#so at least she doesn't have to *see* that the hammer doesn't make it into the prism.

[bard-of-spiders]

Fic positive: I get to fix the weird bits of story where it felt there should have been another option for another outcome

Fic Positive: I have to pic one of these options still.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Konig kidnapping a girl who doesn't speak English nor German. She be begging him to stop in her native language and Konig would probably think "hmm yeah she is asking me to fuck her harder"

Kidnapping a silly little tourist who couldn't even speak any language that he knows...it's almost like a pet situation for him - you don't understand him and he likes to take care of you while you're sitting in his basement and cry to be let go. He wouldn't give you an internet access, of course, and you don't understand anything he is saying - so you're terrified every time he gets into the basement and starts taking off your clothes. He is whispering something to you - something that you don't understand, not even in the slightest. Sometimes, it sounds like something soft, almost like a pet name. Sometimes he is borderline screaming, forcing you to sumbit - you're too terrified to move anyway, but sometimes it's not enough. Sometimes he is pushing your head down until you can't do anything but whimper pathetically as he fucks you. Sometimes you feel like he almost understands you. When you're hurt and can do nothing but beg him to stop, he sometimes listens. Pushes you into a hug and brings you good food - you learn to understand him even if you don't speak the language. He must be lonely, judging by the long, one-sided conversations he has with you. He speaks to you like a man would speak to his dog - sometimes giving you treats when you look particularly clever. This is embarrassing and humiliating, but at least he stopped fucking you every second you're awake. At least now, sometimes, you would wake up with his cock buried in your pussy and he won't start hammering into you immediately. He would just grunt something in your ear and continue sleeping. You just hope he doesn't call you a whore in his language. It actually takes him too long to see what language you speak and what dictionary he should bring to you. German is atrocious, and learning it while sitting on his cock and feeling him dangerously creep closer to your ass, making you believe that if you won't learn how to greet him properly very soon, you'd have to forget about ever sleeping without feeling sore again.

[heich0e]

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."

[werecreature-addicted]

I remember some of your posts about a minotaur who lived with a peasant girl, can I ask for something about that? If it's not a bother of courseDue to the life that the minotaur has had, its instincts never appeared, that is, it never went through a stage of heat due to the stress and abuse to which it was subjected, but now everything is different, it is calmer, more relaxed, and it began to pay attention to a girl, specifically the girl she lives with, and apparently her instincts are beginning to appear, her body asks her to "mate" with her partner, although it is difficult to control herself, plus they are nothing yet and the girl does not know that minotaurs also go through a hot season, and it's not like she was going to ask him that, it would be very strange xd

(imagine that poor cock crying to enter the girl, but he must hide it, even if it is uncomfortable)

Sam master list for previous parts.

under the cut because this is long...for me at least.

Normally when it came to the physically demanding chores around the farm Sam liked to do the heavy lifting, literally. You were stronger than you looked but you still didn't have the monstrous strength that he did, and even besides that, he liked to spoil you. He'd never admit it out loud but he liked the way you sometimes watched him as he repaired the siding of a barn or hammered in a sense post. Something about the way your eyes followed him left a warm feeling in his belly. It's especially nice now that sometimes you kiss him after he's done a good job.

Now though, he just stands and stares as you work, nailing together bits of wood making your own saddle stand out of leftover bits of material. You looked so good, sweaty, and bent over your little bench. Is this how you felt when you watched him work? Sam doesn't even have the vocabulary to describe the strange heat that burns inside of him. He's supposed to be doing other work right now but he can't tear his eyes from you.

He wants to bend you over that saddle stand and- and what? He flinches back from the thought he didn't want to hurt you and he hates that his instincts are pushing him in that direction. But he wouldn't hurt you, his mind argues back. He wouldn't pin you down to hurt win a match or something. He'd be gentle. He'd pleasure you. Sam shudders. Where were these thoughts coming from?

His nostrils flare and even from across the barn, he can smell you and the salt of your sweat makes his cock throb. Sam sits down hard and pulls a nearby milk bucket over the large tent in his pants. He immediately feels stupid and tosses the pail aside, it did more to draw attention to his boner than hide it. He settles for just sitting awkwardly and hoping you don't notice.

How can Sam ever look you in the eye again after this? He supposes he shouldn't feel so guilty about being attracted to you but surely it's perverse to want you this badly when you're not even doing anything. At least if you were naked in bed trying to seduce him he'd have good reason to be this turned on. Sam shudders and replays the mental image of you, naked in bed, looking up at him trying to pull him towards you. Fuck he needed to get on top of you.

Just as that thought crossed his mind you bent over the waist-height wooden stand to grab something from your toolbox jutting your ass out in front of him. In a second Sam is on his feet, walking towards you before he can register what he's even doing, all he knows is that he needs you.

"oh, Sam-" you gasp, jumping a little when you turn to see him right behind you. For someone so big he moved silently. Sam takes a step forward and presses you back against the barn wall. "What's going on honey?" you ask trying to sound calm but you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous about his behavior. Sam had always been so cautious with you, overly gentle and paranoid that he might hurt you by accident. The Sam you knew would never pin you against a wall like this, it was nervewracking but also exciting.

"I uhm I just wanted to be close to you I guess," he mumbled, lowering his snout to your shoulder as if he was smelling you. Sam steps closer and you feel something brush against your thigh at first you think it's his leg but you look down and realize it's his barely restrained cock poking into your thigh.

"Do- are you uhm in heat Sam?" You ask and the monster on top of you freezes.

"do- do minotaurs go into heat?" he asks puzzled.

"I guess I don't know but most monsters do have you really never gone into heat before?" You ask then wince, it made sense that he wouldn't go into heat when he was under such harsh conditions his body wouldn't let him go into such a vulnerable state.

"No," he said, his hips grinding softly against your thigh he groans at the friction and you can't help but shudder too. You might not go into heat but you did want him just as much. "Will you help me?" he asked desperately.

"yes- yeah, I'll help you let me just-" As soon as he has your consent all other thoughts fly out of his head. He pushes his mouth to yours kissing you and effectively shutting you up. This wasn't like any of the other soft and innocent kisses you and Sam had shared in the past this was heated, and needy and caused a warm heat to bloom inside of you. This isn't a kiss for the sake of kissing, this is a kiss that promises much much more to come.

Even desperate like this, Sam still tries to be gentle as he strips your clothes and kneels down so he can hook your legs over his broad, muscular shoulders, your back pressed to the wall of the barn he holds your weight easily.

"I'm going to get you nice and prepped for me, my cock is big and I need you to take every inch, okay?" he asks softly, kissing the soft skin of your inner thigh as his thick fingers ghost over your cunt.

"Hold my horns while you rid my face," Sam instructs. You look down at his horns, one normal and the other broken and jagged. You hesitated, you knew how much that broken horn hurt him and you didn't want to grab it, but before you could put much more thought into it Sam pressed his mouth to your cunt, running his large soft tongue over your folds getting you wet enough to slot his big fingers inside of you. You yelp and settle for holding on to his good horn with one hand and tangling your fingers in his hair with the other.

Sam's cock ached. He needed to be buried inside of you, but he held himself back. He imagined the pained squeak you'd make if he tried to fuck you without any prep and that was almost enough to snap him out of his lusty haze. Almost.

You lose count of how many times you cum as he stretches you out and gets you ready for his dick, eventually though he decides that you're ready for him, or he just gets tired of waiting. Your legs tremble and for a second you worry you're not going to be able to stand on your own but you needn't worry, Sam had no intention of letting you stand. he readjusts his grip so that your legs are over his forearms and he pins you against the wall again his cock nudging your opening, slipping up your pussy as he tries unsuccessfully to push into you. His cock head bumps your clit and you feel a pulse of warm precum ooze out onto your hot skin making you shudder, your thighs tense in his arms, and Sam grunts, spreading your legs a little further as he grinds his cock over your cunt again.

You reach between your two bodies and grasp his cock. You curse silently to yourself feeling the weight and girth of it for the first time. You stroke him a few times before you guide his dick inside of you.

Sam had been so careful to be gentle with you this whole time, but now that he feels your tight heat gripping him in a way he's never felt before he no longer has the restraint. His brain shuts off and he feels more like a beast than he has in years. Sam slams his hips against yours burying his cock to the hilt in one swift motion. You cry out and dig your nails into his biceps, holding on for dear life as he thrusts into you with all the strength of a bull plowing a field. You're pretty sure you hear something crack and for a minute you aren't sure if it's you or the barn wall behind you that's breaking.

Sam groans loudly as he sinks his cock into you over and over again. His hips have a mind of their own as they steadily rock back and forth. He hates to admit it, but every time you cry out in pleasure or in pain it makes his cock throb. He would have thought the sound of you hurting-hurting because of him, would be enough to break his heart instead it makes him whimper and only fuels his desire to fuck you harder and fill you with his cum until you were swollen with it.

The mental image of you bloated with his seed proves to be too much for him and with one more deep stroke he cums deep inside of you, his legs shake with the relief of finally breeding you. He pulls you away from the wall and crashes backward into a hay bail laying down to catch his breath while keeping you impaled on his cock.

It feels right to have you on his chest and be surrounded by the earthy comforting smell of hay and dirt. You shift a little and his hands fly up to your hips pushing you back down.

"Stay... please," he almost begs softly.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam, I just want to get off your dick," you promise, trying to shift again. then he looks at you with the saddest most pleading look you've ever seen. his big brown cow eyes sparkling at you.

"Please don't, I want to be inside of you so you can feel me get hard again before I fuck you," he mumbles pleadingly. how could you say no to that face?

[luveline]

oooh! just had an idea!!! bombshell reader x spencer where he comes over to her apartment one day on the weekend to suprise her with breakfast/flowers bc they just started dating. however, bombshell is in sweats/no makeup/messy hair when she answers but when she sees its spencer, she FLIPS out/slams the door bc she doesnt want him to see her in that state. spencer, however, is confused ofc because he genuinely doesnt notice her outfit/lack of makeup and thinks she is gorgeous no matter what.

hope this is ok ♡ fem, 1.1k

The song starts slow and ends slower. You could picture Spencer listening to it, his head on your shoulder or yours on his, wired earphones shared between you. 

You grab a pencil to jot a quick post-it note so you'll remember, one knee on your desk chair. You don't want to sit down with the shower running in case you get distracted by your new photo frame.

You and Spencer took a photo to commemorate finally getting together. Or rather, Hotch did, standing behind the camera with an impossible mixture of fondness and disapproval. You look like a true couple with matching graphic t-shirts and beaming smiles, Spencer's arm over your shoulders and yours behind his back. You can't see it without staring; you use all your strength to ignore the photo, pulling your post-it from its pad and tacking the yellow square to your vanity. Tell Spencer about love song from Ocean Boulavard. 

The door to your apartment rings with a knock. If you weren't distracted in your losing don't-think-about-Spencer battle, you'd recognise the timid pattern of it. 

You've been expecting a parcel all weekend. 

"Coming!" you call, tugging a sweater over your vest top, plaid pyjama pants dragging against the floor as you make your way out of your bedroom and into the main living area. "Two seconds!" 

You give yourself a precursory glance in the mirror next to the door before you answer it. You'd never go out like this, but the delivery driver won't see you long. You're mostly clean and fully dressed, though your socks don't match. 

That's another thing to tell Spencer. He must be rubbing off on you. 

"Hello," you say cheerily, pulling the door open with a smile. 

"Hi," Spencer says, big brown eyes aglow at the sight of you, his hands full to bursting. There are enough things in his hands to hide his chest completely. 

You don't have a chance to decipher exactly what he's brought as you flinch behind the cover of the door, not cruel enough to close it in his face, but wanting to. "Spencer! What are you doing here?" 

"Well, you live here." 

His hand comes up tentatively near yours on the door. He doesn't push it further in or attempt to come inside. He might have, if you hadn't squeaked in warning, biting down on the soft inside of your cheek. 

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Everything is fine!" You squeeze your eyes closed, your pulse a hummingbird hammering between them. 

"Really?" Spencer asks, taking back his hand. "Can I–"

There's a shuffling sound like he might step forward, and that's the last straw, you're fully panicking as you slam it closed.

A too long silence. Your breath comes unnaturally quickly, your thoughts racing to match. I can't believe I just did that. Why did I do that? 

What do I do? 

"Spencer, I'm naked," you say. 

"You were definitely wearing clothes. What's wrong? I brought breakfast, I thought I'd surprise you. I texted you. When you didn't answer I figured maybe you were still sleeping after last night, but… now I'm thinking maybe I read that wrong."

"You didn't read it wrong! You can always come over!" you insist, looking around behind you as if you might suddenly find a full face of makeup hiding in your sideboard, or a fresh change of clothes hanging on the coat hooks. 

"Okay, so, can I come in?" 

You poke at the sore bit of skin in your cheek with a wince. "Spence, I'm not dressed. Like, I'm not ready. I look like a mess." 

"You looked beautiful. For the two seconds that I could see your face, at least." You breathe in uselessly. An answer doesn't present itself. Spencer offers some wisdom while you panic, but you aren't sure you want to hear it. "We're dating, right? So as much as you clearly don't want me to see you like this, it's gonna happen. Hopefully regularly?" He laughs lightly on the other side of the door. "Can I please come in?" 

Nerves gnaw at your fingers, uncomfortable pins and needles. "What if you don't like it as much?" you ask quietly. You're surprised he can hear you. 

"Do you trust me?"

What sort of question is that? This isn't about trust. This is about you, an image of yourself you hold and that you want others to share, it's why you dress as you do, why you wear your intricate hairstyles, and spend hours upon hours priming and primping.

You want to be pretty deeply, especially in Spencer's eyes. Do you trust him to find you pretty still, without all the extra effort? Pretty from the moment you wake up? 

You wait for the verdict as you open the door again. The handle clicks and lugs, the hinge whining as it swings inward. You step backward to allow him space, meeting Spencer's eyes with an insecurity that doesn't suit you.

He doesn't react at first. His hand tightens around the neck of a sprawling bouquet, wildflowers like a burst of colour against his chest, the long white body of a lily of the valley kissing the curve of his neck. He smells like powdered sugar donuts and the food truck they came from, the story of his obsession a remembered delight. I think of you every time I cross the square to the train station by my place. The warm vanilla smell reminds me of your perfume. But I'm usually already thinking of you. He's been bringing you donuts intermittently for months now. 

He finally smiles at you, all manner of morning warmth flooding the room with him. The sun at his heels, the silky brown colour of his hair, you look up as he steps close, as light silhouettes him, turns the silk to fluff. You can see every detail this close down to the baby flyaways, and he can see the same. 

"How could you think I wouldn't like this?" he asks. His words are hushed with earnestness but yards from hesitant. Spencer is unabashedly, genuinely enamoured with you. "You're so pretty. You always are." 

You beg him silently to hold your face, taking the flowers from his hand. He can read you from that small action alone, raising a deft hand to your cheek. 

You lean into his palm. 

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

It's a bit long - maybe it a two-parter? But reader is in love with Eddie and tries to show him, sending him love notes in his locker but he thinks (hopes) they are from Chrissy so she decides to just give up, thinking he will never see her like that so she distances herself completely and he doesn't understand why - she even changes direction when they are about to run into each other in the corridor - and when he finally manages to confront her she just tells him "You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on" and he's like "well, how do you know that, you've never given me a chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realize you were the one sending the notes!"

Request by @somethingvicked 💞

Angst, fluff, pining.

💞

For the last two weeks you had a secret. It was something you hadn't told anyone, not even Robin.

The note in your pocket is carefully sealed in an envelope that you are going to try and sneak in Eddie's locker.

In the last few weeks you have been leaving love notes for your long time crush Eddie Munson. You had poured your heart out in the notes, it was cathartic. A way to express your feelings that were bursting to be let out and it was nice to watch the sweet smile on Eddie's face when he read the notes.

They were all signed anonymously and you disguised your handwriting just enough so that Eddie wouldn't notice it was you. To be honest you were trying to build up the courage to confess to him.

Cautiously you look around and there is a rare occurrence where the hallway is pretty much empty so you quickly rush over to Eddie's locker and slip the note in.

Heart hammering you hurry away from the locker and feel nerves swirl in your stomach. This note was different, a lot more detailed and lovey dovey than the others, you couldn't help it. You were head over heels for Eddie and even though the notes were anonymous, it felt cathartic to say how you felt.

When Eddie finds the latest note at lunch time, the whole of Hellfire is gently teasing him. His cheeks are pink but his eyes are full of excitement, and an anxiousness to know who they are from.

"Who's going to send this doofus love notes though really?" Gareth jokes and ducks to miss the pretzel thrown at his head while laughing his head off.

Then Eddie perks up, smiles dreamily and sighs. "Hey maybe they are from Chrissy?" He looks so hopeful and the words immediately crush any thoughts that you had in which he might feel the same.

Chrissy. He wanted it to be Chrissy, of course he did. She was the sweetest and prettiest girl in Hawkins High, there was no way that Eddie was immune to her charms.

It hurt you though. All this time he talked about not conforming and yet he falls for the beauty queen. Not that you could be too mad at him, it's not like anyone could help who they fell for. You wish you could have that power, to erase these feelings you have for Eddie.

The thoughts still make you feel faintly nauseated and you get up suddenly, "Sorry guys, uh headache'' it's all you can do not to run out of the cafeteria while blinking away tears.

Thank god no one saw you crying. Then you'd really have no way to explain yourself.

That night you're laying in bed and listening to the most angsty music you can find, your thoughts racing about what happened today and stomach churning at what it meant.

You knew deep down that Eddie might not feel the same and at least that was confirmed. It was time to stop indulging in dumb fantasies, it felt like the small bit of hope you had clung onto had faded and now you had given up. Eddie was never going to see you as anything more than a friend.

Maybe it was the push you needed to move on? Or at least distance yourself a tiny bit until these feelings faded.

But how long would that take? The thought of not seeing Eddie every day is awful, you don't know what to do and the worry and despair keeps you up all night.

By the morning you feel numb but full of acceptance at what you need to do.

💌

Distancing yourself from Eddie was hard. He was so ingrained in your usual routines, you were so used to seeing him practically every day that there was this ache in your chest that he wasn't around.

It didn't help that Eddie looked at you like a lost puppy and it shook your resolve every time. You missed the guys at Hellfire too, instead of your usual spot at the table you talked to Robin or Nancy, aware of eyes on you when you didn't sit down beside Eddie.

It was a catch-22, you desperately wanted these feelings to go away so things were back to normal but you missed Eddie like crazy, it felt like a piece of you was missing.

When you saw him in the corridor today, you froze and went in the other direction but you didn't miss the look on his face when you did. It was so hurt and it crushed your heart even more.

You couldn't leave things like this, you would have to say something. Eddie must be so confused and you didn't want to hurt him. But how could you explain how you felt about him, that you're the one who sent the notes?

What if finding out how you felt ruined your friendship? What if what you were doing was ending it, honestly your mind was racing a mile a minute.

Shit you haven't sent any notes in over a week, you didn't want Eddie to get his hopes up wishing it was Chrissy only to be disappointed that it was you.

Obviously you and Eddie really need to talk. Eddie must be thinking the same thing because he shows up at your house around an hour later with a determined look in his eyes.

He's angry and you can't blame him. If the situation was reversed you would feel the same. His furious gaze softens as he takes in your tears.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" His tone is gentler than you'd expect and that makes you feel worse. God you've missed him, you've really missed him.

"I'm sorry" you murmured and made your decision to tell Eddie about the notes, hoping that he wouldn't hate you. "Eddie, I-" he speaks before you can get the words out.

"I know it's you sending the notes" oh...oh shit. You're nervous so that makes you babble and grow even more flustered because you don't know how Eddie would react.

"How?" is the last question you ask and he smiles, all dimples. The smile that you love.

"When you started avoiding me after I said I hoped the notes were from Chrissy, the look on your face...I'm not stupid sweetheart, it became pretty obvious" so much for thinking that you had covered up your feelings, you should have realised eddie would figure it out.

He could be annoyingly perceptive. "I know you don't feel the same Eddie, you're panicking now so you're basically word vomiting, "I've been trying to get over these feelings so that's why I've been distant, I'm sorry"

He frowns, "Sweetheart, I don't want you to avoid me" you bite your lip, emotions rushing to the surface. Frustrated you wipe the tears that are building in your eyes.

"I don't know what else to do Eddie! You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on, I'm trying to do that so I don't mess up our friendship" you choke on the words and try to stop the tears that are blurring your eyes. he stares at you looking absolutely stunned.

"You love me?" his voice is so small and you swear there's a hopeful edge to it but you must just be imagining it.

"Yeah, I'm the one who's been sending the notes, but you wanted it to be Chrissy and like I said you don't love me like I love you so I need to move on" Eddie groan exasperated and runs his hand through his hair in frustration. It tugs on his unruly curls and he groans, once his hand is free, he's gesturing widely.

"Well how do you know that? You've never given me the chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realise you were the one sending the notes" he snaps and you're seriously frustrated.

"Because you wanted it to be Chrissy! And give you a chance to love me? You either love me or you don't Eddie. I can't just sit around on the off chance that you might feel the same way when you obviously don't"

Tears roll down your cheeks and you wipe them away shakily, you're emotionally spent and you just want to have some time for yourself.

Eddie softens and his hands are on your shoulder, soothing and tender. "You're not listening, I want a chance to love you because I am in love with you"

Oh... "You do, you reply hopeful and he nods, keeping his gaze on you. What about Chrissy?" he shakes his head and his hand moves up to caress your cheek, his gaze is soft and full of adoration.

"Just a dumb crush. I'm over her now. What I feel for you...you're all I think about sweetheart, shit I think almost losing you helped give me a uh, knock on the head" you giggle and he ducks his head looking almost shy.

"Can I kiss you?" you nod eagerly and it doesn't take long for his lips to meet yours. Eddie pulls away after a few seconds and looks completely blissed out. It's exactly how you feel. Wow.

"Shit, I am an idiot, could have been doing that for a while now if I wasn't so oblivious" you stifle a smile and he's grinning too, smiling as he kisses you again.

And again. Showing you how much he loves you.

💞💌

[batboyblog]

https://www.tumblr.com/batboyblog/767861339473510400/see-i-kind-of-get-the-idea-of-wanting-her-to-at

And frankly, if regular people had done THEIR job of voting in a Harris presidency (especially the more "informed" non-voters or anti-voters who prioritized their own ego), then McBride wouldn't have to make these kinds of difficult choices (at least to the same degree, since I don't doubt transphobes would still do their bullshit) in the first place.

yes.

Nancy Mace who's leading this charge just cares about being on TV, literally thats it. Back in 2021 she was selling herself as pro-LGBT, even saying she was in favor of "transgender equality" now she's screaming about trans women being really men. Why? well in 2021 it looked like there was space for Republicans to move on from Queer bashing and she wanted to get interviewed and be on TV for being part of a new breed of Republican. After this election many people agree transphobia was a useful wedge issue for Trump so she's gonna be the most transphobic of them all, again just to get on TV. So yes, if Kamala Harris had won Nancy Mace wouldn't be doing this because this is only motivated by her wanting to be on TV.

In a bigger sense, if Democrats had won the House this wouldn't be happening, Republicans might rage and stamp their feet about it, but a Democratic Speaker would tell them to kick rocks.

So yeah past McBride herself, the 2024 election was a test, "is transphobia a workable electoral issue" and the answer was "yes, yes it is" so transphobia is gonna be worse, it told Republicans that being transphobic and running on bullying trans people works so they're gonna do more of it, and for Democrats it showed there were few if any electoral rewards for sticking up for trans people. I remember when Harris very first became the candidate there were a series of huge organizing calls, so big they broke Zoom a few times, Women for Harris, black women, black men, white dudes for Harris, etc and I kept thinking "geez there really should be a trans people for Harris" there was a generalized LGBT one which had big names but if there ever was a trans one it was not well marketed. Point being the election did not see a big trans mobilization, which is very bad, you're seeing a few Democrats break ranks and ask "if we get hammered on this issue, and lose elections, and don't see any mobilization or support, should we moderate?" If Harris had won the narrative would be "voters don't care about trans issues, its a loser to run on transphobia" but she didn't so we're in this darker timeline

And being in this darker timeline a good starting point to clawing your way back is to have the ONE! trans member of Congress, the ONLY national trans figure's back at all times. Because beaming the message that even a trans Congresswoman doesn't have the support of the trans community will tell every jumpy Democrat that they're right to be thinking about ditching trans rights.

[aurumacadicus]

Listen, Steve is grateful he gets to work at a Stark-funded hospital. He is. Not only is the prestige of working there even for a year going to carry him through his entire career, but if he stays for five years, the Maria Stark Foundation will pay off all of his student loans. Their clientele are people typically in poverty and he loves that he can help the less fortunate. It's all he ever wanted to do after watching his single mother scrimp and save as a nurse just to make sure they had a roof over their heads. He would never do anything to jeopardize his position or the reputation of the hospital.

"That custodian is going to be the reason you're fired," Natasha declares, and both Clint and Bucky spin from their nursing charts just in time to watch Steve almost fall over as he attempts to get one more glimpse of Tony's ass as he pushes his cart, whistling, toward the elevator. "Is this your way of getting out of the gala? Getting shit-canned the day before?"

"Are you going to tattle on me to Dr. Potts?" Steve asks her bluntly.

Natasha says nothing for several minutes, mulling the idea over in her head. Finally, though, she mutters, "I guess you're better than Hammer. He actually put his hands on Tony."

Steve doesn't know how to respond, because he'd only gotten his position after Dr. Hammer had groped Tony one too many times (apparently Tony had never reported it? It had actually been one of the nurses) and got fired for it. Again, he's grateful for the position, but he knows other doctors would shank him for the opportunity. He's just looking, but maybe he shouldn't look? Tony isn't a piece of meat. He's a respected member of the hospital staff.

Tony stops and bends over to pick up a piece of garbage on the floor, and even Natasha whimpers as his pants lovingly cup each of his cheeks.

Luckily, they're saved by one of the PR interns coming out of a hospital room and chirping, "Are you going to the gala tomorrow, Mr. Tony?"

"Peter how many times do I have to tell you," Tony begins, sighing, then shakes his head. "Yes, my mother is finally forcing me to show up for the gala."

Steve does a minute fist pump, and Bucky immediately drags him into a noogie that makes him squawk about his hair in probably the most unattractive manner possible.

--

"Gala" is probably too fancy a term for it. Unlike the Foundation galas, where the Stark family squeezes donations from the other wealthy elite for all they muster, this is more of a get-together between other hospitals to compare notes. Women are in cocktail dresses and the men are a healthy mix of suits and slacks-and-polos. The only people really decked out in formal wear are those with the foundation.

Steve is trying to be very casual as he keeps an eye out for Tony. He hasn't seen him yet, but he's hoping to ask Tony for at least one dance. Dr. Potts had said Tony liked to dance when he'd been talking with her and Natasha at the start of the gala. (She'd made really deliberate eye contact with him when she'd said so, too, so Steve figures she at least approves of him??? Even if she also kind of scares him.)

"Oh my God," Bruce whispers, wine dripping down his chin. He's gone ashen.

Steve and Thor turn to see what he's looking at, and Steve immediately understands. He feels as if he's just been simultaneously punched in the gut and head.

Because Mrs. Stark has finally arrived at her gala, dressed to the nines and yet somehow making everyone feel at ease in their own clothes. She's being escorted by a handsome man in a tuxedo.

The man looks a lot like Tony from the custodial department. But Mrs. Stark keeps loudly and proudly announcing that he's her son.

"I'm so fired," Steve whispers, voice cracking, as Bucky finally steps up beside him and claps him on the shoulder.

[thewertsearch]

Something I'm really enjoying about this Scratch interlude is the tick-tock rhythm suggested by his phrases. The way his sentences alternate between command and narration lend them a weight that you don't usually see in a text-based medium.

Also, John's Vriska Hammer is an interesting upgrade. I always assumed the Zillyhoo, which is presumably on the same tier as Ahab's Crosshairs, was the strongest weapon of its kind, so it's strange that an upgrade is even possible.

Maybe the Vrammer has the same damage as the Zillyhoo, but can also activate a Fluorite Octet effect on command.

I'm reasonably convinced of this much. When the Hero of Breath dies for good, it won't be as a scoundrel.

John's ultimate fate is a dark pocket - which, according to my theory, means that Hussie simply hasn't conceived of how he'll die.

That makes sense to me. John's the closest thing to a protagonist we have, so if he does die, it'll probably happen near the end of the comic.

And there she goes, full of vim and vigor.

Let's have it, then. How long is this Light Player going to last against Jack?

He literally doesn't give a fuck LOL

I'm sure Vriska's happy no one saw her getting disrespected like this - or at least, no one but Scratch.

According to him, this version of Jack is angrier than before, but he's no longer 'motivated' to fight. I don't know what's up with that, but it might have something to do with the other mystery surrounding this incarnation of him - namely, his bloody arm.

[cherryredstars]

First off, I love you.

Second off, I love you A LOT.

Okay so I’m losing my mind over a brain vomit where younger reader’s been harboring and hiding feelings for Miguel for the sake of being appropriate and it’s starting to make her frustrated like “fuck I’m gonna get actually fucking sick and vomit” because how much she’s crushing on him is CRAZY, so reader basically goes up to Miguel like “I can’t take this anymore.” Like reject me so I can move on type of thing. “ Do me a favor, and break my nose or something. Tell me to fucking go away” or something like that. My brain is burning.

Pairing(s): Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader, John Price x civil!reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: For my baby, I LOVE YOUUUUUUU!!!

Edited (just for you boo)

| Miguel O'Hara

If you look at him, you will actually throw up.

Like projectile 'make yourself a laughing stock' throw up. It's just the way your body- your stomach- reacts when you see him. It gets twisted, fluttery with a fix of butterflies and disgust. It's down right disgusting, inappropriate at the least. He's almost a decade older than you, yet here you are pining after him as if you're some teenage girl. You feel physically sick when you think about it for too long: throat contracting and your stomach hurting. You aren't sure which of your delusions are the cause of such a horrendous crush, but you promise you'll strangle it when you find out. There is simply no way this could have ever worked out in your favor. It's simply impossible.

Miguel O'Hara would never go for someone like you. Young and naive, haven't even reached the appropriate age to have a mid-life crisis (but you're sure this is the closest fucking thing to it). You know this, hammer it into your thick skull every day before you have to face him. Yet, it all comes crumbling down when you lay eyes on him. It takes less than a second for you to skip after him, a stupid, lovesick look flickering across your face as you help him with whatever he needs. You simply can't stay away, even if you tried. You always fall back into his orbit, gravity pushing you towards him until you're practically glued to him.

You're sure he must find it annoying. Probably relates it to something like babysitting. It's well known Miguel doesn't like to be bothered when he's working. But there you are without fail, sitting around on his platform entertaining yourself by playing with LYLA when you aren't out saving universes. You don't miss the way his eyes flick to you every now and then with some emotion you can't quite place. But if you had to guess, it's probably something close to exasperation.

In all honesty, you're tired of it.

Tired of the false hope you delude yourself into believing after every minor interaction. Tired of trying to justify your affection for the older man. Tired of feeling a bit of resentment towards yourself. You're just... tired. He must sense it when you walk onto the platform, judging by the look he shoots you.

LYLA is muted mid-sentence as he angles his body slightly away from his monitors and towards you, watching as you plop yourself in your usual spot. He waits expectantly for your usual greeting, brows furrowing with confusion when you do nothing but play with the elastic quality of your suit. You haven't even looked at him since you got in.

"Everything alright?" His all so familiar voice asks, making your stomach ache and the urge to punch yourself stronger.

"Yeah," you respond simply, silence lapping over the two of you.

Miguel waits patiently, expecting something more. But, you don't continue. Miguel hesitates for a moment before turning back around. His eyes study the screens once more, his finger hovering over the button to unmute LYLA before you speak up again.

"Can you like... degrade me or something?"

Miguel almost chokes on his spit when he turns around, not expecting you to say...that. You're still playing with your suit and staring at the floor, face painted with frustration. You look up when he doesn't answer, brows furrowed when your eyes meet his shocked face. You quickly divert your attention to his muscular shoulder, not really having the courage to face him head-on.

"Not like the... sexy kind. More like the heart wrenching kind." You clarify, not that it's any better for Miguel.

He turns to full face you this time, arms crossed over his chest as he studies you. The request doesn't really make sense to him. Why would you want him to do that? Is it some universe-exclusive culture he isn't aware of?

"Why?" Miguel asks, trying to recall your past interactions to see if they have something to do with your strange request.

"I dunno, just thought it might make it easier?" You shrug, your eyes flicking to his again and then looking towards the ceiling.

"Make what easier, exactly?"

Miguel isn't a fan of cryptic answers, but he tries to be patient with you. He watches as your face twists, unsure how to word what you're feeling. You let out a heavy sigh eventually, actually meeting his eyes and holding his gaze for once.

"To get over you."

The words cause Miguel to freeze, his body going rigid. You groan, hiding your embarrassed face in your hands and scrubbing ferociously. This is absolutely embarrassing. You wished a random portal would just appear under you, throwing you into another universe and far away from this particular moment in time.

You're so caught up in your embarrassment that you don't realize Miguel is walking over to you until he's crouched down in front of you. He pries your hands gently from your face, giving you the softest smile you have ever seen on him. His thumbs caress your wrists absentmindedly, doing nothing to calm your raging heart. It practically explodes when he leans closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes are wide and dazed as you look up at him, trying to commit the curve of his mouth to memory.

"Now, why would I want you to do that?"

_____________

| John Price

You aren't exactly sure when it started.

But the moment you realized you liked John, you've started hating yourself. It feels wrong. Almost disrespectful in a way. You aren't particularly sure why, it just does. John Price is a nice man, a good man. A man that could be easily mistaken as your father if someone didn't look close enough. The man you had happened to meet and befriended one day after he had been so kind and gentle with you.

Not the man you should be liking and forcing your feelings on.

You're someone John goes to for comfort, someone he seeks out after coming home from a battlefield. Someone that's supposed to help him distress. The idea of taking advantage of that gently placed trust, of expecting something from John just because he goes to you for help, makes you want to throw up until you're nothing but a useless husk. It's shameful, eating you up on the inside until you feel like your organs are on the verge of failure.

So your solution: Avoid Johnathan Price like the plague.

Does it hurt seeing his texts flash across your phone screen, asking you if you're free throughout the week so he can spend time with you before he deploys again? Hell fucking yes. It makes you feel guilty as hell. But you try to justify it to yourself, reassuring that it's only temporary. That everything will go back to normal once these stupid feelings leave you alone and John Price goes back to being the sweet man you grab lunch with every now and then when he's home so you can catch up.

But of course, your plans never go accordingly.

You startle on your couch when there is a firm knocking on your door, your hands rushing to pause the telly to see if it was just a hallucination. But sure enough, that same steady knocking sounds again. You get up hesitantly, brows furrowed as you try to remember if you ordered take away or something. You peak through the peep-hole, hand planted on the cool wood of the door as you squint.

The alertness in your body dies away when the familiar frame of John greets you, only to tense up again. John Price is at your door. The same John price you've been avoiding for a week. The same exact John fucking Price you're practically in love with. Your hand slides down to the knob, gulping nervously as you unlock it and yank your door open.

John is standing there with his hand raised again to knock, decked out in his military gear. His hands drop to grip the strap of his vest, his mutton chops quivering as his face lifts into his soft smile. You blink up at him, feeling the knob warm under your hand and your heart slamming against your chest. Why did he have to be so handsome, goddamnit?

You step out of the doorway, silently inviting him inside. He accepts it, stepping in and examining the area out of habit. You close the door quietly after him, turning to face him as he turns to face you.

"Missed ya, love? Been busy lately?" He asks in that comfortingly rough voice of his.

You don't trust yourself to not choke on your words, scared he'll see through your lies. Instead you nod, letting out a weak hum that he returns in a more confident note. Your eyes drop down to his military gear, a frown slipping onto your face. Is he being deployed again?

As if sensing the underlying question, John's hands let go of his military vest and he stuffs them into the pockets of his tactical pants.

"Heading out tonight, just wanted to say goodbye before I go since I didn't get to see you this time around."

You feel a stab to your chest at his words, resisting the urge to lift your hand and smooth the pain.

"John..." You start hesitantly, your mouth going dry when he hums again. "Can you tell me you hate me? Or... or that you think I'm stupid or something?"

John tilts his head in confusion, brows furrowing as his lips thin. There is a silent question in your eyes, an aura of demand wafting from him that orders you to explain further. Your hand comes to rub your arm, socked heel digging into your ankle as you debate how much to tell him.

"It's just... I like you and I don't..." You sigh in frustration, turning your head away to glare at the wall. "I don't want you to think I'm trying to take advantage of how nice you've been to me or that I expect you to reciprocate how I feel."

It's quiet for a moment before John's chuckling fills the room. Your head turns away from the wall, meeting the sparkling amusement in John's eyes as he looks at you. There is a fondness there that makes your knees feel weak, your breath getting trapped in your lungs. John takes steady, reassured steps towards you, stopping when he's centimeters away. Your heart is practically lurching in your chest as you look up at him, watching as he slowly takes off his boonie hat.

Your eyes are wide as he places it over your head, chuckling when it slips down over your face before he readjusts it. He admires the sight for a second before he leans down, his facial hair tickling your cheeks as his lips press against the corner of your mouth. Your heart officially stops, your body dangerously close to swaying as he pulls away. You're in a daze as he pinches your cheek lightly, trying to call your attention away from the sparks lingering across your skin.

"We'll take about this when I get back, silly girl." He rumbles, his heavy paw landing on the top of his hat before he slips past you, closing and locking the door behind him as he disappears out of your flat. You're left in a daze as your shaky hands reach up and grasp the rim of his hat, the smell of him instantly invading your senses.

And when John reaches base and the lads pester him about where his usual hat is, he just shakes his head and replies that he left it at home for safe keeping.

[nadvs]

so sorry for sending so many requests but this just popped into my head. in the swte universe, in their college days, i feel like the reader isn't a huge fan of drinking or she doesn't get as pissed as rafe at least. so what if she gets completely drunk one night, being clingy to rafe, maybe people flirt with her because she's without rafe and he comes to "rescue her"? idk just sth like that🤍🤍🤍🤍

never be sorry, ily and your ideas are always so good 🥹 YES omg rafe has no impulse control so he gets hammered on the reg, whereas she’s not one to get too crazy… most of the time 🤭

i’m a sucker for angst so i just had to make it when they’re fwb and he’s already fallen for her while she still just assumes they’re just friends (and this is the night she starts to think of him as something more) 👀

based on this fic

» au masterlist

she cannot pay attention to the guy talking to her. she’s too dazed. she hasn’t eaten much today. she’s running on only a few hours of sleep. and the coolers she drank were so sugary that she didn’t even realize how much alcohol she was consuming. this is the drunkest she’s been in ages.

this guy’s hitting on her. she can tell by the way his eyes trail down her body every so often, his head tilted as he rambles on about something. what was his name again?

she nods along, trying to follow his words while loud music surrounds them. she doesn’t even remember how they started talking.

rafe moved in to this house with his teammates just last weekend and tonight, they’re hosting their first party. the front room is crowded and stuffy and she’s getting dangerously close to feeling sick.

she’d rather hang out with rafe right now. but when she arrived, he pulled her in a friendly hug and pointed her to the drinks, then continued talking to the girl he was already in conversation with.

he’s probably trying to hook up with her and she doesn’t want to be a shitty friend, cockblocking him simply because she’s craving some familiarity.

“…too much work, you know what i mean?” the guy says.

“yeah,” she says, no idea what she just agreed to. she looks around. “did you see any water around here?”

“we can try the kitchen?” he offers.

rafe spots her crossing through the crowd. the guy who she’s been talking to, so obviously into her that he’s embarrassing himself, is following her. she doesn’t seem all that happy that he’s trailing her.

he’s been talking to this girl to try to get out of the fog that sank over him not that long ago. while he was getting ready tonight, all he could think about was the girl who’s supposed to just be his best friend.

she’s always on his mind. when he wakes up. when he goes to bed. during classes. during practice. it’s so bad that even when he’s with her, he’s dreading her leaving.

rafe turns his attention back to the girl talking his ear off. he needs to distract himself. he’s starting to see his best friend as more than a friend, has been for a while now, and it’s fucking agony. she could not be clearer about not wanting a relationship.

and he doesn’t want one, either. he needs to remind himself of that.

but as they round the corner into the kitchen, he sees the guy’s hand rest on the small of her back. it makes rafe’s blood boil.

she opens the fridge. it’s practically empty.

“this has to be a joke,” she mumbles, dizzy at this point.

she swings the door shut and looks up at the guy who’s been following her. at this point, she just wants to get rid of him and find rafe. she can apologize for cockblocking him later.

thankfully, she doesn’t have to. rafe pays no mind to the guy clearly trying to get in her pants, putting himself between them. he ducks, lowering so he can speak in her ear.

“you alright?” rafe asks.

“a house full of athletes and you don’t have any water?” she slurs.

rafe smirks when her hand drags over his. it’s so damn nice when she touches him, especially when it’s subconscious like this. he pulls back just enough to meet her eyes.

then, he turns to the guy who should be able to tell he’s a third wheel at this point.

“we’re good,” rafe says, cocking his head in a way to dismiss him.

irritation flashes over his face. but he’s not moving.

“can you not take a hint?” rafe snips. “she’s not interested.”

rafe isn’t sure if that last part is true, but he hopes it is. it works. he sighs and steps away, pissed off but likely not about to start a fight with the guy known for his aggression.

he turns his attention back to her. he’s revelling in the fact that her hand is still cupping his. her palm is so nice and soft and it’s making his chest go warm.

“how much did you drink?” he asks, the amused smile on his face returning.

“too much,” she admits.

rafe leans over, opening a cupboard to grab a plastic water bottle, then grips her hand tighter.

“come on,” he says. he leads her upstairs to his bedroom, away from the noise and stuffiness of the crowd.

once he shuts the door behind them, the chaos from downstairs muffled, she already feels less overwhelmed.

she’s been in here once before. they hooked up in this bed a few nights ago. she can still remember the way his mouth felt on her neck.

rafe leads her to his bed, sitting her on the edge while he kneels on the floor in front of her, and she’s overwhelmed all over again because of the way he’s looking at her, concern etched into his features.

she’s too drunk. she’s not thinking straight, because not only is she dizzy as hell, but as her eyes sweep over his face, all she can think about is how handsome he is, how good of a kisser he is, how nice it’d be to spend the rest of the night in his arms, like they’re a couple instead of just two people who hook up sometimes.

he twists the cap off the bottle for her. she takes long, slow sips. rafe settles on the bed beside her, watching her.

she lets out a slow breath once she’s drank enough. when she looks at him, she exhales a chuckle.

“why do you look so worried?” she says. “i’m not gonna die.”

rafe catches himself and glances away. this effect she has on him is insane. he’s never cared this much about anybody.

“just didn’t know you were this bad at holding your alcohol,” he says.

“i hate you,” she laughs. “but thanks for saving me.”

“saving you?”

“that guy would not shut up.” rafe hates how happy he is that she didn’t actually like him.

“about what?”

“i couldn’t tell you a single thing he said to me,” she confesses. he chuckles. “i was just thinking that i’m drunk as hell and want to hang out with you.”

that last part slipped out. she takes another sip of water just to have something to do. she expects him to give her shit for her soppy words. but he doesn’t.

“why didn’t you?” he asks.

“didn’t wanna cockblock. that girl you were talking to is pretty.”

she hopes in her drunkenness, she doesn’t sound jealous. because she realizes maybe, deep down, she is.

how could she not be? rafe turned out to be so much more than she expected. what she thought would be a one-time hook-up led her to her best friend. her best friend who happens to be hot and fun and unlike anyone she knows.

“she wouldn’t shut up, either,” rafe says. she laughs, sinking back across his bed.

“are we both just bad listeners?” she asks.

“i’m not.”

“right. you’re never the problem.”

he looks down at her. his cheeks are starting to ache from smiling.

“we should set them up,” she says, her eyelids heavy, legs hanging off the side of his bed. “they’d never run out of things to talk about.”

rafe thinks about how the same could be said for the two of them. conversations always come so easy.

she shuts her eyes and all he can think about is how cute she is. fuck, this is hard.

“what if i napped right now?” she mumbles. “would you be offended as the host of this party?”

“yeah,” he answers simply, because he’s quite honestly at a loss for words right now.

“okay, i’m gonna offend you then,” she says softly. “sorry.”

he nudges her knee.

“don’t sleep like that,” he says. “come on.”

she shifts to lie down on her side, smelling him on his pillow, feeling him put a cover over her. he’s treating her with such tender care that if she wasn’t so drunk, she’d be teasing him, asking who the hell he’s pretending to be, acting all sweet.

but she’s soaking in the feeling because it’s nice to pretend like this is more. she hopes it’s just the alcohol swimming through her that’s making her think this way.

she nuzzles into his pillow. rafe doesn’t say another word. he shuts off the lights and leaves. throughout the night, he comes back up every so often to check on her.

eventually, she wakes up and comes downstairs, feeling more coherent. the music is just worsening the headache she woke up with and she’s desperate to just get home already. she steps outside and books a ride on her phone.

rafe’s phone buzzes in his pocket. it’s a text from her.

thanks for taking care of me. i ordered a ride home and made your bed so i think we’re even

his heart sinks over the fact that she’s already gone.

he replies: we are not even

she texts back: i’m okay with not agreeing on this. goodnight :)

rafe stares at his screen with a small smile on his face, somewhere between happy and sad, before texting back: goodnight.

[ninii-winchester]

Dusk till Dawn

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.7k

Warnings : angst, violence demon dean, language, illusions to sex (nothing explicit)

Part 2 to I don’t wanna live forever

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

But you'll never be alone

I'll be with you from dusk till dawn

Baby, I'm right here

Sam had finally managed to track down Dean and has brought him back to the Bunker. Y/n wasn't scared of him but she wasn't excited to see him again in his demon form either. Sam had Dean cuffed inside the dungeon and she could hear him scream every time Sam injected him with human blood.

She knew she'd have to face him sooner or later, so two hours later, she decided that she'd go see him. She entered the dungeon and she watched as Dean thrashed around in the chair he was tied to, he spewed hurtful words at Sam and the latter retorted by telling him this isn't his brother speaking.

Dean eyes landed on Y/n as she walked inside, her arm still in a cast. He turned his eyes black before turning them back to normal. He threw her a smirk and she visibly tensed. She knew he was tied and Sam was in the room as well but she couldn't help but shrink under his gaze.

"How's the arm?" He mocked.

"I'll live." She replied curtly. He laughed evilly before speaking again.

"Hm I wonder why Crowley saved you, were you fucking him? I mean you do look like a skank.." She felt herself tear up at his harsh comment, this isn't my Dean she kept repeating to herself. "I mean I wouldn't put it past you-"

"Dean shut up." Sam intervened.

"What you fucking her too?" Dean cackled. "Cmon Sammy you can do bette- argh" Dean growled loudly as Sam interrupted him by giving him another shot. He groaned breathing heavily.

Y/n felt her heart thudding inside her chest, she wondered if part of Dean actually thought all those things, how long can she hold on and believe that this is the demon talking. Sam noticed the apprehension on her face and pulled her outside.

"Hey..you can't let him get to you, that's not Dean." Sam said holding her good arm. "He's trying to rile you up, don't fall for it."

"Yeah..!" She nodded her head, seemingly out of it. "Yeah I know Sam." She snapped herself back.

Four hours later Y/n was in the kitchen when she heard it, Dean's voice. But it wasn't him groaning or screaming, it wasn't coming from the dungeon either. It was closer. She ducked and ran out of the kitchen hoping to find Sam before Dean finds either of them.

Dean continued to call out for Sam, asking him to come out and talk with his big brother, his voice was scaring the wits out of her and she hoped she doesn't run into him. But just because she's so lucky she rounded a corner and saw him. Dean stood right in front on her with a hammer in his hand.

"Well hello there, sweetheart." Dean smirked. She backed away and he took a step forward. Suddenly the power in the bunker went out and the emergency lights were turned on. "That's smart little brother, locking the place down." Dean yelled. "But you see I don't want to leave." Well at least now she knows where's Sam. But the control room is a bit too far from where they were and she's on her own here. "You're gonna have to wait for me, Sammy. I gotta finish what I couldn't last time."

Y/n knew there's no point running, so she did what she thought was the best. She moved towards him. Dean glared at her before grabbing her hair and slamming her in the wall. A smirk plastered on her face. "You can go ahead and kill me, but just so you know, Sam's gonna cure you. He won't stop until he does." She prayed that Sam finds them soom or it's gonna get ugly pretty fast.

"I can see right through your brave girl act." Dean sneered. "This is gonna be so much fun." Dean grabbed her injured arm and pressed hard making her scream.

Dean let her go and held the hammer with both his hands, he raised it above his head and Y/n braced herself for the impact but it never came. Sam had tackled Dean to the ground, the hammer falling from his hands. Dean struggled in Sam's hold. "Let me go." He growled slamming Sam into the ground. Thankfully Castiel appeared and caught hold of Dean.

The two men hauled him back to the dungeon and Sam completed the ritual. Dean was finally back. Sam threw holy water on his face and the lack of sizzling flesh brought relief to Sam and Cas' face. "Welcome back, Dean." Sam said with smile. Dean's face flashed an array of expressions, but he was happy to be back.

While Sam helped Dean get back to his room, Cas found Y/n in the same hallway they had left her in.

"Cas?" She groaned holding her arm, slumped against the wall. Castiel kneeled in front of her, he placed his hand on her arm and eradicated the pain. "Cas, Dean-"

"He's not a demon anymore." Castiel informed and she sighed in relief. He nodded and helped her up. The two of them went to the library. Sam was hyper excited that his brother was back and he told them he's going to bring his brother lots of cheeseburgers now that's he's hungry again. Y/n's smiled dropped when Cas mentioned the elephant in the room, that Dean still has the mark.

"One thing at a time Cas." She replied before leaving the library.

Cause I wanna touch you, baby

And I wanna feel you too

I wanna see the sun rise on your sins

Just me and you

To think everything would go back to normal after Dean was cured was wishful thinking on Y/n's part. She hasn't seen him ever since he turned back. He's been avoiding her. She knows he feels guilty and is beating himself up for whatever happened but she needs him to know that she forgave him because it wasn't him.

Y/n was in the kitchen, her hand wrapped around a steaming cup coffee. She was lost in thought but she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen. Dean entered the kitchen, stopping mid way as he noticed her figure and turned back to leave. But her voice stopped him.

"How long are you planning to continue this?" She asked, her voice filled with hurt. He didn't turn back or answer her question. She has had enough of him ignoring, she moved to grab his hand and turn him towards her. "Talk to me, please." A tear dropped down her cheek as she looked at his face while he looked at the ground avoiding eye contact.

Dean gently shrugged her hand off his arm, he wanted to reach out and wipe that tear off her face but he was scared to touch her, afraid to hurt her or worse break her. He has already done enough and he'd be damned if he does it again. She lifted his chin with her fingers to make him look at her and he relished in her touch. Her face was healed but a few scratches were visible and he felt nauseous knowing he did that.

"I hurt you." Dean spoke for the first time. She shook her head.

"It wasn't you."

"It was me, those were my hands on you, I hurt you physically and emotionally. I said those vile words to you, about you. It was me. But none of it was true, you’re not- " He couldn’t continue further. A few tears escaped his eyes.

"I forgive you, Dean. I love you." She said cupping his cheek and wiping his tears.

"You shouldn't." He whispered.

"The only time you’re allowed to tell me what to do is, in bed." She teased hoping he'd loosen up a bit but he didn't. His gaze lingered on the cast on her arm. "Dean look at me." She said with authority and smiled when he obeyed. "Can you answer some questions for me?" He nodded. "Do you blame Sam for what happened to Kevin?" She asked softly.

"No. It was Gadreel. Not Sam." Dean replied in an instant.

"Exactly. If you don't blame Sam for Kevin, why can't you stop blaming yourself."

"That's different." He shook his head.

"Do you love me, Dean?" Dean looked offended she'd even asked but he replied without a beat.

"With everything I have. I love you so much."

"Can you forgive yourself for me, then?" Dean stayed silent "please, baby."

"I don't wanna hurt you again." He confessed.

"You won't. I know you're only capable of loving me unless you're being controlled by some stupid curse. And I know you tried to fight it."

"I did." He placed his hands on her waist and she sighed in relief hugging him as tightly as she could with one arm. "I really did."

Light it up, on the run

Let's make love tonight

Make it up, fall in love, try

She pressed her lips to his and he kissed back ever so softly. His lips moved against her with fervour. He wanted to breath her in, imprint her on his mind. He snaked his hand around her waist and picked her up. And she wrapped her legs around him, not wanting to break the kiss. She needed him as much as he needed her. He pressed kisses to her face and jaw, he sat her on the table and stood between her legs.

"I'm sorry." He dropped feather light kisses to her neck. "I'm so sorry." He held onto her tightly as if she'd disappear if he let go.

"I'm right here baby." She assured him. "I love you."

"I love you, sweetheart." Dean made love to her, with his soft and gentle touches, he made it up to her, his actions showed her how much he loved her, how sorry he was. As their breathing slowed, they held each other close, savouring the moment. In the silence that followed, they knew they were far from okay but they would be okay together.

Tags:

@s0urw00lf @spnfamily-j2 @deangirl96

[lovelytsunoda]

one of the boys // charles leclerc

summary: she's worked for ferrari for four years now. four years that only let her feelings for their number one driver grow stronger and stronger, until she wishes that charles leclerc would stop seeing her as just one of the boys, and start seeing her the way that she sees him

pairing: charles leclerc x mechanic! reader

warnings: ferrari fuckups, sexual tension, sad charles, actually charles goes through a whole range of emotions, matchmaker seb, mentions of workplace harassment, set in the 2022 season when charles won australia, sexual innuendos and references.

she sat on the halo, her feet resting against the seat as she leaned over the engine compartment, her boiler suit tied off around her waist and her hair pinned to the back of her head as the bahrain sun beat down.

ferrari had bottled it again. which meant double-duty for the pit crew to fix it for jeddah.

the radio hummed softly in the background as she cursed, losing her grip on the ratchet. when the engine fried itself, it had also made the parts a lot harder to take apart.

"fucking hell." she groaned, resting her head against the cool, red body of the car. "vasseur was supposed to fix this."

"what are you still doing here? you should have left at least an hour ago?"

the movement in the garage, as well as the voice breaking the almost-silence was enough to get her to look up, heart hammering against her ribcage.

the same annoyingly alert reaction that she'd had to his presence for the last two years.

"charles. what are you doing here?"

"hiding." the driver smiled sadly. the balaclava lines had faded fomr his face, but she could still see the sweat in his hair, the scent of the race mingling with his team-sponsored cologne. "you know how it is after a weekend like this."

"yeah, i do." she could feel the blush creeping onto her face, and she subtly pinched herself to try and make it go down. charles leclerc couldn't give her butterflies, it wasn't right. technically speaking, he was her superior.

but that didn't change how much she cared about him, how much she longed to feel the monegasque's lips against hers

"you should not be working. come out with the rest of us, we're getting drinks and commiserating. did i use that word right?"

it was hard for y/n not to smile at charles' attempt to learn the english language. he had a fantastic grip on the language, but when he tried to use larger words to sound cooler, it was usually followed up with uncertainty, all adding to what she liked to call his 'boston terrier energy'.

"yeah, you got that one right." she chuckled, dismounting the car, pain rocketing through the nerves in her feet as she hit the ground too hard. "that's a beauty of a car. such a shame that the scuderia doesn't know how to treat it properly."

standing next to charles, she was all too aware that she was wearing nothing but a sports bra on the top half of her body, and she wondered if she could pull her boiler suit back on without charles noticing.

charles snorted. "try driving that thing."

she patted him on the shoulder, a sad smile on her face. "give me ten minutes to go put some proper clothes on, and then we'll go out somewhere. drinks are on me, god knows you deserve it."

______

"seb, i don't know what to do!" y/n groaned, face against the tabeltop as the german man laughed.

sebastian vettel had been the closest thing she had to a father when she was on the road with the scuderia. in all fairness, the job with ferrari hadn't even been what she went to school for. she had picked engineering at college because it was what everybody else was doing, and she'd stumbled upon this job by accident with the promise of travel. when she was starting to regret everything, it had been sebastian who had convinced her to stay.

"ugh, this is so not funny!" she shouted, throwing her arms in the air and wincing as her knuckle banged against the shop window. they were in a quaint little café in fiji ahead of the australian grand prix, and y/n was in need of some serious advice.

but to get advice from seb, you needed to bribe him with coffee first. hence why they were in the rustic cafe, every bare surface covered in plants that sebastian had spent ages talking to the manager about.

sebastian vettel was a nerd. in a good way, of course.

"you're a lovely young woman, y/n. you have a nice figure."

"does hanna know you're out here complimenting younger women?" she joked, taking a sip from her strawberry lemonade.

sebastian laughed, shaking his head. "you need to let everybody else see that side of you, y/n. let your hair down, wear a nice pair of jeans for once instead of that boiler suit. let the world see the lovely girl that we all know is there."

"i'm going to miss you when you retire."

"i know, kiddo. listen, we're all going out after the race, to have drinks and whatever. go out with hanna, buy yourself a nice new dress on my credit card, and then come out for drinks with us. i guarantee that one look at you will whip charles into shape. you're a catch, y/n. i think that charles would be lucky to have someone like you in his life."

"i'm already a part of his life. as a work friend. and i'm accepted that i'm not likely to be anything more."

seb raised an eybrow. "doesn't sound like it."

in another bar, on another part of the small island of fiji, carlos and charles were having a very similar conversation.

"carlos, i can't make a move! technically, i'm higher ranking at ferrari than she is. there's a power imbalance, what if she feels like she can't say no? it's a harassment case waiting to happen!" charles whined, a pint glass clutched in his hands.

carlos shook his head, an annoyed sigh escaping the back of his throat. "you're an idiot, hermano. she's in love with you! you think you're the only person who sees her staring at you in the garage?

"forgive me if that's not something i want to be wrong about. i could be staking our careers on your little hunch."

groaning, carlos buried his head in his hands. getting through to his teammate was a hopeless and futile affair. once charles leclerc was set in his ways about something, there was no changing his mind.

"what about the party in australia? ask her to dance, buy her a drink? you're not getting any younger, charles. you need to get back out there and start dating again."

______

as f1 descended on albert park, the glitz and glamour taking over melbourne, y/n y/l/n and hanna vettel were standing in a small, glitzy boutique, armed with hanna's husband's credit card. the young ferrari mechanic was standing in front of a floor-length mirror, her hair falling around her shoulders.

"hanna, i don't know how i feel about this." she inhaled, staring at her reflection and the ferrari red dress that hugged her figure. "i love it, honestly, i do, i just cringe at the thought of ever wearing it outside of the house. especially if i;m in front of charles!"

hanns sighed, brushing her fingers through the younger girl's hair. "have a little bit of faith in yourself, darling. you look stunning, this dress shows off all your best physical attributes, and charles already knows your best qualities."

"yeah, because who else is going to sing nineties stoner rock songs in the car on the way to the track with me?" y/n laughed, remembering singing ‘teenage dirtbag’ with charles on their way to the track in jeddah, a carpool with some of the other mechanics. charles barely knew the words, but then again, y/n got them wrong a lot as well. “yeah, okay. lets do this fucking thing.”

hanna grinned. “that’s our girl!”

hours later, she was regretting her decision, standing in front of the club in her baggy leather jacket, shaky knees knocking together as she stood outside the front door in her heels and that tiny little dress, voices and laughter wafting through the walls as the inside hummed with the rarity of a ferrari victory. she nervously tapped her fingers against the side of her purse as a group of haas mechanics crossed the parking lot, wolf whistling at her before she flipped them both the bird.

“are you coming inside, or are you just going to stand there and freeze your balls off?”

“oh, if only I had balls to freeze. and this is bloody australia, its not even that cold.” y/n chuckled to herself, turning to look at jessica hawkins, one of the aston martin young drivers. “I need someone to remind me that I dont look stupid in this goddamn dress that hanna vettel picked out for me.”

jessica cocked an eyebrow, looking the mechanic up and down. “babes, you look hot! who are you trying to impress?”

“charles.” y/n mumbled, her face flushing pink before she cleared her throat. “its stupid, isn’t it?”

the other young woman shook her head. “not at all.” she grinned, linking her arm through y/n’s. “come on, lets go get you your man!”

the inside of the club was crowded, yet closed to the public as f1, f2, and the w series descended on the establishment. all of the f3 drivers were too young to legally drink, and had made their displeasure quite clear as they were herded away to an italian restaurant instead of the club.

"drinks for the lovely ladies?" abbie eaton chortled, bringing tequila shots over to where the mechanic and jessica were standing. "cheers on three, yeah?"

jessica sounded off with the countdown, the three women tapping the tiny glasses against each other before throwing back the burning alcoholic drink.

"if i'm going to do this," y/n began, raising her voice to be heard over the drake song that was playing. "i'm doing it right!" she took off her jacket, throwing it over a chair before she made her way over to the dj booth, her ballet flats sticking to the floor.

after a whispered conversation (and a monetary bribe), wheatus' 2000 hit 'teenage dirtbag' began to play over the speakers as y/n and jessica took to the floor, champagne flutes in hand as they began to dance.

from across the way, under the deep blue lights, charles leclerc was in a trance as he watched the way she moved, laughing and giggling as she sang along, finally getting each word right. adn charles would be lying if he said he didn't love the way her legs looked in that short little dress, how full her breasts looked in the red fabric that cradled them.

"is he still being a pussy?" pierre gasly groaned. "come on, man! you won the fucking race, and that's still not giving you the confidence you need to tell her you have a crush on her?"

"i'd rather not embarrass myself too much, thank you pierre." charles grumbled, taking another sip of his fruity mixed drink.

"he won't even drink proper alcohol." carlos commented. "i think she broke him."

pierre shook his head. "i will not stand for this, i am not letting it go on any longer. ilies!" he shouted, waving over his best friend- save for charles of course- and social media manager. "we need you to do something for us, for charles."

ilies nadri nodded. "it's about that girl he keeps talking about, isn't it?"

"exactly. so here's what you're going to do."

back on the dancefloor, y/n was beginning to forget that charles was watching, laughing and singing with jessica as the dj began to play 'toxic' by britney spears, at a drunken lando norris' request.

"looks like you've got an admirier. and it's not charles." nerea marti pointed out, nudging her head in the direction of ilies nadri, who was beginning to make his way over to the girls.

"well, if charles isn't interested." jessica shrugged, calpping her on the shoulders. "you look too pretty tonight to go home alone if you don't want to, and it looks like there's a good looking bloke who wants to join ya."

moments blurred as nadri took y/n's hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and making her laugh with a french come-on, and before she knew it they were dancing to britney.

and she had forgotten about him, about the reason she wore that red dress in the first place.

but charles never forgot about her, his eyes boring into the back of ilies' head as he watched them dancing to a christina aguilera song. his grip was steadily tightening on his glass, and carlos looked over at him with a concerned glance.

"are you sure that getting her to dance with ilies was the smartest idea?" carlos whispered under his breath, raising his eyebrow at pierre. "he's going to break the fucking glass."

"or, he'll get jealous and go over there." pierre reasoned.

"how the fuck do you have a girlfriend, gasly?"

but pierre's reasoning must have been rooted in proof, for charles put down his glass and tromped over to the dance floor, his eyes a certain shade of jealous as he prepared himself to finally make a move.

he didn't speak, sweeping over the dancefloor to grab y/n's arm and pull her away from ilies and away from the dancefloor and it's illuminated vinyl flooring.

"charles, what is wrong with you?" y/n shouted, tispy on her feet and buzzing from alcohol as she tried to ignore the way her chest tightened and her heart skipped a beat at charles' possessiveness.

"i'm in love with you." he blurted out, desperation in his voice. "and i'm tired of hiding how i feel. i don't care how it looks to the outside, or to mattia, but i want to be with you. you were never just one of the boys to me, y/n. you were just you. and i like who i am with you. i want to be able to be that person for you, all the time."

"charles." she said softly, heart softening before starting and stopping again in an erratic beating pattern that would have worried her if she could have heard the beating over the refrain of charles' confessions playing on loop in her mind, louder and louder each time. "just kiss me."

and that's what charles did, an *nsync song playing in the background as he mashed his lips to hers, backing her up against the wall as she giggled, wrapping a slender, bare leg around his own, arms looped haphazardly around his neck and over his shoulders.

"charles, your phone isn't in your front pocket, right?" she panted.

charles looked confused, resting his forehead against hers. "no, i always put it in my back pocket."

"fuck." y/n all but moaned, arousal pooling in her own thighs as she thought about what was in between charles'. "that means that it's your rock-hard cock that's pressing against me right now, and that's so fucking hot."

grinning to himself, charles pressed up against her even more. "whay don't you join me at my hotel, and i'll show you just how fucking hard you make me."

"is that a threat or an invitation?"

"it's whatever you want it to be, mon cher."

"kiss me one more time, and you've got a deal."

[jess-the-vampire]

In regards to Dana's current leave from disney because people have already lost hope for future toh content because she left-

We don't exactly know how permanent her leave is going to be for now. Dana was always planning to leave for a break after the show ended, she mentioned it several times and given the stress she was under it makes sense she needs time away from disney and working under them for a bit.

But, this doesn't mean she no longer has interest in toh content or making future toh content.

And that the fans should stop pushing, because they shouldn't.

because dana made it very clear even in recent stuff she wants to do comics and other content, so clearly she has interest in more if disney allows for it and asks her.

Dana would probably not ask us to keep hammering disney if she genuinely was done and didn't wanna do more, she wouldn't let us get our hopes up.

When GF ended, Alex put down the fan push for more because he didn't want more, i see no reason dana wouldn't do the same, Its very clear she's at least leaving the door open.

Despite everything, she isn't completely opposed to the idea.

All we know for now, is she wants a break because making the show took a lot out of her, so she was going to leave disney for a bit regardless, how permanent it is depends on disney and herself. If they ask her to come back and she feels comfortable in doing so, she might, but it depends how things go moving forward.

so until further notice, the world of toh will be more on a long hiatus, rather then for certain dead.

It could end here, she could decide never to come back, but she's made it clear the door isn't closed as of yet, even if it's awhile from now.

i don't think any of us would want her to go right back into work after all of that anyway, taking a break and coming back if she wants to is probably for the best for now. Especially if she comes back to make something just as great.

Its a situation that depends on her and disney, and even if they ask and she says no, pushing for the option is still good and still should be done.

Maybe she'll get a new show with another network, who knows with the state of animated shows these days.....

But don't let her well deserved break deter you from pushing.

Especially since she's one of the people asking you to still push.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #31

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

The October cold air hits Jungkook's cheeks like a slap to his face, nor does he need it judging by the beating heart that hammers harshly in his chest. He can't remember the last time he was this nervous, probably on their first date as he wanted everything to go perfect and smoothly. And it went, beyond his expectations actually. However, he's not sure about this time because he has no idea how today will end.

And he's just minutes from finding it.

With each step he takes inside the restaurant, he feels like he could throw up onto the luxurious polished floor. For now, he tries to swallow down the lump that sits uncomfortably in his throat as a waitress welcomes him. The words about his reservation leave his mouth automatically, he barely puts any mind in what he's saying other than mentioning his name and the fact he made a reservation for tonight. The waitress smiles at him, completely oblivious to his racing heart and mind as she guides him through the restaurant. She says something to him but he doesn't pay any attention to her, he can't because his eyes are focused elsewhere until they stop on her.

The waitress shows him his seat, informing them something about her coming back in a few minutes when they'll decide on their order. But Jungkook barely acknowledges her, slowly sitting down as if the seat should burn him while his eyes don't leave Kiko.

He can't believe his own eyes. Not just because she's gorgeous like she's always been, or that her hair is shorter than he has ever seen on her. But her sitting in front of him, on the other side of the circled square table after two months of trying to meet up with her is certainly something different. It seems like her visiting her family in Japan has benefited her. The other times he's seen her, like at Seokjin's wedding or the camping trip, there was something in her eyes that he knew was wrong. And he got that answer.

It was guilt all along.

However, she smiles brightly at the waitress and thanks her with a bow, her whole face beaming from the natural glow that she's holding. At first, for someone not knowing her so well, someone would've thought that she doesn't feel as nervous or guilty anymore. Jungkook knows better though. Thus, her eyes flickering to him from the opposite side of the table and the sudden change in them tells him otherwise. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, giving him a weak and somehow shaky smile in return.

She's nervous.

Just like Jungkook that feels like his hands are already so sweaty that he ends up wiping them against the black slacks he's wearing.

"You're early," Jungkook starts, voice surprisingly confident but soft at the same time.

He wanted to make sure he's earlier than Kiko, just to have enough time to prepare himself for something he's been thinking and preparing for months. And maybe chug a glass of wine before she arrives to ease up his nerves and the possible outcome of tonight's night, because he doesn't know what to expect. But nothing could prepare him for tonight.

Attentive as always, he picked out one of the best restaurants — the one they used to come for dinner dates because the food is delicious. Jungkook thought that maybe picking up a familiar place would bring at least some kind of comfort. Although, he's not sure about that because none of that is on his mind right now.

"Yes," Kiko chuckles, the soft sound coming out shakily as she's looking at Jungkook.

He can tell she spent more time on her makeup than usual, the eyeliner making her eyes bigger and if he leaned closer, he'd see the soft peach eyeshadow coating her lids. There's no point of denying that she's beautiful, whether she wears makeup or not.

"I was nervous, actually I still am," she admits, and Jungkook mentally agrees with her because yes, he feels the same and can relate to that. "You came early too."

"I'm nervous too," he admits, lips lifting up in a slight grin as she smiles at him, letting out a faint giggle. "But I think you can already tell."

Of course, she can. Jungkook is not the only one who knows her, she knows him too. They weren't dating just for fun.

"This reminds me of our first date," she says, briefly laughing at the memory that seems so long ago but still very clear to both of them.

Jungkook joins her, remembering that time he finally had the guts to ask her out only for him to be a nervous wreck. They were holding hands for ten seconds before their hands got too sweaty, their anxiety acting up. But it wasn't awkward or embarrassing at all, they laughed it off and it was quite cute. The whole evening ended up much better than Jungkook thought.

He treated her to a nice dinner and then they went to a park, walked around while they were surrounded by nature and the moon glistening in the sky. He even got to kiss her when he drove her home. Well, it wasn't their first kiss but it still counts because by the end of the night, they both agreed on going on another date. This time as a boyfriend and a girlfriend.

"I don't think I've ever been that nervous on a date." she laughs, shaking her head.

"We were more anxious than we should've been." Jungkook agrees, taking into account how their date ended after all. There was no reason to be that nervous.

"Sorry," Kiko suddenly blurts out, shoulders sulking as if she just remembered something. She glances up from her lap and stares at him with that guilty look.

Jungkook's brows pinch together, growing worried and mostly confused by the sudden apology.

"Why am I bringing up our first date? That's so stupid," she scolds herself, huffing out an angered breath. "You're dating Y/N."

At the mention of your name, Jungkook's eyes widen and he realizes that Kiko doesn't know. The only people who know are Jimin and Taehyung, they are not exactly the type to blurt our other people's business, especially if it's you and him. They're curious, too curious for their own good and invested in your lives (which intensified when they found out the two of you 'are dating') but they wouldn't go around and speak about your lives to random people.

"About that... we're not dating anymore," Jungkook clarifies, tasting a weird taste in his mouth at the lie. Fuck, he hates lying but now it's not the time to come clear.

He wouldn't go on dinner with his ex-girlfriend if he was dating someone else. He's not that kind of an asshole. If he had a girlfriend, he wouldn't care to win Kiko back or try to save whatever their relationship is right now. Even if he maybe needed some kind of closure, he wouldn't meet up with his ex-girlfriend while he has a girlfriend waiting for him.

"We broke up."

Kiko's eyebrows shoot up at the information before they twist in somewhere between pity and guilt. But she doesn't say 'I'm sorry' or anything close to it because she knows how stupid that would sound. As much as Jungkook is a gentleman, she's not such a bitch to steal someone else's guy.

Sure, she didn't know that the two of you 'broke up' but knowing what the real purpose of this meetup is, she probably knew there is something else behind this. Jungkook wouldn't just ask her out for dinner, something that almost seems more intimate and romantic than lunch (at such a nice restaurant) or anything else. Yet, she still seems surprised to hear it.

She did confess that she still loves him. Jungkook is the one who has to think about other things too, and deal with them. She's looking for answers too.

"Why?" Is the word that leaves her mouth, instead of apology because both of them know how stupid that would sound.

But she still would feel sorry if the reason behind your break up is her. She never meant to come between your relationship. Jungkook was the one who kept insisting and pushing Kiko to answer his questions on the camping trip.

"We agreed that we're better as best friends." Jungkook answers, saying the same thing he said to the guys back in the club.

It seems like the most reasonable reason to say, especially when you and Jungkook are still best friends and completely fine. They'd question it if you said something else.

Kiko is not stupid. She may not be the full reason for your breakup, but she surely knows Jungkook isn't over her yet when he wanted to meet up and find the answer to the question; What now?

Their conversation is interrupted by the waitress, politely asking them about their orders but they haven't  even checked the menu since they've sat down. Jungkook orders a steak, the first thing that comes to his mind and the only rational choice since he knows they have it on their regular menu. Kiko orders the same, knowing grins spreading on their lips. Jungkook orders wine, asking Kiko about her preference even though he knows she prefers white wine. Just like he predicted, the same answer rolls off her tongue before the waitress nods and leaves to get their order ready.

Kiko opens her mouth, ready to say something, ready to question the biggest question mark of tonight and Jungkook sees that, noticing her nervously rubbing her hands in her lap even from the opposite side.

"Let's eat first, okay? Then we can talk about... more serious stuff." Jungkook offers, not prepared to talk about that right now.

At least he wants to enjoy the food, he tries to tell himself. He just really wants to talk to her casually, acting as if nothing's wrong even if it's just for a moment.

"Yeah, sure." she smiles, trying to mask the way she sighs in relief but Jungkook notices, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

"You visited your family in Japan, right? How was it?"

He starts the conversation, feeling himself relax a little bit.

"Great, I needed that. It helped me a lot, I went there to think..." She starts nervously biting her bottom lip as Jungkook notices what she's aiming at, but he ignores it. "I was there for about... two months I think? I took a few weeks off and then worked from home. I'm incredibly lucky that my job allows me that, although my boss wasn't very happy about it. But I missed Korea. Japan is my home but I've built so much more here."

Jungkook nods in understatement. He feels the same way with Busan. This is one of the reasons why he fell in love with her. She's an easy person to talk to and they're both similar, understanding each other.

"How are your parents?" he asks with interest, remembering the lovely people that treated him so nicely when he went to Japan with Kiko.

Unfortunately, he didn't get to see them as often as Kiko got Jungkook's parents but it's only understandable, considering the distance. Busan is always closer than Japan. But it doesn't mean Kiko's parents aren't lovely either. If he ever thought about the future, he knew they would be amazing in-laws.

"Great," she smiles at the thought of her parents, almost wanting to say something but she closes her mouth and gives him a weak chuckle. "They're great. What," she hesitates, "What about your parents? How are they?"

She's careful about the topic of Jungkook's parents, knowing they've always loved her but who knows what they think about her right now.

"I went to visit them in August," Jungkook answers, mentally making a note to visit them as soon as possible.

Looking at it now, the nearest possible visit to his hometown will be on Christmas. Which is in two months, so it's not that far away but still, he'd be glad to visit them before that too. Unfortunately, this season is busy for him as he has scheduled weddings and photoshoots.

"They're doing great too. Mom's sad she doesn't get to see me more often but, yeah, that's nothing new." he breathes out a chuckle and Kiko joins, knowing how much Jungkook's mom loves her children.

She hesitates again, the question muffled and Jungkook has to lean slightly towards her to hear her better. "Did they, did they ask about me?"

Jungkook notices her face flushing with embarrassment and she avoids Jungkook's eyes for a moment, before she gets the courage to look at him again. He sucks in breath, tongue glazing over his dry bottom lip before he opens his mouth.

"Yeah, they did," he answers carefully, "They didn't know we broke up, so I had to tell them."

"They didn't know? Why?" she asks, growing bolder as curiosity is slowly replacing embarrassment.

He coughs, shifting on his spot. "I, uh, I didn't want them to know because I had a hard time admitting that it's over. I guess I was trying to persuade myself that it's not over yet. If I told them the truth at the very beginning, my mom would ask just too many questions and I didn't exactly feel like explaining to her why we broke up, since I didn't even know."

When it first happened, the first weeks after Kiko broke up with him all of a sudden, Jungkook's mom used to call him to check up on him. She's not calling him every day, knowing very well that he's got his own personal life now but when Jungkook failed to call her or even text her for two whole weeks, she grew worried and called him until he picked up. He remembers that his excuse was saying that he's sick, when his mom could tell something's wrong by listening to his weak and heartbroken voice.

"So... they don't know about..." she stops, biting onto her lip harshly.

The guilt and embarrassment is clear on her face, something that Jungkook notices right away. He's not the only one who's having a hard time talking about this, it's just a reminder of what she had done. And Jungkook knows what she's trying to ask, it's not that hard to guess.

"No," he answers, "You know they could never hate you, not even if I told them the truth. But I don't want them to know, I don't want them to look at you differently."

It's an incredibly huge and brave thing to do, but that only shows Jungkook's kindness because yet again, he thinks about others first before himself. Kiko broke up with him, she wasn't the one insisting on getting back together because from her point of view, she doesn't deserve him. But judging from what Jungkook heard from her or could see, she still loves him. If they both love each other, there's a chance they can get past this.

"Thank you," she whispers, her eyes suddenly growing big as she tries to blink away the tears that threaten to spill.

Jungkook almost reaches for her, wanting to comfort her but she chuckles at herself and shakes her head. "See? I don't deserve you. You're too good, Kookie."

He smiles at the nickname, "How about we enjoy that dinner, hm? No more serious talking until we're full." he offers, giving her another smile which almost makes her burst in tears as she slowly nods.

The waitress from before is already walking towards their table, a bottle of wine in her hands as they both allow themselves to relax a little bit.

They bring the food shortly after, reminding Jungkook one of the perks of eating in this restaurant – fast service. Him and Kiko chitchat through the food, the conversation surprisingly flowing naturally and comfortably as they sip on the white wine.

The rest of the dinner goes over Jungkook's expectations, shockingly there's not an ounce of nervousness inside him. Maybe a little uncertainty of what tonight can bring to him but there's one thing he's certain about. His wild mind and thoughts completely shut off as he and Kiko talked so freely, like nothing had changed between them. He had found himself being comfortable, even joked a few times and earned a couple of giggles from the woman on the opposite side of the table. The sound had brought him back to the time when everything was perfect for both of them, as a couple.

Once their dessert is already eaten, the empty plates being taken away from the waitress, they know it's the right time to get to the root of tonight's purpose. And just like that, there's uncertainty and maybe even discomfort lingering in the air as he sees Kiko shifting in her spot. He doesn't like that.

"I don't want to sugarcoat anything," he starts, putting down the glass of sparkling water he ordered since he drove here with a car and doesn't want to risk drinking more than he is allowed.  He has never done that and doesn't plan on doing.

He watches her giving him a brief nod of understatement, anxiously looking at her nude nails which Jungkook recognizes as another sign of her being nervous. He knows that if they weren't in a restaurant, she would pick on her nails too.

"You know why I asked you to meet up," he sighs, trying to speak carefully as she listens to him. "I wanted to see how this night would go, if anything is worth saving..." Their relationship.

"And I guess, I wanted to see how I feel about you even after... you told me," he says, flickering his eyes to meet hers as she looks like she's ten seconds from crying. "We didn't have that much time and space to talk."

She stays quiet, slowly nodding along his words not interrupting what he has to say. She knows he has to get it off his chest and it's only fair for her to listen to him.

"Do you love me, Kik?" he asks suddenly, surprising her as her eyes widen and she straightens up slightly.

"Yes," She doesn't miss a beat to answer. "I know I screwed up, I hurt you so much and I'll never forgive myself. And I thought you'd never want to see me again, I thought you'd hate me."

"I told you I could never hate you," he says quietly, "No matter how much you've hurt me."

"But you should," she says, her voice hardening as she frowns. "You should hate me. Just tell me one thing. You didn't break up with Y/N because of me, right?"

It surprises how guilty she sounds, even his eyebrows shoot up a bit at the question as he nibbles on his bottom lip. Technically, you "broke up" because of her but realistically, you've never dated in the first place. Things got messy ever since he figured out that she didn't break up with him because she wanted space. The whole thing was supposed to be easy – he wanted to know if she still loves him and if she saw you with him, that would be his answer. But the whole thing blew up into something completely different and big, something that hurt him ten times worse than the actual breakup.

"I told you," he mutters, "We're better as best friends. There are no hard feelings."

"That's hard to believe," she chuckles, looking down at her lap shyly. "You both seemed happy together."

Jungkook almost chokes on his spit, wanting her to assure her that it wasn't like that. Yes, you both enjoyed time spent together but it wasn't like that. It's not what she's implying. He keeps his mouth sealed, not wanting to expose the real reason behind the two of you 'being happy together'. It's not the right time anyway. He'll tell her eventually, plus, he's not the one who cheated.

"I was happy with you too."

She widens her eyes, letting out a cough. "I know," she admits, "I never planned on telling you. I wanted to spare you the pain but you kept insisting..."

"So it's my fault?" he shoots, cursing at himself when he sees the shock on her face mixed with hurt and guilt.

"No, of course not," she shakes her head, looking like she's in pain. "It's all my fault, I know that."

"That's not what I meant," He's the one who shakes his head. "Look, I'm not gonna lie. This dinner made me realize that things aren't that bad between us, we can still talk and it feels like nothing changed. You're still the woman I fell in love with, I guess it's obvious I still love you. I wouldn't have gone through all of this if I didn't."

She can't help but smile at the mention of him still loving her. She doesn't deserve him, she knows but her heart is screaming at her for fighting for him.

"I love you too." she whispers as Jungkook's heart jumps at that. It hits differently when she says it so openly, instead of answering his question with a simple 'yes'.

"But I can't forget what you've done," His voice shivers, "But I can forgive slowly."

"What do you mean?" she asks cautiously, her breath catching in her throat as she sees him taking a breath, staring right back into her eyes.

"I want you back," he confesses, her mouth opening as her eyes water with tears. "And I believe we can get through this."

"I'll do anything you need me to." she says, wanting nothing else than to reach towards him. She holds herself, watching his doe eyes flickering between her eyes and the table.

"Time," he breathes out, "I need time."

The muted music carries itself around the closed club, much softer than it'll be playing in twenty minutes before a bunch of people with a purpose to get drunk and have fun will be allowed to come in. You can't help but feel a little uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach because you don't know what to expect.

"I don't like this."

Your best friend's voice resounds, not really helping with your inner battle with an uneasy feeling.

"I know," you roll your eyes, "You told me like hundreds of times by now." you mutter, raising a brow at him as he stares at you from the other side of the bar, sitting on one of the stools while watching you.

Realizing that he's not really helping, he sighs and slouches his shoulders. "No, I mean... Do you think this is really a good idea?"

"What other option do I have, Jungkook?" you ask, almost annoyingly even though you know he is only worried and cares about you.

It happened only recently that you've made your decision to work a part-time job in a club in Itaewon. If somebody told you you'll spend some of your weekends working behind a bar in a club, you'd most likely laugh in their face and tell them that's not going to happen. Well, it did. Inconveniently, your car started to show the consequences of its old age. Not only had it started taking tools on you financially, the engine stopped working and you'd spend a few minutes in front of the company's building trying to start it. Then you had to buy new brakes because the old ones have not worked properly and there are still a bunch of things that need to be replaced. The middle aged mechanic who's been in charge of your car in the car service you've entrusted your precious old car into has told you, it's probably best to look for a better car because this one will just cost you money.

"I could always lend you some money." he tries, ignoring the glare you're giving him.

You know Jungkook has some saved up money but you can't let him do that. What if his new car breaks down all of a sudden? What would he do then? Jungkook doesn't really think about possible consequences and scenarios that can happen. He's so determined to lend you his money that he doesn't think about himself, and you can't let that happen.

"It's just for a few months, anyway," you wave your hand at him, ignoring his attempt of changing your mind even though he knows you've decided.

You're standing behind a bar, aren't you? It's already done, but you could still back out.

The funniest thing is how you got into this job and the person who helped you to get this job is the least person you ever thought would help you. It's actually pretty random too.

It was one of those days when your car wouldn't work, so you just sat inside your car with a completely annoyed and pissed expression. All you wanted was to get home, get out of your work clothes and take a nice shower. The last person you expected to be knocking on your window is none other than Min Yoongi himself, grinning at you or maybe even laughing at your desperate expression.

"What do you want?" you grumble annoyingly once the car's window is rolled down.

He has the audacity to lean his arms against your rolled down window, almost sticking his head into your car as you want to sneer at the close proximity. 

"You in trouble, grumpy?" He even has the audacity to laugh, cackling at your sore expression.

Of course he knows about your trouble with your car. He has spent a good week grinning whenever he walked up to his car, seeing you struggling to start the engine while passing by yours. It's only now he stopped by.

"Why are you asking such a dumb question? Of course, I'm in trouble. My car is not working and you know that, so please spare me the--"

"Jesus, okay, calm down you maniac," he stops you, straightening himself and giving you some space to breathe. "Get that fat ass out of your car, I'm gonna help you start the engine."

"How are you gonna do that?" you speak, narrowing your eyes as he looks at you dumbfoundedly. 

"Using jumper cables, of course." he deadpans, and fuck, you hate the look he gives you. Like you're dumb, you hate when people do that. Or naturally looking down on you because you're a woman.

"I know what that is, thanks." you snap, opening the door so you can step out of your car.

"Really? Why haven't you used it then?" he raises a brow at you. 

"Because I don't have those cables?" you react by raising your voice. He's getting on your nerves again.

Still, everyone is already home. You and Yoongi had to stay behind and work overtime again. 

"Then you should've asked someone for help." he snaps, annoyed by your attitude. It's the same thing with you two. Both too stubborn and annoyed at each other to stand back and keep your mouth shut. 

"Someone? Who? You?" you laugh bitterly, knowing he had a fair share of fun while watching you struggle with your car. 

"I'm helping you, aren't I?" he shoots back, walking to the white Toyota that's parked just a few parking places from yours. 

You watch him unlock the car, sitting into it as he drives and parks it in front of your car. He walks out, pulling out the jumper cables out of the truck. It looks weird, seeing him in his shirt and blazer while holding those cables.

"Do you even know how to do this?" you ask, hugging yourself with your jacket as the end of September's breeze runs chills. Yoongi's pink cheeks are proof that you're not the only one getting cold. 

You watch him opening his car hood as he does the same to yours before he raises a brow at you. Well, he certainly knows what to do with those cables but you still had to ask. You've never seen him doing such a thing (of course you didn't, you don't actually spend time with him outside of work) and even in work, he's known as being lazy. Still gets the job done though, but you never tell him that.

"I'm not completely useless," he grumbles at you.

The irritated part of you wants to snap back, not giving him that satisfaction of you being quiet but that's exactly what you must do. He's the only help you've got right now. It's already late and dark outside for you to be sitting in a car in an almost empty parking lot.

"Now shut up and turn on your flashlight, I can't see shit in this darkness." he grumbles as usual, shooting you a glare as you fume at his words.

Patience, Y/N. He's the only one who can help you.

So, keeping your mouth shut, you pull out your phone and turn on the flashlight while he starts ordering you around. You're sure he's doing that to piss you off even more but you ignore it, changing the angle of the flashlight every five seconds with clenched teeth as he keeps nagging you. 

Your car started after that, but the same thing happened a few more times leaving you completely helpless and you can't believe it, but you complained to Yoongi during the lunch break. He seemed completely unimpressed with your issue, sipping on his iced Americano like you were talking about the weather instead of your actual problem.

And you were sure he didn't even listen to your single word, praying when you'll finally shut up until he opened his mouth and surprisingly, nothing bitter came out of it.

"My brother owns a club and he's looking for someone to work behind a bar."

You stare at him with an open mouth, ready to cuss him out for interrupting you in the middle of your sentence but you pause yourself. He has a brother? And he owns a club? Why does it feel like everyone owns something? Jungkook's friend Seokjin, owns a restaurant and Jungkook's brother owns a coffee shop. 

"Behind a bar?" It's funny how your voice is quiet and timid, assuring that you've heard your co-worker right. 

"Yeah, I mean... it's not exactly a dream job but he pays well. I could ask him, you know... if you're interested." he mumbles the last part, almost looking regretful that he even started in the first place. 

You're intrigued. You're not going to lie, you started looking for a part-time job but most of them weren't going well with your working schedule. You need something where you'll be able to work during weekends only. 

"I've never mixed a drink. I don't know how to do any of that stuff." you admit, hating that you sound stupid in front of him but it's true. Apart from the failed drinks you were trying to mix for your friends which unfortunately, ended up unsuccessfully. You remember Jimin's cringed expression and Taehyung looking like he's just seconds from throwing up very clearly. 

"He'll teach you everything you need to know. He needs a little help behind the bar," he shrugs, "And I'm sure he'll be able to adjust to your working schedule too."

You stare at your co-worker, recognizing the way he's avoiding eye contact as he keeps sipping on his Americano while staring at the busy streets of Seoul. Your lips curl into a grin, your hand draping over his shoulder as he tenses and gives you a glare, silently asking why the hell are you touching him. 

"Min Yoongi, are you helping me?" you ask, not able to hide the grin and amusement in your voice as he doesn't waste a second, scoffing at you.

"No," he disagrees, but what could you expect from him, right? "I'm just tired of listening to you complaining, I'm sure my ears are bleeding at this point." 

You clench your teeth, rolling your eyes at him. "I don't know, working at a club seems dangerous." 

"That's why there's security there." he deadpans, causing you to scowl.

"And I'm a woman. Working in a club where there are a bunch of drunk idiots all the time seems kinda dangerous." you point out, voice harsh but you try to control yourself since you're not alone in the breakroom. 

"Don't flatter yourself," he says, looking you up and down as you scoff. "My brother cares about the safety of his customers and employees. It's not that bad as it sounds." he decides to say, almost as if he has the need to have his brother's back even though you've never specifically said something about him or his working ethic.

You purse your lips for a moment, staring at the view with Yoongi by your side. He is an annoying co-worker and sometimes, you're sure he hates your guts and loves making your days at work miserable with his snarky remarks. But you're sure he wouldn't be offering you a job at his brother's club, someone who's close to him. And it's very rare to see him speaking to you about something so freely and casually, and that's how you know he's honest. 

"Okay, can you give me his number?"

And here you are. After coming here for a couple of days, trying to learn how to mix a proper drink (just the simple ones since the difficult drinks are Mark's responsibility). A guy who's close to your age with a nice and friendly smile.

You don't know what you expected when you were about to meet Yoongi's brother for the first time, but you definitely didn't expect someone so friendly and well-mannered. The opposite of his younger brother who happens to be your co-worker too. Deep down, you know he's not that bad of a type guy and it's just his personality that's shitty. Some part of you thought his brother would secretly hate you. That's what siblings do, right? Having each other's back by hating the same person.

Yejun is in his mid thirties, very polite and professional and there's only a little resemblance between him and his annoying younger brother. He's been nothing but polite and very flexible when it comes to your working schedule. So far, you won't be working every weekend and the pay is really good, Yoongi was right about that one.

Actually, he was right about most of the stuff. The place is secure and Yejun made sure to tell you that if someone is being persistent and rude, just tell one of the security guys and they'll have that person kicked out. That definitely settled your nerves.

"What if something happens to you?" Jungkook asks, the doe eyes staring at you with a sudden alarm at the thought of you being hurt by one of the drunken males.

He's not stupid, he knows what working in a bar involves and he definitely knows how drunk men often think about women way out of their league. Men can be real pigs. It doesn't matter that your working attire consists of light blue jeans and a simple tight white shirt with a tiny club's logo on the right side.

"There are security men in every corner, I'm safe here. Plus, I'll be behind a bar all the time with Mark," you say, pointing towards the mentioned man who's talking with one of the bouncers.

Jungkook follows your vision, frown settled on his face as he doesn't look to be too convinced.

"And the break room is just right next to the bar where one of the security guys will be standing all night."

It seems like you're trying to convince him, but the truth is you're trying to convince yourself too. You're nervous after all, not knowing what to expect.

"What if someone follows you outside?" he exclaims, trying to prove a point as you roll your eyes at him. Again.

"Jesus, Jeon," you groan, "You're not helping."

He looks guilty, shrugging before he mumbles; "I'm just trying to prove a point."

Yeah, well there was a reason why you haven't told him about this before it was hundred percent sure and you signed a contract.

"Our cars are parked behind the club, no one has access to that parking lot, just the staff."

He frowns, you see the wheels turning inside his head and how much he tries to keep his mouth shut. He wants to say something else but knows he's no help, especially when tonight is your first day and you're already nervous as it is.

"But how was the dinner?" you ask, trying to change the topic and well, you're curious how that ended.

Ever since Jungkook came into the club to check on you, he never uttered a single word about it and started to voice out his worry about your new part-time job instead. Maybe it was his way of distracting himself or distancing this conversation, although there is no reason to. He'd tell you eventually.

Even when you called him this morning, he sounded so freaking nervous and as much as he tried to hide it by trying to act and sound cool, you know him better than that. He's been preparing for that dinner for weeks, checking his phone in fear Kiko would cancel it. Even though you had usually hung out during weekends, since the two of you work during the week, you could easily see him trying to distract himself by thinking about her or the dinner.

"It was... good. Better than I thought it would be." he answers honestly, shifting on his spot.

Well, he definitely made sure to look good on that dinner. He came here straight from it, wearing button-up and black slacks, replacing his all black and loose outfits with much more elegant appearance. His hair is styled nicely, parted in the middle while he's hiding the undercut beneath it. It's a change from the constant man bun or a bucket hat he's been wearing often these days.

"What does that mean?" you ask, flickering your eyes to his while there's a little knowing feeling inside of you.

First of all, he doesn't look miserable. If the dinner went wrong, he wouldn't be sitting here so casually. And then as soon as he registers your question, a sheepish grin settles on his lips while there's a slight shimmer in his eyes and then you know.

"That I got what I wanted?" he asks unsurely, dodging answering your question directly as you raise a brow at him.

You're sure you look dumbfounded, the look you're giving him dares him to say it directly and he looks almost alarmed. Still, you're controlling yourself because you know how much this means to him. Although, there is a pinch of hope inside you hoping he'll tell you otherwise.

"Which is?" you murmur, already knowing what his answer is but how can you glare at him for listening to his heart? Especially when he smiles, genuinely smiling with happiness that you haven't seen in him for a while.

He sighs, raising his brow as if it's not obvious but then he takes a deep breath and beams; "Kiko."

Unfortunately, you can't quite share the happiness with him, even though he's your best friend and you support him. Is that wrong of you? You can't help it, you just can't support a relationship and a woman that cheated on him when he gave her everything. He was ready to ask her to move in for fucks sake. He had been so serious about their relationship, wanting to take another step and she crushed his heart just like that. And that's not even the worst part. She cheated. She freaking cheated on one of the best men walking on this planet.

And even the stiff smile you give him, murmuring 'congratulations' doesn't go unnoticed by him and his shoulder slouch a little, letting out a defeated sigh.

"Please, don't look at me like that." he pleads, hand rubbing his forehead with a tiny distress.

"Like what?" you ask innocently, feeling bad for having that kind of reaction. But you can't control it! It's not your fault you'd jump at her and slap her face for hurting your best friend. It's all on her.

"Like you're disappointed in me."

That one hurt. Your eyes flash with guilt and sadness before you let out a sigh, leaning yourself against the bar and closer to him.

"It's your life, Kook," you remind him, "Whatever makes you happy." you smile, but Jungkook's brows furrow in a slight frown when he recognizes your smile as forced.

"I don't want you to hate her, she regrets it, you know. And we're taking it slow." he tells you softly, pleadingly staring at you while you let out a snort.

"I don't hate her." Yes, you do. But you can't tell him that, that would break him.

"I don't want to be put into a position to choose between you two."

"You don't have to. I'm your best friend and she's your girlfriend," Fuck, even that word tastes bitter in your mouth. "You didn't have to choose in the first place. It's been her all along."

"But I still want my best friend. You're important to me, Y/N," he says, sounding serious and genuine. "I just... I don't want you to hate her because one day, you'll probably see her again and I don't want you guys to have some... I don't know, tension between you two." he tries to explain.

It makes sense. You feel bad for reacting the way you do but again, you can't control it. You can't fake your emotions and opinion about their relationship or Kiko, Jungkook knows very well what you think about this. You're not about to say you hate her and don't want him to be with her, because she'll ruin him. And if it's not going to be her, it's going to be the fact she cheated on him. You still control yourself as best as you can, thinking about Jungkook's feelings knowing what he's trying to say with his.

He doesn't want you to hate each other because like he said, eventually your paths will cross whether you like it or not. She's a part of Jungkook's life and you're too.

"Look, I'm not gonna pretend I like her because I know she hurt you. And maybe you're over it, or trying to be... but I'm not. But it's also not my relationship or any of my business. I just hope she won't hurt you again. I really wish you to be happy." you tell him honestly, seeing him giving you a soft and appreciative smile.

"You're the best," he says with a smile, "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

You smile back at him, this one a tiny bit more honest when you see the happiness dancing in his eyes. This is what he wanted after all, you both got what you wanted from your deal. And you should be happy...

Somehow, you still don't feel content because so much has happened. Things you both haven't expected like her hurting him for the second time, breaking his heart again and you have to remind yourself that this is what he wants. No matter how many times you find it wrong in so many ways (getting back to an ex who cheated), it's Jungkook's decision. You're just looking out for him, the same way he does for you right now. Sitting on the bar stool with sparkling water in front of him because he had driven here, making sure he's here to support you on your first day.

You just hope he'll be there for you on other days too. You just got him back, you're not quite ready for him to focus on Kiko all over again. Maybe it's a selfish or just natural reaction of a best friend that missed him.

And when Mark calls out to you, informing you the club is opening in five minutes, Jungkook is there to assure you that you'll do great and he's right there.

And maybe, just maybe, this time it'll be different. And just like Jungkook hoped to win Kiko back, you hope nothing will change and you won't lose him again.

[archangeldyke-all]

EEEEEEE how bout reader finding Sevika hot whenever she fixes stuff or builds things around the house and quite literally not leaving her alone. Like yes Sevika you hammer the nail 😍. Reader would be STALKING Sevika around the house whenever she’s working.

ppppfft this is so real.

men and minors dni

there's just something about it...

the first time sevika does some kind of housework for you is in the very beginning of your relationship, in the middle of your second date.

you'd had plans to go on a picnic, but the weather and rain had other plans, so you ended up cooking for sevika in your apartment and watching a movie together.

sevika asks if she can snoop while you cook. you grin and give her permission, banning her from the top drawer in your room (hoping that it will make her look, hoping to see the sweet flustered look on her face after getting an eyeful of all your underwear and sex toys)

she doesn't, though-- she finds something else more interesting before she can get to your drawers.

"what's this box?" sevika calls from your room. you sigh.

"my new desk. i've been too lazy to build it, so it's just waiting there." you say.

"huh..." you hear.

it's the last thing you hear from her for thirty minutes.

at first you think she's gone back to snooping. then, you think maybe she went to the bathroom. then, you think she fell asleep in your bed.

when you finally put the food in the oven, you decide to go see what sevika's gotten herself up to.

you almost die when you find her on her hands and knees in your bedroom, building your nearly-complete desk.

she'd taken her sweater off, rolled her button up sleeves up her forearms. her tongue is sticking out of her mouth, her eyes focused on the instructions, and her muscles are flexing as she screws two pieces together.

you must make a noise. you must whimper or gasp or something, because sevika's head flies up a second later to look at you.

"what? did you want it in the living room instead?" she asks. you just blink, gulp, then try to speak.

"uh... this is fine. y-you didn't have to--"

"fuck off, you're cooking, it's the least i can do." sevika says.

(the food ends up getting burnt that night, because you park your ass on your bed and watch sevika finish your desk-- not hearing the oven beep because you were too focused on her arms.)

she figures out your appreciation for her handiness about the same time that you guys start living together-- both of you moving to a new apartment.

you aren't sure what tipped her off-- the time you tripped and broke all the ceramic dishes you were carrying into the apartment when you got distracted gawking at sevika as she fiddled with the garbage disposal in just a wife beater; the time you spent an uninterrupted hour watching her install a towel hangers in the bathroom; ...maybe it was the time you made her fuck you after changing the oil on your car-- her hands leaving streaks of dirt and grime on your body as her tongue worked against your cunt...

either way, she figured it out pretty quick.

and now, she tells you each time she's going to be doing any kind of handy work.

last weekend she built a bookshelf. you were supposed to help, to read the instructions for her, but you were way too distracted ogling her to read.

the second she was done, before she could even place anything on the shelves, you dragged her to the bedroom and got your hands on her.

she teases you about it relentlessly.

"this is doing it for you? really?" she asks from the top of the ladder where she's changing a lightbulb. you giggle and shrug.

"it's a pretty good view of your ass from down here. and it's hot that you're so handy." you say, your hands stabilizing the ladder for her.

"it's a lightbulb, babe."

"just take the win, sevika." you say.

she cackles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai