sit up and frown when you see Jungkook standing in your doorframe, still outside the room, because he didn’t have time to knock. You always seem to sense his presence whenever he's near. He called it your ‘spider-sense’.

“Kook?” You ask, getting up clumsily, feeling awkward. “What are you doing here?”

“I… uh… I need to talk to you.” He mumbles as you walk over, gesturing for him to come in before looking outside at your father, who’s smirking at you. You roll your eyes and close the door behind you.

“I’m kinda busy,” you say, avoiding his gaze, with your hands on your hips. “Make it quick.”

Jungkook's heart clenches painfully at the way you're acting. He hates it. He misses you.

“Y/N…” He starts, tilting his head to force you to look at him. “Are you avoiding me?”

“What— No!” You immediately shake your head.

“Please, don’t… sugarcoat it. If you don’t want to be friends anymore, that’s okay. But just tell me. I’ll respect your decision, but—"

“I’m not avoiding you, Kook!” You sigh, your stomach twisting uncomfortably.

“We haven't had a real conversation in weeks. You have time for everyone but me. You can’t even look at me right now.” He frowns as you finally lift your eyes from your feet to meet his gaze. “You know what? Sorry, it was stupid of me to bother you. I get it.” He clenches his jaw and steps back, turning toward the door.

He needs to get out fast. Jungkook has always been emotional. He can’t help it. The last thing he wants is for you to see him cry over this. He knows you wouldn’t judge him. But it still hurts.

 “What do you want me to say?” You bark, fists clenched at your sides as you stare at the back of his neck. You hate his chestnut haircut—you’ve told him multiple times. But that didn't stop you from falling for that idiot.

Your words make him freeze, his fingers still on the doorknob. He stares at the chipped paint of your door, unsure what to do, waiting for you to continue.

“I…” you start, shaking your head. “This is stupid.”

“You what?” He asks, not moving. But when you don’t reply, he nods, his grip tightening on the doorknob. “Alright…” He sighs, ready to leave.

“I like you.” You say in one breath, scared that if he crosses the threshold, you’ll never see him again. The confession sends a shiver down his spine. When he turns to face you, you're looking away, frowning— probably angry because you don't understand this new feeling. “Laugh at me all you want. I can’t help it.” You mutter, jaw clenched.

But Jungkook doesn’t want to laugh. His features soften as he watches you.

“Why would I?” He almost whispers, stepping closer. “Why would I?” He repeats, tilting his head to make you meet his gaze.

“Because you’re popular, and you can have any girls you want. Why would you care about someone who looks and acts like a boy?” You reply, making him chuckle softly. He pulls you into a warm hug, your breath shaky, but you stay still.

“I don’t care about them,” He murmurs, his warm breath brushing your ear as he tightens his arms around you, his nose grazing the skin of your shoulder. “I like you,” he says, and his words make you freeze for a second before you start laughing nervously. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your arms wrapping shyly around his frame.

A huge weight lifts off your heart, and you feel lighter.

“Let me take you on a date,” he offers, pulling back as you shake your head, amused.

“A date?” You ask as he hums, wiping away a lonely tear from your cheek— the last remnant of your fear of losing him because of feelings you thought were unrequited.

“Well… I don’t have the money for something fancy, but I know you like tteokbokki.” He adds with an amused smile, his hands resting on your shoulders as you nod. “If I want you to be my girlfriend, I’ll better woo you properly, right?”

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3

[n0vazsq]

What would you do? | Hector Fort x Reader

pairing . . . hector fort x reader

summary . . . After seeing it on Tiktok, you decide to try the 'What would you do?' trend on Hector

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.2k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . i wrote this a few hours ago but just started proofreading // editing rn so yeah thats why it took a while! also finding pics for the little moodboard legit takes me 293 centuries!!!! also im proofreading this at 1 am my timezone so if some phrases or sentences dont make sense just ignore it or comment so i can fix it!

taglist . . . @barcapix (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . The soft hum of music filled the air, blending with the golden hues of the late afternoon sun streaming through Hector’s apartment windows.

The two of you were sprawled across his couch, limbs tangled under a worn throw blanket. Outside, the city bustled with life, but inside, the world felt quieter, softer. Just the two of you, alone.

Your phone rested on your lap, the screen open to TikTok, where you’d been scrolling aimlessly. A video caught your eye; it was of a girl teasing her boyfriend with the trend, 'What would you do if another guy did this to me?'

You glanced over at Hector, a mischievous smile forming on your lips. His focus was on the ceiling, eyes half closed as if he were lost in thought.

Typical Hector, always calm, always composed. It was moments like these that made you want to annoy him, just to see him open up a little.

You nudged him with your shoulder. "Hey."

He turned his head slightly, one eyebrow raised. "What 'Hey'?"

"I wanna try something."

That eyebrow quirked higher, suspicion obvious in his eyes. "That sentence never ends well."

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a grin. "Relax. It’s just a game."

He stretched, one arm draped lazily behind you on the back of the couch. "Alright. What kind of game are we talking about?"

You shifted, facing him fully."It’s this trend on TikTok. I ask you what you’d do if another guy did something to me."

He smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, I see how it is. You wanna test me?"

"Maybe." You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. "You scared?"

He let out a low laugh. "Of you? Never."

You bit back a smile, then gently bumped his shoulder. "Okay, first question. What would you do if another guy did that?"

Hector tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "Depends. Was it an accident, or should I be worried about this guy’s future?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re so dramatic."

"Am I?" His eyes softened, but the hint of protectiveness lingered. "Try me again." He smirked, his arm now rubbing circles in your shoulder.

You looked around, pretending to think. "Alright, what if... he said I looked pretty?"

His smirk faded, replaced by something more serious. "I’d thank him for having good taste. And for not being a blind bat." He leaned in, his voice dropping a notch. "Then I’d ask if he’s lost."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the warmth in his voice making your heart beat faster. "You’re ridiculous."

Hector’s eyes never left yours. "You’re the one asking the questions."

You felt a blush creep up your neck, but you continued asking. "Okay, what if he tried to hold my hand?"

The playful glint disappeared. His jaw tightened, his fingers tapping against his knee, his other hand clutching your shoulder. "Then we’d have a... conversation."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile. "A conversation?"

He leaned closer, his voice low and serious. "A very short one."

You burst into laughter, the image of Hector trying to intimidate someone in his calm way too much to handle. "You’re terrible."

He grinned, but there was a flicker of something more intense in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. "Next question."

You took a breath, steadying yourself. "What if he brought me flowers?"

Hector’s gaze softened, but his expression stayed serious. "I’d buy you a bigger bouquet. And another one with thorns. For him."

You bit your lip, the protectiveness in his voice sending shivers down your spine. The room seemed to grow quieter, the playful conversation fading into something deeper.

You hesitated, then asked the question that had been lingering on your mind.

"What if..." You glanced down, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if he told me he liked me?"

The air shifted. Hector’s eyes locked onto yours, the teasing smile gone. He reached over, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered, his touch soft but deliberate.

"Then I’d make sure you knew how much I do."

Your breath caught, the weight of his words settling in your chest. The room felt smaller, the space between you charged with something unspoken. For once, you were the one flustered, the usual banter replaced by a quiet intensity.

"Hector..." You couldn’t find the words, your heart pounding in your ears.

He smiled, the corners of his lips softening. "Any other questions, or did I win the game?"

You shook your head, a laugh escaping despite the lump in your throat. "No more questions."

He leaned back, his arm slipping around your shoulders, pulling you closer. "Good. I like winning."

"I love you, you know that?"

You could feel Hector's breath near your ear, warm against your cool skin. His arm had now moved from your shoulder to your waist, gripping it tightly.

"I know that. And I love you too. More than anything." His voice was a tiny bit deeper, but boy, it made you go insane.

Hector's hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle like the soft brush of a breeze against your skin. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, pulling you closer, as if the distance between you had never existed.

"I'll make sure every single guy knows you're mine, yeah?" His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, like they held a thousand unspoken words.

Then, slowly, his lips brushed against yours, hesitant at first, like the first raindrop on a parched earth.

You melted into him, the kiss deepening as he leaned in, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart race, like a fire igniting in the cool night.

His fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you, and you felt as if the world had disappeared, leaving only the two of you.

"You're mine, mi hermosa amor."

"I know, Hector, I know. And I wouldn't want to have it any other way."

"Good, because I'm never letting you go away."

He said it with such sincerity that it made your heart melt in your chest. You looked up at him, eyes searching his face, looking for any trace of doubt. But there was none.

His gaze softened, and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips, one that was all for you. It made your breath hitch.

The way he said it made you feel as though nothing else in the world mattered, like he had found his happiness in you and wouldn’t let go. But Hector did find his happiness in you, it was that you were too clueless to realise that.

You could see it in the way he looked at you, that quiet, deep affection, the kind that didn't need words to be understood.

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling him tense slightly but then relax. The silence stretched out, comfortable and warm. Outside, the city continued on, but in that moment, it didn’t matter.

You already knew who’d won.

He always did.

[ominium]

farewell

character : gojo s. (i only say his name once, so if you wanna insert anyone else...won't blame ya) context : your husband forgets who you were (amnesia) and hangs out with his high school fling more than you :( pov : first person (reader) content : angst no comfort (letter no response) note(s) : yeah idk, had this thought at 5:00 am and, after a few days, decided to finally write it out

also gojo likes his eggs scrambled here with reader. yea idk if u think he'd prefer runny yolk then oops

—

In another universe, we would have grown old together.

As promised, we would have woken up in each other's arms, go on morning walks, share a sandwich, watch the birds fly by...

As promised, we would have grown a flower bed out in the countryside, have chats with our elderly neighbors every now and then, watch the sunset together...

When we first got back to our home after the accident, I had hope. I know it was hard for you to live with me, as you saw me as nothing more than a stranger, but I believed you could remember me. I had strength that our love would prevail, as cheesy as it sounds...I believed that you could remember me.

Every little aspect of our little life was still there. The way I still had to try extra hard to wake you up in the mornings, how you still enjoyed noodles that were a little overcooked and soaked with the broth, and even the way you sat on "your spot" of the couch. Everything was so endearing, and I wanted to believe that you hadn't changed.

The way you still greeted your old friends was all the same. Sure, you missed out on some memories, but for the most part, they didn't have to endure the pain of being asked, "who are you?"

It was nice to see some of your memories come back, too. When you had that nagging feeling that you just had to go to the local park, even though it was raining...all because it felt right. And it did. We used to take a walk on weekends to wind down and relax. Our hands intertwined, and just simply people watching. It re-lit what little faith I had left, and had me craving for more...more of you remembering our memories.

How you started going out every other evening to get some drinks. It seemed so...painfully absent in the home, but at least you were putting in the effort to remember.

So how...how is it that you seem to start remembering everything but me? How can you remember the way I liked my eggs scrambled, but not me? How could you remember how I liked the way I folded my clothes, but not me? How was my spot replaced with her?

Was it not strange that she would make you sunny-side up eggs, even though you said you didn't like the yolk runny? How she didn't walk the path you wanted to walk in the park? You brought her a beautiful bouquet wrapped in purple, yet the colors she surrounds herself with are yellow.

Why is it that I hear from Shoko that you were with her again? Why do I get messages from Megumi that you had to buy two bouquets, because you accidentally bought purple flowers again? Why is it that it seems you never come home to me? Why did I have to see your wedding ring on the bathroom floor. Forgotten.

Why do I wake up to an empty home, and go to bed alone now....

...You know, yesterday was our anniversary. I had bought a cake and even asked Yuuji to help me decorate the living room for us. It was...pretty awkward, to say the least, when he calls me and says you're at the bar with "that girl again."

To be honest, Satoru, I don't blame you. How could I? You experienced trauma, you have amnesia...you still see me as a stranger that just happens to live in the same home as you, and just happens to have a bunch of pictures with you, and even a wedding photo plastered in the bedroom wall. Right.

But it would've been nice if you had just...tried. Tried to come home to me. Try to spend time with me. Given me the bouquets because I love purple.

Tried to be the husband you promised you would be to me.

So here. I'm sure you've already seen them, but the divorce papers are under the letter. I've signed everything, and again I'm sure you've seen, but I grabbed all my essentials and left. You don't have to see me again. I placed our rings in the box they came in...thank goodness I saved it, despite you wanting me not to. You can do what you will with them...you did buy them anyways.

And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't give more time to you. I'm sorry if I didn't try hard enough. But, I'm sure you'd understand...you've got holes in your memories that everyone wants to fill.

and I've got whole memories that I can't share anymore.

[1ntaks]

so you know ☆ yoon keeho

fluff not proofread fem reader

“Kyo?” You ask softly, voice cutting over the music softly playing in his apartment. 

You sit on his couch, watching him make ramen in the kitchen.

“Yes, ma’am?” He asks, voice honeyed and wonderfully deep, head poking out to look at you. He smiles fondly when his eyes land on you, and you can’t help the way you smile back.

“Come sit.”

Keeho finishes working with what he’s prepping and comes, sitting on the couch cushion you pat. “What’s up, pretty girl?” He asks, studying your face. The food wasn’t done and you knew that — and he knew you knew.

“Just curious about something,” he hums to show he’s listening. “You know you have to treat me like a princess, right?”

He chuckles. “Do I not already, baby?” 

He does, buying you almost anything you ask. He’s your favorite person to gossip with, your safe haven, and a wonderful boyfriend. “You do. I’m just telling you that if you ever switch up, I’ll leave.”

Keeho’s brows raise. “Well, yes, ma’am. Can I ask why I’m being warned?”

You giggle. “Nothing you did.” He doesn’t seem very convinced. “I’m serious, baby,” you coo, kissing his subconscious pout. “You’re perfect. I draw hearts next to your name in my diary. I’m just telling you to keep it up.”

“You made me worry I did something wrong,” he sighs out, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “I’ll make sure to stay in your good graces.”

“You’re the perfect man for me,” you whisper. “Keep it up and I’ll let you put a ring on it.”

Keeho grins, leaning back to admire your frame, domestic on his couch. “Well, I can’t let your cute ass get away,” his hand playfully teases the ticklish skin where your shirt has slipped and ridden up. “So I’ll be on my best behavior.”

You bat his hand away, forcing down your smile. “Go finish our food.”

“‘Course, gorgeous,” he presses a kiss to your temple. “My pretty girl. You’re a spitfire, you know that?”

Watching his back, you hum. “You love it.”

“I do. Need my girl feisty.”

based on sabrina carpenter's good graces!

[kaliforniahigh]

Same anon, I found your original post and decided to try a prologue blurb for you as I was feeling creative 👉👈

you just moved into a new house and you take this picture of Noah, and after a couple of weeks, strange things start happening, like stuff moving on its own and suddenly your camera stops working and you can't sleep separately anymore and you can't be alone in the house because you're so scared

Search for missing 23-year-old gone cold.

The front page headline taunts you accompanied by the picture you took of Noah a year ago to the day. You don't bother to read the actual article, it's been the same regurgitated nonsense for the past year, the same speculations which throw a spotlight on you: prime suspect #1. No one believes you when you tell them the truth. You got tired of trying to explain, being scoffed at and mocked as you tried to defend yourself to members of a community in a town you wished you no longer lived in. You were the town pariah and chose to accept that. "Come on. Don't look at that." Nicholas' hand on top of yours pulls you back from your thoughts. "Don't do this to yourself." He knows what you're doing, that you're beating yourself up again. Since Noah went missing he's been at your side, you know it's because he lost his best friend that night too but you can't help but wonder if a part of him blames you.

This never would have happened if you had just left when it first started happening. You're convinced that this is all somehow your fault, because you weren't truthful about how bad things got inside that house when something would creep in with the darkness, whenever he wasn't home.

You don't answer. You sigh because you're tired of the same old merry-go-round of lies your conversations have become. He's been supportive and good friend, allowing you to stay at his ever since because you're too scared to be inside that house even once the crime scene tape was ripped from the door. You can't sell it because no one wants a house with an active missing persons case attached to it, or to buy from the girl who is their number one suspect. You'd rip it down if you could but know that if you did whatever that thing was living inside there would only find a new home, a new person to torment. Somehow you prefer to be the one in control of that.

When you look across at Nicholas you can see it in his face he wants to ask you about it again. Every so often he gets the same look in his eye, the one that tells you he wants to ask because he doesn't believe you when you tell him what happened the night Noah disappeared.

Maybe the fact he doesn't believe you stems from the way your answer never changes, nor does the infliction in your voice. You repeat it like you're reading from a script, you weren't awake when he was yelling, it was too dark for you to even see anything, you don't know where the blood came from, you don't know anything.

Truthfully, you do because you were together that night, the same way you had been for the last few months when the nights became to unbearable for you to sleep alone. You felt safer with him, or convinced yourself that you were. Nothing came when he was there and the night terrors and sleep paralysis had come to a stop.

"I know you've told me before but what actually happened that night? Maybe... maybe you missed something?" There's a crack in his voice which betrays his own emotion. You know he's fighting hard to believe you, to have sympathy. You feel guilty every time you hear that break in his voice because you want to tell him.

So you start recount the events of that night, like reading from a script, because the only thing you know is: you can't tell anyone the truth.

ANOON!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING????

I'm actually freaking out right now because this is PERFECT. You wrote it perfectly, I don't even have the words to describe it!!!!

Poor Nicholas and poor reader. And she was there too when it happened :( She felt so safe with him and then this happens? And when you mentioned the blood???

Please, come back whenever you're feeling creative again!!!!

[jeeseth]

FREE LOVE — yoon jiyoon x f!reader

you never knew that things could escalated this quickly. how did you went from buying iced americano at a random bakery (cafe) and somewhat managed to fell in love with the pretty grumpy barista .

tags ☕️ — fluff, non-idol au, coffee shop au, barista/baker!jiyoon, highschooler!reader, lowercase intended, mens dni, grammatical errors .

it's a hot summer evening as you make your way to the bakery you usually go to. the sun is sinking low, you can see it through the clouds. it's nearly time for you to buy your daily cup of iced americano.

you pushed open the door and the familiar scent of fresh baked goods and coffee greets you as you step into your favourite and comfort place. the interior is all warm wood, bright accents and high ceilings. it's an open space, just a long counter for placing orders and a little sitting area by one of the windows. there are other costumers here, but you obviously pay them no mind. your eyes are fixed on the tall person behind the cash register.

she is pretty, no doubt about that, with dark hair that falls just over her eyes, making it hard to tell what she's thinking. that combined with her height and slightly bigger frame (than yours) has your heart pounding away in your chest whenever you get close to her. not that it matters, because you’re not going to talk to her ever. there's just no way you possibly could. so you’re just gonna continue admiring that pretty girl from afar.

you let out a soft sighs as you approached the counter, ready to order your usual which is an iced americano. with extra ice because you’re crazy.

"the usual?" her low voice interrupts your thoughts, sending a shiver down your spine. you can feel your face going red in embarrassment and nod silently. you can already imagine how this little interaction is going to replay in your mind later tonight as you lay in bed.

she hums and turns around and starts preparing your order with practiced ease. you take that opportunity to look around the bakery like you always did. smelling the warm fresh breads that fills the bakery. you let out a soft hum from seeing how clean and tidy the bakery actually is. that’s kinda amazing knowing that this pretty girl works here alone.

you quickly looks back at the counter as the pretty barista hands your drink, hands almost touching. you swear you can feel your skin tingling at the near contact and it lowkey feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest. you takes the cup and mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ before hastily leaving the bakery and blaming the heat for how red your face feels.

that night, as you lay in bed, you can't help but sigh as your head filled with the cute barista again. why does fate have to be so cruel? it's not fair that someone so perfect is so unreachable. you close your eyes, trying to relax and get some sleep, but the image of her is burned into your mind.

the next morning as you make your way to school, you can't help but to let out a deep sigh. you know it's stupid and you don't want to seem like a stereotype, but the first thing on your mind is coffee and that means going to the bakery again. you really should try and resist at least some of your urges, but just the thought of not seeing her makes your heart ache.

you push the door open with more force then necessary, bracing yourself for what is about to come. the first thing your eyes landed on is her, already behind the counter, looking as pretty as ever. as if she sensed your arrival her eyes turn to see you and her lips twitch up into a small smile.

your breath immediately catches in your throat as you let out an awkwardly smile at her, your heart already speeding up. you walk over to the counter, trying to act natural. you want to say something to her, anything. but all you manage to stutter out is your goddamn order. she just nods, no surprise showing on her face at your nervous behaviour and turns around to prepare your drink.

you mentally curses yourself when you literally stuttered in front of her. and now she probably thinks you’re stupid or something. as you wait for her to finish you take the opportunity to study her form. her shoulders are wide, covered by the fabric of her shirt. it fits her perfectly, not too tight but still emphasizing her broad shoulders. god she looks so good, like she literally walked right out of a dream.

after a while, she turns around and place your drink on the counter. but what makes you confused is that there’s a piece of freshly baked bread with it. did you even order any bread? you look up at her and titled your head.

"hey um sorry but, i didn’t order any bread." you said, trying to sound as calm as possible. she let out a small chuckle before smiling at you. damn.

"take it. i'll give it to you for free." she smiles and hands you the drink and the bread. your cheeks immediately heats up when you feels her fingers brushing against your hand. was that on purpose?

you quickly pays and gets ready to leave but she stops you by handing you your balance. "don’t forget your money, sweet girl." she chuckles softly. you let out a small smile before quickly leaving the bakery. what the hell just happened. you glance at your hand and noticed a little piece of paper with your balance.

your eyes widen and your heartbeat starts beating faster when you see what’s written on the paper. in the cursive handwriting it wrote, ‘come again tomorrow. -jiyoon’. you let out a shaky breath while putting that piece of paper inside your pocket. jiyoon. that pretty barista and baker name is jiyoon.

you're not sure how and why but, your legs and heart keeps bringing you back to this stupid bakery just to see jiyoon. ugh. you're down bad for that pretty barista. at this point, you don't even care at how much you had already spend buying an iced americano everyday at her bakery. as long as you get to see her... it's worth every penny.

"are you single?" i'm sorry what. your head snaps up when you hear that annoyingly pretty voice. you look up from whatever you were reading and saw jiyoon sitting in front of you with a literal broom in her hand. seems like she was in the middle of cleaning this bakery. jiyoon rests her chin on her palm as she waits for your answer. why is she so damn straightforward.

you fiddles with the cup of iced americano in your hands before mumbling shyly while avoiding jiyoon's intense gaze. "umm, yes." you muttered, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

seeing you blush at such simple yet amusing question makes jiyoon chuckles quietly, she continue to admire you who is sitting in front of her. jiyoon took noticed of the book you're reading and smiles softly when she realized you're still schooling. it was silence for a while before jiyoon decided to break it.

"still in high school?" jiyoon asks while looking at you curiously. you looks up from your books and nods your heads. jiyoon hums in response when you nodded. you're in your third year already and that's why you need your daily iced americano to stay alive with all these stuff. jiyoon on the other hand has just graduated high school a year ago.

"i got exams coming up, that's why i need your iced americano everyday." you giggles softly when you see jiyoon surprised expression. she wasn't expecting that but by hearing your words, it warms something inside jiyoon's heart. she's glad that this bakery that she decided to open can help students like you.

jiyoon let out a small chuckle as she continue to admire you studying in her bakery. jiyoon has completely forgotten to clean her bakery floor. so what? at least she can see you up close now.

days turns into weeks and weeks turns into months. after all those blood, sweat and tears you finally finished your exam. no more stressing. and that also means you can finally hang out with jiyoon. oh wait. forgot to mention that you and jiyoon has becomes close during those times. don't ask how. it's clearly because of jiyoon stupid dad jokes and pick up lines. but it's okay because it's jiyoon.

you're currently sitting in jiyoon's bakery, waiting for her to close it and calls it a day. while scrolling through your phone, you glance at the table where jiyoon's phone is at. you know you shouldn't but you can't help to peek a little when you saw a notification pops up on jiyoon's screen. seeing jiyoon's lockscreen has completely makes you forgot to see the notifications. you heartbeat quickens when you saw a candid picture of you studying on jiyoon's lockscreen. some people might creep out when they saw something like this but you were so happy when you saw it. you find this small gesture to be very meaningful and touching. it definitely warms your heart!

after a while, jiyoon came to sit in front of you with a piece of bread in her hands. she smiles before handing it to you. you took it and let out a quiet thanks which makes jiyoon chuckles.

jiyoon continue to admire you and watch carefully as you took a sip of your americano. you and jiyoon talks for a while before jiyoon took notice of you not even touching the bread she gave earlier. jiyoon raised an eyebrows and asks you softly.

"why aren't you eating it?" jiyoon mumbles, glancing at the bread on the table. don't you like it? but jiyoon has been giving you the same kind of breads for a month now. you sighs softly before giggling afterwards. jiyoon frowns deepens when you giggles.

"jiyoon, i’m gluten intolerant."

"what."

[tmntonthebrain]

Girls Look Better in a Real Tight Sweater

Content: 2003 Donatello x fem!reader

Warnings: Bringing alcohol to the function

Notes: Based off an edit I re-found on TikTok, aged up Turts (they are all late 20's). This is my first time writing for TMNT so please be gentle!

• ───────────────── •

It was Thanksgiving. Mikey was prepping all the dishes with Raph in the kitchen, Leo and Splinter were helping set up the table and drinks, and Donnie was tinkering with something in the corner. April and Casey would be over later, they had to visit their respective families first, but one person was coming over soon...one that everyone made sure not to tell Donnie.

You were walking down the sewer path with a brown bag in your hand. You knew you had to bring something...so why not bring something everybody could enjoy? You were wearing a cream sweater that hugged your body with some blue jeans. The sweater was a size too small, but you didn't have any time to buy a bigger size before the dinner.

Entering the lair, Leo looked up and his face brightened. "(Y/n)! So good to see you!"

The reason he spoke so loud was to alert Donnie. The turtle in purple froze mid-screw with his screwdriver. All of his brothers and his father knew of his feelings for you...but you had been none the wiser.

"Hey Leo! Hey Splinter! Wow, this is a nice spread." You admired the table the two of them had pulled out with the cloth and silverware sets.

"Thank you, (Y/n)," Splinter spoke, walking up to her. "What have you brought?"

Grinning ear to ear, you pulled the alcohol out of the bag. It was a clear blue bottle, very fancy looking. "I brought Moscato d'Asti for everyone to enjoy."

Splinter grinned and gently took the wine bottle from her. "This looks very nice. I'll put it on the table."

"Thank you, Splinter." You smiled.

"Why don't you go see Don? He's been dying to see you." Leo suggested, after giving you a little side hug in greeting.

"You read my mind."

Donnie hadn't seen what you were wearing yet. You were hoping to get him flustered, at least...you didn't know if he had returned your feelings, but you hoped he did. You figured you'd know based on his reaction to your outfit, even if you hadn't originally intended to make him flustered with it.

Walking up behind him, you tapped on his shell, a habit you had picked up on doing. You just liked the sound it produced when you did. He slowly turned, and when he did, his jaw nearly dropped on the floor.

"You...you're um..." Donnie stuttered.

"Here?" You chuckled.

"No...yes...wait...hold on..." Donnie swiveled back around and put his head in his hands.

He thought to himself. You looked so hot in that sweater...too hot! How could he ever hide how he feels after that?!

"Don?" You asked.

"J-Just a second! I'm uh...working with the toaster!" Donnie quickly picked up the trinket he was tampering with and in his haste, just pried it open...when the whole point was to put it back together.

You blinked a couple times before nodding slowly. "Okay...do you want a hug?"

"Just hug my shell."

Smiling, you leaned over him, your arms loosely around his neck when you hugged him. Donnie was damn near sweating now. He could feel how your soft chest pressed into his shell. He was gonna fucking lose it.

"Yo angelcakes! Get in here and help, Raph's about to kill me!" Mikey yelled from the kitchen.

"Coming! See ya, Donnie~." You purred in his ear.

He shivered. Well, if you didn't know before, you knew now.

• ───────────────── •

Here's my TMNT masterlist in case you wanna request something!

If anyone has any feedback, don’t be afraid to comment or dm me!

[lovehotelreservation]

chapter two: used to burn cds full of songs i didn't know summary: worldwide fame and a political tie or two has you--one of the biggest pop stars around--in dire need of reliable protection. thankfully you have four ex-military retirees to entrust your wellbeing to. but what happens when that protection turns possessive? rating: pg-13 (rating will increase across certain chapters) story pairing: f!reader/task force 141 | chapter pairing: f!reader/price previous chapter | next chapter

would u believe me if i said part of the reason this fic exists in the first place is because i was listening to the mean girls remix and i placed price in the perspective of julian casablancas divorcedly singing about his failed relationships while thinking of the reader frolicking in the back as charli goin "THIS ONE'S FOR ALL MY MEAN GIRLSSSSSSSSSS" 😭😭

-----------------

Price was old.

He was well aware of this.

Whether it was the lumbering and lingering ache of a strained muscle from a campaign that greeted him upon waking up in the morning, or Johnny and Kyle snickering together of his first job being the lad who told Scrooge that it was Christmas Day, Price was well aware of the crows feet by his eyes.

And the refined and honed strength of his backhand across the back of Johnny’s and Kyle’s heads that only decades of experience could provide.

He wasn’t one to keep up with trends, but he was at least aware that buying music wasn’t the same either.

Instead of having his choice of Virgin Records or HMV to stroll up to on a Saturday morning, there was now Spotify or Apple Music on his phone.

It was a curious and nice thing however, to see that you–as a current artist–were still keeping the lost art of physical releases alive with your music.

While standard for you as a pop star, there was something kind and nostalgic to be able to pop open a CD case and pluck a thin shiny disc from within.

Though, here he was with a celebratory cigar in hand at a local pub not too far from the Shangri-La with the others–one that aligned more with their average shared tax bracket–, befuddled at the album that was handed to him, one that looked to be more the size of a Bible than the thin plastic cases of before.

Your first solo album. 

A gift from you to him, Kyle, Johnny, and Simon that was given by your manager–Pearl, a woman whose knife-like acrylic nails, insistence on wearing sunglasses indoors, and an air of Dior perfume and cigarette smoke served as a quick snapshot of a no-nonsense industry veteran–on their way out from the hotel. The introductions and pleasantries were short and curt, her handshake firm and cold before she departed to return to her room upstairs.

Inside the ornate packaging of your album included a lyric booklet that looked to be a mini-photo book instead, pictures of your album’s photoshoot within–so unlike the thin booklets of before.

What did stand out most to him was the small card that featured a photo of yourself on the front and a signature printed on the back.

“Ahh got yerself gold right there, Captain! Her fans would kill ya for that,” Johnny chuckled, brandishing the card he received: the outfit was the same but your pose was different and he wasn’t as fortunate to receive a signature on his.

Neither did Kyle and Simon apparently, the former curiously checking your wiki page on his phone while the latter gleamed through your lyric booklet with nary a word.

Price brought his cigar to his lips for a puff, his eyes trained on your photocard, taking in every detail presented.

From having previously seen you so meek, quiet and shy to now holding a card of you dressed in full glamour, doe eyes gazing up to the camera and–

He glanced further down.

–your dress cut nice and low.

His lips pursed slightly in thought.

Perhaps it wasn’t the most professionally appropriate to be ogling his client or morally appropriate to be ogling the young woman who one of his good friends entrusted her safety to.

But hey–Price simply liked what he saw.

“You wanna trade, boss?”

Price’s gaze flickered over to Johnny, who held out his photocard: it was you with your back turned towards the camera, your eyes fixed in a wink and your fingers fixed in a peace sign. While his question was posed in a light tone, the look on his face was more like that of a puppy.

He returned his gaze to his card.

That look on your face, that revealing dress of yours.

Cigar smoke was held in his mouth a second more before he carefully released it from his lips to keep the heady clouds from floating over your card.

Shifting his eyes back to Johnny’s pleading features, he proceeded to flicker some cigar ash over a nearby tray. “It’s a tough economy out in the world, Johnny.” Practically hearing the Scot’s heart break from across the table, he held up your card once more, tapping on the front a few times–right on your cleavage at that–as he affirmed with a nod and his tone light. “I’ll be keeping this should I need to start bartering at Sainsbury’s.”

Johnny was left to seek comfort from Kyle and Simon for a trade.

“Let me save you some time, mate–I’m keeping mine.”

“Kyle, I didn’t even–Fine, fine. Simon let me see what ya got, yeah? Not like yer actually gonna do anything with it.”

“A picture’s worth a thousand words, Johnny. Hers is 10,000–start tellin’ me why I should give mine to you.”

“Dinnae gimme any of that cheek, ya bastard!”

As this went on, Price tucked your photocard away into the pocket of his bomber jacket, letting his hand linger over the printed rectangle for a moment longer.

Your beauty was worth more than gold, that was for certain.

-----------------

thank you for reading!!! for the warm reception upon debut!!! working on this piece has really reinvigorated a passion and drive for writing and i hope you all enjoy what's in store!!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

and just as a little something something, here's the title of the next chapter:

sweat marks all on my clothes

i wonder who shall be the focus next time !!! 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️

[bullet-prooflove]

11. sometimes my past life still has a hold on me

for Sam Carver please?

Tagging: @kmc1989@mckinleysbones@wnbweasley@saturnsdevilz@star017

Companion piece to:

The Evidence Locker - Sam realises his feelings for you might be reciprocated.

Scars - Sam thinks his emotional scars are too much for you.

Playing For Keeps - Sam regrets what he said about your first night together.

Sometimes you run into someone from your past life, the one before you escaped your father and his gambling addiction. You were twelve years old when he had you take over his pool games because he was too drunk to hold a cue, you learned quickly how to hustle because the prize he was betting wasn’t cash anymore, it was private time with you.

Sam discovers this one night when the two of you are playing in your favourite hall and an older man puts a twenty on the table, claiming the next game. Normally you have no problem taking some asshole’s money but the look on your face in that moment, it makes his blood run cold because it’s the same one he used to have when his parents told him they were leaving him with his brother.

Instead of responding to the challenge, you toss the cue on the table, pick up your stuff and walk out without a word. It takes him almost a block to catch up with you and when he does you’re shaking in a way that he understands has nothing to do with the declining temperature.

“Tell me.” He implores because he can’t stand the sight of you suffering.

“If I tell you it’s going to change things, you’re going to look at me and see something else and I don’t want that.” You tell him, your voice breaking a little as you tuck your hands into the pockets of your leather jacket.

“It won’t.” He tells you resolutely, cupping your face between his hands. “When I told you about my brother, did it change the way you loved me?”

“No.” You say softly as his nose rubbing lightly over yours.

“Then trust me when I say the same.” He whispers and you know he means it.

You tell him everything when you get home, about your father, his friends, the reason you’re frighteningly good at pool. It was a way for you to put food on the table, pay the rent. And losing, it came at a cost, one you hate to think about.

“That man tonight, he was one of them?” He asks you, his thumb tracing soothing circles over that delicate little spot behind your ear, the one that calms you.

“He was my first.” You say quietly. “Twenty dollars was the going rate.”

Twenty dollars for your dignity, it makes Sam want to murder someone.

He goes back to the poolhall the following night while you’re on shift. That man, the one from your past, he’s standing there by that pool table laughing as if nothing ever happened, as if he didn’t abuse a twelve year old girl. Sam spends the evening sitting at the bar, drinking club soda, waiting for the moment he slips out for a smoke and when he does…

He does what exactly what someone should have done for you all those years ago. He beats the shit out of him and he makes it clear that if he ever sees that bastard in your orbit again then he’ll finish the job.

When you get home that night, he doesn’t try to hide his split knuckles, he wants you to know what he did, that he took care of your problem. He wants you to know your safe.

“Thank you.” You say softly because in that moment you realise there’s a little bit of justice in the world. “You don’t understand what it means…”

You choke up a little then and Sam, he draws you close, cradling you against him.

“I do.” He whispers against your hairline. “Trust me I do.”

Love Sam? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[binch-i-might-be]

just went to open up a new jar of instant coffee and it WAS ALREADY OPEN SO I ASKED MY BROTHER IF HE USED IT AND HE WAS LIKE "YEAH IT BEEN THERE FOR LIKE A YEAR AND YOU NEVER USE IT"

I BOUGHT THAT LAST WEEK WITH MY OWN MONEY!!!!!!!

[isolatedcorner]

Don’t wanna hear straight men complain about fujoshis in JJK bc do you know who’s funding Mappa??? Who’s buying merch??? Who’s putting so much effort into bulk buying satosugu badges and acrylic stands and figures that there’s official COUPLE merch??? That they shove the yellow/blue colour scheme and the Uniqlo STSG shirt and the JJK cafe STSG cup down your fucking throat?? “Goatkuna” stanning men are NOT the ones keeping Mappa afloat and they KNOW IT!!! They’re pleasing us!! They’re pandering to us!!!!!!!!!

[nerime]

my coworkers are being turbo transphobic and literally refuse to listen to answers to questions they fucking ask argh!!! I can just tell you!!! I can just answer you!!!!! I have answers!!! to the ridiculous questions you ask in a mocking way!!!! if you listen for one second I can just fucking explain!!!! 😡😭😡😭

[clueless1995]

self care has been so twisted into serving capitalism and the patriarchy it makes me sick actually