#but I texted her a few months ago and she still hasn’t responded which is weird

[heavenlycloud]

arachnophobia~ spiderman au  kim minji x fem! reader

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

authors note: i wrote this for @tzuyuscloud months ago for their birthday and never got around to posting it. i don't plan on writing for nwjns in the future tho, this was just a special request for a friend!

p.s. im sick rn and running on soda, pancakes, and cough syrup so i hope this makes sense cuz im a lil hopped up on stuff rn

tw// swearing, blood, violence

the clock tower across campus struck loudly across campus, indicating the top of the hour. you rolled your eyes at the sound and wished they’d only use it during daylight hours instead of when everyone was trying to sleep. diverting your attention back to your laptop, you added a few more sentences to the Literature paper you were writing before closing the top. it was deep into the night so you quickly washed up and changed into pajamas before heading off to bed since you had a morning class. an hour must have passed when you jumped upon hearing a loud thud followed by a crash of items clattering to the floor in the room nearest yours. quickly, you sprang up and tried to open your roommate’s door which was locked from the other side. for a moment it was silent which only made you frantically jiggle the doorknob harder in an attempt to help the girl on the other side. loudly, you called out, “minji?! are you good bro?” from the other side of the door you could hear her cussing rapidly in english and korean in a hushed whisper. after a moment she called out, voice slightly strained, “yeah uh i’m fine. i just knocked over some stuff on my nightstand. i’m fine though you can leave.” you furrowed your brows in confusion before awkwardly answering, “uh.. um okay yeah. goodnight, i’ll see you in class tomorrow morning.”  right when you settled into bed you thought aloud to yourself, “what nightstand? we don’t even have those in our rooms?” however, you didn’t let yourself think too much of it and shrugged off the thought so you could go back to sleep. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ 

the next morning you woke up and got dressed for class as you normally did but this morning minji wasn’t getting ready with you. instead of thinking too much of it, you told yourself she was probably sleeping in a few minutes longer. nine o’ clock rolled around and minji was still nowhere to be found so you went to her door and banged on it, LOUDLY. when there was still no answer you called out, “minji- bro come on we have our literature exam today! lets go!” for nearly two minutes you were calling out to her before you had to leave. minji wasn’t one to skip class so you just stuck with thinking maybe she got an earlier start and was already in class. the walk to the lecture hall was quieter than normal without minji by your side. your roommate’s daily spiel of gossip that she’d overheard from classmates was dearly missed at this early hour. the second you walked into your lecture hall, one of your other classmates, haewon, waved you over. she groaned and put down the book she was skimming in her hand, “god i can’t wait for this lesson to be over.” she pushed the text away from her in disgust, and you laughed, “well we have the exam today, and the paper due next class so it’ll be over soon!” she looked past you a bit then asked, “wait where’s minji?” you craned your neck and squinted to try and see if she was in the large lecture hall but she still hadn’t shown. with a shrug you responded, “i don’t know. i thought she was already here but i guess not.” haewon pulled out her phone and frowned, “she hasn’t texted me either…” before the two of you could do anything else, your professor entered the classroom with a thick packet of exams. your stomach wound itself into knots at the realization that minji would be missing this exam. she had already missed class six times this semester, so this absence would be the one to make a failing grade for the semester. when your professor got to your row with the exams in hand, she looked at the empty seat next to you with a face of disapproval. you awkwardly gave a weak smile and passed the packets down your row before starting on your own test. 

half an hour passed leaving 45 minutes left in the class before you all had to leave. from the looks of your other classmates, this exam was a tough one. beside you, haewon was sound asleep with her exam under her arms. you looked up at the door when you heard rushed footsteps and labored breathing, followed by the door closing. minji rushed up to her seat and sat down, not sparing a second to catch her breath before starting her exam. her appearance was slightly more dishevled than she’d normally deem acceptable but you remained silent. for the rest of the exam period you worked on the test trying to match paces with haewon and minji so that the two of you could leave together at the end. despite arriving thirty minutes late for class, minji managed to complete her exam in fifteen minutes, before you and haewon. not even a minute after the three of you exited the classroom you demanded, “bro, where the hell were you this morning?” haewon agreed and added on, “yeah and why are you dressed like adam sandler?” the two of you onced over the oversized t shirt and baggy basketball shorts that she sported with a pair of sneakers you’d never seen before. you wrinkled your nose and added, “and why do you smell like a burnt gas station?” 

minji shrugged off your questions as nonchalantly as she could, “there was an emergency at HQ and they called me in to help-” you cut her off, “wouldn’t they just call someone else? you don’t even work there?” minji’s cheeks flushed at the realization that you had a point and she quickly explained, “it was one of those ‘all hands on deck’ things. i was available to help so i did. anyways, i was tired so i stayed with a friend who lived nearby, and i had to borrow some clothes. and i was fixing hanni’s car again, it stopped on the side of the road because she forgot to fill it with gas, it’s not a big deal.” you pretended to be unbothered by the remark but something about the slight limp she had and bruises on her legs made your stomach wind into knots. when you looked back up at her face she caught your eyes lingering on her shins with a slightly uneasy stare. nervously she laughed, “lets go to JavaBean before our next class, my treat.” haewon was already linking arms with you and tugging you along, happily murmuring, “i love that she has that new internship with Samsung. i don’t have to pay for stuff anymore because she keeps treating us.” 

haewon turned her phone around and showed you and minji the screen, “did you all see this? that spiderperson stopped a bunch of people from robbing a bank downtown last night! they released the footage this morning.” you watched as the masked assailents attempted to take on the local hero all at once. from the corner of your eye you could see minji shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she watched the video. you looked at her and asked, “isn’t this place right by the samsung building you were at last night? and the footage says it happened around the time you were out. did you see anything?” minji’s eyes widened and she looked down at her iced latte, “no i was inside the building working. we heard the sirens but i didn’t see anything besides police cars up from the windows on my floor.” haewon pouted and said, “damn i wish you’d seen something. i wanna know who this hero is- they’re kinda hot.” you and minji choked on your iced coffees and you laughed, “they wear a mask, you don’t even know if they’re actually hot.” haewon explained, “i mean the act of kicking ass in a spandex suit is hot. but i wouldn’t be surprised if they were good looking too. i’ve seen movies.” minji laughed and shook her head before you turned your attention back to the video. you noticed the way the hero crumpled to the ground when one of the robbers kicked their left knee, coincidentally the same one minji had been babying all day. 

at the end of the school day you found minji in the main room of your shared apartment with her laptop over her lap, and chemistry papers scattered around the coffee table. the second she noticed your presence she slammed her laptop closed and scrambled to gather her papers and tuck them away. you furrowed your brows and awkwardly laughed, “why are you acting like a 12 year old getting caught on a 18+ website?” minji’s face was flushed red with panic and she tried to play it off, “just some uh…classified work stuff that’s all?” you pointed to her laptop, “and you’re doing highly classified work on a school laptop connected to public wifi?” minji rolled her eyes and shoved her computer into her backpack without a response, clearly having gotten caught in her lie. your gaze shifted to her legs where she now wore a pair of sweatpants, your sweatpants to be specific. her long sleeved t shirt rode up on one of her arms and your stomach formed a pit when you noticed small scratches and bruises along her skin. 

“what happened?” you asked, motioning to her arms with a curious but stern glance. minji quickly tugged her sleeve down and murmured, “nothing, don’t worry about it.” for a moment you almost let it go but decided otherwise knowing whatever was happening would continue if you didn’t try to help. you insisted, “no. you need to tell me what the hell is going on.” minji gave you a confused look and you persisted, “this whole thing where you’re disappearing late at night and not coming home? you keep blowing me and haewon off, not to mention that girl hanni came here the other night in tears thinking something happened to you because you hadn’t answered her calls in a week. why the hell do you keep coming back beat up and bruised?!” minji felt her face heat up and she immediately responded much more defensively than before, “i said don’t worry about it.” she got up and pushed past you before slamming her door, shaking the entire apartment with the force. 

for hours you tried to rationalize why minji was suddenly keeping so many secrets from you. what the hell was so secretive about a technology company internship, and why was it that she was only working on projects at night? the more you thought about the whole thing the more stuff started to make less sense. two weeks passed and you noticed minji coming in and out of your dorm at late hours, or just not coming home at all even more. although it wasn’t unusual for her to disappear during the night but you brushed it off knowing that she had that high demand, super prestigious Samsung internship. your suspicions only started to rise further when her bruises and bumps were too noticeable to hide. minji was more closed off towards you and all of your friends and you just missed your roommate, the dork with a 9:30 bedtime, a hermit crab collection, and a love for harry potter. so naturally you decided that you were going to figure out where she was constantly disappearing to since she wouldn’t ever give you a direct answer. 

minji left your apartment around 9:00 pm with the excuse of going out to meet a friend for the night, and potentially spending the night. you opened the find my iphone app on your home screen and opened it to see where minji really was. sure enough she was not at a friends house and actually in some old warehouse downtown. you followed the gps to the location and mumbled quietly to haewon who was on facetime, “what would she even be doing over there?” haewon shrugged and answered, “maybe she knows someone in there, you know that place is full of squatters.” you rolled your eyes and said, “she only talks to four people including us and her uncle. i’m not close with that hanni girl she’s friends with but i don’t think she squats in an old metal factory. but i’m here so i’m gonna hang up.” haewon told you firmly, “okay but if anything happens you need to leave okay?” you nodded and hung up before tucking your phone into your pocket. 

there was nearly no light inside of the old factory, just a few yellowed bulbs illuminating a few feet ahead of you. broken windows offered rays of moonlight to pool where the bulbs couldn’t, making it only a bit brighter. you pulled your black hood over your head and tucked yourself into a dark corner of the factory just to see if minji was actually there. a group of burly men were huddled together around the center of the floor, taunting a smaller figure between all of them. when one of them moved you saw the familiar carnelian red and navy blue spider suit peeked from the middle. you gasped and felt your heart sink as the men tormented the hero who was already in bad shape. instead of staying you looked at your phone to see that minji’s location was now somewhere else in the city. despite wanting to stay and possibly help the young hero, you knew that it was safer for you to sneak out the way you came in. quickly, you hustled down a flight of stairs and slipped out one of the broken walls into a dark alleyway that would lead to a main street after a few blocks. as you walked down the street you turned back when you heard a blood curdling scream, it sounded all too familiar but you turned back and listened to haewon’s advice, hoping to the heavens above the person screaming wasn’t your best friend. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ 

walking alone at night in this sketchy part of town wasn’t ideal but public transit wasn’t running at this hour and you weren’t paying for an uber because it wasn’t cheap. you could feel a pair of eyes on you despite nobody being around so you quickend your steps. just as you were about to break into a run a man jumped out from the darkness and blocked your path. there was a sinister smile on his face as he asked, “what’s a pretty thing like you doing out alone at this hour?” you swallowed your fear and stood your ground best you could, “going home. now, excuse me.” you tried to slip by him and the wall just for him to pin your body against it, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. 

the man’s face was inches from yours, his breath smelled of cigarettes and alcohol as it ghosted your lips when he smiled, “what’re you doin sweetpea?” you looked him dead in the eye and kept a stoic face before jamming your knee upwards, hitting him straight in the groin. he stumbled back and staggered onto the ground and you looked over him before kicking him in the same spot, adding one hard stomp after just for good measure. you then took off running, hearing him suddenly yelp you turned around to see the local hero in the spider suit shooting webs at him, sticking him to the alley wall. your eyes met the hero and you heard them yell, “run Y/N!” you didn’t even waste another second before you ran all the way back to your apartment, locking the doors behind you and barracading the door. it was after you took a shower and changed into your pajamas that you realized the masked hero said your name, and suddenly it all clicked. to test your theory, you needed solid, undeniable proof that your roommate was not who she said she was. 

you peeked into minji’s room through the cracked open door she had and you smiled seeing her window was in fact open. that’s definitely how she was getting in and out of your apartment every night without opening the front door. without wasting a second you pulled the window closed and locked it as tight as you could with a satisfied grin on your face. all you had to do now was wait for minji to get back home. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ 

hours passed and after one long and surprisingly painful mission, minji was finally rushing back to your shared apartment. she sprinted across the grassy quad as quickly as she could, praying that nobody was going to be outside at this time of night. she frantically attempted to use her web shooters to swing up into the trees, her usual and most secretive way of getting around. however, after the fights she had last night and tonight, she knew it was a long shot. the teenage superhero smiled when she heard a familiar click, but it fell when her web shooters released a thin, miniscule amount of webs that wasn’t even the size of her arm. she cursed under her breath knowing she’d had to fix that before going to sleep, but all she wanted now was to get back into her room. finally she got to her dorm and looked up at her window which sat on the fourth floor of the dorm building you both were assigned to. she began climbing up, wincing as pain seared through her entire body but specifically on her abdomen where a nasty gash was still leaking blood. 

a feeling of dread washed over her when she realized her window was both closed and locked which she never did. she will admit she’d been out of it recently, forgetting to do some school assignments, showing up to club meetings, and she’d even screwed up on tonight’s mission resulting in the bloody wound on her side. the feeling of dread was replaced with panic when she heard a couple of students walking a short distance away. there were only a few seconds to spare before she was spotted so she scanned the floor to see if any windows were open. she saw yours, wide open just asking for her to enter. minji held her breath, hoping and praying that you would be asleep tonight. she quickly crawled through your window and up your walls onto the ceiling in an attempt to exit through your door to her room. the superhero made it to the middle of your ceiling when your light flicked on and you gasped, “ahh! what the fuck?! what the fuck? what the FUCK?!” you yanked the broom from your closet and started smacking the masked individual on your ceiling with it. just like a real spider, minji quickly dashed from one side of your ceiling to another, almost making it out of your room. that was until the broom jammed right into her abdomen, making her scream in pain and fall onto your floor with a loud thud. 

you immediately reached forward and snatched the mask off her head, ready to swing the broom on the stranger again and call the police. a small gasp left your lips when you realized it wasn’t a stranger but rather your own roommate of a year. she had her eyes closed in pain while tears pricked the side of her eyes, getting ready to roll down her cheeks. blood ran from her nose, purple and blue splotches peppered her brow bone, jaw, and cheek, while a cut over her lip had a thick patch of partially dried blood. you looked at her carnelian red suit that was darkening over her stomach area. her hand pressed over it and you urgently moved, “oh my god- minji!” she weakly smiled through a wince of pain, “hey, y/n.” you looked down at her and brought your hands to your head, “holy shit i was right- oh god- ok um…shit you’re bleeding on my rug.” you bent down to help her up, taking most of her body weight onto yourself while she hobbled with you to the bathroom. minji winced once more and you onced her over, “you need to take that off so i can clean your stomach.” immediately minji refused, “no i’m fine it’s just a little cut. you can go to sleep y/n, it’s fine. this is nothing new.” your heart clenched at hearing her last words but you were adamant, “no i’m helping you. minji, you can’t even stand up straight. so take it off so i can help you.” she sighed in defeat knowing that there was no point in trying to refuse because you wouldn’t let up, and honestly she did need help this time. minji pressed a button on her suit causing it to quickly retract up her arms and legs, leaving her in what was now a form fitting tank top and biker shorts version of her suit. 

minji placed her hand on her side, applying pressure to the cut before you gently lifted her onto the countertop of the bathroom. she shifted uncomfortably for a minute while you grabbed a handful of bandaging pads, gauze, and medical bandage tape. when you came back you carefully lifted her top to expose the wound. a small whine of pain left minji’s lips as you peeled the material from her bloodied skin. once that part was done you rinsed it with water, minji gripping onto your shoulder so she didn’t interfere with your help. while you cleaned it, you stated, “if it was any deeper i would’ve had to take you to the ER.” she remained silent at the remark, instead focusing on the way your hands tenderly took care of her wounded body. the teenager hissed as you began to dress the wound with layers of gauze and bandaging tape, throwing her head back to prevent tears from falling. afterwards, you placed small bandaids over the small cuts on her brow bone, temple, and jaw. minji could feel your eyes skimming her arms and legs, looking at the varying scars decorated with new bruises that she’d gotten in the past year. however, she was surprised when you didn’t mention a single word about any of it. instead, you finished up and said, “just avoid getting those wet when you shower, drink water and eat, and let your body rest. alright?” the superhero nodded and you said, “okay, i’m done. good night, i’ll see you in the morning.” minji mumbled a shy, “thank you” under her breath to which you smiled and assured her, “it’s no big deal.” 

you turned around to leave and minji grabbed your hand, “i’m spiderman or girl or woman or whatever. but it’s me.” slowly you turned to face and looked into her eyes, “minji, i know.” she sighed and pulled you closer to her as she still sat on the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around your torso to keep you close, “no- i know that i just don’t want there to be any more secrets. i can’t keep lying to you.” she pulled your arms to rest on her shoulders as she held your waist and you prompted, “so what else should i know about my spiderwoman?” butterflies erupted in minji’s stomach and she cracked a smile through her split lip, wincing when it hurt slightly. she ran her knuckles along your side and she started, “i can shoot webs from my suit, i can crawl on walls, i’m pretty fast and i’m stronger than regular people, i heal faster so all of this will be fine tomorrow mostly, i have enhanced balance and reflexes, and i get this tingly feeling when i feel like there’s impending danger.” you looked at her asking for more and she continued, “i do really work for samsung though just not in the engineering program like you and haewon think. it’s this classified project so as much as i want to tell you more, i can’t because i don’t know much either right now."

you asked, "what about the day you came in late for the exam? why'd you smell like gas and ash, hanni has a tesla and that doesn't take gas. and what happened to you that day you were there in the alley? i saw you in the factory too." minji sighed and admitted, "i saved a man from a burning car on the side of the highway. they stabbed me in the factory which is why i screamed, and i had a feeling something was going wrong in the alley after i escaped the factory. but that’s all of my secrets i promise. no more secrets, okay?” 

brushed a stuck hair from minji’s forehead and nodded, “no more secrets, huh?” she hummed in agreement and you told her quietly, “i have one.” minji’s eyes found yours and you cupped her face with your hand, “i really like you, more than a friend.” minji broke out into a smile and responded, “i really like you too.” you asked almost as if you didn’t believe her, “yeah?” she nodded eagerly, “yeah.” minji leaned foreward and pressed her head against yours, you placed a gentle kiss on her forehead then you pulled away and looked at her, both of you sharing a similar glance, “don’t tell haewon.” the two of you bursted into laughter and minji leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

end.

#kpop fanfic #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop imagines #girl group fluff #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #girl group angst #girl group reactions #new jeans imagines #new jeans fanfic #new jeans scenarios #new jeans reactions #kim minji x reader #new jeans #spiderman au #superhero au

[notanettelmao]

The Food Blogger [Colin x reader]

This might have a part two if enough people like it

I actually talked about writing something with Colin about a month ago, but then I went out with some friends and had a family emergency and I somehow forgot about it?? So this is not really what I planned at first, lol

tagging some of the people that sounded really interested in my idea when I posted about it: @vic-top @iputthefaninfanfics @idylio24 (sorry if it isn't what you were expecting hehe)

Fandoms: Not Okay Movie Warnings: weed, me being bad at writing stuff that sounds like Colin, Danni is being Danni... Pairings: future Colin x reader Words: 1,7k

“Okay Y/N, take a picture, post it on Instagram, post the blog post with the recipe and link it to your stories. You’ve done this multiple times, nothing’s scary about it..” The girl mumbled as she moved around her table, trying to get the best angle to take a picture of her creation. The table had a thin white tablecloth thrown over it to cover the multiple paint stains from when the girl tried to be creative. On the tablecloth, in the middle of the table, sat a black plate with pancakes on top of it. The girl managed to sprinkle more powdered sugar on the pancakes as she found the right angle. At first glance, there was nothing special about the pancakes, maybe the three raspberries on top which ended up there after she thought the brown color of the pancakes was a little boring. But if someone would eat the food, they would find out it actually had a secret ingredient. Weed. 

How did the weed end up in the pancakes of a girl who has never even touched a joint? Funny story actually, it started with her getting a new job as a food blogger. On the same day, she bumped into a particular bleached guy, who smelled like weed. Hell, you could smell him from a few meters away, that’s how bad the weed smell was. Noone at work seemed to notice it, or maybe they were just used to it at this point. There wasn’t actually anything that interesting about him, except the good looks, pretty eyes, absolutely tasty-looking lips and- the girl’s phone buzzed next to her. She groaned and turned around to pick it up from the counter to look at who texted her. 

‘U free?’ 

Was what she saw under Danni’s name on her screen. What the hell did Danni want? She hasn’t talked to her since she found out she also had the hots for Colin. They had a fight about who could possibly actually end up dating him. Let’s say Danni didn’t like the idea of him not liking either of them. 

Y/N rolled her eyes as she clicked on the call button and put the phone near her ear, using her other hand to look at the pictures she took with her camera.

“Y/N? Why are you calling me, couldn’t you just text back like a normal person?” Danni’s voice was heard from the phone speaker not even after the first beep. 

“Kinda trying to work here, figured out calling would be quicker,” Y/N mumbled into the phone, still not knowing what to think about the other girl calling her. 

“Anyway, what do you want?” She asked right after and put her camera down on the table next to the plate, walking to her couch so she could sit down. 

“I was wondering if you would want to go out to get some coffee… Talk about boys… You know, all the stuff. You didn’t respond to any of my emails so-”

“Fine, I’ll be down in five.” Y/N hung up before Danni could continue. She was already regretting her decision. But she also didn’t want to let go of one of her only work friends. A stupid fight over a boy should not end a friendship, right? 

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Danni was late. Y/N stood outside in her black sweatpants and a black baggy t-shirt with some random prints all over it. She was regretting putting on her new Vans, as she could already feel the skin on her heels protesting. She was scrolling through her Instagram, liking Colin’s new posts when a pair of white shoes appeared on the ground in front of her. She slowly looked up, noticing the brown pants and lighter-brown hoodie. Finally, she saw Danni’s face framed by two blonde strands of hair on each side, tucked behind her ears. 

“Hiii!” Danni cheered, pulling Y/N into a hug almost making her drop her phone. 

“Uh, hi,” Y/N laughed awkwardly. Danni didn’t seem to notice.

“How have you been? I saw you gained some followers after those yummy-looking weed recipes,” Danni’s eyes sparkled when she mentioned the followers. Y/N slowly blinked, realizing the other girl just wanted to boost her follower count. 

“Oh, I’ve been great, yeah…” Y/N put away her phone as they started walking down the street. Danni started talking about her wanting to get into writing and Y/N was just nodding her head, not really listening. She was mostly looking around wondering where they were going to end up. 

“No way! Je obsessed!” Danni said suddenly, making Y/N stop and look at what she was looking at. They stood in front of a tiny coffee shop called Matcha Baby. A waitress put out a sign and walked back inside.

“Influencers eat free?” Y/N read aloud. She bit her lip, trying not to laugh when she noticed Danni checking her follower count. 

“Not today,” Danni made a face and turned to continue walking when she stopped and just stared. Y/N almost bumped into her as she didn’t notice her just standing there again. 

“What the hell Da-” Y/N started to say. Then she noticed what the other girl was staring at. 

“-nni. Oh, you’ve got to be shittin’ me.” She mumbled under her breath. A few meters away from them there was a black car. They both stared as Colin stepped out of it, smoke surrounding him as he breathed it out, and started walking their way. Y/N was already moving to the side so he could walk by. Danni had other ideas. 

“Colin!” Danni exclaimed loudly, making Y/N wince. Colin stopped right in front of them.

“Oh shit. Waddup honey? Yea I can’t take a pic right now. But-” Colin said, making Y/N snort. She quickly covered her mouth but Colin already turned his attention to her. 

“Oh, I’ve seen you before?” He asked, looking Y/N up and down. She made a surprised noise, trying to ignore Danni who was plotting her murder by the looks she was giving her. 

“Oh, I- Ehm I work in the same building? Make food posts on insta and.. stuff..” Y/N cringed as her voice cracked. 

“Shiit right! You make those lit weed posts!” He looked down at his phone, quickly typing something on the screen, and then turned it to face her.

“Haven’t actually seen yo acc on my insta, just saw an article. Give me your user?” He asked. Y/N’s eyes widened and she took his phone into her shaking hands, quickly typing her Instagram username into the search bar. She then returned his phone with a shy smile on her face. 

“Sick,” he tapped on the screen, few seconds later she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from screaming. Was this really happening?

“I work in that building too!” Danni said loudly so the two of them heard her. They both looked at each other and then turned their heads to look at Danni.

“Yeah. Anyway. I’m supposed to be going to-” Colin looked at his screen and then up at the coffee shop, “- there. Matcha Babyy. Plus my plug lives here so two birds one stone.” He waved his hand towards the building. 

“Yeah, I smoke marijuana, like, all the time!” Danni said, smiling. 

“Oh lord,” Y/N mumbled under her breath, deciding to pull out her phone and pretend she is doing something.

“Ever seen one of these?” Colin asked, lighting the weird-looking joint. Y/N quickly turned on her camera and pointed it at Danni when she saw her reaching for the joint. Danni inhaled the smoke and started coughing before she gave the joint back to Colin. Y/N was silently laughing as she sent the video to one of her friends back home. She missed Colin talking to a random fan on the other side of the street because of the spam of laughing emojis she got as a response. 

“So cool that you have a fan!” Danni said in between coughs. Colin shot a quick look at Y/N and then back to Danni.

“Oh yeah, I got a- I got a bunch. That’s just one.” He chuckled.

“So like, what are you? Like, at Depravity? I see she-” he waved his hand towards Y/N, “ is a food blogger. What are you?”

“I’m a- I’m a writer,” Danni said. Y/N rolled her eyes. Writer, sure. Colin completely zoned out taking selfies with his joint as she talked more.

“I wanna develop my work by traveling and stuff. And maybe like, going on one of those writer retreats-” That got Colin’s attention. 

“Oh, you’re going on a retreat?” He zoned out again as he got a notification. Y/N just stood there, staring at the two of them as if she was watching a movie. She only needed popcorn. 

“I’m going to Paris for it,” Danni said out of nowhere and Y/N choked on air, almost falling over. Colin looked up from his phone to Danni. 

“Shit. That’s dope. Hey, get pics,” he was ready to walk away when Danni stepped into his way, making Y/N start choking once again. 

“I’m gonna get lots of pics! Yeah. Throw them all up on the gram!” Danni made a random dance move and Y/N turned to look at the lady that was sitting on the ground next to them this whole time. They both had the same look on their faces, they were completely done with Danni.

“By the way, this was laced with, like, mad wax, so your tolerance must be OD as fuck. Damn, ma. Good luck in Paris, Jenny.” He turned to Y/N.

“Good to meet you both,” he said as he walked away.

“Danni,” Danni said, turning around to look at him walking away.

“What’s up?” He stopped and looked at her.

“My name is Danni.” 

“No, it’s Colin.” He said. Y/N busted out laughing. 

“I’ll see you at work,” Colin said, looking at Y/N. Then he turned to look at Danni.

“Or I guess I won’t.” He then walked away. Danni started laughing loudly, making both the homeless lady and Y/N look at her like at a crazy person.

“Fuck me,” Danni said as she finished laughing. 

“Fuck you indeed,” Y/N mumbled under her breath, making the homeless lady snort. 

#colin x reader #not okay movie #colin not okay #danni sanders #reader #fanfic #basically used the convo in the movie #i literally had no idea how to write the stuff he is saying so i thought of random stuff that i hate #dylan o'brien x reader

[onyxheartbeat]

I don’t know what to make of the last few days. My love had a concerned family member who lives out of state finally show concern for him (he’s recently had the flu and Covid) and began calling in another family friend to do wellness checks on him. He went through about a week of really poor health, unable to talk without constantly coughing. On top of his heart failure, it’s been quite scary, but I’ve been the only one to see him regularly. Now, there’s this family friend calling and telling him he needs to go to the hospital when she gets back from her trip. He’s been very reluctant to do this. That’s a long story, but basically he just wants to pass away at home or just never go to the hospital again because the previous stint was painful and exhausting (understandable).

The medical aspect of this has been scary for me as he’s told me he doesn’t want an ambulance called if he goes into cardiac arrest at the house. He’s told me he just want to go and for me to accept it. Anyway, since our relationship is private, I can’t be there anymore due to the fact that a couple of his friends are doing spontaneous wellness checks. It’s been days since I had quality time with him, and the last night that I tried to stay for just a few hours, it felt like he was pulling away and my heart broke. He didn’t even look at me in the eyes. He’s claimed he’s embarrassed because his eyes are swollen and he doesn’t like how he looks but I’m sensing just a general closed offness the last few days and I have no idea why.

I feel anxiety and can’t stop crying about it. It feels like he’s distancing himself. He hasn’t been saying he loves me the last two days, even when I text it to him at night, he’ll just say “goodnight” or “sleep well” instead of “I love you too.” It’s a complete 180 from the sweetness and romance and passion I’ve been experiencing with him the last four months. A part of me is very upset and I feel like that’s manipulative behavior on his part. He’s done it a few times before so I don’t know if this is just how he copes with stress. But he’s been in much better health recently (gotten over Covid and stopped drinking heavily), so he’s continued packing and getting ready for his drive across country. I just feel like I’ve been pushed away. It’s hard to explain because only I know how affectionate and loving he’s been with me for the most part of the past four months. But it feels different all of a sudden.

Since he’s gotten news that this friend will be doing health checks, he’s been calling me multiple times a day and talking for hours with me, however that stopped a few days ago. And today, he didn’t reach out at all, and like I stated, the last time I was actually at his house, which was last night for a few hrs, he didn’t even really talk to me or even look at me. I curled up next to him on the couch and we held each other, but I kept kissing him on the cheek and he just didn’t respond. He doesn’t kiss me anymore. I know he’s really tired but that broke my heart. I don’t know how to feel about all of this. I’m angry because I feel he should be more consistent and loving with me because it seems he’s finally getting ready to move soon, but I’m also understanding because he’s still a victim of heart disease and having to give up his childhood home soon and that’s such an emotional thing to go through that I shouldn’t say how he should be acting every day.

I’m just so sad right now. This relationship of ours was always doomed to so much heartache and the nature of it being private means we can’t see each other right now due to the spontaneous wellness checks. That’s another reason I’m upset. I’ve carried him through this alone. Not one other person helped, when his mom passed, when his drinking was heavy, when he cracked his rib, I was the person there. Nobody saw how incredibly difficult that was. Now that one person in his family heard him coughing on the phone, they’re all of a sudden concerned enough to send people to check on him. It’s ridiculous. He didn’t listen to me when I told him he should stop smoking, stop drinking, see a doctor, or go to the hospital when he’s had chest pains, but now he’s maybe going to let a family friend take him to see a physician when she gets back from her trip—she’s a lovely elderly lady and has known him since his childhood so he respects her like that which is understandable, but I’m just so frustrated. Most of this relationship has been beautiful, but the ugly sides of it are truly palpable now. My biggest fear is that he just doesn’t want me around anymore, he’s falling out of love with me, or he’s just too disrespectful to see how his inconsistent behavior feels manipulative sometimes. He’s had nights where he was desperately asking for me, like literally just going through awful stuff and crying out desperately for me, and I always came no matter what. Now it feels like I’m just not needed anymore and that it doesn’t matter if I desperately need him. At the end of the day, I don’t feel it’s a big enough deal to bring up. I’m more just trying to keep a cool head right now because he seems to be in stage four of his heart failure and there have been many nights when I’ve felt it’s possible that he was going to pass away. I just want to hold onto the feeling of love that we have shared.

Anyway, thank you all for reading. I really appreciate being able to vent on here and for you all to go through this with me because I really suck ass when it comes to love and heartbreak.

[psychedelicpharmaceutical]

I’m losing my best friend.

She’s in a relationship now, and I’m happy for for her, I really am. But it’s changed so much between us. She talks to me less. When we talk it’s almost always about her girlfriend. She’s meaner to me.

I’m not her best friend anymore, her girlfriend is. Just a few weeks ago we planned a small trip to our old college and she was so rude that I had to privately cry. She gave both her sister and I the silent treatment because we didn’t get ready fast enough in the morning. It was also high tide at the beach which meant we couldn’t swim. Eventually she snapped and started grilling us. It sucked, I hadn’t seen her in months, and when I finally did it was horrible. She hasn’t treated me like that before.

We barely spoke on the trip, I thank god her sister was there otherwise I would have had no one to talk to. After the trip she messaged me and said “the whole vacation made me realize how into my girlfriend I am”. When I asked her why, she didn’t respond.

I’ve texted her back over the past week and a half, but she hasn’t gotten back to me. But she’s been posting selfies and videos of herself on Snapchat. I know it’s not a big deal but it stings. I’m on the back-burner, but she’s still my number one.

I remember our freshman year together, when she was in another relationship. She told me she lost a lot of friends when she entered the relationship, now I’m starting to understand why.

I know she’ll keep me around, she’s not kicking me out of her life. But our interactions make me sad now. I feel like supporting cast.

Maybe this is just a weird rough patch and it’ll get better. Maybe this is the beginning of the end. I’m just really sad. I miss her a lot.

#we went from sleeping in the same bed #crying about how much we loved eachother #promising one another that we’d get married #to barely speaking #I feel like I just got replaced in a way #I’ve never desired her sexually #the thought of that freaks me out #this is her first gay relationship and it’s a pretty big deal #and im really amazed and impressed by her authenticity to herself and devotion to love/live honestly #but god damn I feel like she essentially demoted me to make room for the love she has for her partner #I’m just confused and sad #why do things have to change between us? #I guess we can’t do the things we used to do because she’s in a relationship and that might make her partner uncomfortable #but what does that say about our relationship then?

[seijorhi]

Inexorable ♕

My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy​ and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh

Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?

He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.

Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.

Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.

Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.

You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut. 

And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.

Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl. 

No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.

—

The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day. 

Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha

Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.

Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.

Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.

Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.

They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.

You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.

—

It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?

You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.

Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.

The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.

“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.” 

But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.

“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way. 

You couldn’t care less.

Kazuma was in your apartment.

Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key. 

And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.

It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.

Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number. 

Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too… 

With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through. 

A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–

Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.

—

You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.

So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.

There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.

And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.

Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.

Silence greets you. 

You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–

Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.

This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.

“I-I need a gun.”

To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”

They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze. 

Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.

You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that. 

“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”

“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”

Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.

Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”

Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question. 

The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”

Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.

You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it. 

“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”

Wordlessly, you comply.

“Look at me.”

Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin. 

He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”

“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.

Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?

“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding. 

“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.

Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.

And the other part of you revels in it.

“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.

He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop. 

He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty. 

“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”

Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is. 

Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath. 

In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.

His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning. 

You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.

The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan. 

At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.

You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out. 

Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch. 

Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.

You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.

And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to. 

“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.

Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.

You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference? 

Do you actually want to?

“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream. 

He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.

And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.

You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.

The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.

“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–

Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts. 

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.

Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection. 

And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed. 

Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers. 

“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.

He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.

“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.

And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him. 

Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.

And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere iwaizumi #yandere iwaizumi x reader #yandere iwaizumi hajime #yandere iwaizumi hajime x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: stalking #i've said it like 48 times today #but ily fairy #you deserve the world #if you haven't gone to wish her a happy bday #GO NOW

[itsamejin]

easy || jungkook angst/fluff

Summary: Date you, win a bet, get his rent paid off. Sounds promising enough, right? Jungkook should’ve known that his ambitions would end in disaster, but even if he did, that still wouldn’t have stopped him from pursuing you.

Warning: cursing, crude humor, fuckboy talk

Genre: college!au, fuckboy!au, bet!trope, angst, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Premise: In which Jungkook accepts a bet from Taehyung to date the first girl that walks into the lecture hall and realizes that he bit off more than he could chew when starts to catch feelings. Now, he has to suffer the consequences of being an idiot.

Commission Request: @altus-gens​

Word Count: 9,203 words

—

It's not like Jungkook planned to be one of the most sought after person in Yonsei University, but it somehow turned out to be that way. Truthfully, he basks in it, loves that so many people idolize him for doing the bare minimum. He was handsome after all and had a level of charm that surpassed the need to have a good personality. 

He got into such a prestigious school through an athletic scholarship for Taekwondo, managed to convince his professors to pass him when he put in minimal effort, and there was no shortage of girls to call when he was feeling lonely for a night. He was the stereotypical 'it' boy on campus and maybe if he was a little bit smarter, he'd have a better choice of friends than the six idiots he always hangs around with.

"How about this," Taehyung starts, gum in his mouth, "the first girl who walks in, you have to successfully get in her pants."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. They were in a damn lecture hall and yet Taehyung had no shame bringing up sex. Typical.

“This again, bro?” Hoseok sighed. “Aren’t you sick of bribing us to do weird shit for you?”

Taehyung smirked.

“Not at all, actually.”

"For how much?" Namjoon cut in, probably curious for the price point Taehyung would arrange this time. He was fired from his job just a week ago and could really use the money. "I'll do it if it’s enough to pay for my rent this month."

Taehyung scoffs, although knowing full well he could pay for all of the boys’ tuitions combined if he wanted to. He was the resident rich bachelor on campus after all.

"I'll pay it for a full year and your utility bills too if you're really down," Taehyung flaunts. "You just gotta have proof you actually managed to do it."

"Dude that's gross," Seokjin chimes in, "No one wants to send you proof of us doing it with a random girl."

Taehyung shakes his head.

"No, no, no," he says, clicking his tongue. "I phrased it incorrectly. I’m not a fucking pervert."

“You got us fooled,” Jimin mutters. 

Taehyung leans in closer to the six boys and even Jungkook finds himself getting intrigued. Admittedly, he was a little curious considering he hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. He could really use having some extra cash for food without worrying about rent.

"You have to date the girl for like three months," Taehyung says seriously, "and I'll consider that as enough proof that you managed to actually do it since I know you guys are too horny to wait any longer than that to fuck."

They all look at Taehyung in disgust, Jimin even opting to hit him in the back of the head for being so vulgar. To be fair, they were all thinking of accepting Taehyung's bet regardless. It's not like they were new to leading girls on anyway.

"You gotta pay me more than that to fuck just any girl," Yoongi says, yawning in the process. He seemed the least likely to take up Taehyung's offer, but he was still game depending on the person.

"Then how would you feel," Taehyung starts, "if I told you guys that I could get you priority registration for next quarter."

The boys, even the ones who weren't interested, were now listening to Taehyung's every word.

"You mean," Hoseok gulps, "I could finally get that fucking Organic Chemistry class I need to get out of this hell hole?!"

Taehyung shrugs, an ominous smile on his face.

"Just the perk of having parents who have connections," Taehyung replies. “I’ll only accept one of you guys to do it though. I don’t wanna have you all fucking the same girl- that’d be weird.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what’s weird about this,” he grumbles.

“So are you guys in or not?” Taehyung asks, his patience growing thin.

He lays back on his chair, a smoldering look on his face when they all nod. They were desperate for money after all.

"The next girl that walks in will be the subject of this bet and whoever calls dibs on her first will be the one to woo her,” he says with a stretch of his arms. “Good luck boys.”

They all turned to look at the door and Jungkook watches silently as guy after guy walks into the lecture hall. No girl yet. 

Jungkook was hoping, from the bottom of his heart, that no familiar faces would walk in. If he had to deal with a past fling, he’d have to back out immediately. He never dealt with exes very well.

The guys are at the edge of their seats, praying for a cute girl to walk through that didn’t already know about their horrible reputation. They were looking for an easy target, someone that could fall for their charms almost immediately.

And then, you walk in. You were clad in sweats with earphones on, rushing toward the front row seats of the lecture hall. You were chatting with your friends, yawning several times throughout your conversation with them. Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk. There was nothing special about you to point out, in fact, you were just like everyone else. Strangely enough, he found that the most intriguing part about you.

"Nope, nope, nope," Jimin shakes his head repeatedly. "Can't, won't, never will. Sorry, Tae."

They all stare at him in confusion.

"What the fuck, what's wrong with her?" Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Jimin faces away from you, not wanting to look at you any longer.

"No, nothing," there seems to be a blush forming on his face. He was hiding something.

“Bullshit,” Taehyung furrows his brows. “Bro, if she’s crazy and one of us gets our dick bitten off, we’re all blaming you, so spit it out.”

Jimin just sighs.

"She's been giving me Professor Kwon’s notes for the past few weeks,” he starts, much to the confusion of his friends. “Her name is [Y/N]. It'll be really mean if I go after her, especially since she and I are kind of friends. Plus, I really need to pass this class. I failed last quarter..."

The boys groan. Jimin was no fun.

"She's not my type so I don't think I could really get into it either," Seokjin states, no longer interested in the prize after Jimin’s confession. He’s been banking off of your notes from him too. 

"Aren’t we all old enough to know not to mess with people’s feelings?" Hoseok sighs.

They roll their eyes at Hoseok’s statement. Who was he trying to fool with the nice guy act? He probably fooled around with girls just as much as the other guys did.

"Yeah, I’m backing out," Yoongi agrees, "and she hates me so there's that."

They all look at him questioningly and he puts his hands up in the air from their gazes.

"What? I just realized who she’s talking to down there.”

He pointed at a girl discreetly, but no one seemed to recognize her.

“Her friend and I dated,” Yoongi continues, “and I broke up with her over text and blocked her without letting her respond. That whole friend group is pretty much pissed at me. I'd rather not have to deal with them again."

The guys look disapprovingly at him. Breaking up over text was harsh, but probably not the worst thing Yoongi has done to his exes.

"You're actually a piece of shit," Namjoon sighs. "I really do need my rent paid though..."

Jungkook nods in agreement. It's been almost impossible to balance Taekwondo practices, college papers, and working a part-time job all at once. If he could somehow find a way to quit his job for a while and get priority registration for classes, then he doesn't mind getting his hands a little dirty in the process. Plus, you were cute enough and he's sure you weren't too difficult to befriend as long as he doesn't mention Yoongi in any conversations.

"I'm in," Jungkook chides, finally saying something after such a long period of silence.

They all look at him with disbelief in their eyes. Jungkook was never the one to partake in Taehyung's bets. In fact, he was the one usually ridiculing them for participating. He must have been really desperate if he was willing to do it.

"I mean, it's all yours if you want," Namjoon replies, "I don't wanna turn it into a competition.”

“Don’t worry dude,” Jungkook fist bumps Namjoon, “I’ll quit my job and refer you for it.”

They nod at each other as if they were on the same wavelength. 

“I knew I could rely on you,” Namjoon says, faking tears from his eyes. The boys groan in response.

“Alright,” Taehyung claps his hands. “In exchange for providing me some mindless entertainment and going out with [Y/N], you will get your rent paid for the rest of the year and get early registration for next quarter. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I don’t know about this, guys...”

Jungkook doesn’t hear him and instead takes one last look at you. You catch him in the corner of your eye and you can’t help but feel flustered at his serious expression. 

“Should be easy enough,” he mutters to himself and turns his gaze back onto his friend.

“So we have a deal?” Taehyung asks.

He smirks, shaking the outreached hand Taehyung held out for him. He steals another glance at you and he finds you staring right back. He gives you a wink.

“Deal.”

—

Jungkook slid into the seat next to yours in the campus canteen, his eyes filled with determination. His posture was laid-back, but it was a little too obvious that he was trying to act like he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he greets you in a breathy tone- girls loved it when he spoke with his breathy tone.

“Hi?”

You’d been sensing that someone was staring at you during the lecture, but you thought that was just the paranoia that came from being near such an intimidating group of guys. Turns out, you should always trust your instincts.

Jungkook had a boyish grin on his face that made you want to smile back but also stare at him in disgust.

“I heard you help Jimin with Professor Kwon’s notes,” he whispers mischievously. “I’m struggling myself, actually...”

Not really, but you know. This was the easiest tactic to approach you- tackle your similarities. You nod understandingly at his words, not quite getting that he was flirting with you.

“Yeah I can send you the Google Drive folder,” you comply, taking your phone out. “But you can’t let Professor Kwon know or else he’ll flip out. He doesn’t want people to have the notes for some odd reason...”

You trail off but Jungkook just scoffs. You seemed clueless.

“That’s not what I necessarily meant,” he says, a little shy this time. “I need a tutor.”

You furrow your brows at him.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to pay me for that,” you say seriously. The last time you offered to tutor someone for free, they ended up blaming you for their failing grade and screaming about it all over social media. You needed money to compensate for that emotional trauma. “Microeconomics is hard to teach.”

“Well thankfully I’m a good student,” Jungkook teases. You stare at him with a deadpan face.

“You wouldn’t need my help if you were a good student,” you say blankly, standing up from your seat. “My hourly rate is 20,000 Won. Take it or leave it.”

Jungkook’s eye twitched. He had to spend his money to get Taehyung’s money? Well, the payout would be worth it in the end anyway. He reaches out a hand to you.

“If you’d have me,” he says cheekily, looking up at you. You take his hand in yours and maybe for a second you felt your heart skip a beat, but that was soon over when you let go of him.

“You have sweaty hands,” you say straightforwardly. You wipe your hand on your shirt and he coughs awkwardly at how unresponsive you truly were. Didn’t Jimin say you were a nice person? 

You take your barely-touched lunch tray and walk away from his pensive figure.

“Wait, can I get your number?” he yells. You don’t look back.

“Alright, whatever,” he mumbles to himself. “I’ll just ask Jimin, I guess.”

Without even a second glance, you disappear from his sight. He sits back on his chair, heaving out a deep sigh. Sure, this wasn’t the first girl that didn’t care much for his advances, but you didn’t even crack a smile or anything. This is going to be harder than he thought...

—

“She hates me,” Jungkook whines to Seokjin as they walked down the university halls to their next shared class. “Yesterday, I went up to her to get her number and I left with a fucking debt. Does that make any sense?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have taken on the bet,” Seokjin yawned. “Namjoon would have wooed her with his poetry by now or some shit.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s interested in a dude who can’t even put on a hat without causing an earthquake.”

Seokjin smacked him on the back.

“At least he’d have the guts to say no to having a fucking tutor,” Seokjin replies. “You dug your own grave, man. Now roll around in it.”

“Do you want me to succeed or not?” 

“I want you to not be a fucking dumbass, Jungkook,” Seokjin sighs. “Do you really wanna make your reputation worse than it already is?”

Just as Jungkook was about to reply, he catches a glimpse of you walking farther ahead in the university courtyard. You were a bit far but he’s sure he could make it if he hurries. He smacks the binder he held in his right hand onto Seokjin’s chest.

“Yo, can you cover for me,” he asks hastily and Seokjin stares at him with a concerned gaze. He watches as Jungkook takes off his backpack and leaves it on the ground. Jungkook looked about ready to break out in a sprint.

“What the fuck, why?” Seokjin questions.

“Just tell the TA I’m out for a bit,” he says in response, already running ahead to catch up to you. “I’m winning this fucking bet or I’ll die trying.”

Jin stands still, mouth agape. Jungkook really left him with his backpack and binder just to talk to you. He shakes his head. ‘I need to make new friends,’ he thought to himself, picking up the discarded backpack and walking in the direction of the class Jungkook was planning to be late to.

You were walking with your earphones on, not noticing someone sprinting at you in record speed. You only turn your music off when Jungkook stops in front of you, his hands on his knees. He was panting heavily.

“Hey,” he says through deep breaths. You nod at him awkwardly.

“Why are you running?”

“I wanted to... catch up to you... and I thought... you were closer... but the run here... took... fucking... forever,” he says breathlessly. “Water. I need water.”

You take out a bottle from your tote bag hastily, handing it to him. He took it into his hands, grazing your fingers a bit. As he was about to start chugging it, you halted him.

“Waterfall,” you say curtly- you were still planning to drink out of it later after all. 

He nods in response, a drop of sweat cascading the side of his neck. After he was done, there was practically no water left anyway. ‘I’m gonna have to refill it myself,’ you thought begrudgingly. You stuff it back into your bag and wait until his breaths become more even.

“A bit out of shape, huh?”

He scoffs and gives you a glare, clearly offended.

“I actually have a Taekwondo scholarship, you know that? I just wasn’t warmed up and I’m naturally sweaty so it’s not like-”

You laugh a little.

“I’m joking,” you say, a smile adorning your face. He feels his face turn red and he can’t help but purse his lips out of embarrassment. Jeon Jungkook couldn’t take a fucking joke.

“O-oh,” he says shyly, avoiding your gaze. Why was he acting more like an idiot than usual? You hear the chiming bells of the university tower and stare at your phone to check the time.

“Don’t you have a class?” you ask him. His eyes widen and soon he was dashing off again. He turns around mid-run, jogging backward to face you.

“My number is 06-1313-9197,” he yells, loud enough for the other late students in the courtyard to hear. Most of them roll their eyes, knowing that Jungkook was flirting with another girl yet again. You’re embarrassed by the amount of attention he’s getting, but punch his number on your phone anyway.

“Text me,” he shouts. “I’ll always respond to you.”

Now it was your turn to be flustered.

—

"That’s wrong,” you say, reaching over to Jungkook’s notebook and marking a large ‘X’ on his paper. “You’re not supposed to apply that function for this problem...”

Jungkook stared at you with a tired face. He didn’t think he was too bad at the mathematical aspect of Microeconomics, but it seemed like it was your life’s mission to make him look like an idiot. Of course, you caught every mistake that he made- even the ones he made on purpose just to see if you were really paying attention to his work and not bamboozling him.

“My bad,” he mutters, copying down the same problem on a different sheet of paper. He didn’t even get a chance to make a move on you today- not like he could make any big developments in the campus library anyway.

“Is it like this?” he asks, tilting his notebook to face you. You take a hard look at it and nod.

“Yeah, just make sure you know the difference between these two formulas, or else you’ll mess up on the midterm,” you say thoughtfully.

This was your fourth or fifth tutoring session by now? Truth be told he wasn’t really counting. Each moment he spent with you kind of blended together and he didn’t quite know if that was a bad thing or not.

“You know you’re not even struggling,” you say, your nose buried deep in your textbook. “It’s not like you’re completely clueless like Jimin. It seems like you’re wasting money on stuff you already know.”

Jungkook laughs heartily, getting shushed by the people around him. He really was stupid, wasn’t he?

“Yeah, well, it was just an excuse to hang out with the pretty girl in class, you know?” he says as nonchalantly as he could. You stare at him for a second and he swears he feels his body freeze over. If looks could kill...

You just shook your head with a click of your tongue and got back to reading.

“The pretty girl in class is most definitely not me,” you grumble. “If you wanted, I could’ve given you Soobin’s number without all the added hassle of you trying to come talk to me-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jungkook stops you from saying anything else. He looked worriedly at your face. “I don’t even know who the hell Soobin is, why would I want her number?”

You look at him and finally, you chuckle. ‘She really does have a nice smile,’ Jungkook thought to himself. It would be nice if he could make you laugh more often and not just on rare occasions like this.

“You’re saying you don’t know Yoongi’s ex?” you tease slightly. You were finally letting your guard down with him and Jungkook smirked. One wall down, another million more to go.

“Bold of you to assume that I know any of Yoongi’s exes,” he says and you scoff. “He’s an asshole when it comes to dating.”

You roll your eyes.

“Isn’t that your whole friend group?”

He pouts. You knew of his reputation after all. Jungkook thought he could get away playing a nice boy act, but it didn't seem possible considering your knowledge of him. A little white lie couldn’t hurt in the end.

“Not me,” he replies. “I choose my relationships pretty carefully.”

You take a glance at him before jotting down a few more words in your notebook.

“Well,” you start off, a little shy to admit what you were about to say, “I guess we both have that in common.”

He tilts his head rather cutely out of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

You cough awkwardly, adjusting yourself on one of the library’s notoriously squeaky seats.

“I’ve never really had a boyfriend before,” you say quietly. His eyes bulge out from their sockets.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“Like, you’ve never been on a date or what?”

“I have,” you say hesitantly. “I’ve been on a few but they just never led into anything serious. I was pretty focused on studying in high school so there weren’t really any opportunities to get involved with someone. Plus, the guys who pursued me weren’t very... attractive.”

Jungkook laughs loudly again, much to the dismay of the other students in the library. He liked that you didn’t beat around the bush- it was easier to talk to you that way.

“And me?” he asks teasingly, laying his head on his arm that was atop the desk. He looks up at you with that boyish grin of his that gave you small butterflies in your stomach. You stare back at him, but only for a second. You ignore his watchful gaze and continue to flip through your textbook, trying to find the passage you last read. He keeps his eyes locked on you and you just couldn’t resist.

“What about you?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

“Am I attractive?” he replies as bluntly as he could. You stop your movements and he chuckles.

“You’re... cute,” you settle on that word. Cute. It was safe enough to not be misinterpreted too much. He sits up straight with a satisfied smirk. He takes his pen and draws a heart on the side of your notebook. He winks at you when you stare back at him, puzzled by his actions.

“You are too.”

—

“Tell me you’re lying,” Soobin whines disappointingly, shaking your shoulders. You were trying to eat lunch undisturbed in one of the campus cafes but your two friends seem hell-bent on making you suffer. “There’s no way you’re friends with Jungkook.”

You sigh, attempting to rid yourself of Soobin’s grasp but to no avail.

“He’s an asshole, [Y/N],” Gaeun sighs disappointingly. “I thought you were a feminist, why the fuck do you even tolerate him?”

You glare at her for a split second before going back to prying Soobin off you.

“Jungkook has no respect for women or himself. It shows in how many shitty friends he has,” Soobin chants, still clearly bitter that Yoongi dumped her.

You shake your head, rolling your shoulders back when she finally lets go of you.

“Jungkook’s not even as bad as you guys describe him,” you reply. “He’s actually been really sweet.”

The girls take a glance at each other and burst in a fit of laughter.

“You must be out of your damn mind,” Gaeun cries. You cower slightly at their words. It’s not like you said anything that controversial, did you?

Soobin slaps Gaeun on the shoulder when she realizes how your face had soured. It wasn’t right to judge you for your choice of friends so harshly, no matter how horrid said person was.

“As long as it doesn’t go past friends,” she says soothingly, but that only made you feel worse.

“Why?” you ask a little hesitantly. “Does Jungkook sleep around?”

Gaeun nods, a worrying glimpse in her eyes.

“He's not exactly the type to kiss and stay...”

You nod understandingly. You weren’t too clueless to believe Jungkook when he said he was “careful” on who he dated. As long as you knew the boundaries that came with being his tutor, everything should be fine... right?

“Don’t worry guys,” you say with determination. “I’m not the type to get played-”

“Of course you are!” Gaeun sighed. “Guys gravitate towards girls like you who lack experience. Jungkook’s a fucking weirdo, of course, he’s gonna try and-”

“[Y/N]!” a shout from across the cafe screams. That distracted you from the various insults Gaeun was spewing from her mouth. You get that she was being critical of Jungkook, but did she have to speak ill of you too?

You look around and catch Jungkook waving frantically at you. He stops at your table and takes a mere glance at your friends before setting his focus on you. 

“Do you have time to help me out today? One of the papers for my writing class-”

“You tutor him in writing now, too?!” Soobin exclaimed, mouth agape. “[Y/N], what the fuck.”

You try to ignore your friend’s overreaction, a little disheartened when Jungkook looked hurt at their words. He had started to shy away from them as if he didn’t feel welcomed.

“Nevermind, I’ll just ask you later-”

“Actually,” you say standing up. “I’m free now.”

The two girls look back and forth between you and Jungkook, noticing the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. They did not like the thought of you two together at all.

“But [Y/N]-” 

You ignored their words and start to walk away, hoping Jungkook would come catch up to you. You didn’t quite know why their insistence on him being a bad person had made your blood boil. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of his flirtatious tendencies, but hearing from your friends that you shouldn’t pursue a guy that you liked-

You stopped in your tracks and feel heat climb up your face. Like.

No way you admitted that just now. There’s no possible way you actually like-

“Hey, wait up,” Jungkook pants, his hand touching your shoulder. “Why do you walk so fast for-”

He sees your shocked face and turns you towards him, his hands on your shoulder similar to how Soobin had shaken you just earlier. Except this time, it felt comforting. It made your whole body feel warm as if you were coated with a weighted blanket. Was he always this gorgeous?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, inspecting your face closely. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“N-nothing,” you swipe his hands away and rush out the door of the cafe. He smirks at how flustered you look, maybe he did have an effect on you after all.

Jungkook takes a last glimpse at the two girls who sat in their seats, staring at him disapprovingly. He raised an eyebrow at them and shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans, following after you. ‘They’ll try to get in the way,’ Jungkook thought to himself, ‘but they’re already too late.’

The girls clenched their fist out of annoyance. He was definitely trying to get on their nerves.

“There’s something strange about what’s happening,” Gaeun mutters.

“They’re up to something,” Soobin agrees. “I don’t trust him at all.”

—

It’s been a week since you last spoke to your friends, not really wanting to read the messages they bombarded you with about how you should stay for away from Jungkook. It was hard to take any of their advice seriously when they were just badmouthing him without reason. They based all their opinions on him from rumors around the school and Soobin always felt the need to compare him to Yoongi even though they both had very different personalities. Well, at least to you they seemed very different.

Frankly, you were sick of their nagging and just turned off notifications from that group chat altogether. Instead of sitting next to them during Microeconomics, you opted to sit with Jungkook in the back of the lecture hall instead of at the front with them. Jungkook had abandoned his own rowdy friend group to sit with you and flashed them quick smirks and winks whenever they’d stare at him. 

Slowly, Jungkook had started to become a constant in your day to day life. You walked to class with him, ate with him, played video games with him. It was sort of strange how used to you were of his presence, like you had known him your whole life. Jungkook snaps you out of your thoughts when he starts humming a little tune.

He draws a heart in the corner of your notes- which you find he has a habit of doing whenever he wanted to say something stupid.

“I don’t get what he’s saying,” he pouts cutely. “It’s like he’s speaking a foreign language.”

You shake your head, not paying him any mind.

“Well maybe if you actually paid attention,” you mutter softly. He scoots closer to you and you feel yourself stiffen.

“But you’re tutoring me later on anyway,” he says teasingly. “I get more bang for my buck if I know less.”

“Bang for my buck,” you scoff. “Who even says that anymore?”

He points at himself nonchalantly and you can’t help but crack a smile as you continue to focus on the professor’s words. You don’t even cower under his gaze like you usually do when he stares at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“What do you want?” you ask, finally caving when Professor Kwon adjusted something in his PowerPoint slides. He smiles.

“I want to hold your hand,” Jungkook replies and you could feel your palms clam up. His flirtatious comments increased as time passed and you didn’t really quite know whether he was just teasing you or if he was genuinely interested in you. You weren’t very good at taking a hint.

“I’m writing right now...” you reply, slightly skipping a beat in your note-taking. He really was the ultimate distraction, wasn’t he?

Jungkook pouts sadly, but you can tell an idea pops up in his mind when his eyes start to glimmer. He sits his hand on your thigh and you jolt back from the touch of his hand on the material of your jeans. He pulls away slightly, scared that he had made you uncomfortable.

“I just want to put my arm around you,” he asks innocently. “Are you okay with that?”

You calm yourself down and nod. For goodness sake, you weren’t a child- why did a hand on your thigh make you so nervous for?!

“Yeah,” you say, a little more confident despite your nerves. “Go ahead.”

He smiles softly at you and connects his hand to your waist, pulling you a little closer to him. It was comforting, not at all meant to be more than just a public display of affection. He finds himself getting lost in the lecture along with you, his hand playing with a loose thread on your shirt through it all. He didn’t even look at his friends who were teasing him on the other side of the class or your own friends shooting daggers into his being.

At that moment, it was you, him, and Professor Kwon giving out a lecture that had half of the students already asleep. He smiled at how diligently you worked and how your breath would quicken when Professor Kwon switched the slides without a warning. It was the little idiosyncrasies like this that caught his attention, the kind of things that made him wonder where you’d been all his life.

The smile on Jungkook’s face disappeared when he came to that realization.

Fuck.

—

Jungkook rolls around the grass while you sit on the picnic blanket you two had set up. Midterms were over and grades would soon be announced. He wanted a much-needed distraction from the monotony of constant studying and you had suggested a small picnic in a nearby park. Of course, he agreed. 

“We’re free,” he groans. “Finally free.”

Jungkook stares hungrily at the assortment of food you had laid out for the two of you. He tries to reach a hand out to grab a bottle of lemonade but ultimately fails in the end. You giggle at his silliness, popping a grape in your mouth.

“You’re welcome by the way,” you say jokingly. “Don’t think you could’ve done it without me.”

He sits up to face you, bowing deeply as if you were a traditional empress.

“Thank you,” he says, imitating a Joseon accent. He was watching far too many historical dramas recently.

“You’re embarrassing me,” you say, attempting to straighten him out. “Sit up.”

He complies, only after a few pulls from you, with a toothy grin on his face.

“Seriously, I don’t think I could have gone through the first few weeks of Professor Kwon’s class without your notes,” he sighs, opening his mouth to signal that he wanted to be fed. You roll your eyes but placed a grape between his teeth anyway.

“You have hands, you should know how to use them,” you mumble shyly.

You move to take another grape for yourself, but he grabs your wrist before you could. He intertwines his fingers into yours.

“Why should I when my hands are holding yours~,” he says in a sing-song voice. It made you want to throw up at how cheesy he was, but you couldn’t help but laugh along as he cringed at his own words. When was it so normal for him to hold your hands like this?

“You can’t go one sentence without flirting, can you?” you sigh, feigning annoyance.

“Not when it comes to you,” he replies, but you could feel sincerity laced between his laughter. “I can’t resist flirting when it makes you all giggly like this.”

You purse your lips to prevent yourself from smiling too brightly. Jungkook and you were somewhat past the point of being just friends by now, but you were too much of a coward to label what you had with him. What if there was a chance that he was just leading you on?

Jungkook saw your furrowed brows. He rubbed circles on your hands with his thumbs to ease you.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks softly, about to let go.

“No-” you say a little too quickly, clasping him closer to you. Your faces were inches apart now, much nearer than they were before.

“D-don’t,” you attempt to say but you’re tongue tangled as you looked at his lips. He certainly does have nice lips...

“Don’t what?” he asks in a lowly voice. You start to look around you- anywhere that wasn’t him. The park was relatively empty but it still felt embarrassing to say anything too loud.

“D-don’t let me go,” you say, your eyes on the picnic blanket rather than on him. His gaze was too intense to look at. Jungkook feels his heart clench. You were cute, too cute. 

He shouldn’t be feeling this attached to you, but he couldn’t help it. Everything you did, every word that came out of your mouth- it had him wanting more from you than he could possibly handle. It was dangerous to feel this way.

“Why don’t you want me to let you go?” he asks nervously. He too was anxious for the answer. If you were to confess to Jungkook right now, he’d get the first part of the bet done, but there’d be no turning back after your confession. He would have to lie to you from now on. 

Jungkook closed his eyes, chanting to himself that it’s okay to like you for a little while, just as long as he doesn’t get too attached in the end. He needed the money, he really did.

“Because,” you start off with a sigh, staring at him now with glossy eyes. “I like you.”

Jungkook feels like he could do ten backflips in one go and it wouldn’t even drain him of energy. The smile on his face was huge, his eyes curling into that half-moon shape that made you swoon. 

Jungkook was relieved and if the boys asked, it was because he’d only have to date you for three months. He’d die before he’d admit to them that he caught feelings because Taehyung, as generous as he was with his bets, would never give Jungkook the money unless he cleanly broke up with you. It was one of his unspoken rules.

“I like you too.”

You smile at him and he can’t help but pull you close, his lips hovering over yours.

“Can I?”

You nod.

His lips graze yours slightly but he pushes a bit closer when he feels you lean into his touch. He kisses you again, and again, and again, but you pull away when his tongue had started to prod at your lips. Your face was flushed,  embarrassed to be doing this in such a public place.

“Maybe later?” you say, panting slightly. He gives you a cheeky grin and nods.

“At my place?” he asks with a wink.

You hesitate, letting go of his arms, twiddling with your fingers. You wanted to set clear labels on what your relationship was. You didn't want to accidentally get caught up in a friends-with-benefits situation and be all shocked when Jungkook ends up breaking your heart.

“So we’re dating now, right?” you ask cautiously, looking at him with a worried glint in your eyes. 

Jungkook’s mouth opens to speak but no words come out. He thinks a little harder about the whole situation... He was getting good grades, spending some quality time with a girl he’s clearly attracted to, and having his rent paid off all in one? He was killing three birds with one stone. It shouldn’t be too big of a problem to catch feelings for now, right? It’s not like any of his relationships lasted longer than a couple of months anyway.

He nods, cupping your face lightly.

“Yeah,” he hesitates. “We’re dating.”

Jungkook wasn’t aware, as he gives you another light peck, that it wasn’t possible to have his cake and eat it too.

—

It happens naturally. You coming in and out of his apartment that he shared with his friends, you tangling your legs with his underneath the sheets of his bed. It was hard to imagine a life where you didn’t wake up with him by your side. You were so wrapped up in his touch, so wrapped up in the sweet words he would whisper into your ears, that you spent most of your time with him. 

You weren’t really up to date with your friends anymore and he didn’t really hang out with his either. Jungkook shared an apartment with Seokjin and Hoseok, and so the only contact he had with the other boys was when they visited those two. He should’ve known to take you back home when all the boys bombarded into his living room, where you sat with him watching TV. 

“The lovebirds are at it again,” Taehyung coos, a mysterious glint in his eyes. “The honeymoon stage hasn’t passed quite yet, has it?”

Jungkook chucks one of the sofa’s throw pillows at his friend, obviously annoyed. What the fuck did Taehyung think he was doing?

“Quit it,” he mutters. You were sitting next to Jungkook, his arm around your shoulder protectively

“Why?” Yoongi yawns. “Anyone can see how incredibly in love you two are.”

You didn’t quite like the smirk he gave the two of you. This didn’t feel like regular teasing... it felt like he knew something that you weren't aware of. It made you curl your toes out of fear.

“Guys,” Jimin says calmly. “Stop it.”

The boys shrug their shoulders as if they said nothing wrong.

“We’re just pointing out how cute they are together,” Taehyung noted, “It’s not like we’re lying to her or anything-”

“Yeah, or leading her on or anything like that-”

“I think I should go,” you say hurriedly, uncomfortable at how tense the atmosphere was. Jungkook was clenching his fists, about ready to start a fight any second. Knowing his strength, you didn’t want anyone to walk around with a bruised eye because you couldn’t handle a few jokes- if that’s what Taehyung and Yoongi think they’re making. Harmless jokes.

“I’ll take you home,” Jungkook announces, standing up with you. Namjoon pulls him down back on the couch.

“Let someone else take her,” he says sternly. “We need to talk.”

Jungkook was about to protest until you spoke up.

“I can get home by myself just fine.”

“Hoseok and I can take you,” Seokjin insists, pulling the unassuming man up with him. “We don’t mind.”

Hoseok gives you a lopsided smile and you return an equally awkward one.

“Okay, that’s settled,” you say, clapping your hands. You walk over to Jungkook. “I’ll text you later okay?”

He nods, grabbing your hand and kissing it lightly. Yoongi scoffs and Taehyung glares at Jungkook. The dirty glances they were giving each other... You didn’t like it at all.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

—

The walk to your apartment was unnecessarily awkward, Hoseok and Seokjin were talking too much and you talked too little. You tried to respond to their every quip, but you weren’t in the mood for chatting after that whole mess.

“You okay, [Y/N]?” Hoseok asks worriedly. “Don’t think too much about what those idiots said back there, they’re like that all the time.”

You nod, keeping your eyes on the ground. There was something chipping away at the back of your mind, something you wanted to get out of your chest.

“Would you say Jungkook and Yoongi act similarly?” you hesitate to say, “like with relationships?”

The two boys exchanged nervous glances at each other.

“Well, it depends,” Seokjin starts, choosing his words specifically. “What about relationships specifically?”

“Does he...,” you start off, not knowing the right phrase without sounding too harsh, “play around with girls? Like how Yoongi played around with Soobin?”

Hoseok looked at you with a raised brow.

“Who’s Soobin?” he asks before getting punched in the arm by Seokjin. “What the fuck bro!”

Seokjin clears his throat.

“What Hoseok meant to say,” he starts, glaring at his friend a little too harshly, “is that Yoongi never really introduces us to his girlfriends. You, on the other hand, are one of the few girls Jungkook actually took the time to invite over.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok chimes in. “He’s not exactly the most chivalrous, but he wouldn’t ghost someone like Yoongi did.”

Somehow their words weren’t enough to satisfy you. There was still something off in the conversation that transpired between the three boys- as if they were all keeping something from you. You stopped abruptly in front of your apartment complex, finally making eye-contact with the two boys.

“Do you think...” you start, a slight quiver in your voice, “that Jungkook is cheating on me?”

The two boys let out a deep breath that you didn’t even notice they were holding and laughed joyously together. They cackled as if what you said was the funniest thing they had ever heard in their life. Seokjin wipes a stray tear from his eye.

“Y-you think Jungkook’s cheating on you?!”

You nod, a little embarrassed at their reaction. Hoseok shakes his head, sighing out of his laughter.

“Trust me,” Hoseok starts, his breath evening out. “Jungkook would never cheat on you.”

You start to giggle along with them until a serious look suddenly takes over Seokjin’s features. He faces you fully.

“But listen [Y/N],” he starts. “If Jungkook hurts you, just know that he does love you. Like, undeniably. He does.”

“And we’re not just saying that as his friends either,” Hoseok continues. “We know how he’s like and we can tell that he really does like you.”

You smile at the two, feeling a small sense of comfort at their words.

“Thank you, guys. I mean it.”

They pat you on the back.

“Anything for Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

—

You walk through the campus cafeteria, eyes searching for a free table that you can sit alone in. Jungkook had Taekwondo practice so there would be no lovey-dovey feeding time with him. 

He’s been a lot tenser since the living room incident (which was already a week ago) and it seemed like he got more agitated as the days passed. Not towards you directly, but he’d always mutter slight insults whenever Yoongi or Taehyung passed by. It made you worried that you had done something to possibly drive a wrench into their relationship without even knowing it.

‘Whatever,’ you thought, ‘I’ll talk about it with him when he comes over later.’

You aren’t able to find a seat, though, when you feel dainty fingers wrap around  your elbow to pull you back lightly.

“[Y/N],” Gaeun says in a low voice. “We need to talk.”

It wasn’t like you had been ignoring them deliberately, though that was definitely the case at the start. You just couldn’t find the time to really hang out with them as much as you used to since you were with Jungkook most of the time. It was like that too when Gaeun and Soobin were in relationships, so you never really felt bad about doing it yourself.

“Yeah sure. I miss you guys,” you smile at her, but she doesn’t return it back.

“Come with me.”

Gaeun leads you to a table near the back of the room, where Soobin was sat up against the wall with her own tray of food. You sit down in front of her and Gaeun takes the seat next to Soobin.

“Good, you’re here,” Soobin says, apprehension laced in her voice. “We need to talk about Jungkook.”

You roll your eyes.

“Not this again-”

“[Y/N],” Gaeun warns. “Listen.”

You keep quiet, a little intimidated of how scary their expressions were.

“It’s all a bet,” Soobin says sternly.

You furrow your brows at her. She tends to speak vaguely when you needed her to be specific the most.

“What?”

“It’s a bet, [Y/N],” Gaeun repeats for her. “Jungkook’s only dating you because Taehyung said he’d pay his rent off if he did.”

You clench your fist on the table. How could they sit there and spew lies so easily?

“What are you guys-”

“Those dicks do this all the time,” Soobin rambles. “They play stupid games with girls just to fucking break their hearts later on and-”

“I don’t believe you,” you say confidently. “Jungkook would never do that to me. Besides-”

Gaeun didn’t even wait until you stopped talking to play a recording on her phone. The voices were familiar enough to recognize.

“So you’re telling me that Jungkook’s just fucking around with [Y/N] because he wants priority registration? You have to be fucking joking...”

You could tell from the sound of the person’s voice that it was Soobin. It sounded like she was putting on her clothes.

“Of course not. He’s doing it for priority registration and his rent getting paid for the rest of the year. I’m not joking when I say Tae goes big with his bets. He likes to flex his money on us like that.”

Your jaw drops at the sound of the man’s voice. It was Yoongi. You were sure of it.

“And you guys don’t feel bad? Like at all?”

“Why should we? Jungkook’s planning to break up with her next week anyway so she doesn’t catch feelings for too long. It’s not like they were gonna last past the three-month deal...”

Gaeun paused the recording when she sees you bite your lip so harshly that blood starts to surface. This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel real.

“I hooked up with him last weekend,” Soobin admits, shame written all over her face. “He was spewing stuff about Jungkook spending all his time with you and not really hanging out with the boys like he used to.”

“You still hook up with Yoongi? After all he did to you?” you ask, not meaning to come off aggressive but undoubtedly did.

“Look,” Gauen starts, taking the heat off of Soobin. “She was just drunk and looking to have fun. I was with her that night and I was talking to Namjoon. He...”

Gaeun trailed off, but you were sick of it. Sick of being kept in the dark from something you should’ve known all along.

“What?”

“H-he told me that all the boys were getting tired of him playing around with you,” she says, twiddling with her fingers. “He’s supposed to break up with you today. Some of the guys think he’s just prolonging it to fuck with you and they’re getting really annoyed-”

You bite back the tears threatening to spill over any minute now.

“Hoseok and Seokjin told me to trust Jungkook. They said he wouldn’t hurt me-”

“Did they also tell you that their rent gets paid too if Jungkook pulled through with the bet?” Soobin replies angrily. “Because they live together, don’t they?”

You open your mouth but no sound comes out- just a small whimper. Your lips start to quiver and you bite your lip again to calm yourself down. When you had collected your thoughts, you glared up at the two girls.

“And you didn’t tell me this earlier?”

Soobin scoffed.

“You were fucking ignoring us too, how were we supposed to tell you?”

“Still it wouldn’t have killed you to-”

“Don’t take your anger out on us,” Gaeun warns, her finger pointing at you. “Jungkook is the one to blame. We told you from the start that he was bad news.”

You pursed your lips and Gaeun put her finger down, feeling guilty that she lashed out on you when obviously you were just processing the information.

“Hey, I’m sorry-”

“Why me?” you ask with teary eyes. “What did I even do to them to deserve this?” 

They glance over at each other for a long while before Soobin breaks the silence. You had the right to know, but at the same time, they knew it would break you.

“It’s a sick game that they play where they just choose someone randomly...” Soobin starts off gently handing off the next few words to Gaeun, “and you were just the first girl to walk into Professor Kwon’s lecture hall. He thought you’d be...”

“Easy,” Soobin finished.

Just as they predicted, you had burst out in tears.

—

Jungkook opens the door to your apartment, using the spare key you had given him a month earlier since he tended to visit often. It was more convenient that way. 

He was freshly out of his Taekwondo garb, still sweaty, but otherwise clean from taking a shower at the campus gym. He found it strange at how dark the room was, but he knew you were on the couch from the noticeable lump of a blanket on it.

All Jungkook wanted was to cuddle with you and fall asleep in your arms after such a harrowing day. Lord knows he needs your warmth right now.

He smiled as he made his way towards you, but stops in his tracks when you sit up from where you laid. He couldn’t quite see you in the darkness so he walked to the light switch to turn the lights on. His heart broke at the sight of you.

Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes red and puffy from all the crying. You looked a mess and his blood boiled at the thought of someone hurting you. 

“What happened?” he asked, rushing over to you and cupping your face in his hands. You push him away.

“You don’t have to act anymore,” you say softly. “I can handle it.”

He looks at you with furrowed brows.

“What are you talking about-”

“I get that you really need the money,” you say through bated breaths, “I get that financially, it would have really helped, but did you really have to hurt me to do that?”

Jungkook’s breathing stopped. Everything was happening too quickly, his world crashing down when you uttered those words. He knew what this meant, knew that now you would see past his lies. Jungkook couldn’t have you finding out this way. 

He kneeled in front of you, attempting to wipe away the tears from your eyes but you push him off.

“[Y/N] no-”

“It could’ve been anyone,” you whimper, trying to look up at the ceiling to prevent any more tears from falling down. “Anyone could’ve walked through that door and you would’ve been okay with it.”

“That’s not true-” he interjects but you stop him.

“A-and you flirted with me all the time ‘cause you knew that I wasn’t used to it,” you say, your voice quivering. “You took advantage of me.”

Jungkook shakes his head rapidly, eyes pleading for you to let him speak. It hurt seeing you refuse to even look at him, to have your eyes so filled with sadness because of what he did to you. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad.

“No, you have to listen-”

“They told me not to trust you,” you whimper somberly. “They told me and I didn’t believe them because I... I was delusional or something. I thought that someone like you could actually like someone like me-”

His heart broke. It wasn’t you that didn’t deserve him. It was him. All him.

“Please don’t say that-”

“Did you come here to seal the deal? To finally break up with me?” you ask sadly. “Are you happy you’ll get the classes you want next quarter, Jungkook?”

He clenches his teeth. Jungkook knows you’re mad, knows you have a right to be, but it feels like he’s being cornered by you. Why won’t you give him the chance to speak?

“[Y/N], no,” he says sternly, “You have to trust me when I say that it went past just a bet. I like you. Genuinely, I like you.”

There was no point in lying any longer. You deserved to know the truth, but he needed you to know all of it- not just the information your friends cherry-picked to fit their narrative. He tried to speak again, but you wouldn’t let him.

“How could you,” you whimper. “How could someone be so cruel?”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words. He should’ve seen this coming. How could he delude himself into thinking he’d be okay if you find out- that he’d be fine seeing you heartbroken? He was disgusted with himself.

“I’m sorry [Y/N],” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your vision getting blurry from the tears. He clasps your hands in his, knowing that it used to soothe you whenever you felt worried over something, but you just wailed harder at his touch. He didn’t know what to do, he didn't even know where to start.

“Stop pretending like you care,” you cry. “Please. It hurts.”

“It was a bet,” he admits and he breaths through the words to prevent himself from getting too emotional, “but I promise that my feelings are genuine. You have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” you ask crudely.

You stare at him, slowing your breaths to ease the crying. There was a certain emptiness in your gaze and it scared him. It was awfully frightening having you looking at him with a certain animosity that was not there before. Like he was a stranger.

“I can’t do that anymore, Jungkook,” you say softly, “because I hate you.”

—

A/N: Gasp A double update?! Say it isn’t so... I had so much fun writing this!!! Probably one of my favorite fics I’ve written in a while because I love this trope. How do y’all feel about Jungkook? Forgive or forget? Let me know!! Thank you @altus-gens​ for requesting this story, I hope you like it :)

Please leave any comment, critiques, or just random thoughts about my story! I’m planning my murder mystery series rn and I’m so excited (I might... do an album giveaway along with it...) I really love the direction I’m taking this blog in and I hope you guys are excited for the stories to come~~ 

buy me a coffee?

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts scenario #jungkook scenarios #jungkook scenario #bts imagine #bts imagines #jungkook magine #angst #fluff #kpop angst #kpop fluff #bangtan boys #bts #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #kook #bts jungkook #bangtan angst #bangtan fluff #yoongi imagines #bangtan scenarios

[creativeashproductions]

Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family. 

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped. 

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family. 

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes. 

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.  

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles. 

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you. 

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.” 

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner. 

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater. 

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option. 

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

 Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas. 

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide. 

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination. 

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother. 

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience. 

Tag List(s):  (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

9-1-1 Taglist:

@julessbrown 

Julie and the Phantoms Taglist:

#evan buckley imagines #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x fem!reader #evan buckley oneshot #911 imagines #911 oneshots #oliver stark #evan buck buckely #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #caitsy and ash productions

[keiyoomi]

▸ title: the proposal ▸ details: 1.3k+ words | s. kiyoomi × reader | slight angst, fluff ending ▸ note: rewritten version of this fic which i wrote when this blog was still new. lmk what you think about it! hihi. ah, and as usual, unedited.

“You’re not avoiding her, right?” Komori asked after reading the message that you’ve sent him. “Don’t tell me this is still about—”

“—I don’t know how to do it, when to do it, and where to do it.” Sakusa unconsciously nipped the tip of his finger. “I want it to be perfect. To be grand, yet intimate. I want everyone to hear how much I love her and how important she is to me.”

“And you’re avoiding her because. . .?”

Sakusa sighed. “I might end up proposing on the spot.”

Komori stared at the television where they were watching their previous matches. An idea crossed his mind after watching the video clip wherein his cousin made numerous service aces followed by the spectacular reactions of MSBY’s fans. “I know when and where’s the perfect time and place for you to propose.”

⚭

You were nervous, to say the least.

From the moment Komori picked you up from your place, until he made you sit near the courtside along with several family and/or friends of the other players present, you couldn’t seem to calm your nerves.

Not when you haven’t seen your boyfriend in person for more than a month. No text messages, no video calls, hell, even the emails you’ve sent were blatantly ignored. You even tried to visit his place to check on him, but he wasn’t there whenever you visited.

You were dying to know the reason why he’s doing this because you’re sure that you haven’t done anything that would cause any drama in your relationship.

Rumors about him dating an influencer were peacefully discussed and fixed. He easily solved your problem with your officemate who’s shamelessly flirting with you.

So, why is he avoiding you now?

Why now when you’ve finally learned how to handle each other and how to respect each other’s boundaries?

Why now when you two could easily discuss numerous issues just to avoid any unnecessary conflicts?

You roamed your eyes around the arena and looked for anyone you knew, or probably knew you. But you couldn’t even see Osamu who was standing behind his food stall earlier.

“What the hell is happening here?” you wondered. Soon after, the lights went out and you don’t have the slightest idea of what’s about to happen. Neither the fans of both Adlers and Jackals who watched the monsters’ generation’s rematch in person.

Amidst the confusion, a familiar tune began to play in the background earning a mixture of shrieks and cheers from the fans. “Welcome to MSBY’s channel! This is Hinata Shoyo and—”

“—Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Hearing his muffled voice reminded you of that day when you first met each other. Back when he deliberately approached Karasuno’s team while waiting for your turn to play. Back when he asked for your name without caring about the people watching his every move.

You sighed and smiled upon hearing the lifeless response of your boyfriend, contrary to Hinata’s bubbly way of introducing himself. Sakusa was wearing his MSBY face mask, one that was sold out as soon as it hit the market recently.

“Today we’ll be able to know more about Sakusa-san.” Shoyo threw one of the cards he was holding somewhere in the room earning a glare from Sakusa. It was noticeable how Shoyo winced upon feeling his senpai’s sharp gaze. “Few days ago, there was a poll on twitter. We’ve asked our fans—your fans—for their input. The result of that poll was surprising, at least according to Miya-san.”

“My poll didn’t even reach that number!” You giggled upon hearing Atsumu complain. Everyone in that room—the members of MSBY, you guessed—laughed at his complaint earning more whines from the blond setter.

“Three-fourths of the total number of those who voted wanted to know more about your love life.” Shoyo looked at Sakusa with hesitation. “Will that be—?”

“Y/N is fine with that.”

Blush crept on your cheeks upon hearing his response. Hearing MSBY’s supporters cheering and whistling made you feel more shy than you already are. “What the hell is happening here?”

“First question, when did you first meet L/N-san?”

“Before our match during the Spring Tournament.” He looked at the bubbly wing spiker with deep frown. “Can you not pretend that you didn’t know when it happened?”

“I-I’m not pretending or anything, Sakusa-san!” Hinata responded, clearly startled by the response from your boyfriend. You shook your head at Hinata’s reaction though. It was as if he was caught lying on the spot by someone.

Well, Sakusa wasn’t entirely wrong though. You were helping Hinata with his warm-up exercises when Sakusa Kiyoomi approached your group. You, to be exact.

A sudden rush of nostalgia flooded your system. It’s been a long time since your relationship with the “snobbish, germaphobe” blossomed into something wonderful. Something that you’d like to protect and take care of for your entire lifetime.

Hinata cleared his throat before reading the next q-card. “Next question—”

“If it’s about our first date, it was in Tokyo. When your team was invited by Nekoma. When and where did she agree to become my girlfriend, when our team visited yours, just before we graduate.” Then, you noticed that glint in his eyes whenever he’s teasing someone. “Karasuno didn’t even notice that one of their beloved managers went out.”

Hinata looked flustered upon hearing the response from your boyfriend. “Uh. . . Sakusa-san, when did you realize that she’s the one?”

You waited for his response, but instead of hearing his reply, the music playing in the background played louder than his voice. “What? Come on!” you complained, earning snickers from the people surrounding you.

Then, the lights were switched on.

Your jaw dropped when you saw the members of MSBY holding a letter. Sakusa was kneeling on top of a black yoga mat in front of his team members, hands holding a black velvet box with a shiny ring inside. Tears clouded your vision, but after reading the whole sentence, you laughed at the words formed.

‘MARRY ME WILL YOU?’

With shaky legs, you approached Sakusa and cupped his face before kissing his lips. He hasn’t voiced out the question yet, but you’re sure as hell with your answer. It doesn’t even matter if Bokuto and Atsumu’s group jumbled the words. What matters most is you and that man kneeling in front of you.

“Should I still ask you the question?”

With teary eyes you nodded your head while giggling. “Only if you’ll say their question out loud.”

His eyebrows furrowed before looking at the men behind him.

You could hear him curse at his teammates, somewhere along the lines of ‘stupid Atsumu.’

He, then, looked up at you. Eyes were begging, probably for you to drop the jumbled words made by his team, and you did.

“Y/N, you’re the most precious person I’ve ever met in my entire life. I am more than willing to tolerate your personality, but I do appreciate it if you’ll minimize your interaction with Atsumu—”

“Kiyoomi!”

“I’m always looking forward to our adventures together and I would never get tired of you and your weird habits. As long as our kids don’t get your worst quirks—”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi!”

He chuckled. “I’m kidding,” he responded before kissing the back of your hand. “Will you allow me to become the happiest man in this place today? To be your lawfully wedded husband and to be the father of your future children?”

You nodded your head, unable to form any words at the moment. He slipped the ring on your finger before scooping you up and twirling you, earning cheers from everyone inside that gym.

“You still have to explain why you avoided me for a month, okay?” you whispered against his ear.

“And here I thought I’m off the hook.”

“Mmhmm. You wish.”

#keiyoomi: does impulsive shits #keiyoomi: edited fics #haikyuucreations #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #hq!! x reader fluff #hq x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq!! fluff #hq fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa kiyoomi x reader fluff #sakusa x reader fluff

[1kook]

hulu & woohoo

summary: But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings: slight feelings of insecurity, smut; fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, handjobs, unprotected, riding, slight praise kink misc: if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read wc: 6.3k

[ this is a sequel to netflix & chill !! ]

started off silly then I was like 😳what if we sprinkled in a dilemma™️😳 anyway here’s the kook i imagined for this fic <3

Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook does in fact have his own paid subscription to Netflix. He doesn’t ride on his family account anymore, nor does he swindle his friends into sharing their passwords ‘just once.’ Just like everything else about his mature persona, Jungkook is adamant on paying those ten and something dollars for the streaming platform.

However, his fall into capitalism doesn’t end there.

Among other things, Jungkook also pays for Hulu, Amazon Prime, Disney Plus, HBO, as well as a couple indie stuff you’ve never heard of in all your years. He’s a bigger nerd than you originally thought, with an incessant need to watch every single piece of media available.

Frankly, you don’t see the need to own so many different streaming services, especially not when pirating websites exist and you could so easily watch Jersey Shore for free, if you’re not too concerned with infecting your laptop with every software virus known to humankind. Luckily for you, your app developer boo with his—admittedly tiny—knowledge in computers can iron out those issues for you.

It’s moments like these, Jungkook fiddling with the internal system settings of your laptop to the best of his abilities, that you find yourself grateful for having met Jungkook, and even if it’s been a little over two months now and he still hasn’t popped the question (“Will you be my girlfriend?”), you’d still kiss him silly.

He sighs for the umpteenth time, rubbing his eyes as he stares at the same system warning on the screen. “Babe, just pay the six bucks for Hulu and you can watch all the Jersey Shore episodes you want,” he says, leaning back in his chair as he stares at you from across the dining table.

You scoff, almost scandalized by his suggestion. “You think I have the resources to hand over six bucks every month?” You abandon your homework in front of you, the one you had so dutifully been working on before your computer was flooded with about a thousand Hot Moms in YOUR Area! notifications before abruptly shutting down. “Buddy, that's lunch at Starbucks.”

Jungkook clicks around a few more times, round glasses sliding down his nose which he will occasionally scrunch up to save from falling. “First of all, lunch at Starbucks sounds sad,” he retorts, and you kick his shin from beneath the table. He doesn’t even flinch, the damn muscle bunny, instead leveling you with an unimpressed glare. “Second of all, I told you I’d give you my passwords but you said—“

“No!” You exclaim.

Call it what you want, but that rose-tinted image of Jungkook being a saint in this world, too sweet and naive for his own good, never faded. Your brain saw it that night of your first date and ran with it, never mind the fact he was quite the devious scoundrel, gentlemanly perception be damned the way he’d tug at your skirts and your hair in public like you were on the playground, always teasing, always playing with you, so discreetly no one would ever see it coming from him, of all people. Your brain saw all that too, the little childish streak he’d get sometimes, but your heart stomped it out, wrapped up in the image of Jungkook being your golden boy, and you couldn’t possibly take advantage of such an angel’s kindness to mooch off his streaming services.

From across the table, Jungkook gives you a pointed look, as if he knows you’re trapped in that brain of yours again. Unlike you, Jungkook was easily able to pick apart your true personality, and the way the devil on your shoulder spoke more often than not. He knew you were prone to outrageous schemes and evil villain monologues, and he still kept you around. Let you linger around his home in his big shirts and eat his healthy breakfasts with him. Jungkook liked you, as silly and mean as you were, and he was very obvious about it.

“The password—“

“Is none of my business,” you halt him with a tone of finality in your voice, gesturing for him to slide the beat up laptop back over. Jungkook sighs, runs a hand over his face like you’ve worn him out, but relents.

Taking it with a triumphant grin, you settle back into your seat, nudge his foot with yours beneath the table. Jungkook nudges you back, the adorable fuzzy socks he was wearing making you giggle, a sound that finally brings a smile to his face. “Y’know…” he says, “if you’re gonna be the Disney villain you claim to be, you might as well just take all my passwords.”

Rolling your eyes, you focus your attention back on copying some notes for class, falling back into the rhythm of glancing at the screen and back at your notebook. “You’re cute,” you mindlessly hum, taking great pleasure in the rosy hue that rises to his cheeks, one he tries to hide by coughing into his elbow. You set your pencil down, watch him squirm under your gaze like he always does, blushy and shy like he hadn’t had you twisted like a pretzel beneath him an hour ago. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching over to place your hand over his, where it’s idly tapping over some textbook he’s got out. Immediately, he turns it over, squeezes your palm in his. “I don’t mind getting thirty two viruses an hour.”

The reluctant worry in his gaze remains, sweet puppy eyes flickering over you as if trying to catch a hint of a lie. He was so adorable, you could kiss him silly. Finally, Jungkook gives in, though he does so with a lot of effort; letting you fool around on pirating websites truly was the bane of his existence. “Just bring it to me if it breaks down again, okay?” He settles, and you nod.

To your surprise, he brings your hand up and presses a kiss to the back of your knuckles, holds your gaze like he absolutely adores you.

He was so handsome, so caring, and so blatantly not yours.

—

“Not heading to your boyfriend's house today?” Doyeon asks the second she steps into your shared dorm, fighting with the boots on her feet. In the last two months of knowing Jungkook (everybody say thank you, Kim Namjoon), it’s become rare to see you home for more than two nights in a row. Jungkook was irresistible in more ways than you could count. If you weren’t falling into bed with him, you were smothering his cute face on the couch, or hovering behind him in the kitchen.

“Not my boyfriend,” you deny, huffy, and she knows how you feel about the subject, which is why she only prods more.

“Wow,” Doyeon drawls, glancing over your shoulder where you’ve got Jersey Shore playing on one half of the screen, an essay document on the other. “The man you see every other night, who looks and fucks like a god, who buys you a shit ton of presents, and treats you like you’re his world… is not your boyfriend?”

On screen, the toxic couple of the century is engaged in another screaming match, the reality tv show quickly spiraling as dramatic music takes over the speakers.

You scratch the back of your head. “Yeah. Well.”

Doyeon almost combusts at your response, flinging herself onto her twin bed in disgust. “He is a fool, a court jester if you will,” she seethes. “You're the hottest babe in a fifteen mile radius chasing after him and he still hasn’t asked you?”

Deciding you can’t comfortably watch the toxicity on screen with Doyeon talking so loudly, you slam down on the spacebar to pause the show. The fickity website, set out to ruin you since you first discovered it a few weeks ago, crashes. It takes your half-assed essay with it as the whole computer suddenly blacks out. You sigh.

“And on top of that,” she’s still going, “you’re hot and evil. Like bro. Come on.”

“Yes, I’m sure every man dreams of getting with an evil seductress,” you sarcastically reply, reaching for your phone to text Jungkook for help, when you suddenly remember why exactly you’re not with him right now. He’d gone to Busan to visit his family this weekend, a quick trip, he’d told you with his tongue down your throat. You shiver at the memory.

You still really want to watch Jersey Shore, though. Almost desperately. It’d been a long time since you watched it, and you honestly forgot the pivotal role that and a bunch of other reality shows had played in shaping you into the conniving woman you were today.

Doyeon seems about done with her tirade against Jeon Jungkook, dramatically storming into the en-suite bathroom you share with your neighbors.

Tapping your phone against your lip, you carefully consider your options. You could just boot your laptop back up, pray for the best and move on. But the 240p episodes were doing a number on your eyes, and for a moment you considered handing over those six bucks to pay for a Hulu membership.

It’s short-lived, and eventually you settle on calling Jungkook.

He answers on the fourth ring, and wherever he is is insanely loud. There’s voices shouting, lots of bustling, until eventually a door closes and Jungkook’s silky voice oozes through the speaker. “Baby? What’s up?”

“Hi,” you respond, feel something disgustingly sweet settle in your chest. “Is this a bad time?” You ask tentatively.

Jungkook laughs, low and raspy. “No,” he tells you, and you hear the smile in his voice. “Never a bad time for you.”

You could lunge through the screen right now, rain kisses down on his face until he’s giggling, telling you it’s too much. The feeling in your chest tightens, and you almost blurt out something embarrassingly cheesy, but a voice in the background calls for him, and Jungkook’s voice responds, “In a sec, mom. I’m talking to a friend right now.”

The glass roof shatters.

Even though you’d just told Doyeon you two weren’t a thing, despite all the coupley things you did, something about Jungkook telling his mom you’re just a friend isn't right. You frown, listen as his mother, a voice just as delicate as his, asks him to grab something from inside. With each second that ticks by, the discomfort you feel grows tenfold, until you’re barely holding yourself together.

Eventually, Jungkook returns. “So what’s up?” He asks again, and you remember what you initially called for. Putting on your big girl pants, you brush your uncalled for insecurities to the side, making sure he can’t detect anything in your tone.

“Your Hulu password. Can I have it?” You say, realize how robotical your voice sounds and belatedly throw in a, “please.”

Jungkook laughs, loud and boyish. The sound almost makes you melt, makes you fall for him even more. The niggling doubt in the back of your head still rings, but it’s temporarily washed away by the man on the phone. “Finally giving in?” He chuckles, doesn’t give you time to respond. “Sure, babe. I’ll text you the login stuff.” You hum, twirl your pencil idly as Jungkook announces he has to go, something about his family waiting on him. You bid him adieu, send him a halfhearted kiss over the phone, and only hope he feels half as content as you do when he does the same for you.

You don’t want to be dramatic about it. In your heart of hearts, you know Jungkook is just more reserved when it comes to dating. He wants to be one hundred percent sure your heart is in the same game as his, tied to the same rules, and putting in the same effort. But there’s a seed of insecurity that plants itself in the back of your head, tells you the reason Jungkook hasn’t asked you out is simply because you’re not good enough.

Jungkook was as rich as they come—not in money, but in personality. (Well, with the way he was advancing through his career, you get the sense he’ll be rich rich in the next few years too.) He had a huge heart, so caring and supportive of those around him, and an even bigger moral compass—hence the ridiculous amounts of streaming services he paid for—and you strongly believed no one was worthy of standing beside someone as wonderful as him.

Sadly, that meant you too.

Jungkook was your dream lover, and with every passing day, you were beginning to think you weren’t his. It had been two months since your first date, and realistically speaking, you know it’s not weird for people to casually date for such a time. It hadn’t been that long, truthfully, but the way you and Jungkook had clicked made it seem so.

He treated you like a queen, pleased your heart and body like no other. None of what Doyeon said earlier was a fib—he picked you up from school in that classy Benz, let you stay the night and sleep in his clothes, ate you out in the morning like you were his breakfast. You acted like you were in a relationship, but what exactly were the two of you?

Were Jungkook’s feelings even at the same level as yours?

Some days, you couldn’t fathom the idea of being so far away from him, texting him incessantly to feel a semblance of his presence. There was always a metaphorical elephant sitting on your chest, the weight of your unlabeled relationship, your insecurities, waiting for him to finally cut you off, decide you’re not what he wants. You wonder sometimes if he sees you out of convenience, but you always remind yourself Jungkook was too emotional and soft to drag someone around like that. (Or was he?)

Realizing how deep you’ve fallen into your spiraling pit of uncertainty, you shake yourself of those thoughts, mindlessly typing in the Hulu login credentials Jungkook texts you.

—

You’re in the student center when Jungkook comes home, laptop and books spread out over a circle table to stop anyone else from coming up to you. You’ve got your headphones in, the background sounds of late 2000’s club music from a Jersey Shore episode drifting through your ears.

A hand suddenly grabs onto your shoulder, and you send nearly half the table’s contents onto the floor when you screech, leg blindly kicking the table. “Woah, woah,” Jungkook calms, pulling out an earbud for you, and the sight of his face makes you relax again, before you’re striking his chest.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” you warn, shooting daggers at him as he pulls a chair close to you, plopping down beside you. Jungkook laughs, kisses your temple.

“You doing okay, beautiful?” He inquires, and your heartbeat, which had only just begun to settle from your fright, lurches at the hooded gaze he sends you.

You nod, unconsciously lean closer to him. Jungkook smiles, cheeks pulled tight when you plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Glad to hear it,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close.

You never thought you’d be one of those people. Y’know, the couple shoving PDA down everyone’s throats in a very crowded place. But you can’t help it with Jungkook, gaze honed in on the mole beneath his lip as he recounts his trip to his family’s place. His hair is fluffy again, parted a little to the side to show his forehead. He’s got that big dark hoodie on, the one you love. Your love-addled brain thinks, I could give you a family, but you quickly shut that thought down.

There was no need to think as much for a man who wasn’t even your boyfriend.

Before you can spiral, there’s a set of fingers brushing over your neck, almost casually. You return your attention to Jungkook, watch him leisurely gaze over the bustling students around you. “Missed you,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear. Hell, if your eyes hadn’t been trained on his face, you don’t think you would’ve.

Finally, he glances back at you. He says nothing, his eyes dipping down to your mouth. He leans forward, presses a smooch to your lips, only to smile at you afterward. “Come over?”

The difference between you and Jungkook is that you were very obviously, outwardly evil. You were not embarrassed to admit you were scheming, or that you had ulterior motives behind doing something. You used what you had to your advantage, mastered all types of expressions to get what you wanted.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was a subtle schemer. In fact, he was so goddamn subtle, you doubt he even knew he was a schemer.

But he definitely was one, and your experiences with him were enough to convince you so. There were times he’d stare at you longingly, like a puppy, until you’d do something for him. Times he’d use his demure face to lure you into going to the hardware store for him, into watching some boring documentary with him. Times, like now, where his voice was a little too smooth and low to be considered his normal pitch, clouded gaze sweeping over your features until you understood what he meant by come over.

Numbly, you nod, watch the quirk of his lips as he kisses you once more before gathering your things for you.

The car ride passes by in a flash, Jungkook’s hand on your knee, your head in the clouds. You imagine how easy it would be to just lean over right here, tug him out of his sweats and get that super suck 5000 on him. But Jungkook’s shy, the devil on your shoulder croons, he’d like it better in the backseat, where no one can see.

Your bag hasn’t even touched the floor yet when he pushes you against the door of his house, shoes and coats half off as he envelopes your lips with his.

His hands are warm, cupping your neck to guide you through the kiss, blindly pulling you down the hall. You feel him falter by the stairs, torn between just throwing you on the couch and ravishing you there or making the trip upstairs to the comfort of his bed. You reach up, run your fingers through his hair. “Wherever you want, baby,” you reassure him, and become consumed with glee when his hands grab into the backs of your thighs, hitch you into his arms as he rushes the two of you up the stairs.

The bed is as fluffy as you remember it, and you bounce up towards the pillows after he drops you on the end. He tugs his shirt over his head, chocolate strands coming out a mess afterwards, before crawling up your body. Jungkook’s hands are incessant, grabbing onto every inch of you he possibly can. He kisses up your tummy, pushing your shirt up as he goes, hikes it over the swell of your breasts to gently fondle them in his palms.

When he’s just about suffocated himself between them, he pops back out, catches your gaze with a twinkle in his. “Hi,” you squeak, and Jungkook grins, leaning up to kiss you.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he returns, let’s your tongue slide into his mouth, sucks on the appendage teasingly. You whimper, and Jungkook releases. “You miss me?” He asks, and if you hadn’t been well-versed in the art of Jungkook’s sexy talk, you wouldn’t have noticed the tingle of nervousness that curls around the question.

You placate him, “always.”

It’s all Jungkook needs as he wiggles you out of your clothes, shucks them off somewhere to the side. His hands trail over your body, massage your breasts and pinch the nipples. You sigh, melt into the sheets as he runs his palms over you. He rolls you over, pulls your hips up and carefully pushes your face into the mattress, pushing your hair to the side to peck your neck when he leans over.

“So soft for me, sweetheart,” he purrs, hands slithering around your waist, down your abdomen until the tip of his pointer finger is idly swirling over your clit.

You whine, clutch the comforter beneath you at the touch. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, push your hips back against him. He’s still got his sweats on, and you want desperately to turn around and rip them off of him, feel the press of his cock against your ass.

As if sensing your urgency, Jungkook calms you with kisses trailing over your spine, hot breath fanning over your neck. His fingers slow, just barely grazing over your clit. “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” He asks, and you struggle to choke out a response when he presses his finger down against you.

“No,” you eventually gasp, jolt when his hand reaches down, glides through the swollen folds of your cunt.

As if content with your response, Jungkook lets his fingers caress you for a few beats, laps against the side of your neck as you whimper, beg him to continue. When he does, it’s with no ounce of his usual gentle attitude, two fingers shoving forcefully past the tight clench of your pussy lips, deep into your cunt. You shudder, gasping into the sheets.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises, flutters a kiss right below your ear. Your neurons are working overtime, unsure of what to do as he explores your cunt, fingers dragging against your walls. You want to close your eyes, bask in his touches, but every brush of his fingers has them rolling back, fluttering open. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it?”

His fingers curl, briefly brushing over your soft spot. But it’s enough to make you cry out, pant against the sheets. “Yours,” you choke, push back against him like he’ll do it again.

A thumb circles your clit, and the tight feeling in your belly snaps, has you crying out his name as your first orgasm in a few days washes over you. “Jungkook,” you whimper, nearly sob when his hands pull away, letting you flop down onto the mattress in a boneless heap. Your thighs feel sticky, and you watch blearily as Jungkook hovers behind you.

“So quickly?” He chuckles, turning you back over. He spreads your legs, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room, and you shiver. A lone finger drags over your cunt, collecting the glossy substance on the tip, before Jungkook is sucking it into his mouth.

He had an affinity for this kind of stuff, you’ve learned. Like he genuinely thought your cum was the most delicious thing in the entire world. That being said, you’re not surprised when he ducks down, pushes your legs to your chest as he begins devouring your pussy.

“Slow down,” you gasp, hand curling in his hair as he spares you not, sensitivity be damned. He was gonna lick you clean. He groans, tongue shoved into your cunt, cute nose brushing against your clit. “Kook,” you warn, though it’s more of a shuddered cry. “I-I’ll come again.”

He pulls off with a wet smack, licks over his tongue as he narrows you with a daring glare. Gone was your sweet Jungkook, replaced with this cum-eating heathen who only purrs, “in my mouth” at your warning.

You scream when the second orgasm hits you, pushing his face against your cunt as his tongue continues, lapping at your folds and your hole as a gush of wetness spurts out of you. For a second, your vision pales, soundless cries caught in your throat as you come all over his face. When you touch down on earth again, your body feels featherlight.

Jungkook is watching you from between your thighs, his face, hair, and chest glistening.  “Oh fuck,” he gasps, shit-eating grin slowly consuming his features. “Did you just.”

You groan, cover your face with your palms as Jungkook settles over you, beaming excitedly at your newest ability. “No,” you whine, pushing him away from where he’s basically glued to your cheek. “That’s so weird.”

He laughs, cute and airy. “Fuck, sweetheart, you squirted all over me,” he sighs, cuddles against you, and you wrap your arms around him only to hide your face in his shoulder, also glistening with your pleasure. He shifts closer, and the hard press of his cock rubs along the inside of your thigh.

“Can we take a break?” You murmur quietly, hesitantly. “I can’t feel my legs.” Jungkook nods, presses a kiss to your temple as he gets off the bed, tossing his t-shirt over to you. He stumbles towards the en-suite, comes back with a dry face and chest; his hair is still damp. He tugs the sheets out from under you, cuddles close. He’s got the two of you wrapped up in no time, your head cradled against his shoulder as he reaches out blindly for the tablet he keeps on the side of his bed, the Hulu app already open.

“Any requests?” He hums, scrolling through the multitude of movies and shows. You wiggle closer, stop his finger when he returns to the home page, and Jersey Shore is the first thing to appear. “You’re kidding.”

“It’s a good show!” You defend, click on it before he can argue. You press closer, throw a leg over his waist where you can feel his still rock hard member hiding beneath his sweats. Poor guy, you think, he must be suffering. But you have to rest for a moment if you wanna ride the shit out of him and knock him breathless like you’d planned.

Jungkook doesn’t comment on the erection he’s sporting, instead choosing to criticize everything wrong with Jersey Shore. You’re not surprised. He’s an avid film nerd, obsessed with ‘real’ storylines, not whatever reality tv shows were.

You’ve seen this episode about a hundred times, so you don’t really mind that he completely ruins it for you with his nitpicking. It’s cute, listening to him ramble about television integrity while you listen to the subtle thudding of his heart beneath your ear.

He’s on his fifth slandering of DJ Pauly D when you decide you’ve had enough, muscles in your legs feeling rejuvenated as you wiggle into his lap, toss the tablet off to the side as you straddle him. “That show makes you hard?” You tease, let your sensitive folds settle over the bulge in his pants.

Jungkook combusts, cheeks flushing at your jab. “No,” he huffs, “my pretty girlfriend’s boobs pressed up against me does.”

You short circuit.

“Huh?” You blurt dumbly. Jungkook rolls his eyes, too concerned with guiding your hips over his crotch to realize you’re having a complete meltdown in your head. An airy moan leaves his mouth, head lolling back against the pillows, when he moves you just right, grinds against you perfectly. But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. “Kook,” you say, cup his face in your palms to force him to look you in the eye.

Jungkook huffs, pointedly looking down at where you sit on him, “babe, gonna need you to—“

“What did you say?” You interrogate, press your foreheads together until he has no choice but to look at you.

Annoyed with your act, he groans. “Babe, your hips,” he urges, almost desperately.

“No,” you retort, “not until you say it again.”

“Say what again?” He cries, lips twitching in irritation, and you’re about two seconds from behind shoved into the mattress, pounded into from behind like he’d done the last time you teased him a little too much.

“That I’m your girlfriend!” You exclaim, heart hammering in your ears.

Jungkook seems to finally halt at that. “Oh,” he responds, leaning back to scan over your expression. “You are?” He says, unsure of what point you’re trying to make.

Your brain fizzes at the news. “Since when?” You cry, suddenly feeling dumb for all the time you spent moping over this perfect boy you thought didn’t want you. “You never asked!”

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed stare, reaches over for the iPad you tossed to the side, some dramatic fight scene on a boardwalk taking place on screen. You wanna scream. Why is he so concerned with Jersey Shore now of all times?

Before you can rain down your displeasure on him, he’s turning it around and showing you a bookmarked email.

It’s from you, apparently, sent a few weeks back at exactly two in the morning. You glance at the date received. It’s from Doyeon’s half birthday, when the two of you had drunk yourselves silly on wine. The title is some mix of dashes and exclamation points, but that’s irrelevant when the contents of the email come to view, some stupid slur of beeee myyy boyfrienderdd????? ;))((;;; that has your jaw dropping in mortification.

You glance back at Jungkook, who seems just as confused as you. “What the hell?” You shriek, snatch the tablet from his hand to see that not only was it a single email, but a thread of emails all asking the same question—there’s even a three stanza sonnet detailing your love for the mole on the side of his neck. You could die. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?! I was so drunk— how could you even take me seriously?”

Jungkook shrugs, almost amused now as he watches you scroll through the twenty emails you sent him. “The next day you told me you really liked me over lunch, so I didn’t mind. Besides,  drunk words are sober thoughts, y’know.”

You stare in disbelief. “You told your mom I was your friend,” you whisper.

The blood rises to his cheeks quickly. “Babe,” he sputters. “I’m not exactly introducing her to every girl I date after three weeks.”

It makes sense, and you hate how much it does so. Pursing your lips, you look away, focus on the bedside table and hope he doesn’t see the tears that threaten to spew out of your eyes. He does, he always does. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He hums, sits up to pull you into his arms. One hand brushes over the back of your head, gently. Softly. “Did that upset you?”

You shake your head no, can’t help the ugly Kim Kardashian sob that rips itself from your throat. “I thought you didn’t like me,” you sniffle, covering your face with the iPad when he tries to duck closer and get a look at you. “Because it’s been two months.”

Jungkook shushes you, hugs you close to his chest as you cry like a baby over some apparently unjustifiable doubts. “That big brain of yours,” he sighs, kisses the frown of your head. “Too busy being evil to be logical.” You whine in protest, and Jungkook chuckles, carefully laying back with you clinging to his chest.

He lets you cry it out, palms rubbing over your back, listens to the annoying Jersey Shore opening song playing when the episode ends. When you’re done, you sit up, try to pretend your eyes aren’t swollen and puffy. Jungkook smiles. “All good?”

You might love him.

“I’m gonna ride you,” you announce, and he chokes in surprise, and before he can try to convince you it’s okay, you’re wrestling his sweats and boxers off, taking his half hard cock into your hand. Jungkook flounders, tries to calm you down, but you’re on a mission, working your hand over him until he’s fattening in your hold, melting into the pillows.

“Baby,” he grunts, rolling his hips into your palm. You lean over, pucker your lips and let a thick drop of saliva fall onto the tip of his cock. It trickles over your fingers, makes it easier to run your hands over him. Jungkook groans, reaches down to cup his hand over yours, urging you to squeeze tighter.

When he’s finally as hard as you want him, tip engorged and angry, you sit up, place your palms on his chest as you scoot over him. Jungkook watches you with dark eyes, skin flushed as you line him up. His hands reach for your hips to steady you, tiny gasps falling from his lips at the first prod against your folds. You’re wet from watching him squirm beneath you, from feeling the heavy weight of his cock in your hand, and you hope he feels how much he excites you.

“That’s it,” he croons as you slowly sink down on him, whimpers catching in your throat from the stretch. “That’s my girl.”

Jungkook is purposeful with his words, smiles at you when the muscles in your thighs jolt at the term. When you’re seated to the hilt, folds brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook ruts experimentally. “Fuck,” he chokes breathlessly.

You let your body adjust, spine tingling with every subtle shift from the man beneath you, still so sensitive from your two orgasms from before. Jungkook waits, even though you know all he wants to do right now is fuck up into you like a madman.

When you’re relaxed enough, you begin to move, pushing yourself on your knees slowly, hissing at the drag of his cock against your folds. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, fingernails scratching against where you’ve got them on his chest still. Jungkook grips your hips tightly, and you unconsciously reach for his forearms to steady yourself instead.

“There you go,” he purrs as you slowly pick up the pace, cock sliding inside of you rougher, faster. You know it’s mostly him, muscles in his arms flexing as he moves you up and down, but you don’t care—it feels so good, the upward curve of his cock brushing against your soft spot with each drop of your hips.

He holds you down on one thrust, grinds you over his cock until your clit is rubbing against him roughly, and you cry out his name. You want to kiss him, so very badly, but your position makes it hard. Besides, the sweat beginning to pool in the deep of his collarbones hinted at his oncoming orgasm.

Still, you can’t help the way your eyes instinctively go to trace over his mouth, pouty lips pushed out even more in exertion, teeth grinding together every time your pussy swallows him anew. “Kook,” you mewl, hips bucking forward.

He hums, plants his feet firmly on the mattress as he begins fucking into you. “What is it?” He grunts, pistons into your dripping cunt as you whimper, pleasure crawling up and down your spine. “My pretty girl needs something?”

You wail, nod your head as he continues fucking, ramming his cock into your quivering hole, precum dripping over him. “Yours,” you gasp, mind stuck on what he’d said earlier. “‘M all yours,” you sob, body finally giving out, and you barely catch yourself from falling into him with a palm pressed flatly against his chest.

Jungkook smirks, bucks into you brutally, like he wants you to fall into a boneless heap on top of him. “Yeah, you are,” he groans, as you finally give in, lips brushing against his ear when you flop down on him. “My pretty girl,” he huffs, and you nod, muscles pulled taut as your orgasm begins looming over you. “So cute and mean,” he rambles, lips pressed to your temple. His hips are beginning to lose their rhythm, thrusts growing stilted as he chases his high. “But you know what?” He murmurs, and you whimper. “I like her just like that.”

If his words don’t knock the air out of your lungs, your orgasm surely does. It makes you shudder, the way his hands run over your body, cock ruts into your heat, and you almost cry when the pleasure gets a hold of you. Your muscles tighten, and then loosen, melting into his chest. You’re trembling in his arms, like a leaf holding onto a branch for dear life, choked gasps of his name muffled against his neck.

Jungkook pistons into you, rounds the final corner in his race to orgasm, and eventually spurts his hot cum into you, coats your walls as another reminder that you’re his. He’s a silent orgasmer, sounds catching in his throat as his body twitches beneath you, silent even afterwards as he regains his senses.

A few moments later, you’re shifting out of his hold, pushing yourself onto your elbows to glance down at him. Jungkook’s eyes are shut, but, as if sensing you’re looking at him, he flutters them open, chocolate irises softening at the sight of you.

“Holy shit,” he groans, rolls you off of him carefully. His hand brushes over your thigh, like he’s contemplating licking you clean again, but you stop him with a pointed raise of your brows. “Fine. Pass me the tablet.”

You do, and it’s almost unnerving how easily the two of you slip back into comfort, Jungkook changing into some shorts and handing you your discarded panties, before climbing into bed to watch Jersey Shore. You’ve missed about an entire hour-long episode, so you end up rewinding until the point you last saw.

“You and your Netflix and chilling,” Jungkook snorts, head nestled against your breasts. You roll your eyes.

“This is Hulu,” you point out.

“Oh yeah,” he hums, snuggles closer. His body feels so nice and warm over yours, hands wrapped around you like a lifeline. You end up positioning the tablet off by your hip, supported by a pillow so the two of you can watch properly.

You’re still processing your new title, your new boyfriend, when he perks his head up suddenly, solemn gaze catching yours.

“Hulu and Woohoo,” he says, ever so seriously, and you understand why Doyeon thinks he’s a fool.

[ part three ; imax & climax ]

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #mine

[girlmeetsliv3]

Cruel Liaisons

~~ Previously Lingerlust ~~

A/B/O!MiniMoni x Reader; Poly BTS

“When one strikes the heart of another they seldom miss, and the wound is invariably fatal.”

Release Date: May 7th, 2021 @ 12:15 p.m. (GMT-5)

Apologies for the late update. Hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warnings: blood and gore.

February 2nd, 2022

           “Please state your name for the record.”

           “Jeon YN.” YN stared at the recording machine in front of her, it looked antiquated like the type that wasn’t automatically connected to a cloud or storage system. “Those types have to be manually saved. Which can come in handy.” The officer’s cleared their throats, drawing back YN’s attention. What were their names again? “We need you to state your sub-gender as well.” The one on the left spoke lowly, his voice coming out a bit tense and nervous. “Beta.” When YN tried to smell them, she noticed both were wearing scent blockers, though her sense of smell was never her strong suit.

           “This is officer Park Sooyoung and officer Kim Jisoo.” The taller one stated, her tone dull, as if she rather be anywhere else. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the large cup of coffee in front of her – a bed seemed to be her choice. Officer Kim reached to the ground and placed a file on the desk, she opened it to reveal a series of photographs; five to be precise. Males and females from around a same age group are placed with one female in the center, she looks strangely familiar to YN. The rounded tip of her nose and arched brows but she can’t quite place the face. There is someone YN does recognize though, a face she saw just a few days ago.

           “Anyone you recognize?” Officer Kim asks, her tone is serious but airy. The smile on her face after every sentence lets YN know that she’s the ‘good cop.’

           YN points at the second photo from the left, “Him. I saw him in a missing persons ad on the news, but he didn’t look this old.” They had likely picked a picture from when he was younger, the man on the news held a bright smile. His jawline sharp and his cheekbones high but not defined. The man in the photograph in front of her had a pronounced jawline, hollow cheeks, and an ugly scowl that did nothing to mar his features. ‘K.T’ read the bottom.

           “What news channel and around what time?”

           “KBS, maybe late evening. I watch it before I go to sleep.”

Both officers nod, as Park shifts around on her seat. Now facing directly at YN, resting both elbows on the metal table. “Are you aware of the reason you were brought into the station today?” Officer Kim jumps in before YN can answer, “Just so you know you aren’t being charged with anything.”

Yes. “No, I don’t know.” She shrugged, keeping her eyes level and gaze neither too intense nor too bored.

“You’re here due to your affiliation with Alpha’s Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin,” Park spoke, “They’re your employers, correct?” There was an edge to her voice that YN recognized. Many people weren’t fond of them – many had a reason not to be.

“Yes.” YN nods.

“How long have you worked for them?” Kim asks.

YN notes how neither women are writing anything down, nor looking towards the one-sided mirror behind them. Are they perhaps recording this with a second device? If that’s the case it's not just her voice YN must be cautious of, but her expressions as well. “Around nine months, I’m their housekeeper and take care of Hyunwoo.” After a bit of silence from the police, she elaborates more, “I cook, clean, and help the child with his homework.”

“That’s quite a lot for just one person. Especially considering you have little background in those areas before you were hired, correct?”

They’re trying to bait me. “I’m used to doing those things at home.” YN shrugs, she can see the growing frown on Park’s features.

“How exactly did you hear about the job?” Kim leans forward, but one of her hands drops below the table. Park’s eyes dart over to her partner for a second, but YN catches it. Kim likely gave her a signal or something like a reassuring squeeze, YN hopes it’s the latter. “What was the hiring process like?”

“From an acquaintance Dr. Sihyuk.” Both officers nod along, they don’t seem to recognize the name. “Bang’s dead. Unlikely anyone will find something there.” They always knew to cover their bases. “Um, normal, I guess. I sent in an application and then had an interview.”

“You made a lot of money as the Kim’s housekeeper. Did you never ask yourself where that money was coming from?” It seemed the officers were done trying to be subtle.

“No, it wasn’t my place. Plus, most of the money I earned went into paying family debts.”

“Do you know Kim Namjoon’s or Park Jimin’s source of income?”

“Again no. I just did what I was supposed to do.”

“You never thought to ask?”

“No.”

Sooyoung smirks, “Interesting how everyone around the Kim’s just accepts things at face value. Their co-workers, drivers, bodyguards, even their housekeeper just does what their told. You weren’t even a little bit curious as to how they could possibly afford the lifestyle they have?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” YN’s arms were clenching around the chair, trying to hold herself back from reacting negatively to the hassling.

“But we aren’t cats.” Sooyoung remarks and for a second YN feels like she’s lost a battle. Jisoo points to the picture in the center, it's a beautiful young woman with flowy hair and a bright smile. Her delicate features give away her omega nature. Though the closer YN inspects the picture, they’re bags under her eyes, permanent frown lines etched onto her face, a hollowness to her eyes. She looks somewhere between life and death. “Do you recognize this woman? You lingered on her a bit longer than the rest of them.”

The longer YN stares at her the more she starts to piece things together, but it still feels like she’s missing something. So she gives a generic answer. “She looks kind of familiar. Has that kind of face.”

“What kind of face?” Jisoo questions.

“Like…pretty, popular, all over billboards kind of face.”

It's enough to satisfy them for now. They slowly start removing all the pictures while leaving only the woman’s, the longer YN sees it the more unnerved she becomes. Her head begins to hurt as another migraine begins to pound at her temples. Creating a sort of hazy fog over YN’s mind. Both officers’ then hold up the picture and flip it revealing a picture of the same woman holding a young child wrapped in blankets. She looks so much happier, so full of life. Instantly YN places her, recognizing the toddler wrapped in blue velvet.

“This is Hyunwoo’s mother. The last time anyone saw her alive was three weeks ago when she just so happened to be having dinner with your employers.” Fuck.

Present

           YN’s phone dings as another text from Mark appears on her screen: ‘boss wants to know when you’ll start paying?’ She groans exhaustedly, responding with ‘I have been paying. He gets half my salary every week.’ Which hasn’t made living very comfortable for YN, but she makes do with what she can.

           Mark: It’s not enough princess, not with the way daddy’s been spending money.

           Me: What am I supposed to do if you keep giving him money?!

           Mark: That’s not up to me. So, the money?

           Me: I’m looking for a second job. One that pays better.

           Mark: Just go sell your eggs or something. Not like you have any use for them.

           “Asshole.” YN muttered, muting her notifications. She looked up to the entrance of the fertility clinic debating whether or not to go in. It wasn’t like she had much of an option; she needed the money and fertility clinics were the only ones willing to provide big sums of money fast. Not to mention she had missed a day of work to make the appointment, which meant less money to give to Mark. I hate this. I hate this so much. YN was about to walk away, leave everything when she spotted a black BMW parked on the curve. Its driver observing her intensely. She knew what it meant.

           Mark was getting pushy. Meaning his boss was getting pushy and YN didn’t need to be on the bad side of some loan shark – not again. So, she mustered up the courage and opened the glass doors, being hit with the smell of lavender and pheromones. It reeks. Nonetheless, she forced a smile on her face and walked towards the front desk. “Hello, I have an appointment with Dr. Sihyuk.”

 “Unfortunately, there is a limit to how many eggs we can safely remove from you. Betas aren’t like omegas, you have a set number of eggs. Removing the majority of them would leave you infertile. We’d also be unsure of whether the eggs are useful or not without running the proper examinations which can take weeks.” Dr. Sihyuk explained as he went over YN’s medical file, each sentence uttered destroying her hope little by little.

“I understand but I am quite fertile. I carry a recessive gene from my father who is an omega. Not to mention I’m not interested in having children so I would have no use for my eggs,” she could sense the doctor’s hesitation, “unlike someone who might benefit from them.” I just really need the money.

“Oh, I know, you betas are lucky in that sense. Don’t have to worry about population growth.” Though it was said jokingly it still made YN uncomfortable, let her know he wasn’t buying her bullshit. The doctor closed the file, “Why exactly are you interested in donating your eggs? Is it for the money?” He saw right through her.  At her silence the doctor sighs, “We get one of you every once in a while. Always wrapped up in some business started by a family member or mistakes you’ve made.” Sihyuk opens a file cabinet beside him and shoves her file in there, “Unfortunately for you there’s no market for beta eggs.”

YN sags exhaustion and fear taking over her, “I –” Sihyuk takes a small white business card out of the cabinet holding it out towards her. “Fortunately for you, I happen to know someone hiring. They specified only betas applied.” Hesitantly YN takes the card, “What kind of job?” Though she knows one should never look a gift horse in the mouth it feels to good to be true. “A housekeeper for an alpha couple. They’re long-time associates of mine. Give them a call you won’t regret it.”

 Evening of June 20th, 2021

           Hyunwoo wouldn’t stop crying. YN truly regretted feeding him chocolate before bed, he had nightmares that had not let the three-year-old rest. Though YN had time and time again reassured them there were no monsters under his bed or strange men coming to take him at night, he wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted she had stayed in bed with him and when that didn’t work cried out for his daddies. The issue being his daddies were currently busy, in the middle of their ruts with their weekly guests. Thankfully, their bedroom was across the apartment from Hyunwoo’s, or else she’d have to explain to the child that the screams being heard didn’t belong to ghost.

           “I want papa! I want daddy!” Hyunwoo shrieked, snot and tears dribbling down his face. At this rate, he’d get himself sick if he didn’t permanently injure his vocal cords – or her hearing.

           “I know. I know, but they’re busy right now. I can go get them later.” When their guests are gone and they’ve cleaned their bedroom. YN never quite knew how they manage to sneak them out and clean up so fast, but she didn’t question it. Less work for me.

           “NO! I want them now!” Hyunwoo bolted towards the door, his little legs running as fast as they could. Though they couldn’t compare to YN’s.

           She hugged the toddler, “Alright. I’ll go get your daddies but you have to promise me you’ll wait in bed.” Hyunwoo began to shake his head, “Come on Woowoo, imagine what they’ll say if they hear you threw a tantrum. What would daddies say?”

           That seemed to sober him up a bit, “They would be disappointed.”

           “Exactly,” YN led him back to bed, gently tucking him in. “I’ll be right back with them soon, okay?”

             The hallway felt eerily long as YN struggled with how to politely interrupt without being subjected to the alpha’s rages. Ruts were an especially tricky time and there would be very little she could do to protect herself if it took a turn for the worse. Not to mention she was breaking one of the very few rules set by them: no bothering us after nine pm. YN glanced at her watch, it was currently 11:43 pm. I am so going to lose my job. But Hyunwoo needed his parents, and she didn’t want to risk the toddler running into their bedroom and being witness to something that would certainly cause trauma. Not to mention I might get sent his therapy bills. More debt. YN reached their bedroom doors. A light red hue leaking from the bottom, she willed all her courage and knocked.

           “Come in, darling.” Jimin spoke, his dulcet tone sounding a little rougher than normal. Surprisingly the door was unlocked, so YN opened it. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, just Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin laying in their bed. The red silk sheets, she so often had to wash, concealing their more intimate parts. It wasn’t until YN noticed the stains covering their bodies and the walls. It caused her eyes to dance around the room until she landed on what had caused such a mess: the two dismembered bodies lying on the floor. The red lighting of the room serving to conceal what the stains truly were: blood.

           Namjoon beckoned her inside with a wave of his hand and YN felt obliged to obey. She could still smell the pheromones in their air, still feel their rut. Not to mention, Hyunwoo might have been following her. She locked the door behind her.

           “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Namjoon spoke, smirking and showing off his blood-stained pearly teeth.

#yandere bts #poly bts #minimoni #yandere kim namjoon x reader #yandere park jimin x reader #yandere kim namjoon #yandere park jimin #abo dynamics #abo bts #abo au #cruel intentions #kim namjoon x reader #park jimin x reader #murder #mystery #suspense #a/b/o au #a/b/o bts #alpha kim namjoon #alpha park jimin #alpha bts #beta reader #omega oc #whodunit #girlmeetsliv3

[tacticaldiary]

hi!! can i please have some headcanons of bakugou with a fem! foreign reader who’s like a childhood friend? they met at age 9 when the reader went on vacation to japan and stayed with his family since both of their moms are friends? and after realizing she’s got an impressive quirk and doesn’t annoy him, bakugou’s like “you’re alright ig” and they’ve been keeping in touch through phone calls and stuff after she left? and then one day, aizawa announces there’s a new student, which turns out to be the reader, leaving bakugou shocked at first (especially since she never told him she was moving to japan to begin with). but when she greets him like “hey! been a while since we saw each other face to face, huh?” bakugou smiles back and says “yeah”? everyone’s basically shocked to see bakugou and the reader intereacting without him literally yelling at her every few seconds, to which bakugou responds “well, she’s the only one who doesn’t get on my nerves, unlike you damn nerds!!” ☺️

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

Reunion

Kinda platonic but not really? :) - @klvbxlove​

Pairing: Reader x Bakugou Katsuki

Genre: Fluff

Reunions aren’t always big and emotional. Sometimes they’re quiet and personal. Bakugou Katsuki isn’t a quiet person, and the class is left dumbfounded as someone manages to rein him in for the first time.

Masterlist

We all know how Bakugou is very...hard shelled...

There are very few people who he actually tolerates being around, let alone being friends with them.

You were one of those rare people.

Maybe it was because of the fact that you two had met when you were young, about 9, and the fact that he had been much more open to people back then.

Regardless of the reason, the moment he laid eyes on you, however, he was immediately curious.

Your quirk was incredibly strong, not stronger than his of course, but it was up there. You weren’t afraid to talk back to him and you shared the same dream of becoming a hero.

Both your parents were good friends and so you saw each other often, for the duration you had stayed in Japan.

Bakugou had warmed up to you surprisingly quickly, as surprise to his mother. You could often be found playing Heroes and Villains together.

He had thrown multiple fits when he didn’t get to be the hero-

When it was time for you to go back home, after spending a few months on vacation with him, you remember him clinging onto you, though your sure he would deny it if he was ever confronted.

You guys had kept in touch after that through texts and the occasional facetime call. You were one of the few people he enjoyed spending time with, not that he’d ever admit that.

He learns the hard way that timezones are a bitch to deal with. There have been more than a couple of occasions where he’s had to yell at the rest of 1A for pestering him about why the hell they could hear his voice talking to someone at 2am?

It was obviously a hallucination-

He reckons he’ll probably never see you face to face for a while. The thought totally doesn’t hurt him a little

So imagine his surprise when there’s a new student in their class.

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

He rocks back on his chair, looking around the room lazily as he lets Kirishima talk his ear off about something. It sounds interesting, whatever it was, as evident by Mina’s excited squeals and Sero’s bright grin. His eyes scan the room, attempting to block out the noise and his eyes lands on an empty desk.

Mineta hadn’t shown up all week.

Not that Bakugou was complaining, of course. He didn’t like the brat at all. He was obnoxious and caused unnecessary trouble for everyone within a 5 feet proximity from him. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen the extra this whole week-

His thoughts are cut off by the arrival of their teacher opening the door. Aizawa steps in and the room slowly filters to accommodate the respectful silence. Nothing out of the ordinary. People slip into their own seats and finish whatever conversations they were having.

Bakugou leans over his desk, propping his head up with his chin, surveying the notebook in front of him. He vaguely hears Aizawa talking, something about making someone feel welcome and a new student…

A new student?

The phrase doesn’t really catch his attention. It would be another extra who he was better with, so what was the point. Still a little curious, he drags his gaze away from the piece of paper, and with a bored look, looks up towards the front of the class.

His pencil drops to the ground with a clatter as his eyes meet another pair of extremely familiar ones. Ones he had seen last night.

Holy fucking-

Y/N seems to be standing there in a slight daze as well, staring at him just as openly as he was at her. She seems to be the first one to snap out of it, turning back to listen to Aizawa’s instructions. She nods at the desk he points at, and Bakugou’s gaze follows her as she walks over to what used to be Mineta’s desk.

This was one hell of a dream. The rest of the lesson flies by in no time, Bakugou not processing a single thing he was being taught. As soon as break comes around, his gaze snaps back to her again. Y/N is surrounded by the others, welcoming her and exchanging greetings. Bakugou stays at his desk and stares at her again, a small furrow in his brow.

This was real? It couldn’t be. It was? What if it was? Why hadn’t she told him she was coming?

They lock eyes again, and Y/N smiles and waves a little nervously. Kirishima, who’s seated on Bakugou’s desk notices and raises an eyebrow, waving her over with a bright grin.

Bakugou watches as she make her way over to them slowly, and by the time she stands in front of him he’s concluded that this was not a dream after all.

“Hey! It’s been a while since we’ve actually seen each other, huh?” She grins, slipping into the seat in front of him. He holds his gaze, feeling much more confident now that she’d actually broken the silence.

“...The hell are you doing here?” The chorus of groans from behind her would have left him amused if he weren’t in this annoying state of disbelief.

She shakes her head at his tone. “We moved to Japan a week ago. I wanted to surprise you, but-”

“Call me fucking suprised then.” he says, starting to relax a little, still a little shocked at actually being able to see her. He could just reach out and physically touch her and she would be there…

“Glad to hear my plan worked.” She smiles. “I’m happy to actually see your grouchy face in person.” He was...far more attractive in person, she had to admit. He was older than she last saw her and he had grown well. A handsome face accompanied by a body she could tell he worked hard for.

He snorts and shakes his head, a small smile on his face.

A smile, not a smirk.

“Yeah...glad to see your ugly face too.”

She scoffs in mock offence. They carry on a conversation, catching up with each other the whole of break, earning looks of disbelief from everyone in the class. Bakugou hadn’t raised his voice or yelled or lost his temper even once.

They hadn’t heard him raise his voice in about an hour…Who was this sorceress?

When the class is walking back to the dorms, Denki questions why he’s acting so...civil. He earns a classic scowl and a response.

“She doesn’t get on my nerves, unlike you damn extras” he rolls his eyes, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Y/N, who was walking next to him, a fond grin on her face.

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha fanfiction #bnha scenarios #bnha fluff #mha bakugou #mha fluff #mha scenarios #mha imagines #mha headcanons #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki #fluff #angst #hurt comfort #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #x y/n

[tennessoui]

Pleaseeee do 43 or 46. I love your work btw

(insert months late panicked noises about how I thought 45 was 'falling in love with best friend's partner' and so wrote hold me fast for it, but actually 43 is 'falling in love with best friend's partner' very whoops very my b)

so i did 43 again anyway, but in a modern au and where the couple is actually in love (but it is an obikin happy ending because kit did write it)

(wife is unnamed the entire time so no character bashing it could literally be anyone ive been calling her rebecca in my head lmao)

43. Falling In Love With Best Friend's Partner (2.7k.......)

Obi-Wan’s kettle goes off with a whistle right as there’s a fierce banging on the door. He almost drops his favorite mug in surprise, which puts him in a bad mood from the get-go. But for the love of Christ, who would come call at his house at nine at night? It’s more than rude; it’s downright indecent.

He stalks through the house until he can unlock the door to give the person on his porch a piece of his mind, but then he sees who it is.

It’s Anakin, and he’s crying.

If there’s anything that can make Obi-Wan quiet his temper on a normal day, it’s Anakin Skywalker. A distressed Anakin Skywalker brings out every ounce of his compassion.

“Anakin?” He asks immediately, stepping forward to touch the man on his arm gently and guide him inside. He doesn’t even have to suppress a sigh when Anakin doesn’t remember to toe off his shoes in the entry way--that’s how worried he is at Anakin’s tears and the way they only increase in frequency and sound when Obi-Wan moves his hand to his back and pushes him further into his house, all the way to the dining table where he urges him to sit down.

Anakin still hasn’t said anything resembling actual words yet, so Obi-Wan goes to the kitchen to make them both a cup of tea. It’s either that or give into the temptation to thumb the tear tracks off of his cheeks and that’s a little more revealing than Obi-Wan likes.

He’s not that brave, for one.

For another, Anakin is a married man. A man married to one of Obi-Wan’s closest friends, a previous grad student turned co-author of at least seven publications, with more on the way. He can’t risk tenderly wiping away her husband’s tears because Obi-Wan Kenobi has been at least a little in love with him since they were introduced four years ago, when he’d swanned up to him holding two champagne glasses in one hand and stuck out the other to shake. “My wife talks about you nonstop, Professor,” he’d said. “I used to be so jealous until I sat in on one of your lectures when I was still in school. Made sense then.”

Obi-Wan had not known what to do with that, but had taken the proffered champagne glass and assured this strange man he had nothing to worry about.

After all, Obi-Wan wasn’t the sort of man to chase after former students or people in marriages.

Over the next few years, however, it became quite clear to him that there was a big addendum needed in his moral code: people in marriages to former students drew his eyes apparently the way no one else has ever managed to in his life.

Or perhaps it was just Anakin. Perhaps it’s always been just Anakin.

Coming to terms with the shameful, quiet love he carried for a man who flirts like it’s second nature and always has a warm touch or word to bestow on Obi-Wan had been difficult, to say the least.

Anakin’s wife had been one of Obi-Wan’s closest friends. His inconvenient and persistent feelings for Anakin had turned her into one thing only: his wife. They could not be friends when Obi-Wan spends half his nights wondering what it would be like to sleep with his arms around her husband. They could not be friends when the last dozen times the married couple had invited him over for dinner, he had paid more attention to her husband than to the food or to the other topics of conversation or to her.

And she has to know. She has to know why their latest paper has taken eight months to write. She has to have seen the way Obi-Wan perks up so obviously when Anakin brings his wife her lunch, the way he has to turn away from their chaste kisses, the way he listens keenly to any information she gives him on her husband, the way he had excused himself from the room when he heard her tell another colleague that they were trying for children.

In academia, you learn fairly quickly that it is useless to resent someone for having what you do not. It seems that Obi-Wan has to learn this lesson all over again when it comes to people. It’s hard. It’s selfish. He hates that he loves Anakin. He hates that he loves Anakin the way he does, that it’s been four years and he still loves him, that not even his happy marriage, his love for his wife, the fact that his wife is Obi-Wan’s friend, can change it.

Anakin considers them friends now, which is so much worse and yet still more than a pathetic old man like Obi-Wan deserves. Worse, because when Obi-Wan had started rejecting dinners at the Skywalker household, Anakin had pushed back with worry. When he’d noticed that Obi-Wan’s lunch most often consisted of whatever cold cut sandwich was on sale at the gas station next to campus, he’d started bringing Obi-Wan a lunch along with his wife. When Obi-Wan had stopped responding to his texts, he showed up to drag him to a night out.

Worse, because being Anakin’s friend is nothing like being his husband, and the differences make him ache as much as the acts of kindness make him want to weep.

It’s still more than Obi-Wan deserves. He knows that intimately, the way he knows that nothing can ever happen between the two of them because Anakin loves his wife. And his wife--

“She cheated on me,” Anakin gets out between uneven breaths.

Obi-Wan promptly drops his favorite mug and watches it shatter on the floor.

“Oh!” Anakin exclaims at the loud noise, peeking around the corner, and looking like he’s about to offer to help. Obi-Wan shoos him out of the kitchen, and grabs the remaining mug of tea to follow him. The mess can wait for a later time.

“What did you say?” he asks carefully, nudging the mug over to Anakin, who wraps his hands around it.

Anakin blinks up at him wetly. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Obi-Wan drags his chair closer and dares to lay a hand over Anakin’s arm, watching his face for any negative reaction. Anakin just looks at it though, as if he can’t even comprehend it.

“Please, tell me what happened,” he entreats softly.

Anakin blinks and takes a sip of the tea. It’s chamomile, which is the only tea blend Obi-Wan knows Anakin likes.

“I, um.” Anakin clears his throat and reaches up to wipe at his eyes. Obi-Wan thinks his breath leaves his body for a second when he sees the slighter lighter ring of skin around Anakin’s fourth finger. He never thought he’d see what that sliver of skin looks like.

“I came back early from a work trip, cause. Um. Cause we’ve been having problems,” he starts with a quick side glance at Obi-Wan. “Just some fighting. Going to bed angry. I guess stuff you’re never supposed to do.”

Obi-Wan tries to arrange his face in an expression meant to convey that he definitely knows what stuff one is supposed to do in a marriage.

“So I thought I could, you know. Surprise her. But when I got in, there was someone else in the house. In our bed, Obi-Wan, she fucked someone else in our bed. I--” Anakin starts crying dropping his head into his hands and dislodging Obi-Wan’s arm completely.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan murmurs, at a loss for what to say. He settles for kneeling down next to Anakin and rubbing his knee. This is platonic.This is fine. This isn’t taking advantage of Anakin in this state.

Obi-Wan has absolutely no desire to take advantage of Anakin in this state, not when he’s so hurt and sad and in need of comfort. Obi-Wan just wants to provide him with comfort, but it feels like a grievous violation to touch Anakin like this willingly. It breaks one of his most cardinal rules.

But it turns out he’d break a lot of rules for Anakin, apparently.

Especially when Anakin responds so well to his touch, practically throwing himself out of his own chair and into Obi-Wan’s arms, tea forgotten on the table.

“How am I supposed to go back there?” He sobs into Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I thought...we were supposed to raise kids in that house and she...she’s been...she’s been cheating on me in our bed--”

Obi-Wan tentatively strokes through his hair, adding pressure when Anakin reacts positively. He hates seeing him like this, so torn up and aching. He’d loved his wife, it’s so clear to see.

But Anakin has always struck Obi-Wan as the sort of person to put loyalty over everything else. For his wife to break his trust so suddenly and quickly must spell the death of his love for her. That must be what Obi-Wan is witnessing now, with Anakin, sans wedding ring, sobbing into his arms like this. This must be how Anakin’s love dies.

“I’m so sorry, Anakin,” he murmurs into the man’s temple, pressing his nose there at his hairline and inhaling as softly as he can. He’s disgusted with himself. He can’t help himself. He--

“She said she loved him,” Anakin sniffles, seemingly unaware of anything but his own pain. Obi-Wan gathers him closer at these words and rubs at his back, offering silent comfort. To have Anakin close like this is agony, but to be an appropriate distance away from him as he fell apart would also be agony of a different sort.

And if the last four years have proven anything, Obi-Wan will choose the agony that causes Anakin any modicum of happiness he can give him.

“She said--” here Anakin pauses and takes several deep breaths against the cotton of Obi-Wan’s now damp sleepshirt. “She said she didn’t when they started, but then I--I didn’t notice and it--she said it just happened, but--”

He breaks off and freezes in Obi-Wan’s arms quite suddenly. Obi-Wan stills his own hands in response. “But?” he asks, barely more than an exhale.

“But she said she couldn’t feel sorry about it,” Anakin whispers back, pulling away so that he can look at Obi-Wan’s face.

Obi-Wan stares at him, uncomprehending. Anakin’s wife is the unapologetic sort of woman, yes, but to be caught cheating on her husband and then refuse to apologize for the betrayal? That’s something else entirely. “What?” he stutters out in a completely unflattering way.

Anakin’s eyes glisten, but he purses his lips and flexes his jaw before he speaks again. “She said she couldn’t feel sorry about falling in love with someone else because it’s quite clear I’ve done the same thing. And--and she may have physically cheated on me first, but I’ve...I’ve been emotionally unfaithful to her for years now.”

Obi-Wan blinks quite a bit and very fast, tightening his hold on Anakin before pulling away just as quickly. “That’s absurd,” he spits out, trying to calm his rushing heartbeat. “Anakin, you’re the most loyal person I know. You would never--”

“She was right,” Anakin cuts him off, breaking eye contact with him to look over his shoulder and then down at...at his lips. “I didn’t even realize she was right until she said it, but. But I’ve been in love with someone else for three years of my five year marriage. I--I’m not who we thought I was.”

And his eyes well up with tears again and Obi-Wan isn’t strong enough this time from stopping himself from reaching out and brushing one of his tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“Anakin, you’re not…” thinking straight, serious, in your right mind, in love with anyone but your wife. “You’re hurting, Anakin,” he settles on saying. “You need to...sleep. To rest.”

You need to stop saying things that will break my heart in a few days when you realize you don’t actually mean them.

But Anakin has always been stubborn, especially when it comes to Obi-Wan’s demands. “Obi-Wan,” he insists, shoving his face forward so that their heads connect with a thump. “Obi-Wan, it’s you. It’s been you. For. For longer than I knew. For three years at least. Maybe longer. It should have been you from the beginning. When--”

“Anakin, please,” he finds himself begging, scrambling up and off the floor and away from this troublesome man. “Do not say anything you cannot take back. You are in distress, you’re not thinking clearly.”

Anakin follows him to his feet. “I need to say this,” he says, voice breaking. “Please, Obi-Wan. Let me say this.”

Obi-Wan has never known how to say no to Anakin. He closes his mouth instead.

“Before we even started dating, that’s when I sat in on your lecture. When we were seniors. I just wanted to see. Wanted to know why she liked you so much, measure up my competition. But then I liked you, more than I’ve ever liked a guy before. And it only got worse after I met you again, at that party, I don’t know if you remember, but. The days after, I drove my wife insane asking questions about you and your work and your interests and your hobbies, and I didn’t even realize I was doing it.

“You were just...you were so amazing. But I loved her so much I didn’t even notice I had any love left in my heart to give to anyone else, but then there you were. There you were and every time I saw you it was like...coming up for air. Like I was living someone else’s life and then sometimes I just got to be myself and it was only ever when you were around and--I didn’t know it was love until my wife told me tonight that she fucked another man because she couldn’t stand that I fell in love with one first, and I knew immediately who she was talking about. It was you. It’s...Obi-Wan, it’s always been you.”

Anakin closes the distance between them slowly, as if he’s giving Obi-Wan a chance to run. Obi-Wan does consider it, he won’t lie, but he stands stock still as if frozen to the ground. Anakin reaches up gently and wipes at one of his tears. Obi-Wan hadn’t even realized he started crying.

“Please don’t cry,” Anakin whispers through his tears. “I understand if you--if you don’t feel the same way, but I couldn’t be quiet about it once I realized. I don’t know how to love quietly.”

Obi-Wan does. Obi-Wan’s spent four years loving Anakin quietly, and now he doesn’t have any words left in him to love him out loud.

Anakin’s hand falls away from his face at his continued silence and he looks, if possible, more heartbroken. “I...I understand,” he murmurs. “You don’t feel the way I do. I--yes. I get it. I...deserve it.”

At this, Obi-Wan has to say something because it’s been one of the tenets of his world for years now that Anakin Skywalker deserves all the love there is in the entire universe. “No,” he says roughly, dragging the words kicking and screaming from the pit of his stomach. “It’s not that. It’s--”

Anakin looks at him with wide, wet, blue eyes.

“It’s that if you...if I say it and then...tomorrow you decide you don’t mean it...darling you have to know there would be no recovering from that, for me. I’ve been so obvious.”

Anakin blinks as the words register in his brain, and Obi-Wan can tell the exact moment they do because he inches closer and clutches tightly onto his shirt. “You’ve not been obvious at all,” he murmurs, eyes still shining, even as he directs his entire attention to his lips.

“What would I need to do?” Obi-Wan breathes, aching to wrap his arms around his waist and terrified that doing so will startle Anakin away from him. “What would I need to do for you to understand how much I...how much I’ve loved you for all these years?”

“Kiss me,” Anakin whispers, leaning down as if drawn by some magnetic pull.

Obi-Wan knows he will hate himself in the morning for giving in when Anakin is so obviously grief-stricken and looking for no-strings-attached physical comfort. And yet, he meets him halfway anyway.

#asks #prompt fill #lets be real these havent been ficlets for months let alone snippets #these are just. fics lmao #anyway i couldnt choose who to hurt/comfort with this prompt so ii actually went with both haha #very on brand #anakin's pov would of course contain the famous 'oh. OH.' of realization #obikin #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #i have so many amazing asks to respond to and im going to do it tonight #i just wanted to post this and then spend like a solid eight hours on my paintings because they have a really real and fast approaching #deadline #cw: cheating #married with a twist au

[shedobewritingalittle]

Liability

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, platonic!Sam Wilson x Reader, platonic!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The reader deals with the repercussions of Steve’s actions and death of the three people closest to her.

Rating: R

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of death, feeling alone, depression, you know the vibes

Bucky and Sam had been put in charge of making sure Y/N Stark was okay. Steve had made them promise on his deathbed that they would look after her. Of course they had agreed, not wanting to argue with a dying man. Sam and Y/N were best friends and well, Bucky had nothing else to do and he wasn't going to disobey his best friend's wishes.

Things were okay for the first month after Steve died. Well, as okay as it could be all things considered.

Bucky and Sam moved into the townhouse that Y/N had shared with Steve to make sure she was okay. It was unspoken agreement between the three of them: they were going to move in since they didn't have any other place to go and Y/N had more than enough room. She had just lost her brother, her best friend, and the man she loves so they expected her to be barely holding on, to be extremely upset-but she seemed okay. Sure there was moments were she would suddenly start crying or days were she wouldn't come out of the room she had shared with Steve, but both men had expected this. Y/N was grieving after all.

Then she told them that she was going to stay upstate with her sister-in-law and niece. Y/N missed them and wanted to make sure they were doing okay. Sam and Bucky thought nothing of this-in fact, they were happy that she wanted to see them. Her face seemed to light up when talked about her upcoming trip and both men thought that being away from the city and with her family would greatly benefit her.

Y/N had given them both a hug the day she left, telling them that she would give them a call when she had arrived at Pepper's. Nothing had seemed amiss as they had helped her fill her trunk with bags.Sam had offer to drive her, but she had insisted that she can drive upstate by herself. Y/N had looked so happy, truly happy when she climbed into the car. She had given them a huge smile as she waved, pulling away from the curb. Both men had felt so relieved, thinking that this was the best thing for her. For the first time after Steve has died, they felt like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

Y/N called later in the day when she had arrived at Pepper's. She painted a vivid picture of how excited Pepper and Morgan were to see her, how good it felt to be around her family. Y/N had even said that her and Pepper talked about Tony, which Y/N had said made her feel a lot better, made her feel not so alone. Bucky and Sam were happy and content with her situation, making her promise she'd call again.

For the first couple of weeks, she did call. Y/N always had something to tell them too. Sometimes it was her and Morgan had spent the whole day swimming in the lake or her and Pepper attempted to make some vegan sourdough bread. Y/N always sounded happy over the phone, which made Bucky and Sam think that things were looking up, that she was getting better.

And then the calls stopped.

The calls stopping wasn't an immediate cause for concern. Bucky didn't believe that Y/N, -as a grown woman-needed to check in with them every single day or every single week. Sam wasn't as so optimistic. He knew Y/N and he knew that she kept her promises. Even if she had gotten busy or was doing really good, she would have at least sent them a text. It wasn't like her to go completely dark on them. But he also know it wasn't his place to force Y/N to check in. After all, she was an adult.

And then Rhodey had called.

Sam and Rhodey didn't call each other a lot so when his name popped up on Sam's phone, the Falcon knew that this situation was serious. Sam wished for the best, hoped that Rhodey was just calling about a mission or something have to do with the government.

He wasn't so lucky.

"Hey is everything okay with Y/N? She hasn't been answering her phone." Rhodey questioned, immediately making Sam's stomach drop.

"She's upstate with Pepper. She left a month ago. I thought you knew that." Sam replied, which quickly got Bucky's attention. Bucky stood up a little straighter, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Sam, I'm upstate with Pepper and she hasn't seen Y/N since Steve's funeral." Rhodey quickly responded, following by a sigh and some muttered curse words. Sam felt sick to his stomach, bile rising up in his throat.

Rhodey explained that Y/N had been calling Pepper every day, but the calls stopped a few weeks ago. Rhodey had tried to tell her that Y/N was probably just busy, but Pepper knew something was wrong. So Rhodey had called, trying to ease Pepper's worries. Sam told him that Y/N had said she was going up to go see Pepper and Morgan. Her calls to him having stopped around the same time as her calls to Pepper did.

Y/N Stark had just vanished into thin air.

Sam knew they had to work backwards in order to find out some idea of where she was and that had led them to the closed door leading into Y/N's room. Neither of them had been on the other side of the door. It wasn't their place to go into her room, their room. Yet, seeing that no one knew where Y/N was, they didn't have much of choice.

Bucky and Sam didn't know what to expect when they walked through the white door, but they didn't expect everything to seem so...neat. Everything seemed perfect. The bed was made, clothes were neatly put away. One thing that did seem weird is that all of the pictures in the room were all laying picture side face down on the surfaces they were on. Pictures that were hanging on the walls were covered with a multitude of things-a t-shirt, a pillowcase, or a scarf. While it wasn't an immediate cause for concern, it did make both men feel incredibly uneasy. The pictures aside, everything looked normal and incredibly clean. Not a thing was out of place.

Other than her cell phone, resting on the dresser. The same phone that had been calling both Pepper and Sam.

There's one thing that remains completely consistent with the Starks and that's the fact they are both incredibly smart.

Y/N Stark had been on the run with Steve, Sam, Nat, and Wanda. She was good at hiding, amazing at it. Y/N knew that her phone could be tracked and that they would be able to see what location she was calling from. While Sam wanted to just give her the benefit of the doubt and just pretend she was hiding out on a resort somewhere, he knows better. The fact that she had created a system to talk to both Sam and Pepper using prerecorded responses hinted at something much darker-something that he tried not to think about.

After some digging and pulling some strings, Rhodey and Sam find security camera footage of Y/N buying four different bouquets. They're able to follow her car via the footage to three different cemeteries. Upon visiting each one, the three men find that she had left flowers for her parents, Tony, Natasha, and Steve. Using the time stamps on the videos, they learn that she spent almost an hour at each cemetery, with the last one being the cemetery where Steve was buried. After that, the trail went cold and they were back at square one.

Then her car was found by Rhodey, exactly halfway between the city and Pepper's home, hidden on an old stretch of road.

Every piece of luggage was perfectly in its place, exactly where Bucky and Sam had helped her put it. Her shoes that she had been wearing had been left on the passenger seat, her wallet left behind in the glovebox with not a card out of place. There was no signs of a struggle. It just look like she pulled off the the side of the road for a minute. Y/N didn't want to be found and since she didn't want to be found, she had been smart. If someone had taken her, they would have been sloppy and messed up along the way. Not Y/N. She knew better.

The people that she had left behind were at a complete lost. They were all terrified, none of them wanting to think about what might have happened to Y/N or what she was capable of. She had lost three people incredibly close to her-her brother, her best friend, and the man she loves. People have lost a lot less and done a lot worse to others and themselves.

"Is there anywhere the two of them had? Any special place they'd go?" Sam asks Pepper once all of their leads dried up. The woman is clearly distraught, wringing her hands and her eyes rimmed with red. Rhodey hadn't wanted ask Pepper, but they were left with no other option. It doesn't take long for her to answer. She must've been thinking and thinking about where her sister-in-law has gone the couple of weeks they have been looking.

"There was this little farm house an hour outside of the city that Steve kept telling her that they were going to raise a family in. It-It has a big oak tree. You can't miss it." She answers, looking up at Sam and Bucky, "Please, please find her."

-

Pepper was right. They couldn't miss the house.

It was an aging colonial located in the middle of nowhere, with farmland and forest surrounding it. Its white siding was covered in moss in place, making it look more green than eggshell. The wrap around porch had been ripped off in places, leaving gaps. Some of the emerald green shutters have been torn off completely or were hanging by a single hinge. Most of the windows were broken and Sam was pretty sure it was leaning to the left a little. On the second story, an entire part of the roof has caved in. The best part of the entire place was giant oak tree. It was absolutely massive-probably the biggest that either man had seen. An old tire swing hung from one of the lower branches, the rope fraying but still somehow holding on.

Bucky and Sam glance at each other before getting out of the car and walking up the gravel driveway. It was eerily quiet and everything seemed to be at a standstill out here. The porch steps creaked and felt like it was going to collapse under their feet. The porch itself was warped, some planks missing completely. Sam sighed and carefully knocked on the door, really hoping for the best. There was no response, so he tried again. When there was no answer again, Sam reached for the door knob, finding it unlocked. The door creaked open loudly and both men were prepared to see the absolute worse waiting for them inside.

Yet when Sam and Bucky step inside the house, their eyes immediately land on her.

Y/N was nestled in a nook of one of the windows that still had glass in its panels, knees drawn up into her chest.  Old, moldy, and decaying furniture from decades earlier still filled the home. Mementos of someone else's family and life left behind, as if the home's inhabitants had gotten up one day and never came back. Pictures still left in their frames, their photos weathered and abandoned, It reminded Bucky of home, of the life he was ripped away from and he understands why Steve had like the house so much. It was a house that was out of place and out of time, just like the Star Spangled Man With A Plan.

"I was hoping you guys just let me be." Y/N announces, not bothering to turn her head to look at the pair. She rests her head against the window, nails digging into her calves. She was wearing a dress that was once white and the men could see her skin was littered with cuts and bruises.

"We just wanted to make sure you were okay." Sam announces, taking a step forward. The warped wood floors creak under his weight, announcing his movement. Y/N chuckles humorlessly, her breath fogging up the dingy glass.

"He said that we were gonna buy this house. Told me that he was going to marry me and we were going to settle down. Told me that we were going to have a family together. Told me that he wanted a family. Told me that for five years." She tells them unprompted, eyes flicking down to look at her knees, "And he did want all of that. Just not with me. I was just a replacement for her."

Bucky and Sam don't know how to respond. They know that there's nothing they can do, no way that they can defend Steve for his actions. Neither of them were happy with the man abandoning his grieving girlfriend in order to live out a half-baked fantasy. Y/N knows this too, which is why she continues.

"I told him to go. I told him if that's what he wanted that he could go. Told him I was going to be okay. He had already made his mind up at that point. For some reason, I-I didn't think he'd actually leave." Her voice cracks, her cool facade crumbling. Her nails digging deep crescents into her legs, "Why-Why would he leave me? I just lost Nat and Tony and he left-"

Tears roll down her cheeks as she releases her grip on her legs, loosening her hold. Her lower lip quivers, unable to rein her emotions back in. The question wasn't for Bucky or Sam and honestly, Y/N doesn't even know who she is asking.

"My brother-My brother got his family and I-Steve kept telling me that we were going to get married and have a house full of kids." She forces the words out through the emotion, finally turning to look at Bucky and Sam, "Did you know that he and Peggy had three children together, Sam? I don't think he told you that when you got the shield."

Her eyes flick back down to look at her knees, tears rolling down her face. The house has gotten a lot colder, especially as the sky starts to darken outside. Y/N lifts her head, resting it against the frame of the window.

"I bought this house. It was going to be his Christmas present this year. A push in the right direction, if you will. Tony told me not to do it, said it was a bad idea. And he was right. He was always right." Y/N announces, a bitter laugh slipping out of her mouth, "And now I'm stuck with this fucking shithole."

For the past eight years, Y/N has been in a relationship with Steve. He was the man she loved, the man who she saw herself marrying and having children with. Y/N had turned on her brother and gone on the run with Steve, even though she knew that might cut off ties from the only family she has. When Thanos snapped his fingers and made half of the universe disappear, Y/N had clung to her boyfriend. Sure she'd go visit Tony, Pepper, and Morgan and would occasionally see Natasha, but she practically spent every waking moment with Steve. After the Snap, after she saw how happy her brother was, she knew she wanted a family. And Steve-Steve just kept telling her that they would have a family one day.

Y/N had been too distracted to see the cracks in their relationship. She was too in love with Steve to see that he hadn't loved her the same amount. Too in love to see that she was only a replacement for the woman he truly loved. When the cracks started to slip through, Y/N tried her best to fix them by making excuses. She had layered and layered excuses onto of each other in order to hold her relationship together. And while Y/N should've known better, she just didn't want to face the music and see everything for what it was.

That had worked until Natasha died, until her brother snapped his fingers. Until Steve told her that he was going to leave, not taking how she was feeling or what she was going through into consideration. Until he told her that he just didn't love her in that way. Until she had to keep how betrayed she felt to herself as she played the role of the dutiful, mournful girlfriend at his funeral. After that, everything came tumbling down around her and she was thrown back into reality.

"I told him.. told him that I wanted to end it all and he didn't care. Didn't even try to talk to me about it. Tony was the only family I've ever known and Nat was my best friend and he-he should've been there for me and he wasn't. He didn't care because he was already going to be gone. Another dead Stark didn't matter to him." Y/N turns her head and narrows her eyes at them, "That's why you two came here, isn't it? To make sure I didn't off myself?"

"We wanted to make sure you're safe-" Bucky starts, but Y/N quickly cuts him off with another bitter laugh. The super soldier glances at Sam, not knowing what to do in this situation.

"You wanted to? Don't bullshit me. You guys didn't move in with me or come to check on me because you two actually care about me. You two promised Steve that you'd watch over me, like I'm a fucking helpless child." Y/N snaps, glaring daggers at the two of them, "If he cared that much, he'd fucking be here, but he isn't. Steve made his choice and because of that, he doesn't get to have a say in my life anymore."

"Okay fine, we won't bullshit you. Yeah, he did ask us to take care of you, but you act like we weren't friends five years ago, Y/N. I have no idea what you're going through, but don't you dare act like I don't fucking care about you." Sam fires back, tears filling his eyes. More tears stream down her face as he continues, "Before the snap, you and me were thick as thieves. I care about you, Y/N, and you've had Pepper, Rhodey, and me all worried sick. Yeah, we were scared that you'd hurt yourself because we know you and I know how bad you got when we were in hiding, so we have every right to be worried about you."

It's incredibly quiet, quiet enough to hear a mouse sneeze. Bucky felt incredibly awkward standing there. He had only met Y/N a few times before he moved into her home and every time he had been around her, Steve was there. Obviously, he doesn't know Y/N as good as Sam does-hell, he barely knows anything about her-but he knows when someone is doing bad and Y/N is clearly doing bad.

Y/N leans her head forehead, pressing it against her knees for a moment. Her chest felt hollow, almost as if it was going to cave in on itself. She would love to pretend that she was doing completely okay, love to pretend that Sam and her family were wrong in their assumptions of why she had disappeared. Y/N would love to pretend like everything was okay, but she was tired.  She was incredibly tired, utterly exhausted. Y/N was done trying to pretend like nothing was wrong, done hiding everything in order to keep up appearances for the people around her. She let a shakily breath slip out of her mouth as she lifts up her head, resting her chin on her knees. As if he could feel the energy in the room shift, Sam turns to look at Bucky, silently asking if he could leave. The super soldier nods and without a word, he walks out the front door, shutting it behind him. Sam knows Y/N and he knows for times like this, she doesn't need an audience. Its already extremely hard for her to share what she is feeling and having Bucky there isn't exactly helping.

"I can't do this anymore, Sam. I can't." Y/N admits quietly once the door is shut, tears steaming down her cheeks. "I tried to stick it out for Pepper and Morgan, but I can't. I-I was going to do it. I had a goodbye message recorded and everything."

Her confession sucks all of the air out of the room, the only noises being her sniffling and the sounds a house as old as this one makes. Sam can feel his heart breaking in his chest makes his way over to her, crossing the room in seconds. He moves to sit on the edge of the nook she's sitting on. Up close, Sam can see how red her eyes are, how dark her under eyes are. He knows she most likely hasn't gotten any actual rest in few days-most likely since she's been gone. Her legs and arms are all cut up and bruised, her white dress covered in dirt and occasionally some sprinkles of deep burgundy. Her cheeks seemed a little less full and Sam wonders when was the last time she ate was.

"And you wanted to do it here?" Sam asks, his voice soft. Y/N just nods in response, unable to look at him. The man clasps his hands together as he continues, treading the waters as carefully as possible, "I-I'm not going to pretend to understand what you're going through okay? I'm not going to bullshit you. All I know is that you're hurting and you have every right to be."

"It just hurts so much, Sam. Everything hurts and I-I don't want to hurt anymore." Y/N manages to get out, not bothering to wipe the tears that keep rolling down her cheeks, "I'm tired. I'm so God damn tired and I want to be with them."

"Do you think that's what Tony wants? Do you think he wants you to join him? Do you think that's what Nat wants you to do?" Sam questions delicately, to which Y/N shakes her 'no' in response, "I know it hurts, but ending it? They don't want that for you. We don't want that for you. You still have so much life to live, kid. And I know it's horrible right now. You're going through pain that is way too much for one person to carry, but you don't have to go through this alone. Sure I'm not Nat or your brother and I'm sure as hell not Steve-but I am here and I want to make sure you're okay."

Y/N raises her head to look at her friend and Sam can see the hurt written all over her face. Her pain is visible and he feels like a shitty friend for not noticing it beforehand. Sam carefully reaches out and rests his hand on top of hers, a tear slipping out of his eyes.

"Just come back with us, okay? It's not going to be easy and it's going to suck, but I can't bury another friend, Y/N." Sam's voice cracks, his throat constricting with emotion. It takes her moment-and for that moment Sam is absolutely petrified, wondering if he said all the wrong things, wondering if he made it all worse-but then she nods the world's tiniest nod before breaking out into full on sobs. It was like all of the pain and hurt had finally broken through and she was finally reacting to it all. Sam wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her against his chest as she cried and cried over the family she lost.

#steve rogers x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes

[thechangeling]

She burns like rum on a fire

Why did I do this to myself ughhhhh?

So @adoravel-fenomeno and I were talking about Kit potentially getting into an abusive relationship given that he's statistically likely too given his roots. So now I give you this fic! Sorry. Kit is using he/him in this fic because he hasn't really gone on his gender quest yet.

The title is from Cherry Wine by Hozier. I reccomend you listen to Cherry Wine and Trauma by NF while reading this.

Cw: Mentions of physical and verbal abuse, abusive, controlling behavior, negative self talk and extreme denial. Also brief mention of blood.

2013

Don't cry.

Don't cry Kit told himself over and over inside his head as he tried to get a hold of his breathing. As he lay on his bed at 2 in the morning, desperately refreshing his conversation with Autumn.

Autumn or as his best friend Janessa liked to call her "the virus" was Kit's girlfriend. His very first. A mundane with the sight. They had been dating for a few months now. When they had first gotten together everything was amazing, it so it seemed.

They had some much in common and they had fun together. Autumn was hot, funny and charasmatic. She had this way of making him feel like the only person in the room. She showered him with gifts and complements that made Kit finally feel worthy for the first time in his life.

But as time went on things shifted. Autumn insisted on spending almost ever waking second with him. Kit didn't mind at first, he loved hanging out with her. But he missed his parents and his sister, and he knew they missed him too. Whenever they had family movie night, or they wanted Kit to watch Mina, Autumn threw a fit. She insisted that he was ignoring her.

She didn't want him seeing Janessa either, or Nessie as Kit called her for short. Autumn always insisted that she was plotting to steal Kit away from her, which was ridiculous but nothing could change Autumn's mind when she was in a mood. So Kit had found himself blowing Nessie off to hang out with Autumn and making excuses for it.

Kit always felt super guilty for making Autumn so upset. He tried to get out of his agreements if it to stop her from crying but sometimes Tessa and Jem wouldn't let him. It was frustrating when they didn't understand. She would rage for awhile, calling Kit stupid and worthless. Sometimes she would make comments about him being adopted, telling him that Tessa and Jem didn't really love him and they only saw him as a free babysitter for their real child.

She would make jokes about all kinds of things. How Kit wasn't a real shadowhunter, his weight, his past, his bisexuality, his ADHD. Kit knew that Autimn didn't really mean anything by it. It was nothing personal and she didn't really mean it. She loved him. And he loved her.

Tonight had been different though. His grades had taken a turn for the worst because he had been blowing of the tutoring sessions the school had payed for as a part of his accommodations. Because he had been spending that time with Autumn. Kit knew it was a bad idea to miss those, but his girlfriend needed him. She didn't have anybody else. She couldn't count on her parents like he could, and she didn't really have any friends.

But Kit was in big trouble. Tessa and Jem were mad. The school was mad. People were saying that Kit was ungrateful.

Ah yes because every disabled person should just bend down and kiss the feet of every person that deigns to give them what they're legally entitled to.

But Kit knew that he had really screwed up this time. He tried to explain to Autumn that he couldn't see her as often as he used to anymore because he needed to fix his grades. And she absolutely lost it. Which he had been expecting.

However what Kit hadn't been expecting this time was for her to hit him.

And she hit him hard. Punched him straight in the nose. And sure it wasn't that big of a deal. Kit was a shadowhunter and he was pretty much used to being hit. But he hadn't been expecting it.

And there was just so much blood.

Autumn of course instantly apologized profusely. She kissed him over and over and told him that she loved him and she didn't mean to. And Kit knew she was telling the truth but-

But he still felt a sinking feeling in his chest that he couldn't explain.

But Kit had applied an iratze, wiped off the blood, and now everything was as good as new. When he had arrived back home, his parents had noticed anything or asked him any questions.

Now he was lying awake at 2 in the morning, filled with guilt and worry as he waited for Autumn to text him back. He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously as he tried not to over think things.

Maybe she was still mad at him? Was there something else Kit was supposed to say or do? Or maybe he should just leave her alone for awhile?

It was maddening.

Kit turned off his phone and threw it down in frustration, pulling his giant red and black flannel over his shoulders and curling in on himself. He felt strangely exhausted, but unable to sleep. His nose and left eye socket still throbbed a little despite the fact that they should be healed.

Kit thought about using another iratze but his steele was across the room and he couldn't bring himself to stand up to go get it.

God he really was pathetic. Maybe he deserved this. Tears welled up in Kit's eyes.

Don't cry. Don't cry.

This time Kit couldn't hold it back. So he let himself cry. Tears came streaming down his cheeks as he tried to muffle his sobs with his hand. Deep down he knew it was his fault. It was always his fault.

But with Autumn he had really tried. Sure he wasn't perfect but Kit really cared about her. And it wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough.

Kit couldn't help but think of the last time he felt like this. The last time he was rejected. He had been careful about trying to keep all thoughts of Ty Blackthorn out of his head for awhile. Autumn was a good distraction, even when she was screaming obscenities at him. It was still a distraction.

Kit closed his eyes and conjured the memory of holding Ty up on the roof. If he squeezed his eyes tightly enough, Kit could still feel the softness of his hoodie and the slight tickle of Ty's dark hair against his skin. He could conjure the smell of Ty's skin and the way he had trembled slightly against Kit's body.

I should have kissed him. Kit mused, hugging himself tightly. Just once. Even if Ty had pushed him away in disgust, it would have been worth it. Just to know what it felt like.

Suddenly from the bottom of the bed, Kit's phone lit up with a call. He scrambled to grab it, thinking it was Autumn, but it was actually Janessa. Kit cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound normal as he answered the phone.

"Why are you calling me at 2 am Nessie?"

"The better question is why are you still awake at 2 am," she pointed out, sounding smug. "I'm a vampire. Creature of the night remember? It's kinda prime time for me Kit Kat."

Kit smiled as he felt the previous angst wash away. "Yeah fair enough. But still, why are you calling me?"

Kit heard her sigh into the phone. "Well honestly because this is probably the only time you're free now a days," she said spitefully. "You know thanks to she-who-must-not-be-named." Kit rolled his eyes.

"That's my girlfriend you're talking about, Janessa!" He snapped.

"Well your girlfriend's a total bitch!"

Normally Kit would argue with her and tell her that she was way off base. That Autumn wasn't so bad and that she was trying. That she loved him. But today he just couldn't.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "We got into another fight tonight," he admitted. "Just a few hours ago actually."

"I'm sorry love," Janessa murmed. Nessie wasn't British. She was actually Canadian. But she had moved around the world with her previous band before settling in Devon and leaving them to go solo. She had picked up on some British expressions though.

"I wish you weren't going through this. But Kit, you gotta break up with her! She's bad news!"

Kit rested his face against the palm of his left hand. "I can't," he groaned.

Janessa let out a frustrated yell on the other end of the phone. "What the hell are you planning on doing Kit!? I mean are you just gonna wait into she hits you or what?" She spat.

"She already did," Kit responded instantly without missing a beat.

He gasped and slapped a hand to cover his mouth. Kit had no idea why he actually told her. Impulsivity maybe? Or maybe he just needed to get it out. But he instantly regretted it.

There was a long uncomfortable silence on the other end of the phone. Kit was just about to ask Janessa where she went when suddenly she spoke.

"I'm coming over."

Kit tried to protest but she hung up on him.

Before he had time to panic or scream or throw something, there was an aggressive tapping on his window. Of course. Janessa had vampire speed. He looked up to see Nessie perched on his windowsill looking solem.

Her long black curly hair was pulled into a high ponytail and she wore what by her standards was probably a casual outfit. A black long sleeved low cut crop top and white ripped skinny jeans tucked into thigh high heeled leather boots. And of course, she wore a full face of makeup. Even after the facial feminization surgery she was still a little insecure about going out without makeup on.

Nessie banged on his window again, more impatiently and Kit jumped up to let her in. She landed on his bedroom floor with the grace of a cat, making no sound. She stared at him silently with an expression that Kit found hard to decipher.

"Show me where," she whispered in that deep raspy voice of hers. She reached for his face and Kit let Janessa cradle his face with her hands and tried not to wince as her cold skin came into contact with his.

He shook his head. "No you won't see it, I put an iratze on it already. It's done." Janessa scoffed and stepped back.

"You know the damage isn't just skin deep Kit," she said pointedly. "No matter how much you want to pretend it is."

He glared at her. "Wow that's so insightful Nessie!," he said sarcastically. "What else you got?"

"Oh come on Kit you know I'm right," She hissed. "You have to end it!"

Kit shook his head. Why does she keep saying that?

"No. Why should I?" Kit retorted. "She loves me." He tried to sound as confident as he could, but truthfully he wasn't so sure anymore.

Autumn had gone above and beyond to make Kit feel loved and appreciated yo the point where she was almost obsessive. But she could also be cruel and spiteful. Kit had convinced himself that he should be happy with what he had because it was as good as he was gonna get.

And the sad part was that was still true.

"No she doesn't," Janessa breathed desperately. To Kit's horror, it looked like she was about to cry. Kit couldn't remember if he had ever seen her cry. Not once.

"Somebody who really loved you could never hurt you like that!" She protested shakily, her voice warbled as tears spilled down her face.

Kit could feel his tears returning at the sight of Nessie crying. He rushed towards her and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. In the comfort of his best friend's embeace he allowed himself to finally sob. He cried for that broken niave part of himself that kept getting hurt.

She rested her chin on the top of his head, (she was taller then him,) and held him close. "Please promise me you will break up with her," Janessa begged.

"I just don't get it," Kit whispered against her skin. "I did everything right. I did everything I could." He blinked back tears. "Why doesn't she love me Nessie?"

He felt her shake against him. "I don't know Kit," she sobbed. "But I love you ok? I love you and your parents love you, and Mina loves you so much!"

Kit sighed, pulling back to wipe his tears. "I know, but what if I, you know-. What if I never find someone? Like romantically?"

Janessa studied him, raising her eyebrow. "Well do you need to find someone? Who is this arbitrary someone who can give you something a friendship can't?"

That's actually a good point.

"I mean," Nessie continued, crossing her arms and shifting her weight. "If you do end up in a relationship then cool, it's whatever. But the way I see it is you shouldn't focus all of your energy on looking because you're gonna end up missing out on some pretty cool stuff in the mean time." She smiled.

Kit thought about it. He knew logically Janessa had a point. But he just couldn't feel it. He was too depressed and defeated. And as ashamed as it made him, Kit still missed Autumn. He tried to smile along with Nessie but it must have looked weak because she looked concerned.

"Hey," she cooed, reaching for him.

"Can you sing to me Nessie?" He asked. Kit  felt a little pathetic but hopefully she wouldn't judge him.

She smiled lovingly at him. "Sure." Janessa took his hand and led him to his bed.

"Any requests?" She asked as she pulled off her boots and lay down on Kit's bed. He followed her, snuggling up against Nessie with his back to her.

"No not really," he murmered, closing his eyes. Kit was finally starting to feel how exhausted he really was.

Janessa wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, resting her head slightly against his shoulder. "Ok," she whispered very softly.

Kit heard her clear her throat softly before the sound of her breathy angelic alto filled his ears.

"I'm turning out the lights, to remember how to see. Till the renaissance takes place, Until a renaissance takes place, and resuscitates the color of paint and divinity."

Kit smiled sleepily at the sound of his enneagram song, something Janessa had introduced him to.

He yawned and let the sound of Nessie's voice lull him to sleep, putting all thoughts of Autumn behind him.

In my head Kit is like 5'4 and Janessa is 5'9. Originally I had her at 5'11 but I wanted her to be closer in height to Kit. Also did I name Kit's abusive girlfriend Autumn after my toxic controlling ex best friend? You bet I did!

Tag list: (you know the deal) @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies   @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @hardlymatters @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @adoravel-fenomeno

#tsc #tda #twp #the dark artifices #kit herondale #fae's oc #the wicked powers #janessa williams #platonic soulmates for the win

[voiceless-terror]

In which Martin and Gerry help Jon acquire a cat, among other things. 

“Martin, look!”

A phone is shoved in his face; on the screen is a tiny black kitten sprawled on a carpet with the headline “Free to a Good Home!!” Martin knows where this is going.

“Finally time to bite the bullet, eh?”

“We could surprise him!” Gerry’s voice is animated as he waves his phone in the air. Martin loves when he gets like this, unguarded and sweet. “You know how stressed he’s been. Honestly, I’m shocked we haven’t gotten one already.”

“Well, he’s certainly been hinting at it.” Martin gestures broadly at the walls of the bookstore, decorated with various cozy knick knacks and art they’ve picked up at charity shops. There’s no less than three oddly majestic cat paintings along with a shelf of tiny porcelain felines, not to mention the gaudy clock that has cat breeds instead of numbers. Jon has...particular taste. “Not very subtle, is he?”

“Should I message them, then?” Gerry squints at the screen. “We met them at trivia a few months ago - Mara, the one with the-”

“Green hair, yeah.” Martin remembers the night rather fondly. Gerry usually spent most trivia nights scowling in the corner and making snarky commentary with Jon, but on that particular occasion he had a few drinks and was considerably more relaxed. He managed to charm half of the bar with his stories and wit while Jon stared on, adoration clear on his face.  “But you know Jon would kill us if we didn’t let him have a say. You know how he gets, he needs to prepare-”

“-buy ninety toys-”

“-think up a ridiculous name.” They both laugh at that- Jon’s got a penchant for renaming their friend’s pets when he doesn’t think their moniker “suits them.” He’s gotten into more than one fight about it. “Text him so he doesn’t stay late, though. I’m not staying up until midnight again.”

“On it.”

_______

They hear Jon before they see him. 

The door creaks open, alerting them to his presence as Jon lets out his usual long-suffering sigh (Gerry fondly calls this mood ‘The Bouchard Blues.’) His clothes are wrinkled and his eyes are barely open; from the slight indent on his face, Martin reckons he fell asleep at his desk again. Gerry meets him at the door, grabbing his bag and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Rough day, love?”

Another sigh, this one a bit more huffy. “Elias came in at half past four with a box of ninety random documents and wanted them all organized by tomorrow. Impossible, of course, unless I stay the night-”

“But you came home!” Gerry says it with a sort of wonder in his voice; Jon very rarely stands up to his boss, no matter how ridiculous the ask. 

“W-Well, you said it was important,” Jon looks between them with large, worried eyes. Always assuming the worst. “It’s nothing bad, is it?”

“Jon, I thought the twelve reassuring texts and afternoon phone call put that to rest,” Gerry replies as he steers them towards the couch. “Suppose I should’ve just told you. I wanted it to be a surprise.” He unlocks his phone and scrolls until he finds the ad, handing it over to Jon.

His eyes immediately light up, alert and awake. “Cat!”

“Cat,” Martin agrees, settling down beside them. “We were thinking of getting one for the bookstore-”

“Of course,” Jon’s smiling that rare, bright grin and Martin melts just a little. “It’s only logical. And I do like black cats-”

“Damn it!” Gerry groans, startling them both. He throws his phone down on the couch, crossing his arms in a sulk. “Someone just claimed her. I knew I should’ve said something-”

But Jon’s already fishing his phone out, his smile not dimming in the slightest. “There’s a shelter not too far from here- I’ll see if we have to make an appointment. Martin, can you call Georgie? She’s got an excellent carrier for the Admiral, and she can probably recommend other necessities-”

They end up going to bed at midnight anyway.

________

“I still don’t see why we had to order so much,” Martin complains after another confirmation email lights up his phone. The credit card bill’s going to be astronomical this month. “Surely we’re overpreparing. We don’t have room for the deluxe cat tower in the shop, and we certainly don’t need one for the flat as well.”

“I assure you these are all necessities, Martin.” Gerry and Martin are both fairly tall, but even they have trouble keeping up with Jon’s brisk pace, sharing a fond look over his head. Jon managed to find them a Saturday appointment with a rather impressive combination of wheedling and charm. When it came to cats, Jon didn’t pull his punches. They made it to the shelter in record time and Jon burst through the doors, his next words full of self-importance. “We’re expected. Jonathan Sims.”

They’re led back to a large room by an amused assistant, Jon at the front of their little line. Martin watches as his eyes light up upon seeing the many cages that lined the wall; even Gerry seems a bit excited, though he tries to hide it by hanging back. Gerry’s never been much of an animal person; he shares Jon’s distaste of loud and jumpy dogs too unpredictable in their behavior. He only just started getting used to the Admiral, and that was through much prodding on Jon’s part. Jon’s love is surprisingly infectious. 

Jon peers into each cage intently, answering every inquisitive noise with a prim “Pleased to meet you.” One of the first cages contains a fluffy brown cat with curious eyes and Martin stops to poke a finger through the door. “Walnut” (as provided by a helpful nameplate) does not respond, though she seems interested. 

Jon’s already halfway down the row before he stops in his tracks, eyes trained on a large, grumpy ball of gray fur sitting right at the bars of the cage. He’s missing an eye, and he begins to growl as soon as Jon nears him.

“This one.” He declares, staring as if entranced. He hasn’t even touched it or attempted to pet it- they’re locked in some sort of silent standoff. Martin’s reminded of those romantic comedies Jon and Gerry hate, where couples lock eyes across the room and it's love at first sight. He surreptitiously takes a picture. Adorable. 

“Jimmy?” The assistant inquires. Jon scoffs at the plainness of the name. “He’s been here awhile. Not very friendly, I’m afraid.”

“No, not Jimmy.” Jon offers up a hand, and the cat comes closer, sniffing at it with suspicion. After a few moments, he butts his head against Jon’s hand, earning a smile. “Lance Corporal.”

“No.”

Jon swivels around, eyes narrowing at Gerry’s words. It’s the first time he’s spoken and he’s got one eyebrow quirked up in amusement. It’s a good look on him. Jon, however, is having none of it and he puts a hand to his hip. “And why not?”

“It’s such a mouthful.” Martin has to agree; it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. “I’m not going to call him that. What about Lance?”

Jon wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”

Martin sighs; Gerry and Jon get along like a house on fire but when they bicker, they bicker. He eyes the cat that’s now rubbing against Jon’s hand and purring; he hopes the its sudden geniality will extend to Martin and Gerry. Jon would pick a cat that’s just as prickly as he can be.

Martin gives it a good look, coming up beside Jon at ‘Jimmy’s’ cage. The cat immediately stops its gravely purr, it’s eye now trained on Martin. It’s unnerving, Martin never thought a cat could radiate authority but this one surely managed to. If any animal deserves a title, it’s this one.  “What about the Captain?” he asks in a fit of inspiration.

They both turn to look at him; Gerry amused, Jon thoughtful. “Go on.”

“It’s a title, you always liked the naval ones.” Jon nods in agreement, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “He looks like an old sailor, very distinguished. I dunno, I think it’s cute.”

“The Captain,” Jon whispers in awe as the cat resumes rubbing against his hand. “Martin, that’s perfect. Inspired, even.”

He can’t help preening a bit. “Thank you.” Gerry rolls his eyes.

And then there’s the moment of truth- the assistant opens the cage door and Jon steps forward with all the solemnity of a man about to be knighted. He reaches out his arms and the cat lets itself be picked up, going limp as Jon brings it to his chest. He sighs in contentment, giving himself one more moment of bliss before he perks up and opens his eyes.

“Now pick yours.”

_________

Three. They’ve got three fucking cats.

Martin and Gerry immediately began to refuse, but Jon was insistent. “The Captain is obviously very partial to me, and I think you should have some say in who we adopt. If we each get one it eliminates any favoritism. It’s only logical.”

There was nothing logical about it. Three cats and three people in their tiny flat, or worse, destroying their bookstore. They didn’t have the space, the cats might not get along, it would be too expensive. But Jon wouldn’t hear of it, countering every point in a calmness that was borderline unnerving. Martin shot Gerry a pleading look; he’d gone silent after the initial refusal, content to let Martin do most of the arguing, but he just shook his head in amusement- he knew how this would end, and Martin did too. As the final nail in the coffin, Jon deployed the eyes and that’s how he found himself in the front of a taxi with a lapful of Walnut. She’s a friendly thing, instantly purring on contact and meowing whenever he turned away. Martin hadn’t the heart to turn it away.

Gerry took more time. He slunk around the cages and the cats seemed to sense his reluctance. But soon he came upon a small, sleek black cat, not unlike the one from the Facebook post. It was a tentative thing, barely coming to the edge of its cage to sniff at his fingers, but Gerry was determined, patiently waiting the fifteen minutes it took to get him to warm up. Martin didn’t point out the similarities between it and a certain goth, though he shared a knowing look with Jon.

“I’ve got it - the Unfathomable Void.”

“Dear God,” Martin muttered, rolling his eyes. So dramatic, the both of them.

Jon snorted. “That’s a bit much.”

“Okay, Lance Corporal.”

“Excuse me-!”

“Settle down, boys,” Martin put a hand on Jon’s shoulder, he looked liable to pounce. “If that’s what you want, go for it. But we’ll call him Void for short.” Gerry nodded, seemingly satisfied. Jon continued to scowl, though without any heat.

The cabbie was definitely not pleased at having to cart around three men and three cats. He muttered the entire drive while Jon bounced in the backseat, cooing at his companion. Gerry sat much more stoically, though Martin didn’t miss the tiny smile as the cat nipped at his fingers. Jon’s insistence on multiple supplies was starting to make sense now. He definitely planned this from the beginning, sneaky thing.

“Oh no,” Jon suddenly said upon entering their flat, struggling with the carrier in his hand.  Martin’s starting to think he shouldn’t have picked such a massive cat. “I forgot this was for the bookstore!” 

“Well, yeah.” Gerry sat his cage on the ground, kneeling down beside it. “I figured mine or Martin’s would do. The Captain’s not very friendly, Jon.”

“But what if they get lonely? We can’t split them up.” Jon’s eyes dart around the room, growing more conflicted by the second. “Perhaps we should keep them all at home.”

“There’s no room, Jon! And no one’s here during the day.” Martin surveys the room- the three carriers already seem to take up an enormous amount of space, not to mention the living creatures inside of them.  And all of those packages, that damn tower…

“You can take them back and forth. Commute.”

“Christ, we did not think this through.” Gerry’s smiling even as he says it, watching as the Unfathomable Void slowly makes his way out, sniffing tentatively at the air. Walnut’s content to stay in her cage, and Martin tucks her in a corner away from the other two. Jon’s already got the Captain out, holding him in his arms and refusing to let him go.

“You’re right, we didn’t.” Jon agrees, tucking his face in the Captain’s fur. “We should’ve gotten four-”

“Fuck’s sake, Jon!”

“Let’s talk about this later, alright?” Gerry takes Martin’s place as the voice of reason, a rare occurrence. “We’ll keep them at home, let them get used to us, and then we’ll figure out the bookstore situation. No sense getting worked up about it now.” Jon sighs, cradling the mass of fur to his chest and plopping down on the couch. Martin’s sure they’ll be at it again tomorrow; Jon sniping as Martin tries and fails to put together a massive cat tower, Gerry groaning about whatever surprises the cats left for them in the morning. The next few weeks were going to be stressful, to say the least.

For now, though, he sits with his partners once again until midnight, watching their new additions roam about the flat and ignore each other. Jon frets, Gerry sighs, and Martin unsuccessfully attempts to steer the conversation towards anything but cats. By the end of the night, only Void manages to feel at home, curling up in Martin’s favorite armchair (much to his chagrin). Could’ve gone worse, Martin cheers himself with. They’ll get used to the flat. And the bookstore. Probably.

Later that night, once their partner’s asleep and snoring softly between the two of them, Martin turns to Gerry, borrowing Jon’s patented sigh. 

“We’re gonna get a fourth cat, aren’t we?”

Gerry’s voice is just as resigned. “Yeah, reckon so.”

“Christ.”

-------

Others in the JGM series:

What We’re Given and What We Make

At the End of the Day

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28945809

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #jonmartin #jongerry #gerrymartin #christ this is a lot of tags #pointless fluff honestly #but fun #when i picture jon's smile in this fic its messisauce's art tbh #you know the one

[inactiveanimeblog]

shikamaru x reader fic

“change” chapter one

tw : smoking, alcohol

brooo i’m honestly so sorry this took forever but dont worry next chapters won’t take as long at all, i already have them planned out. and just a heads up there will be smut in this story, not this chapter but possibly chapter three.

eh i don’t really like the way this chapter came out but i can promise better in the future ones.

warnings: for now just alcohol, weed, and swearing

shikamaru and you had been best friends for as long as you both could remember. since you both had grown up together, through your parents being close friends, you and him were inseparable. you spent most of your childhood being around each other. but once you guys hit 16 years old things started to be different.

shikamaru started to drink, smoke, get tattoos, and flunk school. it was a miricale that he even graduated high school thanks to you tutoring him and completing his homework assignments. you on the other hand were a straight A student, a teachers pet, a quiet kid who didn’t party or do anything most teenagers around you were doing. you wanted to, but you were anxious and even a little scared that you werent ‘enough’ to be friends with others who were out having good times and enjoying their teen years. you were timid, you couldn’t be outgoing to save your life, so you watched from the sidelines.

once you graduated high school you traveled to another part of japan for eleven months to find yourself, learn to break out of your shell, and to switch up your style leaning more towards looking sexier and attractive. which meant leaving shikamaru behind to say goodbye for the time being. neither of you really talked when you left, in fact, you guys didn’t talk at all. you had missed him more than anything while he was well, being him. shikamaru messed around with girls, making them feel special, having sex with them, but he never put a label on their ‘relationship’. he would end things when he would get bored and find a new pretty girl to fuck, which left all the other girls broken hearted. you envied any girl he was involved with in a sexual way, you wanted him more than anything but you never told him. hell no. you could never tell him. he would never feel the same as you feel. there was no changing the way shikamaru was. he would never love and you knew that.

you came back to konaha a couple of weeks ago, settling into your new place, a nice little apartment, decorated in a modern manor, as well as starting to make friends in town through social media, slowly starting to go to parties and going out to clubs. you changed your look, dying your hair, getting a new piercing, switching up your style to something different, something new. you felt a lot better about yourself and you wondered if shikamaru would be interested in the way you looked. you weren’t confident, but the attention you’ve been getting from others lately hasn’t gone unnoticed.

hey shikamaru, i came back to konoha a few weeks ago finally! sorry i haven’t told you yet i’ve just been busy moving into my new place and stuff. we should hangout or something, it’s been so long since we seen eachother. you sent him a text, hoping that he would text you back wanting to make plans.

yeah we can link. i’m busy tonight but if you’re free tomorrow you can come by my place around 18:30 and we can catch up. you won’t be able to stay for long though.. maybe an hour at most. just lmk when you’re on the way. it took him a little while but he answered.

okay, that’s fine i have plans a little while afterwards so i won’t be able to stay long anyways. i’ll see you tomorrow and i’ll let you know when i’m on the way.

you were so excited to see him, butterflies already forming in the pit your stomach. you planned out a fit, the way you wanted your hair, and makeup. this was the time you and shikamaru would be able to catch up and maybe even become close friends again.

unfortunately shikamaru wasn’t too excited to see you. you guys haven’t talked in a long time and he saw no point or benefit to your friendship. he’s made a lot of new friends, other friends who are interested in the things he is and he’s been busy fucking new girls all the time. he thought it was such a drag that you wanted to hangout, and truth be told he wasn’t even gonna be busy tomorrow. he just didn’t want to waste his night hanging around you.

_______________________________________________

the next day you woke up around 11:30 am, starting off with eating a light breakfast, showering, shaving, and skin care. getting ready and facetiming your friend mikasa (hehe aot name but i love her name) to talk about how excited you were for first off going to see shikamaru for a little bit and second off going to a house party later that you guys were invited to.

“i’m so nervous ‘kasa, like what if he doesn’t like the way i look? or what if he thinks i’m weird now?” you sighed, brushing your fingers through your hair, checking yourself out in the mirror.

“it’ll be fine y/n! just try your best not to show your nervous. act like he isn’t intimidating at all. you look hot, nothing to be scared of.” she responded

“hm, you think so? are you sure i should wear this? i don’t wanna look like a try hard..”

“you don’t look like a try hard just mention to him that you’re hitting a party later he’ll get why you’re in a cute ass outfit. now go to his house, it’s already 18:07, don’t keep him waiting. he said he didn’t have much time anyways.”

“alright i’ll see you later tonight then.. wish me luck, i’ll let you know what happens. bye.”

“good luck and bye bitch! don’t have too much fun!” she answered while wiggling her eyebrows and hanging up the phone.

you texted shikamaru that you were on your way, he responded shortly saying to just knock when you got there.

third person point of view

“yo kiba, i have a girl coming over today.. she’s just an old friend. she’s shy so try not to scare her off. don’t smoke out in the living room while she’s here. i don’t need her getting uncomfortable. it’ll be such a drag listening to her get upset about the smoke.”

“say less, but is she hot? if she’s just an old friend let me make a move on her.” kiba answered hopping on the couch next to shikamaru.

“no. she’s not cute and you wouldn’t want her anywa-“ shikamaru was cut off by a light knock on the apartment door.

“can you go invite her in for me?”

“do you ever get off your lazy ass? whatever fine.” kiba said while getting up off the couch and walking towards the door.

kiba opened the door and didn’t say anything, he just stared down at y/n who looked back up at him confused clearly expecting shikamaru to answer. ‘not cute?’ kiba thought. ‘is shikamaru out of his MIND??’ surely this couldn’t be the girl shikamaru was talking about, shikamaru would have to be an idiot to not find her attractive. she was dressed in a sexy yet subtle outfit. she smelt nice and her hair looked so soft, her skin was like porcelain, delicate and smooth.

“uhh i’m sorry, who are you?” kiba asked

“oh- i umm, i’m y/n nice to meet you. i’m here to see shikamaru.. i’m at the right apartment, right?” shikamaru tried to look over at y/n but he couldn’t see much with kiba standing in front of the door. he looked back down at his phone and rolled his eyes.

“well? are you gonna let her in? i just told you i had company coming over two minutes ago. how burnt out are you?”

“oh right um come in, i’m kiba, shikamaru’s roommate by the way. make yourself at home.. shikamaru’s on the couch.” kiba stuttered out scratching the back of his neck and moving out of the way so y/n could entered.

“wow shikamaru your place looks nice. is it just you and your roommate living here?” y/n said.

shikamaru looked up from his phone to see her staring around the room and his first thought was ??? what the fuck ?

“y/n?” shikamaru said. he stared at her as she sat on the other couch, his eyes focused on her appearance.

“yeah?” y/n answered smiling back at him.

“nothing i just— you just look really different since i last seen you last. what have you been up to?” he asked still eyeing her up and down, blushing slightly. he felt a little weird, he wasn’t expecting his nerdy childhood best friend to look so good.

“i’ve been busy honestly, i finally moved into my new place and i’ve been going out with friends, it feels nice to finally be back home although i do miss traveling.” friends.. she has other friends now?

“what about you? what have you been up to?” she said still smiling, she looked beautiful, like she’s grown up.. grown into a women’s body, she’d grown into her face as well, no longer looking so babyish. her outfit was nice, showing some skin leaving little to the imagination. this was nothing like her.

“nothing really, just be doing the same old things.... you made some friends when you came back to konoha?”

“yeah i did, i made a few. you should meet them one day, we usually hit parties on the weekends or we’ll chill at one of our houses, drink and smoke or whatever. you would like them.” she exclaimed nodding her head slowly.

huh? wait she even drinks and smokes now? what happened to her? and what changed her when she left.. why was she so different now?

“you drink and smoke now? wow you really are different.”

“oh please” y/n giggled a bit. “i’m still the same old y/n, i’m no different only been living my life in other ways. i’ve been enjoying it ever since i left eleven months ago, you know? i’m having fun i guess.”

“well.. i honestly never expected the day where you would find drinking and smoking fun since you always used to scold me for it.” he said, rolling his eyes playfully, a grin forming on his lips.

“and by the way do you want something to drink, like a water or anything?”

“you know i was just inexpirienced back then shikamaru” she said placing her elbow on the couch arm rest, resting her cheek on her palm and she still had a cute small smile on her face.

“and i’m good, i’ll probably be leaving not too long from now anyways.”

“you in a rush?” shikamaru questioned, slightly raising one of his brows

“hm, kind of. i’m gonna go pregame at one of my friends houses tonight and get ready for a party.”

kiba walked in and sat next to her, he gave shikamaru a pointed look before butting in their conversation and replying “a party tonight huh? you gonna give us the invite?”

“well i mean if you guys wanna go it’s gonna be at 227 Clock Street, not far from here maybe a 15 minute drive. if they ask who you know just say you know me.” she said looking back at kiba “you shouldn’t have any problems. but also, i believe shikamaru said he was busy tonight. right shikamaru?”

“yeah.. well, i do have plans later. but i could just cancel them now, not really important anyways. i guess we could go out. do you think it’ll be a problem to bring others?”

“nope it shouldn’t be a problem at all. the more the merrier, and you and your friends will be able to meet mine tonight!” she said excitedly.

shikamaru excused himself to use the bathroom as kiba continued to talk to y/n and ask her about herself. it was so very obvious that kiba wanted to take her to his room and bend her over, but y/n being hella naive couldn’t tell.

shikamaru looked in the mirror while washing his hands. his eyebrows were scowled, and his eyes were dazed. never could he imagine something like this would happen where y/n would come out of her shell. where she would party. she was as sweet as ever still, she would always be a kind person. nothing could change that, but she wasn’t as quiet as she used to be. it was nice seeing her talk more, no longer stuttering out every other word.

‘if i bring my friends tonight and the rest meet her there’s no doubt she’ll be around more often. i already know they’re gonna be all over her, i’m just curious if she’s still innocent sex wise. last time i seen her she was definitely still a virgin. maybe i should ask her myself.’

#naruto headcanons #shikamaru nara #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru imagine #shikamaru nara x reader #naruto shippuden #naruto #naruto x reader #shikamaru imagines #shikamaru #shikamaru smut