#will get to it when i can grab a moment to just sit down and tell you things

[p0orbaby]

if you’re still doing blurbs could you do one with alexia where she’s dating a doctor who has a very busy schedule, and alexia has a concussion in the training and gors to the hospital, and alexia sends a message to reader telling about it but r doesn’t see and when shes going to take care of the next patient it’s alexia? lmao or maybe alexia and r have a daughter and her daughter gets injured and shes the next patient and r goes feral about it idk

i changed the injury but i hope you still like it !

-

The shift is hell, as usual. You’re striding through corridors, flicking through paperwork and half-listening to one of the interns ramble about a patient they’re struggling to diagnose. Something about abdominal pain and “maybe a foreign object ingestion?” You nod distractedly, mentally filing it under deal with later.

“Just send them for imaging,” you say, not breaking your stride. “And next time, don’t say ‘foreign object’ like you’re narrating a true crime documentary. It’s unsettling”

The intern stammers out a response, but you’re already waving them off. “You’ll be fine. Go. Be great or something.” Another day, another long list of problems, it seems. You let yourself drift into autopilot, the professional rhythm of your job taking over as you stride towards the cubicle and pull back the curtain.

“Hi, I’m Dr Putellas,” you begin, still not looking up. “What seems to be—”

“¿Estás bromeando?”

You freeze. Your grip on the clipboard tightens, and your heart drops into your stomach because that voice, that exasperated, honey-warm, decidedly unimpressed voice, belongs to your wife.

Your injured wife, apparently.

“Alexia?” you blurt, snapping your head up to find her sitting on the exam table, her left leg stretched out in front of her, an ice pack balanced precariously on her knee.

She doesn’t look happy.

“Hola, cariño,” she says, dry as dust. “Fancy seeing you here”

For a moment, all you can do is stare, caught between disbelief and irritation. “What—what happened? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did call you,” she replies, gesturing to her phone sitting next to her on the table. “Several times. Apparently, you’re very busy and important”

Your stomach twists with guilt as you instinctively check your phone. Sure enough, three missed calls from Alexia. You curse under your breath, shoving it back into your pocket and stepping closer.

“Are you okay?” you ask, switching instantly from doctor mode to wife mode. “What happened? Is it bad? Why didn’t someone—”

“Relax, doctor,” Alexia interrupts, lifting her free hand to stop your avalanche of questions. “It’s not that bad. Just a tackle gone wrong at training”

You glance at the ice pack, then at her knee, which looks swollen but not grotesque. “Define ‘not that bad.’ Can you move it?”

Alexia sighs like you’re overreacting and flexes her leg a little, wincing but managing. “See? It’s fine. Probably just a sprain”

“Sprains don’t feel fine,” you mutter, already pulling on gloves and grabbing your supplies. You kneel down, gently pressing around her knee, watching her face for any reaction.

“Your hands are cold,” she says, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s trying not to smile.

“Your knee is swollen,” you counter.

“Touché”

You’re quiet for a moment, focused on the task. The swelling isn’t as bad as you feared, but it’s enough to set off every alarm in your mind. You sit back on your heels, exhaling slowly.

“You need imaging,” you say firmly. “Just to be safe”

“Of course I do,” she replies, her tone light but her eyes softening. “Because I’m married to the most thorough doctor in this hospital”

“Don’t flirt with me right now,” you say, though your lips twitch in a betrayed smile. “You scared me”

Her expression softens further, and she reaches out, brushing her fingers against your cheek. “Lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean to”

You close your eyes briefly, leaning into her touch. Then, with a deep breath, you stand up, trying to refocus.

“Alright,” you say briskly, grabbing the chart again. “Let’s get you x-rayed and figure out what’s going on. And after that, you’re resting. No arguing.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Alexia says, her smile turning mischievous. “But I might need some help resting”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Careful, Putellas. I can still make you wait for a nurse”

“Please.” She gestures around dramatically. “You’d never leave me at the mercy of hospital food”

“Not unless you keep up that attitude,” you mutter, but your heart is already lighter.

You press a quick kiss to her temple before heading for the door. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere”

“Where would I go?” she calls after you, gesturing to her knee.

[inthedarknessofnight]

Thinking about struggling musician Eddie who makes a living singing and playing guitar in a Metallica tribute band.

Thinking about bartender Steve who thinks tribute bands are the cringiest, most insufferable things to ever exist.

Thinking about Robin, his coworker, who made a bet on the very first day of their new job that Steve would eventually hook up with someone from a tribute band.

And the thing is, he almost makes it. Three years and he’s got a completely clean track record. Well, at least until the night some random Metallica cover band’s frontman has Steve questioning his sanity from the moment he sets foot on stage. Because Steve is mesmerized. By the way his lithe figure moves under the bright stage lights. By the way his fingers slide deftly along the neck of his guitar. By the way his voice permeates the room, filling the air to the point where Steve thinks he must be breathing the music into his lungs. And then, the motherfucker has the audacity to take off shirt his mid-performance, putting on display a well-curated collection of tattoos. Steve feels like an ancient deity has descended from the heavens and decided to play fucking Metallica, on a fucking Tuesday, in the shittiest fucking bar in all of Inianapolis. Well and truly distracted by the action on stage, Steve doesn’t register the glass slipping slowly out of his grasp, until the damn thing has hit the floor and broken into a thousand pieces. When he turns to examine the mess, Robin is already there, broom in hand.

“You might wanna think about closing that mouth, dingus. I don’t think you drooling all over this pristine countertop is good for business,” she says with barely contained laughter, quickly sweeping the shards into the dustpan.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he retorts, rolling his eyes, suddenly very aware of just how much he was staring. Instinctively, Steve shakes his hand to drive away the haze, grabs a new glass, and tries his best to focus on the task at hand.

It isn’t until the final number of the evening that Steve’s resolve truly crumbles. He’s all but managed to tune out the goings-on around him, which is why he nearly has a heart attack when he suddenly finds himself face to face with the beam coming straight from the main spotlight.

“Can we- Yes. Perfect. There he is,” says a low voice coming from the very center of the stage, followed by a cacophony of loud cheers.

And… Oh no.

“What the-,” he mutters, a hand flying up to shield his eyes from the blinding light. That’s when he sees him.

“Hey, pretty boy behind the bar. Get me some whiskey up here on this stage, will you?”

And Steve is so so so incredibly fucked.

He stares dumbly for a few seconds. Having seemingly lost any and all ability to think independently, Steve brain shifts into autopilot, causing him to grab the full bottle of Jack sitting on the shelf behind him, stroll towards the stage as if possessed, accompanied by the sound of cheering, which only grows louder with every step he takes. He climbs the steps leading onto the stage. As soon as he reaches the top, he finds himself face to face with…

He’s so close. For a brief moment, Steve wonders if he knew prior to this moment that a person can be this beautiful. They’re chest to chest. The guy is ducking his head to whisper something to Steve, his breath hitting the sensitive spot just below the ear as he does so.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, his like voice smoke, and milk, and honey, and all things Steve wants to breathe in, and drink, and savor. He plucks the bottle from Steve’s hand, ringed fingers grazing his.

He winks at Steve as he takes a few steps backwards, a devilish smile playing on his lips. Then, without breaking eye contact, he tips his head back, opens his mouth, and begins pouring the amber liquid until it spills over he edges, running down his neck and the length of his torso. After what feels like hours to Steve, the guy finally swallows the remnants of the drinking in his mouth, immediately leveling Steve with a dark gaze.

“Now you.”

Positively transfixed, Steve realizes a little too late that he has, in fact, missed his window to flee, and is headed head-first for whatever public humiliation the guy has in store for him. A strong, sure hand grips the back of his neck, long fingers tangling into the hair at the nape, tugging ever so slightly.

“Open.”

It’s not gentle. It’s a thing of lust. A command. Steve feels it in his bones. And he can’t look away. His body is not his own when he gives into the pull of the musician’s hand, his jaw going lax, mouth automatically falling open. The guy brings the bottle up to Steve’s mouth, pouring in a generous amount. Before Steve even gets the chance to swallow the liquid already burning its way down his throat, the bottle is being shoved rougly into his hand, the guy bringing his other hand up once again, only to press the palm under Steve’s chin, forcing his mouth closed. Forcing him to swallow. Steve nearly chokes.

“Good boy,” he says with a wicked grin, before pushing a spluttering, coughing Steve back in the direction of the stairs, causing him to nearly topple off the stage. The guy laughs maniacally into his microphone and the crowd goes wild, the drummer already counting them into the final song.

Still bewildered and absolutely dumbfounded by whatever just happened to him on that stage, Steve chances one last glance in the singer’s direction as he descends the stairs.

This time, however, he isn’t met with a sultry, dark look, or one of the guy’s infamous mischievous grins. Instead, he finds a pair of soft brown eyes staring back at him, and plush pink lips curved into the dopiest, most endearing smile Steve has ever seen.

…

By the end of the night, Steve has found the love of his life and Robin is collecting money from nearly every employee at the bar, sporting a smug, I-told-you-so expression on her face.

[rispwr]

Number one girl ・❥・J.JK (Fluff)

pairings : jungkook x afab! reader

genre : frienemies2??, established relationship, fluff, slight angst, enemies in public, bsfs in secret.

sypnosis : what's more confusing than math? your feelings for a man you don't like but you don't hate.

content : student council vp! reader, playfuckboy! jk, bets, ciggarettes, alcohol, parties, club, jungkook map of the soul persona era, no smut just plot and fluff, misunderstanding.

word count : 14,4k

music rec : number one girl by rose, if you want to by beabadoobee, do i wanna know by arctic monkeys, number 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys.

It was 9 PM, And Jungkook had shown up at my door earlier, carrying my favorite food, with a grin on his face. now i was wrapped securely in his arms.

My legs were draped over his lap, and my head rested against his chest, As his hands moved lazily through my hair, his fingertips tracing soft patterns on my scalp. His voice, low, hummed a tune I didn't recognize but found comfort in.

"Kook?" I murmured, my voice muffled against his chest.

"Hmm?" His response was gentle, paired with the subtle vibration of his voice as he kept humming.

I lifted my head, finally meeting his gaze. His dark eyes softened as he looked down at me, his lips curving into a slight smile as his hand continued its soothing motion through my hair.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, my voice teasingly light. "...For dessert?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. "You want ice cream?" he guessed, amusement flickering in his tone.

I nodded quickly, the excitement bubbling up and escaping in the form of a wide grin. He chuckled softly at my enthusiasm. "Alright," he said with a soft laugh, his hand leaving my hair briefly to tap my nose.

"So, do you wanna let go of me so we can get some?" His voice was playful, his smile knowing.

I raised an eyebrow, feigning sarcasm. "Let me enjoy this moment, Jungkook," I replied dramatically. "When you're not being a moody girl on her period for once."

His laugh was warm, filling the space between us as he pulled me closer, his arms tightening around me. "A moody girl, huh?" he teased, his lips brushing the top of my head as he spoke.

I groaned loudly, burying my face back into his chest. "Kookkkk!!" I squealed, my voice muffled by his hoodie.

That's when it started. His hands, once gentle and soft, suddenly moved to tickle my sides. My laughter erupted uncontrollably, as I wriggled in his grip, trying and failing to escape.

"Stop! Jungkook!" I cried between gasps of laughter, my hands slapping against his biceps in a weak attempt at resistance.

But he only laughed harder, his grip firm as he leaned over me, effectively pinning me beneath him. and soon I was sprawled out on the bed, breathless and flushed.

He paused then, hovering over me with a grin, his dark hair falling into his eyes. For a moment, everything stopped. His laughter faded. His gaze locked with mine.

It was the way his eyes softened as they roamed over my face, the way his breath hitched ever so slightly.

He leaned in just a fraction closer, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something.

But then, as quickly as the moment came, it was gone.

"Uh, okay," he blurted, his voice an octave higher than usual as he broke the silence. "Let's go?"

The sudden awkwardness was almost comical. He scrambled off me, sitting up on the bed and rubbing the back of his neck.

I stayed where I was, still lying on my back, staring up at the ceiling in stunned silence. My heartbeat thundered in my chest, and I pressed a hand against it as if that would calm the storm raging inside me.

Jungkook stood then, adjusting his hoodie as he avoided my gaze. "So... you wanna get up and wear a bra so we can go out, hun?"

The teasing lilt in his voice snapped me out of my daze.

"Jeon Jungkook!" I gasped, sitting up and grabbing the nearest pillow. I hurled it at him with all the strength I could muster, but he dodged it effortlessly, his laughter filling the room once again.

"Shut up!" I yelled, my face heating as I scrambled to sit properly on the bed.

his laughter echoing down the hallway as he left the room.

Once he was gone, the silence returned, and I was left alone with my thoughts. My hand instinctively moved to my chest, pressing against the spot where my heart still raced.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, closing my eyes.

I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away as I climbed out of bed, grabbing a hoodie to throw over my shirt. The last thing I needed was to overthink this.

Jungkook was just... Jungkook.

Right?

I sighed, making my way out of the room to find him. He was waiting for me at the door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, that signature grin plastered across his face.

"Ready?" he asked, his tone light and teasing as always.

I nodded, slipping into my shoes as he held the door open for me.

----

we climbed into his car. The quiet hum of the engine filled the silence as he pulled out of the driveway, his hands gripping the steering wheel with casual ease.

"You're not gonna make me pick the playlist, are you?" I asked, settling into my seat and glancing at him.

"Nah, I've got us covered," he said, already queuing up a playlist on his phone. Moments later, our favorite song filled the car, and he started tapping the steering wheel to the beat.

Kiss me Kiss me with your eyes closed Whisper that your heart shows

I couldn't help but laugh as he began singing. well, shouting? the lyrics dramatically.

Hold me, I'm your bunny

Tell me I'm not funny

"Are you auditioning for something, Jungkook?" I teased, watching as he turned to give me an exaggerated wink before returning his focus to the road.

"Maybe. Think I've got a chance?" he asked, his tone light but his grin mischievous.

"Only if they're looking for someone to scare the judges away," I quipped.

He gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Wow. Betrayed by my own princess passenger."

---

We ordered our ice cream quickly, opting to eat in the car rather than sitting outside in the chilly night air.

The car was warm and cozy as we sat, our cones in hand. Jungkook took an exaggerated lick of his ice cream, his eyes narrowing at me like he was waiting for me to mess up somehow.

"What?" I asked, taking a cautious bite of my own.

"You've got..." He gestured vaguely to my face, his expression far too smug for my liking.

"Where?" I asked, swiping at my cheek.

"Nope, not there."

I frowned, trying again, but his grin only widened.

"Here, let me help," he said, leaning across the console. Before I could protest, he swiped his thumb across my cheek, his touch light and fleeting. Then, with a grin, he licked the ice cream off his thumb.

"Jungkook!" I gasped, shoving him lightly as heat rushed to my face.

"What? I was just helping!" he said, his voice dripping with fake innocence.

I tried to glare at him, but the laughter bubbling out of me betrayed my attempt. "You're impossible."

"And you're pretty," he shot back, his tone teasing but his eyes soft.

At some point, Jungkook leaned back in his seat, turning to look at me with an unreadable expression.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head with a small smile. "Just... i like the ice cream"

"Yeah," I said softly, meeting his gaze. "Me too."

The ride back was quieter. His hand rested casually on the gear shift, and every now and then, his fingers would brush against mine. Neither of us moved away.

-----

As I made my way to the student council meeting, I caught sight of him. Jeon Jungkook.

He was leaning casually against the lockers, surrounded by his usual group of guys. His hair was a mess in that perfect, lazy way, and he had that smirk on his face. the one that made the girls around him giggle like he was some kind of god.

I kept walking, my head held high, trying not to engage. We had an unspoken agreement, after all: no interaction in public. Jungkook made it crystal clear he didn't want to ruin his reputation by being seen talking to me. Not that I cared.

The less drama in my life, the better.

Still, I couldn't help but hate the way he gave me mixed signals when we were alone, only to act like a complete stranger in public.

"You good, Y/N?" one of the student council members, Hana, asked as she passed by me.

I nodded quickly, adjusting my glasses as I brushed past her. "Yeah, just heading to the meeting."

"Cool, see you there!"

As she disappeared into the crowd, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw Jakay's name pop up on my screen.

Jakay: Yo nerd, wanna go out later?

I rolled my eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

You: I have a meeting with the student council.

Jakay: Picking them over me, huh?

You: Wouldn't even pick you in a room full of your clones.

There was a pause before his reply came through.

Jakay: Ouch :(

Jakay: Can we at least just FT?

You: You tryna get in my pants or something?

Jakay: Want me to?

I stopped in the middle of the hallway, blinking at my screen. For someone who was usually all jokes, he had a way of toeing the line between playful and annoying.

You: Ew. I'm blocking you.

Jakay: LMFAOOO

Smirking to myself, I quickly blocked his number and tucked my phone back into my pocket.

A few seconds later, another buzz.

Jakay: Wait.

Jakay: You actually blocked me?!!

Not Delivered

Jakay: 💔💔

I stifled a laugh, shaking my head as I made my way to the student council room.

-----

The notifications on my phone lit up as I opened the chat.

Jakay: Can I now finally please come over? Jakay: Pretty please?

Rolling my eyes, I typed back.

Me: Better show up with ice cream.

The reply was immediate.

Jakay: Mint?

Me: You know it. Me: You can go to my place first. You have the key. Clean my table, pleaseee.

Jakay: Alrightt.

Satisfied, I locked my phone and stuffed it back into my pocket. The corner of my lips twitched upward, but before I could dwell on the ridiculousness of my on-and-off dynamic with Jungkook, Namjoon's familiar voice broke through my thoughts.

"Heyyyy," he said, slinging his arm casually over my shoulder as he caught up to me.

"What's up, Joon?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at his sudden appearance.

"Let me walk you home, hm?" he offered with a grin.

I chuckled, shaking my head but nodding in agreement. "Alright, alright."

As we walked along the street, a nearby cafe caught my attention.

"Wait," I said, pausing mid-step. "I'll just grab some coffee." I pointed toward the cozy cafe.

Namjoon followed me inside as I walked straight to the counter.

"brewed coffee and an iced americano, all grande" I told the cashier confidently.

Namjoon blinked in surprise. "Oh, I don't want any—"

"Not for you, bro," I interrupted, laughing as I turned to smirk at him.

He sighed dramatically. "Dang. Cold-hearted."

I rolled my eyes playfully and paid for the drinks. While we waited, Namjoon shifted my bag and books from one hand to the other, balancing the weight. I finally collected the drinks, gripping both cups carefully, while Namjoon resumed his self-proclaimed role as my porter.

"Walked you home, carried your stuff, and still didn't get anything," he muttered under his breath, though his playful tone made me laugh.

We arrived outside my apartment building, and I juggled the drinks to pull out my keys. Unlocking the door, I held it open for Namjoon to step inside.

"Just put my bag on the coffee table, thanks," I said, heading toward the kitchen to set the drinks down.

"Sure thing," Namjoon replied, stepping further into the apartment.

As I turned back around, my breath caught in my throat. Standing in the hallway was Jungkook. Shirtless. A towel hung low on his hips, and droplets of water slid down his chest, his damp hair clinging to his forehead. He looked up, catching my stare, and the corner of his mouth curved into a mischievous grin.

"Done staring?" he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

I snapped out of it, my cheeks heating. "Oh, shut up, Jungkook," I shot back, my tone sharper than I intended.

Jungkook chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he reached up to rake a hand through his wet hair. The way he was clearly enjoying my flustered reaction only made me more annoyed—or was it embarrassed?

Behind me, Namjoon cleared his throat loudly.

"Ooookayy... so, I'm..." He glanced between Jungkook and me, his brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and realization. "Going?" he said, dragging the word out awkwardly.

Before I could even think of a response, Namjoon awkwardly laughed and moved toward the door.

"Thanks for walking me home!" I called after him, trying to smooth over the awkwardness as I followed him to the door.

"Yeah, uh, no problem. See you around!" Namjoon waved briefly before disappearing into the hallway.

I shut the door and turned to face Jungkook, who was now leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, his expression smug.

"Friends, huh?" he said, his tone teasing but with an edge of something deeper

I crossed my arms, tilting my head with a smirk. "Why? Jealous?" I teased, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook.

His confidence faltered for a split second, and his face flushed a telltale shade of pink. "Why would I be?" he shot back, but the defensive edge in his tone only made me grin wider.

I took a step forward, then another, closing the space between us until we were just inches apart. His eyes widened slightly, flicking between mine, his breath hitching as if he wasn't sure what was coming next.

"So close, Jungkook," I murmured, just loud enough for him to hear, leaning in as if to kiss him but stopping short. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his body stiff as a board.

"There's an iced americano for you," I whispered against his ear, my voice soft and teasing.

I heard his sharp intake of breath as I pulled back, grinning at his completely stunned expression. His face was a perfect mix of confusion and embarrassment, his lips slightly parted as if he were about to say something but couldn't find the words.

Turning on my heel, I burst out laughing, leaving him standing there, flustered and dumbfounded.

"Also, go wear some clothes!" I yelled over my shoulder as I walked to the counter.

Grabbing my iced white mocha, I took a long sip, savoring the sweetness while sneaking a glance at Jungkook from the corner of my eye.

He was still frozen in place, his hand running through his wet hair as he muttered something under his breath. Then, finally, he stormed off toward the bedroom, grumbling loud enough for me to hear.

"Unbelievable," he huffed, though the faint smile tugging at his lips didn't go unnoticed.

---

Jungkook disappeared into my room, grumbling something under his breath. I chuckled to myself as I heard him rifling through drawers. He always left a stash of clothes here, sweats, shirts, and sometimes even socks, as if this was his second home. I didn't mind. It just meant I got to see him looking effortlessly cozy, even when I wasn't ready for the effect it had on me.

A few minutes later, he emerged, now dressed in gray sweats and a loose black t-shirt. His damp hair still clung to his forehead in soft waves, and he ran a hand through it as he joined me in the kitchen. Without a word, he plopped onto the stool beside me, his elbow propped on the counter as he reached for my brewed coffee

"Touch it and you're dead," I warned, pulling the drink just out of his reach.

He smirked but pulled back, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"So," he said, leaning against the counter. "How was your student council meeting?"

I groaned at the question, resting my head on my hand. "The same. Boring and stressful. We have so many projects to focus on for the school. I don't know if I can even do it anymore."

I punctuated my complaint with a loud slurp of my iced white mocha.

Jungkook frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You need sleep. And you're definitely not getting any if you keep drinking that," he pointed out, gesturing to the drink I'd been clinging to for dear life.

I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze. "Would you rather this be vodka or... coffee?"

He hesitated for a moment before muttering, "Coffee..."

"Good choice," I teased, taking another sip.

"But seriously," I added, "I've got a presentation and essays due, like, all at once. My calendar's booked solid this month." I let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing my temples. "Might have to block you again to stop you from bothering me."

Jungkook's lips twitched in amusement, but he rolled his eyes. "You know you could just mute me, right? That's a thing."

I shook my head, leaning closer to him with a grin. "That would be too boring. I like being spammed with notifications of a play-fuckboy begging me to unblock him."

As if to punctuate my point, I reached out and booped his nose lightly with my finger.

He scrunched his nose, laughing softly. "You're so annoying, you know that?"

"That's rich, coming from you," I shot back.

Jungkook paused for a moment, his expression shifting slightly. "Hey, Y/N?"

"Hmm?" I hummed, turning to look at him.

"Nothing," he said quickly, glancing away as if he'd thought better of whatever he wanted to say.

I tilted my head, frowning slightly. "What's with you? Are you sick or something?"

"No," he muttered, waving off my question.

"Argh!" I groaned, pushing myself up from the stool dramatically. "I don't wanna be here anymore."

But as I stood, the world tilted abruptly. My legs wobbled, and I felt the ground rush up toward me.

"Y/N!" Jungkook was at my side in an instant, his arms steadying me before I could hit the floor.

"Fuck, are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry as he gripped my shoulders.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, trying to shrug him off. "Just lost my balance."

"You're not fine," he snapped, his jaw tightening.

"I just need to lie down for a bit—"

"Fuck no," he muttered, cutting me off. Before I could protest, he scooped me up in one swift motion, holding me in his arms like I weighed nothing.

"Jungkook, put me down!" I squealed, flailing in his grip, but he only tightened his hold.

"Nope," he said firmly, carrying me toward the door. "You're going to the doctor."

"You're overreacting!" I whined, kicking my legs weakly.

"And you're underreacting!" he shot back, his voice a mixture of frustration and concern.

The door swung open, and Jungkook carried me into the hallway. I buried my face in his chest, mortified as neighbors peeked out of their doors to see what the commotion was.

"Put me down! People are staring!" I hissed, trying to squirm out of his arms.

"Let them stare," he said, completely unfazed as he made his way to the elevator.

By the time we reached his car, I had resigned myself to my fate, crossing my arms with a pout as he settled me into the passenger seat.

"You're ridiculous," I muttered as he buckled me in.

"Yeah? And you're stubborn," he shot back, closing the door and jogging around to the driver's side.

The drive to the clinic was filled with silence. Jungkook's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw set in a way that he was still annoyed or worried.

"You don't have to do this, you know," I said, breaking the silence.

He glanced at me briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. "Someone has to."

The simple statement sent a strange warmth through my chest, and I found myself biting back a smile.

--

At the clinic, Jungkook still refused to let me walk, carrying me inside despite my protests. The doctor confirmed it was nothing serious just exhaustion, stress and low blood sugar.

"You need to take care of yourself," he scolded as we left the clinic. "Eat something, sleep more, and stop living on caffeine and stress."

"Okay, dad," I teased, earning a glare.

--

Back at the apartment, Jungkook carried me inside again, this time depositing me gently on the couch.

"Stay," he ordered, pointing at me like I was a misbehaving puppy.

"I'm not a dog," I muttered, but I stayed put, too tired to argue.

He disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a plate of "real food" and a glass of orange juice, not just your usual coke and apple.

"Eat," he said, setting it in front of me.

I raised an eyebrow but obeyed, taking a bite.

Satisfied, he flopped onto the other end of the couch, watching me closely.

"Feel better?" he asked after a while.

"Yeah," I admitted, avoiding his gaze.

"Good girl."

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "I'll be busy tomorrow," he said casually.

My brows furrowed. "Why? Gonna be busy fucking other girls?" I teased, my voice dripping with bitterness (jealousy) that I didn't even try to hide.

He straightened, tilting his head as he looked at me. "You really think that's all I do?"

"You seem to," I replied, averting my eyes and shrugging like it didn't bother me.

"For your information," he said, leaning forward slightly, "I haven't fucked anyone in four months."

"Wow, I'll give you a reward for that," I shot back sarcastically, though my heart was unexpectedly beating a little faster.

"Come on, Y/N," he sighed.

I looked up, surprised to see him sliding off his chair and kneeling on the floor in front of me. His gaze was soft but insistent, his presence filling the space between us.

"I'll be in Busan tomorrow," he said, his voice quieter now. "It's my mom's birthday."

"Oh," I said simply, unsure where this was going.

"Do you want to come?" he asked.

"Why?" I blurted out, narrowing my eyes at him.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, his voice steady but slightly unsure. "I wanna... introduce you to her."

My chest tightened at his words, and for a moment, I was completely thrown off. He wanted me to meet his mom? This wasn't something we did. This wasn't how we were supposed to be.

"Okay," I heard myself say before I could think twice.

Jungkook blinked, clearly surprised. "But you said you're fully booked this month," he reminded me.

"I'll make time and clear it up for you," I said, the words leaving my mouth without a single hesitation.

My own reply startled me. Why was I saying this? Why was I rearranging my schedule for him, of all people? He was just a... friend. Right?

"Alright," he said after a moment, a smile spreading across his face. "Pack up early."

Before I could respond, he suddenly stood and scooped me up in his arms again.

"What the fuck, Jeon Jungkook," I grumbled, glaring at him, though the warmth of his arms made it impossible to push him away.

"Relax," he said, laughing softly as he carried me to my room. He pushed the door open with his foot and stepped inside.

With surprising gentleness, he laid me down on the bed and tucked the blanket around me, his hands lingering for a second longer than necessary.

"I'll be here in a sec," he said, his voice softer now. "I'm just gonna clean up the mess in our kitchen."

He stood, giving me one last glance before heading out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

I stared at the ceiling, my heart thudding in my chest as the word "our" echoed in my mind.

Our kitchen.

The casual way he said it sent my stomach into a loop. It shouldn't have meant anything. It was probably just a slip of the tongue. But still, the idea of something shared between us, of an "our" instead of a "yours" or "mine," made my thoughts spiral.

This wasn't normal. None of this was. The teasing, the way he made himself so comfortable in my space, the way I let him take care of me even when I insisted I didn't need it. it all blurred the line of what we were supposed to be.

Why did I agree to go to Busan with him? Why was I clearing my schedule for him?

"Get a grip, Y/N," I muttered to myself, pressing my palms against my heated cheeks.

I groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head. This was going to be a long night.

True to his word, Jungkook returned a little while later. I heard the faint creak of the door as he pushed it open, followed by the soft sound of his footsteps approaching the bed.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice soft and tentative.

I peeked out from under the blanket, squinting at him in the dim light. His hair was now dry, now curling slightly at the edges, and the loose shirt he wore made him look almost boyish.

"The kitchen's clean," he said, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweats.

"Good," I muttered, my voice muffled by the pillow.

He chuckled, the sound warm and low, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And you're a pain in the ass," I shot back, though there was no real bite in my tone.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, the quiet settling around us. His presence was grounding, even if I hated admitting it.

"Want me to go home, or...?" he asked, his voice trailing off as if unsure how to finish the sentence.

I blinked at him, surprised by the question. Did I want him to leave?

"No," I said softly.

His brows lifted slightly, and he tilted his head. "You sure? I can just crash on the couch."

"Sleep here," I said quickly, tugging at his arm. "On the bed with me."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Still a brat, huh?"

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Your point?"

He chuckled softly, the sound almost affectionate, as he gave in. "Alright, alright. Scoot over."

I shuffled to the side of the bed, watching as he slid in beside me. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and the sudden closeness of him made my heart race.

Jungkook turned to face me, propping his head up on one hand. His other hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face.

"You're comfortable with this?" he asked, his voice low and almost hesitant.

I nodded, not trusting my voice to sound steady.

"Alright," he said again, his lips quirking up in a small smile as he laid back, pulling me against him.

I froze for a moment as his arms wrapped around me, but the warmth of his embrace melted my hesitation. His hand found its way into my hair, his fingers threading through the strands in a soothing rhythm.

"Better?" he asked softly, his breath warm against my temple.

"Yeah," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek, the quiet sound of his breathing, and the soft touch of his hand in my hair lulled me into a state of calm I hadn't felt in days.

"You're dangerous," I mumbled sleepily.

"Hmm?" he hummed, his fingers pausing for a moment before continuing their gentle movements.

"You make me feel..." my words slurred as i began to fall asleep.

----

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the blinds. I was already up, moving quietly as I packed for the three-day trip to Busan. I still didn't fully understand why I'd agreed to go or how I had so effortlessly rearranged my schedule for him. But as I folded clothes into the suitcase, a small part of me felt... excited.

Behind me, the sound of shifting blankets broke the quiet. I glanced over to see Jungkook stirring, his eyes barely open as he propped himself up on one elbow.

He blinked a few times before his gaze landed on me. "You're pretty," he said, his morning voice raspy and warm, catching me completely off guard.

My face heated instantly, and I fumbled with a bottle of skincare I'd just picked up. "Morning," I muttered, turning to face him briefly.

"You should wear a shirt and get ready," I said quickly, trying to redirect the attention away from my flushed cheeks. My eyes betrayed me for a split second, darting to his biceps. a habit I'd tried and failed to curb. He always had this infuriating tendency to sleep shirtless, even when he wasn't alone.

He smirked, clearly noticing, but thankfully didn't say anything.

After we both finished getting ready, we grabbed our bags and headed out. His car was waiting for us in the lot, and I climbed into the passenger seat as Jungkook loaded the luggage into the trunk.

As he slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, he glanced at me. "What'd you tell them?" he asked, his tone casual.

I grinned, leaning back in my seat. "Told them I was sick. Showed them the doctor's letter."

He chuckled at that, his laugh soft and low.

"You're something else, hun," he said, shaking his head with an amused smile.

We drove in comfortable silence for a while, the hum of the engine and the faint sound of the radio filling the car. I found myself nervously picking at the hem of my shirt, my thoughts drifting to what lay ahead.

"So... is your mom..." I hesitated, glancing at him.

He raised an eyebrow, sparing me a curious look. "What?"

"Is she scary?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

"Why? You scared?" he teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Who wouldn't be?" I exclaimed, turning to face him fully. "It's my first time meeting her. First impressions last, you know?"

I slumped into my seat, crossing my arms as anxiety began to creep in.

Jungkook let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as he glanced at me. "My first impression of you was a scary, strict vice president," he teased.

"Strict?!" I exclaimed, reaching out to playfully slap his biceps.

"Very strict," he said, laughing again. "You wouldn't even let me cut in line for coffee at the canteen that one time."

"You were trying to skip!" I protested, though I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

"And you called me out in front of everyone."

"Because you deserved it!"

Jungkook shook his head, a grin still plastered on his face. "And now look at us. Guess first impressions aren't everything after all."

His words hung in the air for a moment.

Us

I looked out the window, my lips curving into a small smile.

"Guess not," I murmured.

I started to relax a little. Jungkook's ease behind the wheel and the familiar way he teased me made it harder to stay nervous.

"Do you think she'll like me?" I asked suddenly, my voice quieter this time.

Jungkook glanced at me, his expression gentler now. "Of course she will."

"You sound so sure," I said, biting my lip.

"Because I know her," he replied, his tone steady. "And I know you. You're... you're great, Y/N. She'll see that."

I blinked at him, caught off guard by his sincerity.

After what felt like an eternity of driving, we finally arrived in Busan. I stepped out of the car, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling in my stomach. I adjusted my shirt, suddenly hyperaware of every wrinkle and stray strand of hair.

Jungkook moved to the trunk, effortlessly grabbing our bags. His casual state only made me feel more out of place, my shyness creeping in.

"Mom! We're here!" Jungkook called out as we approached the house, his voice carrying warmth and familiarity as he rang the doorbell.

A moment later, the door swung open to reveal his mom. Her face lit up the second she saw him, and she pulled him into a tight hug.

"Jungkook, my son!" she exclaimed, ruffling his hair as he grumbled in protest, though his smile betrayed how much he didn't mind.

Then her attention turned to me. Her gaze softened, her kind eyes taking me in as she stepped forward.

"Hello, dear," she said, her tone gentle as she opened her arms and pulled me into a brief but warm hug.

"Hi, ma'am," I replied, smiling shyly as I straightened up.

"Call me Mom, dear," she said, patting my shoulder affectionately, her smile widening as if I'd already won her over.

The unexpected kindness made me relax a little. "Okay, Mom," I said softly, smiling back.

"Perfect," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home."

Jungkook led the way as we stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping us. It was cozy, with soft lighting and family photos lining the walls. The faint scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, making my nerves ease just a bit more.

Jungkook set the bags down by the stairs and glanced back at me, offering a reassuring smile. "See? Nothing to be scared of."

His mom chuckled, catching his words. "What's this? Were you nervous to meet me?" she teased, her tone lighthearted as she glanced at me.

I laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck. "Maybe a little. First impressions and all..."

"Well, let me tell you," she said, reaching out to squeeze my hand gently, "you're doing just fine."

Jungkook smirked at me, clearly enjoying my flustered state, and I shot him a subtle glare.

"Jungkook, why don't you bring your stuff upstairs while I finish up lunch?" his mom suggested, already heading toward the kitchen.

"Will do," he said, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the stairs before I could protest.

Jungkook led me through the house, pointing out random things like the cozy balcony view of the ocean. Then he stopped outside a door and pushed it open, revealing what I assume was his old bedroom.

"This is where I used to sneak out from," he said with a mischievous grin, pointing to the balcony door on the far side of the room.

"Why am I not surprised?" I teased, crossing my arms as I leaned against the doorway.

"You shouldn't be," he said, laughing softly as he walked into the room.

The space was simple but cozy, with warm wooden furniture, a few posters still tacked to the walls, and a bed that took up most of the space.

"Guess this is where we'll be staying," he said casually, tossing his duffel bag onto the bed.

"We?" I echoed, my eyebrows shooting up.

He turned to look at me, clearly amused by my surprise. "What? You scared to share a room with me?"

I rolled my eyes, though I could feel heat creeping up my neck. "Just don't hog the bed," I muttered, stepping into the room and setting my bag down.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning against the wall with his hands stuffed into his pockets. "See? Not so bad, right?"

"Not bad at all," I admitted, glancing around the room before my eyes landed on the balcony door again.

The sound of his voice brought my attention back to him. "She likes you," he said suddenly, his tone softer now.

I blinked, caught off guard by the statement. "How can you tell?"

"Because I know her," he said simply, his gaze meeting mine. "She wouldn't be this warm if she didn't."

A warmth spread through my chest at his words, and I found myself smiling despite the lingering nerves.

"Come on," he said, pushing off the wall. "Let's go help before she thinks I'm useless again."

Back in the kitchen, his mom was setting the table, the smell of homemade food filling the air.

"Perfect timing! Jungkook, you can put these on the table," she said, handing him a tray of side dishes.

"And Y/N, dear, could you help me with the soup?"

"Of course," I said, moving to the stove to carry the pot she pointed to.

As we worked together, Jungkook chimed in with little jokes and playful comments, earning a mix of laughs and exasperated eye rolls from his mom.

"Still the same troublemaker," she said, shaking her head fondly.

"Some things never change," I teased, glancing at Jungkook, who grinned shamelessly.

Once everything was ready, we all sat down to eat. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and stories of Jungkook's childhood. His mom had an endless supply of embarrassing anecdotes, and I couldn't stop laughing at the way Jungkook tried to defend himself, his ears turning pink as she recounted his antics.

"Mom, stop," he groaned, burying his face in his hands after the third story about him crying over a lost toy at the beach.

"Oh, don't be dramatic," she said, waving him off. "Y/N should know what she's getting into if she's spending time with you."

I couldn't help but laugh, feeling more comfortable with each passing minute.

After lunch, Jungkook helped clean up while his mom and I chatted at the table. She asked me about school, my family, and my interests, her questions thoughtful but never intrusive.

By the time Jungkook joined us again, I felt like I'd known her for years.

"Alright, Mom," he said, stretching as he stood behind her chair. "I'm stealing Y/N for the rest of the day."

"Stealing her? She's right here!" she teased, turning to pat his hand.

He grinned. "We're gonna go check out the beach."

His mom smiled knowingly. "Go ahead. But don't let her get cold, Jungkook."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a playful salute, earning a laugh from both of us.

As we grabbed our jackets and headed out the door, I glanced back at his mom, who waved at us with a warm smile. For the first time that day, I felt a little less nervous.

-----

We stood at the edge of the beach, the cool breeze tousling my hair as I watched the waves crash gently against the shore. The sun was beginning to set.

Jungkook was standing a little farther away, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I used to come here whenever I felt sad," he said quietly, almost to himself. "It's really relaxing here."

I glanced at him, then back to the peaceful view. "It really is," I agreed, feeling the calmness of the place wash over me. It was the kind of tranquility I hadn't realized I needed until now.

Suddenly, Jungkook moved, taking his phone out of his pocket. "Stand there," he instructed, pointing to a spot near the water, a small smile on his face. "Let me take a picture of you."

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at the spot he pointed to. "Really?" I asked, trying to hide my smile. "You know I'm not exactly in the mood for a photo shoot."

"Just one picture," he insisted, grinning like he always did when he was being playful. "I promise it'll be a good one."

Reluctantly, I stepped into the spot he'd pointed out, the wind picking up and blowing my hair behind me. I couldn't help but smile, the feeling of the breeze and the soft sound of the waves putting me at ease.

Jungkook tapped the screen of his phone, taking the picture. "Perfect," he said, walking toward me as he looked at the photo. He glanced at me and smirked. "But, no posting this, okay? The school board might think I made an excuse to go out."

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "But you are," he teased, clearly enjoying getting under my skin.

I shot him a playful glare. "Shut up," I muttered, though I couldn't help but laugh.

"You know," I began, breaking the silence, "I only stay in Seoul to get away from my parents."

Jungkook looked over at me, eyebrows raised, clearly intrigued. "Why?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

I shifted my gaze toward the horizon, the vastness of the ocean making me feel smaller, but in a good way. "They always want me to be the first in everything," I vented, my words coming out faster than I expected. "Be like this, be like that... nothing I do is ever enough for them. It's always about achieving the next thing, being perfect. I don't know anymore," I finished, the words feeling heavier than I anticipated.

I let out a weak chuckle, trying to push the lump in my throat away. "I don't even know who I am sometimes."

Jungkook's gaze softened, and I could tell he was genuinely listening. But of course, he couldn't leave it without teasing me. "Is that why you're a nerd?" he asked with a playful tone, trying to lighten the mood.

I raised an eyebrow at him, rolling my eyes, but I played along. "Maybe," I said with a small smile, the tension in my chest easing just a little. "I was raised that way."

We both laughed, and it felt like the weight of everything had lifted, just for a moment. Maybe it was the beach, or maybe it was just being here with him,

We stayed there for a while, just sitting on the soft sand, the night sky above us twinkling with stars and for once, I felt at peace. We talked about things that felt too deep to share with anyone else

But eventually, the cool night air started to get to me, and I let out a small yawn. "We should go back. I'm sleepy," I said, stretching my arms and feeling the weight of the day catch up with me.

Jungkook nodded, standing up and offering his hand to help me up. "Alright," he replied, pulling me gently to my feet.

-----

 After cleaning up from dinner and spending hours chatting with his mom, Jungkook and I finally headed back to his room.

"You can take the bed," I said, trying to sound casual as I rummaged through my bag.

"So can you," Jungkook replied, his tone laced with amusement as he tossed his hoodie onto the chair.

I glanced up at him, narrowing my eyes. "Jungkook, it's your bed."

"And it's big enough for both of us," he said with a shrug, plopping down onto the mattress like he owned the place—which, technically, he did. "Unless you're worried about me hogging it."

"You do hog the bed," I muttered, crossing my arms.

He smirked, lying back against the pillows and stretching out his arms. "Guess we'll find out, won't we?"

I huffed, but deep down, the thought of sharing the bed with him wasn't nearly as daunting as it probably should've been. With a resigned sigh, I climbed onto one side of the bed, slipping under the blanket and keeping some space between us.

For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the wind outside and the soft creak of the mattress as Jungkook shifted to get comfortable.

"Comfortable?" he asked after a while, his voice low and warm in the dimly lit room.

"Yeah," I murmured, my back still turned to him.

But then I felt the bed shift again as he moved closer. His arm slipped around my waist, pulling me toward him.

"Kook," I whispered, my voice catching slightly. "If your mom comes in, she might get the wrong idea."

"I don't care," he said simply, his tone steady. His arms tightened around me, and I could feel the faint smile on his lips as his chin rested lightly against the top of my head.

I giggled softly, the sound muffled against his shirt.

"You're not funny," I muttered, though I didn't even think about pulling away.

"And you're funny?" he teased, his fingers finding their way into my hair. He began threading them gently through the strands, his touch soothing and familiar.

the next day

I became aware of a gentle touch against my face, soft and featherlight. His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering as if he were memorizing every detail.

When I finally opened my eyes, Jungkook's face was the first thing I saw. He was propped up on one elbow, his eyes warm and filled with a quiet fondness. His lips curved into a small, tender smile as he continued to study me.

"Morning," I said, my voice groggy with sleep as I let out a yawn, stretching my arms above my head.

"Morning," he replied softly, his tone almost teasing but still gentle.

I blinked at him, my brows furrowing slightly as my brain caught up with the moment. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, giving him a suspicious look.

His smile grew, but he didn't answer. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on mine, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners.

Flustered, I reached out and lightly smacked his arm. "Stop it," I muttered, my cheeks heating as I quickly sat up.

Jungkook laughed softly, his voice deep and husky from sleep. "What? I'm just admiring the view," he teased, his grin playful but still disarming.

"i hate you" I shot back, my face burning as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

I could feel his eyes following me as I made my way toward the bathroom, his quiet chuckle filling the room.

"Where are you running off to so fast?" he called out, his tone laced with amusement.

"To get away from you!" I shouted over my shoulder, though the smile tugging at my lips gave me away.

As soon as I closed the bathroom door behind me, I leaned against it, my hand pressed over my rapidly beating heart.

---

As we entered the dining room, my eyes were immediately drawn to someone new sitting at the table. Jungkook's brother, Ji-won, glanced up from his phone, his expression brightening when he saw us.

"Good morning," I said with a cheerful smile, adjusting my glasses as I stepped closer to the table.

Ji-won's gaze flickered between Jungkook and me, a teasing grin forming on his face. "Woah, you leave Busan for two years, and you already have a hot, smart girlfriend?"

I felt my cheeks flush at his words, but before I could respond, Jungkook waved his hand dismissively, his voice calm but firm.

"Oh no, she's just my friend. We're just very close," he said, pulling out a chair for himself and sitting down.

The words hit harder than they should have.

Just my friend.

I froze for a split second, forcing a polite smile as I took a seat at the table.

Just friends?

No way in hell "friends" did the things we did. No way they shared beds, whispered soft words at night, or looked at each other the way he looked at me this morning.

"Yeah, right," his mom chimed in, shaking her head with a knowing smile.

Before I could dwell on it further, she turned her attention to me. "Oh, Y/N dear, come here, eat up," she said warmly, handing me a plate piled high with food.

"Thank you, Mom," I said softly, trying to focus on the kindness in her voice rather than the pit forming in my stomach.

As I began eating, Jungkook's mom leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Does Jungkook feed you nice?" she asked, her tone playful.

I laughed, deciding to play along. "He doesn't even want to go to my favorite samgyupsal place," I said, pouting dramatically for effect.

"Hey!" Jungkook cut in, clearly flustered. "I buy you ice cream all the time!"

I raised an eyebrow, smirking at his weak defense. Before I could counter, his mom interjected, her laughter filling the room.

"Well, Kook, ice cream isn't very healthy, you know," she teased, shaking her head at him.

Jungkook crossed his arms, his lips forming a pout as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, if the princess wants it, she gets it," he muttered, feigning sulkiness.

The sight made me laugh softly, my earlier doubts momentarily pushed to the back of my mind.

"That's better," his mom said with a chuckle, patting his shoulder before turning her attention back to Ji-won.

I tried to pretend it didn't hurt.

Jungkook and his mom left for the supermarket, leaving me alone at the kitchen island with Ji-won. I had my laptop open, trying to focus on typing my speech for the foundation day, though my thoughts were a mess.

"So," Ji-won began, breaking the silence. "Do you like Jungkook?"

The question made me freeze, my fingers hovering over the keys. I took a moment, trying to gather myself, then resumed typing without looking at him.

"W-we're just friends," I said, the words feeling heavy as they left my lips.

Ji-won let out a low hum, clearly unconvinced. "Really? Because I don't think friends sleep on the same bed and cuddle each other to sleep... naked."

I gasped, my head whipping toward him. "We do not sleep naked!"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. "Saw you both last night. Jungkook was... shirtless, and you—"

Before he could finish, I cut him off. "No! I was wearing a tank top, and Jungkook was... shirtless." My voice trailed off, accepting my defeat. "But Jungkook always sleeps shirtless!" I added quickly, as if it somehow defended my dignity.

"Right," Ji-won said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. "So, if you're not his hot, smart girlfriend, then... who was he talking about?"

My body went stiff, and my eyes dropped to my laptop screen.

He has a girlfriend?

My heart sank as the thought hit me.

"I-I don't know," I mumbled, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace as I stood, grabbing my laptop. "Excuse me."

"Hey!" Ji-won called after me, his voice filled with teasing humor. "If you don't want Jungkook, I have a friend I can introduce you to—"

Before he could finish, I hurried upstairs, my footsteps loud against the wooden stairs.

In Jungkook's room, I placed my laptop on his desk, my breathing heavy as I tried to steady myself.

"fuck," I muttered under my breath. But the words did little to stop the ache forming in my chest.

"I need air," I whispered, grabbing a few cigarettes and a lighter from my bag.

---

The beach wasn't far from the house. The moment my feet hit the sand, the cool breeze washed over me.

Lighting a cigarette, I took a long puff, letting the smoke swirl in my lungs before exhaling slowly.

Is he really that stupid?

I took another drag, the embers glowing in the fading light of the evening.

Making me feel like this... and having a girlfriend?

All this time, he didn't want me.

Why was I even feeling like this? He was right. We were just friends. Nothing more.

He's my friend, and I'm his... loser, nerd friend.

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head as I brought the cigarette to my lips again.

Should've known from the start. He doesn't even want to interact with me in public for the sake of his reputation.

The familiar ding of my phone pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced at the screen.

Jakay: Where are you? Jakay: Nvm. I checked your loc. Jakay: I'll go there with you.

Seen.

I put my phone in my pocket, plugging in my earbuds and pressing to play August by Taylor Swift.

"August slipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine..."

I sank onto the sand, pulling my knees to my chest as I stared out at the waves.

"I remember thinkin' I had you..."

Before I could take another puff of my cigarette, it was yanked from my hand.

"Y/N..."

I looked up to see Jungkook standing over me, disappointment etched across his face. He held the cigarette between his fingers, his jaw tight.

"You told me," he began, his voice low and steady. "You told me you wouldn't smoke anymore."

I turned away, hugging my knees tighter. "You smoke too," I muttered.

"Yeah, Y/N," he said, his voice softening. "But just because I do doesn't mean you should."

Before I could respond, he knelt beside me and pulled me into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around me, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"You know I care about you, right?" he murmured, his voice breaking slightly. "Even when you're being such a fucking brat... I do. I fucking do, Y/N."

His grip on me tightened as he continued. "I can't handle seeing you do the things I do. It kills me."

I closed my eyes, his words sinking in, but the ache in my chest didn't ease.

I pulled away from his grip, standing up and brushing the sand off my clothes.

"Let's go," I said coldly, refusing to meet his eyes. "It's your mom's birthday party."

Back at the house, everyone was busy setting the table and decorating for the celebration. I immediately went to help Jungkook's mom, avoiding him entirely.

"Happy birthday, Mom," I said with a warm smile as I hugged her tightly.

"Oh, dear, come here more often, yeah?" she said, patting my back affectionately.

"I'll make sure to," I promised, returning her smile as I handed her the plates.

Dinner went by in a blur of laughter and cheer, everyone singing happy birthday as the candles on the cake flickered. But through it all, Jungkook's eyes never left mine.

"Happy birthday!" everyone cheered as his mom blew out the candles.

I clapped along with everyone else, but the weight of Jungkook's gaze made it impossible to focus on anything else. Across the table, his dark eyes locked onto mine

--

After dinner, I helped clean up the dining room, making sure to keep my distance from Jungkook. Once everything was done, I retreated upstairs to his room, collapsing onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

"Y/N?"

The door creaked open, and Jungkook stepped inside, his expression unreadable as he approached the bed.

"Can we talk?" he asked, sitting down beside me.

I didn't answer, instead sitting up and taking a deep breath.

"Why do you... why do you always make me so confused?" I finally said, my voice trembling.

"What?" he asked, his brows furrowing.

"I don't even know what I feel anymore, Jungkook," I continued, my words spilling out. "One second, you're treating me like I'm someone special to you. Then the next second, you remind me we're only friends."

"Y/N, I—"

I cut him off, my voice breaking. "I hate it, Jungkook. I fucking hate it."

Tears streamed down my face as I looked at him, my chest heaving. "You bring me here to meet your mother, and then I find out you apparently have a 'hot, smart girlfriend.'" I paused to take a shaky breath. "I hate that I'm crying in front of you right now."

Before I could pull away, he brought me into his arms. I tried to push him off, but his grip didn't falter.

"You're out there fucking other girls at school," I sobbed, weakly hitting his chest. "And I'm here, being a fool for your words and actions. I don't even know what to feel anymore."

I looked down, my voice barely above a whisper. "I think I'm in love, but I'm not, because I despise your guts. But at the same time... I love hating you because....." i sigh not wanting to drop the L bomb.

Jungkook let me rant, his arms never leaving me.

"Did you drink?" he asked softly.

I froze, looking down at my lap.

"How much?" he pressed.

"Maybe... three. Or seven," I mumbled.

He let out a deep sigh, gently putting me down on the bed.

"We'll talk when you're sober," he said, grabbing my makeup remover and carefully wiping my face.

I stared at him, speechless.

"Didn't your doctor tell you to stop drinking? Smoking? Any of that?" he muttered with a soft chuckle, his voice heavy with frustration.

He paused, his voice barely audible. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I couldn't respond. Instead, i fell asleep. 

-----

I woke up, my head spinning slightly as I blinked at the clock on the bedside table.

12:23 PM.

I shot up, panic coursing through me. "Oh my god," I muttered, scrambling to throw on something decent before rushing downstairs.

As I went downstairs, I found Ji-won, Jungkook, and his mom already at the kitchen table, chatting and enjoying what was left of brunch.

"I'm so, so sorry I woke up late," I blurted, trying to catch my breath as I stood by the table.

"Oh, it's alright, dear," Jungkook's mom said with a kind smile. "Jungkook told me you weren't feeling well. Here, go eat." She pushed a plate toward me, still warm with food.

"Thank you," I said, my voice softening as I smiled back and sat down. Jungkook's eyes were on me the whole time, but I avoided looking directly at him.

"We'll head home in a bit," Jungkook said after a moment. "Maybe later, once Y/N finishes getting ready."

I turned to him, frowning slightly. "D-do you know what happened last night? I don't think I remember much. I just remember you telling me we'd talk."

He tilted his head, his lips pressing into a tight line. "You don't... remember?"

"Why? Did I say something bad? Or wrong?" I asked nervously.

"Nothing," he said flatly, his attention shifting to his phone as his tone grew colder.

The tension in the room was suffocating, so I quickly finished eating and stood up. "I-I'll go dress up," I mumbled, heading upstairs without waiting for a response.

In the room, I focused on packing, trying to push away the unease settling in my chest. I zipped up my suitcase just as Jungkook came in, helping me carry our stuff downstairs to load into the trunk.

---

After bidding his mom and brother goodbye, Jungkook and I climbed into the car. The silence between us was deafening.

"Just drop me off at my apartment," I said, my gaze fixed out the window.

"I know," he replied curtly.

The drive back to Seoul stretched endlessly, each second weighed down by unspoken words. I stole a glance at him occasionally, but his expression remained unreadable, his focus firmly on the road.

When we finally arrived, Jungkook carried my bags into my apartment. He set them down quietly, his movements stiff.

"Bye," he said simply before walking out the door.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the room, and I sank onto the couch, exhaling shakily. My phone buzzed on the cushion beside me.

I picked it up to see Namjoon's name flashing on the screen. With a sigh, I answered.

"Hey, wanna go to a party with me?" he asked, his voice chipper.

"Joon, you know I don't like parties," I replied, leaning my head back against the couch. "Plus, I'm a VP. I can't be doing that."

"Come on! Just this once, pleaseee," he begged.

I groaned, rubbing my temple. "Alright, just this once. But—"

"But what?" he interrupted eagerly.

"What do I get out of it?"

"A really fun time and a cool best friend: me," he answered with a laugh.

"Shut up," I muttered, though I couldn't help but grin.

"Get ready," he said. "I'll come over and help. I know you're clueless about party outfits."

"Excuse me?" I shot back, feigning offense.

"On the way," he said before hanging up.

---

Namjoon arrived a few minutes later, letting himself in with his usual energy.

"Alright, where are our candidates?" he asked, clapping his hands.

I pointed to the dresses hanging in my closet.

The first was a tight black dress, sleek and long with a high slit.

"Too long," he said with a shake of his head.

The next was a baby pink, flowy dress.

"Too cutesy."

I rolled my eyes and held up a white, shiny dress adorned with rhinestones.

"Are you dressing up as a disco ball?" he teased, making me laugh despite myself.

Finally, I pulled out a light pastel green, silky dress that hugged my body in all the right places while maintaining an elegant air.

Namjoon's jaw dropped slightly as he stared at me. "This is it. You're gorgeous," he said, still looking a little stunned.

I smiled shyly and began curling my hair, keeping my makeup natural with a soft, flushed look.

When I was done, I called Namjoon into the room.

"Okay, I'm ready," I said, gesturing for him to come in.

He walked in and froze, his eyes widening.

"Woah," he said.

"What?" I asked, tilting my head.

"You... you don't have your glasses," he said, his voice softer.

"I'm wearing contacts, silly," I replied with a small laugh.

Namjoon shook his head as if snapping out of a daze. "Alright, alright. Come on, let's go."

I glanced at the clock and sighed. "Can't believe it's already 9. It took us seven hours to get me ready!"

"Well, it was worth it," he said with a grin. "Let's party."

The party was already in full swing when Namjoon and I arrived. The bass of the music thumped loudly in my chest as I looked around, the crowd a chaotic blur of moving bodies and flashing lights.

"Hey, Joon? I'm gonna grab some drinks," I called out over the noise.

He nodded, already immersed in conversation with someone.

Weaving my way through the crowd, I was halfway to the bar when I accidentally bumped into a group of guys. The smell of cologne and alcohol was overpowering, and as I glanced up, my heart sank.

It was Jungkook.

And his friends.

"Hey, loverboy," one of them said with a grin, nudging Jungkook's arm. "Look, is that your girl?"

The group burst into laughter, their teasing loud and sharp.

Jungkook's ears turned red, and he hesitated before mumbling, "N-no."

His answer made something in me twist painfully, but before I could process it, one of his friends stepped closer, his smirk widening.

"How does it feel being one of Jungkook's bets?"

The words hit me like a freight train. My breath caught in my throat, and I turned to Jungkook, my vision blurry from the sting of unshed tears.

"Y/N—" he started, his voice panicked, but one of his friends grabbed his arm.

"Let her be," they said, laughing cruelly.

I yanked my arm away from the guy and hurried to the bar, my heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out the music.

Sitting on a stool, I poured alchohol into a red cup with shaky hands and took a large sip. The burn didn't matter. anything to dull the ache in my chest.

The hours blurred together. By the time I finished my ninth cup, the world spun hazily around me. I stumbled toward a couch, collapsing onto the soft cushions, my head buzzing.

Two men approached, their faces vaguely familiar from campus.

"Hey," one of them said, leaning in closer. "Aren't you the VP?"

I nodded drunkenly, unable to form a coherent response.

The other one grinned, his eyes lingering too long on me. "You don't seem like one right now."

I tried to laugh it off, but then I felt a hand on my leg, slowly creeping upward.

"Stop," I muttered weakly, but they ignored me.

"STOP!" I cried out, my voice breaking into a scream as I tried to push them away.

Before I could move, a fist flew past me, landing squarely on the guy's face. He stumbled back, clutching his jaw, and I blinked blearily as Jungkook stood in front of me, his chest rising and falling in anger.

"Touch her again, you punk," Jungkook growled, his voice low and dangerous before landing another punch.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as people turned to watch. Phones appeared, cameras flashing as whispers filled the room.

"Isn't that our VP?" "Don't they hate each other?" "What's going on?"

Jungkook turned to me, his face etched with concern as he grabbed my arm.

"Come on," he muttered, pulling me to my feet.

"Who brought you here?" he demanded, his voice sharp as we stepped outside into the cool night air.

"N-Namjoon," I mumbled, giggling drunkenly.

"Fuck," he hissed, running a hand through his hair. "How much did you drink?"

"I-I don't—" Before I could finish, my knees gave out, and I felt myself falling.

"Shit," Jungkook cursed, catching me just in time and scooping me into his arms bridal style.

As he carried me toward his car, I stirred slightly, my head lolling against his chest. "Do I love you?" I mumbled, my words slurring together.

Jungkook froze for a moment, his grip tightening on me.

"I should be mad at you for making me your bet," I slurred, tears streaming down my face. "But... I feel this weird feeling."

"Y/N—" he started, his voice soft, but I cut him off.

"I don't wanna love you, Jungkook," I cried, my words breaking with a sob. "I don't love you. I shouldn't."

My chest heaved as I buried my face against his shoulder. "Why do you do this? I'm so confused. I just wanna be the number one girl in your eyes," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"I hate this, Jungkook... I hate you," I muttered weakly, my tears soaking into his shirt as I finally succumbed to exhaustion.

Jungkook sighed heavily, his expression unreadable as he opened the car door and gently placed me in the passenger seat. He tucked the seatbelt around me, his movements careful and deliberate, before closing the door and walking around to the driver's side.

The car ride was a blur, punctuated only by the sound of my occasional hiccup and the faint sound of his playlist. When we finally reached my apartment, Jungkook wasted no time carrying me inside. His steps were careful, steady, as though he was trying not to move me too much.

He pushed the door open with his foot and gently set me down on the bed, brushing stray hair from my face as I muttered incoherently.

"Kook..." I mumbled, tugging weakly at the strap of my dress. "My dress. Please... undress it."

Jungkook froze, his ears turning red as he looked at me, flustered. "I can't," he said softly, his voice strained.

"Just close your eyes," I slurred, meeting his gaze drunkenly, my eyes half-lidded.

He hesitated for a long moment, his jaw tightening before he sighed, relenting. "Fine."

"Get up," he said, helping me sit up on the edge of the bed. I swayed slightly, leaning on him as I turned around. His hands hesitated at the zipper, his breath hitching.

"Y-you're not wearing a bra?" he stammered as the zipper came undone, the fabric loosening around me.

"The bra strap would make it ridiculous," I muttered, shrugging as though it were obvious.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he tried to keep his eyes tightly shut. "You're unbelievable," he said under his breath.

He stood and moved to my closet, rummaging for something suitable to replace the dress. Finally, he pulled out a pair of shorts and one of his oversized shirts, a look of familiarity flickering in his eyes.

"C'mere," he said, his voice low but gentle.

I stumbled toward him, my bare shoulders brushing against his arm as he carefully helped me into the clothes. His hands worked quickly, his eyes still closed as he guided my arms through the sleeves of the shirt.

"There," he said once the task was done. "You're all set."

I flopped back onto the bed, letting out a tired sigh. But before I could sink into the mattress completely, Jungkook spoke again.

"Wait, your makeup," he said, reaching for the wipes on my bedside table.

I groaned but didn't resist as he sat beside me, his touch surprisingly delicate as he began to wipe away the remnants of my makeup. The cold wipe against my skin was oddly soothing, and I found myself watching him through half-closed eyes.

"Why do you do all this for me?" I slurred, my words heavy and unsteady.

Jungkook didn't look at me, his focus on carefully wiping away the smudged mascara. "Because I want to," he answered simply.

I tilted my head, frowning slightly. "How much did you get?"

"Huh?" he asked, his hand pausing mid-wipe.

"How much money did you win?" I repeated, my voice softer but sharper.

Realization dawned in his expression, and he looked away for a moment before muttering, "a hundred bucks."

I let out a drunken laugh, though there was no real humor in it. "Grab my wallet," I said, making his brows furrow in confusion.

"What?" he asked, staring at me as though I'd lost my mind.

"Go ahead. Grab my wallet," I insisted, giggling to myself as I added, "You won me, so I'll win myself again. I'll just buy myself back."

Jungkook froze, his jaw tightening as my words hung in the air.

"But you won me, too," he said softly, his tone laced with a faint teasing edge. "So I guess we both won each other."

I shook my head, my laughter fading. "But I didn't make you a bet," I said quietly, the ache in my chest seeping into my voice.

The words hit him like a blow, and I saw his expression falter, his stomach clearly twisting with guilt. He looked away, his grip on the makeup wipe tightening for a moment before he resumed cleaning my face.

"Are you wearing contacts?" he asked after a beat, his voice low but steady.

"Maybe," I muttered, my head lolling slightly as the alcohol swirled in my veins.

"Let me take them off," he said, his thumb gently pulling down my eyelid. His touch was careful as he removed the lenses one by one, leaving my eyes bare and vulnerable.

"You go sleep now, alright?" he said softly, brushing a hand through my hair.

I reached out weakly, tugging at his arm. "Can you... can you just hug me to sleep?" I asked, my voice small and trembling.

Jungkook froze, his body tensing under my grip. "Y/N..." he began, his voice hesitant.

"For the last time," I murmured, my eyes fluttering shut. "Before you go away."

His hesitation lingered in the air, but eventually, he relented. I felt the mattress dip as he lay down beside me, his arms wrapping around me carefully, tightly.

----

I woke up to a pounding headache, my head spinning as I slowly sat up. The sunlight streaming through the window felt like knives piercing through my skull, and I groaned, rubbing my temples.

As I shifted in bed, I noticed the fabric of the shirt I was wearing. It wasn't mine.

It was Jungkook's.

The oversized shirt hung loosely on me, the faint scent of his cologne still clinging to the fabric. My breath hitched as I brought it closer to my nose, the smell both comforting and suffocating at the same time.

Did he come here? How did I get home?

I tried to piece together the fragments of the previous night, but my memory was hazy. I reached for my phone on the bedside table, the screen lighting up with notifications.

And there it was.

The first video was blurry but unmistakable. Jungkook stood in the middle of a crowd, his fists clenched as he towered over a guy on the couch.

"Touch her again, you punk," his voice growled through the speakers.

The bystanders gasped as Jungkook pulled me up, his arm protectively around my waist.

I scrolled further, finding another video. This time, it was of him carrying me in a bridal style, weaving through the crowd.

The audio was faint, but I could just make out my own drunken voice slurring, "Do I love you?"

Jungkook froze for a moment in the video, his face tightening as he looked at me.

I groaned loudly, burying my face in my hands. "ARGH!" I yelled, the sound echoing in my empty apartment.

I threw the phone onto the bed, pacing the room in frustration.

----

I had barely stepped onto campus when the student council secretary approached me, her expression a mix of pity and worry.

"Hey, Pres is calling for you," she said, her voice low. "You should go to the office."

My heart sank. I shut my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to prepare for whatever storm was waiting for me.

----

Walking into the student council office felt like stepping into a courtroom. Our president was seated behind the desk, her arms crossed, her expression one of pure fury.

"Hello—" I began hesitantly, but before I could finish, she slammed her phone onto the table with a loud thud, cutting me off.

"Y/N, are you fucking kidding me?" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to make me flinch.

She picked up her phone and shoved the screen toward me. There it was: the video of Jungkook punching the guy and carrying me out of the party.

"I know—" I tried to defend myself, but she didn't let me finish.

"First, you ditch our project meetings for three days, and now you're trending all over school being associated with Jeon Jungkook!" Her voice was rising with every word.

I swallowed hard, guilt pooling in my stomach.

"Do you even realize what this could do to our school's reputation? You're a VP, for fuck's sake, Y/N. Act like it!"

I stared down at the floor, the weight of her words pressing down on me. "Pres, I'm sorry," I murmured weakly.

Her glare didn't soften. "You'll be the one delivering the speech this Friday. Have you prepared everything?"

"Yes, Pres. I have. I'll email you everything today, I promise," I said quickly, hoping to salvage what little trust she had left in me.

She leaned back in her chair, her gaze still hard. "Why were you absent?"

"I, um... I was sick," I lied, trying to keep my voice steady.

Her eyes narrowed, and she scoffed. "Lies."

Reaching for her phone again, she swiped a few times before holding it up to me. "Have you seen Jeon Jungkook's Instagram?"

My heart sank further as I stared at the screen. The feed was filled with pictures from Busan—our trip to Busan.

I swiped through the photos, each one hitting me harder than the last.

The first was a picture of me asleep in Jungkook's arms, my face soft and peaceful against his chest.

The second showed me helping his mom set the dinner table, a smile on my face as I handed her a plate.

The third was of the beach. A candid shot of me laughing, the ocean behind me, my hair wild from the wind.

And then there was the last picture.

It was a candid shot of Jungkook and me. We were standing close, our faces inches apart, like we were about to kiss. The caption underneath read: "My number one girl."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

A part of me fluttered with a strange mix of happiness and flustered confusion. But that fleeting warmth was quickly crushed by the weight of reality.

Was this just for his bet?

The thought tore through me, leaving my heart aching.

The president sighed, snapping me back to the present.

"This is unacceptable, Y/N," she said, her tone cold. "You're supposed to represent the school, not become some tabloid headline."

I nodded numbly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."

"Fix this," she ordered, her words final as she dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

I turned and walked out of the office, my legs shaky beneath me. The hallways felt suffocating, every student's gaze like a spotlight on me. The whispered rumors, the muffled laughs all of it rang in my ears.

How could he do this?

I walked into class, my head still pounding from the events of the morning. As I slumped into my seat, Namjoon turned toward me, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Told you I shouldn’t have gone," I snapped, shooting him a glare. "Now I’m screwed."

Namjoon’s smile disappeared, and he clasped his hands together in a mock plea. "Y/N, I’m really, really sorry. I swear I will never invite you to another party again."

"You mean to not leave me alone at one," I retorted sharply, crossing my arms.

Namjoon winced, nodding. "I was trying to find you, but by the time I did, Jungkook was already there."

I sighed, shaking my head at him. "Alright. Just... don’t let it happen again."

He leaned closer, nudging my arm gently. "So, is it true? Did you ditch your project meetings to go on a trip with Jungkook?"

I glared at him again. "Say another word about that, and you’re dead."

Namjoon raised his hands in surrender, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he turned back to his notebook.

During class, I discretely checked my phone under the desk, ignoring the lesson for a moment. My notifications glared back at me, drawing my attention to Jungkook’s messages from the night before.

Yesterday, 11:03 PM Jakay: Y/N... I’m sorry. Jakay: Can we talk about this? Jakay: I’ll explain everything after the party.

Seen. Blocks.

I locked my phone, shoving it into my pocket and forcing my focus back to the lesson.

After school, I trudged back to my apartment, exhausted and emotionally drained.

"I want ice cream," I muttered to myself as I walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer. My eyes immediately landed on the mint chocolate ice cream Jungkook had bought for me.

As I pulled it out, a small note stuck to the lid caught my attention. The handwriting was unmistakable.

"I love you. I’m sorry."

I stared at the note for a moment, my chest tightening. Then, without a second thought, I crumpled it up and threw it into the trash. My hands trembled as I opened the ice cream aggressively, shoving a spoon into it and taking a large bite.

---

I had just started to feel slightly at ease when my phone buzzed.

Unknown: Y/N, I’m sorry. Unknown: You probably don’t want to talk to me ever. Unknown: I was really genuine about bringing you to Busan to introduce you to my mom. Unknown: I won’t bother you again. Unknown: Good luck with your speech at Foundation Day. :)

I clenched my jaw, my fingers trembling as I began typing a reply.

Me: If you were really genuine, you wouldn’t have posted me on your IG when you knew what could happen. Me: I thought we agreed to not associate with each other in public. Me: I thought it would be a social suicide for you. Me: Unless you were really desperate for that bet money that you had to drag my school life into this, knowing I’m on the student board, a VP. Me: Fix this, because I’m not apologizing or cleaning up a mess I didn’t make. Me: Goodbye.

Seen.

---

The following days were filled with avoidance.

Flowers left outside my door? Ignored. Chocolates with handwritten notes? Straight to the trash. Mint chocolate ice creams? Untouched in the freezer.

I threw myself into student council work, directing Foundation Day projects with single-minded focus. By the time I finally got home each night, I was too exhausted to think about anything or anyone else.

It was the night before Foundation Day. I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, my body aching from the day’s work. The clock read 10:34 PM, and I was just about to fall asleep when my phone buzzed.

An unknown number.

I ignored it, but it rang again moments later. With a sigh, I picked up.

"Hello?" I said, my voice groggy and annoyed.

"Do you know Jungkook?" an unfamiliar voice asked, urgency lacing their words.

"Yes, why?" I replied, sitting up.

"Can you come to euphoria Club, please? It’s urgent," the man pleaded.

Alarm bells rang in my head. I quickly threw on a cardigan over my Hello Kitty pajamas and ordered an Uber, my heart pounding with worry the entire ride there.

---

The club was chaotic when I arrived, the music blasting so loud I could feel it in my chest. I pushed through the crowd, calling out his name.

"Jungkook!"

"Here!" someone called out, waving their hand.

I hurried toward the voice, finding Taehyung and a few of Jungkook’s other friends standing near a slouched figure.

"Y/N...?" Taehyung’s voice trailed off, surprised as I brushed past him to Jungkook.

"Kook?" I said softly, kneeling beside him. "Come on, let’s go home."

He looked up at me, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "I’m sorry, Y/N..." he muttered drunkenly, leaning forward to hug me. "I really am. I fucked up."

"Can you drive?" Yoongi asked, his face serious.

I nodded. "Help me pick him up."

Together, we managed to get Jungkook to his car. He was barely coherent, slurring his words as I buckled him into the passenger seat.

As I drove, Jungkook chuckled weakly to himself, his head lolling against the window.

"I like this girl so much," he mumbled, his words slurred but clear enough. "But she’s still so clueless and confused about it, but i think she's just convincing herself she doesn't want me"

I gripped the wheel tighter, pretending not to care.

"She’s really pretty and smart, y’know?" he continued, his voice soft and wistful.

He paused for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I won the bet... but I lost her."

My chest tightened at his words.

"So basically, I lost," he said, shaking his head and pressing his palm to his forehead.

"You can’t have both," I replied softly, focusing on the road.

"Why did I even pick the bet over her?" he muttered, more to himself than to me.

When we reached his apartment, I gently guided him to the couch. He leaned heavily on me, his movements sluggish.

As I turned to leave, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist.

"I missed you," he murmured, pulling me into a hug.

I froze, his words hanging in the air as his grip slackened and he drifted off to sleep.

With a sigh, I glanced at the clock on my phone: 1:00 AM.

I stayed where I was, sitting beside him on the couch. Exhaustion overtook me, and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep, too.

--

The shrill blare of my alarm yanked me from sleep, and I groggily blinked at the time.

"Shit!" I shot up, panic surging through me as the realization hit.

"Jungkook! Jungkook!" I shook him awake, my voice urgent.

He stirred, rubbing his eyes before looking at me with a mix of confusion. "What? What’s going on?"

"Please, please drive me to my apartment—quickly!" I said, already scrambling to gather my things. "Today’s Foundation Day!"

That seemed to snap him out of his half-asleep state. "Fuck," he muttered, getting up in a rush to grab his car keys.

"Wait!" I stopped him, heading for his bag. I found the painkillers I knew he’d need and poured a glass of water from the kitchen. "Take this first," I said, holding the pill and water out to him.

He downed it quickly, nodding as he grabbed his jacket and motioned for me to follow.---

We sped through the streets in his car.

"Fuck, fuck," I muttered under my breath, tapping my foot nervously.

"I’m sorry—fuck," Jungkook muttered, his voice tense as he focused on the road.

When we finally reached my apartment, I leaped out of the car, hurriedly grabbing my things. I barely had time to thank him as I rushed inside to get ready.

The next thirty minutes were a disaster. I applied my makeup with practiced speed, slipping into my carefully chosen pretty outfit for the day.

Jungkook had followed me inside to clean up as well, and when I emerged, I found him waiting by the door, dressed sharply in a casual outfit.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice steady despite the chaos of the morning.

"Yeah. Let’s go!" I said, grabbing his arm as we rushed back to the car and sped toward school.

---

The field was already bustling with activity when we arrived, the energy of Foundation Day in full swing. As we hurried across the field, I could feel dozens of eyes on us, whispers trailing in our wake.

"Why are they running together?" "Isn’t that Jungkook?" "What’s going on?"

I ignored the murmurs, my focus solely on making it to the stage in time.

"Okay, just sit there!" I pointed to a chair in the front row near the stage, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Jungkook nodded, taking the seat as I hurried backstage.

Minutes before my speech, the student council president found me, her arms crossed and her expression tense.

"What was that?" she hissed, her voice low but accusatory. "Why were you with Jungkook again?"

"Just... please," I said, my voice weary. "I’m exhausted. Can we not do this right now?"

She narrowed her eyes but said nothing more, stepping aside as my name was called.

Taking a deep breath, I walked onto the stage, my heels clicking against the polished wood as I approached the podium. The field quieted as all eyes turned toward me.

I smiled warmly, gathering my thoughts before speaking.

"Good morning, everyone! Honorable principal, respected teachers, esteemed guests, fellow students, and everyone gathered here today, it is an honor to stand before you on this remarkable occasion, our school’s 14th Foundation Day.

Today, we celebrate not just the number of years but the legacy of excellence, growth, and community that has brought us to this moment.

Foundation Day is not just about celebrating the past; it is about envisioning the future. Let us take this opportunity to commit ourselves to uphold the values of our school and work together to make it an even better place. Let’s aim higher, support one another, and leave a legacy for the generations to come.

Thank you, and happy Foundation Day!"

I finished with a smile, my voice steady and confident. The crowd erupted into applause, and the energy was electric as cheers filled the air.

As I stepped back from the podium, scanning the crowd, my gaze landed on one person.

Jungkook.

He was seated exactly where I had told him to sit, his eyes locked on mine. His lips curved into a small, proud smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

For a moment, the chaos of the morning, the lingering hurt, and the whispers of the crowd all faded. It was just him and me.

With my heart feeling lighter than it had in days, I left the stage, exchanging one last look with him before disappearing backstage.

It was a few hours after the speech when Jungkook found me, tugging me gently by the wrist to lead me somewhere private. We stopped in a quiet corner of the campus, away from peoples eyes and curious whispers.

"Look, I want to explain everything," he started, his voice unsteady but determined.

I crossed my arms, tilting my head as I waited for him to continue.

"Taehyung my friend did a really stupid bet," he began, his words spilling out like he’d been rehearsing them. "He said if I could get you to like me, I’d win a hundred bucks. But during the bet, I realized..." He hesitated, running a hand through his hair nervously. "I realized I wanted you too- fuck- no, I loved you too-"

I cut him off with a raised eyebrow and a small, amused chuckle. "Who said I loved you too?"

Jungkook froze, his mouth slightly agape, before I waved him off with a smile. "Okay, sorry. Go on," I said, letting him finish.

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. "At first, I really just wanted to win the bet. But the longer it went on, the more..." He trailed off, his hands gesturing helplessly. "My brain just went blank-crazy every time I looked at you. I enjoyed teasing you, making you mad at me, just so you’d keep talking to me. And I really, really am so sorry for everything. for making you feel betrayed, sad, confused-"

He looked down, his voice quieter now. "I can’t believe it took something as stupid as this bet to make me realize what I felt about you." A weak chuckle escaped his lips.

I softened slightly, watching him as he fidgeted.

Jungkook reached out, gently taking my hand in his. "I have to admit... at first, I was ashamed." He hesitated, his gaze flickering up to meet mine. "Ashamed of being friends with the VP. I was a coward, scared of something I couldn’t even explain. But now? All I want to do is kiss you in front of everyone and let them judge us."

His words hung in the air, heavy with vulnerability and sincerity.

I gave him a small smile, shaking my head. "Kissing me in public would only make the rumors worse, Jungkook. It could get us in trouble for committing inappropriate acts at school, you know," I said with a teasing edge, my lips curving into a grin.

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Also," he added, his voice softer now, "the hot, smart girlfriend I was talking about to my brother..." He paused, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It was you."

I raised an eyebrow, tilting my head. "Who said I was your girlfriend?"

His head snapped up, his face a mixture of confusion and panic. "Huh?"

"You can’t just hurt me like that and think you’ll get it easily," I said with a smirk, my eyes sparkling with mischief.

Realization dawned on his face, and he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You’ll have to earn me again," I added, turning my gaze away from him, pretending to inspect my nails.

Jungkook laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. "Alright. I deserve that."

"Also, you can’t get both," I continued, my grin widening. "So, give me the hundred bucks."

He blinked at me, then burst out laughing. "Alright, fine. I’ll Venmo it to you later," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Then, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Can I kiss you?"

I leaned back just a little, raising an eyebrow. "Too fast," I teased, scrunching my nose playfully.

Instead, I offered him my hand. He smiled, taking it and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it, his eyes never leaving mine.

drabbles?

this is literally a rushed lazy fic cuz i was bored. crazy i even made it to 14k word count

will be making a jks pov ver named "number 1 party anthem" tihii.

this isn't actually proof read sooo yeah just tell me what i missed.

[caitified]

Could you write something with CC who loves naps like always begging r to lay down with her and cuddle. I feel like her room is def -10 degrees and she uses it as an excuse to practically crawl under your skin

nap time

caitlin clark x reader

this was so personal to me as a nap enthusiast,those sound like my ideal conditions

caitlin loved naps more than just about anything. it didn’t matter how busy her schedule was—practice, games, workouts—she always managed to find time to crash for an hour or two. she swore it was essential for her performance, but you were pretty sure she just loved curling up in her fortress of blankets and dozing off whenever she could.

and since the two of you started dating, she’d made it her personal mission to drag you into her napping habits. at first, you resisted—claiming you had too much to do, that it was too cold in her room, or that you weren’t tired. but caitlin was nothing if not persistent, and her endless whining (paired with her ridiculous pouting) eventually wore you down. now, it had become routine for her to beg you to nap with her, using every excuse in the book to get you to crawl under her mountain of blankets and cuddle up.

so, when you walked into her room that afternoon and saw her already burrowed in her usual spot, you knew exactly where this was going.

“come lay down with me,” she whined, stretching out her arms toward you from her cozy little nest.

“caitlin, your room feels like a walk-in freezer,” you reply, arms crossed and standing your ground. “i swear i saw my breath when i walked in.”

“that’s because it’s the perfect temperature for napping,” she argues, sitting up slightly. the blanket slips off her shoulder, and she immediately grabs it and tugs it back up like a burrito. “come on, it’s freezing—i need you to warm me up.”

you raise an eyebrow. “if it’s so cold, why don’t you just turn the heat on?”

she gasps like you’ve just suggested something heinous. “are you trying to kill me? it has to be cold so i can burrito up. but you’re supposed to be part of this equation. please.”

her pout is devastating. it always is, but you don’t let her win too easily. you stand there for a moment longer, pretending to deliberate while she stares at you with wide, pleading eyes. finally, you sigh dramatically. “fine. but only because i don’t want to listen to you complain all day.”

she grins triumphantly and throws back the corner of the blanket. “come here. you’re not going to regret it.”

the second you climb into bed, caitlin wastes no time wrapping herself around you like an octopus. her arms encircle your waist, her legs tangle with yours, and she tucks her face against your neck.

“see?” she mumbles, already sounding halfway to dreamland. “this is perfect. you’re so warm.”

“you’re like an actual furnace,” you counter, laughing softly as she squeezes you tighter.

she hums in contentment, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “that’s the point. now we’re the perfect temperature. don’t move.”

“i wasn’t planning on it,” you admit, feeling yourself start to relax against her. the chill of the room is long forgotten with caitlin clinging to you like a second skin.

her breathing evens out within minutes, and you glance down to find her completely out, her mouth slightly open and her hold on you still as firm as ever.

just as your own eyelids start to droop, she stirs slightly, nuzzling closer.

“love you,” she murmurs sleepily, the words barely audible but enough to make your heart swell.

“love you too,” you whisper back, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

thanks for reading! requests are open

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere soldier with Stockholm syndrome

Part Two of Yandere Soldier

Yandere Soldier - Stockholm Syndrome

Yandere! Solider who can't get you to talk to him. You'll sit curled in the corner of the bed, resolutely looking anywhere but at him.

Yandere! Soldier who brings you books, flowers, even old picture albums he finds stashed at the bottom of your cupboard. And still nothing but silence.

Yandere! Soldier who's beginning to think nothing will ever break it. That he's stilled that vicious tongue of yours forever. Who hates himself for what he's done, but what choice did he have? Yes, he's taken you from your home and family and all that was familiar. But was an interrogation room really the better option?

Yandere! Soldier who comes home with a nasty cut all across his arm. Some dumb kid got smart and slashed him when his back was turned and now he's forced into recovery leave for a week.

At first, you just watch him struggle to change his bandages. But something about his injury, this reminder of mortality, sticks with you. You pluck the roll of bandages straight out of his hand and wrap his injury for him.

Yandere! Soldier who stays frozen while you work, terrified of frightening you away. Who basks in the intimacy of it - your bowed head, the delicate smell of your perfume, the pulse fluttering at your throat.

Yandere! Soldier who has to swallow and breathe before he can find his voice again.

Спасибо

Thank you.

You shrug and let go of his arm. Yandere! Soldier who hates to loose your touch. Who wants to pull you back and force you to cradle his face in your palms. But he doesn't want to ruin this tiny bit of progress.

Yandere! Soldier who fills the silence with his stories. Who tells you about his training, his childhood, the places he's been deployed to and how happy he was to leave them. Who teaches you words in his native language, even if you don't bother repeating them.

Yandere! Soldier who comes home exhausted and aching, who sprawls on the bed with a groan and instinctively reaches for you.

Yandere! Soldier who has to bite back a yelp of surprise when he feels your climb onto his back and straddle his waist. You slowly knead at his muscles, massaging away all the knots and tension and lingering aches.

Yandere! Soldier who has to stifle a moan because it feels so damn good.

Yandere! Soldier who finds you waiting at the door the next morning, still as quiet as a monk. He's immediately suspicious. Are you going to make a run for it? Instead you stand on your tip toes and press a quick, uncertain kiss to his cheek.

Yandere! Soldier who keeps touching the place you kissed him, even when it's hidden under his mask.

Yandere! Soldier who cooks you dinner most nights, even if he's dog tired, even if all you do is push it around your plate.

Yandere! Soldier who brings you news of the city and the war effort. The resistance is faltering, it's leaders hunted and put down like dogs. Part of him hopes the news will make you more pliant. Why fight the inevitable?

Yandere! Soldier who doesn't like the way your eyes get hard when he talks about the resistance, the way you clench your jaw and look away from him.

You mutter something and it takes him a moment to decipher it.

"I should be out there with them."

Yandere! Soldier who tries and fails to contain his anger. Who grabs your jaw and pulls you up to face him.

"If you were out there, you'd be dead. Can't you be thankful?"

You're quiet again after that and he stops bringing it up.

Yandere! Soldier who doesn't leave anything sharp around the apartment, but is still surprised when you ask him to trim your hair. He sits on the bed with you between his knees, carefully filtering the hair through his fingers. You're so close to him - willingly - that it makes him feel almost lightheaded.

Yandere! Soldier who carefully dusts the cuttings off you and is secretly pleased when you don't flinch away.

Yandere! Soldier who isn't sure how to react when you start greeting him at the door. At first he watches you warily, expecting you to bolt the second you can. But for some reason you don't and a part of him insists that you're starting to like it here.

Yandere! Soldier who exercises every evening, his shirt off and his black fatigues slung low on his hips. He likes it when you watch him and he'll usually throw in a few extra push-ups just to impress you. He complains that he doesn't have enough weight around for his workouts and you take to draping yourself across his back when he needs it.

Yandere! Soldier who finds himself craving you, even with your cold silence. Who is constantly aware of you around the apartment and has to force himself to look away.

Yandere! Soldier who turns off all the electricity in the dead of winter and claims it was damaged in the fighting. It's icy cold in old buildings like this and it doesn't take long for it to wear you down. Soon you're curled up against him, glaring at him to keep his hands to himself.

And he does, for the most part.

Yandere! Soldier who wakes up to you sobbing, your face pressed into his chest. He tries to soothe you, but you flinch away. You whisper between the sobs, sounding afraid and hateful and needy all at once.

"I love you..."

Yandere! Soldier who instantly understands what's happened. He's spent the better part of his life in war zones afterall, and it's more common than you'd think. Yandere! Soldier who secretly hoped for this outcome all along.

Yandere! Soldier who soothes you as best he can, stroking your hair until your sobs turn to whimpers. He presses his lips to your forehead and tells you to relax, that this was bound to happen, that's it's not your fault.

Yandere! Soldier who holds you in his scarred arms and knows that he's finally caught you, body and soul. Who says the words you long for but dread hearing.

я тоже тебя люблю

"I love you too."

[straylightdream]

unconditional

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: yoon joenghan x f.reader

↳ life has been hard, and you know you’re not easy to love right now. No matter how hard things get he’a always by your side.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: established relationship

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, angst, lots of emotions, mentions or depression and anxiety, suggestive: eluding to sex in the past, and mentions of showering together

an: this is a short one, but I’m definitely in my Jeonghan feels right now.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

Staring at him intently you were trying to figure out how to put into words everything that was going on through your mind. Leaning against the kitchen counter he just stared at you wondering if you were ever going to speak. Things haven’t been the easiest in this relationship recently.

“I must be really hard to be with,” a sigh passed your lips. He couldn’t even say anything. He just stared at you with his warm dark eyes. “I’m gonna take that silence as a yes,” you crossed your arms and just stared at him.

You were going through a lot at the moment. Your father had randomly left your mother a few months ago for a random woman. You were suffering from depression and anxiety. In the process of dealing with that kept pushing away Jeonghan while he was just trying to be there for you. You weren't the easiest person to be with right now but he didn’t care. He just knew you needed him to tell you were going to be okay. He knew that even though you were going through a rough patch, you just needed some to love and support you unconditionally.

“I’m trying my hardest to be there for you,” he says walking towards you. He really just wanted to hug you and tell you to let him in. He hates when you become so guarded that he can’t get through to you.

“I know you are, and do you think it’s honestly fair you have to put up with me?” Your eyes watered at the thought that maybe you should break up. Maybe you should give him an out. He doesn’t deserve all the hard time you put him through. He deserves someone who is going to love and support him like he supports you.

“I’m not giving up on you,” he stood right in front of you staring at you with kind eyes. His hand rests on your cheek as he gently drags his thumb across your delicate skin. “I’m never going to love anyone like I love you.”

If you looked up the definition of a “perfect boyfriend” in the dictionary you would probably find a picture of Yoon Jeonghan. He was the most caring and loving boyfriend in the world and would do anything to make you happy. He constantly goes out of his way to do things that he knows will make you smile.

Bright eyes started at you intently as you fought back tears. He didn’t even bother saying anything else he just wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his strong chest. You cling to him instantly. You don’t want to be difficult. You wished more than anything you could just be happy.

“I love you and we’re in this together,” he murmured with his lips resting on top of your head. Nuzzling your head into his chest. You knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He was in it for the long haul and would do anything for you. His hand rubs your back and you hold onto him. Gentle tears slowly slide down your cheeks.

“I love you too,” you said softly.

“Why don’t we go to bed and I can hold you?” he let go of you slowly and gave you a small smile. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I would like that,” you reached down and grabbed his soft hand.

Slowly you made your way towards your bedroom. You both crawled onto the queen size bed that sits under the window. You snuggled up as physically close as you could get to Jeonghan. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close as your head rested on his shoulder.

“Thank you for putting up with me,” you sighed. You’ll never understand how you managed to find someone like Jeonghan. He’s truly perfect in every sense of the word. You love him with your whole heart and soul, and you know he loves you.

“I love you and I’m always going to be there for you,” he gently kissed the top of your head, causing you to smile as she closed her eyes.

“Let’s lay down,” he moves so he’s laying down and he pulls up close to him with your head resting on his chest. “Do you know the moment I realized I was in love with you?” He absentmindedly draws shapes on your arms.

“No?”

“We had been dating for two and half weeks and it was the day we got caught in the rainstorm.” You vividly remember this day. “We had gone to the museum because my favorite artists had paintings there and I remember I could barely pay attention to the art. I was captivated watching you. You seemed so interested in learning about the things I love.” When you met him and you found out about his love for art. You learn everything about his favorite artist so you could share his love for art.

“I liked you so much from the beginning, I wanted to make sure you knew how much I cared for you.”

“I can still picture you that day. I remember it was a beautiful spring day and you wore that pretty light blue dress.” You didn’t tell him but you bought that dress to wear on that date.

“It was a warm spring day. I had no clue it was supposed to rain. I didn’t even bother bringing a jacket.”

“I know you hated the rain that day, but everything about that day was perfect for me. I realized watching you stare at those paintings that I was in love with you.” You almost want to start crying again. You aren’t sure how you managed to get Jeonghan to love you like he does.

“I realized I love you probably at the month mark.”

“You mean after that I told you I love you?” He smiles. He never had a problem being the first one to say those three big words.

“When you told me you love me, I realized then that I felt things for you I hadn’t ever felt before,” leaning up your press a gentle kiss to his neck. “It clicked for me when you spent the night after we went out with your friend. I remember the way you held my hand just seemed so proud to introduce me as your girlfriend.”

“I was head over heels for you. Of course I was proud to introduce you to them.”

“That night in bed things just felt more intimate and intense and I realized it was because I was in love with you.”

He closes his eyes smiling. “You told me that night you loved me while we took a shower together. I just remember how nervous you were. I thought you looked absolutely adorable.”

“I loved you then and I still love you with my whole heart,” you snuggle closer to him.

“Baby I have loved you with my whole heart and soul since that rainy day.”

You know no matter how hard things get for you Jeonghan is always going to love. He’s always going to be by your side. Soon you both drifted off to sleep knowing no matter what you have each other.

[daisymbin]

48. "you’re the best part of my day."

seungcheol comes home after a long day at practice and gets to “turn off his brain” when he’s with y/n, allowing himself to be loved and doted on instead of feeling like he’s in leader mode all the time

this is so wholesome 🥺

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

fluff prompt #48: "you're the best part of my day."

the front door clicks shut, and you hear the familiar sound of seungcheol’s sneakers being kicked off in the hallway. you glance up from the couch, tucking your legs under you as he steps into the living room, shoulders slumped and face drawn with exhaustion.

“long day?” you ask softly, already setting down the book you weren’t really reading.

he nods, his movements slow as he drops his bag to the floor and shrugs off his jacket. “yeah,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “felt like it was never going to end.”

you stand and cross the room, wrapping your arms around his waist without a word. his body melts into yours instantly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he exhales a deep, shaky breath.

“i’m glad you’re home,” you murmur, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his back.

“me too,” he whispers, his voice muffled against your hair.

you pull back just enough to look at him, brushing a few stray strands of hair from his forehead. “come on, let’s get you comfortable,” you say, taking his hand and leading him to the couch.

he follows without protest, flopping down with a heavy sigh. you grab the blanket draped over the armrest and tuck it around him, earning a soft smile as he leans back into the cushions.

“want me to get you something to drink?” you offer.

he shakes his head, reaching out to grab your wrist before you can step away. “just stay here,” he says quietly, tugging you down to sit beside him.

you oblige, settling in close as he pulls you under the blanket with him. his arm wraps around your shoulders, and you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“what happened today?” you ask gently, your fingers playing with the edge of the blanket.

he groans, tilting his head back against the couch. “practice ran late, and there’s just... so much to do. schedules, performances, making sure everyone’s okay. sometimes it feels like there’s no room to breathe.”

“you’re always looking out for everyone else,” you say, your voice soft but firm. “when was the last time you looked out for yourself?”

he lets out a dry laugh, but it lacks humor. “hard to do that when there’s so much on my plate.”

you sit up slightly, turning to face him. “cheol, you don’t have to carry everything on your own. you know that, right?”

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the weight he’s been carrying is plain to see. “it’s hard not to,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m supposed to be the leader. if i don’t have it together, who will?”

“you don’t always have to have it together,” you tell him, reaching up to cup his face. “it’s okay to lean on the people who love you.”

his lips curve into a small, grateful smile, and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “you always know what to say,” he murmurs.

“someone’s gotta take care of you,” you tease lightly, brushing your thumb across his cheek.

he chuckles, the sound soft and genuine, and pulls you closer until your head is back on his chest. “you know,” he says after a beat of silence, “you’re the best part of my day.”

your breath catches at his words, warmth blooming in your chest. “yeah?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah,” he says, his tone soft but certain. “no matter how stressful things get, knowing i get to come home to you... it makes everything worth it.”

you don’t know what to say, your heart too full for words. instead, you tighten your arms around him, holding him close as if to say, i’m here. i always will be.

his fingers trace absent patterns on your arm, his breathing growing slower and steadier. “you make it so easy to just... be,” he says, his voice laced with gratitude. “when i’m with you, i don’t have to think about anything else. i can just... turn it all off for a while.”

“that’s the idea,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“lucky for you,” you say, your voice teasing but warm, “you don’t have to find out.”

he laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest. “thank god for that.”

you stay like that for a while, the world outside fading away as you sit wrapped in each other’s warmth. for now, there’s no stress, no deadlines, no expectations—just the quiet comfort of being together.

and for both of you, that’s enough.

[hoshifighting]

i enjoy your work so much!!! i love reading new posts whenever you update (which is so frequent and im always in awe of how creative your brain is!!) im wondering if you had similar work to your most recent reaction but with mommy issues instead? giving a tight hug to all my peeps struggling through parental relationships ❤️‍🩹

seventeen x reader with mommy issues

a/n: thank you anon 🥺🥺❤️ i hope you like it, and > giving a tight hug to all my peeps struggling through parental relationships pt.2

WARNINGS: mommy issues, svt mostly doing girly things with you.

seungcheol: cheol’s the type to instinctively take a nurturing role without even realizing it. he’ll remind you to eat, help you pick out clothes for the day, and even braid your hair if you let him. “does this look okay?” he asks, tongue sticking out in concentration as his big hands fumble a little. he’s all about making sure you feel cared for in every little way, even if it’s just holding you close while you vent.

jeonghan: knows how to fill that space without making it obvious. he’s the one who’ll ask his sister to help him paint your nails, gossip about random shit, or let you borrow his skincare products. “c’mere, let me do it for you,” he says, gently dabbing serum on your face while teasing you about how bad you are at self-care. it’s his sneaky way of saying, i’m here for you.

joshua: takes on that classic comforting role, always making sure you feel heard.he’ll offer to bake cookies with you or even sew something small together. “it’s okay to miss her,” he’ll say softly, holding your hand. “but you’ve got people now who care about you, including me.”

junhui: create those bonding moments you might’ve missed out on. he’s the type to grab your hand and drag you into the kitchen, insisting you bake something together even if it’s a disaster. “this is supposed to be fun, not perfect babe...” he laughs as flour gets everywhere. he doesn’t try to replace anything, but he makes you feel like you’re not missing out anymore.

hoshi: his appproach is so wholesome it hurts. he’s the kind to pull you into his lap while he combs through your hair, humming softly. “you deserve to feel spoiled,” he says with a grin, and suddenly he’s dragging you to the mall for a mini shopping spree. “pick something cute, okay? you can’t say no—it’s my treat.”

woozi: his way of comforting you is subtle but so meaningful. he won’t push you to talk, but when you’re struggling, he’ll sit you down and quietly braid your hair or make tea for you. “you don’t have to do this alone,” he’ll say in his soft, no-nonsense voice. sometimes it’s just the quiet, supportive presence that heals the most.

wonwoo: he’ll read to you, help you organize your space, or even teach you how to do things like fixing a hem or arranging flowers. “this is kinda relaxing, isn’t it?” he says as you both work together, his calm energy making you feel safe and understood.

minghao: would suggest journaling together, so you can focus more on yourself, than focus on the house problems. “it’s okay to feel like this,” he says, squeezing your hand. “but you’re more than what you’re missing.” he makes sure you feel strong enough to rebuild those pieces.

mingyu: mingyu goes all in on being your cheerleader. he’s the one who’ll sit on the floor with you to do DIY face masks or giggle with you over silly videos. “do you want me to call my sister?... don't really know what a cut-crease is...” he says with a goofy grin, trying his best to make you feel loved and cared for in every way he can.

seokmin: he s exactly what you need when the weight of everything feels heavy. he’ll pull you into the kitchen to teach you his favorite recipes, or he’ll sit down with you to sew a button back on your shirt. “see? you’re already amazing at this!” he beams, making you feel proud of yourself for even the smallest things.

seungkwan: ultimate comforter. he’ll organize a mini self-care day, complete with snacks, facials, and trashy TV. “no one’s judging you here,” he says, rubbing your back as you tear up. his endless affirmations—you’re doing amazing, you deserve love, you’re enough—are exactly what you need to hear.

vernon: he’ll suggest stuff like planting a little herb garden together or decorating a space to make it yours. “babe I think I planted my ring...” he says, looking at the plant pot that will be all messy in seconds just to find the piece of silver.

chan: he’s the guy who’ll offer to watch cheesy movies with you, paint your nails (even if he sucks at it), or teach you a new dance—and stumbling on his own feet on purpose—just to make you smile. “you deserve to feel cared for.”

[bloggerspam]

"I think I'm going insane."

Val jumps, almost bumping her head up against the underside of the car above her, at the sudden sound of Steph's voice echoing in the garage.

It's been about an hour since Jay finally got Danny's reply texts. He left, now assured that Danny was awake and understood it was a misunderstanding, to hopefully ask Danny out.

"Insane?" Val echoes, rolling out on the creeper until she can sit up, grabbing a rag to clear up the grease all over her arms as best she can.

Jay had told her to go home, along with the rest of the mechanics, but in his rush he had left a broken down Mazda leaking so she wasn't exactly going to just leave it like that.

Plus, she's gonna be staying far away from the apartment until she's 100% it's all clear. Maybe crash Sam and Tuck's hotel room, stay with them just in case.

"Insane," Steph confirms, looking like some kind of art piece leaning on Jay's work table across the room, "Y'know, like that Einstein quote."

"I'm not sure I follow," Val scrunches up her nose, thoroughly confused. She gets up, tossing the rag and heading towards her sudden guest.

She's technically not allowed to be doing these types of repairs, considering she lacks the certifications, but she thought she might as well finish it up for Jay to look over tomorrow before heading home, so the timing of the other girl's visit is at least perfect.

Steph watches her as she twirls a finger through her hair, pretty blue eyes half lidded and pouting with her very kissable lips. Val looks away to focus on clearing up her workspace.

"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." Steph quotes, and oh, right. Conversation was happening.

"Actually," Val starts, slipping the top part of her coveralls off and wiping her face and thoroughly ruining the white teeshirt she's got under, "Rita Mae Brown said that quote. Well, wrote it in her book."

She realizes a little too late that that might sound too condescending, so she course corrects, "But anyway, what are you doing that's making you insane?"

She turns to look at Steph, jumping once more at how close Steph suddenly is. Val's backed up against her work table, Steph looming over her with all of her 3 inch height advantage. A metal tool falls over the side of the table, Val's not sure which one, from the resulting bump.

They stare at each other, Val profusely thanking any and all Gods, Ancients, whatever Higher Beings out there that her dark skin makes it harder to see if she's blushing. Not that it helps when Val's probably staring at Steph's mouth like a loon.

A long moment passes, Val somehow finding it within her to tear her eyes away from the other girl's mouth—did she mention how kissable they looked?—and staring somewhere off to the side, confused.

"Flirting, Val!" Steph groans, throwing her hands up and stalking away to pace back and forth, "I've been flirting with you since we've met!"

"What? No." Val says, scoffing, "I'd notice if you were flirting with me."

Steph gives her a look that promises some kind of spar in the future that will cause Val to possibly lose feeling in all her limbs. Val shivers at it, sure that something's wrong with her if that turns her on, as she watches the blonde take off her jacket and prowl forward towards her.

"You're so fucking stupid." Steph says, the profanity of it shocking Val enough that she doesn't react when the other girl fists a hand into her shirt to pull her forcefully towards her into a searing, almost painful kiss.

Val feels like she's having an out of body experience, like lights have blinded her. But Steph's lips are soft, her hands are holding Val's hips, her body is pressing up against Val's and Val's definitely been stupid because they could have been doing this the whole god damn time.

But she kisses back, and that's all that matters. She kisses back, and somehow her body knows how to do the rest.

Her hands trail up Steph's biceps, feeling the soft cotton of the sleeves, trailing up to drape over the other girl's neck. She tilts he head to get the angle a little better, tiptoeing just a bit to make up the distance. The kiss isn't urgent, despite the sudden nature of it. The kiss, kisses, are soft, reaching, insistent. Small little things that cumulate one on top of the other, breathing into each other's spaces, bodies trying to melt into one another.

Steph's hands roam up towards the small of her back, Val arching at the feeling of it, and Steph must like that because she moans into her mouth like it hurts. Between one breath and the next, tongues are involved, and Steph tastes divine.

It's enough to make Val lose it. Her hands trail back down to Steph's waist, bunching up the fabric as she clutches the other girl closer. It frees up space for Steph to loop her long arms around Val's neck this time, gives Val the opening she needs.

She grips tight, spinning them around and lifting Steph onto the table. The other girl graciously makes room to accommodate Val's bulk, long legs wrapping around Val's waist as her hands trail down to trace the seams of the rough denim of the other girl's jeans.

Steph pulls Val down with the arms around her neck as she leans back and what is Val to do but respond? Her hands end up gripping Steph's thighs, and the heat of her is intoxicating. It's like Val's burning from the inside out, flames licking at the roof of her mouth and trickling down her throat, pooling in her stomach and radiating a heat that threatens to melt her.

And yet still, still, the heat of Steph consumes her.

Val detaches from the other girl now, to take a moment in the steamy haze. She braces one hand on the table below them, giving her abs a much needed break from hovering over the other girl, and just breathes.

Steph is beautiful.

Val stands over her, splayed over her work table like a vision from a dream straight from some romance era painting that Val could never hope to conjure up in her most fantastical dreams. Milky white skin, pearl blue eyes, a flush that Val wants to follow helplessly with her lips, her tongue, her fingers. Her blonde hair fans out around her like a halo, scrunched and mussed and silky and beautiful.

Val was already breathless from the kissing, but now it feels like the entire room has deprived her of air.

"You're beautiful." Val breathes out with the last of her oxygen. It's worth it. It's so worth it.

Steph, who had been half lidded and dazed, quirks a soft smile. Her entire body seems to soften with it, muscles loose and arms still lazily looped around Val's neck, squeezing just a little bit, a quick little hug.

"You're not so bad yourself, you know." Steph whispers back, voice husky as she brings a hand to trace over Val's cheek, her brow. She leans up to give Val a soft peck on her cheek, and the tingles of it warm her, makes her close her eyes to lean her forehead down onto Steph's, to breathe her air, to share space.

"As nice as this is," Val starts, "I want to be clear…I don't want this to just be a fling."

If her relationship with Danny taught her anything, it was that communication was important.

"I like you, Val. I want to get to know you more, date a little." She pauses, smiles a wry smile, "Or at least, go on dates and have you know they're dates too. Maybe…girlfriends? In the future?"

Relief and embarrassment floods through her. "Yeah, yeah that sounds great. And uh, sorry. For, y'know, bein' stupid."

She curls down to bring Steph into a hug, lifting her a bit to make room for her arms against the hard wood of the table below, burying her face into the space where Steph's neck and shoulder meet, laying a kiss as gently as she can to the place she rests.

She feels the shiver that wracks through Steph from the action, feels the way her legs tighten around her, and Val breathes and breathes and breathes her in, clutching tighter.

"You're forgiven. Besides," Steph sniffs, "I wasn't going to let you take me here and now. I'm classier than that."

Val chokes on a laugh, muffling it into the other girl's shoulder. "Wouldn't have been hygienic anyway." Val wiggles a hand out, showing off the grease and oil, "Sorry about the shirt. And pants."

"I can't complain." Steph laughs, and it lights Val up. "I was the one who jumped you, after all."

"Serves you right." Val mumbles as she wraps her arm back around the other girl, causing another precious laugh.

"Can I touch your hair?" Steph's hands are rubbing her back up and down now, migrating shyly up to the back of her neck.

"Yeah, 'course." Val mumbles, trying her damnedest to become a part of the lovely girl beneath her.

Delicately, Steph seems to fiddle with her hair, as if twirling a finger through each dread, one by one.

It's a long peaceful moment before Steph breaks the silence again.

"Now that we've established that you're a moron," Her tone is soft and sweet despite the words, "and that I'm clearly moron-sexual…" Val snorts, causing Steph to whack her on the back of the shoulder lightly for the interruption.

"Wanna get some ice cream?" Val lifts up, loathe as she is to separate from the blonde, beaming, "My treat."

Steph rewards her with a smile so soft, a lovely little thing, as she curls up to give her a kiss on the cheek and whisper her answer into Val's ear.

"Thought you'd never ask."

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 

All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 

It's the little things.

[miriellesandthegiantpeach]

A Conversation | Rewrite of 8x06 Bucktommy

“You’d end up breaking my heart. And I - I don’t think I can deal with that,” Tommy looks to the ceiling, feeling the tears well at the bottom of his eyes. He blinks and looks at Buck. His brows are furrowed; his face is a mixture of disbelief and confusion. Tommy swallows, “I should go,” he whispers and heaves himself off the chair.

This can’t be happening. How did this go downhill so fast?

Buck is quick to get up and grab Tommy’s wrist as he turns his back. “Whoa whoa. Hey, what’s going on right now? What just happened? Sit back down,” Buck gently commands and pulls Tommy back to the stool and scoots his own closer so their knees are interlocked. ”This sounds a lot like a break up.”

Tommy sniffles, “it’s for the best, Evan.”

“For who? We’re happy. We have a great thing here and you want to throw it away? How does that make sense?”

”You’re not seeing me for who I am. The guy you admire? The one that ‘paved the way’ is not me. Never was,” Tommy explains.

”Okay,” Buck says and he can see where he put Tommy on a pedestal. “I’m sorry I made you out to be this gay mentor for me to idolize. You’re not. You’re my boyfriend. I still admire my boyfriend. I still think you’re confident and capable.”

”I never felt confident, I’m always feeling like a fraud.”

Buck takes a moment to let Tommy breathe, he takes Tommy’s hands in his and holds on tight. “You are confident. It takes confidence to fly like you do, to come out in his line of work, to kiss a guy who didn’t even know about his own bisexuality,” Buck laughs. “Honey, sorry to break it to you, but you are confident.”

“But this isn’t about me,” Tommy says.

”Isn’t it though? You self sabotaging in some weird way of protecting yourself,” Buck says, trying to tamp down his frustration.

Tommy looks struck, he looks like he’s about to bolt out the door. Buck hit the exact wrong nerve. “Because I’ve been there. I’ve been through it more than once. With you it’s different. You actually give me hope for a future, but if it ends, like it inevitably will, it’s going to destroy me.”

“So that’s it, huh? You just get to decide our fate and walk out of my life?” Buck asks and takes a deep breath. He can sympathize with Tommy in some sense; he felt that fear of heartbreak when he started dating again after Abby. “And you know, this isn’t my first relationship. It’s not even my first serious relationship.”

“But it’s your first with a man,” Tommy tries, but Buck scoffs.

“Why should that matter?” Buck’s voice gets low and intimate. He leans even further into Tommy’s space trying to catch his eyes. “Tommy. Why do you get to decide something that I feel? I can even say I’ve been in love before. But it wasn’t like this.” Tommy’s breath hitches. “With you, it’s easy. Easiest it’s ever been. And that’s not something I’m willing to give up on. I love you. And I’m sorry I jumped the gun asking you to move in before saying that. I don’t love you because this is my first queer relationship. I love you because you’re you. I love your patience, your attentiveness, your dry humor, your warmth, your heart. There are a lot of reasons that don’t have to do with your gender. Although I do love your rugged face and your dick,” Buck adds with a laugh and that makes Tommy smile. “If I had to bet I’d say you love me too.”

Tommy nods and breathes deep then ducks his head, focusing on Buck’s hands holding his. “I do. I’m just so scared.”

A tear falls down Tommy’s cheek and Buck reaches up to catch it on his thumb. He cups Tommy’s stubbled jaw and caresses his cheek. “Why are you breaking your own heart, baby?” Buck whispers. That makes more tears spill out. Tommy really wishes he knew.

“Can we take a step back? No moving in, no Mach speed. I can slow down. Is that what you need?”

“I-I don’t know,” Tommy says shakily. “It would help I think.”

“Okay. Then we do that. We take our time. But please do me a favor?” Tommy meets Buck’s earnest eyes with still tearful ones. “You have to trust me with your heart. We’re in this together. I’m scared too and just as invested.”

“I’ll try,” Tommy promises. “I love you.”

A beaming smile threatens to split Buck’s face in two and pulls Tommy in for a deep kiss. He stands up, still connected to Tommy’s mouth as both hands move to land on either side of his neck. They kiss like that for a few minutes with Buck standing as close as possible in between Tommy’s spread knees and bent over at an awkward angle to keep kissing him.

“I think we should skip the movie, we’re late anyway,” Buck says against Tommy’s lips. “I’m gonna take you upstairs and get you out of your head.”

“Okay,” Tommy agrees and makes a mental note of trusting that Buck knows what’s best for him. How lucky is he?

[pankowperfection]

Good Intentions

reposting because Tumblr doesn't like the old link

GIF by normatural

Summary: JJ keeps watch over you at a party, but decides he can't stay away anymore

Warnings: smut, mentions of drinking, mentions of drug use, oral (fem receiving), 18+

Being John B's younger sister meant inheriting the other pogues as family, regardless of whether you wanted them or not. They were basically siblings you'd never asked for, so while everyone was polite when you were all together, you weren't particularly close with any of them. Unfortunately, John B always dragged you out with them so you weren't just sitting at home alone and tonight that had meant going to a kook party on Figure 8, the very last place you wanted to be.

You had stressed about what to wear, in the end opting for a pair of ripped jeans and a lacy black tank top that showed a little bit of under boob. Strappy sandals on your feet you headed to the kitchen, finding JJ and John B gathering beer to take to the party. "Are you guys almost ready?" JJ turned around at the sound of your voice, looking you over head to toe. You missed the way his eyes darkened at the sight of your exposed breasts, how he swallowed thickly before looking away. "Yes y/n, chill. Just gathering supplies. Let's go." You follow the group outside, piling into the Twinkie and praying the night goes smoothly.

Of course as soon as you arrived at the party, everyone split off into different directions, leaving you alone. John B had gone to search for Sarah, Kie and Pope settling into a deep conversation about environmental changes needed to protect the beaches. JJ headed out to the back patio overlooking the beach, searching for a quiet spot to roll a joint. Wanting to look like you belonged you wandered into the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink into the red plastic cup before making your way back to the main part of the party. Unbeknownst to you, JJ had come back inside, positioning himself in the corner of the room to keep watch over you as John B had instructed.

He'd always been secretly attracted to you, never making a move because he didn't want to be the guy to go after his best friend's younger sister. He had spent many hours admiring you from a distance, wanting to be the one to make you laugh on a bad day. Countless nights he had laid wide awake in bed, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, to feel your bare skin beneath his fingers. How did you taste? What would it sound like for you to moan his name? The thought of anyone else touching you, getting to see you in that way, made JJ see red.

Over the next few hours, several guys approached you and tried to get you to dance. Each time you turned them away, getting more frustrated with each pursuit. The final straw was when none other than Rafe Cameron had stalked up silently behind you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you back against him. You let out a gasp, spinning around in his arms quickly and attempting to shove him away. "Rafe, get off of me." He smirked down at you, leaning in closer. "Shh, relax sweetheart. I just want a quick taste. Let me show you a good time." Without further thought you threw your drink into his face, leaving him fuming before stalking off to grab another.

Suddenly you were pulled into the hallway, a familiar large frame caging you in against the wall. "JJ, what are you doing?" He sighs, letting his hand trail down your face before tucking your hair behind your ear. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Seems like you haven't had a moment of peace all night, all these dumb kooks treating you like a piece of meat." You look up into his blue eyes, something different in them that you haven't seen before that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. "I'm fine J. Why do you care anyways? I know John B asked you to look out for me, but I can take care of myself." He smiles, dimples on display making your heart beat faster. "Oh I know, I saw that for myself. You look so hot, even hotter when you threw that drink in Cameron's face. Sexiest thing I've ever seen."

He leans closer, hands on either side of your face, close enough you can feel his breath on your lips. "JJ...." His lips are on yours in an instant, soft at first, savoring the feeling of your lips against his. When you let a moan slip and tangle your hands into his hair he loses all restraint, pressing his body into yours as his tongue plunges into your mouth. His hands are everywhere, caressing softly over your breasts and bringing your nipples to hard peaks before traveling further south, ghosting over the front of your jeans and making your panties soaked. You can feel his hard cock pressing into your core, grabbing onto his ass to pull him closer still causing him to groan into your mouth. You pull apart breathless, chests heaving and heat flooding through your system. "Take me home J, please." He nods, making some kind of excuse to John B about you not feeling well and letting him know he was taking you home.

The ride back to the Chateau is quiet, air thick with sexual tension. You barely make it over the threshold into the house before he is on you again, picking you up and carrying you to the spare bedroom he calls his own. He sits down on the bed with you straddling his lap, hands kneading the flesh of your ass as you grind down over his length. You pull his head back, exposing his neck as you kiss and suck over every inch of exposed skin. "Shit y/n. We shouldn't do this, your John B's sister." You push him down onto the bed, rocking over length again in slow, deliberate motions that cause him to moan again. "Tell me you want me to stop J and I will." You continue, friction of your jeans rubbing your clit perfectly as you start to pick up speed. "Fuck,” he groans, flipping you over quickly and trapping your hands over your head.

"You're sure this is what you want? Cause once I start, I won't be able to stop." He searches your face for any sign of discomfort, wanting to be certain that you really do want to cross this line. "I want you JJ. Please, please make me feel good." With that he helps you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and taking in the sight of your naked breasts. "God, you're so perfect," he coos, leaning down to take your left nipple into his mouth. You weave your fingers into his hair, holding his face close as he lavishes your sensitive bud with his tongue. He kisses his way to your right breast, repeating the same actions as his hand pops the button on your jeans. He pulls the zipper down slowly, connecting his lips to your neck as his fingers dive under the material of your panties. When you feel the coolness of his ring touch your overheated skin you moan, hips bucking up into his touch. "Mmm JJ, feels so good." He takes his time, teasing two fingers up and down through your folds, lightly grazing your clit with each pass. "So wet for me sweetheart, bet you taste so good."

His hot, greedy mouth kisses down your body, pausing long enough to remove the rest of your clothes before settling between your thighs. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." His breath tickles your pussy, eyes threatening to roll at what is about to happen. "J please, need you so bad." With that he dives in, devouring you with such ferocity you swear you might pass out from the overwhelming pleasure. Your nails rake into his scalp and he moans, vibrations making your thighs tremble. Two fingers tease around your entrance before he plunges them inside, curling them just right so his ring massages your walls. "Fuck J, don't stop." He increases his pace, fucking you with his fingers while his talented tongue worships your clit. "Come on sweetheart, cum for me." His soft command does you in, body trembling as you grind against his face while you ride out your orgasm.

The sight of your release shining on his chin as he comes up to kiss you makes you feral, pushing him onto his back again before hovering over his length. "Easy sweetheart," his abs tense beneath your touch, struggling to not show how excited he is at the thought of you riding him. "Is this okay? Can I ride you?" His eyes roll back at your words, moan leaving his plump lips that tells you all you need to know. You line him up before starting to slowly sink down, his thick length stretching you in a way no one has. "God, you're so big." You finally bottom out, taking a moment to breathe and adjust to how deep he is inside of you. "Y/n, fuck. Need you to move, squeezing me so fucking tight."

His hands grab your hips, guiding your motions as you start to bounce up and down on his length. His fingers dig into your hips, grip bruising but you just don't care. Suddenly he lands a soft smack to your ass making you gasp and clench around him. "Oh god," he groans, bucking up into you to meet your thrusts. Before you can realize what happened he has you on your back, legs over his shoulders as he plows back into you. You let out a whimper, nails digging into his back as he starts to thrust hard and fast.

"You feel so good, don't want to ever stop." He pins your hands over your head again, laying down on top of you and sucking bruises into your neck. The new angle feels amazing, each thrust stimulating your clit. "Yes J, just like that. I'm gonna cum again." He somehow speeds up, rocking into you faster. When he bites the sensitive spot on your neck your orgasm washes over, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins as you moan out his name. "Shit princess, gonna fill you up." A few thrusts later he stills, warm release coating your walls as he comes to a halt.

Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist

[tinylilacbun]

Reader is sick and whiny and begging for Jj while he’s at home so her parents ring him asking him to come over to put her to bed

"Come on, sweetie, you gotta sleep a bit." Your mother tries to soothe you but you only sniffle, pushing the bed covers from your body again, making her sigh.

"Wan' JJ." You whine, rubbing your eyes in frustration, little coughs coming out of your mouth and you whimper from how sore your throat is.

"You saw him just a few hours ago. He's at his own home now, baby." She tries to reason with you, rubbing your back only for you to shuffle away and bury your face in your pillow with a sob.

Your mother bites her lip, taking out her phone and fumbling with it in thought, hesitating to call JJ. The boy already jumps anytime your parents call him and they don't want to bother him this late.

Not being able to take in your pitiful sobs your mother leans down to kiss your head, frowning at how hot you are. "I'll be right back, yea?"

You only hiccup in response, pressing your bunny lovey to your face as she gets up and into the hallway, lifting her phone to her ear, waiting patiently.

She sighs in relief when her only chance of a peaceful night picks up. "JJ? I'm really sorry for bothering you this late."

"Oh, no, it's fine. Everything okay with the princess?" JJ asks, shushing his friends. The concern in his tone was evident, knowing from the nasty fever you're running right now.

"Not really, she um...she doesn't want to take her medicine and go to sleep. She's asking for you and I'm-" Your mother starts and he's on his feet in an instant.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes." He says as he snaps his fingers at John b to hand him the keys for the Twinkie.

"I can't thank you enough. You'll get something extra of course."

"Nah, it's fine-" JJ turns down the offer. JJ Maybank just turned down money.

"I insist." She interrupts him, hanging up before he could interject, thanking the stars for his existence.

You're still crying, your throat burning with each cough and your head hurting from all the sniffling you did today thanks to your runny nose.

"Heard someone doesn't want to sleep?" JJ's voice has you instantly lifting your head, a new round of tears filling your eyes as he approaches your pink plush bed with his hands on his hips, sitting down by your side. "Whoa, hey, what's with all the tears, huh?"

You shuffle on your knees closer to him, lifting your arms and he places hands under your armpits, hoisting you onto his lap.

"There, there, I gotcha." He murmurs, rocking you back and forth until he's certain your tears have stopped. "I know it's icky and I totally get you, but you should take your medicine, yea?"

You let out a small whine, grasping onto his shirt with your small hands. "No wanna..."

"Hm, not even for me?" He asks and you stay silent for a moment. "No? You hurt me, cupcake. And here I planned on taking you to the beach and teaching you how to surf when you're all healthy again."

You pull your face from his chest, pouting at him. "Wanna go t'beach..."

"Then you gotta take your medicine, I'll take it too, okay?" He offers and you nod, watching him grab the cup that's already waiting on your nightstand and gulp it in one go, refraining from grimacing so you would take the medicine. "See, not so bad."

He prepares the cup again for your turn and holds it to your lips, smiling when you swallow everything. "That's my princess. Proud of ya."

You smile at him, snuggling back against his chest, feeling him wrap both his arms around your small frame. At some point he can feel your body sag against him and he smiles, carefully moving you to lay you back on your bed and tucking your lovey under your arm before he covers you with your blanket.

He runs a hand through your hair. "Sleep well..." He whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your head and sees how you snuggle your bunny in response.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[randomsuggesteduseername]

SPIDER’S SECRET I

🕸️ SERIES MASTERLIST

‧₊˚ when new york’s famous vigilante helps you out of a mugging, an arrangement is quick to turn into a friendship….and perhaps more. after all, his charisma needs no face to work its magic on you ‧₊˚

spidey!steve x fem!reader

wc: 4k

description of wounds and violence, fluff, slight pining, smoking

Three knocks stronger than the rhythmic pitter patter of the rain have your attention shifting towards the window. Had you not been welcoming him in your room for the past few weeks you would’ve jumped right out of your bed out of fear. But this was becoming a regular thing, it’s now a matter of ‘when’ rather than ‘if’.

Pushing your biology course books out of your lap, your mind on him rather than the endocrine system you’re supposed to be studying. As you briefly wonder the gravity of his wounds, you remember to close and safely lock your door to avoid interruptions, aware it would be worrying for your mom to find you patching up Spider-man, the boy in a tight, red suit who always makes it on the news. Some say he’s a necessary vigilante for the troublesome city, others state he’s just a dumb kid playing superhero.

Although he always refuses to tell you anything about his identity or his life, you’re pretty sure he’s certainly not just playing around, countless bruises and cuts can attest to that.

The sound of the rain gets louder as you open the window, droplets smacking against the emergency metal staircase climbing up the side of the building. Poking your head out of your room carefully, you look to the left, met with a dark figure sitting on the stairs, leaning back against the brick wall, chest still heaving, shoulders sagged yet tight with pain.

“C’mon Bug-boy…” Urging him inside, you step back from the window, letting him come inside, droplets of water sliding down onto your carpet from his suit. He’s limping, you notice as much, his usual flexible self being rendered to a few pained movements. You briefly wonder how he managed to make it here.

The moment he’s inside your room, he plops down to the floor, resting back against the foot of your bed while his body seems to finally relax a bit, assuming he knows he’s safe with you and you’ll take care of him. Silently bending down, you reach under the bed and pull out the hidden first aid kit you bought a week ago, having realised that some small bandages and a disinfectant won’t do anymore.

Shutting the window, you take the precaution to pull the curtains shut, aware how paranoid he gets sometimes. Kneeling next to him, you tuck some hair behind your ears and speak. “Where, and how bad?” Hoping he’s not actually too injured, hating to see him like this, he pulls his mask up to his neck, showing a cut on his jaw, and as you gaze down, you asses another injury on his waist.

You’ve never seen his face. He’s kept his mask firmly in place, and has instructed you to do the same even if he passes out. You’re not sure what would be so bad about seeing his face, but you stopped questioning it after a while, now staring at the sharp jawline, biting your lip as some wet, brown and blond-ish strands of hair stick to the side of his neck.

Forcing yourself from building him a face you think would fit him based on what you’ve seen already, you rummage through the kit and furrow your brows as you fish the cleaning cloth, dampening it with disinfectant before you announce that it’s going to hurt.

He knows that, of course he does, he’s been through this with you before. But it does feel reassuring to acknowledge his pain. Focusing on the bloody split on his jaw, glad it’s not too deep, you don’t bother to ask what weapon did this as you know he never answers. The pain you cause him is evident from the way his fists stay curled tightly, pressed against his thighs.

Wiping the blood away from his skin and ignoring his groan, you grab a bandage big enough to fit his wound and place it over, making sure it sticks to his skin. However, the cut on his waist is more concerning. His suit is damaged, cut just like his skin is beneath it, though luckily it has stopped oozing blood for a while now, saving the mess it would have made on your floor and carpet.

Scared to approach it, you stare at it and watch as he pushes himself up a bit, having slumped against the foot of your bed due to the pain. “Thought you were about to become a doctor…you’re going to leave me out to die?” His tone, despite trying to sound amused, still has that pained tinge to it. The absurdity of his statement has your eyes rolling, huffing while a bloody cotton ball falls onto the floor. He’s here, laying on your floor after being beaten up, yet he still has the audacity to humour you.

“First of all, you are not going to die from two superficial cuts.” You can see his lips curling up, showing his white teeth as they split into a grin. Lips so pink, you stop to admire for a moment before remembering the point you were trying to make. “And second of all, I haven’t even started my residency yet! I’m purely working on you with the theoretical knowledge I have.”

He stifles his laugh, teeth biting into his lip before he quickly chokes up a gasp, grasping at his side. Pursing your lips, you let him calm down before shaking your head and murmuring about him being a dummy, regaining your confidence to approach his wound, you try not to think about it too much before you use a pair of scissors to cut more of his suit in order to gain access to his cut. Letting him know you’re ready, he breaches for the pain and you work through the mess of dried up blood, brows pulling together and eyes squinting while you carefully sanitise the wound, wrapping it up before you lean back, plopping on your butt with a soft thump before you gaze at him, his head now propped against the wooden pillar, taking calming breaths through his mouth.

“You’ll be fine, it didn’t look too bad.” Silently appreciating your assuring words, he moves to stand up. He never lingers, this sort of agreement you two have never went beyond you cleaning and patching him up, moments later to have him jump right back out of your window and disappear into the night, swinging from building to building.

It didn’t bother you at first, but now you’d like him to at least acknowledge you a bit more. It’s selfish, you think. You can’t demand something like that from him, so you keep your mouth shut and watch as he pads to the window, his steps as light as a cat’s.

“See you soon, doc.” The last thing you see is another stretch of his pretty lips before he tugs his mask down in place and opens your window, leaving you with a shudder as a wave of cold air enters your room, watching as he confidently jumps down from the rail.

Shaking your head and sighing, you close the window, lingering by it for a few moments before you pack up the first aid kit and throw away the bloody cotton balls.

—

THREE WEEKS AGO

Chilly weather always has you adding another layer beneath your jacket in hopes of maintaining a healthy body temperature. But as much as you want it to work, you always end up shaking, legs not able to carry you as fast as you’d wish. This late at night the streets are mostly empty, as was the uni’s library in which you spend your whole evening, revising one last time for your exam.

And just a ten minute walk is all it takes to get back home, so without hesitating, you walk with freezing hands shoved in your pockets. You’re not aware of the man taking an interest in you until it’s too late, his voice, gruff and raspy, calls out for you, and you make your first mistake. Stopping in your tracks to turn around.

He’s about the same height as you, a black beanie and hood covering his features, shielding him from the streetlight’s golden cast. He holds a knife, you can tell by the handle of it, the blade hidden behind his thigh as he speaks again. “Give me your bag.” He demands, his voice wavering as if he’s scared, paranoically looking back over his shoulder.

“I said give me the fucking bag!” He shouts, getting a bit more frantic now as he reaches his left hand for the strap of your bag, fist curling around the leather, but before he can even think of tugging on it he’s blinded by a web covering his eyes. You gasp, stepping back as his grip falls from your bag and instead scratching his covered eyes to free them, another ‘woosh’ sound echoes, another web collides with the man, this time glueing his hand to his chest.

A figure slowly comes down, hanging upside down, feet pressed to the thin string that’s connecting him to the street lamp while he keeps hold of it. You notice him wearing a costume, covering his whole body, a spider shape etched onto his chest. He drops down on the pavement, easily tripping the mugger as he tries to run away. You stand there and gasp as you hear the loud thud as the man falls onto the concrete.

“You, my dear sir, need to be taught a lesson.” The man…boy? in the spider costume tuts and crosses his arms over his chest in disappointment, pretending to care though he’s clearly mocking him. “This young lady didn’t do anything wrong. It’s always the undeserving ones who experience the worst things because of assholes like you.” His words seem to hold a sort of personal value to him, you don’t dare speak.

After the police picks up the thief, you continue making your way back, an uneasy feeling still lingering at the back of your mind. “So…” You yelp as the boy swings in front of you, landing on the side of the building a bit higher up and sticking to it effortlessly as if his limbs are made out of glue. “Why’re you walking alone? You didn’t get dumped, did you?” He tries his luck, jumping to the next building by crawling on the side of it to keep up with your walking pace.

“Um…no.” Keeping your hands tucked in your jacket, not daring to look at him, he jumps down from the building, and surprisingly enough he starts walking backwards in front of you, hands locked behind his back as he effortlessly side steps over a puddle of muddy water. “Just coming back from uni.” You’ve heard of him before, the one in the spider suit doing good deeds expecting nothing in return, but a few blurry images couldn’t really convince you of his integrity, so as he walks in front of you, you’re not sure what he wants from you.

Maybe he’s just another creep, playing the good guy role to gain the trust of others— “Hello, earth to pretty girl.” He waves a covered hand in front of you, making you snap out of your pretty ridiculous train of thought. “Relax, m’just walking you home to make sure you’re fine.” He flicks his hand, trying to bat away your obvious worries. “So, what are you studying?”

His question catches you off guard, eyes widening for a moment before he clarifies. “You said you were coming back from university, right?”

“Oh…” The sound is breathy, feeling a bit embarrassed as you respond. “Medicine, general surgery.” The slight saunter in his walk doesn’t fade, head cocking curiously to the side as he gives you an approving nod.

Stopping in front of your building, you bite your lip, eyes drifting away from the mask, trailing to his arm where you’re quick to notice the cut on his bicep, blood reddening the material of his suit. Stepping closer instinctively, you look at the damage before you frown. “You’re hurt.” He curiously lifts his arm a bit before he notices his cut.

“Hm, didn’t notice…must’ve cut myself while i was swinging.” By the way his words come out you’re assuming whoever is behind the mask is frowning.

“I could help.” Out of the blue, surprising yourself too, you offer to patch him up. You’re not sure if he can be trusted, but the way he helped you out of a street mugging, you feel like you at least owe him a bit of help back. “I’m on the third floor, room on the corner…there.” You point to the window and he takes a mental note. “Be quiet, my parents can’t know.”

After patching him up, he climbs out your window, and then once again, something in your mind has you speaking up. “If you ever need help…with wounds and stuff— you can always come by.” You fiddle with your hands and watch the curve of his back, head turning to the side to gaze back over his shoulder, at least you assume so since his eyes are covered by the mask.

“Will do, thanks doc!” You gasp as he flings himself over the edge, free falling for a few seconds before he shoots out webs, catching himself against the next building, watching him disappear into the night.

—

“The amazing Spider-man, infamous hero of New York City, has saved a family from a burning building. Earlier today, the masked vigilante made his presence known by pulling out a family of four from their top floor apartment as it went up in flames. Authorities showed up to the scene and from what we know so far, they detected a gas leak—“

Tuning out the news reporter, you sigh as you wonder if you’ll see him again. It’s been almost a week and truthfully you’re glad he hasn’t shown up at your window with another set of bruises and cuts on him, but you still feel somewhat empty. Maybe you’re expecting a sign? Something to let you know he’s alive and well, even though there’s plenty of news attesting to that already.

It’s absurd really, but spending your time sitting on your windowstill has become a habit, whether you’re studying or drinking a coffee, you look out into the night sky, hoping to see a dash passing by. Maybe it was for the best, maybe he’s found himself a licensed doctor to take care of him, not some second year student patching him up in her bedroom with shaky hands. Tracing your fingers over the spine of your book, the words jumble as your eyes pass over them, not making any sense of them in your brain. It’s your third time reading this page, but you pull your eyes away from it the moment a familiar voice rings through the room, your eyes finding the TV where he’s apparently giving an interview.

“Rest assured, New York, the Spider-man is here.” He gives a salute to the camera before he swings away, quickly disappearing from the screen. Great. Now he’s giving interviews.

Pushing yourself off the bed, socked feet dragging over the floor as you make your way to the kitchen, passing your dad in the living room. He’s watching some game, newspaper sprawled open on his lap. After grabbing some water, you return to your room, a cold breeze darting over you, eyes widening as you find the window opened. “What the…”

Stepping into the room to close it, your brows furrow as you turn around, a voice coming from above you. “Language, young lady.” You gasp, stumbling back against the bed, finding him sticking to the ceiling, hanging in the corner of your room. Clutching your heart, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “The fuck’s wrong with you?” Shaking your head, you watch as he drops down onto his feet, moving to rest against the wall by the window, you’re wondering if he’s looking for a quick escape in case it’s needed,

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out,” He lifts his hands, as if surrendering, but you purse your lips, a brow cocking curiously. “You say that while you were just hanging off my ceiling.” That makes him think for a moment, letting out a soft chuckle before he brushes a hand over the back of his head.

“I guess you’ve got a point…” His smile is obvious in his tone, his body more relaxed than usual which has you wondering if he’s hurt, because that’s why he must be here in the first place. Standing up, you walk to him and give him a once over.

“Are you hurt?” Not being able to find any injuries which might need your attention, you breathe in and watch as he dismisses your words with a shake of his head, making the furrow between your brows deepen. He pushes himself off the wall, walking around your room as he seems to be looking around curiously, pictures hanging off the walls, decorations propped up on furniture.

“Nope, I’m fine. Thanks to this new suit…something about impenetrable nanofibers I think.” His hand reaches for a teddy bear, grabbing it as he turns around, propping it in front of his face before he speaks in a higher pitched, mocking voice. “Bad spider, scaring his trusted doctor like that.”

You must admit, he’s ridiculous, watching him do that makes you grin to yourself, rolling your eyes for good measure before you step closer, yanking the teddy away from him as you prop him back into his place. “Hands off, bug boy.”

“Bug boy— really? I’m- I’m not some ladybug, or stink bug. I’m a spider, I shoot webs. I’m cool.” Defending his case, he makes a few “phew” sounds as he pretends to shoot webs all over your room, but you cross your arms, standing still before he stops, leaving silence to settle in for a moment. “Okay, that was ridiculous, not cool at all.” Laughing softly, you bite your lip, taking a look at him.

“Why are you here? Since you’re not hurt…impenetrable nanofibres and all.” Waving a hand jokingly to dismiss the words as he had done earlier, he simply shrugs, moving to pull the curtains shut as a last minute safety measure.

“I guess I just wanted to check in on you, you know? I don’t think I’ll be needing any patchwork done anytime soon.” Ah. So that’s it, he’s come to tell you you’re useless to him now. You toy with your fingers and nod, assuming this is the last time you’ll get to talk to him like this.

“That’s okay. So that means you won’t have any reason to come here anymore.” That seems to make him silent for a few moments, this time it’s awkward, not carrying that comedic effect like before.

“I can still come and see you, you know? We could hang out…as friends.” Your eyes widen. He wants to keep coming to see you. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. Your mouth opens, no words coming out, instead you settle for a small smile and a nod.

This could be good, at least it seems to be that way.

—

Carefully stepping out of your room, holding onto the railing, you sit down on the metal platform, knees pulling up to your chest as you hug the sweater tighter over your body, not letting the cool breeze beat you.

You’re not sure when you picked up smoking as part of your regular routine, all you know is that you’re out in the cold now, trying to take your nicotine fill. Red knuckled hand grasping the lighter in your hand, thumb flicking over the spark wheel a few times until a flame bursts out, burning the tip of the cigarette, taking a drag before stuffing the lighter in the pocket of your sweats.

Watching the cloud of smoke flow up into the air, the back of your head pressed against the brick wall, the cold not being such a bother anymore. “Didn’t anyone tell you those are bad for you?” A familiar voice pulls you out of your own head, he’s crouching on the railing, maintaining his equilibrium perfectly.

Taking another drag as if to humour his words, you sigh. “You’ve got to stop doing that. One day I’ll have a heart attack.” He jumps from the railing, settling down in front of you, legs outstretched as they cage you in, feet pressing to the wall on each side of your body.

Though he’s not touching you at all, the position feels somewhat cosy, offering you a sense of protection. Blowing another lungful of smoke, you hold your hand out to him, offering him a drag. The way his head tilts lets you know he’s thinking about it before his hand reaches for the cigarette, his other tugging his mask up over his lips, exposing his lower face once again.

How is it that just his lips have you in a trance, trying your hardest to build him a portrait in your mind? You’ve never asked to see his real face, though you doubt it he’d actually show it to you. A so-called friend of Spider-man’s.

He puffs out the smoke in a similar manner to you, eyes following the way his tongue wets his slightly chapped lips, trying not to let certain thoughts encompass you. “So how was your night? Any bad guys?” Deflecting with the start of a conversation, you watch as he ashes the cigarette over the railing, passing it back to you.

“Pretty boring, but it’s gotten better.” Fighting the smile his natural charm tries to put on your face, you sigh and knock your foot into the inside of his knee lightly. “Funny…” Your word falls flat, followed by the slightest smile as you give him the last puff, letting him throw it away too.

“You know, for someone who is all about the law, you’re pretty ignorant of littering.” Quirking your brow as if to scold him, you notice him grinning, his mask still pulled up. “My apologies.”

Stargazing and small conversations ensued, he’d switched to resting against the wall right next to you halfway through talking about the moon’s colour tonight, shoulders and arms pressing together, you don’t feel like moving away, more so, wishing to drift closer even if by accident.

Tearing your gaze away from his jaw, you tell yourself how wrong this is, to want to reach out and pull his mask the rest of the way up, wanting to reveal his face. Something about the mystery of it has you yearning for more of him, though that would be insane since you don’t even know his name. All he gave to you was a few hours of his company from time to time.

“No, clearly you’re colour blind.” He feigns shock at your statement, hand pressing over his heart before he tuts with a disappointed look on his face. “Oh baby, don’t talk to me like that..”

He’s joking, of course he is, though the pet name, uttered so softly from his lips, makes you warm up, especially in the cheeks. Nudging your forehead to the side of his shoulder, feeling the solid muscle, yet still somewhat comforting, deciding to leave your head there, not uttering a word as he seems to accept the change in position, tilting your head back to gaze at his side profile.

You hate the way the moon lights up his angles perfectly, how the urge to reach a hand up to his face bubbles up inside of you and how everything is just nearly attainable but still out of reach due to your own self restraint. That doesn’t stop the words from coming out though. “Would you show me your face? I feel like we’ve known each other for a month already and all I’ve seen is that mask of yours.”

You feel dejected as he seems to tense next to you, his plush lips thinner now as they purse together. A beat passes where nothing is said, your head pulling back from his shoulder, gazing at him expectantly before he clears his throat, shaking his head with a small smile on his lips.

“I would, but that’s part of the trick, isn’t it? The whole—y’know, faceless act.” Looking down at your lap, you nod, feeling like he’s reducing you to the random passersby who might see his face while he swings from building to building. Trying to not let the disappointment show on your face, you force your attention back to the moon still high onto the sky, uttering softly.

“Yeah…I get it.”

[miaoua3]

(pairing: hoshi x f!reader)

sitting on the couch in the living room while reading a book to pass the time, you hear the door open and close, meaning that your boyfriend is finally home.

already smiling, you sit and wait to hear with what pickup line you will be greeted with today.

it has become sort of a tradition for soonyoung to say some flirty and silly pickup line upon entering your shared apartment instead of a plain “i’m home.”. yesterday for example, he greeted you with a “what’s brewing, my hot caramel and chocolate latte macchiato?”. they didn’t even make sense, but they were your favourite part of the day.

so, after 15 second of silence after he has entered, you knew immediately that something was wrong.

getting up, you call out “baby? is that you?”.

rounding up the corner, you see him clumsily trying to take off his chunky boots. upon noticing your presence, he mumbles “hm? oh yeah, hi.”.

oh-uh.

you immediately walk towards him, grabbing his round cheeks in your hands gently. directly his face so you can look at him, you coo through a pout. “what’s wrong, baby? did something happen? can i help you somehow?”.

noticing his red eyes slowly blinking at you, your heart breaks just a bit more.

through a quiet mumble, he said “just…it was a long say today. bad and long.”

rubbing his cheeks with your thumbs, you whisper just as quietly as he did “can i do something for you, baby?”.

his shoulder slightly drop in exhaustion as he closes his eyes.

“just hug me…and please don’t let go.”

immediately getting to it, you pull his head down so it rests on your shoulder before pulling the rest of him towards you. his arms immediately snake around your waist while he rubs his face (and all of his makeup) on your shoulder.

the entire time you just let your hands run up and down his back and head, shushing him whenever you feel his shoulder unconsciously tense up, probably because his mind can’t stop thinking about whatever things happened to him today and that got him feeling this stressed.

after what must’ve felt like half an hour (when in reality it was just 10 minutes) of hugging, you mumble against his ear “do you want me to prepare you something to eat? i went to your parents’ today, your mom gave me some kimchi to bring you, i could maybe make something with it while you take a shower?”.

upon you mentioning shower and insinuating for you two to separate, you feel his whole body tense up again, his head shaking ‘no’ firmly.

sensing that he will get upset again, you just say “okay, let’s just go to bed then, hm?”.

with a curt nod from him, you waddle to your room awkwardly while still holding him to yourself.

helping him change out of his clothes and into his pyjamas, you quickly help him take his makeup off and wash his face, never straying too far away and always keeping at least one hand on any part of his body.

finally, as you two lay down on your bed, he immediately crawls on top of you, forgetting that he’s a bit heavy and that he is definitely cutting off your breathing for the moment because of his weight on top of your chest.

but you ignore it, for the moment. because your soonyoungie, the love of your life, is seeking out your affection in hopes that his bad day can at least end on somewhat of a positive note.

you don’t even realise when he fell asleep until you hear low snoring from him, totally concentrated on playing with his short blonde hair.

feeling the dreamland calling for your name too, you kiss the top of his head before you close your eyes too.

“sweet dreams, my sweet boy.”

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 20

Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst

A/N: im scheduling 3 of these to post back to bsck lol hopefully it works 😇🤣

The three of you were sprawled across the living room floor, wine glasses in hand, surrounded by face masks, nail polish bottles, and the kind of snacks you’d regret in the morning. Wanda had taken it upon herself to paint your toes, and you giggled as she playfully swatted at your ankle to keep you still.

“Stop squirming,” she said, trying to keep a steady hand. “You’re gonna mess it up.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, taking another sip of wine. “But it tickles.”

Natasha sat cross-legged beside you, a clay mask drying on her face, her wine glass already nearly empty. She was watching you both with an amused smile, though her eyes flickered with a faint shadow of something heavier.

The conversation had been light—work drama, a funny story from Wanda’s day, a ridiculous TikTok—but the wine was starting to loosen your tongues. Feeling the moment, you took a deep breath and decided to jump in headfirst.

“So,” you said casually, but your voice carried enough weight to grab their attention. “What are we going to do about Steve?”

Natasha froze, her wine glass halfway to her lips. Wanda’s brush paused mid-stroke on your pinky toe, and both women turned to look at you.

Natasha recovered first, setting her glass down and crossing her arms. “What do you mean?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

You raised an eyebrow, not letting her off the hook. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Natasha hesitated, glancing at Wanda, whose wide-eyed expression made it clear she was just as curious. When Nat didn’t say anything, you leaned back on your hands and sighed. “I don’t know how I missed it, honestly. It was written all over you last night.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, and with a muttered “Oh, for God’s sake,” she grabbed the wine bottle and poured herself another glass, chugging half of it before setting it down with a dramatic clink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said flatly, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

Wanda let out a soft laugh, finishing your toes and sitting back. “Oh, Nat. We love you, but that’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard.”

Natasha shot her a glare, but you didn’t back down. “Come on, Nat,” you pressed gently. “It’s us. Just be honest. What do you want to do about Steve?”

Natasha exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair and smudging a bit of her drying mask. “What can I do?” she said, her voice sharper than she intended. “He’s still hung up on you. Always has been. I don’t want to be anybody’s second choice.”

Wanda immediately shook her head, her expression fierce. “That is impossible. Once Steve realizes how much of an idiot he’s being, he’ll see what’s right in front of him.”

You nodded in agreement, leaning closer. “Wanda’s right. I couldn’t agree more. But what do you want, Nat? What do you really want?”

For a moment, Natasha didn’t answer. She stared into her wine glass, her face unreadable. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet but raw. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve been on the outside looking in for so long that I guess I’m just… used to it. It’s easier to stay there than to hope for something that might not happen.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy with unspoken pain. You reached out, resting a hand on hers. “Nat, you deserve to be happy. You deserve someone who loves you, who’s crazy about you.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, well… I don’t want Steve to be the one that got away. Like you are to him.”

Your heart clenched at her words. “It’s not like that,” you said softly.

Natasha’s eyes met yours, her expression firm but kind. “Of course it is,” she said. “And it’s not your fault. It’s just the way things are. But he has to get over you before anything can happen between us.”

Wanda’s hand found Natasha’s, squeezing gently. “You’re not wrong,” she said softly. “But that doesn’t mean it’s hopeless.”

You nodded, your chest tight with emotion. “Steve just needs time. And when he finally lets himself see you for who you really are to him… Nat, I know it’ll be worth it.”

Natasha’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though her eyes were still clouded with doubt. “I hope you’re right,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell into a brief silence, the weight of the conversation settling over all three of you. But then Wanda, ever the ray of sunshine, clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough doom and gloom. Gimme your feet Nat, your next!”

The tension broke, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Natasha rolled her eyes but nodded, holding out her wine glass. “Fine. But only if you promise not to paint my toes like a five-year-old.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and teasing, but Natasha’s words lingered in your mind. You couldn’t shake the hope that, somehow, everything would fall into place for her—and for Steve.

The apartment was alive with laughter, the clinking of beer bottles, and the occasional groan as someone lost a hand of poker. Sam sat sprawled on the couch, his feet kicked up on the coffee table, while Bucky leaned back in his chair, shuffling the deck with practiced ease. Steve was seated across from them, quieter than usual, nursing a drink and staring at his phone a little too intently.

“Alright, boys,” Bucky said, smirking as he dealt the cards. “Prepare to lose whatever dignity you have left.”

Sam snorted, reaching for his beer. “Big talk for someone who still owes me twenty bucks from last time.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’ll take it out of my poker chips tonight.”

The banter was light, the atmosphere easy—at least on the surface. But the undercurrent of tension was impossible to ignore, especially with Steve’s unusually subdued demeanor. He hadn’t laughed at Sam’s jokes, hadn’t chimed in on Bucky’s playful jabs, and his replies were clipped, almost robotic.

As the game progressed, Sam turned the conversation to safer, more personal waters. “So, Buck,” he began, his tone casual but his grin mischievous, “how’s the love life? Things going okay with your girl?”

Bucky’s face softened immediately, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “Okay?” he repeated, shaking his head. “Sam, she’s everything. She’s smart, kind, funny… she keeps me on my toes. I mean, I don’t know how I got so lucky. It’s like—” He paused, his blue eyes lighting up as he searched for the right words. “It’s like every time I look at her, I realize she’s my home, you know? She’s it for me, I hate how long it took for me to get my shit together.”

Sam let out a low whistle, leaning back with a wide smile. “Damn, Barnes. That’s the good stuff. I’m so happy for you, man.”

Bucky chuckled, clearly flustered but grateful for the encouragement. “Thanks, man. It’s about time, right?”

But while Sam’s smile remained genuine, Steve’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. His cards remained untouched in front of him as he stared at the table, his drink abandoned.

“Yup,” Steve said abruptly, his tone short and flat. “That’s great.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked to him, narrowing slightly. “You good, Stevie?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, glancing at his phone again. “Just… got some stuff on my mind.”

Before Bucky could press further, Steve stood up abruptly, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pocket. “I gotta go somewhere.”

Sam straightened in his seat, his eyebrows furrowing. “Go where? It’s poker night.”

“Just something I gotta take care of,” Steve replied, his tone distant as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “Don’t wait up.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Bucky and Sam staring after him, bewildered.

“What the hell was that about?” Bucky muttered, sitting back in his chair, his brows knitting together in concern.

Sam let out a nervous chuckle, running a hand over his face. “Man, I don’t know.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, watching Sam closely. “Alright, spill. What’s got you looking like you’re about to jump out of your skin? Is it why Steve left?”

Sam hesitated, clearly torn. “It’s not about Steve.”

“Then what is it?” Bucky pressed, his tone softening. “I know it’s not just because I’m kicking your ass at poker.”

Sam sighed heavily, setting his cards down and rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. I was gonna wait, but… I got an offer. A big one. Job-wise.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s great, man. What’s the problem?”

Sam leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his expression conflicted. “It’s out of town. Way out of town. Like, completely out of state. It’s a great opportunity, Buck. Better pay, more responsibility, and I’d get to work with a nonprofit I’ve been following for years. But… it means leaving all of this. Leaving you guys.”

Bucky’s expression softened as he processed Sam’s words. “Shit, Sam. That’s… big.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, laughing bitterly. “Tell me about it. I’ve been sitting on it for a week, trying to figure out if it’s the right move.”

Bucky leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “And? What’s your gut telling you?”

Sam shrugged, his shoulders heavy with uncertainty. “My gut’s telling me to go for it. But my heart? My heart’s telling me it’s gonna suck, leaving everyone behind.”

Bucky nodded slowly, his eyes steady on Sam. “Look, man. I can’t tell you what to do, but… you gotta do what’s right for you. We’ll still be here, no matter where you are.”

Sam looked up, his eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper, something almost fragile. “You mean that?”

“Of course,” Bucky said firmly. “You’ve been here for us through everything. It’s our turn to be here for you.”

Sam let out a shaky breath, nodding. “Thanks, Buck. That… that means a lot.”

Bucky grinned, clapping Sam on the shoulder. “Now, don’t think I’m gonna let you leave without kicking your ass at poker at least one more time.”

Sam laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Bring it on, Barnes. Bring it on.”

But even as the mood lightened, both of them couldn’t help but glance at the door Steve had walked through, wondering what storm might be brewing behind his quiet exit.

The farmers market was its usual lively self—vendors calling out deals, the scent of fresh bread and flowers wafting through the air, and the hum of chatter everywhere. You walked arm-in-arm with Bucky, the soft brush of his hand against yours grounding you.

“Where’s Steve?” you asked, glancing around the booths for the familiar blond head.

Sam, walking ahead, glanced back over his shoulder. “Said he couldn’t make it today.”

You frowned slightly, your chest tightening at the thought. “Okay,” you murmured. “Next time.”

Natasha shrugged from beside you, but her quick glance toward Wanda betrayed her curiosity. If she had any deeper thoughts, she didn’t share them, instead wandering off toward a display of ceramics. The sight made you smile.

The group naturally splintered into pairs, each gravitating toward their favorite stalls. You and Bucky hung back, trailing through the market at a leisurely pace, his hand brushing yours every so often, an intimate yet casual connection. The weight of the locket resting against your collarbone felt comforting, grounding you to the present.

Nearby, Natasha let out a delighted squeal, holding up a small ceramic cow. “Oh my God, look at this!” she exclaimed, waving it in your direction. “It’ll go perfectly with the rooster and duck I already got Steve.”

You and Bucky exchanged amused glances, both of you laughing softly. “Nat,” you teased, walking over to her, “are you building him a farm?”

“Practically,” Sam muttered, shaking his head as he joined the conversation. “Goddamn, Nat. You’re going to have the whole barnyard at my house next.”

Natasha just grinned, holding the cow close. “Or something,” she said cryptically, turning back to the vendor to pay. Sam rolled his eyes, muttering something about barn animals under his breath as he dragged Bucky off toward the crepe stand.

Wanda busied herself at the flower stall nearby, selecting a bright bouquet of daisies and sunflowers. Meanwhile, you wandered toward the jewelry stall where the locket had been, unable to resist curiosity. You’d gotten the locket back, thanks to Steve, but you wanted to piece together the rest of the story.

“Excuse me,” you said to the vendor, offering her a polite smile. “A while ago, there was a locket here—this one.” You touched the small gold heart resting against your chest. “Do you remember it?”

The vendor’s eyes lit up as she nodded. “Oh, I remember that locket very well. My granddaughter found it at a party. She thought it was worth something and brought it to me.”

“Your granddaughter?” you echoed, your heart skipping a beat. “Who is she?”

“Her name’s Kate,” the woman said, her tone warm and fond.

You froze for a moment, blinking in surprise. “Kate?” The name felt heavy on your tongue. “Wow… small world.” you muttered

The woman nodded, her gaze flicking to the locket on your neck. “And then that sweet young man bought it. He was so determined to get it for you.”

Your heart clenched at the thought of Steve, the memory of him giving it back to you still fresh. “He did,” you said softly. “He brought it back to me. I’d lost it at a party, and… it meant a lot to me.”

The woman smiled knowingly. “He talked about you the whole time he was here. The way he spoke, you’d think the sun rose and set on you. I always wondered about the two of you, did you end up together yet?”

You didn’t know what to say, your throat tightening at the words. "No, we, I -- " Before you could fully respond, warm arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you back into the present.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky murmured against your ear, his voice low and affectionate. “What’re you up to over here?”

You tilted your head to look up at him, his closeness making you smile automatically. “Just… reminiscing.”

The vendor’s eyes softened as she watched the two of you, a twinkle of understanding in her gaze. “Ah,” she said simply, her voice rich with amusement. “Now, that makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Bucky asked, his brows knitting together as he looked between you and the woman.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” she replied with a wink. “Enjoy your day.”

Bucky’s hand rested protectively on your lower back as he guided you away, his expression puzzled. “What was that about?”

“Just a little backstory about the locket,” you said, touching it lightly. “She was telling me how her granddaughter found it at a party. Apparently, Kate brought it here.”

His brow furrowed. “Kate? Seriously? Small world.”

“Very,” you murmured, the warmth of his touch and the reassurance of his presence grounding you.

“Anyway,” he said, nudging you gently. “Sam’s probably inhaled three crepes already. We should catch up.”

You laughed, letting him lead you toward the crepe stand where Sam and Natasha were already bickering about toppings. But as you glanced back one last time at the jewelry booth, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of how everything, somehow, had come full circle.

The apartment felt emptier than usual. The clock ticked past ten, and Bucky still wasn’t home. You sat on the couch, your laptop balanced on your knees, pretending to focus on some edits for work. But your eyes kept flicking to the door, your thoughts spinning.

You knew Bucky’s schedule like the back of your hand. You worked for the same company, after all. There wasn’t a meeting or late deadline you hadn’t already accounted for. So where was he?

Your phone sat untouched on the coffee table. No texts. No calls. A creeping sense of unease settled in your chest, mingling with irritation. He always let you know if he was running late—always. Until tonight.

By the time you heard his keys jangling in the lock, it was almost ten. The door opened, and there he was, his hair slightly disheveled, his shirt untucked. He looked exhausted but smiled the moment he saw you.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted, kicking off his boots and heading toward you.

You closed your laptop with a sharp snap, your jaw tight. “Hey?” you repeated, your voice tinged with annoyance.

Bucky’s smile faltered. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” You stood, setting the laptop on the coffee table. “You’re two hours late, Bucky. You didn’t call. You didn’t text. I’ve been sitting here worried sick.”

He blinked, caught off guard by the intensity in your tone. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. I got caught up with uh Sam after work. We went for a drink—”

“A drink?” you interrupted, your voice rising. “You know your schedule, and you know I know it too. You could’ve told me. It’s not that hard to send a text.”

Bucky frowned, stepping closer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it’d be such a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “We’ve barely started this relationship, and you’re already pulling this?”

“Pulling what?” His voice edged with frustration now. “I’m not ‘pulling’ anything. I went for a drink with my best friend, and I’m sorry I didn’t text. But this—this feels like an overreaction.”

You recoiled slightly, his words stinging. “Overreaction?” You laughed bitterly. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about tonight, Bucky. It’s about us. About whether you actually take this seriously.”

“Seriously?” he repeated, his voice rising. “You think I’m not serious about you?”

“Well, you’re not exactly proving it right now!”

His jaw tightened, his blue eyes flashing with hurt. “Doll, you’re reading too much into this. It was one night. I didn’t think I needed to check in like I was some damn teenager.”

“Maybe you should’ve,” you fired back, your voice cracking. “Because that’s what people in relationships do, Bucky. They care enough to let the other person know what’s going on! I got scared, what if something happened to you? What if i lost you before i even had you! Or what if you dont actually want this or care about me or, or--”

The words hung heavy between you, the silence sharp and suffocating.

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t care about you?” he asked quietly, his voice softer now, but no less pained. “That’s what you think?”

You hesitated, your anger warring with the guilt creeping in. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I’ve been scared, Bucky. That if something goes wrong, we’ll fall apart. That this won’t last.”

Bucky stepped closer, his expression softening as he reached for your hand. “Doll,” he murmured, his tone gentle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I messed up tonight. I should’ve texted. You’re right. I would have been upset if you didn’t tell me either, I’m sorry”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “I just don’t want to lose you,” you said, your voice breaking. "I cant lose you”

“You won’t,” he promised, his grip on your hand tightening. “I swear. I’ll do better. I want this—us. More than anything.”

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the tension slowly melting under the weight of his sincerity. Then, before you could overthink it, you surged forward, your lips crashing into his.

Bucky responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you flush against him. The kiss was desperate and heated, years of pent-up longing pouring out all at once. His hands roamed your back, his fingers digging into your skin as if grounding himself in you.

You pulled back slightly, breathless, your hands cupping his face. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that again,” you whispered.

“Never,” he vowed, his voice husky. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

The two of you stumbled toward the couch, his hands tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I just can’t keep my hands off you,” he murmured, his lips brushing your jawline.

You laughed softly, tilting your head to give him better access. “Remember,” you teased, “you’re the one who wanted to take things slow.”

Bucky pulled back slightly, his lips curling into a smirk. “Maybe I’ve changed my mind.”

You grinned, tugging him back down for another kiss. But before things could go any further, your phone buzzed loudly on the coffee table, breaking the moment.

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “Of course.”

Bucky chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’s for the best,” he said, though his darkened eyes betrayed just how badly he wanted to ignore it.

You looked up at him, arching a brow. “How long are you going to make me wait, Barnes?”

His lips twitched into a smile as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Soon, doll,” he promised. “No one wants this more than me. But I want to do it right.”

You sighed, nodding. “Okay. But don’t keep me waiting too long.”

“Never,” he said, standing and pulling you up with him. “Now get that pretty ass up. I brought dinner.”

You laughed, swatting his arm as he grabbed his phone. “Also,” he added with a smirk, “next time I’m late, just spam me like Wanda spams the group chat.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest told you everything would be just fine.

You sit across from Sam, your lunch tray untouched as he stirs his soup absentmindedly. You notice he’s quieter than usual, a far cry from his typical animated self.

“So,” you start, trying to break the silence, “are you going to tell me what’s got you looking like you lost your best friend, or am I supposed to guess?”

Sam chuckles softly, but the sound lacks its usual warmth. He sets his spoon down and leans back in his chair, meeting your curious gaze. “I wanted to tell you first. I mean, out of the whole group.”

Your stomach tightens at his serious tone. “Tell me what?”

He hesitates for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I got a promotion.”

The words take a moment to sink in, and when they do, your face lights up. “Sam, that’s amazing! Why do you look like someone kicked your dog? This is huge!”

“It is,” he agrees, his smile faltering. “But there’s a catch. The position is… halfway across the country. I’d have to move.”

Your heart sinks. “Oh.” The excitement in your voice fades, replaced by a bittersweet pang in your chest. “When?”

“In a couple of weeks, maybe less,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s why I’ve been so MIA this week. I’ve been at the VA, getting all the logistics sorted out.”

You nod slowly, the news settling heavily over you. “Wow. That’s… a lot to process. But Sam,” you say, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand, “this is incredible. I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “Thanks. It means a lot to hear that from you.”

A thought flickers in your mind, something not quite adding up. “Wait,” you say cautiously. “You’ve been at the VA all week?”

Sam nods. “Yeah, pretty much. I haven’t seen anyone. You’re the first person I’ve had time to sit down with.”

Confusion twists in your stomach. “You didn’t see Bucky?” you ask slowly.

He frowns. “No. Why?”

You pause, debating whether to bring it up. “He told me he went out for a drink with you the other night,” you say carefully.

Sam’s eyebrows lift in surprise before he shakes his head. “Nope, not me. I mean, maybe he went with someone else, but it wasn’t me.”

You try to push down the unease creeping into your chest. Bucky lying to you? It doesn’t make sense. But you decide to tuck the thought away for now.

“So, who else knows about your promotion?” you ask, steering the conversation back.

“Bucky,” Sam admits with a small grin. “He found out on guys’ night. But don’t be mad at him. I made him promise not to say anything until I was ready.”

“Of course I’m not mad,” you say quickly. “I get it. It’s your news to share, not his.”

Sam looks relieved and leans forward, his expression soft. “I’m gonna miss this, you know. Just hanging out with you, laughing about dumb stuff. You’ve been one of my closest friends for years.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now,” you tease, though your throat tightens with emotion. “We’re not getting rid of you that easily. You’ll visit, right?”

“Of course,” he says firmly. “And you better come visit me, too. I expect postcards, care packages, the whole deal.”

You laugh, but the weight of the news still lingers in the air. As you finish your lunch, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s off. But for now, you focus on Sam, determined to make the most of the time you have left with him.

[not-rigel]

The color Blue

warnings: SAD, I cried writing this, sevika mourning isha, descriptions of grief

WC: 830

Sevika is sitting in her office, sifting through documents when theres a knock at her door. She grants whoever is there entry. They enter the room carrying a package, it's an expensive looking box and Sevika rolls her eyes at how gaudy it looks. Leave it to Piltover to make their packages fancy for no good reason.

"From the Kirraman estate,"  the delivery person tells her. She hasn't interacted with Caitlyn in months, not since they fought deep in the underground. The arrival of a package puzzles her. But she's had too a long day of failing to agree with the other councilmembers to care too much about anything right now.

Sevika nods to a chair, "Set it over there."

The delivery person sets the box onto the chair then hurriedly leaves the room. Sevika resumes reading over the documents until her eyes hurt and her head aches. She was questioning her strength, how much longer she could handle councilors barring her progress whenever they could. Everytime she felt she was making strides in securing Zaun's future, they'd band against her and dismiss her proposals. She could handle their looks of disgust, she could handle when they mentioned her past with Silco, but she couldn't handle the pressure. She has to do something right by her people or what was the point in being a councilor at all?

Sevika shoves all the papers from her desk, dispirited from all her recent failures. She was so alone and she was falling apart all over again, just like when Silco died. She shoves the emotion down, not allowing herself to feel it until she was ready to unbox it.

Sevika looks over at the package, thinking that she might need the distraction. She leaves her desk, walking over to the chair the box in sat in. She has some trouble getting it open, only having one arm. She can't wear her mechanical arm while up Topside, it's been considered a weapon and banned.

Eventually the package breaks open and what's inside breaks her. Her entire body is uncomfortably hot, like someone replaced all her blood with lightning. Inside the box was Isha's little hat. It was more tattered and torn than it was the last time she saw it. Gods, what did her little baby go through? Tucked next to her hat, was a letter. 

Sevika plucks the letter from the box, unfolding the paper to read the contents.

"I went back to where it happened. Not that I could change anything but just to remember. I ended up finding this and I couldn't just leave it there. I'm sorry I couldnt save her. I heard what she is to you so maybe you need this more than I do.

-Vi"

The note begins to blur then Sevika realizes she is crying. Her tears continue to obscure her vision and wet the letter, smudging the words. She tries to wipe them away with her wrist but new tears replace them immediately.

She can't do this right now, can't have these emotions. She can't breathe. Each word on the paper, each feeling she shoved below her chest came back without permission to choke her. They wrapped their fingers around her throat and wouldn't let go, no matter how much she scratched at then. She needs to fight this off, needs to survive the threat trying to kill her.

Sevika throws her body around, throws anything she can grab. There's no point in it, just run and push and shove until the grief releases its chokehold. But it's not letting go. She can't hear the bookshelf crashing onto the floor, just sees her hand shoving item after item. This usually worked, why wasn't it working this time?

The grief weakens her and she sinks into the floor, not able to stop the tears. It's the worst pain she's felt. But as soon as she lays on the floor, grabbing Isha's hat from where she left it and holds it to her chest, the grief stops choking her. Instead it hugs her back. Isha was too sweet, too beautiful.

Sevika reminisced the moments they had together. Where Isha would fall asleep in her arms, head resting on her shoulder. When Sevika would tease Isha for practically being Jinx's shadow. How Isha mimicked Sevika, making a little cardboard arm to fit over her own and they'd playfight.

Sevika is so proud of Isha but so angry that she was so familiar with violence. Sevika tried all she could to keep her away from it. But that little girl couldnt stay away. Or maybe violence couldnt stay away from her. Maybe violence chased Isha until peace took her.

Sevika forgets time as she remembers Isha for the first time, thinking of every beautiful thing that little girl was. Isha was the color blue. Isha was little rabbit ears. Isha was a head nuzzling into her shoulder. Isha was the reason Sevika fought. Isha is the reason Sevika fights.