#oh there's still so much to unpack in this au

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 3

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (now skeptical!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. A/N: I’ve already outlined the entire thing–now it’s just a matter of writing it, so don’t worry! Even if some chapters take me longer to update, I’m gonna finish this one way or another. Promise. *fingers crossed* Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, reader thinks she’s losing her marbles because of a certain someone

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

“Alright—okay, don’t be stupid,” You chant to yourself as you pace restlessly from the kitchen area of your studio, to the coffee table where you’ve set your phone lying facedown. “Just open the damn thing.” 

You’ve just arrived back at the condo a little past seven PM after a, frankly, productive–if not slightly distracted–day of running errands. You’re home, and you haven’t even got to unpacking the two paper bags (and a box) worth of groceries that were all but thrown carelessly on the kitchen counter, and already, you’re back to stressing over all the weird shit that's been happening lately.

Throughout the afternoon, you tried your hardest to resist the urge to check your phone, especially whenever you see the screen light up–whether it was in your hand or stashed away in your half-zipped fanny pack.

It’s at the most random times too, but always when you act on your unfortunate tendency to monologue your thoughts out loud. 

Sure, it could just be some random push app notifications. Text messages from the few people that hit you up on the weekends–invitations to hang out, maybe. A few newsletters you forgot to unsubscribe from, if you’re unlucky. 

But you think the timing’s far too deliberate to be purely coincidental. 

“Do I get a dozen eggs or just half? What do I even need a dozen for?” (Phone vibrates)

“Oh, hey, Indomie’s on sale if you buy in bulk. How much for a box?” (Screen flashes. Twice.)

“Who the hell is holding up the line, damn–oh, it’s an old lady. Better hurry the fuck up, grandma.” (Screen flashes) “...Sorry! I didn’t mean that.” 

“Ughhh… my tummy hurty…” (Phone vibrates) “What—” 

“Everything’s perfectly normal. Just your average, sunny Saturday! You are an independent, capable adult… who’s fucking losing it.” (Screen flashes–after a minute interval) 

Of course, you have an inkling as to what’s–or who’s–blowing your phone up; in fact, he’s never left your mind since this morning.

So presently, you’re in the middle of having a small existential crisis over what that means, for you and your sanity. No big deal. 

You puff out your cheeks for a couple of seconds before letting out a deep breath. Don’t be a pussy. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to all of this. You’re–you’re not crazy. 

Landing heavily down in front of the low table, you finally grab your phone, hand shaking with the teensiest amount of trepidation. Not giving yourself any more time to think and second-guess, you flip it over, switching it back to Ring mode as you swipe up to see—

—a barrage of notifications; one popping up after another. 

Some of them are what you’ve expected: plain, old push notifications from banking apps, others from varying socials. There’s one from your mom. A reminder to email her the flight tickets you still haven’t gotten around to booking yet. 

And. Six banner notifications from the game. From… from–him. It’s something you’ve already braced yourself for. It doesn’t prepare you, however, for what they actually said. 

A knot grows in your chest, spreading rapidly like slithering twine as your mind tries, and somewhat fails, to make sense of what your eyes are seeing. 

Grab a dozen, sweetie. It won’t add much to the total cost, and you need that protein every morning. Cereal’s not gonna cut it. 

You really ought to lessen your sodium intake, kitten. (and) Do NOT get the box. Stop. 

Haha. A feisty one, aren’t you? 

Mmm, poor baby.

I– we can talk about this later when you get home.

Each notification contains a completely unique dialogue you’ve never seen before. A play-by-play commentary specifically in response to you— to your personal remarks from earlier, spoken out loud— that there is absolutely no way anyone could still pass it off as simply being system-generated. 

A faint ringing echoes in your ears as you slowly draw back, putting some distance between the onslaught of text and… you. You can’t seem to tear your gaze away from the screen, though. Even if the back of your head bumps against the seat edge of the sofa behind you from how far you’ve already leaned back. 

Blinking in stunned silence, the only thing you could croak out is a strained “what the fuuuck.” 

... Ping!

Still mustering the courage to face me? Don’t keep me in suspense, darling. 

The sudden message jolts you back to reality. You suck in a deep breath.

… Despite everything, you can’t help but find his nonchalant response to your gradual spiral into hysterics–because he knows–a little amusing. Also rude. But mostly funny. 

(It’s also probably just your brain’s last-ditch effort to find some semblance of control, but whatever.)

At this point, you know that you’re merely delaying the inevitable. Swallowing, you press on one of Sylus’ messages and it immediately boots up the game. 

Instead of soothing your nerves like it usually does, the orchestral background music from the loading screen puts you more on edge; your anxiety builds up to a crescendo, harmonious to the heralding of what you know will undoubtedly change the trajectory of your life. 

Dramatic, but true. 

48%... 82%... 98%...

There’s a hollow drop in your stomach when the screen–finally–reveals the familiar sight of the café. The golden ambient light enters your field of vision for a split second before your eyes flit reflexively to the man standing in the middle of the screen, whose presence commandeered your full attention.

He’s wearing his motorcycle jacket–the black one with the red and white thorn(?) accents, paired along the pair of leather pants with the iconic double zipper. Aside from the black zircon studs, he’s not wearing anything out of the ordinary. Nothing is looking out of the ordinary, actually. 

Holding your breath, you wait for the other shoe to drop. 

“Are you waiting for me to say hello? Then–” Sylus muses with an amused lilt to his voice, sauntering closer to flick “my” forehead. There’s a beat before he continues: “That’s my way of saying hello.” 

… Huh? 

That’s—this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. You… you don’t know what you were expecting, but this wasn’t it.

The man in front of you doesn’t look any different from how he usually does; the way that his… character animation (Should you call it that? It doesn’t seem right, given the circumstance, but you don’t know how best to describe anything anymore) flows is so–-so infuriatingly… normal. As if it’s just like any other day that you’ve logged in the game. 

Where did the sentience go? Why is he reciting lines he’s programmed to say? None of it adds up.

Your mouth tries to form words, but nothing comes out. With wide eyes, you helplessly gape at him. Speechless. For a moment, you feel like you’ve actually gone mad. 

A small “what’s happening?” slips past your lips. Your eyes dart across his face, trying to analyze every microexpression, any hint of sentience on him–in his eyes, in his movements. 

You find none. 

Mechanically, you exit the game.

“What the actual fuck?” You whisper-shout at nothing in particular, and maybe to the biggest cause of your current disconcertion; one who you thought… Who you were sure was—

-

-

Fuck it. It’s time to put your detective skills to work.

[raeofgayshine]

*stares at the ceiling* I know I haven’t talked much about bird au but I cannot stop thinking about

The first time Tim comes over to the Wayne’s. Jason had finally convinced him to stay the night, and though Tim is hesitant because he’s not supposed to show his wings, he figures he can stand binding them a few extra hours that day, and just hoped the rest of the family wouldn’t question it like Jason hadn’t.

Anyways, what I’m thinking of in particular is that night when they’re watching a movie, and Bruce has joined them because of course he has, he likes hanging out with his kids and he’s heard enough about Tim that he wants to get to know him.

Jason is leaning on Bruce and is mostly covered by one of his wings, as per his favorite spot. And they’re watching the movie (Pride and Prejudice, and Jason is being such a nerd about it, pointing out like “Oh they changed Jane’s bird from the books.” “They actually had to dye all of Darcy’s feathers for this.” “That’s not the real call, they were trying to fake it but they couldn’t get it right.” This isn’t important but I wanted to include it because I love my boy.)

At the end of the movie, Bruce says it’s time for bed. Jason starts to argue because it’s not even that late, and almost instantly they turn from using words to using bird calls. Bruce’s chainsaw like noise, firm in its stance the boys need their rest. Jason’s own screeching disapproval, sounding like a broken alarm clock, insisting they should stay up longer.

They argue for a few minutes using only the sound of their birds. And from the other end of the couch Tim stares, first in confusion, and then awe, and then finally a crushing ache of jealousy and loneliness. Because his parents never used their bird calls. Not towards each other, not towards Tim, not even with their friends. Tim thinks he could count on one hand the times he’s heard either of their calls. And never in response to him.

Much like their feelings about wings, Tim’s parents believed using bird calls was unsightly. Sure, if you had one of the pretty chirping noises it was fine, but for anyone else it could only hurt your social status. His parents were both swans, and they hated their calls with a passion. They never used them, and Tim was never meant to use his. The few times he had heard their calls, they had slipped out. Usually when one of them was yelling about something.

And Tim knew, logically, that other families used their calls. It was talked about, how despite making different noises families learned how to understand each others bird calls, and they could use them to communicate in a language no one else could understand. He knew it happened, but he had never heard it in person.

Not until that day. Sitting on the couch, watching as Bruce and Jason argue, both of them with bird calls his parents would cringe at hearing. As if it was no big deal, something that they did every single day. All while Jason was still wrapped up in Bruce’s wing.

And I’m laying here thinking about Tim, who in that moment realizes there was a connection he needed that he never had. He never knew how much he desperately wanted to call out and have his parents call in return, for them to understand each other through their other language, one that he was never taught and was never given a chance to use. And it hurts, so much, all at once, to stare at Jason and Bruce, a chosen duo of family, who understood each other so fluently in their language they could have entire conversations.

This was the start of the end for Tim, though he didn’t realize it then. The start of him realizing how much he was hurting by hiding such a huge part of him, which eventually will lead to him learning to embrace his wings and everything else about him.

[wasitforrevenge]

oh sweetheart

pairing: boxer! ellie williams x f reader au

word count: 1.9k

rating: 18+

warnings: boxer!ellie, drinking, smoking, cursing, creepy guy but ellie comes to ur defense!! ellie has lots of tattoos, fighting, threats, idk if im missing anything (no character description or anything specific)

summary: you didn't expect to meet her on this night out.

authors notes: hi friends! this is my first time writing and posting on here hopefully you enjoy, please reblog, like or follow! lets be mutuals :) anyways feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated! ellie williams has me on my hands and knees!!! i hope you enjoy! i like the idea of making this a series if it works out and ppl like it, so pls let m know!! thank you :)

PART 1 | part 2

series masterlist <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

loud. everything is loud. the smell of sweat and blood stains the air around you. the sounds of people cheering and shouting towards the center of the large room. the lights are buzzing above you as you are walking into the entrance of the shitty run down gym your brother, jesse, and his girlfriend, dina, ended up dragging you to tonight.

you didn't mind coming along with him but this wasn't what you expected to be doing tonight. after a long shitty week of unpacking your new apartment, you kinda just wanted to end up a hole in the wall bar and drink your stress away but he had other plans. which including watching grown men beat the shit of each other for their cut at the end of the night.

it was intimidating, walking through the crowds of people you didn't know until you finally make it to where his friends were waiting for you guys. they were sitting at a table with a clear shot of the fight which was surprising since the whole place seemed to have more people in it then it could fit. you make your way awkwardly to the empty seats saying a gentle "hello guys" to your brothers friends who you didn't knowl. you sat next to dina as jesse made his way to the bar with your drink orders.

after you graduated highschool, you moved to new york and spend 4 years there working in a small cafe you lived above but now at the start of the summer, still not sure what you should be doing with your life. now you're 22 and you've moved to the city of jackson to be closer to your older brother and his girlfriend. you were excited to start fresh in a place where no one knew you yet, you were ready to leave your old life and those toxic things in the past. but you wondered if it was even possible.

you spend the next hour talking with dina and catching up on the things that have happened since you moved, "have you started looking for jobs yet?" she asked as you both sipped on the second drink of the night that jesse went and brought back a bit ago. you've only met a couple times in person since they started dating about 2 years ago but you loved her, she was making this night a lot better. "not much luck yet, i don't know what to do, luckily i have some time to figure something out." you responded. she went to say something but then the loud speakers around the room started blaring music and the countdown to the match that was about to start.

jesse tapped dinas shoulder to go watch with the rest of them. dinas eyes met yours and asked, "are you coming up?" you started getting nervous as the people started getting louder and crowding towards the center ring and told her that you'll stay here and watch. they both nodded and said they'd be back when it was over.

you took this opportunity to finally go get some fresh air since the crowd isn't all over anymore and it was a straight shot to the door you came in, you walked over to the side of the building, definitely feeling the drinks you had, you let your back rest against the concrete wall, finally cooling you down on this hot summer night. there's people standing outside talking but they payed no attention to you. you stayed against the wall as you pull out the cigarette pack from the pocket of your thin dark green jacket and the lighter out of your back pocket in your jean shorts. you cursed yourself for not buying more but its a bad habit and you know it. you pulled one out and put it in your lips as you brought the lighter up and took a drag, finally letting the anxiety go as you stared off into the sky.

"excuse me miss, you shouldn't be out here alone, a beautiful girl like you," a man with a rough voice said but you didn't move to look, suddenly wishing you never left your apartment to begin with, "hello i'm talking to you, its not nice to ignore people, ya know," he slurred his words as he spoke. you turned your head as you went to tell him to leave you alone but instead, he was standing in front of you before you knew it you dropped your smoke and now he's practically cornered you.

he was so close you could smell the alcohol on his breathe as he spoke again, "now are you gonna talk to-" you leaned away from him as he was interrupted by the sound of a door opening a few feet away, he looked towards it but then turned back to you just as quick, almost touching you as he went to speak again but he was beat to it.

"get off her." you didn't even realize the door had opened until you heard her.

the man looked back towards the door to the figure in the light, he squinted and when he got a good look, he suddenly backed off and put his hands up. "hey hey i wasn't doing nothin- it was nothing!" he shouted back to whoever was next to the still open door, light shining into the alley.

the door slams and the light fades as the figure walks closer towards you and your eyes meet the deep green eyes of the person who just saved you as she turned to the man who was just cornering you against the wall.

"it doesn't look like nothing, i mean, really? you're fucking joking right?" she questioned him as she looked him right in the eyes.

"i said it was nothing- she was flirting with me and-" he was cut off as she laughed loudly. "yeah you're full of shit, get the fuck out of here and don't let me see you again or you'll regret it." she said as she stepped closer towards him, almost at the same height, he looked scared of her. "okay, okay- fuck 'm leaving!" he slurred one last time as he turned around and headed the opposite way of the run down gym.

you stood there as the interaction happened, not sure what to do or say yet, you were silent as he walked off, and those green eyes met yours again and you saw her lips moving as she was speaking but you caught nothing she said. "hey, you okay there?" she asked you as she went to stand in front of you, looking you up and down, checking if you're psychically okay while she gave you a second to process before she asked you again.

"hey sweetheart, you okay?" she asked and grabbed your arm, not in a way that the man would have but like she was actually making sure you were okay, and this time you finally heard her.

"h- yes im okay, just- fuck- yes thank you." you said finally getting a good look at her now that she's up close and touching you. her eyes were greener than you thought, her short auburn hair with some pulled back into a bun, the big moth tattoo wrapped around her right forearm that was still holding onto yours, other tattoos littered her arms and some poking out under her t-shirt she was wearing. she was so close to you and it sent butterflies through your body. now is not the time, you thought to yourself.

"are you sure- 'm sorry that happened, fuck him." she said roughly, not towards you but him.

"its okay, thank- thank you for helping me" you said gently to the girl who was still looking into your eyes. you had been so focused on hers that you didn't even see the tiny scars, small healing cuts and the bruises that were fading until you looked over her face again.

"yeah of course, are you here alone?" she asked you curiously still holding on to you, you weren't even phased by it. you told her you were here with your brother and she nodded her head towards the door, "lets get you back to him before anything else happens sweetheart" she said as she guided you to the door, hand on your back, as you swallowed and went first.

suddenly all the sounds that you had not realized you had been blocking begin again, smells of the sweaty bodies surround you again and you felt too hot, either because of her or the summer heat trapped in here. once you made it inside, she moved her hand off the small of your back and told her to go find your brother and to get home safe. when she walked away, you realized you didn't even know her name.

you saw dina, sitting along with a few of jesses friends and made your way over to her. the match must've ended while you were outside. you walked through the gym to sit back down, moving carefully to avoid touching anyone. once you made it to the table, dina wondered where you had ran off too. "oh just went out to get some fresh air," you said back to her smiling, not wanting her to worry. she told you jesse went to get more drinks and after the encounter outside, you needed it.

jesse came back a few moments later, holding a round of shots for you three. "here you ladies go," he spoke with a happy look on his face. you smiled slightly back and took the glass as dina laughed at him. you took the shot, trying to forget what happened outside with the man but not what happened with her. you wondered if you would see her again. is she here to watch? could she work at the bar? is she here with friends too? your thoughts were interrupted by an announcement over the speaks that the final match was gonna start soon.

dina and jesse were telling you, "its the last one tonight and the last ones are always the best so lets go!" you would rather sit and order another drink, but what if something else happened cause you were alone? so reluctantly you got up with them and got closer to the middle ring, you heard the loud speakers announcing the boxers as they entered the ring. you weren't even paying attention, nothing could stop your mind racing with thoughts about the girl outside.

you shake yourself out of the trance when dina reaches over to you to touch your hands that were shaking but you didn't even realize, you look to her and give her smile that she returns, then she looks back to the ring and you turn your head to follow her eyes to the center. and your breathe caught.

thats her.

thats the girl who saved you outside.

the girl with her hands wrapped in tape and the mouthguard in.

the girl who wondered if she'd ever see you again either, not that you knew that, but she hoped it wasn't the last time.

you wondered what she thought as you both stared back at each other. you heard the coach start the countdown. you just watched her.

...5

...4

...3

...2

as the buzzer started, she smiled directly at you then turned to throw the first punch.

[jobean12-blog]

Next Door to Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Neighbor AU)

Word Count: 3,188

Summary: When you made the move to the city you never expected your new neighbor to be so sweet and helpful...or hot.

Author's Note: Because why not! Moving in across the hall from Bucky would be a dream, one I'd like to live out please and ty haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty, teasing and tension, a curse or two or three, Bucky is impatient and cocky in the best way!

Last week

Your tired, fuzzy slipper clad feet drag along the floor as you trudge toward the door across the hall. You’re hoping someone is home. Someone who has sugar. Anyone.

You let out a quick exhale and lift your chin before rapping your knuckles against the wood. A frown starts to mar your forehead when you hear a sleepy mumble come from inside the apartment.

Shit, fuck, shit you woke him up. It’s a guy. Of course it is…because you don’t look like you just rolled off your mattress that still has no bedframe and tripped over twenty-five unopened boxes…etc, etc.

The door swings open revealing said guy…a hot-as-fuck guy. Naked, except for his unbuttoned jeans.

Oh hi neighbor.

Before you can stop it, your gaze instantly drops to the dark trail of hair below his bellybutton, framed by a set of abs that you could dry your laundry on.

You reel yourself in and lift your eyes to his which does nothing to help your declining focus. His hair is perfectly mussed from sleep, his chiseled jaw shadowed with dark stubble and his incredible blue eyes lined by dark lashes.

His hands are planted on either side of the door frame and with every passing second you’re mesmerized by flexing muscles in his chest and arms.

He drags a lazy hand through his unkept hair and smiles. Knowingly. Smugly.

“Can I help you doll?”

“Um…hi. I’m sorry if I woke you…it’s just…I moved in yesterday and haven’t gone shopping yet and I have no sugar. I need my coffee.”

“So you’re my new neighbor,” he croons. ���Lucky me.”

You audibly swallow and hold up your coffee cup pleadingly.

“I’ll take care of ya doll.”

With a wink he holds up one long finger.

“Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back with that sugar.”

He spins on his heel and walks toward what you’re guessing is the kitchen and it should be considering your apartments are mirror images of each other.

You step inside and stand by the door to wait. You hear him rummaging around and then hear a crash followed by grumbled curses.

Before you can react the cutest white cat saunters out of the kitchen, looking quite proud with his fluffy tail held high and blue eyes unblinking.

“That’s Alpine,” he yells from the other room. “Don’t let his cuteness fool you. He’s a menace!”

You let your laughter ring out and then kneel down to give Alpine some scratches. The cat instantly warms up to you and presses himself against your leg, purring loudly.

“Ah, of course he likes you.”

You look up at the sound of your neighbors voice and reluctantly give up petting Alpine to take the offering of sugar.

“Thank you….?”

“Bucky,” he finishes for you. “Name’s Bucky.”

“Thanks Bucky,” you say with a smile and then introduce yourself.

You look back down at the cat that is now circling between Bucky’s bare feet. “And Alpine really is cute. I can’t imagine he’s a menace.”

“Just wait until you get to know him,” Bucky says. “Can I get you anything else doll?”

“No. Thank you and again I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“No problem at all. I had a late night at the office and I was just being lazy. If you need anything else just come by. Anytime.”

His lips turn up in a boyish grin and he winks again.

You can feel his eyes on you as you turn and walk out into the hall and toward your apartment. Just as you push your door open you look over your shoulder and catch him staring, his teeth dug deep into his bottom lip.

The knock at your door startles you from your unpacking trance and from your spot on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and a mess of things, you ask, “who is it?”

“It’s Bucky…and I have food.”

Your smile is impossible to hide and you shout back, “come in!”

Bucky appears in the doorway with a pizza box.

“Hiya doll face,” he chimes. “I figured you’d need some fuel.”

You drag yourself out of the mess on the floor and hop up onto the edge of the counter.

“Thanks Bucky. I really appreciate it, but you’re spoiling me. What is it now…the third time this week you’re feeding me?”

He hands you a slice and then stands there, watching while you take a bite.

“And why not? You need to eat and I love to eat, might as well do it together!”

You laugh through your bite. “Then what motivated you to help with my furniture?”

He shrugs and grabs a slice of pizza, shoving half into his mouth before he answers.

“Perfect opportunity to show off my muscles.”

He waggles his brows suggestively and flexes a bicep.

“Double win for me,” you admit, licking your lips. “How will I ever repay you.”

He remains quiet for several moments while he studies you then asks, “how about a real dinner?”

“Pizza is the realest dinner there is!” you state with a mouthful.

“Let me take you out. For something other than pizza.”  

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Would you say yes if I were?”

Your legs swing back and forth at the knee as you finish your bite and then place your slice of pizza down. You reach over the box and grab the marker you left out on the counter, placing it between your lips.

Watching him from under your lashes, you take his arm and roll up the sleeve of his Henley and when your fingertips make contact with the sensitive skin on his underside of his forearm you can feel his muscles tighten.

Your mouth curves around the marker at his reaction and you pluck it from between your lips and start writing on his skin.

“Now you’ve got my number. Text me and we’ll pick a date for our date.”

“Thank you,” he says, leaning in close and dropping his eyes to your mouth.

Your lips part with your small gasp of air and when his thumb lifts to brush along the corner of your mouth you let out a rush of air.

“Sauce,” he states before he licks his finger clean, his gaze locked on yours.

You nod as he steps back and pulls out his phone to dial your number on his arm. Your phone rings and he says, “and now you’ve got mine.”

You spend the rest of your weekend unpacking and doing errands, running into Bucky only once in a frantic rush of laundry. He offers to help but you know if you let him you’ll become distracted and never get anything done. The two of you text back and forth, deciding on Saturday for your official date. No pizza involved.

The next morning you get another text from him.

“Morning doll face. Don’t forget an umbrella. Gonna rain later today.”

“Are you the weather man now?” you message back, smiling at your phone.

“Nah. Just a friendly neighbor.”

“Did you tell everyone in the building about the rain and remind them to bring an umbrella.”

“Just you…”

“Thanks, but I’m already half way to work sans umbrella.”

“Damn it. I knew I should have texted earlier. Now if you get caught in the rain it’ll be all my fault.”

“Hardly! I should have checked the weather. Can’t rely on you for everything can I?”

He sends a wink face.

“Is it Saturday yet?”

“Still only Monday morning. What’s Saturday?”

“Don’t tease me doll. I’ve been looking forward to this date since you showed up at my door lookin’ for sugar.”

“Have a good day Bucky.”

“You too doll��stay dry.”

You’re only two blocks from your apartment building when the sky opens up and the rain comes down in buckets. By the time you reach the doors you’re soaked through and cursing at yourself for forgetting an umbrella.

The door attendant lets you in with a sympathetic smile and as you’re sloshing past him and toward the elevator you hear Bucky’s voice.

“Oh doll. Look at you.”

He tugs his mail from the box and slams it shut, rushing toward you and taking your arm.

“Soaked,” you say sadly.

“I can see that,” he muses with a twitch of his perfect lips. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and dry.”

The elevator doors open and you step inside with a shiver. He immediately starts to pull your jacket from your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” you ask without stopping him.

“You have to get out of this jacket. I’m sure your shirt is….”

He stops speaking when his eyes catch sight of your white button down, soaked through so that you can see the lace of your bra outlined against the fabric.

“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging his eyes back to your face. “Here.”

He shrugs off his damp jacket and then takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

“But it’ll get all wet,” you protest.

“Don’t care. You can’t walk out of the elevator like that.”

His jaw is set in a hard line as his fingers work over the scruff that lines it. The elevator dings at your floor and he takes your hand, leading you out and checking the hallway.

“Why are you looking around like that?” you ask.

He turns back to you and tugs you closer. “I don’t wanna anyone seeing you.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I’ll have to kill them,” he states.

“Someone is acting a little jealous,” you giggle.

“Yeah well…we haven’t even had our first date yet. Can’t have someone looking at what’s about to be mine.”

“Yours,” you breathe out, not even realizing you’re now standing in front of your apartment door.

With shaky fingers you start to remove his suit jacket but before you can he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Don’t doll. Just keep it for now.”

“But we’re at the door. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but if you take that off then I have to see you in your wet shirt again. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if I do.”

“Control yourself how?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

He responds with a pained groan before his mouth meets yours and he has you pressed against the door.

Even though your shirt is soaked through and your skin is cold you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself and he lifts one hand to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

Your scrape your nails along his broad shoulders and he moans out your name.

“Fuck, I love having your hands on me.”

The desperation in his voice has you arching into him and you drop your head against the door, giving him access to trail his lips down your neck. Your fingers slide into his hair and tug at the soft strands. He growls into your skin and scrapes his teeth over your pulse point making you gasp his name.

“Oh I like that,” you whisper.

He does it again.

“You’re going to like everything I do to you doll face.”

His lips graze yours and he swallows your whimper, crowding you closer to the door before muttering out a curse and letting you both take a breath.

“Is it Saturday yet?” he asks, still breathless.

“Still Monday,” you answer, feeling just the same.

“Right,” he says, planting his hands on the door above your head and dropping his head forward.

A door down the hall opens and he pauses, straightening his body to hide your own. You both smile at the older lady who walks by with a questioning look.

When Bucky’s eyes return to you they drop to where he spread his jacket open to put his hands on you, your shirt sticking to your wet skin even more now.

He stares before reluctantly dragging his eyes up and taking the sides of the material and pulling them tightly around you.

You tremble.

“Still cold?” he asks, his eyes soft with worry.

“Hardly,” you answer and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“See you later Bucky.”

“I’m counting on it doll.”

You spend the rest of the week juggling your time between work, texting Bucky and sleeping. You’ve only seen him once since Monday evening and that was for five minutes when he caught you coming home again but this time he had his friend Steve with him and there was no chance for any kissing.

Saturday morning rolls around and you wake up to a text from him.

“It is finally Saturday or am I dreaming?”

“It’s really Saturday!”

“Thank fuck! Can we start our date now?”

“No…I have to do girly things and prepare.”

“What kinds of things….?”

“I’ll see you tonight Buck.”

You can almost hear his groan through the phone.

“I’ll be at your door at 7 sharp.”

Bucky knocks on your apartment door at exactly the same time your phone clock hits 7:00pm. You grin at your best friend Nat before she gets up and walks toward the door.

“Oh girl. He’s hot!” a muffled voice says from the other side.

It isn’t yours so Bucky assumes it’s your friend.

“He’s at least a nine.”

Bucky scoffs, muttering, “a nine?” quietly to himself.

“Hey, I can hear you in there. Are you gonna open the door?” he asks the unknown voice.

The door swings open to reveal a red head who looks him over with two scrutinizing green eyes.

“Hi,” he smiles, holding out his hand. “I’m Bu…”

“Bucky,” she finishes. “I know who you are…question is…do you know who I am?”

“You must be Natasha,” Bucky answers with a smug smile.

“That’s right and I’m a black belt in jiu jitsu so you do anything I don’t like and I will end you.”

Bucky’s eyes light up and he watches Nat as she moves toward the kitchen.

“You almost ready doll face,” he yells, not taking his eyes off Nat in case she goes for a knife.

“I’m right here,” you say.

Bucky turns to find you standing right in front of him. His mouth drops open as his eyes sweep you up and down.

“This is where you say she looks amazing,” Nat admonishes from the kitchen, dangerously close to the knife rack.

However, Bucky’s eyes never leave you and when he steps into your space and wraps you in his arms, pulling you into his chest, you let out a squeal of delight.

“You look fucking gorgeous,” he says, loud enough for Nat to hear, then whispers, only for your ears, “I want to rip this dress off you.”

Your lips spread into a sly smile. “We made the right choice Nat.”

“Of course we did,” she chimes. “Now go. I’ll lock up.”

“I’m so ready,” he says, ushering you toward the door, but not before turning to Nat, still in the kitchen eyeing him warily, and asking, “I’m good with a nine, but just out of curiosity, what did I lose a point for?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it in front of you?” Nat asks.

“I wanna hear it too Nat,” you say, raising an expectant and skeptical brow.

“You didn’t shave.”

He runs the free hand, the one not wrapped around your waist, over his jaw.

“I didn’t get any complaints earlier this week,” Bucky says, eyes now sparkling with mischief.

“He’s right Nat,” you add. “I like it.”

Nat rolls her eyes and shoos you away.

Once you’re safely in the elevator and away from prying eyes Bucky invades your space, plastering you against the cool metal wall and caging you there with his large body.

“It almost killed me to not be kissing you for the past five minutes,” he says against your lips.

When you press into him and slide your body along his it sucks the breath right out of his lungs and fills them with something else. Need.

The kiss pulls a throaty groan from him and his belt buckle digs into your skin, the muscles hidden beneath his clothes, pressing and flexing over the thin material of your dress.

The elevator door dings and begins to slide open, causing you to give his chest a gentle shove.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks as he lifts a finger and traces your swollen lips.

“That would suck,” you reply. “I kind of like having you as a neighbor.”

After a delicious dinner at a roof top restaurant down town, Bucky walks you along the street, hand in hand, as you listen and laugh to his childhood stories about growing up in Brooklyn.

“Where are we going now?” you ask.

“It’s a surprise,” he says as he twirls you into his side and presses his fingers under your chin to steal a kiss.

As you get closer to your destination the bright lights sparkle and the smell of the ocean is carried on the warm breeze.

“Which bridge is that?” you ask with awe.

“The Brooklyn Bridge,” he tells you and grabs your hand to pull you along. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

When you reach the top of the look out he slides an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest.

“This is so beautiful Bucky,” you whisper.

He kisses your cheek and takes your chin between his fingers, turning your face up to his. “I always thought it was the most beautiful thing in the city…but not anymore.”

You’re thankful for his strong arms holding you up and after a sweet kiss you enjoy the view in comfortable silence for a few more minutes but his hands start to wander, soft and sure, and with each passing touch your body aches for more.

His warm breath fans across your neck and his arm moves lower until his hand grasps your hip and he pulls you back to feel the hardness between his legs.

You suck in a breath and fight the urge to move against him.

With a curse he pulls away and grabs your hand, dragging you toward the park under the bridge. The only lights come from the lit-up buildings across the street and when he finds a hidden spot he backs you against the cold stone but you’re too hot to care.

“Bucky,” you whisper as your hands roam over his broad chest.

His mouth brushes yours before he gently nips at your bottom lip.

“I can’t even keep my fucking hands off you long enough to bring you home,” he murmurs.

His fingers find the hem of your dress and he slides them under, slowly teasing the fabric higher until his hand brushes over the wetness on your panties.

“Please, Bucky,” you pant.

“Fuck, I love hearing you say my name like that,” he growls. “I need to get you home so I can hear you scream it for me.”

@hiddles-rose @littleseasiren @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

[solarmorrigan]

Everybody's Dying to Be Here

For the @steddie-spooktober day 12 prompt: Graveyard Rated: T | Words: 1561 | CW: suicidal thoughts (vague; you don't necessarily have to take it that way) | Tags: pre-relationship, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson friendship, Steve Harrington needs a hug, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, in his own way, post-season 2 AU Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie has been coming to the graveyard to smoke for years.

It’s not really that he can’t smoke at the trailer; his uncle knows he smokes, has bummed cigarettes off of him before, says he figures there are worse habits for Eddie to pick up, it's just that it’s peaceful there.

There are hardly ever people around, and if there are, they’re not really inclined to talk. Otherwise, there’s a lot of open air, room to walk, green grass, interesting headstones if Eddie’s in the mood to look, and there’s a tree that sits at the top of a gentle slope of a hill that offers a nice view of the surrounding town that can almost make Eddie forget how much he hates the place.

It’s Eddie’s own personal haven.

At least, he'd thought it was.

“You’re in my spot,” Eddie says, staring down at the interloper.

Steve Harrington, who is sitting on top of Eddie’s hill, under Eddie’s tree, turns his battered face up towards Eddie, squinting at him in the sunlight.

“Are you dead?” Steve finally asks.

It’s Eddie’s turn to stare, uncomprehending, at Steve. “Nooo,” he says slowly. “Are you concussed?”

Steve holds up his forefinger and thumb, pinched together to indicate a little bit, and it’s been almost two weeks since he first showed up at school looking like someone had tried to turn his face into mincemeat, the bruising now all sickly yellow and brown, and Eddie realizes he has no idea how long concussions last. A while, apparently.

“Anyway, if you’re not dead, I don’t think you can have a spot in the cemetery,” Steve says with a shrug, and–

Well.

“Touché,” Eddie says, plopping down next to Steve beneath the tree.

He pulls his cigarettes out, shakes one from the box, and then, because his uncle didn’t raise a complete savage, he tilts the box at Steve in offering. Steve begs off with a shake of his head and Eddie shrugs, lighting up and taking a drag.

“So,” he says on his first breath of smoke, “what brings King Steve out among Hawkins’ illustrious dead?”

For one, long minute, Steve says nothing, and just when Eddie thinks he’s being ignored, Steve lets his head fall back against the tree and murmurs, “Just wanted somewhere quiet to be, I guess.”

“Oh? The life of partying royalty getting to be a bit much for you?” Eddie asks.

He knows he isn’t being entirely fair; Steve’s never really done anything to Eddie, personally, and for the latter half of last year and the beginning of this one, he’s actually been pretty decent. Fairly quiet, if nothing else, mostly hanging off of Nancy Wheeler and keeping his head down. In any case, Steve doesn’t seem to take offense, just lets out a little breath of unamused laughter and continues staring out over the town.

“Kinda realized that most of the people I used to party with were dicks, and I didn’t want to be around them anymore,” he says. “Nance– she and I aren’t… together anymore, so I can’t really hang out with her. My dad’s still pissed at me for getting into a fight, so I can’t stay home. The twelve-year-old who thinks I’m responsible for him now is actually cool, but god he can be loud, and I just wanted some quiet, so… here I am.”

There’s… a lot to unpack there. Like, so much to unpack. Eddie has questions. Many questions.

Somehow, though, he doesn’t think his prying would be appreciated, so all he offers is, “Damn. Scraping the bottom of the barrel, then, huh? Hanging out with the school freak.”

“To be fair, I didn’t actually know you’d be out here,” Steve says, sending Eddie a sidelong smirk to let him in on the joke. “Didn’t know I was stealing your spot, either.”

Because Eddie can hardly be mad at him for it now, he just shrugs. “Eh. It’s a free graveyard. I think.” Eddie pauses, blinking down at the headstones spread out before them. “Damn, do you think you have to pay to be buried? That’d be fucked up.”

“I have no idea,” Steve says. “Pretty sure you have to pay for a tombstone, at least.”

“Shit. Society, man.” Eddie shakes his head. “Finding ways to squeeze money out of you even after death.”

“I guess,” Steve says vaguely.

He doesn’t really seem like he’s interested in continuing the conversation, and Eddie guesses that’s fair enough. He’d come out here expecting to be alone, and Eddie had come out expecting the same. He’s not even sure why he’s trying to engage Steve Harrington in conversation at all, except that there’s something a little– lost about him right now, and that’s always drawn Eddie in like a cat to a sunbeam.

That doesn’t mean Steve actually needs him, though, so Eddie lets them both lapse into silence.

He’s just about finished his cigarette when Steve speaks again, almost startling Eddie.

“D’you ever think about where you’d want to be buried?” Steve asks.

“What, like when I die?” Eddie asks, feeling a little slow to pick up on this new turn Steve’s taken them down.

“Yeah,” Steve says.

“Uh… hopefully far away from the shithole,” Eddie says, stubbing his cigarette out in the dirt beside him. “I want to get the hell out of here before I die.”

Steve hums. “Bet you will,” he says after a moment, and that surprises Eddie even more than his original morbid question.

“You figure?” Eddie says, and he’s trying for sarcastic, but he thinks something genuine might have snuck its way into his tone.

“Sure.” Steve shrugs. “You’re ambitious. You’ve gotta be some kind of smart, all those speeches you’re always giving. You want it badly enough, I bet you’ll get out of here.”

“I think the Hawkins Public School system would beg to differ with you on most of those points, Steve,” Eddie says, and Steve shrugs.

“Fuck ‘em, then,” he says simply, and that’s–

In its own, weird way, it’s more faith than anyone other than his uncle has shown in Eddie in what seems like a long time, and Eddie’s not sure how to feel about it.

Steve, oblivious to the way he’s currently shaking Eddie’s worldview, goes on. “I think I want to be buried over there,” he says, pointing to a spot on the west end of the graveyard.

“Near the fence?” Eddie asks, following Steve’s finger.

“Yeah. Looks nice over there. Not too crowded, and there’s roses. Or, I think that’s a rose bush.” Steve squints down at the shrubbery for a moment before shrugging. “Whatever. It just looks nice.”

“I guess,” Eddie says slowly, turning to look at Steve, who doesn’t look back.

“I should probably tell someone,” Steve says, almost as if he’s talking to himself now. “My parents would probably pick somewhere stupid to stick me.”

And– shit.

It doesn’t really sound like Steve’s talking about some hypothetical future time when he dies of old age; it sounds an awful lot more like he doesn’t even expect to outlive his parents – like maybe he’s talking about a much less hypothetical soon.

“You, uh… spend a lot of time thinking about when you’re gonna die?” Eddie asks, and immediately wishes he could suck the words back up, because that is a terrible way to continue this conversation.

Steve shrugs, turning a wry look on Eddie. “Kinda hard not to.”

“Right. Right.” Eddie nods, and – what the fuck?

What the fuck? Is he talking about everything that’s happened recently – all the weird shit in town, or the way he keeps getting his ass kicked, or the way his life has imploded and now he’s thinking about–

“So what’s your plan for the rest of the day?” Eddie blurts out.

“I don’t really have one.” Steve shrugs. “Figured I’d just stay out here for a while.”

Eddie frowns. They’re well into November by now; Steve is wearing a nicer coat than Eddie’s, but it’s still cold out. Too cold to just be sitting outside indefinitely. Eddie’s certainly not going to sit outside indefinitely, but he also gets the feeling that maybe this guy shouldn’t be left alone right now, which is precisely why he finds himself offering, “You wanna come back to mine and watch a movie?”

Steve turns to stare at Eddie, as if this is the weirdest part of the conversation they’ve had.

“Why?” Steve asks.

“Maybe I’m bored, and you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to me all day,” Eddie says, gratified when Steve gives him a little laugh. “It’s more fun watching a movie with someone, anyway. What d’you say?”

Steve watches him for a moment longer, as if he’s searching for something, trying to puzzle Eddie out. He seems to find whatever it is he’s looking for, though, because he finally nods.

“Yeah, okay.”

They stand from beneath the tree and make their way back down the hill, and Eddie hopes his utter confusion isn’t showing on his face as they go. He has no idea how his afternoon reached this point, and he has even less of an idea of what the hell he’s doing, but, as he glances back at Steve, the other boy seems a little lighter as they walk, and he decides that he’s absolutely made the right decision.

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙a slut for being in love | DR3 CL16˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: daniel ricciardo x y/n fem reader (she/her) x charles leclerc x your bff y/bff/n fem (she/her)

genre: social media au, polyamory

warnings: polyamory, fourple

summary: in which your highly unconventional relationship is finally out to the world 🌍

a/n: interesting mixture HAHA sorry if it's chaotic tbh but i really will just write anything im asked for 🙂

request!!!: hi bff can i req y/n x daniel x y/bff/n x charles fanfic pls pls plsssssss 😊

fc: gracie abrams, kennedy walsh

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by yourbff, danielricciardo, and 121,852 others

yourusername who's afraid of little old me

view all 3,726 comments

user1 daniel?!

user2 yea apparently they're dating

user3 cute

yourbff my pretty and perfect girl

yourusername ilysm

yourbff ilym

user4 danny on the facetime🥹

danielricciardo missing you

yourusername !!!! miss you unreal amnts

user5 wait if she isnt with daniel who is in the last pic?

user6 interesting

yourbff

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 88,174 others

yourbff a slut for being in love, if you will

view all 2,173 comments

user7 so much to unpack here

user8 is that y/n?

user9 yea nd pretty sure the guy is charles??

yourusername caption so real

charles_leclerc agree

danielricciardo yup

yourbff knew you guys would get it

user10 the cogs are turning ngl

user11 waiting for the poly theory threads on twt

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

yourbff posted a story

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, and 101,263 others

user16 this gay shi

user17 hello???

danielricciardo oh so we're doing this

yourbff oh yes 👀

user18 scream

charles_leclerc miss you guys

yourbff ofc u do 💋

user19 another one for the fourple truthers

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 417,927 others

danielricciardo reunited x

tagged: yourusername, yourbff, charles_leclerc

view all 8,173 comments

landonorris and i cant even get one girlfriend

danielricciardo skill issue

yourbff you can have me if u want lando

yourusername NO

charles_leclerc no wtf

danielricciardo 🤡

landonorris oh

user20 wtf?????

user21 LOLLLLLL the craziest soft launch of a fourple in the world

user22 y/n and y/bff/n are so gorgeous

user23 charles is so 🥵

yourusername ur telling me

charles_leclerc stop

yourbff no let her speak

yourbff posted a story

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 152,837 others

user24 so who's he looking at

user25 omg cute

user26 this has to be a prank......right?

user27 can't believe this is real life

yourusername ugh he's so hot

liked by yourbff

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by yourbff, landonorris, and 118,174 others

yourusername 100% sober w my babies

tagged: friend1, friend2, yourbff, danielricciardo, charles_leclerc

view all 10,193 comments

user28 her babies 🥺

user29 the last pic AHHH Y/BFF/N AND CHARLES

yourbff pints pints pints

liked by yourusername

user30 i can't believe the fourple is real

user31 im still in shock

user32 they are just best friends who kiss

charles_leclerc i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you

yourusername chat, do you think he loves me?

yourbff i screamed

danielricciardo free my guy

charles_leclerc 😓😓😓

user33 LOL

charles_leclerc

liked by yourbff, yourusername, and 638,194 others

charles_leclerc heyy

tagged: danielricciardo, yourbff, yourusername

view all 13,283 comments

user34 AHHH CUTIES

user35 i stil cant believe this

user36 f1 is changed forever

yourbff heyy

yourusername heyy

danielricciardo heyy

charles_leclerc everyone loves to laugh at me

liked by yourusername, yourbff, danielricciardo

THE END 🫶

[yelenasdiary]

If you weren’t planing on writing it (and as your request are still open I’m going to take advantage of that sorry) can you write your idea of reader being Peggy and dottie daughter and dating Nat but mostly dottie gets overprotective?

Meet The Carters

Pairing: Peggy Carter x Daughter! Reader, Dottie Underwood x Daughter! Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader || High School AU.

Summary: When your mother, Peggy, discovers you have a girlfriend, she asks you to bring her to dinner. When your other mother, Dottie, lays eyes on the girl you've been dating, things take a turn.

Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of Red Room, Overprotective Parent?? Slight Mention of Child Abuse (reader being abandoned and malnourished), Nat is 17, Reader is 16 | K

AC: I finally got around to writing this! At first, I was writing it as a drabble but I got carried away and now it’s a full fic lmao! I hope you enjoy! x

You were unpacking your study books from your backpack when your mother knocked on the door, chewing on an apple slice, she smiled softly at you. 

"Who was that you were hugging just now?" She asked in her thick British accent as she leaned against the door frame. Your cheeks felt warm as you turned to face your mother. "Just a friend" you replied. 

You've been dating Natasha for a few months now, it was still rather new and not a lot people knew, just a few friends. Natasha is a year older than you and you weren't too sure how your mothers would react to the small age gap or how they would react to you dating in general. 

"Oh, come on sweetie, I know a friendly hug when I see one and that wasn't one" you Peggy tease as she took a seat at the end of your bed and watched as you set your homework on your desk ready to tackle after an afternoon snack. 

"Were you spying on me?" You asked with a cocked brow. Your mother chuckled, "I'm afraid that noticing things is a huge part of my job that now just comes naturally outside of work. So, come on, who is she?" 

You couldn't help the growing smile that took over your face, you took a seat next to your mother. She was always the one you got along with a little better. You loved Dottie but sometimes you felt she was a little harder to connect with than Peggy. "Her name is Natasha" you answered, blushing more than you wanted to show. 

"Natasha" Peggy repeated, "How about you invite her to dinner tonight, we'll have pizza and a movie. I want to meet this girl who's making you turn redder than tomato" she added. Playfully, you rolled your eyes but agreed to ask her. 

----

When Dottie came home from work, she hugged you tightly as if it would be the last time she would hug you but you didn't think too much of it and asked how her day was. 

"It was, well, work. How was your day?" she replied. She never spoke about her job or what she did. In fact, you never knew what she did for a living, you once asked when you were around six years old, and she told you she as like mommy and helps take the bad guys off the streets, but her job was super-secret and only mommy knew about it. You never asked her about it again after that.

You were only a year old when Peggy found you abandoned in a dark alley way. She took you to the hospital and called child services, she stayed by your side the entire time you were in the hospital. You were malnourished and very underweight for a baby of your age. When the time came for you to be released from hospital and into the care of child services, Peggy couldn't bare somebody else taking care of you and that's how Peggy became your mother. You were two years old when Dottie and Peggy got married and now you have two mothers. 

"Oh you know, school is, well, school" you replied to tease.

"Very funny" Dottie cocked a brow, "why has mom got the dinner table set?" She asked when she noticed the table was set for four instead of three. You sat down on the sofa and picked up the television remote before working up the nerve to tell her who was coming over. "Uhm, well, my girlfriend is joining us for dinner tonight, it was mom's idea" you replied quickly turning the TV on. 

"Girlfriend? Since when?" Dottie frowned. You chewed your bottom lip, "Since four months ago" you kept your eyes on the TV only to be saved by Peggy just before Dottie could ask anymore questions. 

"Honey, your home!" She smiled, placing a kiss on her wife's lips. 

"Who is this girlfriend that is coming over?" Dottie asked before Peggy dragged her into the kitchen. You couldn't hear much but little whispers here and there. You knew that Peggy was telling Dottie not to overreact and that there would be a time when you would bring somebody home to meet them. 

You tried to listen more but a knock at the door made your stomach flutter with nerves as you got up to answer it. Natasha smiled softly in her leather jacket, jeans, and black tee. "I hope I'm not late" she spoke. You shook your head, "early actually, the pizza hasn't arrived yet" you smiled as you invited her in.

"Just a heads up, Peggy is excited to meet you and Dottie, well, I'm not too sure how she feels. She just found out a moment ago that I had a girlfriend" you rambled. Natasha placed a kiss on your cheek, "it'll be okay" she whispered. 

Your mothers came out of the kitchen, Peggy smiled instantly while Dottie's eyes widened. You didn't want to say anything, but it disappointed you that she wasn't even ready to give Natasha a chance to show how amazing she was. 

"You must be Natasha, it's lovely to meet you" Peggy greeted your girlfriend. 

"Y/n didn't mention you were English" Natasha replied, lying of course. 

"Oh, yes. England born and raised" your mother smiled once more, "this is my wife, Dottie. Don't mind her, she's had long day at work" she added as Dottie stepped forward to shake Nat's hand. She noticed the look of worry on your face and for your sake gave the red head a soft smile, "it's lovely to meet you" Dottie said. 

"Thank you both for having me over tonight, it's a pleasure to meet you both" Natasha replied. 

----

You and Natasha sat across from your parents while the four of you chatted and ate pizza, neither one of your mothers were great cooks so you were glad it was take-away night for Natasha's sake. 

"You mentioned you moved to Ohio, where were you before that?" Dottie asked. If looks could kill, Natasha would've been dead the moment your mother laid eyes on her. During the entire dinner you noticed that your mother was very focused on Natasha while Peggy was more laid back and enjoyed your girlfriend's company. 

"I was actually born in Russia and my family moved to Ohio because of my father's work" Natasha replied, keeping strong eye contact with your mother who didn't seem to relax. 

"Well, Y/n didn't mention you were Russian!" Peggy commented with a chuckle as she referenced Natasha's first comment to her earlier in the night. Natasha chuckled, "Russian born and raised, kinda" she replied. Dottie excused herself from the table, using the excuse to use the bathroom but you knew it was just a way for her to leave the room. You followed after her, Peggy taking a deep breath and offered that her and Nat go outside and enjoy some fresh air. 

"What is your problem mom?" You asked, following Dottie into your parent's bedroom. She turned to you and shook her head, "She needs to leave and you're not to see her again. Do you understand me?" she said sternly. You closed the door behind you to prevent Natasha from hearing anything that left your mother's lips. 

"No, I don't understand! You've known her for a few hours, and you haven't even tried to give her a chance!" You snapped. 

"I don't need too; I know this is hard for you to understand but this is for your safety"

"My safety?! Natasha isn't some criminal you and mom need to take off the streets!" You frowned. 

"She's worse that that! She's exactly the type of person I don't want my daughter around!" Dottie snapped; you've never heard this tone from her before. Her eyes were full of worry which took you back, your mother had never looked at you with so much fear before. "What is it mom?" You asked in a calmer tone. Dottie shook her head, "you need to ask her to leave, and you can't see her again, I need you to trust me" she repeated. 

"No, if you want Natasha to leave, you ask her" you replied before leaving the room to join Natasha and Peggy outside. "Everything okay love?" Natasha asked, placing a hand on your hip while she brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. "Yeah" you sighed, "can we go get some ice cream or something? I don't want to be here right now" you added. 

"Honey, your mom just needs a little time to get used to that fact you're growing up" Peggy inserted herself. 

"No mom, she didn't even give Natasha a chance and you know it!" You looked over at your mom with tears of frustration filling your eyes. "I think I know what this is about" Natasha replied softly, "let me go talk to her" she added, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

"Don't say another word" Dottie's voice made you turn to the back door where she stood. 

"Dottie!" Peggy snapped, "Leave it alone" she added. Your mother's words made you frown, "no, why can't Nat say anything? What is going on?" You demanded answers. 

"I'm not going to lie to her, Dottie, you might but I won't" Natasha looked at your mother before turning to you, "Your mother and I have the same job, it's not even a job. We don't get paid. We're trained at a place called the Red Ro-"

"Natasha!" Dottie interrupted with a stern tone while her eyes burned into Natasha's. "Can I have a word?" She asked. Natasha nodded and followed your mom into the living room while Peggy did her best to keep you from following them. 

"I hoped this day wouldn't come so soon" your mom started. 

"What do you mean mom? Please, can you just tell me what's going on?" you asked with arms crossed over your chest. Peggy sat down on one of the outdoor chairs on the porch, she patted the seat next to her and you took a seat beside her. "Your mom used to work for an organisation called Red Room. I've been working endlessly to try and find the location of this place but it's almost impossible. They take girls, from the street, pay for them and brainwash them. Your mother was trained to kill people…" Your mother went on to explain. 

Tears streamed down your face by the time Peggy had finished explaining everything to you. Now you know everything and the reason why your mother never told you how work was because she's been trying to stay in the organizations good books to get back to head office to give Peggy the location. Natasha is what they call a widow, she's on a mission and being with you was never part of the plan. 

You went inside, not caring about what Nat and your mother were talking about, you walked by Natasha and hugged your mother tightly. She hugged you back just as tight before you let her free and turned to Nat, "so how about that ice cream?" You asked with a soft smile. Natasha read between the lines and nodded, "do you guys want to come?" You asked looking at both your mothers. 

"You know what, ice cream sounds really good right now" Dottie smiled softly, "Natasha, what do you drive?" She asked. 

"A motorcycle" Nat replied. Dottie looked to Peggy then back to Nat, "How about I drive us" she suggested. 

Taglist:  @boredandneedfanfics | @music-4ever | @karmasgxrl | @milkeeteaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @mostlymarvelsstuff | @scarlettbitchx | @mallyka-blog | @itsalwaysskorpioszn | @angel68104 | @x-natsarrownecklace-x | @caporal-nino | @natashamaximoff-69 | @evilcr0ne | @boredandneedfanfics | @teganmiller | @ihavezeroclue13 | @tobiaslut | @anonwhowrites | @itsmelulu | 

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[love-belle]

we caught that holiday glee !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which it doesn't take a genius to know that they're actually the icons.

or

for when you want to spend all of your christmases with them. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - you got me thinking nonsense ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - hahahahaha hiiii!!!! im so SORRY for being absent i've been going insane over school 😭😭😭 it's all just a mess rn (IM IN LOVEEEEE I MET THIS GUY) and hopefully, i can post often but still, i can't promise anything!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES <3 i hope ur all doing okay!!!! i love u all so much :)

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 2,417,916 others

yourusername here's a lil carol i wrote it's abt u and me 🎀

11,628 comments

username SCREECHING TOO MUCH TO UNPACK

username no bc nonsense christmas is so

username everyone shut up im focusing on "i need that charles dickens"

username SANTA DOESN'T KNOW U LIKE I DO

username roman empire or roman empire??? yeah that's what i thought

username somebody sedate me im going feral over nonsense christmas lord

username i know l*ndo ascended to the nth circle of hell after hearing this

username I NEED THAT CHARLES DICKENS

-> username girly did NOT hold back

maxverstappen1 ears are bleeding

-> yourusername ur 26282837 messages crying about cindy lou who say something diff but maybe that's js me

-> maxverstappen1 SHUT

-> username nah cindy lou who is PAINFUL

username charles and y/n 🤝 "what if we hypothetically broke up"

-> username nah bc i KNOW those mfs giggle while writing songs together

username THE TSHIRT OH MY GOF

-> username need that for educational purposes

username "i've been there through the good and the bad" ur honour i am unwell

alex_albon THIS IS WHY HIS NAME IS "north pole💈" IN YOUR PHONE ??????????

-> yourusername says who

-> alex_albon don't gaslight me

-> yourusername gaslighting is not real ur js crazy ☺️

username the lore is revealing itself good lord

username i will never be as iconic as y/n y/l/n and i don't think i can be

username OPPOSITE OF SMALL?? BIG SNOWBALLS?? girl u used to sing for DISNEY

-> yourusername i js need to cut a few words off and then it's the perfect disney anthem wdym 🙄🙄🙄

-> username start "cutting a few words" and the whole song is GONE 😭

username i played this in front of my mom y'all what am i supposed to DO

username WHAT'S 12-4???? YEAH

lewishamilton certainly an experience listening to this for the first time, seb and i are proud of you xx

-> yourusername i love my unofficial parents thank u xx

username i am unwell.

charles_leclerc so proud of you mon ange ( my angel )

-> yourusername thank YOU for writing songs with me ☹️

charles_leclerc forever and ever in awe 🥰

-> yourusername i love you

username THE TSHIRT OMG

-> username it's a need fr

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 2,528,916 others

charles_leclerc we caught that holiday glee

tagged yourusername

comments are disabled for this post

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

We're so back baby! Happy weekend everyone, apologies for the delay whilst I've been away travelling. I HAVE been reading lots on my trains however, so here's another round of the fic I've been reading this fortnight whilst not actively flailing over the glorious new episodes. As always you can find previous rec lists here. Some light spoilers for new episodes.

6 October 2024

still the bone remembers, still it wants by @eddiebabygirldiaz in which 'Eddie goes to therapy and learns how to want. Buck helps.' Ohhh I absolutely adored following along on this ride as a wip and now it's complete in all its glory! From his childhood responsibilities looking after his sisters, through the events of season 4 and 5, Eddie struggles with identifying what he wants in life, and Frank gives him homework to make a list of simple desires for just himself. What follows is a beautiful journey of unpacking what's in his heart, with the most gorgeously in love and enamoured Buddie. The imagery in this fic melted me, from the orange tree to dancing and more. Indulgent in the best possible way. I'm still swooning from how much they love and laugh together!

tell you my sins (sharpen your knife) by @sonofatoasterwaffle from sweetness to....Hot Priest Smut! (And yet somehow, still sweet?!) This is gloriously fun and filthy and a little tongue in cheek crack treated seriously, in which Eddie deals with his recognition of his feelings for Buck by fucking a Priest about it....and makes Fleabag eat her heart out. It's 'for anyone who dreams about reclaiming pieces of the religion that hurt them in a fun and sexy way.' Featuring incredibly funny Bobby along the way. Poor guy.

oh what a terrible honor it's been (to learn that my blessings are things you call sins) by @capseycartwright on the other end of the Catholic Guilt explorations comes this 'Hey God, it's me, Eddie. I hope you don’t mind that I’m sitting in your house thinking gay thoughts.' In which Eddie seeks various methods of support in dealing with the fallout from season 7, from therapy to a veterans group to reexamining his childhood and his relationship with God. Really beautifully achey and cathartic and uplifting.

Take My Oxygen (This Plane is Going Down) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels ahhh I had so much fun reading this! Buck is a succubus, and the firefam a mix of fae and humans in the know about the magical world. Eddie is a new recruit, and he can't help but find Buck mesmerising as they become best friends. But Buck has been coping with his inadvertently fatal (to his partners) natural state through a series of unhealthy mechanisms and it's taking its toll. When we say Eddie would step over the body to help support Buck...this is this fic! And yet it's also so supportive and sexy and a weaves in canon in such surprisingly effective ways!

the moon don't hang quite as high by @glorious-spoon in which 'after Bobby and Chris leave, Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, tries not to punch his new boss, and worries about Eddie.' I am so incredibly obsessed with the dialogue in this fic, it captures Buck and Eddie's voices and idiosyncrasies so well and the patter of their banter and friendly bickering, particularly how weird they are about their own and each others relationships (affectionate.)

The Write Way To Love by @spotsandsocks this was such a cute AU, in which Buck is an anxious children's fantasy author and Chris (and Eddie) are some of his biggest fans. Running an art competition for children to submit their drawings to be printed in his next book, the elusive E. Buckley makes a rare public appearance and bumps into single Dad Eddie, where sparks fly. Can Buck get over the voice in his head self sabotaging his path to happiness? This fic hit very close to home and I had so much fun reading it, and loved Christopher's voice in it so much!

a sweetheart (to hold when i'm alone) by @clusterbuck at all times on my Give That Man A Cat agenda, directly following on from the zoom call in 8x01, Eddie finds a stray in his back yard, adopts her and falls in love. Things might not be healed with Chris but perhaps they can take tentative steps forward. Eddie holding on to the mask even as it fractures, and yet not giving up, finding inner strength and outlets for all the love he holds in his heart.

cool dry place by @gayeddieagenda 'After a long summer, Buck and Eddie try to figure out if this is the right time.' Another which just nailed the voices so well, I love the patience of this fic, a really lovely look at restraint and allowing grace time to heal and feel surety, without punishing characters for needing time, and with a beautiful sense of precipice for a new relationship.

And finally two tumblr fics from @hotshotsxyz, the taste of iron a powerful alternate ending following 8x01 (what if Buck hadn't tackled Gerrard) with a brilliantly effective mirroring of the shooting arc, and a hilarious Brad Torrence POV fic from 8x02 this method acting (might pay our bills) in which we hear his inner monologue whilst riding in the back of the stolen fire engine with Bobby and Buck. Perfection!

That's it for this week, bee seeing you soon after Athena and Jem land this plane!

[httpsryu]

muse? pt.2

pairing: kang haerin x fem newjeans!reader

summary: getting a new member way long after debut and before a comeback isn't really the best idea to haerin

category: enemies-to-lovers(ish?), kpop idol au

genre: slow burn (kinda), angst, and fluff

warnings: a bit frustrating and A LOT of jealousy

a/n: thank you all for the love of pt.1 of muse!

"Up at the end is your room." Minji looks back at you, checking if you're still catching up.

You let out a nod, trying once again to grab a duffle bag from the taller's hand but yet again; she pulls it back from your reach.

"I got it, Y/N." She smiles back at you, knocking on the door at the end.

Not long after a few seconds, the door opens shortly which revealed a specific cat-eyed female. She only stares at the eldest member before trailing her eyes down to her hands full of the new addition's luggage.

"Haerin-ah, your roommate is here." Minji says, having Haerin step aside to let the both of you in.

Following closely behind Minji, you try your best to ignore a certain girl's gaze.

"You'll get along great with Haerin." The taller gently reassures you before turning to look at the other girl in this room. "Haerin, please help Y/N fit in with the room."

Haerin only swiftly nods, walking back to sit on her bed.

"Once you're done with unpacking, meet us down at the practice room." Minji smiles once more, giving you a small touch on the shoulder before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

"Your side of the closet is empty." Haerin unemotionally says, pointing at the big wardrobe in the middle. "And I'm sure you understand where your bed is."

You quickly nod, smiling with the oh so charming eyes. "Thank you so much!"

"Yeah."

Haerin seems...a little bland, to be honest?

"Practice starts in 30 minutes." The other gives you a heads up. "I'd start unpacking if I were you."

Oh!

"Right! If you don't mind, would you help me unpa-"

You couldn't even finish your sentence as the cat-eyed girl walks out the room.

Geez. What the hell is up her ass?

With a silent sigh, you can only sit on the unfamiliar ground before unpacking all your clothes and belongings alone.

The feline-resemblance female tries to cool her anger down, constantly taking small sips of water in the kitchen. She doesn't want to be in the same room with a stranger. Better yet; the new "add-on" to NewJeans.

What in the world was Min Hee Jin thinking when she chose to add you in the final solution? Haerin is positive she could never fathom the idea of it.

How good could you even be for their CEO to request you personally? Why couldn't you just stay at SM instead of ruining her and the others' careers?

With a frustrated and clearly upset expression, Haerin dumps out the remaining water from the glass before leaving it in the sink.

"All I have to do is grab my phone and cap while pretending she's not there." The cat-eyed mumbles to herself, reaching her hand out to turn the doorknob of her room.

However, she halts upon hearing laughter coming from her room.

"Y/N, if you ever need anyone to talk to or help, feel free to come to me!" Hanni's voice from inside leaves Haerin's eyebrows to furrow.

With a confused expression now, Haerin pushes the door open, grabbing both you and Hanni's attention.

"What's going on here?"

The Vietnamese female smiles, her arms wrapping around your waist to pull you in closer by her side. "I was just helping our new member unpack before practice starts."

"She's my roommate, why are you helping her?" The raven-haired honestly has no clue what irked her to say that, especially in front of you where she deliberately walked out upon you asking for help.

Hanni makes a side-eyeing face at the way her member is acting strange. "Chill! She was struggling on making her clothes fit in the space."

"Well, I can take it from here." Haerin shortly responds, her eyes gazing intently at the other's arm around you. "You can go ahead and start heading to practice, the van is already out waiting for us."

Hanni can only pout, releasing her grip on you. "Kang Haerin, you really are in a bad mood today, huh."

Before the feline-like female could open her mouth to defend herself, the Vietnamese stomps out her old room, not forgetting to bid a goodbye to you and NOT Haerin.

"She was already helping me." You simply state, turning back around to continue unpacking the rest of your clothes.

"Well, sounds more like you two were goofing around instead of doing what needs to be done." Haerin responds, a bit aggravated at the fact that you seem to like being with Hanni more than her.

You couldn't help but make a face at the tone of her. "There is something called multitasking, you know."

"There is a time in which we need to get to practice, Y/N." She replies, kneeling besides you to help with unpacking.

The silence between you two was unbearable and you can't help but to hate being near your roommate based off of the first impressions.

Being at another company's practice room was never a thought for you. You had always figured you'd be at SM forever. Who would've thought you'd be standing here at HYBE's infamous black practice room with the members of NewJeans.

"It's so big here, I feel like I could get lost if I was here by myself." You say, looking around the halls while following behind your new members.

Danielle turns around, beaming happily. "We could never leave you by yourself here!"

"Thanks Danielle." You smile back, leaving the Australian to gasp quietly at your cute eye-smile before turning back forward.

Haerin rolls her eyes from behind, trudging slowly after you. She wishes you WOULD get lost in here and never come back.

"I bet it's way different here compared to SM, huh?" Minji asks from the front.

You let out a hum in response. "Very. But I like it here already compared to being at SM."

"I'm glad!" Hanni excitedly says, linking her arms with you. "We can't wait for you to perform with us. You deserve it, Y/N."

Haerin wonders how long you've been at SM to suddenly drop the company and come over to HYBE, most importantly debuting into a group that has already debuted. Aren't you afraid of what netizens would say?

The female wonders how someone could be so selfish to their own-being. She could never leave everything like that and attempt to something even bigger.

"Surely, if Min Hee Jin CEO personally requested her, she for sure deserves to be on stage with us." Hyein nods, looking at you with a certain admiration. "I give props to you, unnie!"

Haerin gazes at you intently, wondering what's going on in your head right now. She's sure you could feel her looking upon you, she sees the way you sort of side-eyed her before replying to the youngest.

"Thank you, Hyeinnie." You could only laugh in response, however, there's pressure rising upon your body at the younger's words. "But don't expect much from me."

Wrong move.

Haerin can't help but to let out a quiet scoff, however, it doesn't get past her members nor you.

"Haerin-ah?" Minji calls out, turning around to face the feline-like female with a stern face.

Haerin hums in response.

"Is everything alright?"

Getting a nod in response from the introvert, Minji could only sigh, letting it go. But she knows something is wrong with Haerin. Can't quite put her finger on it but she KNOWS.

"Lets go guys! Practice is waiting for us!" Hanni breaks the slightly risen tension, pushing Danielle and Hyein into the practice room.

Minji waits for you up ahead, a small smile on her lips. You tilt your head at the leader, wondering what she wants to speak to you about.

"Minji, is there anything you want to say to me?"

The oldest looks at you with a gentle look. "I know it's terrifying to be placed suddenly into a new place, a new team, and a new environment. I understand very well. I hope you don't overwork yourself and just enjoy it. And if you ever need someone to listen or talk to, I'm here as a leader, your member, a friend and family."

Minji's face falls into shock as tears slowly fall from your eyes. "Oh! I-"

"-Thank you for those words." You bow towards her, the feeling of pressure levitating off of your shoulders and you can't help but to feel grateful and lucky for getting this opportunity. "I promise I won't let this team down."

Haerin once again give you one last look before clenching her jaw and proceeding to walk past both Minji and you.

"Let's get to practicing, shall we?" The older smiles, disappearing off into the very dimly lit room.

Because it's your first day as an artist under HYBE and as a member of NewJeans, you knew you had to work extra hard. Extremely hard.

Being back at SM, you didn't know when you would or wouldn't debut. Ever since the age of 6, hope continuously kept getting broken which led to motivation getting broken as well. You still worked hard but not as hard as you have to work now.

But just now, when you made a mistake during ETA, you suddenly feel your whole world crumbling down. The pressure you had back at SM taking over your entire body and you just want to huddle your knees to your chest and sob with no care in the world.

Haerin couldn't help but roll her eyes as she walks away to drink from her water bottle. There is no way the trainee that Min Hee Jin specifically requested just messed up on the most easiest move throughout the whole choreography more than 5 times already.

This is honestly just a waste of time in Haerin's head.

"I'm sorry." You immediately turn around to face the others and the dance instructor. "I don't know what happened..."

Both Danielle and Hanni are in awe at how your eyes look so sad yet beautiful at the same time.

"Y/N, it's okay!" Hanni reassures you, coming up to hug you in comfort.

However, Minji doesn't fail to notice how a specific feline-like female could only huff in frustration. The leader gets it; she does. She understands how Haerin, being one of the best dancers in the group could get irritated at something small like this. But, Minji feels that Haerin should give you a chance, after all; it is your first day.

"How about we take the rest of the day off, girls?" The dance instructor suggests, giving you a warm smile. "Let Y/N get used to this environment."

Everyone nods immediately, agreeing with the older woman.

"Great. I'll see you all tomorrow then."

Minji, being the oldest and brightest in the team, she has the perfect plan rolled up her little sleeves.

"Let's throw a small welcome party for Y/N."

Hanni notices a specific look in Minji's eyes; a little trick is getting played.

"Hanni and I will get the food while Hyein and Jihye will get the party supplies. Haerin, I want you to keep Y/N accompanied."

This has got to be some sick joke at this point.

"You've got to be kidding me." Haerin whispers to herself.

Minji smiles, leaving the cat eyed female twitching in frustration. "Haerin-ah, you're older than Y/N by three days. You two will get along just fine."

To say getting along was an understatement.

"Hey, can you accompany me to the cafeteria?" You ask, finally standing up after arranging your half of the dorm. "I can't eat alone."

Haerin looks up from her phone, for a minute; you would think she's contemplating about accompanying you. However, she just looks at you with an unreadable expression and goes back to what she's doing.

"The others will come back with food."

Great.

"Minji said that you'll accompany me though..." you can only mumble to yourself, having the other let out a short deny and sigh before leaving the room.

Haerin does not understand why she cannot absolutely stand you AT ALL.

Leaving the dorm, the feline-like female uses the elevator to the nearby convenience store. She's only going for vitamins and a refreshing drink. Surely, it would not take long. Leaving you by yourself will be just fine.

With a hum of content to herself, she nods while leaving the elevator to go into the store.

Within the second of entering the convenience store, she gets stopped by a few snacks up at front. Her mind suddenly thinks about you. Without hesitation, she picks out a couple of bags to put into her basket.

Meanwhile, your mouth hangs low while staring at the closed door in shock.

"Did she just leave?" You ask to yourself in surprise.

Never in your years of being at SM were you treated like this. And you were a trainee.

With shoulders hanging low in regret and now inconsideration on taking up this offer of debuting, you can only walk out your dorm room to go to the kitchen to find anything to eat.

Examining the many counters of the pretty big kitchen, you hear the beeps from the door's keypad being dialed in. Shortly after, the door opens which reveals the member that left the dorm earlier.

"Eat it or not; doesn't matter to me." Haerin could only say, placing the bag on the kitchen's island countertop.

Before Haerin could get the chance to leave, you cross your arm in frustration “Why are you like this?”

The cat-eyed female looks shocked for a second. She stares at you in complete silence before opening her mouth to say something.

"Look, I dont know how things worked around at your previous company but here we dont mess around during practice, it would be great if you stopped being a nuisance to others.” 

“I havent even started my official day as a NewJeans member. How could you judge me already?” 

“if you dont want me to have a bias, at least stop messing up on the choreography every step."

This has got to be the exciting yet worse day for you.

october 1, 2023; publishing date

haerin doesn't know what to do about her hidden immediate love for y/n hehehehe

part 3 is coming soon!!

taglist: @ilovekimminji

[satanghulu]

21 QUESTIONS

✦ PAIRING: satan x g!n reader ✦ SUMMARY: coffee shop au kinda, idk how to summarise this either lmao but its just fluff don't worry ✦ WC: 1.1K

| MASTERLIST

══════════════════

“So where are you from?”

What was supposed to be an innocuous question sent the blond-haired man into a spiral.

“Devildom.”

“What kind of people do you like?”

The washcloth you were using to wipe the coffee mug stopped in its motion as you paused, wondering if it was worth looking up. The man waits for you to answer, casting a shadow in your line of sight. 

Never mind his weird follow-up, what was up with his answer?

“Devildom?”

You pointedly ignored his question, resuming your actions. There were only a couple of things left to do, which was why Satan was following you like a puppy. You meet his gaze as he stares at you with pursed lips.

Thankfully, the morning rush had already subsided leaving only the mess of the counter behind. Thus, leading to this… conversation, you weren’t quite sure how you ended up. You were almost certain that the topic before was your evening plans after the work shift. 

“Er, I mean I was adopted. Never mind me, what are your interests?”

Your hands float in the air, startled by his declaration. With a flex of your finger, you set the clean mug at its allocated place below the counter. You pressed your lips in a tight line.

“Oh, I’m sorry for asking.” 

Your tone was polite in fear of another misstep. You lick the edge of your lips, sniffing at a thought. Satan’s eyes were still on you, piercing and bright. 

Though, how did “getting adopted” end up as “Devildom”? 

Although you had worked a couple of times with Satan, you hadn’t had much of a chance to inquire about his background. Today was a rare occasion to have a conversation that went further than pleasantries considering the usual rush during your scheduled shift.

Going forward, you decided not to ask any more questions regarding families.

“So your interests?” Satan prompted again.

“What is this? 21 questions or something?” You asked wryly, wringing the washcloth dry and turning to hang it on the sink. “I guess the standard things.” 

You weren’t quite sure what to make of his behaviour but it seemed harmless enough. It was also cute to see the frown forming on his face as you continued to avoid his questions.

“Do you want to be more specific?”

His voice rang out from the front as you headed towards the back to unpack the stock that had arrived earlier during the day. Humming an unconscious tune, you squatted down intending to lift the box.

Before you could complete the action, the blond-haired man had already picked up the box and was now awaiting your instructions. You hadn’t even heard him come up behind you. Slightly taken aback, you pointed in the direction of the cabinet situated on the left of the store.

“I guess coffee?”

You watched with a faint sense of amusement as Satan crinkled his eyebrows, decidedly not satisfied with your answer.

“I would guess so since we are working at a coffee shop.”

You nod.

“Okay, then. Well, what about you?” You spun around, looking for the caramel syrup to refill before the second batch of customers came in.

“Well, I like cats.” The blond-haired man tapped you on the shoulder, handing over the bottle to you. You looked up in mild surprise before muttering a thanks. 

“I think everyone working here knows that.”

You had started bringing a lint roller to work because of how often he came covered in fur. As a barista, it was a cleanliness concern. Nowadays, you just leave the lint roller at work so Satan can use it when both of you aren’t scheduled together.

“Yeah, I thought we were stating the obvious.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine, my bad. I’ll be more serious with my answer now.”

You dried off your hand with the towel placed near the sink before tugging your apron down as it had crumpled up during your entire stint.

“What kind of mannerisms do you find attractive?”

You let out a snort.

“Geez, you are persistent.”

You squinted at him and paused for a second.

 “Is there a particular answer you want to hear?”

He shrugged, miming a zipping motion and pretending to throw away the key. Satan was great at pushing and pulling with his words, as you have noticed. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, I guess it varies.” You said. A strand of hair had started itching at your nose and your facial expression twisted into a frown. Finally, after refilling the syrup, you set it back on the counter.

“This is getting nowhere.” Satan abruptly says, blocking your path to the counter. He snorts, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Are you free this evening?”

“You weren’t joking.” You huffed out, admittedly not too surprised.

The determined expression on his face was too cute. It makes you want to tease him even more. It didn’t take a genius to find out that Satan had been flirting with you but honestly, you had thought it was just a playful tidbit between coworkers.

“Sure, why not?” You didn’t have to debate too long on an answer. 

Handsome, gentle, and funny. What more could you ask for?

“Great.” You smile at him, standing a step closer.

He wasn’t moving, standing scarily still for some reason. His clear gaze made you feel nervous, but you persisted, tilting your head and waiting for him to continue.

“Would an hour be enough for you to freshen up? We can meet at 7 in front of the subway.”

“Deal.” You nodded. 

Ding!

The sound snapped you out of your reverie, noticing that a customer had come in. For a second, you had completely forgotten about your job. You brushed past Satan, intending to head to the front to serve the customer.

…?

“I’m looking forward to spending the evening with you.”

The blond-haired man had grabbed your hand. He bent down, lifting your hand to press a featherlight kiss to the back of your hand. It was a two-hit combo that went straight to your heart. 

 “I’ll take care of this customer.” 

As the ending move, he leaned forward to brush the stray hair that had been bothering you all this while. You could feel your heart splutter at the motion and instantly felt a blush rising up. 

T-this madman!

You caught sight of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips before he left and you immediately wanted to cuss him out. However, the heat staying high on your face prevented you from doing so.

Huh.

You brought up your hand for an inspection even though there was no evidence left behind. Curiously, you looked at the spot that he had kissed. 

Satan was much more charming than you had anticipated. You noted dimly.

This could be bad for your heart.

══════════════════

a/n ▸ this fic is brought to you by kelo (@sheepthatgobaa) and I, you can read this post for more information lol but basically it was a "what if?" situation -> what if lucifer sent satan into the human world as punishment and then he started working at a coffee shop and then the dynamics between reader and him and it just spiralled lol. i currently don't have plans for a full fic for this btw... this just gripped me by the throat

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: I've been late posting this entire series 😭. i explained a bit when anon asked, but i LOST my compression gloves and got a new pair relatively quick on top of my $200 medication 💔 my wallet is in shambles guys

ANYWAYS thank you all for sticking around and bearing with me!! i kiss and hug everyone!! even though i haven't responded to comments lately, i read every single one and it always makes me giggle ♥️♥️

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 5

The drive back to your university with your mom was excruciating. You hadn’t told anyone what’d happened which meant you had to keep a happy demeanor around them throughout the holidays up until now. Dread had settled in your stomach once the drive began and continued to spread the closer you got, similar to when you’re headed to the doctors or the dentist, just a million times worse.

Texting Ella and Sky had helped a surprising amount, turning the majority of your anxiety into rage. Ella was furious when she found out, so her fury, and Sky’s, quickly became yours.

They hyped you up, ready to be at your side and assist in tearing “that shitty fratfuck” to shreds. The support meant so much after everything, especially after the reality of it all set in; you’d seen the picture via snapchat from someone you didn’t know, so how many others had seen it?

Your worst fear was being seen as easy, being used like you were. But you weren’t, were you? Your friends had made sure to try and convince you otherwise, you had to give them that, yet even with the facts laid out in front of you, it was still hard to divert your thoughts away from that ever-looming self-doubt.

Seeing the campus come into view only served to solidify those thoughts and feelings. No matter what Sky and Ella had tried or are willing to do for you, it just wasn’t enough to fix what’s been done.

Your mom helped you bring your suitcase up to your dorm, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the temple before saying goodbye and heading on her way. Playing okay around your family all winter break was exhausting, so you just chose to sit in silence on your bed instead of unpacking your stuff. Always prepared, you wanted to get here a few days early, using unpacking and settling back in as an excuse, when really you just needed time to collect yourself before the inevitable happened.

He was here, and you were sure he’d seek you out eventually once he spotted you, or maybe when one his friends did and the word made its way back to him. Whichever way it happened, you knew it’d be unfavorable. 

“Hey,” Ella’s voice from the doorway caught your attention, “you look miserable..” How hadn’t you heard the door open? 

“I am miserable, but uh.. let’s just pretend I’m not, okay?” You replied, barely cracking a smile as you glanced up at her. 

She gave you a weak laugh in return, letting the door close as she slowly sauntered over to you, plopping down right next to you on the edge of the bed. “Fine, yeah. You haven’t shown me your schedule yet, by the way.”

“Oh, right-” you paused to reach over and grab your bag, rifling through the various papers in there until finally pulling out the schedule you printed out a couple weeks back. “It’s mostly the classes that aren’t fun.” You stopped to look at your schedule for a brief moment before passing the paper over to Ella, who quickly snatched it from your hand.

She squinted dramatically, holding the paper only a couple inches away from her face. “Yeaaah, these aren’t the best. At least it looks like you’ll have the majority of your pre-reqs out of the way for next year though.” Her observation made you chuckle with a nod.

“Which is what I’m trying to do. Work myself to the bone now, chill out later.” 

“Don’t kill yourself trying to do everything in one fell swoop.”

“I promise I won’t Ella, this is just how I-” A knock on the door drew both yours and Ella’s attention away from each other, an immediate scowl settling on her face. You wanted to ask, but it seems she already knew what you were going to say, quickly shushing you in a hushed voice, “Sky won’t be here until tomorrow night. Don’t answer that.”

You paused, thought for a moment, then nodded once with pursed lips. Ella was a pretty serious person, the mom of the group you could say, so when she pulled that tone, you knew better than to test it. Besides, you didn’t want to see who or what was on the other side of the door, you needed more time.

The next day was a little better, if uneventful. You finally brought yourself to unpack your suitcase, a chance to reorganize everything since you’d gotten a few new things over the holidays. Ella stuck close, bringing food up and into your dorm to take advantage of the empty mini fridge while the two of you binge watched a few random movies.

You stayed cozied up in your bed, having already mapped out and memorized your walking path for each class; longer, less foot traffic to and from. All you had to do was get through the rest of this year, that’s all. Little extra walking never hurt anyone, right?

When classes actually started, the long and complicated walks actually worked for a time; no one gave you strange looks, no one tried to talk to you, and it was pretty quiet. Scenic. But everyone knows everything good must come to an end eventually, and of course it had to be when you were just starting to forget all of this mess.

He caught you between classes. Scenic walks backfired massively when you realized there wasn’t anyone else around on that part of campus. Guess you didn’t think this one all the way through.

You couldn’t help but notice he looked pretty roughed up, sporting a few bruises along his cheekbone, a split lip, and a healing black eye. Seems he’s been busy over winter break.

“Listen, please listen-” Leon pleaded, holding his hands out in a weak attempt to trap you in the hallway. All this did was make you even more uncomfortable. “I know what I did was wrong, but I was not the one who sent that picture around, I swear.” You just stood in place after a few tries to get around him, giving him an almost bored stare. He didn’t really expect to finally catch you, so he stumbled over his words as he continued to ramble.

“I-.. I’m so, so sorry for doing that to you,” he slowly lowered his hands back down to his sides once he was sure you’d stay to listen, “I know that what I did was terrible, and I mean it when I say that I am sorry. I wish there was a way to turn back time and undo it, but I can't. I can't even explain why I did it in the first place, but that's not an excuse. I just- I messed up big time and I was- am stupid for letting it happen.”

To you this seemed sincere, but you really couldn’t be sure and it was safe to assume it wasn’t. Leon managed to trick you for months, who’s to say this wasn’t a trick as well? 

Your look turned skeptical, crossing your arms tightly against your chest with a shaky breath. Despite handling this better than you thought you would, it was still nerve wracking having this kind of talk.

“I'm not good at this, but I'm more than willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, if that's even possible..” Leon breathed out, panting as he tried to catch his breath after talking so fast. “I managed to uh-.. to find everyone who had the picture and I made them delete it.”

“I made them delete the picture.” He repeated, taking another moment to breathe before suddenly looking down to yank something out of his pocket. “I-I got your uh-.. these-” 

Seeing him hold up your panties so casually made you gasp, immediately looking around the hallway to make sure it was still empty before shooting him a glare, whispering a harsh “Put them back! Put them back!” which made him scramble to hide them in his pocket again. 

“Right- right, sorry! Sorry…” Leon was sweating at this point, growing increasingly anxious under your gaze. He didn’t want to mess this up any further, but man he was doing a pretty shitty job at that right now.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as well, both of you blushing with embarrassment, and also shame on Leon’s part. Once he managed to slow his breathing, he started to talk again, a noticeable frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “You don’t.. have to forgive me or anything, I just wanted to make sure you knew that hardly anyone knows and-” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly, turning his head to the side to look at the wall, “.. and that I’m sorry. I really do like you, I guess I just took a little too long to realize it…”

You made another quick glance over your shoulder before looking back at the man trembling in front of you who was still avoiding your gaze. You wanted to hate him so bad, so bad, but it was hard when all you could see was the Leon who was so sweet, the Leon who let you cry to him when the weight of the world was on your shoulders and made you feel so wanted and loved.

“Can we-” you cleared your throat and pulled the strap of your backpack further up onto your shoulder, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Can we talk later, maybe? Like, in my dorm? I don’t want anyone overhearing any of this..”

Leon perked up when he heard you talk, pulling his hands from his pockets to nervously rake his fingers through his hair, which was now partially damp from the sweat beading off his forehead. “Oh- OH! Yeah, of- of course, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t- I just needed to-”

You waved your hands in front of your chest, shutting him up so he didn’t spill any further. "And throw those away." He nodded silently, wiping a hand down his face until it settled right in front of his lips, probably knowing he was talking too much at this point. 

There was one more class you needed to go to that day, so you hurried off after telling him to wait outside your dorm until you were done, and he promised he would. Very adamantly, too. At least he held true to his words, standing in the hallway right in front of your dorm room like a lost puppy when you turned the corner. It was cute for a second, though annoyance quickly replaced that feeling as you walked over and let him in.

You weren’t exactly ready to have a full blown talk, but then again, no one ever was. What made it easier was your roommate never returned that semester, assuming she dropped out, so you basically had the whole dorm to yourself for the rest of the year. Or until someone had a roommate issue and needed a change. Didn’t really matter to you at that point.

There was really only one thing on your mind and that was getting Leon to explain this whole ordeal to you. You needed detail, clarification, anything to help you understand what’d been going on behind your back during that time. And he did, telling you just about everything he could; who suggested the bet, who roped him into the idea, the second guessings he had since the start, how he could’ve done literally anything else to avoid the way it all played out, everything.

Obviously you couldn’t just forgive him like that, even though he kept telling you how sorry he was and how terrible he felt about it. You wanted to forgive him, but you weren’t ready, and he understood that. He would’ve been satisfied with any response you gave him, so having been given the chance to really explain and have you listen was more than enough in his eyes.

“And just so you know, my friends aren’t going to let you off the hook,” you pulled your legs up so you were sitting criss-cross on the bed, looking across at Leon who was sitting on the bed opposite of yours.

“Yeah, I know..” he chuckled awkwardly, reaching a hand back to rub at the nape of his neck. “I was honestly expecting them to jump me, but they just give me evil looks whenever they see me.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, making a mental note to question Sky and Ella about that later. “You’ll never get nice looks from them again and I won’t be vouching for you.”

Leon nodded, silence blanketing the room as you’d finally run out of things to discuss. Though it was awkward, it was nice to have him hanging around again. “Anyways,” you started, standing up from your bed slowly as you vaguely gestured towards the door, “I need to study, sooo…”

“Oh, yeah, totally, uhm..” he followed suit, standing up from the other bed before sauntering over to the door as you held it open for him. He walked out and turned around almost instantly, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face once his eyes met yours, his arms jerking upwards slightly as if to suggest a hug.

“Don’t push it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik @animesnowstorm @lexi-zsy09 @mylifedoesntexist @ifeellikedying @yourmommylol04 @ravioli19 @dakiniii @papichulo120627

(few of your blogs won't pop up, i tried though 😩)

[giamee]

𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🥭 )

a continuation of examining the intricacies of high school not-quite romances

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | high school au, short corny fluffy hcs of them as your crush yay !!

requested by @kaixblossom

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ confession time!! i know fuck all about argenti but he's a pretty pretty man so i will write about him in this. same for luka. sorry if i get their characterisations wrong i'm going off of vibes alone. will i be adding them to my masterlist though? probably not. ps new layout yayyy :3

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ARGENTI.

-he's considered a role model within the school as not only head boy, but one of the best students in the year with the highest grades

-and of course, on top of all that, he just has to be unbelievably pretty, too

-a very good candidate to be your hallway crush

-you get a little giddy every time you walk past him, especially whenever he greets you in passing

-much to your delight, it had been happening a lot more often recently

-you had whipped out your phone to text your friend about this little crush of yours, not looking where you were going as you blindly navigated the school's hallways

-and, just your luck, you bump straight into something before you can even send a single tect

-your phone clatters to the floor- you have a screen protector, thank god, and you duck down to grab it, offering an apology to whoever it was profusely.

what you didn't expect, however, was for the other person to also bend down, your hand brushing theirs as you both reach for your fallen belongings

-"oh! sorry-"

-you finally look up, stunned to see the very subject of your desires before you

-argenti merely smiles, offering you your phone which you take from his grasp bashfully

-he then offers you his hand, and if you weren't blushing before then you were now as he helps you stand back up

"thank you..."

-"don't mention it." he smiles down at you kindly, and you suddenly feel very self-conscious

-"though, you should probably be more careful when texting and walking at the same time. even though it is cute."

-he leaves you to short circuit with a simple wave, continuing on his way as you look down at your phone with shaking hands as you finally manage to send a new text to your friend

you: HE CALLED ME CUTE !!!!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 WELT.

-he's a somewhat elusive crush of yours

-you know that he does art, and as a result spends most of his spare time and lunches in an art room

-the very same one that you had as a homeroom in mornings before class

-there's no real rule about who can and can't use the rooms at lunch, but it still feels taboo to come in there, especially since you aren't an art student

-you had an essay due next period, and your school's library wasn't exactly known for its quiet atmosphere, so you had to seek out another place to get your head down and finish your assignment

-upon seeing welt, you realise that may be easier said than done

-he isn't being loud, no, but he's distracting in other ways

-he himself is concentrating on his own work, some sculpture that he's shaping out of clay

-the crease in his brows is cute, you think to yourself

-you also feel like a perv for staring at his hands and forearms for so long as they shape the clay, but you weren't going to tell anybody that

-you finally pick your seat at the same table he's on, taking way longer than necessary to unpack all of your stuff, any excuse to keep looking at him

-and even as you got to writing, you couldn't help your wandering eyes from drifting away from your notebook at to him in all of his glory

-it was mortifying to see that he was already looking at you, an amused smile on his face as you flushed from getting caught

-he merely chuckled to himself, his deep voice sending butterflies to your stomach as he returned to his sculpture

-you'd have to ask for an extension next period

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 LUKA.

-this crush creeps up on you out of nowhere

-your school had a lot of volunteering programs with the local neighbourhood, and you thought that you might as well sign up to one

-it would look good on your college applications, after all

-you weren't too sure what to sign up for, ultimately choosing a daycare for children

-there weren't any other names on the signup sheet, so you assumed that you would be the only one from your school helping out

-but on the first day, you see a guy roughly your age also waiting outside the building, and you decide to be friendly

-"are you here to volunteer as well?"

-the guy turns to you, and you realise that he has a really nice smile

-"yeah, i am! my name's luka, by the way"

-he's got a really nice voice, too

-and the rest is, well, history

-he's upbeat, and fun, and while the volunteering was never awful to begin with, luka's presence just made it that much better

-so really, you should have expected your friendship with him to ever so gradually begin to evolve into something deeper

-you couldn't pinpoint exactly when it became a crush, but you suspect that it had something to do with his insistence on walking you home to make sure you got there safely

-and how in the colder winter nights when the sun is already down before you two even begin to walk back, and you're trying to freeze in silence, luka decides to bring your attempt at being a martyr to an abrupt end by lacing his fingers with yours

-his hands are warm, and it's a welcome addition to your life, much like the rest of him

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

[daisynik7]

Could you possibly do: Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado for Jean Kirstein - Smut (stg he needs more love on this app)

Promiscuous

Pairing: Jean x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.7k

cw: frenemies-to-lovers trope, one bed (in this case, tent) trope, modern day au, explicit language, smut – mutual masturbation, fingering, hand job

Summary: During your annual camping trip with your friends, you find out a little too late that the tent you brought with you is broken. With everyone’s already occupied, you’re forced to share one with Jean, who you don’t exactly get along with. Maybe sharing a small space together for one night will change that. 

Author’s Note: Hi anon! Thank you for your request for the y2k karaoke party! This idea is somewhat inspired by my main man AugustInTheWinter’s “Trapped in Your Asshole Friend’s Tent” (reddit link, +18)  except mine is more of a teaser if anything, since there’s no actual sex, hehe. I hope you like this one! I don’t write for Jean often, but when I do, I always have so much fun! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/mikeykuns.

Your tent is busted, and of course you only find out about it as you unpack it on the campsite, finding it torn up and unusable. You turn to Sasha, panicking. “It’s broken!”

She kneels down to inspect it, looking at all the parts. “There’s nothing you can do to fix it?”

“Everything is in pieces. It’s completely useless. Do you have room in your tent?”

She shakes her head. “I’m sleeping in Connie’s. And Mikasa, Armin, and Eren are squeezing into one. Which leaves only Jean – ”

“No,” you say with emphasis. “No way.”

Sasha rolls her eyes. “Come on. You’re only in there for a few hours each night, that’s it! Set your differences aside for once! Unless you want to sleep out in the cold.”

“I think I’d rather freeze to death and get eaten by a bear than share a tent with him,” you state, crossing your arms over your chest. 

She chuckles, taking a bite out of a baked potato she has stored in her pocket. “Fine. I’ll be sure to write that in your obituary.” She walks away from you, joining Connie by their tent, helping him set it up while you stand there, defiant, and all-too-stubborn. You look over to their right to see the EMA trio working together to assemble their big tent, but still not big enough to house a fourth person. Then, on the other side, furthest away from the others, is Jean. 

You seriously weigh your options, eventually deciding that death by the elements is worse by the tiniest margin than sleeping next to Jean. So you walk up to him, tapping on the thin fabric, pretending to knock. “Kirstein,” you call out when there’s no answer.

He unzips the entrance, glaring at you. “What do you want?”

You clear your throat, putting on the nicest voice you can possibly muster. “Do you have room for me in there?” You even bat your eyelashes, feeling more pathetic that you already do.

“What?!” he snaps, standing up to confront you. 

“My tent is broken and there’s no room in the other’s, so…”

“Fuck no,” he states, a little harsher than usual. 

“C’mon, Kirstein! It’s just for two nights!”

“Then sleep outside.”

“I promise I’ll be good!” you whine, putting your hands together in prayer, pleading. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely know you’re here,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, irritated. He yells out across the way. “Sash, Connie! There’s really no room in there for her?”

Connie answers, “Nope!”

“Mikasa, how about in your – ”

“No,” she responds immediately, the other two boys shaking their heads to confirm.

Jean groans, scratching his head anxiously, as if this is the worst thing he’s ever had to consider. Eventually, he mutters a contemptuous, “Fine. But we’re not sharing sleeping bags.”

“I never said anything about sleeping bags!” you protest. 

“I’m just saying!”

Not wanting to argue more, you ease up. “Okay, okay. Thank you. Seriously, Kirstein. I really do appreciate it.” You attempt to give him the most genuine smile you can manage. All he does is roll his eyes, zipping the entrance closed.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. After setting up camp, you all go for an easy hike on a nearby trail. Jean doesn’t interact with you, which is typical behavior from him. You can’t pinpoint the exact reason why he dislikes you so much; it didn’t start this way when you first met him several years ago through Sasha. But the more you hung out with them, the colder he’s gotten towards you. Because of this, you decided to act the same towards him, causing this hostile relationship between you two. Maybe sharing a tent tonight is a good opportunity to let bygones be bygones and finally get along.

Back at camp, you gather around the fire to roast hot dogs for dinner. Jean sits across from you, a serious expression on his face as he focuses on cooking his meal. You study him, watching the flames reflect in his eyes. He’s handsome, that’s for sure; sharp jawline, luscious brown locks on his head, an impressive stature. If he wasn’t such an asshole, you could see yourself being friendly with him, maybe even more. The thought makes you smile to yourself. He meets your gaze for a brief moment, startling you. You quickly turn your head to the side, pretending to be interested in the dirt on the ground, hoping he didn’t catch you staring. 

By midnight, with your bellies nourished with a hot dogs, potato chips, and s’mores for dessert, you all decide to call it a night. Armin and Eren put out the fire while the rest of you do a thorough job disposing any trash and putting away any of the remaining food. Everyone gets ready for bed in their designated spots around the wilderness. You especially take your time, wanting to stall as much as possible so you don’t have to interact with your tent-mate. 

Eventually, you’re the only one left outside and there’s nothing left for you to do but head in. As you walk into the tent, you quietly step inside, noticing Jean already curled in his sleeping bag to the farthest side he can reach, leaving plenty of space for you. He’s wrapped in an additional blanket, head resting on a fluffy pillow, expression the most relaxed you’ve ever seen. You grin, appreciating how cute he looks like this. 

You nestle into your sleeping bag, adjusting your pillow before you find a comfortable position to sleep in. Even with it zipped up and surrounding you, it’s still chilly enough that your teeth chatter. Holding yourself tightly, you rub your arms, hoping to create enough friction to warm yourself up.  

From the other side, you hear Jean’s familiar groan, then shuffling. Suddenly, you feel something thick envelop you. You crane your neck to see Jean near you now, his blanket covering you both. He faces you with that scowl on his face, eyes closed. “I’m only sharing so that you don’t keep me up all night,” he says.

You roll over to turn your body towards him, closer than you’ve ever been before. “Thank you,” you murmur, snuggling into your pillow. 

He doesn’t say anything else, probably drifting off to sleep by now. Although you’re warm enough, you still can’t fall into a slumber the way you want. Not with Jean so near you, pretty eyelashes fluttering, soft lips parted slightly; he is really handsome. Your chest swells, heat rushes into your cheeks. As quietly as you can, praying that he’s actually asleep, you whisper, “I’m sorry, Jean. For whatever I did to make you hate me so much.” You say it more for yourself if anything. Even if he can’t hear you, at least you’ve put it out there for the universe. 

“I don’t hate you.” It startles you when he says it in a low, gruff voice, eyes still closed. 

You swallow hard, not sure if you should continue this conversation, or let it end here. Not wanting to waste this opportunity, you decide to respond. “You don’t?”

This time, he opens his eyes slowly, blinking at you. “No. You’re annoying, irritating, always completely unprepared. But I don’t hate you.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mutter, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. “Sorry for always being such a nuisance to you. I’ll be sure to leave you alone now.”

He sighs. “You’re not always a nuisance, okay? And besides, you’re the one who acts like you hate me.”

“I only do that because you did it to me first,” you argue. “I don’t even know what I did to annoy you in the first place. Tell me.”

“If I start now, we’ll be up all night,” he smirks, looking smug. 

“Seriously, what did I ever do to you? I need to know so I can apologize formally.” 

He stares at you, contemplating his answer. You wait with anticipation, nervous for what he’s about to say. Eventually, he admits, “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”

More confused now, you ask, “Then why do you treat me like I did?”

He sighs again, this time even deeper. “I don’t know.”

You scoot closer to him instinctually, studying his face as if that will give you a clearer answer. “You don’t know?”

He’s caught off guard by the closing distance between you. “I don’t know,” he repeats, stammering. “I just…”

Closer now, your nose mere inches from his, the heat radiating from his body towards you. “Just what?”

He gulps loudly before leaning forward, pressing his lips to yours in a delicate kiss. You don’t immediately pull back, indulging in the intimate touch until his tongue slips into your mouth. It shocks you, not because you don’t like it, but because of how much you do. You break apart, catching your breath. “What are you…” you trail off, fixated on his lips, slightly shiny now from your spit.  

He unzips his sleeping bag, freeing his hands to reach for you, caressing your cheek. “If you don’t like it, tell me now and I’ll stop.” His thumb brushes against your skin, electrifying every nerve in your body. 

You wiggle out of your confines to touch him too, placing your hands on hands on his chest, clenching his t-shirt in your fists. Something comes over you. Curiosity, lust, temptation, you’re not quite sure. All you know is that you want to keep kissing him, keep touching him, and save the explaining for later. It doesn’t have to make sense right now; all you want is to feel good. 

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, pulling him in for a kiss. It’s sloppier this time, his tongue flicking against yours, eager for a taste of you. His hand travels down your body, sliding around your waist beneath your pajama top. It ignites your skin, forgetting any ounce of coldness that occupied your body just moments before. 

“On top,” he huffs, fingers digging into your flesh. “Get on top of me.”

You obey, spreading his sleeping bag open, seeing the prominent bulge protruding from his sweats. You straddle his lap, grinding yourself on him, rubbing your clothed pussy along his shaft. He grips your waist with both his hands, watching you rock against him, biting his lip with a crazed look in his eyes. “Fuck,” he breathes out, brows furrowed in concentration, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. If you had known it would be like this, maybe the two of you wouldn’t have wasted so much time berating each other. You could have spent the last few years doing this instead.

You lean down, kissing him passionately while you continue to ride him with your clothes on. He’s unbelievably hard beneath you now, his big cock straining against the fabric. Your arousal leaks into your panties, wet and ready for him. His hands glide to your bottom, squeezing your cheeks in his hands. Soon, his fingers are hooked on your waistband, tugging them down your thighs, coaxing you to strip. You hop off him, rolling to his side to properly remove your pants, him doing the same next to you. Both of you are naked from the waist down now, lying beside each other. You reach between your legs, rubbing your fingers on your clit. He watches, fist wrapped around his cock, stroking it feverishly. “I didn’t know you were like this,” he whispers, biting his lip to hold back his moans. “Fuck, if I had known I…I would have – ”

“What, Jean? What would you have done?” you ask, playing with yourself faster, watching him jerk himself off.

“I would have fucked you so much sooner. Make you my slut.”

“You want to slut me out? Is that what you want?”

“Yeah. But only for me. I only want you to be a slut for me.”

You reach for him with your wet fingers, replacing his hand with yours, stroking him slowly. He moans, eyes blown wide at the sight. “Come here,” he beckons, stretching his hand towards your pussy. “I want to make you feel good too.”

Kneeling beside him, you guide him to you, teasing your clit with his palm. “God, you’re so fucking wet. Can I fuck you with these fingers, baby?”

The pet name is unexpected from his mouth, but it spurs you on. You nod, lifting up slightly to sink down on his middle finger while his thumb nudges your clit. A moan escapes you, unable to keep quiet. He chuckles softly, shushing you. “You don’t want the others to know you’re getting finger-fucked by me, do you? You better be quiet.” 

You stay like this, Jean’s fingers pumping in and out of your cunt while he fucks your fist. Aching for a new position, you release him, pulling him out of you so that you can straddle his lap again, this time completely nude. 

He stammers, clearly nervous. “Oh fuck, should we…?”

There is no lube, nor are there any condoms around you. It would be a bad idea to have sex under these conditions, though temptation is testing you, especially with how far you’ve already gotten. As badly as you want to be fucked, you decide not to. “Not tonight. But that doesn’t mean we can’t feel good, right?” You flick the tip of his cock on your clit, your core tight with pleasure from the intimate contact. 

He relaxes into his sleeping bag, watching you with a dazed expression on his face, moaning as you grind your pussy along his shaft, hand nestled underneath his cock, stroking him simultaneously. “Fuck, you really know what you’re doing, huh?”

“Is that bad?” you ask, slowing your pace.

He smiles, shaking his head. “Not at all. I just didn’t expect you to be so promiscuous.” He reaches towards you, massaging your clit with his thumb. 

You whine from his touch, rocking back and forth on his shaft, almost inclined to sink down on his cock anyways. “Maybe I’m only like this with you.”

He continues to grin at you, caressing your sensitive bud faster. “Yeah, maybe you are.”

You stay like this until his cock pulsates beneath you, shooting spurts of cum onto his stomach. Soon, you’re coming too with his thumb pressed tightly on your clit, rubbing deep into you, gushing all over him. When you’re done riding out your orgasm, you roll off of him, back into your own sleeping bag. Jean stays flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling of his tent, his breathing gradually returning to a steady pace. The two of you remain silent, equally confused and thrilled about what just occurred. 

You decide to be the one to speak first. “So…”

He turns to you, a kind expression on his face. Have you ever seen this on him before? It puts a flutter in your belly. “So,” he repeats. 

“Should we talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” He scoots closer to you, holding your hand in his.

“This. Us,” you say, interlocking your fingers with his. Who would have though being this way with Jean Kirstein would feel so…natural?

“Right. Us.” He nuzzles his nose to yours. “The truth is, I’ve been a massive asshole to you because I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to express his feelings.”

“So, instead, you act like you hate me?”

He points to himself, giving you a goofy grin. “See? Idiot.”

You sigh, squeezing him tighter. “So, you actually like me?”

Smiling, he kisses your cheek. “I do. I’ve liked you for a while. If you give me a chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. If you let me.”

You don’t respond right away, contemplating the situation. Could it really work out between you two after all the petty arguments, snide remarks, contemptuous glares? It is comfortable, being with him like this. It’s better than you ever imagined. 

You snuggle into his chest, surrounding yourself in his warmth and security. “I guess we could give it a shot.”

“Yeah?” He tips your chin up to meet your gaze, smiling big.

“Yeah.”

He brings you towards him to kiss you sweetly, cradling you in his arms. “Thank you.”

You pull away, smirking at him before you whisper, “And next time, you’re going to slut me out properly, right?”

He laughs quietly, biting his lip. “Absolutely.”

[ideas-ideasideasideas]

JayTim omegaverse AU where Tim presents as an omega when he’s stalking Batman and Jason-as-Robin. Jason finds him collapsed on a rooftop and tries to help him but the proximity triggers his own presentation as an alpha. From there things go to hell in a hand basket and they ride out their first heat/rut together. In the immediate aftermath, once they have both recovered enough presence of mind, they agree that this is no one’s fault but it doesn’t stop Jason from feeling guilty about taking advantage of Tim so he escorts Tim home (in the process finding out they’re neighbours) and asks if there’s anything that he can do for him to make up for whatever the hell just happened.

There’s a lot of trauma to unpack here for the both of them but Tim is barely a teenager and Jason has emotionally repressed Batman for a parental figure so they just mutually decide not to mention it ever again because if you pretend it never happened then it can’t hurt you right? (Wrong.) Anyway, Tim tells Jason that if he really wants to do something for him then maybe he can just not tell Batman that Tim was on a rooftop at night, pretty please? At which point Jason, horrified that a boy Tim’s age is running around on rooftops unsupervised in the most crime-ridden parts of Gotham at the most crime-infested time of the day, makes it his personal duty to figure out why Tim does this and also how he can convince him to NOT do this. What he did to Tim was wrong on so many levels but oh god, what if someone so much worse found Tim instead? He agrees to Tim’s request on the condition that Tim carries a beacon at all times during his nighttime extracurricular activities.

Jason brings the beacon over as soon as possible, which turns out to be the next day after school (as Robin of course), and the sight of Tim alone in a giant house compels him to stay for a while, and a while turns into the rest of the day. Tim shows off the photos he’s taken of Batman and the Robins, and Jason is reluctantly but appropriately impressed by Tim’s stealth.

A friendship grows between them.

And then Jason dies.

And Batman grows too reckless.

And Dick refuses to be Robin again.

And Tim becomes Robin—

Except he doesn’t. Not really. He wears Jason’s Robin suit for a very short time before random bouts of nausea take him off the field. But Batman is still beating the shit out of petty criminals and Tim is desperate to help, so he allows Alfred (bless him) to call him a discreet doctor to ensure that his illness is not due to anything he was exposed to while Batman-wrangling before he’s allowed back on the field. Tim just wants it over and done with quickly so he can get back out there and—

He’s not allowed to back on the field.

He’s holding a little black-and-white picture of a literal human growing inside him and he is absolutely benched until there is no longer a literal human growing inside him.

Doctor Thompkins lays out his options, is brutally honest about how his body (too young, too small) will handle a pregnancy (not well), and asks if there is anything he wants to tell her (if there’s anyone Batman needs to put in jail for touching him). Tim doesn’t have long to consider his options—he’s nearly too far along for most clinics to be comfortable performing an abortion (although, given his age, they might be sympathetic enough to bend the rules if Doctor Thompkins can’t perform the procedure for him).

He decides to keep it, a parting gift from his friend Robin to be cherished beyond his death. There is a difficult conversation with Bruce about the child’s father (no, you can’t arrest them, they’re already dead, no, I’m not defending a heinous rapist, it’s your goddamn son, Bruce, this is your grandchild). An unforeseen but extremely welcome consequence of this is that Batman starts pulling his punches, now that he has something to live for again. He looks only half-broken now and he offers Tim a room at the Wayne manor when he finally learns about Tim’s extremely absent parents.

(Tim worries about how to break the news to his parents until he no longer has to worry about it because his mother is dead and his father is in a coma and god he wanted to avoid having that conversation with them but this wasn’t how he wanted it to happen.)

Properly benched now for the foreseeable future, Tim picks up remote vigilante-wrangling instead (from Babs?) and makes headway in some cold cases. He pulls out of school to be homeschooled instead, keeps out of the public eye, and generally avoids leaving Wayne manor because a thirteen-year-old pregnant omega living alone with an adult alpha (and his butler) is a Very Bad Look even for Brucie Wayne and Tim would rather not be known as Bruce Wayne’s child bride thank you very much.

Life proceeds in this manner, the child is delivered by Caesarian with very little fanfare. It is, unfortunately, very difficult to hide the presence of a whole infant. The public settles on the theory that the child is Bruce’s illegitimate son from one of his many dalliances and Tim allows the misconception to propagate simply because no good can come out of him, all of fourteen, publicly claiming his child. But it still stings, just a little. He made this child, held him safe in his womb for eight months. He puts him to bed and nurses him and loves him so much but nobody outside the manor will see it.

Tim bursts back into society when he’s officially adopted by Bruce. He refused to register his son as Bruce’s (it takes some extremely deft work by Oracle to file the appropriate documents for Tim’s claim on his child to be legally valid without alerting the press) but he also understands that Bruce wants a legal connection to his grandchild, so he becomes his son’s dead father’s legally adopted brother. It’s a mess, but at least people who should be are allowed into hospital rooms. It’s not like it will matter, right? Jason’s dead, right?

Wrong.

Jason is very much not dead and very much bewildered by the presence of a baby Wayne that isn’t Damian and it completely derails his plans to exact revenge on Bruce for not killing the Joker. It fucking hurts to see that he’s been replaced by not one but TWO new children but at least they aren’t Robin. At least no one is Robin. At least one of them is Tim, his lonely friend who deserves a family. He returns to Gotham, heads to Crime Alley, becomes Red Hood, and buries himself in shooting out enough kneecaps to push Bruce and Batman from his mind. That was another life. He’s fucking furious at Bruce and his replacements but god the baby has the same curly hair that Jason did and Jason can’t help but think that Bruce might actually have missed him, at least a little.

But probably not enough to love Jason as he is now, full of anger and rage and impulse to hurt hurt hurt the people who hurt others. He channels it all into cleaning up the Alley, perhaps more aggressively than Batman would (should) have, but Batman doesn’t give enough of a shit about the Alley to know that what he’s doing isn’t enough and it’s up to Jason to get his hands downright filthy if he wants to make any changes around here.

Tim notices Red Hood, because of course he does. And it takes him no time at all to realise, oh, that’s Jason. That’s Jason.

[yuzukult]

from home 03 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in future chapters word count: 8.1k prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: .......... LMFAOOOOOOOOO SORRY FOLKS I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL... anyways hopefully i copied the right chapter hahahhahahah

“You going to the staff dinner tonight?”

Raising a finger at Hoseok, Jungkook slips his phone from his pocket, skimming through the pages before landing on an app, typing a few things in before he looks up with a saddened expression on his face. “... I guess not.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Why can’t you go?” He turns his phone to show the both of you. 

JEON JUNGKOOKACCOUNT BALANCE: ₩33,258.75

“Jungkook!” You and Hoseok in unison exclaim in disbelief. “How the fuck do you only have $30 in there?” Jungkook shrugs, slumping his shoulders as he leans against the conveyor belt. “My mom hasn’t given me the modeling money yet. Our accountant is still calculating all of my earnings. You’d think with how much my parents pay him that he’d work a little faster...”

“We just got paid two days ago,” Hoseok points out, completely baffled as to how Jungkook was able to go through that money so quickly. “What did you do?”

Standing in the middle of Jungkook’s apartment, you and Hoseok just heave out a heavy sigh, shaking your heads in disappointment. He has new curtains, one that makes it easier for the sun to shine through in the mornings which has been an incredibly huge mood booster for him. His futons now have pillows and a blanket to claim their own. Then there was the fridge— full of almost every type of frozen meal from the aisles of the grocery store. And the pantry was an entirely different story; stacks of ramen, chips, cookies— they were practically spilling.

“Jungkook, you need to learn how to control your spending.” You say with great dismay, skimming through the labels of all the ramen bowls and packets that pile on top of each other. “If you keep going at this rate, you’re going to be so broke that you’ll be living on our couches on rotation.”

His face brightens. “You’d let me live on your couch if I needed to?” 

Ignoring his question blatantly, you start browsing his apartment with Hoseok. His suitcases and boxes remain full of things that he brought back from the estate which has you going through them in pure amusement. “You guys... wanna help me unpack or something?”

“Unpack or something. Either or.” You pull out a velvet royal blue suit from one of the boxes that’s still in its clear plastic jacket for the outer protective layer. “Jungkook, want to give me a reason why you have this?”

“Oh. That’s this year’s Hugo Boss. Haven’t worn it yet, I needed to get it fitted.”

Your nostrils flare at the words. “... OK, so why do you still have it? You’re a lower middle class guy living in a studio apartment that’s still probably being paid by his parents who have a butt load of money so they honestly don’t even know they’re still putting money into this. Why they hell would you have a suit that’s...” flipping the label around, your jaw nearly pops off when it drops to the floor, “₩665,175,000.00? Jungkook, what the flying fuck—”

“What?” Hoseok drops the bag of chips he’s in the midst of opening from his hands. Despite also coming from money, he was never that rich in comparison to Jungkook. “Yeah, Hobi, you heard that right. $600,000.00 buckaroos. That’s the cost of a house right there.”

“The Jeon estate is actually—“ You place your index finger against Jungkook’s lips to hush him. “Don’t even. You need to sell this suit.”

“Sell—“ Breathless, Jungkook looks like he’s going to pass out. “I can’t sell a limited edition suit. It was hard to even get it in the first place! What makes you think I’m going to sell it?”

“Because you have 30 bucks to your name.” You respond bluntly before picking up another suit that he has lying underneath the first. “Or sell this one.”

“Not the 2021 Vintage Gucci Men’s Suit!”

“How— One, how can something be vintage if it’s in 2021? And it’s not even 2021 yet?”

The sun begins to set; the rays peering through the curtains gradually dissipates, leaving the three of you sprawled across Jungkook’s new apartment with clothes splattered on every possible surface in the poorly lit room. He still lacked another lamp, but the one his mother left was going to have to do. The staff dinner plans are cancelled, mostly because reorganizing Jungkook’s belongings has been an unanticipatedly gratifying yet a fraught chore that took up more time than predicted. Jungkook was hoping to attend the dinner, but after seeing how much effort you and Hoseok put in trying to make his living space a bit more comfortable, the hope for going to the event has been pushed to the back of his mind.

“Do you guys want to order take-out?” Jungkook suggests, and both you and Hoseok nod while sharing each halves of the futon. “But we’ll pay since you barely have any money. You can get us next time.”

Next time, which means that you guys want to hang out with Jungkook again. 

To him, this is a huge step in the friendship direction. Throughout the entirety of his life, having friends had never really been a thing. Sure, he had play-dates per request from his mother, but those kids were fans of the stuff he owned, they didn’t even like him for him. It had become a recurrence up until high school, where the replacement for the need for friendship had been occupied with flings with women instead. People hung around him for the image, but he never felt a connection with anyone.

That was, until he met you and Hoseok.

Although he’d known Hoseok from showing up at the same parties, he never actually got to talk to him on this level until he visited the supermarket that fateful day. He was always the fun guy at parties; attention constantly gravitating toward him, whether he liked it or not, and he came from money as well, so Jungkook wasn’t sure if those people were surrounding him because of it. Sure, Hoseok’s parents weren’t as rich as Jungkook’s, but they were pretty high up there and could afford almost anything they desired.

Yet, he preferred this sight of Hoseok. Baggy hoodie and jeans, skin greasy from spending the day at work then coming to Jungkook’s apartment to unpack. He’s nagging at you for taking up too much space, covering the surface area that Hoseok had claimed to be his under an unspoken contract as you frown when he slaps your leg.

He likes this. There’s no gowns and tuxes in a ballroom with hors d'oeuvres worth the price of a car per bite; there’s no young people at a party, getting wasted and high, fucking in bedrooms that they weren’t sure who it belonged to; there wasn’t a dining room full of both family and strangers that attempted to start small talk about things he didn’t care about— there was none of that. Just comfort from people he genuinely wanted to impress and make proud of him. He’s not sure if he’s ever felt this way before and he’s barely even known either of you that long. Jungkook has been spending most of his life trying to fill a void in him and has been unsuccessful. He’s finally feeling like he’s going somewhere.

You and Hoseok finally agree on what to eat and he learns that it’s your favorite. Pizza. Extra cheese, pepperoni, sausage, spinach with an ungodly amount of jalapeño peppers, Hoseok mentioned earlier that night that your tolerance for spicy foods is stronger than the pits of hell. 

“Jesus, how are you eating this?” Jungkook cries, snot dripping from his nose while Hoseok wipes his tears after taking another bite. You sit there, unfazed, picking up the abandoned slices of peppers that sit in the box, dropping them into your mouth. “It’s honestly not that spicy. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Bitch, we are not being dramatic, your stomach is made out of whatever Captain America’s shield is made from...”

Jungkook’s phone buzzes in the midst of your argument with Hoseok and just from the name on his lock screen, his heart drops. Jeon Junghwan.

There were a couple things in life that Jungkook wanted to attain— the acceptance from Junghwan and his parents being on top of that list. Ever since Jungkook was younger, Junghwan had been the golden child, the rest of the four were just barely making it, arduously following in his footsteps. But he failed, he hasn’t been able to win the approval from him.

Jeon Junghwan [7:55PM]: Mother is having a charity banquet on Saturday. She would have called you but figured it’d be best if I contacted you instead. Something about ‘inspiration’. Please be at the estate at 7:00PM sharp.

Jeon Junghwan [7:55PM]: Goodnight, Junghwan.

“Why does he text like an old man?” Jungkook flinches, head turning sideways to meet with Hoseok hovering over his shoulder. “Junghwan, I mean. But cool, I was supposed to go to that banquet too, until I got called on a shift. Luckily you’re not scheduled.”

“Yeah...” He says quietly, seated on the floor as he leans back against the sides of the futon. “This is the first time I’m seeing my family after moving out. I need to plan this out right.”

“Well, what’s the plan?” Cheeks full of fries, you’re munching away on the other side of Jungkook as he contemplates the next steps he’s going to have to make in order to reach his goal. “One thing is for sure. You’re going to be my date.”

The breath has been stolen away from his lungs and his heart feels like you’ve pierced through his chest cavity and squashed it into the palm of your hands. He doesn’t know what it’s called (maybe a blowout) but the way your hair cascades down to your shoulders is marveling. In a black long dress with a slit that exposes the entirety of your legs, his breath hitches when his eyes meet the skin of your thighs, the spaghetti straps drape over your décolletage with the v-cut neckline only finishing it off right. He thinks this is his fatal moment. He’s never seen you dolled up like this before; cheeks brushed with a peach blush, lashes emphasized with mascara, liner that makes you look even more fierce, and lips... so buttery pink and plump that almost wishes he could—

“Jungkook?” He shivers, immediately pushing the thoughts out of his head. You’d probably stab him in mere seconds if you knew what he was thinking about. “H-Hey. You look good.” 

You grin, adjusting the fabric that hangs around your legs. “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself. Anyways, let’s get going. You said your brother sent a car for us?”

Even though Jungkook is a model and has posed in magazines in suits, it’s still a surprise to see how stunning he manages to look in person. He keeps his hair casual today, despite the formal attire, but when his fingertips rake through those luscious locks, it makes sense why he went with that decision. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t believe that this hunk was living off of frozen meals and instant ramen for the past week. 

He’s pretty, yet there’s something that you can’t help but loathe about him. 

Jungkook is still from money, despite the amount of times you’ve seen him in the supermarket’s uniform and apron. It’s something you’ve been trying to force yourself to remember when you feel yourself slowly falling into the traps of his smile and looks. The reminder is there when a Mercedes Benz S-Class pulls up and Jungkook isn’t as astonished as you are. The window of the driver’s side rolls down, revealing a middle-aged man who wears a chauffeur’s hat and a grin upon his lips. “Jeon Jungkook, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Hyungjin,” He dips his head in acknowledgement before saying your name, “... this is my date. This guy has been my driver since I was born. Park Hyungjin. He’s going to be taking us to the estate tonight.”

Jungkook opens the back door for you as you slide in with ease, completely in veneration at the characteristics of the vehicle. It feels luxurious, from the leather seats to the center console, and when you see Hyungjin beginning to raise the customized partition between the front and back seats, you’re shocked it can even do that until Jungkook halts him from doing so. “Uh, sorry, Hyungjin, she’s not one of those nights.”

Oh, you think to yourself, this was a routine. His preceding lifestyle is starting to unfold before you.

Arriving at the ‘estate,’ which was something you’d had been stuck with trying to adjust yourself in calling Jungkook’s family home, it’s an unreservedly different part of the home compared to your first visit however a sudden coldness hits your core from incredulity. How could anyone need a home this big? Jungkook guides you out of the car before you could even register the visuals of the home, waving Hyungjin goodbye and brisk “thank you.”

“Hold my hand.” His fingertips brush against the back of your hand discreetly, and as a reflex, you slap him away while he whimpers in pain. “What the hell was that for?”

“Sorry. Habit.” When you try to reach for him again, he opts for resting his palm on your lower back instead, keeping you close. “It’s okay. Is this alright?” You nod. “This is better anyway. We look close yet at the same time professional.”

When you step into the ballroom, you quickly learn that your previous time at the Jeon estate had only been a glimpse of what Jungkook’s sumptuous home had to offer. There’s something of a mezzanine or indoor balcony of some sorts with staircases that branch around the perimeter where a couple people stand idly. The chandelier that you saw in the dining room before was no comparison to what was currently hanging from the ceiling right now— there’s diamonds that hang like raindrops, intricately scattered with clear clarity that only the rich could identify and have the opportunity to see in person. The guests are dressed like those diamonds— sparkles and jewels of women that bathed in the crystals, accompanied by men who simply wore tuxedos and suits. 

But the real stars of the show were the Jeons. With Mrs. Jeon’s hair in an updo, it accentuates her collarbones and shoulders where her dress lies; a beautiful detailed lavender gown that you can already sense the weight of when she drags it behind her. You see where Jungkook gets his genes from.

The filler music from the orchestra that plays in the corner stops, the chattering along with it as they all divert their attention to the Jeons that stand by the railings of the balcony— the four boys and their dates. All that’s missing is Jungkook who stands beside you, hand graduating from your lower back to your waist. 

“Hello, everyone,” Mrs. Jeon greets, a pearly white smile upon her lips. “I am so thankful for your attendance here. As you know, tonight is dedicated toward the Cancer Research Foundation of Seoul, known as the CRFS, and I will be the host tonight but the true genius behind this all is my son, Jeon Jungsik.”

Jungsik approaches his mother from the side, dressed just as well as the rest of his siblings, shaking his head in disapproval. “Mother, I couldn’t have done this without you,” He says humbly, eyes browsing the crowd but pauses when he sees Jungkook with you by his side. There’s something hidden behind his stare, Jungkook hypothesizes, because his modest brother suddenly wants the spotlight whereas previously, he’d be standing in the audience. He can’t tell if it’s because it’s the first family event where he’s sober or if truly there’s something about Jungsik that’s different. “But tonight is a different kind of night. We’re here today not to just donate what we can to a good cause, but celebrating as well. I’m announcing my engagement with Kim Nari.”

An abrupt realization washes over Jungkook.

Kim Nari. The daughter of a tech mogul whose relationship with Jungsik would further advance the Jeon Corporation and skyrocket their profits. Her marriage with Jungsik would link the two companies together, creating possibilities for what seemed to be impossible. Which brings to question, why would Jungsik be interested in Nari? She’s a reflection in the mirror of Jungkook himself— uncontrollable, spoiled, and dependent with no future planned. Why would Jungsik, someone with passions, dreams, and stability want to be with someone like that? Something was up, and Jungkook can taste the bitterness in his mouth.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, but you genuinely don’t care. Anything would be better than listening to conversations that were beginning to start up again at the hasty announcement. Nari has one of her hands sitting upon the rail, waving as if she’s the Queen of England, with a dress that may be deemed inappropriate for a setting like this. It seems that the rest of the family is hearing the engagement for the first time though because Mrs. Jeon looks like she’s going to faint and Mr. Jeon is holding in his anger rather than noticing Nari’s attire.

“Nothing, just... something weird with my brother.” He says before turning to give you his attention again. “Anyway, should I introduce you to my horrific bloodline?”

When Jungkook guides you toward his family members that have begun trickling down the staircase, you’re appearing to have heart palpitations from the suspense. The way the Jeons walk is intimidating alone; shoulders pushed back, straightened posture, and smiles that resemble authenticity on the surface but daggers will be pulled at their disposal if anything goes haywire.

“Mother, Father, this is my girlfriend...” You altogether miss when Jungkook says your name from the sight of his family up close until he squeezes your waist gingerly to capture your awareness again. “Oh, yes, hi,” You bow speedily, “I’m uh, Jungkook’s girlfriend.” Wait. Didn’t he just say that?

“Are you now? Last time we spoke, you said you weren’t,” Mrs. Jeon comments, and albeit her words sound harsh, the draw of her lips upwards say otherwise. It feels a bit forced, but you know it’s from the sudden news coming from Jungsik. There’s a façade of happiness when deep down, she’s disappointed. “We... we met after that night and he treated me to dinner for taking care of him. We’ve been... seeing each other ever since.” 

Mr. Jeon stands there in silence, observing the conversation between you and his wife before unexpectedly speaking up. “Did you attend University? And have you graduated yet?”

Jungkook knows what this is. The Interrogation. Every Jeon child’s significant other has gone through this and you were next. He had completely forgotten about it— mostly because his other brothers had gone through it years ago, and Jongseok’s ‘girlfriends’ had never really been girlfriends, so their dad had given up on that until someone serious came by.

He never thought it’d be him before Jongseok.

“Yes, back in 2016.” You state, fingers fidgeting with the metal chain of your purse. It was a simple question yet the way it’s executed is as if he’s searching for a particular answer.

The older gentleman tilts his head, the space between his brows crinkling in perplexity. He looks so much like Jungkook, except matured with wisdom, and if Jungkook was of any replication of his father when he’s that age, he’d probably still have a line of women after him. “So you’re older than Jungkook.”

“No, father,”  Jungkook chimes in, “... Quite the opposite. She’s actually a year younger than me. Graduated University rather early. Or... well, she finished high school early.” He can see from his peripheral vision that he has captured the ears of his other siblings that stand languidly. “Gifted, really. Child prodigy. Despite all the talented Jeon children, we’ve never had one of those.”

There’s a glimmer in his father’s eyes. He’s impressed. “Really?” His stiff tone has shifted to a lighter one. “Did you study in Seoul? What was your degree in?”

“No, uh, I actually studied abroad in New York after graduating high school. I was about... maybe fifteen at the time? I chose Food Science— I thought about being a Chef because my inspiration is Guy Fieri but someone told me to be a bit more realistic with my brain so here we are.”

Guy Fieri? Jungkook stifles a laugh at your secretive role model, rubbing your sides comfortingly. It’s something to tease you about later, but right now, you have a job to do. Swoon his father.

Mr. Jeon nods, hands slipping into the front pockets of his slacks. “Remarkable. We could use someone like you in the Jeon Corporation.”

Both you and Jungkook choke, clearing your throats at the sudden suggestion, glancing at one another. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m thinking about opening a chain of restaurants, something high end, something different.” Jungkook’s brothers are stepping in closer to listen shamelessly to the conversation, the look of disarray stamped onto each one of their faces as if it’s the first time they’re hearing this information, for the second time tonight. “I would love it if you gave me your take on how to proceed on some things, and help the chef formulate something that makes sense without him cheating me out on prices. Jungkook, tell Maeri to schedule something for us so I can discuss further details.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” You blurt, palms growing sweaty. “But you just met me, and Jungkook and I just started dating. Are you sure you trust me?” It’s another experience of déjà vu; Jungkook mirroring his father’s actions at the yacht party when he claims that he’d pay for your aspirations.

“Of course. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t have girlfriends.”

Just then, someone taps his shoulder and whispers something ineligible into his ear before he turns to you with his hand extended, and you take the offer with a firm shake. “I’m needed elsewhere. It was nice meeting you. Glad to know Jungkook chose someone fitting.” And with that, he leaves.

“Well, that was pleasant,” Mrs. Jeon comments, hand resting on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Seems that sending you off to live alone has brought nothing but good impressions on your father. Keep it up, Kook-ah. I’m going to go accompany him, so in the meanwhile, introduce her to your brothers, why don’t you?”

Turning your body to face Jungkook, you let out the hugest breath you’ve ever held in your entire life. “What was that?”

He looks equally as stunned as you. “I don’t know but that went so much better than I actually thought. I think that was the fastest he’s ever been fascinated by any of our girlfriends.” 

Jungkook’s father had strict outlooks for the company, one of them being that he wanted nothing but pure Jeon blood leading the corporation. This meant that the significant others of any of his children weren’t allowed to be part of the trade. So why did he ask you particularly for a hand in the family business?

“Jungkook,” One of his brothers calls out, your heads sharply jolting at the sound of his voice.

Have you ever watched Boys Over Flowers? When the Flower 4 walk through any entrance, it’s like time slows down and their hair flows through the wind like they’re models?

That’s what pretty much happens.

“Hyungs.” He says; it’s their own version of a hello and the atmosphere between them is tense. “It’s nice to see you sober, Jungkook.”

His jaw tightens. “I wasn’t an addict, just you so know. Made it easier being around you all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” The one you assume is Jongseok from your previous google search waves his hand, disregarding Jungkook’s statement before pointing his finger directly at you. If only you could bite it off along with his rude mannerisms. “Girl toy?”

“Girlfriend,” Jungkook corrects him and his other brothers are intrigued. “This is my girlfriend,...” As he says your name, your eyes immediately are drawn to the woman behind one of the males; shiny caramel colored hair with the simplest white dress that hugs her small waist that still manages to make her look like a goddess with a smile that was so sweet your teeth start to hurt. You recall catching a sight of her in the same magazines that Jungkook featured in and on the posters at the mall whenever you’d walk into a store but how she looked in person was flawless compared to those photos. She was like the real life version of a photoshopped picture.

“This is Hayoung, my brother Junghwan’s wife.”

“Uh, H-H-Hi,” why does she make you so nervous? Do you get anxious around extremely beautiful women? “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” She hums, cheekbones high with her grin. “Kookie never mentioned he had a girlfriend, let alone brought anyone to meet his family before.”

“Kookie?” You reiterate with a mocking tone. He knows you’ll never let him live this down. Least he still had the Guy Fieri thing up his sleeve. “Noona, it would’ve been nice to keep that away from her for a bit. I’m trying to ease her into this madness. She’s probably still recovering from that conversation with our father.”

“As if!” Hayoung counters back. Her husband, Junghwan, wraps an arm around her waist before dipping his head slightly toward you. “I’m Junghwan, Jungkook’s older brother.” He then begins to point at the other gentlemen. “Jonghyun, Jungsik, and Jongseok, respectively.” 

Frankly, it had been a lot to unpack for the night, and you assumed that the boxes back at his apartment were a lot, but this was truly a lot. Within an hour, Jungkook introduces you to almost anyone that plays a significant role in his life and elaborates on each of their backgrounds. 

Junghwan, his eldest brother, is married to the international supermodel Na Hayoung, and he’s the next in line to inherit the CEO position when his father steps down from the company. He’s been trained all his life for this role, apparently, and it’s evident in how he carries himself. Jonghyun, the second oldest, stands behind Junghwan in the company, supposedly his right hand man when it comes to business, joined at the hip although their personal relationship with each other isn’t as close. He’s also married, Jungkook mentions, but his wife is currently very pregnant and at home. He skips over Jungsik, only because you’ve met him over dinner, but he doesn’t miss a beat when he says that Jungsik is purportedly the angelic Jeon. Lastly was Jongseok, the last sibling before himself, and was described as something along the lines of, “the most useless, right after myself, and if it weren’t for his involvement with the marketing department because of his diploma, he’d be living in a studio apartment downtown, cut off from this family too.” Jungkook’s words, not yours.

The night slowly reaches an end, people scattering to leave the estate, thanking Jungkook’s parents for hosting such a charitable event. Just before you’re about to step out along with Jungkook, his mother had her fingers wrapped around your wrist. “Jungkook, you and your lovely girlfriend should stay the night. Downtown is far and your siblings will be here as well. Maybe you can show her to your bedroom? I know you’ve been missing your bed and well... maybe show her around your childhood home.” She pauses for a moment as Jungkook hesitates as you eye him suspiciously before interrupting his thoughts. “Your father wants to speak to you and your brothers in the morning anyways, so it would be nice for you to stay for breakfast, dear.”

“Are you fucking dense, Jeon Jungkook? I do not want to stay the night here.” Contradicting your angry words, you’re already unlatching the attachment on the straps of your heels, sliding them off while seated on the bay window seats of his bedroom, rubbing the soles of your feet. “I’m sorry,” He mutters weakly, falling on the foot of his bed. “I don’t know how to say no to my mother.”

“Well, quit being a fucking momma’s boy and call an Uber. I want to go home, Jungkook.”

“Uber’s don’t run this late at night in the area. We live too far off the grid.”

“Well, then ask Mr. Hyungjin to pull up in his whip and take us home.”

His face drops, a guilty look pooling in his orbs. “We sent him home. He’s technically off on the weekends. Hyungjin only came out because Junghwan asked for him beforehand.”

You grumble, laying back on the cushions, locks tangling along with your mood. “What are we supposed to do here? Share a bed? What am I supposed to wear to sleep? Did you already ask your housemaids?”

“No,” He answers bleakly, standing up. “But I’ll go ask now. In the meantime, you can watch some TV? Then when I come back you can shower and do whatever you need. I think I have a spare toothbrush for you to borrow. As for the bed thing...” Jungkook looks over at that California King that he misses so much. “... it’s more than big enough for the two of us, I’ll keep my distance from you without a problem.”

Before you can counter the suggestion, he’s already out the door.

Perusing through his bedroom, you soon learn that this ‘room’ of his is the size of your childhood bedroom times five with a closet the size of your apartment with a connecting bathroom that was equivalent in surface area.

Then it has you thinking. Jungkook grew up like this, in a life of grandeur where everything he had, he had a plethora of. Whether it be education, belongings, or the aid of people who tended to every need he had, it never seems to run out. He had a driver since he was born while you struggled to learn how to take the bus alone at the age of 7. Or running out of money to pay for a new notebook for class since you’ve been using the same one for the past two grades in order to save cash so your parents could put food on the table. While Jungkook over here was probably tearing down trees in his yard to make all the paper in the world. What about noticing that you were ahead of the kids in your class? No one seemed to have realized it until you said to someone that you were bored, and needed more challenging material when you got sent to the Principal’s office per request, begging to be with the bigger kids.

If you had the money Jungkook had, you would’ve been able to pay off both yours and your parents’ debt in addition to opening your bakery all within the same year. 

But you aren’t Jungkook, and jealousy just runs through your veins alongside the enmity. 

Entering through the housemaids’ chambers was a nostalgic feeling that he couldn’t exactly say was his favorite. Sneaking down here during the late hours of the night for quick sex and running back up to his bedroom felt like such a teenager thing to do at the age of twenty, so he instantaneously gave up on that. 

There’s two wooden doors to choose from. Nayeon, the house servant he slept with several times before realizing that she had falling for him while thinking it was some forbidden love, and Hana... also a servant that he had sex with until she also fell in love with him.

So which one of them would be less upset about him asking to borrow their sleepwear for his new girlfriend?

Answer to that question: neither because they both slammed their doors on him after asking. He should’ve figured that sooner.

Next stop: Junghwan’s room. Maybe Hayoung had something for you. 

He hesitates when he’s standing outside of his brother’s bedroom door. It takes him back to when he was a kid all over again, desperate for his big brother’s attention who didn’t even have enough time to dedicate to him. Taking in a deep breath of courage, he does it yet again, his knuckles tapping against the wood that makes the same knocking sound.

Peeking out, Junghwan looks at Jungkook with a perplexed expression. “Jungkook, what’s up? Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Is noona with you?” He nods. “Yeah, of course. She’s washing her face right now, wanna come in?” Jungkook steps into the room, ambivalent with each movement because he’s never been invited into Junghwan’s room before. It’s almost exactly what his room looks like, except all the shades are dark, varying from grey to navy, with his bed, closet, and bathrooms in the same locations. 

“Hayoung, Jungkook is looking for you.”

“Kookie?” Coming out the bathroom with a robe on, her hair is drenched as she attempts to towel dry it, face pretty even without makeup. “What’s up, bub?”

“Uh, my girlfriend,” He starts, rubbing the back of his nape anxiously because he’s never said those words before, “She doesn’t have anything to wear tonight. I have some clothes, but I think she’d feel more comfortable if she at least has some pants.”

“Tell her to sleep in her underwear, what’s the problem?” Because she’s not really my girlfriend, is what he wants to say, but he takes a different approach. “We’re... still in the early stages. So, uh, you know. She’s shy.” She shakes her head with a smile upon her lips. “Okay. Give me a second. I have a bunch of clothes that I left when we used to live here.” With that, she disappears into the closet.

“I’m... proud of you, Jungkook.” Junghwan speaks up, protruding through the silence. Jungkook just stares in bewilderment, unsure what he even did to make Junghwan say those words he had dreamt to hear coming from his eldest brother. “Other than landing a girlfriend who is definitely way out of your league, you’re actually showing some progress living alone. I honestly didn’t really agree with the plan that Jongseok proposed but... I see it’s working well.”

“W-What do you mean?” Jungkook questions. He still can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Junghwan hums. “You were able to find a job yourself. I haven’t seen you coming back begging for money again, and you found someone who doesn’t have the facilities to give you the lifestyle that our parents gave us. You found love without money and I think it really makes a person humble.” He’s fiddling with the strings of his sweatpants now, comprehending that the two of them don’t really talk one-on-one. “I know I changed a lot when I met Hayoung.”

“Kookie, I think I have a couple options for you— whoa, why does it feel so sad here?” She remarks, stopping in the midst of her walk toward Jungkook. “You guys... alright?”

“Nothing,” Junghwan responds quickly. “I just wanted to tell Jungkook that I’m proud of him.” This does nothing but prompt Hayoung to roll her eyes, laying out a pair of shorts and a silky baby blue nightgown. “Junghwan is always proud of Kookie, just not always the decision he makes. Anyways,” She completely brushes off the topic that Jungkook wants to hear, but he’ll circle back to that later. He had a pretty girl waiting in his room who had the temper of the Hulk. “I have two options for you to give her. Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll wear the night gown?”

Jungkook scoffs. “If I brought that to her, she’d probably wrap it around my neck and choke me within seconds. Keep the gown, I’m taking the shorts. I’ll let her wear one of my T-shirts.”

“Are you sure?” Hayoung sings and Jungkook tells her he’s almost confident that he’s going to die tonight if he so much reaches the door with that thing in his hands.

Jungkook chucks the shorts at your face while you’re laying on your back on his mattress. “Here you go, Mrs. Fieri. The girls wouldn’t lend me anything because well... I may have slept with them both and they were hopelessly in love with me. Hayoung noona gave me those shorts instead.” He’s babbling on about how rude the housemaids had been when he asked, but you’re canceling his voice out because the coolest chick you’ve ever met just lent you her shorts.

“... Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?”

He snaps his fingers in front of your face but registers that it’s no use. You’re too busy trying to decipher how God decided to gift Hayoung the looks and the personality that you miss when Jungkook leaves the closet, throwing a plain white t-shirt at your direction. It’s huge compared to you, yet seems like it would fit him well. “Go shower. I’ll be in there after you.”

It’s awkward.

So goddamn awkward. 

Jungkook is wearing a black T-shirt of some band you can’t recognize because the majority of the print has been worn off paired with grey sweatpants that hug his ass so beautifully. Scratch that. You never thought that. They look soft. That’s what you meant.

While you’re currently occupied with attempting to avoid looking at Jungkook, he can’t stop staring at your exposed legs and notice how small and cute you are. Soft. It’s tempting him to want to wrap his arms around your frame and snuggle his nose into the crook of your neck while inhaling the scent of his body wash on your skin. He wants to blame it on the dry spell he’s having because all he does is work nowadays that once he gets home, he’s completely drained. Alcohol doesn’t even appear in his mind either. Or maybe he genuinely thinks you’re pretty and having you in his bed doesn’t make it any better.

Sitting on the farthest opposite ends of the bed, Jungkook clears his throat. “See? I told you that the bed is way too big for the two of us. Should be easy to steer clear from each other.”

Wrong. Incorrect. You should’ve known that Jungkook would be fallacious.

The sun gleams through the sheer white blinds of his prodigious windows, illuminating your faces on an unironically Sunday morning, emitting a groan from a stiff beside you. Your body feels heavier than usual, almost like something was pressing down on you. 

You panic. Were you having a stroke?

After forcing your eyes open from the dry boogers, you can’t believe the sight. Jungkook has his arms and legs tangled in the sheets with yours, nose brushing against your shoulder. He’s so cosy, the most he’s ever been, and the warmth from your body is like a different feeling of home for him. It’s comforting like a cup of hot chocolate during the harsh weather in the Winter or swaddling yourself in a blanket in front of the fireplace. Now knowing how it feels to be in your embrace, he’s not sure if he wants to let go.

“Jungkook, please get the fuck off me.” You bite. Cuddling was not what was discussed in the terms of agreement. Not that there was one but having a buff guy curled up beside you that wasn’t actually dating you was making your heart do cartwheels when it shouldn’t be. He doesn’t seem a bit rattled knowing that he’s snuggling up against you because he scoots even closer. “Five more minutes.” He mutters. His dreams of taking in the aroma of your natural scent mixed in with his shower gel were coming true.

You push him off with as much strength as your body could gather, yet you fail underneath those muscular arms. Those big, thick—

There’s one knock and someone just immediately flings the door open with a gasp. 

But then you see them. Jungsik and Jongseok. 

You don’t know why but you care about how Jungsik sees you, but you care. He’s the closest to your ideal type— as unrealistic as it is for him to ever have a relationship with you, especially since he has a fiancé now— yet at the same time, he knows you’re ‘dating’ Jungkook, and whether or not he believes it, you’re not sure, but your chances were already wearing thin as it is, even worse now that he’s witnessing you in the same bed as his youngest brother. You may have a teensy weensy little crush on your fake boyfriend’s brother.

“Cute,” He chuckles, already dressed in his daily attire; grey slacks that crop at the ankle and a navy dress shirt that doesn’t button up all the way, hugging tightly around his pecs that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “Well, we’re sorry for intruding. Father wants us down for breakfast within an hour. Wake up your boyfriend for us, will you?”

“I’m not sorry,” Jongseok adds with a devilish grin before he quickly shuts the door and leaves promptly with Jungsik. Jungkook hasn’t even moved, not even twitching the slightest bit despite his brothers’ abrupt invasion.

You officially hate Jungkook even more... if that was even possible.

There's an abundance of choices for breakfast foods that sits on the length of the dining room table that you had gotten a glimpse of during your first visit to the Jeon estate, more food than you've ever seen in one place. They had waffles, pancakes, sausages, bacon, toast—all that’s expected of a typical American breakfast laid out like it’s a picture from the Food Network Magazine. He has servants, shuffling through in and out of the room, placing plates and utensils in specific detailed orders before they pull out the heavy upholstered wooden chairs for each and every member of the family in invitation. 

"Uh, it's okay, thank you, I got it—" The woman who has her hands gripped on the framing of the seat tightly as she clenches her jaw, has a glare shooting lasers in your direction. Maybe you'd just take the offer and sit instead. She might be one of Jungkook's late night affairs, you never know what she'd do to your food if you didn't comply.

Sticking out like a sore thumb, you settle yourself by your now claimed to-be-boyfriend who sits comfortably in his own seat since he's owned it for two decades now. You, however, it's your first day and you're not even sure how to feel. Hayoung seems to be doing the opposite; eyes shiny from excitement at the sight of all the options that are laid out in front of her. You can agree to her interest, the Belgium waffles that's stacked at the center of the table with a square of butter residing on top makes your mouth water.

"Thank you all for coming," Jungkook's father announces, the chair he's rested on makes him look so tiny at the head of the table. "I want to discuss some matters with all of you and also invite Jungkook's new love into the family. Honestly never thought this day would come where I'd see my most troublesome child make such advancements in a short span of time."

There's reticence along the table, Mrs. Jeon beside him, eyes searching the table for something in particular. "The proceedings with this engagement with Kim Nari, Jungsik. What did you expect would happen with that?"

And there it was. The conversation that had been put off last night due to guests being on the residence. It's because of two of the things that Mr. Jeon stood by when it came to his family and business: no bloodline, no business entrance had been challenged and the Interrogation had never been in place. 

"Father," Jungsik clears his throat, pressing his back against the cushion. "I'll have you know that I'm only thinking of the future of our company."

"Without talking to me about it?" He snaps, agitated. He doesn't even care that a complete stranger is sitting at the table with them. "What gives you the right to be the only person to know what's good or not for the company? Why not consult with Jonghyun and Junghwan? Why am I told that no one knew about this?"

"Well, I thought—"

"You thought wrong." He confirms, and the Belgium waffles don't seem as appealing anymore. His firmness makes your stomach queasy, despite not being his current victim. "Terminate your engagement. You don't love her anyways. I don't need any affiliation with a self-obsessed tech company."

"But father—"

"None of that." He shushes his son, laying a beige cloth napkin on his lap. "I'm tired of having to teach you how we run this business. I gave you a percentage of the company and I expect you to know what to do with it, which is not to share it with some airhead who doesn't even understand what her own father's company does." Jungsik's body stiffened at his father's lecture after he made a decision solely for what he believed was beneficial for the family business. "Anyways, let's eat." 

"Why do you favor Junghwan over the rest of us?" Jungsik spits, fist slamming against the table. The cups, silverware, and plates trembled underneath his strength, startling you. "I can't believe that I let you walk over us for so long. I can't believe that any of us has let you do it. In reality, none of us get your fortune, just Junghwan. What about the rest of your children? Do you have the only one? Or did mother have an affair for the remaining four?"

Yum, drama. You admit you were getting a little bored last night at the banquet, but his conversation was perking you up in interest. Jungkook oddly remains cool, turning to tap one of the housemaids to pour you some apple juice, patiently waiting for the go to eat. 

Jungsik is disparate in this light because he's not the compassionate and gentle soul you had assumed he was during your first encounters and what was seen on the internet. He’s fierce and competitive, in actuality, with this hidden duel behind doors against his eldest brother. The description written of him was all an image that was portrayed to the public and you start to see what Jungkook means now when he says "apparently" or "supposedly" whenever talking about his older brother.

And Jungkook... he's strangely distinctive as well when sitting amongst his siblings. He's quiet, actually, and attentive, but you take note that he mentions before how he often comes to these things under the influence, and that your presence was what halts him from doing so. 

"Just eat. We'll talk privately later." Mr. Jeon says through his gritted teeth, tips of his ears fading red from Jungsik talking back.

"I saw you eying that waffle earlier," Jungkook says in a hushed tone, leaning into you. "Want one? I'll grab it for you."

OK, maybe he wasn't that bad. He knows what you like and he’s getting it for you. You’ve waited long enough.

The Jeons are awfully good at pretending the argument between Mr. Jeon and Jungsik didn't occur. Everyone sits in lull, occasionally exchanging comments with whomever sits beside them but consuming their breakfast with glee. It wasn't something you were used to.

When you're back into Jungkook's room, you slip on a jacket that you brought the night before, zipping it up. "Is that... normal?"

"What's normal?"

"That whole thing with Jungsik and your dad. Do they fight often? And do you guys normally just... sit there and forget it even happens afterwards?"

He slides onto the bed one last time, inhaling deeply in the scent of lavender, wishing he could take this bed with him as he absentmindedly responds, "Mmm. Yeah."

What kind of family dynamic is this? "Yeah? And you just... watch?" 

"Well, what else are we supposed to do? Join in? Take sides? Hell no. It's a different sibling each meal and every time there’s always someone being jealous of someone else. We don’t really get along here and it’s just what we’re used to.”

Treading into Jungkook’s reality was starting to become comprehensible. Almost justifying the way he is, how he’s utterly clueless in basic situations and disconnected he was from the world. Because this is his world; his parents, four brothers, and house full of servants, and he knows nothing outside of it. Their home is completely off the grid, separated from people living regular lives, he even has his own tennis court (you learned from the view from his bedroom), and no one normal has their own private tennis court. His mother has been shielding him his entire life, letting him grow and become a shell of a man in an empty home.

Family isn’t family to him, is what you’ve come to terms with and something he hasn’t yet accepted because he hasn’t seen what a real family looks or feels like. His home isn’t a real home but brimming with employees who work for his family that probably see him more than the people who he called relatives.

It makes you pity him and want to show him what it’s like to be home.