#but this is a thing that's been bugging me and a friend recently. Her a lot longer. I think it's been bugging him for a while-

[propertyofwicked]

WAS IT REAL? - LN

lando is at risk of losing his job if he doesn't clean up his image, and his best friend needs a way of travelling the world. they come up with a flawless plan - which could not possibly go wrong, right?

based on this request! (i went a little overboard im sorry) ✧ my inbox is open! ✧

warnings - fluff, angst, small allusion to smut at the end - fake dating to lovers hehe. also, 5k words??? who am i?? (writen BEFORE the miami gp!! i needed a few days to recover lol)

the song inspo for this got removed from spotify but it is based on "was it real" by ben rodrigues <3

masterlist the playlist

✧ tell me was it real...

...or was it just pretend? ✧

“and now i’ve had zak sit me down and essentially said ‘we don’t hire slags’”

“he said that your recent behaviour was causing concern for mclarens image - not that you were a slag, lan.”

“same thing,” he argued, ”i’m 24 for gods sake, if i want to speak to women in a nightclub that shouldn’t be any of zak’s business.”

“i think it became his business when someone filmed you, in your mclaren, having what im sure was a lovely conversation with the girl sat on your lap,” she teased back, emphasising her words slightly. he huffed at, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back into her sofa.

lando had walked into her flat 20 minutes prior, as he had hundreds of times before, threw himself down on her sofa and launched into a long rant about the meeting he had just come from.

since he was at the woking offices, zak had taken the opportunity to discuss the several occasions in recent weeks where lando had been caught in predicaments with multiple different women. when he finally left, zak’s ultimatum ran through his brain on a loop as he drove to one of his closest friends houses.

“clean your image up, or we’ll have to reconsider the possibility of you having a seat next year.”

“it sucks, lan, but i really don’t know how i can help you here,” y/n told him, moving a stack of research notes to the table before sitting cross legged next to him so that her body faced his.

y/n l/n was a newly graduated environmental researcher, who was taking a year out to decide what kind of work she wanted to pursue. she needed to travel, see the world, and experience all elements in her field before she could make that decision - but travelling was expensive and she could not afford to be in anymore debt after university.

“i have an idea,” lando announced, the realisation of what he was about to propose never really settling.

“that’s never good,” she joked.

“no, no hear me out -” he started, “i need to look like a man in a stable relationship, you need to see the world.”

“yeah? so?” she questioned, confused as to where he was going with this.

“look, it’s ok if you say no. i’m just saying - you could pretend to be my girlfriend and use the opportunity to travel the world and research your little bugs.”

“i don’t know, that seems a bit…deceitful?” y/n replied, yet the idea mulled in her brain more than she wished.

“just a few public appearances. you come with me to my races and use it as a research opportunity. maybe stay in monaco with me for a bit? let people film us being domestic and that?” lando replied, stuttering as he tried to think of more reasons - truly, he had started talking before he’d really thought it through.

“it’s tempting,” she replied slowly, “and for the last time lando, i do not study bugs, i study the environments they live in.”

“all expenses paid, travelling the world, looking at trees across the world,” he added teasingly, “- and all you have to do is hold my hand in public,” he finished, trying to summarise the arrangement.

“ok.”

“ok?”

“yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”

✧ tell me all the places that you wanna see...

....i can take you all the places that you've never been ✧

the two of them fell easily into a natural act, almost gaining a sixth sense for cameras and fans and reaching for each other. it started small - a hand on her back, standing close to each other, being seen arriving and leaving together. but it hadn’t been enough, many pointing out that y/n had been at races and stayed with him in monaco multiple times, and concluding the two were still, just friends.

so they upped the ante. lando began holding her hand when they walked anywhere together, kissing her forehead lightly as they both pretended to be clueless to the snapping of cameras. at the last race, y/n had spotted a reporter and made a quick decision to tug at lando’s fireproof, pulling him down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“that’s new,” he had told her, laughing lightly, but keeping his hands firmly on her waist.

“camera,” she told him, smiling up at him as he nodded.

and lando kept up his end of the deal, the two of them using the week of the australian grand prix to visit the great barrier reef.

their plan was working - the two were elated that people were finally putting the pieces together and believing the two really were together. even zak began to notice the positive effect y/n had on not only his image, but lando’s entire life.

“say y/n,” zak started as he walked up to the woman, “you work in environmental protection, don’t you?”

“i guess you could say that,” she responded, too tired to correct him, and slightly startled that he’d approached her as she sat minding her own business in the garage before the race began.

“we’re doing some work with the barrier reef group and oscar in a few days - would you consider being a sort of environmental advisor? just tell oscar a few things that he could talk about for the project?” he asked her assertively, smiling as her eyes widened at the request.

“i’d love to! but im supposed to be flying back tomorrow. let me ask lando later and ill get back to you?” she replied.

“sure,” he replied, smiling at her again before returning to his job. she was filled with excitement, it wasn’t often that she got to talk about her degree, and being able to contribute to a project of this scale was an amazing opportunity.

and her excitement only continued throughout the race, a feeling she always got watching lando compete, but overwhelmed when he cross the line 3rd. y/n ran round to join the rest of the mclaren team at the pit lane, watching as the podium cars pulled in and the drivers hopping out to celebrate with their teams.

lando climbed out, removing his helmet quickly before turning, scanning the crowd for y/n, and half sprinting when he spotted her. later, he would celebrate with his team, but for now he ran to her, pulling her in closely as he pressed his lips hastily to hers, pulled in closer by her hands cupping his jaw. when they pulled away, he kept her close to his embrace.

“im so proud of you,” she told him, smiling as he bent down to kiss her again, before rushing off to join his team.

y/n tried so hard to push away the feeling rising in her stomach - she didn’t like him like that, it was just the excitement of watching her friend succeed. so she ignored it, the same way she pushed away the feeling she got every time he calls her angel, even when they were alone.

im only here so that he keeps his job she reminded herself.

lando was distracted - he got podium, he was excited, his team were celebrating. yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger to that feeling that shot through his veins when he’d kissed her. the same feeling he got every night, when she wrapped an arm tightly around his chest as they fell asleep.

she’s only here for research opportunities he told himself.

“im so proud of you,” y/n told him later that day as they left the track. wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in to a tight hug, his arms falling naturally to hold her waist close to him. lando risked everything in that moment, pulling slightly back to look at her, before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“camera,” he told her, feeling her hesitation. her smile fell slightly before she leaned up to kiss him again. of course - the cameras, that’s why he kissed me she thought to herself, saddened slightly at the realisation.

there was no camera. they were totally alone.

✧ colours of the sky in your eyes

...fragments of the truth in your lies ✧

lando felt alone, his apartment felt so empty without her. he was happy she had the opportunity to stay in australia and do what she loves, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the flames igniting inside of him when he saw the videos of her and oscar together. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, he just missed her. after spending the last few months in close proximity, it made sense that he missed smelling her perfume around, or hearing the way her voice travelled through his brain.

y/n had a calming effect on him, and right now, lando was anything but calm.

which is why he found himself going back to his old ways, in a club, surrounded by women he wouldn’t remember the next day. he was too gone to remember that people with cameras tend to follow him around, capturing his every move in 4k - and he was far too gone to realise that publicly he was in a relationship, a relationship that should not include him leaving a club with a blonde.

and of course, y/n had seen the images blasted over twitter, headlines titled “cheating scandal?” consuming her entire feed. it was hard to remind herself that this thing between her and lando was not real, it was all pretend. and no matter how many times she told herself that fact, y/n couldn’t help but feel jealousy consume her entire existence.

the flat had never felt so awkward than the week before their flight to japan for the next race. she had returned a few days after the incident, lando greeting her at the door with a tight hug and a kiss to her forehead, but something was off.

“you have fun?” he asked her offhandedly as they moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.

“i did,” she said with a smile, though her tone held malice, “did you?”

lando’s hands stopped opening the cap of the bottle as he breathed in sharply.

“the fuck does that mean?” he replied, his tone harsh in defence.

“i was just asking if you had a good time, lando,” y/n answered, “she looked pretty, your type.”

“nothing happened, y/n,” lando told her, his voice sounding almost guilty.

“it’s ok if something did happen - we aren’t actually together,” she assured him, even though she could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside her again, “can you just be more cautious next time? im not sure i enjoy being told i deserved to be cheated on every time i open twitter.”

“im sorry, y/n, i am. i dont know what i was thinking,” he apologised, his eyes still softening with his guilt.

“clearly not a lot,” she tutted, before moving to take her bags to her room.

the rest of the week followed a similar vibe - the two of them barely spoke if they didn’t have to, making a few affectionate public appearances to show the world that their relationship was as strong as ever… oh the irony y/n thought every time she saw something dismissing earlier lando’s actions. however, by the time they flew out to japan, the friendship between the two seemed to have recovered - lando had almost sighed in relief when he saw her smile at him again.

“where you off to today?” lando asked her, pacing around the hotel room as he packed his bag for the day.

“the marina,” she replied, smiling as she pulled her coat on, “looking at the fish.”

“gross.”

“what time is qualis?” y/n asked him, ignoring his statement.

“uhh…3 i think - but you should try and get there by 2?” he told her, glancing down at his phone to see the current time. lando strode over to her, cupping her face lightly as he pressed a quick kiss to her head - this was becoming second nature to him, and she wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“perfect!” she replied, trying to stop the nervous blush rising her face, ignoring the way her stomach flipped, “ill be there,” she added before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and leaving the room. the moment the door closed, lando’s hand raised to touch where she had kissed him, smiling fondly at the thought.

he was utterly and truly fucked. how had he let himself fall for her? how could he continue to pretend to love her, when he really did?

y/n spent the rest of the morning in a similar state of panic, mentally shutting down at the prospect of loving lando and knowing he’d never feel the same. she hadn’t even intended to leave him today, but found herself quickly googling anything for her to do the moment she woke up with his arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and his head resting on her back. y/n needed space, she knew she couldn’t keep up their little act when her heart was slowly shattering every time he kissed her for the cameras.

so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realise the time until it hit 2pm and she was stuck at the marina, desperately trying to find a taxi to get her to the track. and when she finally made it, y/n wish she hadn’t bothered.

lando was pacing angrily, talking under his breath as he checked his phone constantly - he only had 5 minutes before he needed to go down to the garage and get ready for qualifiers. the door slid open, and y/n walked through - ready to spurt out her apologies - but she stopped suddenly, sensing the anger looming in his room.

“where were you?” lando asked her, trying to keep himself calm, though the race nerves mixed with his temperament made that quite difficult.

“im sorry lan, i lost trac-”

“lost track of time? found something more interesting to do? save it, i don’t wanna hear your excuses,” he argued back, interrupting her with his ever loudening tone.

“you’d know all about ‘finding something more interesting’, wouldn’t you,” y/n replied, her own voice raising to meet his. if there’s one thing y/n will do, it’s stand up for herself, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him. dont kiss him, hit him she told herself.

“fuck you,” he spat, shoving past her to leave the room.

“at least im here!” she shouted back down the hallway, desperate for the last word

y/n stayed in the room for qualifiers, trying to stop the tears running down her face before lando returned. she hoped his anger was only heightened by his nerves, praying that after securing P3 he would return as his normal self, laughing and joking with her. in a strange way, she wanted cameras on them, she wanted him to be affectionate with her - she needed him to comfort her.

the woman walked nervously down to the garage, hoping to catch him quickly before he had to run off for media duties. maybe now he had secured a solid start position for tomorrows race he would be more willing to have a mature, sensible conversation with her.

or not.

lando spotted her immediately, pulling her arm quickly to lead her round to a secluded area outside the garage. he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself for letting it get this far. he was so irritated, he couldn’t even spare a moment to see the fear in her eyes as he took in a deep breath.

he wasn’t angry at her, but he didn’t know how else to express his overwhelming emotions.

“what do you want? make it quick, ive got media to do,” he snapped, letting go of her arm as they stopped walking. she rubbed at it, her skin still burning from his tight grip.

“i just wanted to see you lan, congratulate you,” she replied softly, biting back tears once more.

“oh now you want to be here to support me?” he breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“what does that mean?”

“i let you come with me to help with your career, and yet you can’t even turn up to support mine. i knew you were selfish but thi-”

“selfish?” she argued, trying to keep her voice low, “me? selfish? i haven’t got enough fingers to count the amount of times you’ve missed my important things because you were busy with your career. and have i complained once?”

“well no but-”

“but nothing, lando. i can’t even pretend to love this version of you,” she ranted, her anger being overcome with sadness, “you know what? fix your own reputation - or don’t. i don’t care what or who you do anymore,” she finished, turning on her heel and storming away from him.

he wanted to follow her, he wanted to hold her close as he apologised. lando knew he was being selfish, he knew it wasn’t fair to string her along under the pretence of saving his career. he knew he could no longer pretend, not with her and not with the public. lando needed her in every sense of the word. but duty calls, so he settles on dealing with this later, sitting her down and telling her the truth, even if it had the potential to destroy their friendship - he figured he couldn’t make it any worse.

but y/n isn’t at the track when he finishes up for the day, and she’s not at the hotel when he returns - and neither are her belongings. lando checked his phone repeatedly, messaging her desperately.

he fell to the bed, head in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing.

she was gone, and it was all his fault.

✧ i know that you're perfect for me

…tell me that you're sorry

…won't you please just take my heart again ✧

it took a few weeks for lando to finally stop messaging her, though y/n noticed an increase in visits from max, their mutual friend, under the guise of “just checking in” on his childhood friend. y/ wasn’t stupid, she knew who was behind max’s sudden interest in her wellbeing. but max was stupid either, he knew why the two of them had taken this fall out so hard.

“you did what?” max shouted in shock.

“i asked her to pretend to be girlfriend so i could keep my job,” lando sighed, hiding his face in his hands.

“you’re stupid.”

“i know.”

“in what world was that ever going to end well?”

“the world where i didn’t realise i actually do fancy her?” lando replied quietly, questioning his own admission.

“im so stupid,” max replied.

“how are you the stupid one here?”

“stupid for believing the two of you had finally worked out what has been right in front of you since we were 13.”

lando was desperate. he needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her how he felt - but for now, he settled with knowing she was ok.

“she’s alive and healthy - and she had pizza for lunch,” max told him over the phone, growing tired of this weekly routine the two of them had started.

“but she’s doing ok, right?”

“she’s good, lan,” he reassured, neglecting to tell him the part where she cried on him about losing her best friend over a trivial, child-like crush.

“but…?” lando asked, sensing there was more.

“but - she still doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“i could’ve guessed that one, thanks mate.”

“hey dont get mean with me - im just doing what you asked.”

“i know, sorry.”

“don’t apologise to me, find a way to fix this you muppet.”

y/n was not ok, spending most of her nights alone, scrolling through social media seeing the rumours about her and lando’s supposed split - “she’s wasn’t at the race” “i saw her leaving suzuka crying” “he looks so sad in interviews”. why do they care so much? but they aren’t wrong, she thought.

she began looking for a job, but nothing seemed as exciting as the work she’d done with mclarens environmental programme - which seemed to no longer be an option. unbeknownst to her, mclaren also loved the work she had done with them - her presence was greatly missed in the garage by many, especially those on the receiving end of lando’s current outbursts.

y/n’s phone lit up the entire room, the notification cutting through the silence of her room, breaking her away from her own thoughts.

-

y/n was still convinced this was a trick, luring her to miami under the pretence of work so that oscar could push her head first into a trap. the thought stuck with her throughout her plane journey, as she checked in to her hotel, even up to the moment she knocked on oscar’s door to discuss the project. she was waiting for lando to appear, push her into a locked room and force her to talk to him.

“…’but if i talk to him, ill end up telling him why i ran, and how i feel about him, then he’ll reject me, laugh in my face and im back to feeling sorry for myself,” she told oscar, having finished giving him the run down for their project, and allowing the conversation to move to the elephant in the room - what had happened between her and lando.

“im sure that’s not true,” he replied, feeling sad for the girl in front of him, though he already knew most of the story from hearing lando’s self-destructive rants.

she opened her mouth to responded, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door.

“oscar? are you ready to go?” a familiar voice called from the other side, sending y/n’s blood cold, her eyes widening in panic.

“what the fuck, oscar?” she whispered shouted, feeling betrayed.

“i didn’t know he was coming y/n, i swear, i’d never do that to you,” oscar reassured her truthfully, although slightly beaming as a plan formulated in his head, “stay there, ill tell him to meet me downstairs.”

oscar stood, moving to open the door slightly.

“hey mate - just got some things to sort out, ill meet you downstairs in 15?”

“sure,” lando nodded, turning to leave, but not before his eyes drifted into the room, spotting the same pair of flowery vans that had spent months sitting in his hallway. y/n’s vans.

lando walked down to the lobby, taking a seat as he waited for oscar, his mind consumed with the fact that y/n was here, in miami, in his hotel. why was she here? why hadn’t she told him? was she still avoiding him?

“he-”

“where is she?” lando interrupted the australian the moment he approached.

“’hi oscar, are you ready to go?’ would’ve been my response but ok,” oscar replied.

“where is she, oscar?” lando continued, determined.

“she doesn’t want to see you.”

“i know,” he replied bluntly, “why is she here?”

“y/n was invited to join mclaren as an advisor on a new climate video,” oscar gave in, replying as professionally as he could - he wasn’t here to discuss their ‘breakup’.

that’s a lie, he’s pretty sure zak asked him to do another environmental video purely to suggest that he contacted y/n to be an advisor. and he’s absolutely certain that zak, equally as fed up with lando’s attitude, was looking for a reason to bring the two back together.

“who invited her? where is she staying?” lando quizzed him as they walked towards the car, doubting he’d even get an answer.

“zak invited her, he appreciated the work she did for us in australia,” oscar replied, ignoring his second question. lando hummed in response, if oscar wouldn’t tell him, he would find out for himself.

it was only a press day, so lando split from his teammate and began his hunt for zak brown. it wasn’t hard, the man was wearing bright orange and had a laugh that could be heard for miles.

“hey zak,” he started.

“hey lando, what can i do for you?” zak asked, glancing at his at a text on his phone quickly before giving lando his full attention.

“how are you?” lando asked hastily, beginning his attempt to bombard his boss with questions till he slipped up.

“im good.”

“what are you doing today?”

“just going over some things with the team.”

“what do you think the weather will be like on sunday?”

“war-”

“where’s she staying?”

“the marriot i-” zak replied, pretending to stutter as he answered, feigning shock at accidentally revealing the hotel.

“thanks zak, love you,” lando called out as he jogged out. zak smirked to himself, replying to oscar’s message.

z → mission complete.

o → you made sure it looked like an accident, right?

z → jesus oscar i just told him the hotel name i didn’t kill him

of course lando couldn’t leave the track immediately, he had a job to do first. but the moment he became free for the evening, he was off, arriving at the hotel in record time. there were many cons to being a recognisable face, but a pro of being so famous was a hotel receptionist who barely batted an eyelid as lando demanded to know the room number of y/n l/n.

his knuckles rapped on the door quickly, his heartrate beating rapidly as he did. this could go so many ways, and most of them were not good. the door swung open, his eyes coming to look at the woman in front of him - she looked good, but she looked different, like something was missing.

“lando? what are yo- OSCAR!” she called out, turning to look back into the room, the door widening as she did revealing his teammate sat at the desk, “did you do this?”

“not me,” he replied, holding his hands up in defence. her head spun back around to look at lando, she was taking him in. he had a plaster on his nose, the curls were alive and well, and his everlasting tan ran the expanse of his skin. she didn’t want to admire him, but damn, miami was treating him well.

“go away i dont want to see you,” she announced suddenly, trying to shut the door but finding his foot blocking it.

“i know you don’t, but i need you to just listen to me, please. and then you can shut the door and never have to deal with me again,” he told her, pleading.

“oscar’s here.”

“actually, i should probably get going,” oscar announced moving to grab his stuff to leave. y/ns head shot back around, her eyes shooting daggers at him as if to say ‘dont you dare leave me alone with him right now’ to which he merely shrugged and walked out.

lando closed the door behind him, moving the two of them back into the room - y/n sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed as he remained stood in front of her.

“what do you need to tell me?” she asked him impatiently.

“y/n, these last few weeks have been hell for me. i know i hurt you, i said some horrible stuff that you really didn’t deserve and i will do anything for you to forgive me and move past this,” he said, pausing before adding, “i don’t know about yo-”

“oh, so it wasn’t you sending max to “check in on me” every week?” she interrupted, her eyebrows quirking with her accusation.

“you worked that one out then?” lando replied, laughing slightly, relief washing over him that she didn’t seem angry at him.

“it was so obvious! since when has max ever felt the need to check im doing ok ever? let alone every week?”

“i sent him because i care about you y/n. you weren’t responding to my messages, dodging my calls,” he told her, watching her smile slightly, a blush rising her face.

“so why are you here now?”

“look, this whole ‘thing’,” he started, waving his arms to indicate he meant whatever the two of them were doing, “it started as something purely to benefit the both of our careers. but i think somewhere down the line, it turned into something more. something that should’ve happened years ago,” he told her, his heart ready to beat its way out of his chest and jump out the window.

the two sat in silence for a moment, y/n mulled over his words in her head. this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? she wanted him to love her the way she loved him. so, why did she feel so apprehensive about letting him back in?

“i know you felt it too, y/n,” lando said again, not letting her thoughts distract her too far.

“feel,” she said bluntly.

“huh?”

“you said felt. i still feel that way about you lan.”

“then why won’t you let me in?”

“you said some really nasty stuff to me, lan. really horrible stuff that had me reconsidering my entire life. you’re lucky i even let you stay. why couldn’t you just be honest with me - instead of pushing me away?”

“i didn’t know how to,” he admitted, stepping closer to her, “if i had a time machine, i would take back everything i said. id go back and slap some fucking sense into myself.”

lando now stood directly in front of her, his thighs brushing her knees lightly as his hand moved to her face, wiping away a tear she didn’t even know what trailing down her cheek. his fingers tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before settling on cupping her jaw lightly.

“can you forgive me?” he asked her softly, thumb stroking at her cheek.

“it’s not all your fault, lan. i could’ve said something too,” she told him.

“please just say you forgive me so i can kiss you, you idiot,” he laughed out.

“forgiven,” y/n said quickly, her head tilting so that their lips met. it was familiar, the feeling his lips on hers, but this time there was a sense of urgency. a sense of love that was absent anytime they had kissed before. his tongue swiped at her bottom lip, desperate for more which she granted happily, as her hands moved to rest in his hair, tugging at the curls lightly.

“fuck, y/n. ‘missed you so much,” he moaned out, the grip on his hair sending his mind blank.

“missed you too,” she replied as he moved to kiss down her neck softly, “even if you were a bit of a dick.”

“let me make it up to you?” lando teased, nipping at the skin of her neck whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her top.

“there’s a lot to make up for.”

“ive got time,” he replied, pulling the fabric away from her body fully. her hands reached out, grabbing at his mclaren polo to remove it as well, dropping it next to herself on the bed.

lando laid her back on the bed, hovering over her as he continued kissing down the flesh of her torso.

“y/n i forgot m-” oscar started, barging back into the room, “oh my god, ive been gone what…? 3 minutes? how have you already taken your clothes off?” he exclaimed with a laugh.

“fuck off!” y/n and lando called out in unison, lando reaching for his top and launching it in oscar’s direction.

“ok ok, im going,” he replied, raising his hands again in defence, “stay safe kids,” he added before leaving the room, his forgotten phone now in tow.

“kids?” lando muttered, “im older than him?”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

[roomy-ghosted]

I think someone needs to say it.

The JRWI fandom as a whole has a lot of issues with gender roles the expression of ones self. More specifically towards the guys with longer hair. Which is what I'm talking about the most. Characters that are the core example of this are characters like Gillian, Kian and Ashe. The latter two moreso. Both of these characters are canonically cis men with long hair, yet both are consistently headcanonned as transfem. And whilst I literally headcanon Ashe with he/she pronouns (prefferring he mostly though) I really want to make a point of what I'm going to say.

And I'm making a point of saying this now that: I don't have any fucking issues with transfem headcanons. In fact, there's several that I have and several that I see that I adore. Mostly they're outside of this fandom, both are examples of story and for fun:

Hunter from the Owl House is one. It adds so much to the character when you add breaking free and seperation from the control of your abusers, self expression that they can show once free of their uncle. It drives a really nice narrative which works so beautifully for their character. Transfem Hunter is an interesting thing to look into, especially with the issues they have with having longer hair but how having longer hair is always percived as something a girl has. It works so well as a narrative and could be such an interesting thing writers and artists alike can look into.

Another is my one that is literally just for fun. It's Scott Pilgram. It's purely from a piece of fanart I saw that derrives from the 'im in lesbians with you' line said in the comics and film and it's such an interesting take as well. Even though it's one that's just for a silly, I can imagine so many in-depth takes and conflict that could happen in Scott's mind because of this and who they are as a person. As well as the tale told in the film being one of self acceptance and the baggage that carries through in relationship.

Now my massive reasoning for why I'm not against transfems as a whole and people shouldn't butcher me and call me transphobic (because yeah, transphobic trans people exist-) is out of the way, I can get to what I actually want to say:

All the time I see folks headcanoning these canonically beautiful boys as transfem. And whilst that's cool and all, I feel like we should actually look at why we're headcanoning these characters with long hair this way. It feels like it's almost enforcing typical gender roles, that pretty boys with long hair are women. And that's just not the case.

It's gotten to the point that people outside of the fandom think and even sometimes go into PD thinking Ashe is canonically a girl. And whilst yes, popular headcanons exist in all fandoms (see Tubbo with horns in the DSMP fandom) that they leak into the mainstream, it's gotten to the point of where I'm starting to think peoples brains really do just link: boy with long hair = girl all the time. All the time I see people basically going 'boy + long hair = you're a girl now' pretty much and the ammount of just dysphoria that gives me as someone who wants to dress more feminine and grow out his hair long after he starts T is driving me insane.

It enforces a lot of particular gender roles when you're deciding that anyone with long hair is a woman. that they're girly. That they're just that. A girl. And I've seen ages ago (when I was much younger so I don't remember the fandoms) people do the same with women with short hair. Women who are buff and strong and don't have traditionally 'girly' frames. Just instantly making them men. It's kinda fucked but a lot of people don't think the same when It's about men, do they?

You never see extremely masc presenting characters headcanonnoned this way.

Never Rolan Deep, who you could say having this hidden 'monster' inside of him is an analogy for being in the closet, about sexuality or even gender. About not knowing a part of yourself and then seeing others 'express' themselves (murder and maim and kill) in a way that makes you realise something about yourself that you're not who you thought you were in life. That you've been repressing this part of you, that you've discovered this part of you, that feels so weird and foreign that even now you decide to try and push it down, to pretend to be yourself.

Not Ryan, and his very heavy masculinity, how he engages in frat culture and how that can effect a someone's psyche. And how he plays sports and is very traditionally a 'boy'

And you don't see people headcanoning Mark fucking Winters as Transfem. A large, muscularly built person with facial hair.

It's always the folks who are more lithe, lanky, skinny canonically. Always the people who have long hair and are just pretty. Always them.

And I'm just wondering why?

This post isn't anything to start discourse. It isn't asking for you to 'fight back' against what I said with even more content of this sort of stuff. It's just asking for you to stop and think for a second. As to why it's always these pretty boys with long hair that you're thinking are femminine. That's all.

I think my desire to talk about this has been sparked a little more with someone using she/her pronouns for Sylnan in the jrwi-kiss bracket. Sylnan's very masc in apperance, although has long hair like my point, so it did make me curious about that person's headcanons and why they think that. There's another person on ao3 who headcanons Rand as using she/he pronouns and whilst that's not my cup of tea I still am a little curious as to why, as a lot of this fandom does just present very 'femme' or pretty looking guys as transfem.

And I'm welcome to other people's opinions on the matter. I'm welcome to open discussion. I will say though that I find it very hard to disscern tone over text with people I don't know well and that I'd appriciate if you state things such as the fact that you don't mean it argumentativly and such if that is the case. That we're talking civally. I've been attacked a lot over minor things in past fandoms, hell, I even got called racist randomly in THIS fandom for just mentioning colour theory in art styles and how colour picking source art for skintone might not work for your art style. Which, when you think about it, is moreso calling Wyvern racist, if anything. So please just make sure you mention your tone or even use indicators or brackets.

Also going to say: when talking about characters on this post, if you usually headcanon them as she/her or using she/her pronouns, if it's in the context of your headcanon and we're not talking about the canon character seperately (as fanon an canon are completely seperate), I'd appriciate if you use they/them for the characters. I will follow in suit when talking about fandom interations of characters as well. As I have done litearlly throughout this post. It's moreso out of respect for eachother and our personal headcanons, if anything.

#just roll with it #jrwi #im not tagging it as discourse if anyone asks because if you think it's discourse it's not. it's me pointing something out #it literally isn't discourse. #ashe winters #as they're talked about a lot in this and is the main offender #this talk can be applied to literally every fandom. but im in jrwi right now and i see it so much. #I AM a little scared posting this. as I know that like- I could just be headhunted and hounded if people take what I'm saying the wrong way #and don't stop and think about the point I'm making #as I adore this fandom; they're so diverse and accepting of everything and do point out flaws in the source content #but still adore and love the content as a whole. #And I love makign content for the fandom. a lot. I adore it a lot. And I don't wanna have to stop because the fandom took something wrong. #but this is a thing that's been bugging me and a friend recently. Her a lot longer. I think it's been bugging him for a while- #and I just really wanna get it out there. #and yeah. #its not me saying 'stop doing this' and more of me saying 'think about what you're doing for a second.' #like I said I headcanon Ashe as he/she (transmasc ways). But the ammont of just she/her Ashe headcanons are everwhere. #and you go to read fanfic and they're just. always a girl. Always. Never he/she. never just he. #always just she/her (transfem ways) ashe. #everwhere. #Gill is not as common of an offender but my friend kept mentioning them and I had to mention them as well.

[sleepyjupz]

i dont think i've (intentionally) spoken on this tumblr in a bit and i, like basically everyone else, am so so tired and so so sad

#sometimes i make a post for my private rant tumblr and post her here by mistake #my friend stops talking to me every winter & recently said 'thx for being understanding/patient' and tbqh i'm not #im tired of being semi ditched every winter i just have no friends so #ive also been talking to my therapist about how being able to function better in isolation & depression than others isn't the flex ppl say #“high functioning” my ass i WILL have a panic attack if one thing is out of place #i also never understood struggling with hygiene but recently realized its bc i'll have a beakdown if i don't take care of my hygiene #but sure sure i'm “high functioning” and can be ditched for months/dont need support/am not struggling #im not mad at her specifically but i am at the general mental health community and honest have a lot of thoughts about this #anyways i never bought my ipad and now likely never will #the parent i'm a dependent of (bc i cant afford to live) lost his job of 20+ years #and i had to say goodbye to my kitty cat last summer and that has destroyed me #and basically everything is awful #but i'm inhaling a lot of books as my main source of comfort and constantly MADDing having friends and a caring s/o to cope #i wouldnt say its going great theres cracks in my daydreams and im reminded of how isolated i am & have always been #anywho this was a lot of tmi and i miss my snuggle bug

[after-witch]

Two Birds One Stone [Yandere Gojo Satoru x Reader]

Title: Two Birds One Stone [Yandere Gojo x Reader[

Synopsis: Gojo Satoru follows you home. ‘Alone in the Dark’ follow-up.

Word count: 3000ish

notes: yandere, noncon sex, humiliation, misogyny against reader

No one in your family, no one on the spacious estate--from the rotating guests down to the most menial of servants--believes that you are truly ill. Yes, your family let you return home without too many questions, let you bundle yourself in your room and come out only for meals that you leave as soon as it’s polite to do so. They offer to fetch the physician, and only smile indulgently when you insist that it’s a passing bug, you’ll be fine soon. 

They do all these things, while they know that you’re not really unwell. 

At least they grant you the mercy of not saying it out loud, at least for now, which is something you can appreciate. There is very little that you appreciate nowadays. 

There is a soft knock at the door. One of the maids, then. They were trained to knock politely.

“Yes?”

The door gently opens to reveal one of the newer hires. A modest girl with the ability to act demure and professional just as well as any of the seasoned women who were multi-generational hires, whose mothers-and-grandmothers-and-great-grandmothers had worked for your family.

“Miss, my lord and lady have sent me to inform you that you have a caller.”

You clear your throat.

“Ah, unfortunately, I’m not feeling very--”

It was her turn to clear her throat, interrupting you. It almost made you flinch. It was an unusual gesture, not one your parents would have allowed. It should have been trained out by now.

“My lord and lady have sent me with explicit instructions that you are to come to the parlor immediately, even if you are unwell.”

You bite back a sigh. It must have been someone from one of the other families, then. Maybe throwing out another potential marriage match for you--your mother had fretted, especially recently, that you should have already been married by now. 

The thought of sitting in that damned parlor and pretending like you weren’t constantly about to throw up from stress and shock made you want to tear your hair out. You should tell the maid to go away, and bury yourself under your blankets, and scream and scream because Gojo Satoru made you do something awful and the world was unfair and you thought he was your friend and--

No.

People like you didn’t have that luxury. So you force down your bile and half-heartedly make yourself presentable in the mirror, and follow the maid who escorts you down the hallway, out of the intimate private family rooms and into the grand hall that leads down to the parlor. 

She stops you before you reach the threshold of the open door, and you almost trip on your dainty house shoes. The maid looks back at you with an expression that is something in between demure and overwhelmed. The skin of her cheeks flushes pink. She leans in, as if you were friends, and whispers,

“Miss, it’s--it is Gojo Satoru who has called on you.”

The world seems to drop out entirely. Yet you only feel as if you are falling as you stand there, hand braced against the door frame, head spinning. All the while, the maid grins, unawares, no doubt impressed that her employer’s daughter has associations with someone so well-known. 

Sound pushes and pulls around you, distorting in  your shock, but it’s there, clear as day: his voice. And your parents’ voices, all elegant and honeyed. 

From your vantage point against the door frame, you can hear the trickling edges of their conversation.

“They were smart enough to ask me for some tips, and, well, how could I say no?”

Your mother’s voice oohs-and-ahhs. “No wonder we have seen improvement with them lately. All thanks to your generous tutelage, no doubt!”

You can practically hear the grin in Gojo’s voice.

“Well, it certainly helps that I like their company so much. Very much, in fact.” 

You can vividly imagine the look that your parents have probably just given one another even before you cross the threshold of the door and announce yourself, curtsying slightly to your parents, as you’ve been brought up to do. 

Gojo stands when you enter. Oh, the fucker. All etiquette and primness. Your stomach churns. If he wasn’t buttering them up, if he was anywhere else, if he wasn’t doing this to mock you, he wouldn’t be standing with his hands behind his back and a polite smile on his face. He’d be picking at his ear or lounging on the fine upholstery like it was some ratty college couch. 

Your mother is fluttering towards you in an instant, smoothing down the wrinkled bits of your clothing, fingers darting over your face, looking for blemishes, scratches, anything that needs to be hidden or fixed. 

When she’s satisfied, she lightly clasps your hand and leads you over to where Gojo and your father are standing. Your father greets you with a warm nod--unusual for him, but there is company, after all--and Gojo. Well. 

Gojo smiles. Softly. You think, if he had his way, he’d be grinning like a cat that caught the canary. But that would be too much, in front of your parents. Too uncouth. So instead, he smiles lightly and sweetly and it makes you want to bend over and expel breakfast on your mother’s expensive rug. 

“I’m happy to see you’re up and about,” he says. And then he reaches out and touches your shoulder. You stiffen.

You look to your parents--surely this is improper, surely they will say something--but your mother only presses her hand delicately to her lips and smiles.

Your head turns, slowly, back to Gojo. His smile widens.

“Don’t worry. I’ve told them about our private courtship. We don’t have to hide it anymore.”

The world should fall out from underneath you, but it stays stubbornly flat. 

Your lips open and you will say something to make him leave, you’ll tell your parents what he did or feign illness or--

His hands move to rest on your hips, and--you jolt. Fingers dig into the skin of your hips through your clothing. A painful pinch that tells you: hush.

“I think it’s appropriate for them to have a bit of privacy, don’t you?” Your mother asks coyly, looking at your father. He nods solemnly and takes your mother’s arm. You have never, in your life, wanted your parents to stay with you more than you do now.

But they walk away. As your mother shuts the door, she gives you something most rare: a look of approval. How can she not notice the widened worry in your eyes? The anxiety in your expression? The mere presence of Gojo Satoru shuts out everything but his golden glow, the promise of his connection with your family. 

The sound of the door shutting is like nails on a chalkboard.

You take the opportunity to jerk yourself away from him--to your surprise, he lets you. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You hiss. 

Gojo puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs easily.

“You weren’t around, so I came to you.”

You hate the way he looks too casual. As if you’d ghosted him after a bad study session and not--not….

“Of course I wasn’t around,” you say, almost spitting. “You…” But you don’t say it. Shame washes over you, hot and sticky. 

The silence between you is just as warm, and you want to wash it off.

“Let’s go to your room for more privacy,” he offers. 

“No.” Flat refusal is the only thing you can think to do now. Just say no, no, no, until he gives up and leaves. 

Instead of leaving, he sighs, languid, and stretches his arms above his head. “Ah, your parents will be so disappointed that I left so early, after all that I talked you up.”

You hate him so much.

“C’mon,” he wheedles, when you don’t respond. “I just want to see where you grew up. Is that so bad?’

Show him your bedroom, make him leave. You cross your arms in front of your chest. “It’s nothing special. Just a room,” you mumble.

“Don’t say that!” Gojo reaches for you and ignores your flinch when he wraps his arm around your shoulder. “It’s your room, of course it’s special.”

Your stomach responds to his praise with a low roil, a remnant of how you might have responded to his compliments before all of this. 

--

“There,” you say, voice tight and short, as you gesture towards your bedroom. You pointedly leave the door open but Gojo doesn’t protest. 

It’s not the most impressive bedroom on the estate--that would be your parents’ room, followed by the siblings who managed successful sorcerer careers and have already had a few children. 

But it’s cozy, and it's yours, and for you that’s enough. You just wish Gojo wouldn’t contaminate it with his presence. He looks at everything, smiling, humming. He goes to read a journal open on your dresser and you rush to slam it shut. He jumps back with an exaggerated grin and apologizes. 

He doesn’t look and leave, like you hoped he would. Instead, he sits down on your bed and pats the space next to him.

“You said you just wanted to look.”

He pats the spot again. “I just want to ask about your training. Really quick.” The look you give him must be enough to kill, because he puts his hands in the air. “I promise, only a few questions about your training.”

Your legs tingle as you force them to move, one step at a time, to the bed. You sit next to him and the proximity makes you want to flee. But if you just do what he says and get this over with, he’ll leave. You can deal with your parents’ expectations about some courtship later.

He smiles when you sit. 

“So, any progress? Better? Worse?” He looks down at you through his glasses. “Be honest.” 

“I… I guess I have been getting better at concentrating,” you murmur. You’ve been forced to, really, since you didn’t want your parents to know about what happened. 

“Aw, see? I knew it would help!”

It. Is that what he calls what he did to you? Your throat hurts. 

“That’s not why you did it.”

Gojo has the audacity to quirk his head at you. It’s a gesture you know would make many women’s heart flutters. It just makes you want to close your eyes.

“No?”

You don’t respond, and after a moment, he gets up. It’s enough to make you sigh in relief. He’s leaving. He’ll be gone and you can figure out what to tell your parents and it will all be fine because--

But he doesn’t walk through the door.

Instead, he shuts it.

“Gojo--”

He gives you a look.

“No one will mind,” he tells you, voice light. “I’ll be quiet if you will.”

Your heart thuds, one, two, three.

“What do you mean?”

He looks at you as if you’ve asked him the stupidest question in the world. Maybe you did. Because he’s walking towards the bed now, forcing you to scoot backwards on it. You realize the vulnerability of your body in this position far too late, because before you know it, he’s crawling onto the bed with you.

“Wait--wait,” you sputter. “C-Can’t you just leave? Please?”

He leans over you and pins you down with the mere presence of his body.

“You’re so sweet, you know that?” He kisses your neck, and you crane it to the side, which only makes him kiss it more. “So cute. I’ve been thinking about you every day since then. Every hour. Every minute.” His kisses grow more numerous, on your shoulder, up your neck, your cheek, finally resting just above your lips.

“Gojo, stop.” He’s so close that your breath ghosts his skin, puffs against his lips.

“I’ve been thinking about the faces you made,” he says, voice dropping an octave. The words slink out of him like a snake. “How sweaty you got. What you looked like with your come all over that pretty face.”

If your cheeks get any hotter, you’ll get ill. You know it.

“Stop it,” you whisper, but your lips brush against his and he takes the opportunity to capture you in a kiss. 

The distraction is enough to keep you from thinking about his hands, to keep you from being aware of his fingers unlacing the buttons of your blouse, of how he slides your arms out of the sleeves. You’re only wearing a thin morning camisole underneath, and the sound of it shredding breaks through the unwanted kiss. 

“Gojo--” You say, or want to say, but all your words are muffled against him. 

Saliva trails from his mouth--you want to gag--when he pulls away. “Satoru,” is all he says. 

He’s taken off your shirt. He’s ripped your undershirt. You’re lying underneath him, ample chest bared, and he’s not going to get off you.

His fingers find your nipples and give them an unceremonious tweak. 

“Don’t!”The word comes out too loud, too shrieky, and both of you still in the silence that follows.

You expect him to get off you now. You expect him to realize the danger of being found out and take the opportunity to leave; ego bruised, perhaps, but still--he would be gone.

Instead, he grins at you. “I thought you wouldn’t want anyone to come in and see us? Ah, but…” He rolls your nipples in between his fingers, and you jerk on the bed at the strange, electric feeling that shoots in between your legs. “Maybe you want to get caught?”

You press your lips firmly together--be quiet, you tell yourself, be quiet!--and shake your head. 

He continues to roll your nipples, and your hips squirm against the feeling. “I think you do,” he muses. “You know, if someone did waltz in here while I’m balls deep in you, we’d have to get married.”

You practically choke on the unexpected sliminess of his words. But perhaps not so unexpected, considering what he was doing. 

“Wh--What?” You hiss.

Gojo looks at you like you’re dumb--cute. But dumb. “I mean, your family is traditional, no? I don’t think they’ll let me deflower you and not make an honest woman out of you after that.” He spreads his fingers out and gropes the plump flesh of your breasts with his hands; his palms brushing against your hardening nipples makes you bite back a sigh. 

“I mean--I meant--we’re not doing, I don’t want to do--”

He leans forward and rubs his nose against your cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. I like foreplay.”

“Foreplay?” You ask, helplessly, naively. 

“Fuck, that’s cute,” he sighs. He begins to rub at your nipples with his thumbs, and there’s a warm, prickling sensation in them that makes your toes begin to curl.  “You know how many times I jerked off thinking about these tits?”

“Stop,” you say, breathy. It feels good, and you hate it, but it doesn’t hurt--it doesn’t hurt, at least. That’s what you tell yourself to keep your mouth from screaming.

He ignores your words and squishes your breasts together with his hand, making them balloon almost comically.

“They’re so big, you know?” He pushes and pulls them apart. “How do you even stand up with these things?” 

Humiliation blooms in  your throat.

“Don’t be mad,” he says. “I’m not trying to insult them.” He sighs, then, and goes back to rubbing your nipples with his fingers, eliciting a whimper from your lips. “They’re gorgeous. Nice and big…”

Another whimper, this one louder, making you press your palm against your mouth.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He leans down, peering over his glasses. “Feels good when my fingers play with your tits?”

It does. You shake your head. But it does.

Gojo tsks lightly. You feel one hand leave your breast and reach down, down--sliding underneath the waistband of your skirt. Your body lurches but he’s too heavy and strong and you can’t move, even as he swipes his fingers down your underwear. You can feel the way his digits meet some slickness, smearing it around on the other side of the fabric.

“Your mouth can lie, but down here… you’re leaking.”

Your heart lurches with the memory of your leaking cursed energy, with the memory of the hard floor--and with the knowledge that it’s happening again. 

Without fanfare, he grabs the waistband of your skirt and begins to shimmy it down. You kick and struggle, little noises escaping your lips that surely aren’t loud enough to be heard outside the walls. But it doesn’t matter. He’s stronger than you. 

Your underwear goes down next, and you cringe at the feeling of wetness clinging to the soft material as he peels them down your legs. With your clothes gone, it’s easy for him to grip your upper thighs and pull them apart, exposing you directly to him.

“Gojo--” Your throat is dry and your words hoarse.

“Your pussy is prettier than I remember,” he says, ignoring your protests, ignoring the way your legs squirm. “Look--did your clit just twitch? Is it saying hello?” He smiles up at you, stupidly, and some part of you wonders if he really thinks you’ll laugh at what he’s saying. All you can do is swallow against rising bile.

“I was going to eat you out until you squealed first,” he begins, voice low. “But I don’t think I can wait. Besides, you look wet enough.” He rubs his thumb against your clit and you slap your hand back against your mouth at the sudden jolt of pleasure. 

You know what he’s doing, even if you don’t want to admit it. You know before he reaches down and shoves his pants down around his ankles. You know before his boxers come down next. You know before you see his cock, hard like the last time.

How in the world is that going to fit inside you? You think. You feel, dimly, your privates clench and twitch at nothing.

“Your body is eager,” he tells you, cooing. “Even if you pretend that you’re not.”

“I’m not,” you murmur. He doesn’t listen. Your fingers grip the sheets of your body and you think dimly about what you’ve heard about sex. All you know is that you weren’t supposed to have it with anyone but your husband, lest you produce unwanted bastards to soil your family’s good name. Your mother had taught you all about the value of your “flower,” the importance of being chaste and virtuous. 

And here you are, splayed on your bed, with Gojo about to take it all away from you.

You let out a whimper when he leans forward and rubs the tip of his cock in your folds. It’s thick and warm. 

“Gojo,” you say, voice tight.

“Satoru,” he chides, sweetly. “I’m about to fuck you, honey, you can call me Satoru.” 

You press your lips together and tighten your fingers on the sheets as he finally moves his hips forward, pressing his cock inside you, slowly.

It hurts. Enough that tears prick at the edges of your eyes, and you let out a soft, pained keen.

Gojo’s there, kissing you, as soon as it leaves your lips. His fingers brush away your tears even as he pushes forward, filling you up more, stretching you. The ache deepens, there’s a sting with it--you wonder if you’ll bleed, like your sister says she did, on her wedding night.

It doesn’t stop once he’s inside you. He pulls his hips back--there’s a brief relief from the feeling when he’s mostly out--before he pushes back in, and the ache reignites, making you jolt and whimper against his lips.

“Shh,” he tells you. One of his hands trails down your stomach, down your thigh, to rest against the top of your sex. His thumb begins to rub out slow circles, and an unwanted aching pleasure begins to build there. 

It doesn’t make the pain go away. It doesn’t make the humiliation go away. All it does is introduce a sick sort of pleasure that makes you feel worse about yourself. How could you like this? It should be impossible, for your body to begin to feel a low, rolling pleasure that cuts through the pain–cuts through the horror–of what’s happening to you.

You whimper, bubbling out a little cry, and Gojo presses sweet kisses to your cheeks.

“That’s it, that’s my girl, you like that, don’t you?” The sweetness of his words is underscored by the wet sound of his cock thrusting inside you, by a faint slapping sensation against you every time he does. 

But you do like it. Or your body does, and you’re not sure what the difference is, splayed on your bed, all warmth and sweat and aches. Gojo’s thumb presses deeper and your mouth opens–you gasp and he swallows your noises in a kiss, not letting up until his thumb is rubbing hard enough that your body arches and there’s a coil snapping inside you.

You grunt, animal-like, into his mouth. He grunts right back and shame curls over you, even as your body spasms in forced bliss. You can feel yourself clenching around him, as if you wanted him, as if you were trying to make the sex better for him.

He doesn’t pull away until you’re done clenching around him, and you shut your eyes for a moment to avoid looking at the almost dopey, pleased expression on his face.

The realizations hit you like slaps  in the wake of your orgasm. 

He made you orgasm. It felt good. You liked it, you hated it. You want more, you never want it again. 

You just lost your virginity--still losing it, he’s not done–the precious commodity that your mother told you to guard well--on your bed. Before marriage. Before you were even in love. Before anything. 

How could it be any other way, with Gojo Satoru? He takes, takes, takes. Takes what he wants because he can, because he knows it belongs to him, if he wants it. You, included. 

There’s a gentle pat on your cheek and you realize Gojo is patting you, tapping you like he might a dazed sorcerer whose head met the rough end of concrete during a fight.

“Don’t get lost on me, now. Look at me… hey, you still here?”

“Yes,” you whisper, although it comes out more stuttered than you’d like with the shake of your body as he thrusts.

He plants a sloppy kiss on your mouth and moves faster. It hurts, still, but some of the more pressing sting is gone. Instead it’s an uncomfortable, new ache. 

“You look so good like this, y’know?” His hands go from your cheeks to your breasts, and he squeezes them. “All ready to be filled up.”

His words take a moment to make any sense--and even then, you’re still not quite sure.

“Fill me… up?”

His thrusts get faster, and you hear your own breath stuttering stupidly as he fucks you. “Like I said--” His words are half-panting, but you get the feeling that they needn’t be; he only wants to seem undone, you think. “Want to fuck you. Want to breed you.” His hands squeeze your breasts, kneading at the flesh. “You’ll get real big, won’t you? With a baby in your stomach, just one at first, but--” He starts to speed up now, and you see a faint redness on his cheeks. “Fuck, who knows how many we’ll have.”

Cold fear clenches your stomach tight, and you resist the primal urge to gag.

“My-my parents,” you plead. Your parents would never let this happen, would they? Not if you told them the truth?

Gojo leans above you, looking down at you with a lascivious expression as he begins to thrust faster, making your breasts wobble with the motion.

“Your parents already approve. They feel honored, and they should, that I want to marry you. Have kids with you. Merge our bloodlines. Might have to fudge the due date, if this takes, but…” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, his head veers down towards yours, and his lips practically crash into your mouth as he kisses you and presses himself deep inside you. He groans into your mouth and a warm, gooey feeling blossoms inside you at the same time. He came–inside you. You knew enough to know that was a bad thing, as far as potential pregnancies went. 

When he pulls back from the kiss, he pulls back his hips, and something warm trickles out with his cock. It’s an awful feeling. The soreness, the wetness. The feeling of being used.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he says, voice tinged with something warm and breathy. “Did you like that? Making me come?” 

You don’t answer.

Gojo doesn’t seem to mind. He flops down next to you and catches his breath.

“We should go back out there pretty soon,” he says airily. “They’ll be expecting us. Your parents, that is.”

Your voice is a croak. “What do you mean?”

Gojo leans up on his elbows and gives you a cheeky grin. “Oh, I forgot to tell you! I told your parents I was staying for dinner. Figured I’d work up an appetite in here… plus we can tell them all about our engagement over dessert. Two birds, one stone?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling, with its ornamented paintings. Pretty flowers and trees that your mother picked out when you were a baby.  You had no input in it, just like you have no say in anything now. 

No birds on the ceiling. 

There are only the stones in the pit of your stomach, waiting to be retched up. 

#yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere jjk #yandere #afterwitch writes

[bet-on-me-13]

Desperate Villain Danny AU

(this is a 17 yr old danny)

It started out slowly.

First, a few of Danny's less active Rouges stopped showing up at all. He didn't really notice, and just assumed that they had finally had their Fill of their Obsession for a while and would simmer down for a bit.

Then, some more of his Rouges stopped showing up. No big deal, but he is getting a little concerned for them. They had definitely not had their fill of their Obsessions yet, why did they stop?

Then, the worst started happen. All of his actual Ghost Friends start to disappear. Ember, Kitty, Johnny, even Amorpho, they all start to not show up at all in the Living World.

He goes looking for them in Realms, but he can't find any of them whatsoever. He tries asking around, but everybody else noticed the disappearances much earlier than him and began to hide away from whatever was taking all of the strong Ghosts. He can't find anybody, and the ones he does find won't tell him anything (or don't know themselves)

It takes weeks of searching, but eventually he gets his answer.

The GIW show up in Amity again after a period of absolutely no activity. They have stepped up their operations HARD. Advanced Ghost Hunting Equipment, Much more Competent Agents, and most worrying of all, they seem to know that Phantom is friends with Sam, Tucker, and Danny Fenton.

The GIW comes to his house for a Meeting with his parents, where he overhears them offering his parents a position in their Organization as Head Scientists. While there they also manage to plant Bugs in Danny's room somehow. Although he finds them quickly enough and destroys them.

And then, one night during dinner while his parents are ranting about the GIWs Labs, they mention something that cinches it for Danny.

"And today we even got to Dissect one of the Spooks! It was that Mind Controlly one, you know the one with the blue firey hair stuff that sang a bunch! We're going back tomorrow to continue our Study, this time we'll see how long it'll pretend to experience pain before it decides to give up on tricking us!"

That night, Danny packed up all his things, destroyed the Ghost Portal alongside everything else in his parents Lab, and left his house.

He tracked down the GIW Base, saved Ember from her Cell, and decimated the surrounding Area. No survivors, none of the research is preserved, and he left the Site Director alive to question him.

Turns out, the GIW had managed to Reverse Engineer the Ghost Portal from that brief period of time where they had taken control of Fenton Works. They had been using their own Portal to kidnap any Ghost they could get their hands on. Using the research from those subjects, they perfected their Ghost Hunting Tech and started going after the bigger fish.

"But good luck finding it, Ecto Scum! The Portals location was hidden to everybody, even me!" He said.

"Where are the others!" Danny cried. He was losing control of his appearance by this point. After seeing what they had done to Ember, he was too angry to maintain his Humanoid Form successfully. Even now, with most of his control, he could hear the Static in the air around him, and see the Glitching of his hands as they clenched this Monsters clothes.

"Scattered!" He said with a crazed laugh, "We knew we couldn't contain all of them, so we send them to all of our sites across the Country! You'll never find them!"

Without another word, Danny plowed his arm through the man's chest.

He turned around, picking up Embers weakened Body, before beginning his long flight to Wisconsin. Vlad still owed him a few Favors after all, and honestly his mentorship offers seemed VERY Tempting right now.

(Why reject him if you don't care about keeping your dad alive anymore?)

...

The JLA had recently received a distress signal from somewhere in the middle of some random Forest in Illinois, but when they got to the location, all they found was a crater filled with the ruins of some kind of Military Base, and so so many Bodies.

They had managed to figure out that this was a Government Site owned by an organization called the GIW. A Paranormal Investigation Wing of the Government focused on the study and capture of Supernatural Beings called Ecto-Entities, otherwise referred to as Ghosts.

As it turns out, an Ecto-Entity that had been terrorizing the local town for a few years now had made a drastic change in normal behavior and had attacked the GIW Base that had been posted there.

They would have destroyed it years ago, but this one was unnaturally powerful. It had eluded their capture and terrorized the Town for years, but they had too much pride to contact the JLA and admit that they needed help. And honestly until now, they didn't really need it. The Entity had been entirely confined to the singular town, and had not strayed from that behavioral Pattern in the 3 years since it's inital sighting. They had made the difficult choice to leave it there, sacrificing one town in exchange for the rest of the country.

But now they did need their help. This Entity, this Phantom, was one of the most powerful beings that had ever recorded, maybe even The Most Powerful. The fact that it had left the Secluded town it usually frequented meant that it was loose to wreak havoc across the rest of the world.

The JLA Needed to Find this thing, and Fast.

#Dp x dc #Dpxdc #Dc #Dcu #Danny Phantom #Villain Danny Phantom #Morally Grey Danny Phantom #He doesn't care about killing GIW agents #He'll still avoid Civilians though #Danny accepts Vlads offer #He doesn't care anymore cause he has no reason to refuse #He doesn't care about being evil #He doesn't care if his dad dies #And Ellie once told him that she still held some love for vlad so that's not really too big a conflict of interest #Speaking of Ellie... #He hasn't seen her in a while... #🤫 #Foreshadowing??? #Hmmm

[darthannie]

thesis statement

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader Summary: You accidentally bump into your Professor, Jim, at a sex shop. Word count: 3.3k Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is ~25, Jim is ~45), alcohol consumption (a few sips of wine), kissing, praise, soft dom! Jim kinda, fingering, p in v, Jim takes his time, a smidge of cockwarming, idk what else to put here! a/n: There will probably be a part two where they explore their little arrangement a bit more. Maybe it'll turn into something longer. I love Jim sm. I also want him to FUCK you know. We’ll get there, but I was feeling a lil soft. Also hmmm i wonder why Jim was at the sex shop in the first place.

It was around 5 pm on a Sunday and you were really in need of something new. Very in need. Your old toy just wasn’t cutting it anymore. To remedy this it was time for a trip to Deluxxx, your neighborhood sex shop. Your friend, Nadia, knew someone who worked there and you’d go there for all your wants and needs. You strolled in and gave a wave to the person behind the counter. 

“Hey, David! How’s the shop been treating ya?”

They looked around at the empty shop, “Hey! It’s slow but I can’t complain. What are you in for?” 

You sighed, “You remember that last toy I bought?“ 

”No way, does it suck?! It was so expensive.” 

“No, no it’s great! Gets the job done, waterproof, 10 settings-“ 

“So what’s the problem”, they asked.

You gestured in front of yourself with both hands, “It’s just… a little too small?"

They laughed and threw their head back. “Of course. Well lucky for you we got something new in recently that you might like. It’s in the back aisle, bottom shelf.” 

You thanked them and made your way to the back. You crouched down to find the one David was telling you about. It was definitely bigger than the one you had. And thicker. It didn’t have any extra frills but that wasn’t what you were looking for. You snapped a picture and sent it to Nadia with “new bf” as the caption. You let out a little laugh that was more like an exhale as you got up. Nadia has been nagging you about needing a boyfriend and you said you were just going to buy a new one. You were still looking at your phone as you turned to exit the aisle and bumped into someone. The apology on your lips died as you recognized the person in front of you as Jim, your professor and thesis advisor. 

His jaw went slack for a moment and his eyes widened as he recognized you. You were the last person he’d expect to see there but it wasn’t an unwelcome sight. He enjoyed teaching you, not knowing whether it was your interest in the subject or the fact he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He broke eye contact for a moment, scanned your body, took note of the item in your hand, and then met your eyes again. You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings and before anyone could say anything he cleared his throat, said “Excuse me” and walked past you.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive and it was becoming clear why you did not have a boyfriend. You wanted him. This wasn’t a new revelation by any means. Nadia was in the same class as you, and she bugged you about it almost daily. You hadn’t expected him to find you in such a vulnerable position. You collected yourself and walked swiftly to the counter and paid. Jim was long gone. You said your goodbyes to David and you texted Nadia to let her know what happened.

She called you almost immediately and opened by saying, “So you know you gotta fuck him now. Like you have to. You don’t have an option. You MUST”. You laughed. There was absolutely no way Jim wanted you. You let her know as much and she disagreed. 

“There’s no way he doesn’t want you. Come on. All the silent stares in class. Asking you to stay after. Constant emailing about things that have nothing to do with class. I mean who just emails their student a TED talk because they thought of them? All signs point to him wanting you. AND what about that one day where you teased him about not having a ring on his finger, and he just said I’m working on it? You know there was this smile he gave you afterward that I don’t think you caught. You were too busy hiding the blush on your face”

“I know I know.” You relented, “I don’t know, it just seems so far-fetched!” 

You knew that was the logical response but something was telling you Nadia was right. He had to have known that his voice sent a shiver down your spine. That you wanted him to take you right there on the table after class. You had caught him staring during class. Maybe she had a point. You couldn’t help but wonder if he really did want you too. 

Later on in the day, you got into the shower. Scalding hot water hit your back. You couldn’t help but recount the events from earlier. He had lingered, looked at the item in your hand, and raised an eyebrow. You would’ve been embarrassed if he didn’t already feel so familiar. 

Soft music played as you lathered a silky body wash along your body. Your mind started to wander, thinking about what it would be like if it were his hands instead of yours. You rinsed off the soap, running your hands over your arms and breasts all while imagining they were his. You turned off the water, dried off, and headed towards the bag you placed on your small table.

You unpackaged your new toy and went back to the bathroom to clean it. Getting back to bed, you lied down and opened up an incognito tab on your phone. You looked for some porn to watch. Once you found an adequate video, you relaxed and continued to watch. The man in the video touched the woman’s body in all the right places. He laid her down and kissed up her thighs before starting to eat her out. This was enough for you to start teasing yourself with the toy, feeling the weight of it on your clit. Suddenly the video was unnecessary. All you could think about was Jim.

You positioned it just right and started to insert it. You gasped as you felt how it stretched you out. This was what you needed. You paused the video, throwing your phone on the side to focus on the task at hand. You put the rest of it inside you and let yourself adjust to the size. You began to move the toy as you thought of him. You wondered if he felt this good. He had to feel better than this. You got off that night thinking about him and only him. When you finally came down from your high you grabbed some water, cleaned your toy, and got straight to bed. 

You didn’t want what happened yesterday to impact your experience in class so you decided to just go on like nothing happened. 

You headed to the bathroom and began going through the movements of the morning. Before you knew it you were by the building where class was held. A bit further down the sidewalk was Jim walking from the opposite direction. The both of you got to the door at the same time. He didn’t say a thing. He just gave you a polite, awkward smile as he opened the door for you. You returned the smile and walked in. Side by side you walked to the classroom. This time you opened the door for him. You watched as he entered and mentally prepared yourself to take a class. It was just the two of you in the room. You sat at the round table with your laptop in front of you trying your best to seem busy.

He broke the silence, “Did you have a nice weekend?”

You summoned a response, “Yes, actually, I was able to spend some time with myself.”

He quipped back, “Oh, I’m sure you were.” 

Your eyes widened trying to process what he said. He let out a light chuckle as another student arrived. The class was full within the next five minutes. Nadia walked in and looked between you and him. She smirked at you. The air was buzzing for the next two hours. You could cut the tension between you two if you tried hard enough. You asked and answered questions like usual. Each time you spoke he paid extra attention to you. When class ended you began gathering your things slowly, hoping you were the last in the class. Nadia leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Just don’t do it by my seat.” You gave her a light slap on the arm and she laughed. Then, it was just you and him. He approached you and spoke softly. 

“Listen, I apologize if I overstepped a boundary with the joke I made earlier. I thought it would help ease the tension if, I don’t know-“ 

“It’s alright, Professor. We’re both mature adults who can bump into each other at a sex shop and move on with our lives.” You got up ready to leave but he spoke.

“Since when am I Professor?”, he asked. 

You looked at him confused. He clarified, “Since when do you call me Professor? You never call me Professor.”

You cleared your throat, “Well I just thought we should reestablish a professional boundary since the- you know. Keep the personal and the professional separate.”

He looked at you, pensive for a moment. He moved a bit closer to you. “Well, what if we don’t keep it separate?” 

Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening. “Are you serious?”

“Very.” He lowered his voice a bit and moved closer. He ran his hand down your arm.  His mouth was now near your ear. There was no chance someone else was going to hear him, but he whispered anyway. “I think you should come over tonight. If you want to.” 

“Yeah, I want to.” You mentally cursed yourself for caving in so quickly.  

“How’s seven?, he asked.

“Seven’s good.” Your head was spinning. This was happening.

“I’ll also need your number so I can send you the address.” He handed you his phone with a new contact page open. You entered it in, gave him a shy smile, and turned to leave.

He grabbed your wrist before you were able to move away from him. “By the way, leave your new purchase at home. You’re not going to need it.” 

Summoning some courage, you leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t close the gap all the way. “Let’s save it for tonight.”, he said as he pulled away. He gathered his things without looking at you and left. 

When you returned home you threw your stuff down and immediately called Nadia. “I KNEW IT!" she yelled. “I KNEW that’s why you hung back. God, it was so tense between you two.”

“You could tell?” You didn’t think it was that obvious until she chuckled and said that everyone could tell. The rest of the conversation consisted of Nadia giving you a pep talk and making her promise you’d tell her everything.  

As time passed you got more nervous. Around six you received a text from him telling you to wear something comfortable, along with his address. You sent a very quick response and, per his request, put on something comfortable. It would end up on the floor anyway. He didn’t live very far from you, which was lucky. You wondered if this would be a one-time thing. What would class be like now? I graduate soon anyway, you thought. If this all went south you could just forget it happened. You got to his apartment a couple of minutes before 7 and he let you up. When you got to the door you knocked twice and waited.

You’d never seen him so casual and… nervous. “Please, come in! You can put your things wherever you’d like,” he said. 

You looked around at his apartment. You could tell a professor lived there. Bookshelves lined the walls. On the dining table, there was a bottle of wine with two glasses. You put down your bag near the door. You didn’t know what to do with your hands. He noticed your apprehension. 

“Do you like wine? I got a nice Malbec after class today. Thought we could crack open a bottle.” 

“Yes, I’d like that very much.”

“Nerves?”

“Yeah.”, you confirmed.

“Me too. But, uh, there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me.”

He smiled and the tension in your body slipped away. It was replaced by a sense of calm. Jim was letting you into his home, and into his life. You sat down at the table and he removed the cord from the bottle. You watched his hands work, feeling eager to get them on you. But that had to wait, he was about to take his time. He poured you and himself a glass. You sat across from him and took a sip, hoping its effects would be immediate. 

“I’m glad you came. You know, I thought you’d think I was too old for you.” And he might’ve been. Twenty years was a healthy gap but it wasn’t anything you wouldn’t indulge in. Hell, if you could, you’d date him. 

“Not at all.” You replied. “I can’t lie, I’ve been thinking about it all year.”

“About what?”, he pushed.

“About… seeing you.”

“You can say it.” He noticed your blush. 

“I want to hear you say it.”, he egged you on.

You sighed, trying to muster up the words. “I’ve been thinking about… being with you all year.”

“And doing what?”, he took another sip of his wine and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to say it?”

“Yes.”, There was no way you would be able to admit it to him fully.

“You want your professor to fuck you. You want me to take you to my room, undress you, and take care of you better than anyone ever has.”

Your face was red. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” You drank from your glass. 

“Come here.”, he spoke softly and you got up. “Straddle me, love.” 

You sat on his lap and he looked up at you, grinning ear to ear. He brought his hand up to your neck and pulled you down to kiss him. It was brief. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. Then he kissed you again. And, again. Then, he started kissing your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan as you felt him getting hard underneath you. He kissed and nipped at your skin. His hands reached the hem of your shirt and he pulled it off before you could register it happening. Once it did, you helped him out of his. 

He tapped your ass a couple times, silently saying get up. He walked you backward and pushed you up against a nearby wall. He started removing a bra strap, but you stopped him.

“Well don’t get shy on me now.”, he chuckled. “Come.” He reached out his hand and you grabbed it. He led you down the hall to his bedroom and you sat down on the bed. You took your cues from him. As he started to lean over, you began to lay down. His hand was unhooking your bra with one hand. He was finicking with it and after a few moments, it was off. The cool air hitting your nipples caused them to rise. Jim kissed you again, then kissed down your neck, and finally put his hands on you. He licked, sucked, and grabbed your breasts. 

“You’re so beautiful. Even more gorgeous than I could have imagined. Baby, I need to taste you.” 

You wanted to protest but your pants were already coming off. Your panties followed. He groaned, “Fuck, baby, all this for me?

Before you could respond he kissed the inside of your thigh, then down, down, down until he reached your pussy. You were so wet for him already. He used his fingers first, wanting to feel you first. 

“You always get this wet for your Professor?”

“Yes.”, you responded breathlessly. His fingers were moving in and out of you. Slowly at first and then faster. He hit that perfect spot each time. Then he added his mouth. This time he didn’t go slow. He was licking and sucking on your clit. You moaned out his name and he smiled. He ate you out like his life depended on it. No one had ever done this to you. No one had ever paid this much attention to your body. You were a whimpering mess. His hand found its way back to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He then squeezed, hard, which made you load loudly. 

“Please Jim, I’m gonna cum.”, you plead. 

 He got you close to the edge and then pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of him. “Please, keep going.”

“No, if you’re gonna cum, I’m gonna be inside of you.” He took off the rest of his clothing. You moaned at the sight of him. He was right. You would never need the toy again. You couldn’t wait for him to be inside of you. He knew this and instead decided to tease you with his cock. He dragged it along you and tapped your clit the same way you did with your toy at home. Only this was a hundred times better.  

He nipped at your ear and whispered. “You really want it, huh?”

“Yes,” you begged “It’s all I want.” 

He grinned and entered you slowly and without warning. Your jaw dropped slightly. You couldn’t even make a sound, you were too busy with the feeling of him filling you up entirely. He let out a sigh and grabbed your chin.

“Look at me. Open your eyes. Look at me while I fuck you.” You did as he said. He started to pick up the pace. He was making this intimate. He caressed your face and made almost as much noise as you did. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl, following directions. Ready for another one?” You nodded. 

“Get on top. Sit down on my cock.” You started moving before he even finished his sentence. There was no room for shyness anymore. He sat up against the headboard as you sunk down on him; the new angle was doing wonders for the both of you. He thrusted up, wanting to feel more of you. He held you close to him as you began to ride him. 

“You sure know how to treat a girl, Professor.”, you said breathlessly.

He chuckled and kissed you. “You sure know how to treat your Professor. You’re being so good for me. Such a good girl.”

His hand found its way back to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles. He wanted to make sure you came first.

And you did.

It came in waves. You felt it build up and told him you were close. Then, you fell apart. You pulled him close and kissed him passionately. He wrapped his arms around you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you came. 

“That’s it, baby. So, so good for me. God, such a pretty little thing.“ He took control, holding you up and thrusting into you. The sensation was almost too much to bear. 

“Where do you want it.”, he asked.

“Inside. Please. I’m on the-“

“Are you sure, love?” You could tell he couldn’t wait any longer. 

You begged, “Yes. Yes, I am, just please cum inside me.”

And he did.

He filled you to the brim. You felt him twitch inside of you as his hips stuttered. He held onto you so tightly you were sure it would leave marks. You were both breathing hard. He stayed inside of you and held you against him. He put his forehead against yours as you regained your breath. 

He kissed you again, this time not wanting to pull away. But, you did. You pulled yourself off of him and laid down as the realization of what you did started sinking in. He lied down next to you and stared at the ceiling.

Silence. And after a few moments, you turned your head and spoke.

“So, is this it?” It came out more timid than you would have liked it to. 

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite place and after a moment he said, “Oh, love, you’re mine now.”

#jim the delinquent season x reader #jim delinquent season #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #jim delinquent season x reader #jim delinquent season x f!reader #professor!jim x reader #i proofread this but no one is perfect #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #annie writes

[moonstruckme]

Hello, I saw that your requests are open and I would like to ask for something pre-relationship with James. You could write in which the reader recently moved into a building/condominium and she needs help with something, like something that needs a specific tool or dealing with a spider and she asks her neighbor (James) for help? I think it would be something cute, like love at first sight. (I'm sorry if you don't want to write, but I saw a video like this and thought it would be cool to read something about it)

Thanks for requesting lovely!

neighbor!James x fem!reader ♡ 868 words

James almost doesn’t hear the knocking the first time. It’s hardly more than a couple of light taps, like someone might have bumped their bag into his door as they went by. Still, it gets his attention. James pauses in cutting up melon for tomorrow’s breakfast, head angling towards his front door. 

It comes again, a bit less tentative this time, and he sets down his knife, wiping his hands on a dishtowel before going to the door. 

You’re standing in the hall with your arms crossed tight against the nighttime chill that seeps into the building, wearing fuzzy slippers and what are quite clearly pajamas. You give him James a terse smile, looking somewhere between apologetic and panic-stricken. 

“Hi,” you say, at the same time as he says, “Hello.” 

Your smile blooms a bit more genuinely at that, and James is glad for it. You’re quite lovely when you look at him like that. It makes him wish he was wearing something other than his pajama bottoms or had brushed his teeth after his garlicky dinner. 

“Hi,” you say again. “Um, I’m really sorry to bother you this late, but I’ve just moved in next door and I was wondering if you could help me with something?” 

“Of course,” he agrees. No context needed. James prides himself on being neighborly, but he thinks he’d probably do just about anything you ask him to. “What is it?” 

“There’s a cockroach in my living room.” You deliver the news with a grave face, like his revoking his offer of help is predetermined. “I’ve been trying to put a cup over it for, like, twenty minutes probably, but it’s too fast and I can’t really corner it by myself.” 

“Ah.” James steps outside, closing his door behind him. “Alright, yeah, I’m sure we can take care of that. Lead the way, lovely.” 

You take a bolstering breath before stepping into your apartment, making him grin. It really is just right next to his, and this knowledge seems like a dangerous thing to have. James is going to have to start playing his music a tad lower and making sure he looks decent every time he goes outside. 

Just inside the door, there’s a broom propped against the wall. You take it up. 

“Okay,” you say, awfully serious for someone in fuzzy slippers wielding a broom, “I was thinking I’d get him into that corner there, and then you could put the cup over him.” You nod towards a cup turned facedown on the coffee table. James picks it up. Some of the determination slips from your expression, eyebrows twitching towards each other, as you look at him. “Sorry to drag you into this. I really appreciate it.” 

“It’s really fine,” James laughs. “This isn’t the first time someone has called me over to take care of a bug, and you live a lot closer than my mate did at the time.” In the period in between James and Sirius living together and Sirius moving in with Remus, his friend had forced James over to his flat at least twice a week so that he could trap spiders under cups while Sirius shrieked “Kill it! Kill it!” from atop his kitchen table. 

You grimace. “Well, it’s good to know you’ve had practice. Okay, last I saw him he was under the couch. Ready?” 

James nods, holding the cup in his hand. 

You sweep the broom tentatively underneath the couch, starting at one end at working your way to the other. Just when James is starting to come to terms with the idea that the roach has moved to an unknown location, it skitters out from that opposite end. 

You go after it with impressive grit, blocking its attempted escape underneath a nearby chair and herding it towards the corner. 

“Ready?” You don’t take your eyes from the bug for a second, but James nods anyways as he steps forward, cup held aloft. 

The roach runs into the corner, and James descends upon it. He lowers the cup quickly, not wanting the small creature to catch on and rebel against its eviction, but the thing moves quicker. 

It flies towards him. 

James makes a not-super-dignified yelping sound and trips backward, landing fortunately in the chair. You shriek and swat at it with the broom, missing by a meter. You both track the cockroach as it lands on a wall. 

“Fuck,” James breathes. He’s aware that he’s not making a great impression right now, but he feels like he’s just been attacked. “You didn’t tell me it was one of those flying ones!”

“I didn’t think it was!” You’re clutching the broom handle in a white-knuckled grip, your eyes wide. “It wasn’t doing that earlier!” 

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, it’s fine. We’ve still got this. Just, ah, if you decide you’d like to abandon this, sleep at my place, and call pest control in the morning, I’m just saying right now that’d be more than alright with me.” 

You meet his eyes. “Think I’m gonna try a bit more first, but I might take you up on that. Thanks.” 

James grins. “No worries. Always good to have a backup plan.”

#neighbor!james potter #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter scenario #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders x reader

[peachyhalstead]

married man | j. halstead

request:Can you do a Jay Halstead x Reader. They are both married and have a child together. The child just started pre-k or kindergarten and since the reader is heavily pregnant Jay has been dropping off and picking up their kid. And maybe like the single moms are flirting with Jay since they think he might be a single dad but they get surprised when the reader picks the kid one day after giving birth.

pairing: established (married) fem!reader x jay halstead

word count: 1.75k

warnings: none??

a/n: dad!jay dad!jay dad!jay !!!!! they have a little boy (his name is dylan) and a newborn girlie (what should her name be)

------

Grumbling as the alarm went off, you blindly reached over and whacked Jay on the chest. “Why’s it have to be so loud?”

Jay chuckled, silencing his phone’s alarm. “It’s not even that loud, babe.”

You glared at him through narrow eyes. “If I wasn’t about to pop right now I’d give you a piece of my mind.”

Letting out a hearty laugh, Jay got out of bed and folded his portion of the comforter back up, trapping the heat for you. “Only a few more weeks, babe. Then you’ll be able to move without having to pee every two seconds.”

You slowly followed Jay, yawning and rubbing the nine-month bump as you headed into the kitchen to package your son’s lunch.

He had recently started kindergarten, and loved telling you and Jay about all his escapades with his classmates as he learned different things.

“I could’ve done that, you didn’t have to get up.” Jay said, popping a capsule into the coffee machine and starting it.

Shrugging, you zipped the lunchbox closed and set it next to the matching blue backpack, one hand going to rub at the sore spot on your back. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fall back to sleep.”

Jay noticed, and his hands slowly made their way to the exact spot that bothered you in your first pregnancy. “Who do you thinks going to ask me out today, hm?”

Laughing softly, you clicked your tongue at Jay. “You really enjoy that, don’t you? Miss getting hit on?”

Jay shook his head. “Don’t miss it one bit. Just enjoy seeing those soccer moms think their whispers are quiet.”

A few weeks ago Jay had mentioned that some of the moms at drop-off had been talking about Jay, commenting on his lack of wedding band and no significant other ever at drop off or pick up.

“Momma, when will you go to school with me?” Dylan asked, your son finally making his appearance in his pajamas.

“Soon, little bug. Once Little Sister is here, I’ll drop you off with Daddy some days.”

Dylan frowned. “Can Sissy come now?”

You huffed, wanting nothing more than to deliver the weight that seemed to be constantly on your bladder. “I wish, but I think she needs a few more weeks.”

Jay smiled into his coffee cup, phone chiming with a text from Hailey. “Come on, Dyl. Let’s get dressed so you can show your friends your new shoes.”

Dylan beamed at the thought, and followed Jay back to his room, leaving you alone in the warm kitchen. The aroma of coffee lingered as you found a chair to rest in, hand absently tracing circles over your distended belly.

A sigh of contentment escaped you; this was your world, and despite the groggy mornings and occasional aggravations - like trying to convince Dylan to brush his teeth properly - you wouldn’t change it for anything else. That was the beauty of family - it wasn’t always perfect, but it was yours. And that made all the imperfections precious in their own odd way.

The sound of Jay's voice pulled you from your thoughts as he asked Dylan to choose between two shirts. You smiled, knowing how seriously your little boy took these morning decisions. Sipping on some water and slowly standing up, you decided to start breakfast.

The scent of eggs and bacon soon filled the room, joining the still lingering coffee aroma. Dylan would be excited; he loved his simple morning breakfasts. As you were flipping an egg, Jay returned with Dylan in tow. Their matching grins caught your eye.

“What are you two up to?” You questioned playfully, adjusting your hold on your bump.

“Nothing,” they both chimed in unison, their grins growing even wider.

“Okay,” you drew out the first syllable, grabbing a plate and moving the eggs for Dylan to eat, blowing on them as you cut them into pieces.

“Eat, then Daddy will bring you to school.” You smiled, cracking a few more eggs and grabbing a tortilla and the toppings you knew Jay liked, quickly making a breakfast wrap for him.

Wrapping it in foil, you smiled to yourself as you heard Jay helping Dylan put on his sneakers.

“Ok, we gotta go, Little Man! Go give Momma a kiss.”

Dylan skipped over to you, wrapping his little arms around your legs, promising you he’d come home with a drawing to put in the nursery.

Thanking him, you smiled at Jay as he grabbed the wrap and his badge, stopping to press a kiss to your forehead. “Take it easy today, babe.”

“I will. Go break hearts and catch perps, Jay.”

——

Jay hid his eye roll as he followed Dylan to the drop off location, ignoring the looks from the few single mothers nearby.

“I mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t grab that ass? He’s such a good dad, too.”

Jay overheard one of the mothers and shook his head, stifling a laugh. He still found it amusing and somewhat flattering to know that he was the topic of their little gossip circle. But he also knew firmly where his heart lay - at home with you and Dylan, and soon, your new little girl.

As Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, he turned to Jay with a big grin. "Daddy, do you think I can tell Mrs. Johnson about Sissy coming soon?"

Jay bent down to his level, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Of course, buddy. I'm sure she will be thrilled to hear it."

At that moment, a pair of giggling women walked by, shooting him suggestive glances over their shoulders. He merely smiled politely before turning away.

Arriving back at the car, Jay pulled out his phone and saw a text from you: Feeling better now that the house is empty. How did drop off go?

He quickly typed back: Smooth as always. He's telling all his teachers about his soon-to-be little sister.

Satisfied, he started the vehicle and headed towards the precinct. His phone chimed again with your response: That's my boy! Take care at work, Jay.

He chuckled as he imagined you grinning at your phone, feet kicked up on the coffee table even though you often chided him for doing the same thing.

——

The routine didn’t shift for the next few weeks, but the gossiping mothers were surprised when Dylan was dropped off by Will one day, Jay at the hospital where you were currently resting with the newest addition to the family.

“Uncle Will, can we see Momma and Sissy after school?” Dylan asked, tugging on his uncle’s hand.

"Of course, buddy," Will replied with a soft smile, watching as Dylan's face lit up with joy. "I bet they can't wait to see you."

Once Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, Will indulged in a moment of silence. He was used to the emergency room's relentless noise and bustle, so the unfamiliar hush of the school yard in the early morning was a welcome respite. A group of mothers were huddled together, shooting glances his way. Perhaps he was becoming part of their gossip routine now too - he silently hoped otherwise.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Jay could barely tear his gaze away from you sleeping peacefully, the tiny bundle in his arms a testament to your strength and love. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight; you looked more beautiful than ever, your face radiating an exhausted but blissful glow as your daughter, their daughter, clung onto his finger with her small hand.

Just then, she stirred awake and let out a soft whimper which turned into a loud wail. He quickly got up and started to gently rock her, not wanting her cries to disturb your much-needed rest.

“Hey there, little princess,” he cooed softly as he bounced her gently in his arms. “Let’s not wake Mommy up now.”

After a few minutes of gentle rocking and hushed lullabies - Jay trying his best to remember the ones you sung to Dylan when he was an infant, the baby quieted down, blue eyes peering up at her father.

“Hi, munchkin. You already have half of Chicago’s first responders wrapped around your finger.” He whispered, soft smile at his lips as he thought back to the replies from his team when he sent the photo of the baby in the group chat.

"The other half is itching to meet you. Just wait until Uncle Will gets a hold of you. You're going to be spoiled rotten." He laughed softly, mindlessly tracing a finger over his daughter's tiny forehead.

His phone buzzed where he had left it on the bedside table. It was a message from Will letting him know that Dylan had been dropped off at school and asking if they could come by after school to see the baby.

Jay's heart swelled, even more, knowing his son was equally excited about his little sister's arrival. Jay quickly typed a response, assuring Will they would be more than happy to have visitors later in the day.

——

The day passed in a flurry of nurses checking vitals and bringing meals, phone calls from family and friends, and quiet moments spent marveling over their newest addition. Dylan was bursting with energy when Will brought him by after school, his wide eyes taking in everything with an infectious excitement that had everyone in the room smiling.

"Momma, Sissy is really small!" Dylan whispered in awe as he approached the bed, carefully peering over the edge of the bassinet.

You chuckled at his innocent observation as Jay helped him climb up onto the bed to get a better look. "Yes, she is," you agreed with a fond smile. "You were that small, too, Little Man!”

Dylan looked at you with wide eyes, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh!”

“Mhmm!” You replied, fixing his shirt as he squirmed to get another look at his sister.

“When can you and Sissy come to school?” He asked, looking at you.

Jay laughed quietly, and you looked at your husband. “Soon, Dyl.”

——

Two weeks later, you consoled the crying baby as Jay helped Dylan put his backpack on. “Can Sissy come meet Mrs. Johnson?”

Shaking your head, you carefully strapped the little girl into her carrier, softly rubbing her cheek. “Not yet. Maybe during the spring concert, but she’s still too little.”

Jay stood up and grabbed his keys. “She can help Momma and Daddy drop you off, though. That sound good?”

Dylan’s face lit up at the thought. “Yeah! Everyone will get to see her!” He jumped excitedly before Jay guided him out the door.

Satisfied with your successful early morning, you carried the baby carrier to the car and buckled it in securely at the back seat. Moving around was still a little tough for you but you were slowly getting the hang of things. You climbed into the passenger side, glancing back at Dylan who was squirming in his seat with anticipation.

The drive to the school was filled with Dylan's non-stop chatter about what he was going to show his little sister. Jay had a soft smile on his face as he listened to his son, occasionally glancing at you in admiration and shared joy.

Once they arrived in front of the school, Dylan unbuckled himself and carefully opened your car door for you. “Be careful, Momma!” He cautioned, making Jay chuckle as he followed behind with his son’s backpack.

You smiled, letting Jay go ahead with Dylan so he wasn’t late, working to unstrap your daughter’s carrier so Dylan could see her one last time before he was in school.

“Jay, haven’t seen you the last few days. Is everything okay?” One of the mothers who had tried to hit on Jay asked, faux worry on her face.

Jay wore a smile as he turned to the woman, Dylan's hand tucked safely in his own as they made their way toward the school entrance. "Yeah, everything’s great, actually. My wife just gave birth to our second child," he responded casually, nodding his head towards the car where you were carefully lifting the baby carrier.

The woman blinked in surprise before offering a tight-lipped smile, "Oh, I didn’t know... congratulations."

"Thanks," Jay replied with a nod before turning his attention back to Dylan whose bundle of excitement was barely contained. As Jay opened the door for him to enter he looked into the bright eyes of his son and smiled reassuringly, "You ready?"

Dylan nodded eagerly, already tugging on his father's hand to drag him inside. Jay followed docilely, striding up the hallway towards Dylan's classroom.

Meanwhile, you were still out by the car, struggling slightly with the baby carrier that seemed to weigh even more than your now two-week-old daughter. A few mothers noticed and stepped forward to help you, their faces lighting up at the sight of the infant bundled up against the cold.

"Oh she's absolutely adorable!" One woman cooed, and you recognized her from when Jay was telling you how one of them started to wear low-cut tops after he started doing drop off duty.

You walked with them to the doors, smile brightening when you saw Jay and Dylan at the door, the young boy wanting to say goodbye to his sister.

“Bye, Sissy! Bye, Momma!” Dylan smiled, giving his sister a kiss and hugging your legs, unaware that his farewells caused the mothers who had walked with you to gasp lightly.

Jay’s smile widened at Dylan's display of affection, ruffling his son's hair gently, "Alright, champ. We’ll pick you up later. Have a great day at school."

Dylan nodded eagerly before disappearing into the bustling school building with his teacher. The remaining mothers turned to you, their surprised expressions replaced by warm, slender smiles as they admired your little girl.

Back in the car, you laughed as Jay started the ignition. “Think I felt the daggers from some of the moms when they found out you’re married.”

Jay snorted, turning back to the road to your house. “Well, that or when they found out we have great sex. Either way, watch your back, babe.”

You gawked at Jay’s remark, hitting him in the chest. “Jay! Your daughter is listening!”

“Oh, she’ll hear worse when Ruz babysits her." ------ a/n: send requests if you wanna!!

#jay halstead x fem!reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd #one chicago

[nathaslosthershit]

Baby Fever and Annoying Brothers||Quinn Hughes x Reader

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Reader

Request: Could I get Quinn Hughes with baby fever and his brothers there to make fun of it?

Summary: Quinn gets baby fever real bad and his brothers bug him to propose

A/n: Listen I wasn’t a Quinn girly before but that has recently changed so thank you for these requests

Word Count: 700+

“Quinn, dude, come on let's go.” Luke complained. The brothers had been trying to start a basketball game for the past 45 minutes. Jack and Luke were ready, but Quinn kept pushing it off with a simple ‘5 more minutes then i'll be ready’.

What, you may ask, was keeping Quinn from playing a game with his family? The sight of his girlfriend interacting with the baby of a family friend of theirs. It was quite possibly the most addicting and adorable sight he has ever seen. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of it, no matter how hard he tried. The whole scene was beautiful. Outside, on the lawn chairs in the backyard, laid his girlfriend of 4 years gently swaying a now sleeping infant in her arms as she quietly spoke to the baby’s mother as well as his own mom. 

“Quinn this is getting-” Jack was cut off when he saw it. His older brother sitting there, oblivious to the heart eyes he was making. It was hilarious to him. His big brother practically brought to his knees at the sight of his longtime girlfriend holding a baby. 

As he stood next to Luke, Quinn finally was pulled out of his trance. Embarrassed at his brother's gawking, he finally went to play basketball. 

But of course the two youngest Hughes couldn’t just not bring it up. It was their brotherly duty to chirp Quinn into his place.

“So when are you gonna actually purpose?” Jack asked. At this, Luke elbowed him in the side, hard. 

“Come on dude let him live” Luke reprimanded.

“Thank you, Luke.” Quinn responded.

“No but seriously, he is right. You spend almost an hour staring at your girlfriend for holding a fucking baby. I know you’ve got a bad case of baby fever after that. When are you gonna actually get started on that shit? Unless you don’t plan on going the whole marital route before kids. I don't’ really know how some people would thi-”

“Can you both please just shut the fuck up about it.”

“Come on, Quinn, we are just chirping you. Although we saw the way you were looking at her. You sure that hasn’t changed anything…” Jack teased. 

He was right of course. While he was staring, he was also envisioning a life with her. A life with his beautiful wife, in a beautiful home, with kids to fill it. Maybe they’d have one, or maybe a whole hockey team. Who’s to say? The last thing he wanted though, was to be discussing it with his brothers when they would just tease him.

“No, nothing has changed. Although things may happen sooner-” “What the fuck does that mean?” Luke asked.

“I just- I don’t need kids right this second.” Quinn stated.

“But?”

“But I do have a ring. I’ve kept it in my hockey bag for the last few months. I just- I just don’t know when I’m gonna propose.”

“Quinn why the fuck didn’t you tell us?” Jack practically yelled.

“Does mom know? She will flip the fuck out if you got it and didn’t tell her?” Luke asked.

“Yes, she knows. She has been bugging me about it every single day. Trying to give me ideas and such but I just need to find the right time and place.”

“Isn’t now the right time and place though? You are with family, in a pretty fucking beautiful place. I mean what's stopping you from taking her on the boat tomorrow and doing it.” Jack joked. But he was right. You had once stated, while intoxicated, that you would have killed Quinn if he proposed in public, as if that was something he would ever do. The secluded boat would be the perfect place.

Quinn smiled to himself as he came to this revelation. He would propose, soon, and get started on the life he had envisioned. He didn’t answer either of them or tell them about his plans, but one look at his face and his brothers knew. They both shared a look as their absolutely smitten older brother went to grab the ball.

#nhl imagine #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader

[sugarcoated-lame]

Lost and Found | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Single Dad!Bradley x Reader

Part One of my Single dad!Bradley miniseries | part two | library blog

*all my works are 18+, minors DNI

Summary: When Bradley’s four-year old daughter goes missing during a trip to the mall, he doesn’t expect to find himself so taken with the pretty stranger who helps her find her way back to him.

WC: 3.6K

Warnings: I suck at titling my stories and summaries :), a bit of angst, mentions of pregnancy and abandonment, (briefly) missing child, mentions of anxiety/panic attack, but then so much fluff, Bradley’s kid being too cute for her own good, implied age gap, I feel like dilf Bradley needs his own warning

a/n: I wrote this months ago and I’m a bit nervous to share, but the response to the teaser was so amazing (thank you <3) and dilf Bradley lives in my head rent-free, so I’m excited about this one! Also the picture on the right just screams dad Bradley to me! Thank you for reading, as always I’d love to hear your feedback, so please leave a comment/reblog <3

• • •

Bradley directs his gaze away from the rack of little girls’ clothes he’d been perusing, injecting enthusiasm into his voice as he holds up a hanger with a small, baby pink t-shirt dress hanging on it. “Hey, Bug. What do you think of this–?” 

He cuts himself off before the end of his question when he realizes that he’s talking to no one. “Where did she…?” 

He trails off, brows furrowed. Still holding up the child-sized dress that looks especially tiny next to his large frame, Bradley spins around, perplexed. She was just here.

- - - 

Bradley’s daughter, Caroline, who’d just recently turned four— and was growing up way too fast for his liking— was set to begin preschool next week. His little girl was growing right before his eyes and she needed a new wardrobe to accommodate that. So, Bradley had taken her to the mall to buy some new clothes for school. He didn’t know the first thing about little girls’ fashion, but he was sure he could manage.

He’d spent the last hour searching through clothing rack after clothing rack in the girl’s section of a department store, Caroline at his side, lips in a pout and shaking her little head ‘no’ at all of his choices, sandy brown curls bobbing along with her every movement. Bradley could tell the four-year old was getting bored, and he was becoming frustrated.

The buzzing of his phone with a text from Maverick granted him a brief reprieve from his predicament.

“One second, honey.” Bradley sighed, affectionately patting the top of his daughter’s head before looking toward his phone to answer some question Mav had about work.

He was happy for a moment’s distraction from getting ready to tear his hair out wondering if he was going to have to send his daughter to her first day of preschool wearing a trash bag because he didn’t know what the hell kind of clothes he’s supposed to buy for a picky four-year old girl.

Bradley had been a single parent for most of his daughter’s life. He and Caroline’s mother, Amber, had only been seeing each other for the better half of a year when they found out the news that they were expecting. And even then, their relationship was never really official.

The two met not long after the Uranium Mission, while Bradley was still on North Island taking some time to relax and awaiting another assignment. He’d gone to the little diner Amber was waitressing at, he thought she was cute and they’d hit it off straight away. Bradley got her number and the rest was history.

The Navy kept Bradley busy. He was always traveling for some assignment or deployments – sometimes gone for months at a time, so they only saw each other on the rare occasions he was in town. 

They’d hang out and hook up, maybe go on a date here and there, a sort of friends-with-benefits situation. There was definitely a sense of care between Bradley and Amber, but the lack of time they were able to spend together meant it never went beyond that.

When they learned that Amber was pregnant, they both knew it wouldn’t be easy. But they thought that, together, they could make it work.

A few months after Caroline was born though, Amber admitted that she couldn’t handle things.

Bradley took to being a father so easily. From the moment their baby was born and she looked up at him with those big, honey brown eyes that matched his own, he knew that he’d do absolutely anything for her. Caroline instantly became his world.

Amber, on the other hand, really struggled. She loved her baby of course, but deep down she wasn’t sure she was ready to be a mother. If she’d ever be. 

She figured it was better if she’d gone while Caroline was still young enough that she wouldn’t remember her, and knew that their daughter would be just fine in Bradley’s loving hands. And just like that, she left the both of them.

Bradley resented Amber for a while, but in time he came to understand. Not everyone was meant to be a parent. Besides that, he knew that there was no time for resentment. 

He was on his own with a four-month old baby and he needed to put all of his energy into taking care of her. So, he requested a more permanent position at Top Gun so that he could stay in one place to raise his daughter, and it’s been just the two of them ever since.  

 - - - 

Bradley couldn’t have been turned around for more than thirty seconds before he pocketed his phone and reached back out to grab the little pink dress off the rack to show his daughter. But, when he turned back, Caroline was nowhere to be seen.

Ok, don’t panic, Bradley tells himself. She can’t have gone far.  

“Caroline?” He calls out calmly, eyes darting around the surrounding area as he spins to look in every direction.

When he doesn’t receive a response, Bradley puts down the dress he was holding and begins to walk among the sea of clothing racks, still calling out his daughter’s name.

He searches the entire girl’s section of the store without success and decides to broaden his search, his heart beginning to speed up in his chest. Ok, he’s starting to panic.

Bradley picks up his pace, maneuvering from one section of the store to another, asking the other customers and few employees that mill about if they’ve seen his daughter. 

He knows he must look crazed, practically sprinting, his sneakers squeaking as he moves across the shiny floors as his repeated calls of Caroline’s name become increasingly more frantic — panting and on the verge of tears by the time he’s finished searching the entirety of the large department store to no avail.

Bradley stands frozen in the middle of the store, tears pricking his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly on the brink of hyperventilating. He’s at a loss for what to do. His mind racing through all of the worst scenarios. What if she’s hurt? What if someone took her? 

It’s his job to protect his little girl and make sure that she’s always safe, and he failed her. He’s all that Caroline has, and he feels like a failure of a father.

- - -

You’re walking through the busy mall with a couple of bags in hand, all finished with your shopping and ready to head home when you see her. 

A little girl — tiny really, she can’t be older than five — with curls a golden shade bordering between both blonde and brown, standing by the bottom of the escalator, alone. 

Playing with her little fingers as she looks around the crowd aimlessly with unshed tears in her big, brown eyes. The scared look on her adorable little face breaks your heart, and you know you can’t leave without making sure she’s okay.

You approach her slowly, as if she were a frightened animal that might bolt at any moment, speaking softly so as not to scare her any further. “Hey, honey. Are you alright?”

The look she gives you is a shy one, eyes widening before she looks down at her light-up sneakers and shakes her head. 

You can tell the little girl is apprehensive about talking to a stranger — smart.

Kneeling down to be at her eye-level before speaking again, and setting your shopping bags down at your sides, you tell her your name and ask for hers.

“I’m Caroline.” Her voice is sweet and shy, a near-whisper as she chances a glance up at you, eyes still shining with tears when she lifts her head.

“Are you here alone, Caroline? Are you with your mommy and daddy?” You ask her gently.

She shakes her head again, curls swaying along with the motion.  “I was with my daddy, but I lost him.”

The adorable pout on her lips might’ve made you smile, if it weren’t for the tears that follow, finally spilling from her eyes and trailing down onto her rosy cheeks.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I can help you find him!” You soothe as your thumb moves to brush her tears away. “Where did you last see him?”

Caroline sniffles and thinks for a moment before speaking, a little bit louder this time.

“We were buying me clothes for preschool in one of the big stores, and my daddy had to answer the phone so I was looking all by myself. And then I got lost and I couldn’t find him.”

You continue to wipe at Caroline’s tears as she talks in that rambling sort of way that all little kids do.

“Preschool, wow. That sounds fun!” You try to take her mind off of the scary situation for a second and she nods excitedly at that, still sniffling. “What’s your daddy’s name?”

Her tears finally begin to slow as she talks about her dad.

“His name’s Bradley, but everybody calls him Rooster! He flies planes!” Caroline explains excitedly. 

You can’t help but chuckle as you tell her that her dad has a funny nickname, and that his job sounds fun. You’re happy to see Caroline give you a small smile back.

“Do you remember what store you and your daddy were shopping in?”

She has to think for a long moment, the most adorable, pensive pout you’ve ever seen on her face as she tries to remember.

She doesn’t know the name of the store, but she is able to describe it for you, and you’re able to make a distinction from there.

Standing back to your full height, you readjust your bags on one arm and extend your free hand out towards Caroline, offering her a reassuring smile.  

“I know exactly where that is! Ready to go find him?” Caroline grins as she takes your hand with an excited nod, tears no longer visible in her big brown eyes.

The two of you walk on in search of her dad — Bradley, and Caroline talks your ear off the whole way. She is absolutely adorable, telling you more about herself and asking you questions about yourself too, and you find yourself falling more in love with her sweet disposition by the minute. 

Within five minutes, you make it to the store that Caroline had been in last, hopeful to reunite her with her father who you figure must be worried sick.

- - -

Bradley isn’t quite sure how long he’s been scouring the massive department store looking for his four-year old daughter— though it feels like forever, time seeming to move in slow motion— on the brink of a panic attack and just about ready to phone the police when he hears a familiar high-pitched shriek of, “DADDY!”

He turns around at lightning speed — and practically gives himself whiplash — to see Caroline approaching him, holding a woman’s hand. 

When she lets go and bounds right towards him, Bradley lets out a massive sigh of relief. Kneeling down to catch his little girl in his arms, he feels like he might cry all over again, overcome with a flurry of emotions now that his daughter is safe in his embrace once again.

“Caroline, baby, you scared me half to death!” Bradley can’t keep the emotion out of his voice as he lifts his daughter into his arms and stands back up to his full height, lying his head atop of hers and squeezing her tight. “You can’t just wander off like that, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

He tries his best not to sound angry — she is only four after all, and he’s just thankful that she’s okay. Caroline’s arms wrap around his neck as he holds her tight, her face burrowing into the crook of Bradley’s neck.

“Daddy, I’m fine!” She insists. “And I made a new friend!” 

It’s only then that Bradley looks up at the woman who had reunited him with his little girl, standing a few feet away and watching them with a sweet smile.

Oh. It’s only then that he realizes, you are beautiful. 

Bradley’s honestly convinced you might be an angel. Pretty, bright eyes and a glowing sweet smile that nearly takes his breath away. And, you’d been kind enough to help his daughter safely find her way back to him.

Bradley just stares for a moment, lips parted and still holding Caroline in his arms, and he hopes that you’ll chalk it up to the overwhelming nature of the situation.

“Uh– thank you so much for bringing Caroline back to me. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” He rushes out, hand cradling the back of his baby’s hair. “I-I’m…” Fuck, why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

“…Bradley,” You finish for him. “Or, Rooster. Right?”

His brows furrow, a pensive look on his very handsome face, a look that you realize matches the one you had seen on his daughter’s face earlier. Cute.  

“How did you-” He begins to question how you know his name — and call-sign — but is promptly cut off by his four-year old practically screaming in his ear.

“I told her, Daddy!” Caroline exclaims proudly.  

For a man called ‘Rooster’, you sure were not expecting Caroline’s dad to be this good looking. But, fuck, is he hot.

Though he’s clearly got a few years on you, Bradley’s all tall and sun-kissed, tan skin. Broad shoulders and big, muscular arms on display in his fitted black t-shirt while he holds up his little girl, sandy curls a shade or two darker than hers. Whiskey-colored eyes that match his daughter’s, that you can only describe as puppy dog eyes. 

His deep, husky voice that sends tingles down your spine and beautifully shaped pink lips framed by a mustache that you’re surprised you find so attractive.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of help.” You hope that he can’t see the flush you can feel blooming on your cheeks as you speak. “And, Caroline was great company!”

You wink at the little girl who giggles against his shoulder, and when Bradley smiles at you graciously, you can’t help but smile back. God, his smile is pretty.

Up in his arms, Caroline gets distracted playing with her dad's curls. There are a few moments of silence between you, though not uncomfortable, before Bradley speaks up again.

“Well, thank you again. I–uh,” Bradley clears his throat. 

“I guess we should let you go. We’ve gotta find some clothes for this little troublemaker, otherwise she’ll have to go to school wearing a garbage bag.” Bradley jokes in a playful tone, bouncing his daughter around in his arms as she giggles, and you can’t help but laugh too at the infectious sound.

“Daddy, wait!” Caroline shouts out before you can answer him.

“What is it, little bug?” Bradley murmurs as he strokes a hand lovingly over her curls. Caroline turns in his hold, directing her next question toward you.

“Can you come with us?” Oh, her puppy dog eyes are even cuter than Bradley’s, and you imagine he probably has a hard time ever saying no to her. “Daddy has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to girl clothes.”

You can’t contain the giggle that escapes your lips as Caroline dramatically rolls her eyes and Bradley lets out an offended huff, the two of them staring at each other with matching, petulant pouts. Adorable.

“That is not true!” Bradley practically shrieks at his daughter and it only makes you laugh more.

“And, honey, she probably doesn’t want–” Bradley begins to protest before you interject.

“I’d love to.” You chime in with a coy grin and Bradley looks back at you, bewildered.

Sure, you figure he probably has a beautiful wife waiting for him at home, but what’s the harm in spending just a little more time with a handsome pilot and his adorable daughter? So far, you’re having a lot of fun.

Bradley’s brows furrow skeptically. “Are you…sure?”

You purse your lips, staring up toward the ceiling for a moment as if you really need to think about it before you grin and offer him a one-shouldered shrug. “Yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.” 

You hope you don’t seem too eager, but the matching smiles you receive from both Bradley and Caroline tell you they don’t mind.

Bradley’s honestly a bit shocked that you— a pretty, young, complete stranger, want to stick around to hang out with him and his kid, but he isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

So, once you assure him again that you’re happy to stay, he sets Caroline back on her feet and offers — more like insists — that he holds your shopping bags, and the three of you set off to peruse the oh-so daunting girl’s clothing section of the store once again.

Bradley watches in awe as Caroline grabs your hand, tugging you along as you help her pick out some articles of clothing.

The two of you chatter the whole time, bringing him into the conversations too, holding up articles of clothing and asking what he thinks, and Bradley is delighted to see how good you are with his daughter.

“This would look pretty on you!” Caroline holds out a little girl’s purple sweater dress in your direction. “Wouldn’t it, Daddy?” 

You’re biting back a grin as Bradley looks to you and then back to his daughter and chuckles.

“I don’t think it comes in her size, Bug.” Bradley’s gaze returns to you, mirth in his eyes when he continues, “But yeah, it would look very pretty.” 

You know he can see the obvious flush to your cheeks this time as his lips pull up into a smirk. 

Shaking your head, you look back down to Caroline with a grin. “I think it’d look even prettier on your dad.” That pulls a giggle out of both of them. 

Things go on like that as the three of you continue to shop, Bradley admiring how sweet and funny you are, how patient you are with his daughter.

The two of you discreetly sharing amused looks at some of the obscure things Caroline says that could only come out of a little kid’s mouth, banter coming easily between the three of you. 

After a short while, Caroline has an array of new outfits for school— and a new stuffed animal after some begging and very convincing puppy dog eyes from his four-year old while you stood by and tried not to giggle, and Bradley knows that he wants to get to know you more.

He hasn’t done much in the way of dating since becoming a single father. Aside from the simple lack of time, Bradley’s always been afraid that most women won’t want to stick around when they find out he has a kid.

That they might not get along with his daughter or worse, be upset when they realize that Caroline will always be his number one priority. 

Too scared to let his daughter get attached to someone only for them to leave, Caroline is his world and he’s been content with that. 

But now, after seeing the way you are with his little girl — and in such a short time, he can’t help but think that he already likes you being a part of it.

With the clothing shopping done, the sun is setting by the time you're all ready leave the mall. Bradley and Caroline walk you out to your car, and both are reluctant to say goodbye to you just yet. You can't say you’re too happy to part with them either. 

As he helps you put your bags in the trunk of your car, Bradley knows he needs to take his shot now — or as Hangman likes to tell him, he needs to get off his perch.

“Hey, could I possibly get your number?” Bradley asks, trying to sound as confident as his voice can possibly muster. “I’d love to see you again.”

Caroline pipes up from next to you, jumping up and down while she still holds your hand. “Me too!”

Is he asking you out? The breathless laugh you let out is one of shock, and you’re sure the look on your face matches as you glance between the adorable father-daughter duo.

You’re also sure that you’re blushing again.

For a moment, you can only stand frozen, lips parted, and when you realize you’ve yet to answer his question, you promptly close your mouth and attempt to school your features, quickly nodding your head.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You tell him shyly, and Bradley can’t help but smirk at the color that’s begun to paint your cheeks. 

He hands over his phone and tries not to smile too hard as you type in your number, glancing up at him and biting back your own grin while you send yourself a text so that you’d have his too.

You kneel down to squeeze Caroline into a hug, the little girl happily wrapping her arms around your neck. You leave her with a promise that you’ll see them again soon, though the way you look up at her father over her shoulder lets Bradley know that that promise is directed at the both of them. 

When you stand, Bradley gazes at you with a thoughtful smile before bringing you into a hug too.

“Have a good night, sweetheart.” The deep rumble of his voice so close to your ear, as well as the heat of his touch, leave your body feeling warm all over. That warmth never fading even as you watch Bradley and Caroline cross the parking lot, hand-in-hand, to get to their car.

Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t mind seeing him again soon. 

- - -

Thank you for reading! Leave a comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! x

Part 2 will be up next Wednesday! <3

UPDATE: you can read part two here ! ❤️

tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @simonscumsock

also tagging some people who reblogged/replied to the sneak peek : @fanficfandomlove @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @maverick-wingman @teacupsandtopgun @katiemcrae @colourfulsuitwonderland @becks-things @bradshawsbaddie @bradshawsbitch @valhallaas @roger-that-cap @woodkiller

. . .

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #top gun fic #miles teller #dad bradley #single dad bradley #my writing

[idolomantises]

First question, will we be seeing Asmodeus and Lilith again soon? Second question! Do you have a favourite redesign and who was the hardest to redesign?

Yes!

I think my Beelzebub redesign is my favorite. I really love drawing bugs in general and it was really fun trying to rework her design to look more bee-like and less… furry. I actually liked the design so much I decided to repurpose it for my own character who’s Beelzebub’s daughter. She’s not as nice as Helluva’s Bee, very Regina George lol.

I actually got really excited working on her. I just love designing bugs and demons so getting a chance to do both was very enjoyable for me. I actually had even MORE sketches planned for her but I realized I was getting way too involved redesigning a character, so some concepts just became my own thing. Like I was like “I don’t mind that Beelzebub is nice, but she doesn’t feel like a Sin at all”, so I had some bonus sketches of her being like that really cool but toxic friend who just keeps enabling you.

Hardest to redesign though? God. Maybe Angel Dust? In fact even after my most recent redesign I’ve never really been fully happy with (it was very rushed compared to nifty). I enjoy doing Hazbin/Helluva redesigns but one major issue I have with these characters is that they’re WAAAAAY too bloated story wise, and Angel dust might be the worst example of this. Like fitting a drag queen, sex worker, celebrity and mafia boss into one character is a bit of a challenge because you basically have to look at Angel dust and understand all those things about him.

Maybe I’ll do a fifth one if I ever do Hazbin redesigns again LOL, but likely not. I always planned to stop early but the fandom kind of solidified it. These stop being fun knowing that there are people who monitorsmy account waiting for my next redesign to drop so they can harass me and tell me to kill myself. Not fun! I’d rather draw other things.

(Also to be clear, even if the fandom was really nice to me, I still would have stopped. The creator’s constant controversy was the main reason I quit and only did Nifty and Angel Dust after a request. But the fandom meltdown was the nail in the already deep and buried coffin)

#ask quill

[bangtanficsforyou]

They Reject You (maknae line)-03

Pairing: maknae line x reader (fuckboi! Jimin x Reader, Co-worker Taehyung x Reader, Idol Jungkook x Reader)

Warnings: swear words here and there.

Word count: 20K (approx)

A/N: long long long asf! (There's author's note at the bottom too).

Park Jimin

Jimin may have been very determined while pledging that he will make things right but right now, he's utterly confused and clueless. 

How exactly does he make things right?

If he were to go by the way movies suggest, he should be sending you chocolates and bouquets of flowers. But the question is, will that do? Will that be enough? Can hurting someone emotionally be fixed by something material?

He doesn't know.

Oh, that's another thing. In recent days, Jimin's mind has been throwing questions at him which he has no answers to. Which, needless to mention, has been frustrating him to no end.

He feels like there's a lot he needs to figure out before taking any action. Because lord knows he doesn't want to mess up again and given his history he has a habit of doing exactly that over and over again. 

The question that has been bugging him the most is; why does he even want to fix things with you? 

It's a question Jimin wholeheartedly avoids thinking about. Because he doesn't have an answer and thinking about this particular question makes him feel a little too uncomfortable.

However, to him, the question also feels like a big empty blank that he needs to fill in order to make sense of what he should do next. Almost as if, if he figures out this one thing, he will have all his answers. 

Which again, doesn't make sense to him. How can figuring out one thing give answers to the rest? But again, he should begin somewhere. Which obviously isn't going to be answering the big question.

Hence he does what he has been doing for the past few days; searching for ways to apologise on YouTube.

It's quite obvious that his YouTube searches haven't been very successful. But in his defence, it isn't Jimin's fault. It's YouTube's.

Almost every video that YouTube suggests as a response to his search, has this implication that the girl being apologised to, is the lover of the person seeking forgiveness.  

Huh? 

But that's so not the case. You're not his lover.

At some point, Jimin got so frustrated that he went on a mini rant to Taehyung, about how this is the 21st century and how a boy and girl need not always have a romantic relationship. And it's while he's ranting via text that he is hit by the brilliant idea of inviting Taehyung over. After all, if there's someone who's better than Jimin when it comes to the ladies, it's Taehyung. 

Half an hour later, Jimin couldn't rush to the door any faster when the bell rang. 

Taehyung greets the troubled boy with a scoff of disbelief. "Never seen you this excited over my arrival, ever."

Jimin is the least bit interested in paying attention to his best friend's teasing. "You gotta help me. It's already been three days and I haven't been able to figure anything out."

"It's about making up to that girl, right?" On receiving a nod from Jimin, Taehyung continues, "What was her name again?"

"Y/N."

"Right, Y/N," Taehyung makes a note to himself, having a hunch it's a name he will hear quite often. "So where exactly are you stuck?" 

Jimin leads his friend to the couch so that Taehyung can have a look at the screen. "Just look at the results. There are literally thousands of responses but not one that's of use. What's the point of having internet if it can't help you when you need?!"

Taehyung snickers. "Yeah, you did go on a half an hour rant about it via text."

Jimin huffs at the way Taehyung seems to not share the same level of frustration as him. But alas, maybe him being in a light mood is a good thing after all. That way Taehyung can think optimally and come up with a solution and then Jimin can finally have a good night's sleep. 

Gosh when Jimin thinks about it, it sends shivers down his spine. He really needs to sleep. 

"Great! You know all about it, so now get on with it," Jimin speaks with a firm nod of determination and turns his body ninety degrees so that he is entirely facing Taehyung. 

And then just keeps staring. 

Taehyung stares back for a second or two and then bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard, that his ears miss the questions Jimin throws his way, querying about the cause of his laughter. He laughs so hard, that he has to place a pillow against his stomach because it has started hurting. He laughs so hard that it takes him a total of five minutes to stop. 

When he does stop laughing, he utters a sentence that sends Jimin into a similar laughter fit. 

"You're so in love."

Or maybe wait. 

Jimin doesn't laugh. 

Jimin blinks at Taehyung blankly and then scoffs in annoyance. Taehyung can't be serious. "I can't believe you're in the mood of making jokes when I'm so stressed."

"Oh, I can assure you, I'm not joking," Taehyung shakes his head with a chuckle, denying Jimin's words. "You're definitely in love."

Jimin pauses. He doesn't like how sure Taehyung seems to be of his words. It makes Jimin realise that Taehyung isn't joking. Taehyung really thinks Jimin is in love. 

Huh. 

"Don't you think I'd know if I was in love?" 

Taehyung snorts. "Clearly not."

Now Jimin's curious. "What makes you so sure of your words?"

"Hmm, let's think for a moment," Taehyung responds, pretending to think deeply for a moment. "You have been worried sick, haven't been behaving like yourself and are throwing tantrums like a five-year-old kid. All because a girl hasn't been talking to you–"

"That could simply mean she's a very good friend to me," Jimin counters even before Taehyung can finish his sentence. 

"Well, you don't kiss your friends while drunk." 

Jimin shuts up at that, not because he agrees with Taehyung's statement but because he needs a moment to figure out what to reply to that. He needs to think of something that is a justifiable reason for why he had kissed you in his drunken state of mind. 

Unfortunately, the best he comes up with is; "I didn't know what I was doing. I was drunk. Plus, me kissing someone shouldn't be news, drunk or not." 

Taehyung nods. "Right, that's your thing. Kissing and sleeping around."

For the first time in his life, Jimin feels an odd sensation in his chest at the mention of his player lifestyle. He can't place why (another thing he can't figure out, yes) but for the first time he wishes these words were not used to describe him. But admittedly, that's who he is. It's only normal to describe him by who he is. 

Jimin keeps quiet as a sign of letting Taehyung know that he can go on. 

"But surprisingly enough, since Y/N has stopped talking to you, you haven't fooled around with anyone," Taehyung squints his eyes, looking like a detective who's trying to solve a complicated riddle. "Wonder why that might be." 

Jimin misses the sarcastic tone completely because he's taken aback by his friend's words. It's only now that he realises that he indeed, has not fooled around with anyone in the last week or so. 

It's true that he has been going to parties and have been getting drunk and have been doing what he usually does. Except for one thing, it seems. Hooking up. 

Oddly enough, the thought of hooking up with someone didn't even occur to him. It's not like he restrained himself or something. It's like he forgot that aspect of his life, entirely. 

What the fuck.

Taehyung silently watches the realisation play out on Jimin's face. It's entertaining, to say the least. His sweet fuckboy of a friend is in love and has zero clue about it. How sweet. 

He only hopes Jimin comes to his senses while this denial is still sweet and not when it's all bitter and sour. But looking at the way Jimin is struggling, one thing is for sure and that is, he isn't going to get his 'happy realisation' just yet. 

"Your bulb will take time to light up," Taehyung interrupts Jimin's thoughts, "Let me just help you with the apologising thing."

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

Jimin has been standing in front of your door for five minutes now. With a huge flower bouquet at that. Because according to Taehyung:

"It's not what you give that matters, it's the thought you put into it. It could be flowers, it could be chocolates–yes I know, at the end of the day they are mere materials. But what's wrong with that?

You've gotta start somewhere. What's important is that you show her that you have realised your mistake, you're sorry and that you'd never do something like that ever again. Sending gifts is not all. It might not earn you her forgiveness but it shows that you're trying and that's something." 

Hence, despite not considering sending gifts as an option at first, here Jimin is, doing exactly that. But then it's not like he could come up with a better idea himself and he thinks Taehyung is right, he should at least start somewhere. 

But he wanted to make it as meaningful as he could. Which is why he did a little research and showed up here himself. He needs to do just one last thing, press the calling bell. 

He sighs and tells himself that there's no point in delaying it, the sooner he does it, the better. Plus, it only means that he will be able to see you after another three-day stretch. 

The thought of seeing you again, does it for him. He presses the bell and with a bated breath, waits for you to open the door. 

Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait long. You swing the door open and Jimin is relieved that your reaction on seeing him is that of surprise and not that of disdain. He would have run in the opposite direction and would have been too ashamed to face you had that been the case. 

Despite not running away, Jimin seems to have lost his capability to talk, for all he does is stare at your face. It gets to the point where you have to be the one to ask him what he's doing at your doorstep. 

Jimin looks away as soon as he snaps out of it and remembers what he's here for. He still doesn't speak and just pushes the bouquet in his hands towards you and urges you to take it. 

It's not like you hadn't noticed the bouquet, it's unmissable really. It's this big, gorgeous arrangement of pink roses and the lighting of the hallway falls on the flowers in a way that makes it look like a portrait. When Jimin tries handing over the bouquet to you, you're once again taken by surprise and out of instinct you take hold of the bouquet without a second thought. 

The moment Jimin knows that you have the bouquet, he takes a few steps back, bows to you and takes off. 

Well, guess he did run away, after all. 

You don't even get the time to question him as to why the sudden flowers as you stand there for a moment until you're sure that Jimin isn't coming back. With a confused sigh, you head back into your apartment. 

"I should put them in water," you mumble to yourself and rest the bouquet on your centre table. 

However, it's at this very moment that your eyes land on a piece of paper that seems to have been folded with great care and has been kept in such a way that it isn't visible from the front but only from the top. 

With a small frown of curiosity, you take the paper out with your fingers. On unfolding, you find a small printed note on the left side and a handwritten note on the right. 

The left side of the note read: "Pink roses signify gratitude, admiration and appreciation." 

The right side of the note read: "You're not the stupid one, I am."

There's a brief moment where you are clueless and you have to think as to what Jimin could possibly mean. However, it doesn't take long for you to figure it out as you're hit with the memory of letting Jimin know how he has made you feel for a very, very long time. 

One particular line sticks out and you have a hunch that his note refers to that.

"I felt so stupid to be hanging out with you when you couldn’t even pause and give me the minimum respect I deserve.”

Huh. 

Is...Is Jimin apologising? 

No way. 

After that day you had thought Jimin would either just stop talking to you or would just show up a few days later as if nothing ever happened. Never had you considered that he would choose to apologise. But apparently, that's exactly what he has decided on. 

Wow. This is way more surprising than the sun rising in the west. 

You do not doubt that he must have taken the help of some of his friends but that's only fair. You can imagine how hard it must be for someone like Jimin to apologise to someone. 

You shake your head in amusement and bring a vase filled with water to place the flowers in. 

Honestly, you hadn't thought much about Jimin since that day. The way you felt lighter after saying what you had wanted to for a long time, was incredibly freeing. You were also proud of yourself for finally standing up and for sticking to your decision to cut him off. It made you wish you had done it sooner. 

But now that Jimin is apologising, in his own way, you are a tad bit surprised that it doesn't throw you into a mental debate. That you don't have to battle yourself on what to do. 

Things are pretty clear in your head. 

You forgive Jimin. 

You had forgiven him long before he even sent you the flowers. With your bottled-up emotions out of the way, it gave you the clarity you needed to see things for how they were. 

You had always had a weak spot for Jimin. Jimin, not so much. You were just another girl to him. But the thing with having weak spots is that they make you vulnerable. 

But Jimin is Jimin. He has no clue about these kind of things. Does he? For you, to expect Jimin to understand the sensitivity of the matter, was basically setting yourself up for disappointment from the get-go. 

It's the same as looking for a mango in a banyan tree. It's fruitless. 

That does not mean, that you blame yourself. When emotions that are beyond your control, get involved, the practical mind is forced to take a back seat. Romantic affection is for sure one such feeling where one tends to lose their thinking and decision-making capabilities. 

You forgive Jimin. You also forgive yourself. 

Does that mean you'd be okay with being friends with Jimin, again? No, you cannot bring yourself to do that. 

The trust and faith you had put in him has been broken and that's enough of a reason for you to move on. 

So what is Jimin to you, now? 

Someone you still have a weak spot for because it's not like you wake up one day and suddenly all your feelings you harboured for a person disappears. But you know you want to move on. You know you do not wish to go back to sharing the same dynamic with Jimin ever again. 

And this time your decision does not come from a place of hurt, anger or frustration. This time it comes from a place of clarity and acceptance, which is also why it doesn't seem difficult to follow through with your choice. 

Nevertheless, you do appreciate Jimin giving you flowers. Although, you think there was no need for it. 

For a brief moment, you contemplate if you should be texting a thank you to him but then decide otherwise when you remember that you have blocked him. Even if it's for the short span of two minutes to send a text, you don't think you're ready to unblock him just yet. 

For the time being you simply settle for putting the vase at the top of one of your drawers and taking good care of them. 

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

The next day it was a bouquet of white flowers with a note that read: 

I'm sorry; on the left and I know flowers won't earn me your forgiveness but I'm trying; on the right.

It once again was Jimin at your doorstep and once again, before you could say anything, he had decided his job was done as soon as the flowers were in your hands. 

You were too flabbergasted as you had thought that the whole giving you flowers thing was only a one-time thing. You didn't think Jimin would show up for a second time, just the day after, to give you another massive bouquet. 

Maybe you should have seen the same thing happening on the third day but somehow you didn't and were just as surprised, if not more, when Jimin showed up with another bouquet on the third day. 

Before you could say anything, Jimin was gone. 

Which is exactly why you now find yourself unblocking his contact. 

You: hey

You: just letting you know I appreciate the flowers but you do not need to send them anymore 

You: I forgive you

Jimin is on the phone with Taehyung getting an earful about his cowardness and running, when he receives your text.

"I'm telling you, this flower thing is not going to work. She hasn't even tried to talk to me" 

"From what I have heard you are the one who has never allowed her to even open her mouth and–"

"Hold on, someone texted me," Jimin interrupts Taehyung solely to avoid getting called out for the umpteenth time. However, his eyes almost fall out of his sockets when he sees that it's you. "Tae, Y/N texted me!"

Taehyung, too, is surprised to hear this. "What did she say?"

Jimin takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he fills his lungs up with as much air as possible. "Right, I will open her messages." 

When he does read the words you have sent him, he is even more surprised. But even more so, he is relieved. Gosh, he feels like he could cry tears of joy. 

"She forgave me," Jimin speaks in a tone that is a little too loud for Taehyung's ears. 

However, Taehyung doesn't protest as his friend's words seem more important at the moment. "Are you serious? She did? What did she say?"

"She said that she appreciates the flowers and that I need not send them to her anymore and that she forgives me." 

Taehyung pauses for a moment and then grins brightly, the relieved and excited tone of his friend making him feel happy. "Then what are you doing fucker? Text her back, you idiot."

Jimin nods but then responds verbally when he remembers that Taehyung is over the phone and not with him in his room. "I'll text her back."

Saying so, he ends the call with Taehyung and starts typing. 

Jimin: Thank you

Wait. 

Thank you?

Should he say thank you? Is that the right response? But is sending a simple thank you good enough? 

He doesn't think so. 

Quickly deleting the typed words, he begins to think of a better response. 

If not thank you, then what? How about 'How have you been?' No, no, no. That sounds way too casual. 

He should send something that appears to be cool and that doesn't make things awkward. At the same time, he should text something that leaves room for a conversation. A proper one. 

Geez, texting is difficult. 

What if he tries teasing you like he did before everything happened? No, that would make it look like he never took the matter seriously. 

Should he...should he just be uncool and be honest for once? 

Should he just let you know that he feels like a bag of stones has been lifted off his chest and that he can breathe again? That he feels like he can think properly, again? 

That might be too much. 

But maybe he can just try letting you know that he's incredibly grateful for your forgiveness without sounding cheesy? Yeah, he can definitely do that. 

Jimin: Thank you.

Jimin: that word isn't enough but that's the best I have got 

Jimin: I am incredibly grateful and I promise I won't make you regret your choice. 

When you read his texts a few minutes later, you're rather surprised. Is Jimin saying these things? There's no way. 

But then you come to a conclusion that, there indeed is no way. Jimin must have made a friend of his type out these words. Now, that makes a whole lot of sense. 

You chuckle at the thought and react to his messages with a thumbs up and leave it at that. 

The moment Jimin sees you reacting to his messages, he types out another message, one that he has delicately crafted in his mind. Something light that hopefully will lead to a proper conversation.

Jimin: How have you been? 

Your phone pings and you notice Jimin's text. Something uncomfortable churns in your stomach at his words. Jimin most likely thinks things are back to normal and that you two will once again bicker and joke around in no time.

Guess, you need to break it to him. 

You: I've been fine 

You: but I would rather have us not go back to the way we were 

Jimin is already in the middle of forming another text that conveys that things won't be the same and that he'd do better but his heart literally breaks into pieces when he reads the next text. 

You: I don't think we should be in contact anymore 

You: it's a proven fact it doesn't do either of us any good 😂

You: especially me.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Jimin has decided to watch a movie. Not just any movie, the fault in our stars. Because he needs something to make him feel sad. Correction; he needs something that he is consciously aware of, to make him feel sad. 

It's much much more annoying when you get sad and heartbroken over something and yet you cannot explain why you feel that way. Imagine suddenly getting stabbed by invisible knives that you can't see but can only feel. Yeah, it feels the same. 

But who cares anyway? Jimin is watching a movie that will make him plenty sad and unlike you, it won't have him feeling like someone who hasn't been in touch with his emotions for ages. 

Taehyung munches on his popcorn slowly, his focus periodically shifting between Jimin and the TV screen. 

Taehyung knew something was up the moment Jimin texted him asking if he would like to watch The Fault in Our Stars. For the people who don't know, Jimin does not watch sad movies, like ever. Because irrespective of how much of a fuckboy he is, he is a huge softie on the inside (which is actually very cliche of him). But as his fuckboy-ness would have it, he absolutely hates crying. 

Taehyung does not believe that Jimin does not cry or that he tries to keep his tears at bay. Because from the few times that he has seen his friend crying, he knows that he isn't someone who's good at holding his tears back. So no, Jimin does cry and when he does, he cries like a baby. However, what Jimin ensures is that he does not cry in front of anyone.

But here's Jimin, crying in front of Taehyung. 

This boy is going to give me a headache, Taehyung thinks with a deep inhale as he once again shifts his focus from Jimin to the screen.

It must have been another fifteen minutes or so when he hears a small sniffle coming from his left. Huh, things haven't even turned that sad in the movie yet. 

Taehyung looks at his friend only to realise his suspicions are right when he notices his friend subtly wiping under his eyes. 

Taehyung takes hold of the remote and switches the TV off. 

He has had enough. 

Jimin looks at Taehyung with perplexed features but before he can ask a question, Taehyung is getting up from his seat to turn the lights on. 

This makes Jimin quickly grab a few tissues and wipe at the corner of his eyes. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Sometimes I can't tell if you're a drama queen or a little kid." 

Jimin looks at Taehyung with a clueless expression. As long as he pretends he has no clue what Taehyung is talking about, it should be good. 

Taehyung simply scoffs and shakes his head in defeat. "Do you want to talk about it or should I just leave?" 

This has Jimin facing away from Taehyung and he scowls at the centre table. "I have nothing to talk about."

"Cool then, I have some important work to do, I'll get going." 

"Sure do that. Leave me. Everyone does, why shouldn't you?"

Ah. Drama queen, it is. 

"So what Y/N left? Like did she leave you on seen or something? Is that why you're so sad and upset?" Taehyung guesses the possible cause of Jimin's state from his words. 

Jimin wishes it was that simple. He honestly would give anything for Taehyung's words to be right, for that being the cause of his sadness. But if only.

Taehyung deduces that things might not be that simple when Jimin does not give a verbal answer and appears to become more sulky. 

Taehyung makes his way to the couch and claims his previous seat next to Jimin. "What will you take to just tell me what went wrong? I know you're dying to let it out."

Jimin looks at his friend for a moment then suddenly reaches out to grab his phone from the table. He opens your texts and just places his phone in Taehyung's hands. 

With a small concentrated frown, he takes a look at the screen and goes through the chats. 

"So this is what has gotten you like this," he mumbles to himself.  "Have you tried talking to her and telling her that you won't be repeating the same things again?" 

Jimin shakes his head. "She never gave me the chance to do so."

Taehyung hums, deep in thought. "What do you want to do now?" 

"I don't think it matters."

"It does. Now tell me what do you want?"

Jimin looks up at the ceiling with blurry eyes. "I think I want us to go back to the way we were."

Taehyung, although wanting to, does not show the disbelief he feels at Jimin's words. He keeps his composure calm so that Jimin does not feel uncomfortable. "What you're saying is you want to go back to the way you would annoy her and she would put up with it?"

Jimin's spirit lifts just a little bit when he remembers how things were before and he finds himself absentmindedly nodding. 

"Which would also mean going back to the way you would keep sleeping around with people and then at the same time would make flirty comments towards Y/N?" 

The tiny little corner of his mouth that had lifted, once again turns into a scowl as Taehyung's words register in his brain. It's as if he's knocked into his senses. 

Noticing that Taehyung has successfully managed to grab Jimin's attention, he hopes he can only make Jimin see his point. "Honestly, Jimin have you ever realised where you went wrong? Or did you apologise to her solely because you thought that was what she wanted and that would have her back in your life?" 

Questions. Another set of questions. Jimin could honestly scream. But something about Taehyung's gaze makes him unable to run away from the queries like he has been doing all this time.

He considers Taehyung's words for a moment and then mumbles in a small voice, "I don't know."

Taehyung hums, having guessed that answer. 

"I just wanted to apologise to her because I know I have hurt her," Jimin keeps his tone soft and vulnerable. "I may not know all the ways in which I have hurt her but I know I should have respected her wishes and should have stopped flirting with her when she had asked."

"I may not know exactly how or why it affected her but I know it led her to be angry–" Jimin breaks off suddenly when a thought occurs to him and soon he looks even more ashamed, "–and they say all anger stems from hidden pain. If that's true then I must have caused her pain."

Taehyung releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. He wonders how his friend can be both stupid and smart at the same time and why exactly does his brain start working when the damage has already been done. 

"So you realise that you have caused her some sort of pain?" 

"I must have," Jimin agrees. 

"Have you then tried figuring out what exactly she means to you?" 

Jimin's tears have dried, thanks to the ongoing conversation that has distracted him enough to have the wheels of his brain running again.  

"She's someone I care about a lot and someone I want in my life." 

"As a friend?" Taehyung pushes. 

Jimin nods. 

Taehyung hums, "I think you really need to sit with yourself and think things through." 

—-------------------------------------------------------

Jimin is dumb and Taehyung is loyal.

Which is why the latter finds himself in the middle of a party, waiting for you to arrive. 

A week of Jimin moping and being a sullen child, had Taehyung take matters into his own hands. Jimin could not possibly figure things out by himself even if everyone around him could. Taehyung only hopes he will admit what has been brewing for a long time, when his feelings smack him right across the face. 

Taehyung leans against the bar counter, his eyes hardly moving from the entrance as he waits for you to walk through the door. 

It takes about another fifteen minutes of his eyes locked on the door, for you to finally emerge. 

Taehyung relaxes a breath. He had to do a lot of digging to find a common friend and for him to convince that common friend to somehow convince you to come to the party. He wasn't sure if all of this would work, but now that you're here, success is a step closer. 

He gives you five minutes to say your hi's and hello's and then, he's making his way to you. 

"And you must be Y/N?" 

You look at the guy who seems to know you by your name and frown when you don't recall ever having interacted with him. "And you must be?"

"Taehyung. Kim Taehyung."

Your brain clicks in realisation. Taehyung, a name you have heard Jimin mention many times. However, this is the first time that you get to put a face to the said name. 

"I have heard of you," you nod as a feeling of reluctance takes over you. Why is Taehyung approaching you? 

He smiles. "I'm not surprised by that."

You return his smile awkwardly and wonder what you should be saying next. "How do you know me?" 

"Let's just say I have heard of you as well," his smile turns into a full-blown grin as if he's enjoying this. 

"From Jimin?" 

"Ah yes. We both have an idiot named Jimin in our lives."

You feel your traitor heart get curious at the confirmation. Taehyung knows of you from Jimin? Jimin talked about you to his friends? The thought of that catches you with surprise as you never thought you were ever important enough to him, for him to do that. You thought you were just another girl who fell for him. However, your curiosity is soon overtaken by the thought of him making light and fun of your feelings.

"That idiot, however, speaks highly of you, which is why I just could not miss the opportunity to speak to you," Taehyung quips, sensing the thoughts inside your head. 

You look at Taehyung, wondering what to make of his words. You just find it difficult to believe that Jimin speaks highly of you. One speaks highly of the people they respect and well—no, you don't want your mind to wander there.

"So you're here speaking to me, to verify the things Jimin has said about me?" You keep your tone light, playful and teasing, so as to not come off as rude. While, on the inside, you're really confused as fuck as to what to make out of this. Does Taehyung not know of the recent changes in the dynamics between you and Jimin? 

"Oh no, absolutely not," he shakes his head. "I do not doubt a thing Jimin has said about you. I'm only here out of sheer curiosity and with the intent to get to know you better."

And some ulterior purposes. That part he leaves unspoken. 

You observe him for a moment and relax a little when you realise that he seems genuine. You don't know, why he's here and what he wants from you, but you decide talking to him won't be of any harm.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Jimin is grumpy as fuck when he walks in and is greeted by the loud music that blasts through the speakers. Goodness, why did he enjoy partying, again? 

He really wouldn't be here had it not been for Taehyung's constant nagging that he had something important to say, and that couldn't be done unless he attended the party. 

Technically, his words made zero sense. Taehyung couldn't just say whatever important thing he had to say, over the phone? Apparently, according to him, he couldn't. 

He prays to whatever god is out there, for the sake of Taehyung that he finds him soon. 

The universe, however, has other plans. 

Jimjn spots you before he spots Taehyung. He sees you smiling wide and even in the dimmed lights, he can see the way your eyes shine with amusement and joy. As selfish as it is, Jimin feels any amount of hope he might have had, leave at the sight. You're clearly doing fine without him. A part of him wishes you weren't. 

It feels eerily similar to the time when he had spotted you on his way to class. 

But then he realises you are with a guy. A strange emotion fills him, one that he believes he hasn't felt before, ever. He realises he's jealous. He's so jealous of the lucky bastard who's getting to make you laugh and with whom you seem so comfortable with. With that jealousy, comes a huge wave of insecurity. The guy doesn't seem to have messed up like Jimin did. He doesn't seem to be someone you feel the need to cut off your life. All of which Jimin has done and is. 

However, when the light falls on the face of the said guy, Jimin is hit with a sense of anger and confirmation that the said guy is much, much better than Jimin is. 

Taehyung is smart, has a good sense of humour and surely knows more when it comes to matters of the heart. Whereas, Jimin has only been confused and no matter how hard he has tried, he has been unsuccessful in clearing up the cloud of confusion. 

For a brief moment, he is taken back to the words Taehyung had said to him–you're so in love–which Jimin had found utterly ridiculous at the time. However, now that he finds himself in the hold of jealousy and a brewing insecurity that only you hold the power to put a stop to, he doesn't find the idea as absurd. 

He's never been in love before. But somehow he is still hit with the realisation that all his desperation, anger, jealousy and insecurities stem from one thing and one thing only. His love for you. 

He is hit with more and more clarity with each passing moment as he stares at you. An overwhelming urge to make you his, washes over him and with strong, determined steps, he walks in the direction where you chat with Taehyung. 

The moment the two of you realise Jimin's presence, your smile falters whereas Taehyung's widens.

"Jimin," you whisper, caught completely off guard. 

"Y/N," he greets you back. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Me neither," you mumble in a small voice. 

"How have you been?" 

Neither of you miss the fact that this was the very same question he had asked via text, to which you had made it clear that things would never be the same, instead of actually answering him. 

However, now that you both stand in front of each other, you think it would be incredibly rude to not answer him. "I'm fine." 

Your short answer leaves no further room for conversation and it's only when you realise that Jimin refuses to avert his eyes from you, that you ask him back the same question. 

"I've been anything but fine," Jimin answers, without missing a beat. 

His answer is similar to yours in terms of being short and vague. However, his response means exactly the opposite of yours. 

You stifle the question that's on the tip of your tongue and push away the overgrowing concern at his answer. This is exactly why you had chosen to end whatever friendship you two had over text. You were unsure of the feelings Jimin would stir within you. Sure, you have made the choice of moving on from him but there was no denying that you haven't moved on yet. 

You nod and think it would be best to include Taehyung in the conversation. He would surely know how to break the tension. However, you realise at the same time as Jimin does that Taehyung has disappeared into thin air. 

Taehyung's gone, you think with surprise and disbelief, having no clue when he left. 

Taehyung's gone, Jimin thinks, beaming with glee and satisfaction. 

"Do you want a drink?" Jimin asks, having no intention of leaving. 

"I could actually do with some alcohol," you mumble mainly to yourself, but somehow despite the loud music, Jimin manages to hear you. The very next moment he has two drinks in his hands and gracefully offers you one.

"I have a few things to say," he says after a few sips.

Oh god. Please be kind to my heart. You stay quiet. You were not prepared to face Jimin. After texting him that day, you had honestly thought that was it. It was hard for you to send him those words. So incredibly hard. But you knew it was for the best.  

A part of you had wished for Jimin to regret losing you. But you knew that thought to be impractical. You knew in reality, Jimin must have slipped into someone's bed instead of giving you a second thought. You had honestly thought Jimin's attempt at apologising with flowers was merely a result of his hurt to the ego. Nevertheless, you appreciate his effort and know better than to have any further expectations from the man. 

However, this is incredibly confusing. More so, because the Jimin who was sending you those flowers would run away right after he knew that the flowers had reached their destination. However, this Jimin, stands in front of you with eyes locked with yours, refusing to back down. 

"I had sent those flowers to you, because I knew I had to apologise. I knew I messed up. I knew I hurt you. Don't get me wrong, the knowledge that I had hurt you was enough of a slap on my face, but I didn't know what it felt like for you," he takes a pause, "but now I do."

Jimin is aware that comparing what he has put you through with what he felt for merely a few minutes after seeing you with Taehyung, is completely unfair. However, it'd be fair to say he has got a taste of his own medicine and he fucking hates himself to have you put through that, over and over again. 

"I know now, because–," he takes a deep breath, afraid you won't believe him, "–I have come to the realisation that I'm in love with you."

Your pupils dilate in shock and after a brief moment, your expressions morph into that of disbelief, much like Jimin had expected. 

"I don't expect you to believe it. I know I haven't done much to earn your trust. All I ask is for you to give me a chance to prove myself."

You're too shocked to make coherent thoughts. As a matter of fact, the severity of Jimin's words doesn't click in your brain. How can it, when you have seen it for yourself how appalled Jimin feels at the thought of commitment? How can you digest the thought of Jimin saying these words, that too, to you? 

"What do you want, Jimin?" You ask wanting the interaction to be cut short, afraid that the longer you stay in his presence the more you will find yourself inclined to believe his words. 

"Let me take you out on a date." 

Kim Taehyung

I'm in a relationship.

You absent-mindedly stare at the words on your screen as you feel the mix of emotions resurface yet again. 

Taehyung is in a relationship. The Taehyung you love so dearly, is in a relationship. And if you are to go with his status updates, he's quite happy about it as well. 

How do you feel about it, exactly? 

You feel betrayed, hurt, confused, angry, perplexed, sad, annoyed, embarrassed, lonely, frustrated, upset. These emotions are only a few to name. There's so much you think and believe, you still haven't figured out yet. Anytime, you try to focus on your emotions in hopes that you will be able to let it all out, all you come up with is an empty feeling. 

That's another thing. You haven't cried at all. But you want to. You want to just let all of it hit you at once and get it off your chest. Because the heavy uncomfortable feeling that often stirs your heart is not something you wish to deal with for long. 

Sometimes your mind comes up with all the little things and moments that had made Taehyung so special to you and you find yourself this close to breaking into uncontrollable sobs. But then it just never happens. It's like someone is pressing the accelerator and the brake at the same time and you're just there, frozen in time, not knowing what to do. 

You doubt if you have even fully grasped the concept of Taehyung being in a relationship. The thought that he's in one and you got to learn about it only after he committed, that too through a WhatsApp status, is completely unbelievable to you for some reason. No matter how much you try, a part of you doesn't want to believe it.

It's a whole set of emotions you never thought Taehyung would make you feel. He was your feel-good person, one of your best friends and someone you trusted with your entire heart. It's something you don't even know as to how to react to. 

"Y/N!"

You blink back to reality when someone shakes you by your shoulders. "Huh?" 

"You zoned out again."

"Oh," you speak in a tone of realisation, "I'm sorry–"

"Nothing to apologise for. Just forget whoever that guy is. He's surely not treating you right if you have this conflicted look on your face all the time."

If only it were that easy. You wish it was that easy. 

You chuckle at your next desk co-worker, Shanaya's, words. "I will surely contemplate on your words." 

"Men don't deserve shit from us if they treat us like shit," she nods seriously. "And with the way, you have had this sad-confused look in your eyes for a whole week now, I strongly doubt that man is any good for you."

Oh yeah, it's been a week.

Although, you could have been fooled by how the admittance of his relationship remains the last text exchanged between the two of you. You just didn't know how to respond to him at that time. You were too busy absorbing the shock to think of a proper response. 

You had just shut your net off and tried your hardest to fall asleep. But you just couldn't get a blink of sleep and since then you also couldn't bring yourself to pretend to be fine with him, when you were far from it.

Maybe you had posted your status a little too frequently to subtly let him know that you're online and well-active on your socials but are simply choosing to not talk to him. On the other side of the coin, is the fact that you feel disheartened that he hasn't made any effort to talk to you. It's the longest the both of you have gone without talking to each other. 

A hand waves in front of your face gaining your attention as your co-worker looks at you knowingly. 

"See! Not good for you."

You smile at her words and shake your head softly, amused by her straightforward and direct nature. 

—-----------

"How are you?"

You roll your eyes before replying. "I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Hmm," your best friend hums. "On a scale of 1 to 10?"

"Idk man, 7?"

"That's an improvement," she speaks to herself. "Now tell me, have you blocked Taehyung, yet?"

"I won't do that," you reply softly with a tone of surety. 

She sighs over the phone. "Babe, he's a dick. Why haven't you cut him off yet, is beyond me."

Your best friend is of the kind whom if you call crying, she'd ask you to first get rid of the person who's responsible for your tears and then she will allow you to tell her what went down for you to cry. If only she were in the same city as you, she'd have committed the crimes herself instead of having to beg you to do them. 

She's protective of you, incredibly so. 

When you had told her everything about Taehyung, she had muttered to herself something along the lines of how she knew he was gonna turn out to be a dickhead. You never queried her on that because in a way you knew what she meant. 

On learning about the situation you and Taehyung were in and about his unwillingness to be in a relationship, she was very firm about making her point that Taehyung was only making excuses. She was adamant that a person who really loves you wouldn't come up with reasons as to why they shouldn't be together. At the time, you had acknowledged what she was trying to say but you added that sometimes people get scared and fear often turns out to be an emotion that is rather difficult to overcome.

With much reassurance from your side that Taehyung was a great guy, she had let go of the topic. However, to say that Taehyung has now earned the entirety of your best friend's hatred, would be an understatement. You'd have been really concerned about his safety had she been in the city. 

"He–", you pause briefly, "–isn't a bad guy." 

Your friend scoffs. "Right. He's the worst."

"He is nice," you say a little more firmly. 

"Oh! Yes please, someone please give him a Nobel prize for his niceness!"

To your surprise the tone in which she speaks, makes you burst out laughing. "You really hate him, don't you?"

"Has he ever given me a reason to NOT despise him?" 

You chuckle as your laughter dies off. "Well, I don't blame you. I'd hate the guy as well if I was in your place."

"Hah! So you agree on something with me."

"But," you emphasise on the word, "he's not a bad guy. I don't know how everything turned out to be this way but trust me he has a very tender heart."

"I cannot believe you're making excuses for him, Y/N." 

Her surprisingly soft tone serves as a reminder that your best friend is probably one of the most compassionate and understanding people you've ever met. The only time you've seen her behave like an angry child who's ready to throw some punches, is when you get hurt. 

And admittedly, you're the same way when it comes to her.

"I'm not making excuses for him, I know him. He'd never intentionally hurt someone."

"But he did hurt you!!!"

"I know and I doubt he realises it," you sigh. "But I need to know his side of things."

"I'm sure he will run if you try to confront him," she grumbles. "He'll probably not even reply if you tell him how much of a dick he's been."

"Heyyy," a childish whine escapes your lips. "I have more faith in him than that. He respects me enough to talk things out."

She makes a sound of complete disbelief, "You bet my ass he would just pull stuff out of his ass."

"We will see," you chuckle.

You had to make up your mind sooner or later and somehow the conversation with your best friend has reminded you of the faith you have in Taehyung. If you need answers, you're sure he'd give them. Most importantly, you don't plan on losing the friendship you have with him this easily. But you don't think you'd be able to just push everything aside and pretend that things are fine. You need to clear it out. You need for him to realise that he has hurt you and you need to know how things changed so quickly. 

—————————————————————

You: hey 

It took you another day to get the simple three-letter word out of your system. But you do it the very first thing in the morning after waking up. Whatever roller coaster ride of emotion it is going to take you on, you want it over by today. 

Thankfully, it takes only ten minutes for your phone to ping to notify you of a message from Taehyung. 

Tae 🐻: hello, birdie 👋

A snort escapes you when you imagine all the lovely cuss words that would leave your best friend's mouth if she were to learn of his response to your 'hey'.  

You, too, find yourself being amused yet disappointed at how oblivious he seems to be. 

You: I'm sorry for not responding to your texts any sooner

Chewing on your lower lip, you click on the send button. While this text is meant to serve as an apology, it also serves as a means for you to know whether he really is as clueless as he seems. You're curious if he's at least aware that something must have been wrong for you to not text for this long.

Tae 🐻: It's okay, don't worry. I understand!

Tae 🐻: work can get busy 

Tae 🐻: it's fine! 

Sighing, you realise it's fruitless. You need to be upfront as there's no other way for you to go about it. 

You: uhmm thanks 

You: but before we catch up and all that, can I just get a few things off my chest?

Tae 🐻: sure! Go ahead. 

Suddenly you find yourself feeling anxious. You are not quite sure how this is going to turn out and how you're going to put your emotions into words. It sure appears to be a difficult job considering how muddled your brain feels every time you think about the events that have led to this.

You:  i don't really know how to say what i want to say lol

You: this is so awkward

Tae 🐻: just say it

Tae 🐻: it's the same ol' me after all

Some of your anxiety softens at his words. 

You: i know but i just dk how to say it 😂

Tae 🐻: that's okay

Tae 🐻: would it be more comfortable for you if I were to go offline? and I can check your messages when you give me the green signal to open your texts? 

Now that he mentions it, you think that would be lovely. That way you could take your time figuring out how to word your sentences without having the rush of typing things out fast over the worry of him coming to assumptions before you say the full thing. 

You: that'd be great! 

You: thank you! 

Tae 🐻: well then, I'll go offline. You speak your heart out 😌

You: open my texts only when you see a thumbs up or a message that directly asks you to open it. Okay?

Tae 🐻: done 👍

Sighing, you relax on your sofa and think. Now that he's offline, you need to figure out what to say. Rather, where to start because you just have so much to say. 

It takes you another two or three minutes before you start typing. 

You: so idk how this is gonna sound or how it's gonna get interpreted but I really need this out of my chest for it's been bothering me the last few days. 

You: so ummm, you know we both had openly admitted to having feelings for each other and then you told me you weren't really ready for a relationship? And I agreed to things being the way they were because I never wanted to pressurise you. I always wanted to be a friend first, whom you can trust and feel safe with, more than anything else. 

You: it's true that we never had a name for what we were. But it's because of that very reason that it always remained very confusing to me as to where we stood. Especially where you stood. 

You: i always could have asked in the course of the year as to where we stood but i always let you be because i was cautious that asking you, would in a way, pressurise you. 

You: however, that is not to say that i wasn't put in a dilemma when i would get propositions for going out on dates or when someone would ask me out. 

You: i didn't know where your feelings for me lied. While I avoided any assumptions, i also didn't act as if you did not have feelings for me. Because what if you did and then my actions hurt you? I knew how much you have been hurt in the past and i just didn't want to add to that. 

Your fingers pause as you take a look at what you have covered so far. When you go through your last two texts, you go awry at the thought of sounding like someone who's claiming to have done him some huge favour. 

You: I'm not saying all this to say that i have done you a huge favour or something by the way. Or that you owe me something in return. 

You: I'm just saying this because when you're so cautious and thoughtful over someone, it hurts to be on the receiving end of actions that make you feel incredibly stupid. 

You: it would have been better if you had told me, you know? That "hey, there's this girl i like," and I'm not saying in a way that you had to take my permission or something but just that it would have been nice to know that you thought of me and of what kind of an effect it would have on me. 

You: I just wish I didn't have to learn from a WhatsApp status 

You pause before thinking if you have missed anything. When you go through your words, you realise that you indeed have missed something important. 

You see, in the mix of all the heavy emotions, you also are happy. You're happy for him. That's something you realised the very day you learned about his relationship. It's odd but even in the midst of all the confusion you were feeling, a part of you felt glad.

You were glad that he found someone he loves and someone who makes him happy. You also found yourself excited on his behalf. 

You won't lie, you were surprised that you weren't jealous. Before Taehyung, for a long time, you had hardly had any guy in your life except for fleeting crushes. Even then, you can acknowledge the fact that jealousy is a very natural emotion to feel in this scenario. However, when you realised that you were happy for him and that happiness did not originate from a place where you had to force it, you were also proud. 

To you, there's no greater testimony of your love than that. 

You: i don't think i have mentioned this before but I'm really happy and excited for you.

You: go ahead and open your texts ig 😂

There are questions in your mind that you think would have been better had you asked them. Questions as to how he was unwilling to be in a relationship when it came to you but suddenly found himself being in a relationship a year later? 

However, you decide that's something you'd rather not ask. 

When you think of it, you indeed find it unfair and there's perhaps that hint of anger that bubbles in your stomach. But you recognise that there's no purpose in asking that question. 

It's possible that his feelings for her run deeper than they ever did for you. Or it could be the fact that they work together and it's human that you'd grow close to someone who's there with you physically rather than someone whom you only talk to over the phone or via texts. 

But figuring out the why is none of your business. Neither is it something you're concerned with. Whatever the reason might be, he's in a relationship and he has already made a choice. The why is irrelevant now. 

Another reason, the why is irrelevant to you is because, you have never found yourself thinking along the lines of what you could have done differently for him to stay and choose you. You have never wondered if it was something you lacked. You'd never let yourself think that way for anyone. Once upon a time, you did. You were filled with insecurities and would question yourself anytime someone would hurt you or leave you. But you have overcome that and have learnt to love yourself. You'd never undo all that progress by entertaining those thoughts ever again. Even if it's Taehyung. 

Three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen letting you know Taehyung is typing. His text soon arrives making your breath hitch. 

Tae 🐻: I have read your texts. Give me some time, and I'll reply to them. 

So you'll have to wait. 

It's fair you think, he can take the time he needs, to figure out what he has to say. 

You only hope you can get over this soon. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

It's been an entire day since Taehyung said he'd reply to your texts but unfortunately, he hasn't yet. 

You know he will reply, you have that faith in him but you only wish he'd do it sooner. There's that lingering anxiety that comes with being unable to predict what he's going to say. 

You have also been wondering if you have worded your words correctly. You found yourself worrying what if you came across as jealous and as someone who's unhappy for him? You really hope you didn't sound bitter because you aren't. 

Yes, there's a part of you that is sad because the moments that you thought were special for the both of you, were all in your head. Because you loved him.

There's also this feeling that now you have been replaced. That now, things won't ever be the same. Perhaps, a part of you wishes you could stay in your head a little longer and pretend. 

But all of that aside, you also have immense amounts of trust in the friendship you both share. Taehyung is someone who is incredibly kind and loving, and he's a great friend in general and you're sure that both of you would somehow manage to keep your friendship intact.

Penny: Has he replied yet? 

You look down at the screen to find a text from your best friend.

You: no 

You: not yet 

Penny: huh told you

Penny: he's a dick 

You smile and shake your head.

Knowing you have a long day ahead, you cook yourself a plate full of breakfast and get ready for work. In a way, you're glad that there's work to keep you busy. You do not know what you'd have done had it been a Sunday. You'd probably have been restless as fuck and would have been checking your phone every five minutes.

Thanks to your workload, you only get time to check your phone during lunch. However, the workload doesn't help with the disappointment you feel, when each time that you do check your phone and find that there's no new message from Taehyung. The disappointment only increases when you realise he has put a status about some funny fact regarding hyenas. 

Whatever he sends you as a response to your texts, it better be good to have you kept waiting this long. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

It's nine in the evening and you're at home when you finally receive Taehyung's text. Your anxiousness is overpowered by curiosity and impatience as you click on his message. It's a wordy and lengthy one. 

Tae 🐻: I was confused, Y/N. Very confused. Although I had confessed my feelings to you, I was extremely confused and scared to take a step forward. When things with Kira ended, I was lonely and sad and my thoughts were very self-destructive. I had zero self-confidence. Talking to you, spending time with you, and texting you gave me the greatest joy and it acted as an escape from those thoughts, feelings and difficulties I was facing at the time. However, if you ask me now, where my feelings originated from, I wouldn't be able to tell. Were they genuine or a result of my love-starved state, I wouldn't be able to tell. But I'm glad it did as it helped me move on from the grief that accompanied my breakup. You have no idea how much you helped me at the time and I was selfish enough to take all of it, without thinking of the consequences, one of which was falling for you. This conversation we are having now is one which we should have had long ago. But I was scared that me not taking the step forward and telling you all this, would make you lose interest in me. Instead, I kept you hanging. I thank you for always being such an amazing friend. I have always loved you but I was too scared to put the tag of a relationship. I mistook my infatuation as readiness for being in a relationship. I'm guilty of all the things you mentioned but I don't know what to do to make things right, as I really don't want to lose the friendship we have. With all that I have done, you'd obviously think that I don't care about you, or at least not as much as you do, but trust me, I do. I have just been shit at expressing my gratitude and telling you how much you mean to me. I'll do better. I just hope you have it in your heart to forgive me for my mistakes. Thank you.

Something that you have been really hoping for, finally happens. You cry. 

Fat, angry droplets of tears roll down your face and you close your eyes shut as the searing pain spreads in your chest. 

Everything just feels so final and also so fruitless. 

Three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen and you realise that Taehyjng must have noticed that you have read his message. 

Tae 🐻: say something

Tae 🐻: this is making me anxious 😅

Despite your blurry vision and him being the cause of your pain, you feel the need to put him at ease. 

You: i appreciate you being honest with me 

You: I'll reply properly in a while 

You: just let me have a good cry first 

The petty part of you wants him to know that you're crying, you want him to know how hurt you are. 

Tae 🐻: Y/N?

Tae 🐻: are you okay?

You don't reply, not having it in yourself to lie.

You let your tears flow as you cry silently.

It's too much for you. You feel used. You feel like a rebound. You feel like a bridge he walked on to reach his destination and to move on from his past. Your heart feels walked all over. Your love feels irrelevant. 

It's true that you wanted to make him feel good. You wanted him to move on from the hurt caused by Kira. You wanted him to feel good about himself. All because you loved him. But you never thought your love was so disposable to him. That it would only be the means for him to move on to someone else. 

What's worse is, despite all of that you understand. You understand that it wasn't a conscious choice of his to hurt you. He, himself, wasn't aware that he was using your love to heal himself. 

It's worse because a part of you feels bitter and angry. If you were the one who helped him get over his hurt, shouldn't he show at least a bit of loyalty to you? You feel angry because he didn't communicate, he left you in the dark and just assumed that you must have been detached enough from your feelings for you to not be bothered by his new relationship. But then a part of you understands that as well. 

With Taehyung, it's a tug of war where you want to be mad at him and feel betrayed by him but no matter what, your love for him makes you see things from his point of view. 

In a way, you find it surprising as well because you never realised just how deep your love runs. Seeing their side of things despite the hurt they have caused? Isn't that love at its purest? However, that makes you ache in pain as well. You loved him as your own. Only to realise that his love for you was merely an infatuation.

His love for you was shallow. 

You think it would have been better if he were an asshole whom you could just hate. It would have been easier for you because you'd know he wasn't worth your time. But how do you handle all of this when he's one of your closest friends? 

That's a question you'd probably need time to answer. You need time to let the stinging pain in your chest subside. You need time to let yourself process the silent heartbreak you're going through. 

With shaky hands and blurry vision, you block Taehyung. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

Last Friday of every month, all your colleagues go out to have dinner and drinks together. You enjoy accompanying them because honestly, it is nice and fun, almost like a little treat to yourself. However, this week, you're not really sure you'd like that. You don't have the energy to socialise.

One might argue that with recent events in mind, the best thing to do would probably be just that, to socialise, as it would take your mind off things that have been bugging you. But then you have always been the type who needs energy to socialise rather than the kind who energises themselves from socialising. 

You have almost completed packing your bag when someone taps on your shoulders. 

"You're coming with us today, right?" Shanaya queries, having a suspicious glint in her eyes as if she's already aware of your plans of not joining. 

Shaking your head softly, you confirm her suspicions. However, Shanaya is having none of that.

"You have to come," she insists, sounding determined. "It's my birthday treat."

You're thoroughly surprised at the information. "It's your birthday today? Oh my god, I'm so sorry–"

"It's not today, it's tomorrow," she cuts you off. "But tomorrow is off so it's an early birthday treat."

She looks at you with such pleading eyes that you cannot bring yourself to say no to her. Reluctantly you smile and the next thing you know, you're being wrapped in a warm hug. 

"Yay, thank you," she squeals, excited. "Now common, let's go."

As it turns out, today's destination is one stop away. Usually, you all go to someplace that's near and doesn't require transportation. However, Shanaya wanted to take all of you to a particular place that, according to her, serves the best dumplings and noodles. Who can say no to Shanaya, anyway?

As you sit there and wait with the others for the bus to arrive, you look at the screen with Taehyung's conversation open. 

It's only yesterday that you unblocked him. You were well aware that you'd be unblocking him and talking to him again at some point. The friendship was too precious for you to let go. And it's not something you're saying simply because you love him. If you were to look back, Taehyung has never been a bad friend to you. He's been there for you whenever you needed. He has never let you down when it comes to friendship. 

However, you doubt you're ready to talk to him just yet. That doesn't mean you don't want to.

There's just so much that you have to tell him. The little things that have occurred over the course of the two weeks that you had him blocked. Everything feels a little incomplete unless shared with him. 

Your fingers hover over his profile picture and you hesitate to click on it. He has uploaded a new profile picture and you wonder if it is too weird to just stare at it.

"Y/N?" 

The sound of your name startles you and while trying to hide your phone screen, you accidentally end up clicking on the small call button right next to the profile picture. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

You cut the call immediately and stare at the screen which now shows his name at the top of your call logs. He's gonna see a missed call from you, shit. 

"The bus is here, Y/N."

Oh right, that must be why Mike had called for you. You quickly gather your thoughts and get on the bus, shying away from the worried look Shanaya throws your way. 

When you get a seat on the bus, the first thing you do is shoot him a text. You indeed are not ready to talk to him but your accidental call has ruined your plans. 

You: I'm so sorry

You: i called you by mistake

You know it will probably be a while until he sees your call and your text and it's a good thing that you have your co-workers to accompany you. That way you'd be distracted enough to not fret about it unnecessarily. 

All of you get down when your stop arrives and make your way inside the small restaurant. 

The chatter and the giggles and the latest gossip about your boss is enough for you to temporarily ignore the sinking sadness that sits at the pit of your stomach. 

"Y/N, drinks?"

Your colleagues are well familiar with the answer to this question. You don't prefer drinking. The reason behind that, however, is not known to them.

Like the majority of people, you enjoy getting drunk and letting it loose. However, you're the kind of drunk who gets giggly and finds every little thing amusing. And for some reason, you feel comfortable to let that part of you out, only in the presence of a few people. Four, to be exact. 

One, your best friend. Two, Min Yoongi. Three, Lee Sana. And four, Kim Taehyung. 

Needless to say, you hardly ever get the chance to get drunk. 

The usual answer rests on the tip of your tongue, but there's also this desperation for you to let go of the heaviness. You really could do with some giggles and amusement.

"I'd probably have some whiskey," you reply with a shy unsure smile as your colleagues cheer.

The night somehow refuses to come to an end as you all soon find yourselves seated on the floor of Kate's apartment, in a circle. It starts off with some dancing and then Nitesh takes up the guitar and starts singing. He's a good singer, you can appreciate that and everyone's having fun with big smiles on their faces as they clap along with the beats. 

You have had three shots so far and for the love of god, you still feel that melancholy. It heightens when you realise you're sad in such a fun environment. Despite wanting to join them in their fun, your mind keeps wondering what it would be like if Taehyung were here. Gosh, it's been so long since the both of you have hung out and truthfully, it has never bothered you before. Whatever communication you two had was more than enough for you. Sharing the little details about your day, sending him silly stickers, all that held more meaning to you than he probably ever realised. That was much more intimate to you than anything physical.

You shake your head to yourself when you realise you're here being sad over a guy who wasn't even your boyfriend. It's so ridiculous. 

But then again, despite the lack of a label, you were loyal to him with your entirety.

Geez, the alcohol seemingly has made you more sensitive. 

"You sure are having fun," Shanaya comments. "I'm assuming the alcohol didn't help much?"

It doesn't take rocket science for someone to figure out that if a person who's never said yes to drinks before suddenly willingly says yes to them, there must be some pain they are trying to numb. 

"Surprisingly, no."

She hums. "Wanna talk about it?" 

Shanaya has asked this question to you multiple times over the span of the last few days. Never has it made you feel as if it's coming from a place where she is prying for details. It has only made you feel as if she's letting you know she's all ears, whenever you need her. Each time, you have shrugged as if it's not a big deal, as if it's not important enough for you to talk about. However, now, you really could do with a shoulder to cry on.

Hence, you vent and even amid all the noise and music, she intently listens to your words without interrupting even once. 

When you finish, she releases a heavy sigh. "That's what you meant when you said it was complicated."

You chuckle at the reminder of the response you had given to your then-new co-workers, to being asked about your love life. You were so cautious of hurting Taehyung, having no idea that it was going to be him, hurting you.

"Do you plan on being friends with him?" 

You don't miss the edge her tone has, as if she believes it's not worth it. Either that, or she thinks it's not possible to be friends with someone who's hurt you like that.

"I do," your reply is instantaneous. 

"Don't you feel angry?"

"I do," of course you are angry. It would be absurd if you were not. 

"Are you sure that is a good idea?"

You're not. You know the dynamic between you and Taehyung would never be the same again. Things would be different. You have now realised that things which meant a lot to you, perhaps never held the same meaning to him. The dynamic is bound to change. But is that good enough of a reason to cut your friendship off?

"He's only a human. People fall in love and sometimes, they fall out of love. I do not control the way he feels and when it comes to love, I don't think any of us have a control over who we fall for or when we fall," you release a sigh. Maybe it's all the more difficult for you because you still love him despite everything. "He's not in the wrong for falling for someone just because it's not me. I wish he would have not kept me in the dark but we all make mistakes, we all mess up."

"But more importantly, he's a friend first and he's always been an incredible friend to me. Now, I wouldn't be a good friend if I were to ever entertain the idea of making him choose between me and his happiness, would I?" 

She remains quiet for a moment, observing you closely. "Do you mean all that you said?"

You nod. 

She chuckles. "Well then, you have one of the purest hearts I have ever come across."

—--------------------------------------------------------

You were aware that there were unread texts from Taehyung but had refused to open them until morning. The night was exhausting and more than anything, you wanted to sleep. However, when morning came rolling, there was no avoiding opening his messages. 

Tae 🐻: why are you suddenly being so formal? 😂

Tae 🐻: it's completely fine.

Relief courses through your veins at his casual tone. You don't know how you'd have responded had he mentioned you blocking him seemingly out of nowhere. However, there's a small part of you that remains curious if he had even realised you blocked him. Nevertheless, you'd much rather put all of that behind you and move forward.

You: i was randomly scrolling through my phone and the next thing i knew, my phone was calling you 

Tae 🐻: lmao 

Tae 🐻: blame it on the phone, yes

You smile. Going back to being friends might not be that difficult. 

You two chat a bit and catch up with each other about things the both of you have been up to recently. You lose track of time as you make yourself a cup of tea, refusing to let your phone down, feeling excited at the thought of telling him about the things you have been up to. 

Tae 🐻: well i have something to tell you

You: uh oh

You: go on

Tae 🐻: so last day me and Bridget went on a date 

Tae 🐻: and things got steamy 👉👈

Tae 🐻: if you know what i mean

You very well know what he means.

Your stomach sinks in disappointment.

It's not because you're jealous or that the thought of Taehyung with someone else makes you feel disheartened, you have moved past that. Rather, you feel disappointed that he thought it was something appropriate to mention to you. 

Had it been anyone else in some other scenario, you'd have had no issue. Friends, close ones especially, tend to discuss these sorts of things, don't they? However, this is Taehyung and keeping the recent events in mind, he should not have mentioned it to you at all. Especially not when, his new relationship had made you feel as if he didn't bother to think of you, once. 

He keeps on going about how it was one of the best nights of his life but you don't find it in yourself to play pretend and entertain him. Although you don't directly ask him to stop, you don't reply to his texts either.

Tae 🐻: Y/N? 

The screen reads when he's done and probably upon the realisation that you haven't said anything for a long time. 

You: nice

Oh, how you wish technology was advanced enough for the text to be read aloud on his phone in a sarcastic tone.

You: let me tell you about yesterday

You: we went back to Kate's place 

You: and i got drunk simply because i was feeling low and sad and depressed and was looking for an escape 

You: but that didn't help, only enhanced what i was already feeling

You could have probably avoided saying this but then you wanted to say it. You don't know if he'll put two and two together but it's your own way of telling him that things are still sensitive.

Tae 🐻: you sound like a typical guy whose heart has been broken 😂 

A loud laugh escapes your lips. Gosh, is this the guy you have been crying over for weeks? 

Wow.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Taehyung has let you down, as a friend. More than once. 

A few days back, he'd asked if he could send you a poem that he'd written. You had always known he liked writing stuff and hadn't thought much of it. However, upon asking what it was about, he had replied 'newfound love'. Your reply to which had been, 'In that case, I'm not interested'. 

You didn't care how that sounded, you were not gonna put up with this bullshit just because it would be impolite. 

With each passing day and with each small incident where you feel as if your feelings are totally disregarded, your disappointment keeps growing. You really had not expected this kind of behaviour from Taehyung. 

One of the main reasons you had fallen for him was the way he seemed so emotionally wise. He was aware and attentive towards the people around him and was always kind. His recent attitude contradicts all of that.

There is a part of you that also recognises how his recent behaviour has made you detached. You could not say that the Taehyung you fell in love with and the Taehyung now, are the same. In a very twisted way, it made accepting the fact that there's nothing between the two of you, except friendship much easier. 

Tae 🐻: Y/N

Tae 🐻: I messed up. 

The text comes at around one in the morning. The only reason you're awake is the report that's due in two days. But the incoming text puts your fingers to a pause as worry clouds your senses. 

Is he okay? 

You: what happened? 

Tae 🐻: i messed up 

Tae 🐻: i feel so embarrassed

You: can you stop being vague? 

Tae 🐻: i sent a vm to Bridget of me singing TS 

You couldn't help rolling your eyes when you read the words. Huh, you should have seen it coming. 

Unlike other times, for some odd reason, you find yourself leaning towards the idea of entertaining him. Perhaps it's because you haven't had a proper conversation with him for a long time. And also perhaps, because you know this won't go on for long. 

You: so?

Tae 🐻: she is a huge TS fan 

Tae 🐻: she asked me to sing one of her favourite songs

Tae 🐻: and i cannot ever bring myself to say no to her

Tae 🐻: but like now that i listen back to the audio i sound terrible and i maybe did a British accent while singing

Understandably, you can see where he's coming from. The nervousness that comes with making a gesture for someone you adore and then feeling embarrassed about it, worrying whether they found it romantic or did you make a fool of yourself. And less than one month of being in a relationship is not enough to quieten the nervous jitters. 

So, you tell him what you would have, had it been any other friend. Upon further chatting you realise he genuinely feels like crawling inside a hole and never coming out. It doesn't surprise you, Taehyung has always been like that, going for the big gestures and self-doubt creeping in later.

You let yourself enjoy the normalcy and pretend that Taehyung is just another friend of yours and that he isn't someone who broke your heart.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Your phone has been buzzing and pinging since morning. Midnight to be specific. Birthday wishes have been flowing in with notes and gifs and with each message you feel more appreciated than you feel the rest three sixty-four days of the year. 

However, with each notification sound, there has also been that hope and expectation that maybe this one would be from Taehyung.

He had texted you a few days back reminding you of your upcoming birthday and although it's afternoon already, you don't really believe that he has forgotten the day altogether. 

When evening rolls around, you start growing sceptic. You squirm in your sofa, finally acknowledging that it's very well a possibility that your birthday might have slipped his mind. It makes you go back to the long, seven-hundred-word, letter he had written for your birthday, last year. 

The words make you smile.

Do you know how amazing you are? I don't think you do and it will be my job to make you see that.

Sometimes, I think I don't deserve you with how kind and loving you are but I'm so incredibly grateful for you that no amount of words would ever be enough.

I have never met someone like you, ever. 

Only a few lines from the massive paragraph that his greeting text was and the corner of your lips lift up. However, the moment is broken when you realise you're smiling. 

You shake your head as sadness fills you. You cannot let yourself recall old memories and feel the way they used to make you. It's not an option anymore.

Locking your screen, you sigh. You won't lie, you had really wanted a text from him. Anything that would show you that he still cares for you and the friendship between the both of you still held a chance. It's no wonder that you have been seeking some sort of reassurance after everything that he has done. 

It's around eleven at night that Taehyung's name first appears on your notification bar. You grin wide and open your text, glad to have been proven wrong and feeling stupid to have considered the idea of him forgetting your birthday. 

A link to a YouTube video.

Your grin disappears just as quickly and disappointment like nothing you have ever felt before, makes its way to your heart. 

You leave him on seen.

A day passes and you wonder if he will send at least a belated wish, apologising for not wishing you any sooner. But nope 

It's the day after that, the second day past your birthday when you check for any messages from him and you are led to his stories. It's slides of pictures of him and Bridget and the caption is him singing praises of her and telling the world how much in love he is because it's her birthday. 

That's your last straw.

It's probably a very small issue, forgetting birthdays and all. But to you, it's not. It just adds up to the pile of things that have made you feel like you were the only one who was taking into consideration the friendship that was at stake.

Plus, it cannot be that difficult to remember your birthday when his girlfriend's birthday is literally two days after yours. 

You have had enough. You need to walk out of Taehyung's life.  

Considering all that had made you fall for Taehyung, it's incredibly hard for you to believe that he doesn't know what he is doing and that he has forgotten basic decency. The option that was left with you, didn't make sense to you either because it implied he let you down intentionally. But the Taehyung you knew would never hurt a fly. 

It made you wonder if it was simply a result of his honeymoon phase that he had forgotten to consider how his actions could hurt people. Maybe he was too elated to think things through.  The empathetic part of you understood. But then you shook that away, knowing very well that if you were in his position, irrespective of how happy and high you were, you would never do that. 

Maybe you had realised that this was coming from the very day, he hadn't thought twice before mentioning his intimate moments with Bridget. But, boy oh boy, had you hoped to be wrong.

You had given him opportunities to prove you wrong, to give you a reason to stay but he only kept giving you reasons as to why you should leave.

It's an odd sensation that washes over you when you come to the conclusion that this isn't worth it anymore. 

You feel sad that the friendship is coming to an end. You're sure you'd miss his company and that there would be days when you mourn the friendship that once used to be. You know there would be times when you'd resent him and there would also be times when you'd feel angry at yourself for giving so much of you to him. 

But you won't ever regret your choice of leaving him. 

One thing this whole ordeal with Taehyung has made you realise is how deeply you love. How even in the midst of hurt, you were happy for him and how you saw and loved him for what he was and not for what he could be or for what he offered you. It made you take pride in the way you love. You gave him the purest form of love. 

A life where you and Taehyung are not friends, won't be your loss. It would be his. Irrespective of whether he realises that or not.

You feel oddly poweful with the knowledge that there was nothing lacking in your love and you'd never dishonour your love by staying where it isn't valued, appreciated and seen. 

But you also have a lot to say to him. You are not going to just block him and let him wonder why you did that. No, you'd tell him exactly why you left. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

It took you a couple of days to get down everything you wanted to say. There were times when you felt conscious of the ever-growing length of your letter and you had to shake off that feeling because this was going to be the last interaction between the both of you. Why stop yourself from saying everything you want to just because you're worried it'll be lengthy? 

You read the words one last time, wanting to make sure that you feel satisfied. 

Hello Taehyung, 

I hope you're doing fine. I wouldn't know how you're doing because we haven't had a proper conversation in quite some time. Or at least that is how it has felt to me. Nevertheless, I'm writing this because there's loads that I need to get off my chest. So, here we go.

When I saw you for the first time and we talked, I could feel you carried a lot of pressure on your shoulders. Almost like, you had something to prove, like you wanted to show that you weren't what you were perceived to be. Or maybe you wanted to prove that you were more than just what meets the eye. I didn't know what in particular. It felt like you wanted to be seen. 

And would you believe, I grew a soft spot for you? Do you know why? Because somewhere, I felt the same way too. 

I also knew we would be great friends, lol. You know how? Because I knew you had a heart of gold. You cared for others, you were thoughtful and kind. However, I could feel that you have a habit of being harsh on yourself and it didn't sit well with me. From the very first time we talked, I wanted to be a good friend to you, someone you could rely on, someone you could trust and someone who could possibly make you be a little less harsh on yourself. 

Perhaps with the weak spot, I also grew protective of you.

You were desperate for love and at the same time felt unworthy of it. I didn't know why though. I didn't know what had you believing so lowly about yourself. But then you told me about Kira, and it all made sense. 

It made sense why you felt unworthy and why you felt the need to prove that you were more than what others saw. Because, you believed Kira's words. You really thought you were unlovable. 

Instead of feeling the satisfaction of  being proved right, I felt so angry at Kira. I may have clawed her eyes out in my mind more than once. 

After learning the scars that she left on you, it only made me wish you could see yourself the way I do. I wished you could see that there was nothing you had to do to be loved except for just being you.

You may wonder why I'm suddenly saying all this. Well, let's just say it's necessary.

When you told me you were falling for me, I was surprised but then I felt myself feeling so warm at the thought of you liking me. It took me a few minutes to realise that I was falling for you too. 

But that was it. 

We never put a label on what we were and I was okay with it. Because I was okay with what we had, I never asked for anything because you were happy. You were also such a great friend, someone who I could talk to anything and everything about. What more could I ask for?

What's more? I could tell you were slowly coming out of whatever shell you were put in by Kira. I can't quite explain how it made me feel to see you smile more freely, to see you be more confident and be sure of yourself. But to put it lightly, it made me feel damn good lol.

I knew I had some part to play in it. I just didn't know that was the only part you wanted me to play. 

I moved past all that, trust me. You using my love as a rebound, making a girlfriend without even letting me know once, I moved past all that. Because, I trusted you when you told me you were confused and confusion is never intentional, is it? 

It hurt like a bitch to think that was all my love meant to you. But it was okay, you didn't mean to hurt me. You cared about me. You cared about our friendship. You valued it. 

Or so you said. 

I don't know if you meant it when you said it. But in case you did mean it, here are a few things not to do to the girl you used as a rebound and intend to keep the friendship with.

First, do not mention that you had sex with your new girlfriend. 

Second, do not be dumb enough to say "You sound like a typical guy whose heart has been broken" when you are the guy who's caused the damage. 

Third, do not send her the song you sang for your girlfriend and seek comfort to soothe the embarrassment you feel.

Fourth, do not ask her to read the poems you wrote for your girlfriend.

Fifth, do not forget her birthday when your girlfriend's is just two days later. 

These things didn't hurt me as much as it disappointed me. Would you believe, I laughed when you called me a typical heartbroken guy? When I got drunk the day before, my head was filled with thoughts of you and my heart was heavy with the knowledge that I was only a rebound. That day, even in the midst of alcohol, I chose our friendship over everything. I chose to forgive you. I chose to love you, still. But when you mentioned what you did, I just found it so funny to think that this was the guy I was thinking so much about and was so sad about. 

As it turns out, I'm not much fond of thoughtless people. 

But still, I hoped that somehow you'd give me a reason to stay. All you did, however, was turn a blind eye to my feelings and disrespected me.

If you were to ask me, whether my love for you is romantic or platonic, I wouldn't be able to tell. I have never sat and thought about it. All I know is I loved you, in one of the most unselfish ways possible. 

But that's not to say I don't realise how I deserve to be treated. And that's not to say that I'd stay somewhere where I'm an afterthought. 

When I said, I was happy for you and Bridget I really meant it and I hope you don't think that your relationship ever had a role to play in this decision of mine. It didn't, it was solely you that made me choose this option.

But this friendship of ours has run its course.

I would never disrespect myself by putting up with your disrespect. I loved you as long as you were worth it. But the moment you took my love for granted was the very moment you lost my respect and love, both. 

If you have made it to the end, then congrats! I didn't know if you'd read the whole thing but truth be told I don't particularly care about you reading it either. I wrote this for myself, not for you. 

Before I finish this long-ass letter, let me tell you something; you have lost one of the best people you'd ever meet in this lifetime. 

Thank you,

With Love,

The purest form.

Jeon Jungkook

His words echo in your mind and after an elongated pause, you find it in yourself to respond. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook gulps, hating how controlled your facial expressions are. In the months of knowing you, he has never seen you try this hard to hide your emotions. “Me and Niki are not actually a couple.”

“Thank you for rephrasing the sentence but I am afraid that it does not make things any clearer for me.”

Jungkook takes a sharp inhale and meets your eyes with uncertainty. “It’s just a PR stunt.”

It takes a few moments for the words to register but when they do, things start making sense, almost like puzzle pieces falling in place.

Namjoon’s hesitance in answering your question about the truth of their relationship. His lack of shock to the words you had heard Niki speak and most importantly, why Niki might have said those words. The whole relationship is not real to begin with.

“But, why?” The words leave your lips without your permission, before you’re able to catch them.

For a moment, he hesitates, wondering if it’s his place to say a few of the things he will have to, to make things clear.  But then he shakes off the worry, knowing Niki won’t mind.

“Both of our fandom, for some reason, ship us together. You know the whole ‘both are maknaes’ thing. Nevertheless, both of our companies thought it would be mutually beneficial for the two of us to put up this false act that we are dating.”

“How is it supposed to be mutually beneficial?” It doesn’t make sense to you. One of the oddest and most toxic traits of the kpop industry is how idols are expected to be loyal to their fans by remaining single. How then, a public relationship is supposed to garner anything except for unnecessary attention and hate?

“Niki is well, dating a youtuber. A female youtuber and pictures of them hanging out together didn’t take long to make it to the internet. Although at the beginning, everyone thought they were just good friends, soon there were questions as to whether it was just a simple friendship and well, people were not really happy with that idea,” he sighs, feeling tired just from thinking about everything that had led to this whole ordeal. “It wasn’t only about Niki dating a girl, it was also about her dating someone that wasn’t me. And of course, it was her girlfriend’s fault for coming between two people who are 'meant to be'. All of which ultimately made it incredibly difficult for the two of them to be at peace.”

You can imagine. The thought makes you sympathise with both of them. From Jungkook's words, it's clear the target was Niki’s girlfriend but you are sure it couldn’t have been easy for Niki to watch someone she loves hurt like that.

You understand Niki’s part of the deal. Putting up this font, would stop the threats and hate aimed at them but what was Jungkook supposed to get from this?

Jungkook looks at you and nods, acknowledging the unasked question. "When the offer first came, our company had turned it down, not seeing how it could benefit me. But I was the one who insisted and agreed."

"Why?" 

His discomfort grows and he swallows nervously, trying to gather his thoughts. "People are obsessed with me and Niki to the point where it's very predictable that they would hate it if someday I were to date someone who isn't her. I thought it would be good if we did this thing and people believed that we gave it a shot but it didn't work out. That way it would be one less thing I'd have to worry about while dating someone."

You put the thought behind of how it seems incredibly far-fetched and nod. He has answered your question about the nature of their relationship and why it was necessary. However, you still have a bunch of questions about a lot of things–starting with how crushed you felt when he moved you as Namjoon's make-up artist out of nowhere–but you do not wish to let them see the light of the day. 

Turning away, you start shuffling with some of the make-up products, indicating that the conversation is done. 

"Please say something," Jungkook pleads, tormented by your silence. 

"There's nothing more to say," you mutter, keeping away any emotion from being shown. 

"That can't be true."

You hate how sure he sounds. As if he is aware of every thought that's running in your head. As if he knows you a little too well. You absolutely despise how you might have believed the notion, once. Now, however, you do not want to. Because that'd mean he knew exactly how much hurt, his ignorance and pretence as if you don't even exist, caused you. 

"Y/N, please. We haven't talked for a long time. Please don't shut me out." 

Technically, you have two options. One, to keep ignoring him. Two, to snap at him and let every bit of your anger out. You had initially planned on sticking to option number one as it would make you look just as indifferent as Jungkook. However, now you find the option of letting words out without a filter, very appealing. 

"I know, I messed up but just talk to me–" the sound of a shaky exhale meets your ears, "–I miss spending time with you."

Well, that's some audacity. 

In the blink of an eye, you're facing Jungkook and taking several steps in his direction. You stop only a few steps away from him but you're close enough for him to notice the agony and pure rage storming through your eyes. 

"You better shut your mouth, Jeon." 

Jungkook flinches at your warning tone. However, he refuses to take the hint. "Y/N, ignoring me isn't going to solve–"

"Trust me, I'm not trying to solve anything," you speak through gritted teeth. "I'm just doing what I think is the right thing to do after someone disrespects you immensely."

"I wasn't trying to disrespect you," he claims, desperately trying to make you believe in something you don't buy for even a second.

"Yeah, ghosting me out of nowhere is not disrespecting me at all," your voice drops with sarcasm 

He feels his heart drop when you use the word 'ghosting'. Did you think that's what he did? Is that what it looked like? Gosh, this has all gotten messed up and he's the one to be blamed.

"I didn't ghost you," he mumbles, unable to look into your eyes and the sight of it causes all the pain that you had buried, to come to the surface. 

"Then please explain what it was," you voice waivers and you immediately hate yourself for showing weakness. "Please tell me what you thought you were doing by replacing me without even showing the basic decency to inform me that, yourself?"

He gulps, wondering if you'd even believe what he has to say. Even if you do, would you be willing to look past his stupidity?

"I found your note in my bag", you visibly flinch at the mention of the note. You had intentionally kept from mentioning your little confession, praying to whatever god is out there that somehow the note had been damaged before it reached the hands of the person they were meant to find. 

Jungkook notices your change of expression as it turns from hurt to embarrassed to anger and he despises himself for making you feel like that. "I had to make a quick decision and I didn't think you'd like to be my make up artist while I was fake dating Niki, especially without you having any knowledge about the fake part."

You stare at him blankly and try to process what he was saying. Did he–did he think he was doing you a favour by cutting you off?

You scoff, turn around and start packing your things with the intention of leaving the room. You're so done with this conversation.

When Jungkook understands your intention, he's quick on his feet and rushes to be right next to you. "Just give me the chance to explain myself fully."

You don't reply, your insides fuming.

"Y/N please," he begs. "Just hear me out once. Then I'll accept whatever it is that you decide for the both of us."

"I'm not gonna stand here and hear you speak utter bullshit that does nothing but let me down further."

Your voice comes with such a sense of finality that Jungkook knows, no matter how much he begs and pleads, you won't be giving him the opportunity to speak his side of things. 

Hence, he doesn't stop you when you walk past him and leave the room. But it only makes him more desperate for the day when you finally find it in your heart to give him a chance. Just one.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Jungkook has been persistent. Perhaps a little too persistent with his attempts to earn your forgiveness. Or at least that's what you assume the bouquets of flowers and little notes you find everyday at work are for. 

It's not only the flowers, it's also his constant texting and voicemails. His texts vary from a simple 'hi, what are you doing' to 'please, i miss you' and his voicemails have been a mix of him telling you about his day (something he used to do regularly when you were his makeup artist) to a more emotional version of his texts begging you to talk to him. 

You won't lie, his incessant pleadings have made you curious what more could he possibly have to say. What could be so different from what he has already said that he is so desperate? 

On one hand, you find an odd sense of satisfaction from not responding to Jungkook despite all his efforts. You don't know what that makes you but after the hurt and embarrassment you felt to the point where you had to numb yourself to block those emotions out, his tries and attempts feel like an ointment to your wounds. On the other hand, however, is a voice nagging you as to how, this cannot go on for long. The huge bouquets that wait for you everyday are soon going to catch attention and if anyone were to catch a hint of who it is from…gosh, you don't want to imagine that.

But when you will find it in yourself to have a conversation with him, still remains unknown. All you know is whenever that will be, it will be solely because you don't want word to go out. Yes, that's all it will be. 

Today when you walk into Namjoon's dressing room, there's another bouquet waiting for you. The sight of it causes you to sigh. You don't know what Namjoon thinks of this but you're thankful that he hasn't mentioned it yet. That however, made it quite clear that he has some idea as to who they are from.

You let the flowers be where they are. You have never really taken them home or put them in water, afraid that it would be interpreted as you being accepting of his efforts, when you're far from it. You're still hurt and angry. 

If anything, sometimes you despise walking into a room full of flowers as they serve as a reminder of the thoughts you had before confessing to him. You remember thinking how confessing felt like putting a delicate unbloomed flower in someone's hand and whether the bud gets to bloom or not, depends on the person you're confessing to. 

If only you had known of the thorns you would be exposed to, back then, you'd never have confessed. 

The door swings open softly and Namjoon walks in. "Good morning, Y/N."

"Good morning," you greet him back with a smile. 

"So what's on card for today?" He asks before taking his usual seat. 

"There's nothing much for today, just rehearsals and then you have a v-live," you mumble. "But firstly I need to do your weekly facial."

He huffs. "Is it the one that requires you putting a lot of slimy stuff on my face and it stays on for like thirty minutes?" 

"Yep," you reply with a light laugh. Despite what he says, you have learnt that Namjoon quite enjoys his facial sessions. Unlike a certain someone. 

Your smile falters and your sudden change of mood doesn't go unnoticed by Namjoon. 

"Have you considered speaking to Jungkook?" He asks after a brief moment of silence. 

You're taken aback by his words. Namjoon has always avoided speaking on the matter. He has never even queried as to what you do with the flowers. Hence, his direct way of questioning has you fumbling with words. 

"I d–haven't," you change your wording, fearing 'I don't want to', might just be a little too rude. 

However, your choice of answer is put to vain with the very next question he asks. "Do you want to?" 

"I don't want to," you softly shake your head, mildly afraid how Namjoon will interpret it.

He simply nods, without any trace of judgement. "I'm not saying this because I'm picking sides, but I have known Jungkook since he was a kid and I can tell that he really is sorry. 

"Whether to forgive him or not, is completely on you. But put a little trust on him that he must have some reason behind doing what he did. Just hear him out once."

You keep quiet, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Namjoon understands that and soon changes the topic of conversation to something more light-hearted. 

Hours later, when everything comes to a close and it's time for you to leave, you find yourself hesitating. Namjoon's words simply refuse to leave your mind. Put a little trust in him. How can you, when he's let you down in every way possible? When he has betrayed your trust in ways that still keep hurting you? 

You gulp when you realise there's probably no end to the hurting until you have a chat with Jungkook and hear his side. At least, that way you will know his reasoning behind everything and it will hopefully stop your self loathing for putting the note in his bag. Even if all he gives is excuses, you'd at least have the satisfaction of having heard him out. Later maybe a week, or a month from now, when your emotions subside, you wouldn't have this unscratched itch of not knowing what he had to say. 

Maybe, maybe it's for the best that you talk to him.

—-----------------------------------------------------

"Come in," Jungkook calls out in response to the knock at his door and is visibly surprised when you walk in. He quickly gets up from his seat, stuffs his phone in his pocket and with a nervous voice asks, "would you like some coffee?"

You shake your head. You're not here for coffee. "No, thank you. I'm here to talk to you."

He nods as his nervousness spikes. This is what he has wanted and hoped for so long, but now that you're here, he doubts you will believe him. What if you don't? Even worse, what if you do and still don't forgive him?

The both of you get seated and your fingers anxiously play with the strap of your handbag. "What is it that you have been wanting to tell me?"

Jungkook sighs. Pushing the nervousness away, he knows that the only thing in his power is to tell you his side of things. Otherwise, he's powerless. 

"For the things I said last day, to make sense, I would have to mention that I like you," he cannot find it in himself to look at you as he says that. "I've liked you for a long time."

The words take you by surprise, and your mouth parts in shock. The shock then morphs into disbelief and denial. He did not just confess to liking you.

"But it's never that simple when you're a famous K-pop idol," something bitter coats his words and he looks defeated. "The consequences of dating me, is something that one doesn't realise until they face it for themselves."

Jungkook has grown a thick skin. But you? He doesn't want you to be someone who ever has to go through things that require you to build a thick skin. He doubts he will ever forgive himself if he were to see you beaten up by harsh words and constant criticism, all because of your association to him.

"I wanted to tell you how I felt but just the sheer terror of what you may have to go through, kept me from doing so," an unwanted shiver runs through his body when he recalls the moments where the fluttering in his chest would always be accompanied by a heavy sinking in his stomach. "It wasn't my choice to stress about these things but I couldn't help myself considering that associating with me had consequences."

Your face falls with each word that leaves his lips. 

"It was choosing between giving into my feelings and listening to logic. I tried to be logical and practical for as long as I could. Until, I just couldn't," a humourless chuckle escapes his lips. "I remember thinking that I just need to tell you how you make me feel."

He doesn't voice how there was a part of him that had wished you'd not reciprocate his feelings. That way, even after his sheer selfishness, things would be fine. 

"It was around the time I decided on confessing to you, that I learnt about the proposition from Niki's agency. Call me incredibly stupid but I thought if I did this, I'd at least do something instead of sitting and dreading with my hands tied." Jungkook shakes his head, finding it cruel that even after all this, he somehow managed to mess everything up. 

Your mouth parts unknowingly when the pieces click. Jungkook's decision to date Niki for the cameras, didn't come out of nowhere and it wasn't as far-fetched as you thought. His decision had come from a place of anxiety where he felt powerless. 

"But then I found that note," he cannot help but recall that day fondly. He felt like a kid and often found himself smiling, looking into the mirror. However, that joy was soon wiped off when the situation sank in. "I was so excited and happy, but then I realised that I had already agreed to date Niki."

You hardly blink as Jungkook speaks and due to that, you don't miss the way a smile appears on his lips. But it's gone as soon as it appears, as if he catches himself slipping and reprimands himself for it. It makes you consider the possibility if he was receptive to your confession in a positive way. 

"I didn't know what to do, I couldn't imagine letting you know that I felt the same but then going out and holding another woman's hand. Even if it's for the cameras, it's–," he closes his eyes shut as if pained, "–it's horrible."

"I couldn't do that but I also needed to make a quick decision. I thought the only way to go about things was to postpone answering your confession. After the announcement of the breakup with Niki, I thought I could talk to you then and clear things out. At that moment, that was the only option that made sense to me."

His words take you back to the day when you were filled with nervous excitement only for it to be replaced with dread and heartbreak when you learnt that Jungkook had replaced you as his makeup artist, just like that. 

"It was stupid, I know," he mutters in a small voice. "I don't have anything to say in my defence except for admitting that I messed things up and I didn't realise what it must have looked like to you, until it was too late." 

He paused for a few moments, looking exhausted. "I-I am sorry for everything. I know it's hard to believe but hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do. I really just wanted to make things right. If you can, please, forgive me."

You sense that to be the end of everything Jungkook had to say. The way he looks at the floor and refuses to look at you, makes you want to comfort him. But your feelings are too muddled, you're too confused and there's a lot that you have learnt that has left you surprised. You don't think you're in the state of mind to make decisions now. 

"Thank you for telling me everything," you keep your voice soft. It gives Jungkook the courage to finally look up at you and his breath hitches when he realises you aren't looking at him with your gaze filled with hate and pain. It gives him hope. "But I need some time to process everything." 

Jungkook nods, knowing that's the best he can ask for at the moment. He's relieved that you aren't dismissing his words and feels incredibly grateful that you are taking time to think things through. He knows that you taking time is more for yourself than for him, but there's a hint of a promise that this is not the end of the conversation, that you'll talk to him again. And that's more than anything Jungkook can ever ask for.

—-----------------------------------------------------

The last few days, your mind has been completely occupied with Jungkook's words. Not only his words but also the way he looked refuses to leave your mind. You couldn't find it in yourself to doubt his genuineness and the fact that he was feeling terrible, was displayed in green neon lights. 

You had to remind yourself repeatedly that it isn't only about how he feels. You should cater to your feelings and figure out what to do next. 

There was also the new revelation that Jungkook liked you. Quite honestly, you didn't know what to do with that information. The whole conversation was melancholic and it must have rubbed off on you for you didn't feel the joy one usually does on learning that their crush likes them back. 

Everything was quite confusing. So much so, that it had taken an entirety of five days for you to sort out your thoughts and approach Jungkook. 

He sits across from you in a pale blue shirt and black trousers, his body language screams that he's nervous and oddly enough it comforts you to know that you aren't the only one feeling that way. 

"After learning everything, I couldn't help but wish you had communicated before. It would have saved the both of us a lot of hurt," you begin with a sombre tone, feeling your heart hurt at the constant overthinking you have had to go through. "Things might have been simpler that way." 

"I know," Jungkook nods, not having a single word to defend himself with. 

You look at him a moment longer wondering if he would try providing  you with a reason for his lack of communication. When he doesn't, you're confused how you're supposed to perceive it. 

On one hand, you'd have liked for him to actually have a proper reason. On the other, you're sure Jungkook is aware of his mistakes and his lack of response somehow gives the impression that he's owning up to everything without making excuses. 

"But what's done is done and there's no changing it," you continue after a small sigh. "It's for the best that we move on from it."

Jungkook's heart shrinks. By moving on do you mean just never acknowledging the feelings you both share for each other? That's exactly what comes to his mind because you feeling the same way you did, despite the hurt he has caused you, sounds too good to be true. He cannot be shameless either to ask you about it directly. He will take whatever you will give him. 

Instead, he asks a question which he knows would eat him alive if he doesn't voice it. "Can you forgive me?" 

"I wouldn't have asked for the both of us to move on, if I hadn't already," and then you do something that makes Jungkook feel like a ton of bricks have been lifted off from his chest. You smile at him.

Forgiving Jungkook wasn't easy. You wanted to hold on to the anger because your pride was hurt and most importantly, you were scared of getting hurt again. But then you also had to think through things logically. 

Jungkook has never had it easy with fame. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the way he has always been under scrutiny and his sudden loss of control over his own life. With time, he learnt that it was for the best to not pay attention to the people who weren't even familiar with him. 

He could overlook and turn deaf to the hate that's thrown his way. However, his loved ones being targeted is something that fills him with guilt to an inexplicable amount. You have seen it yourself. 

The incident isn't that old. A year back, Jungkook had gone out with a bunch of his childhood friends. He was pictured closing the car door for one of them, who so happened to be a girl. That one single shot was enough for the media and internet to decide there must be something more than platonic going between the two. 

You remember the way Jungkook was so troubled and absolutely heartbroken with the hate and threats that were aimed at his friend, for something so simple and it was visible to everyone that he blamed himself for it.

You cannot imagine what kind of stones would be thrown at you if word got out. The information that you're his makeup artist would be a cherry on top. Gold digger, witch, slut, whore; some of the less colourful terms. 

Seeing the way Jungkook suffered, it made sense why he would be so scared to be open about his feelings. You could imagine yourself feeling the same way had it been you being in his place. Seeing someone you care for, getting hate that they absolutely don't deserve, is painful enough for one to believe that it's for the best to keep distance. 

You also imagined what you would have felt had Jungkook admitted his feelings and had told you about the fake dating. Yes, you'd have the knowledge that there was nothing real between him and Niki. However, you'd also have to see them all over the internet and watch people go on and on about how perfect they are. You'd be aware that Jungkook likes you, but you'd also be bitter about how the beginning of your relationship is marked with him publicly dating someone else. It's not exactly a nice feeling. 

One could argue that the way events have turned out, they aren't perfect either. But there's nothing going on between Jungkook and you. At least, not yet. 

That's one thing that you both need to talk about and you really want to clear out everything, at once. Who knows what miscommunication would occur if things were left unsaid, again? 

"I would never intentionally hurt you, Y/N,"Jungkook squirms a little in his seat, ignoring the absence of the weight that has been eating him alive for days. He thinks you're going easy on him and he thinks he doesn't deserve it. 

"I am choosing to trust your words," you reply, having a sense of the turmoil Jungkook seems to be going through. The fact that he is always hard on himself is not unknown to you. "All I ask from you is to not break my trust. And for you to accept that you do not have to burden yourself with responsibilities."

Jungkook knows it's hard for him to not feel like there's always a bunch of responsibilities on his shoulder. Especially when one moment of misjudgement can cause irreversible damage. Despite that, he feels a sense of warmth spread throughout his body at your words. 

"I'll try."

You shoot Jungkook another smile; the second one this evening and he can't help but think that you should really stop giving him hope.

"There's one more thing that we need to talk about," your cheeks turn red and much like Jungkook earlier, it's your turn to squirm in your seat. "You said something about liking me."

You feel awkward at the choice of your words but then you aren't brave enough to start by mentioning your note of confession. 

Jungkook's eyes turn as wide as saucers and his whole face flushes to match the shade of your cheeks. He really wasn't expecting for you to bring it up. "Umm yeah," he nods. 

You feel a spark of impatience and annoyance at his short response. You took it upon yourself to bring the topic to the table and he cannot just spill everything, already? Why make it more difficult for you? 

"Yeah…..so?" You look at him with your brows raised, trying your best to ignore the way you feel like a three year old shy girl, on the inside. 

"I–I do like you," he stutters and looks away, for the umpteenth time, unable to meet your eyes. 

Your heart takes a fucking long jump. Who would have thought Jeon Jungkook would be so shy about admitting his feelings? 

"What should we do about it?" You intentionally use the 'we' for Jungkook to catch the hint that you want to do something about it. 

But of course, he doesn't. 

He speaks sullenly, "I have lost the right to have a say in the matter." 

"I want you to have a say in the matter. Tell me, Jungkook, what do you want?" You refuse to let go of the conversation and for Jungkook to let his guilt swallow him. He messed up, there's no denying that. But you could always acknowledge the fact that his heart was in the right place. 

Feelings of frustration makes his throat clogged up . "I just want to go back and redo things in a different way."

"That's not possible. What do you want to do now?"

He knows what he wants but voicing it, feels being ungrateful towards your forgiveness. It feels like he's being greedy. "What I do want, feels like too much to ask for."

"You'll never know until you ask for it." 

He sighs and reminds himself that you're asking him about the romantic feelings he has admitted to harbouring towards you. He reminds himself to not be selfish and make it about his guilt. If you want to know, he will tell you and he will be honest about it. 

"I want to be with you," his admission is made in a small voice but it doesn't hide the clarity his words have. 

Your breath hitches and you feel the soft pitter patter of your heart that you had missed when he admitted his feelings for you the first time around. 

"When does this fake relationship of yours end?" 

"A month from now."

You nod. "A month from now, take me out on a date and we will see."

Jungkook's eyes snap to yours, not having expected you to speak those words. You shoot him a small smile before getting up and leaving the room. 

—-----------------------------------------------------

SIX MONTHS LATER

"I swear to god, if you don't stay still, I'll intentionally ruin your makeup."

Your threatening low tone goes in through one ear and comes out of the other. "You could never do that."

"Don't test my limits."

A pout makes its appearance. "But that's my favourite thing to do."

You sigh in both astonishment and in love. 

How do you manage to repeat the same routine with the same man everyday and never get tired of it? Maybe it has everything to do with the way your heart keeps stuttering around this man.

No, the man sitting in front of you, is not the global superstar Jeon Jungkook. 

The man sitting in front of you is your boyfriend, Jungkook. 

The official tag on your relationship was put four months ago, after a month of going out on dates. When you say going out, you mean staying in the hybe building and arranging dates in as innovative a way as one can. 

The month in which Jungkook had to pretend to be Nikki's boyfriend only proved to you why it would have been difficult for you had you and Jungkook actually been a thing at the time. It was already painful and as petty and irrational as it may sound, it also made you jealous when you would see articles of the two of them. You're not quite sure how humilated you would have felt if you two were to be dating at the time and to see people comment on how they are a match made in heaven.

That one month, for Jungkook, was a mix of everything. The beginning of the month came with constant doubts and shame where he wondered what he should do when the month is up. He wanted you but he didn't really think he deserved you. But then he had to make up his mind; he made a mistake and he always acknowledged that but it would be so incredibly foolish if he were to let that stop him from being with you. After a week or so, he had made up his mind. He messed up, but boy if he wasn't going to make up for it.  

That whole month was spent with him brainstorming ideas on how he can show his sincerity and be a better man. Somewhere along the line, he had opened up to Niki about it and there's just a hundred percent chance that if he's smiling wide in one of those paparazzi pictures, he's talking about you.

Jungkook has been nothing but the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for. Any hurt or doubt was washed away soon after the both of you started going out. Being with Jungkook was so much more than you could have ever imagined. 

A month after being together, you were back as Jungkook's make-up artist. It was the best way to go about it as it would keep the both of you away from suspicious eyes and give the both of you ample amount of time to spend with each other. 

You both are aware that at some point, you'd have to inform the agency of the nature of your relationship as that'd be better than them finding it out from other sources. You're not quite sure what would be left of your job, but Jungkook seems quite sure that you won't be fired and that the members together, would somehow manage the higher authorities to make their rules more flexible. 

Jungkook isn't worried about the consequences with hybe, but he still finds himself stressing about the day the news becomes public. That is where you reassure him, that whatever happens, you both will get through it, together. You also remind him to not fret about it too much, because there's a long way to go before things are made public. For the time being, it's just the two of you. 

"No wait, that's actually my second favourite thing," Jungkook corrects himself. "My top favourite might just be kissing you."

You fight the blush trying to make an appearance and ask, "might?"

"The last time you kissed me was ten minutes ago. Forgive me for forgetting what it was like to be kissed by you."

As cute and adorable as Jeon Jungkook might be in front of the cameras, you have recently learned that he's just as sly and playful when he wants to be. 

"Will you stay still if I kiss you?" 

"Kiss me first and then you shall have your answer." 

So you do. 

Your soft lips are welcomed eagerly by his and they move against each other, tenderly without a hint of rush. Your breaths mingle and soft sighs escape as your hands get tangled in his hair. 

When you part, there's only a hair's gap between the two of you, "So what's the verdict?" 

Jungkook's doe eyes appear dazed as he looks at you. "Well my brain has turned into a mush, so you can totally expect me to stay still."

You giggle and the sound of it warms Jungkook's heart like nothing ever has. 

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

A/N: i was so anxious about making this so long especially the Taehyung part but then the Taehyung part is something that happened to me irl, so i also just wanted it to be as real as possible. For Jimin, it just didn't feel right for the reader to agree to go out or be with Jimin without him earning it. But then, it also didn't quite fit in this reaction thing, if that makes sense? If y'all want some good ol' grovelling from this Jimin in a one-shot i will see what I can come up with 😉.

That being said, let me know what you thought of this! (This really was a lot of work, so your words would be greatest source of encouragement and achievement for me). Also, if you like my work and wish to have access to all my works before anyone else, here's my patreon!

Hope you enjoyed reading this!

#BTS FF #Bts au #BTS reactions #bts ot7 #Ot7 reactions #Maknae line #BTS angst #BTS fic #BTS unrequited au #Jimin angst #Jimin FF #Jimin au #Fuckboi Jimin #Jimin scenarios #Taehyung angst #Taehyung au #Taehyung scenarios #taehyung reaction #Jimin reaction #Jungkook au #Jungkook FF #Jungkook angst #Jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #Jungkook reaction #Idol Jungkook #Jimin x Reader #Taehyung x reader

[clbrq]

UH OH - C. BROCK & S. GOLBACH

warnings: SMUT, cursing/swearing, alcohol consumption. i love this idea (not requested)

MINORS DNI.

-/-

One night stand’s weren’t usually your thing—you found it distasteful. You preferred to get absolutely ruined by a guy who wanted you for you; not just for a quick fuck. Tonight, however, you were willing to bend your morals for the angel God had dropped from heaven in front of you.

Cole Robert Brock, more commonly known as Colby, had the hidden arousal inside you brewing from the second you laid your eyes upon his glorious presence. He was beautiful—gorgeous eyes, body, face and personality. You were practically drooling all over this man before he’d even introduced himself.

The club you were at was packed—sweaty bodies grinding together to the obnoxiously loud music that was blasting around the room. You weren’t a massive fan of clubs, either, but due to your ‘party animal’ friends birthday; you were forced to come along for her special night.

And whilst ordering a shot to ease the tiredness that bugged your brain, that’s where you bumped into Colby, sipping on a glass of whiskey, watching the scenery behind him.

“You not having a good night?” He had spoke up, drawing your attention away from the burning sensation in your throat.

Looking up to meet his ocean blue eyes, you chuckled at his words, “Nope. I’d rather be asleep right now.”

Returning the noise, Colby scooted close to you, “Me too,” He informed you, “My friend recently got out of a long relationships so he wants to get hammered to forget about her.”

“Damn,” You breathed, “I wish my story was that deep. It’s my friends birthday—she’s a wild card, so likes to get drunk every chance she can get.”

“You not that kind of girl?”

Smiling at him, his pearly whites flashing at you causing a feeling inside you hadn’t felt in a while, “I can when I want to be. Just not on a Wednesday night.”

Colby laughed with you, bringing the delicately decorated glass cup to his pink lips, letting the bitter drink slip down his throat, “I like girls like that.”

“You do?” You almost whispered, as if to hide the arousal in your body like it would be evident in your voice.

“Mhm.” He replied, your eyes meeting—your lips parting as his blue iris’ stared deeply into yours, sparking an unusual excitement in you.

And that’s how you ended up inside a cramped bathroom stall; sweaty and wet with Colby’s cock ramming inside you.

You’d never felt like this before. Every guy you’d ever been with sexually had never made you feel as good as Colby was right now. The way he would rub circles on your sensitive clit as he pounded his dick deep inside your aching hole made your legs shake with every thrust.

“Fuckkk,” Colby dragged, his head lolling forward to rest in the crevice of your shoulder, causing an arch in your back as you reacted to his hot, alcohol ridden breath on your skin.

Your nimble fingers were tugging on his hair, occasionally pulling at the brunette strands when the tip of his cock abused the sweet spot inside you, erupting a loud moan from your mouth.

To allow you to not get caught, Colby connected your swollen lips, kissing you swift and hard to erase the sound of your pornographic whines of pleasure. Your tongues danced around as the grip of his ring-filled hands against your hips grew tighter as his balls did too.

“Oh, shit, I’m gonna cum.” He mumbled against you, pulling away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the cord in your stomach snapped, ripping an aggressive orgasm out of you both. The way Colby’s desperate voice mixed with his quick fingers against your clit caused you to cream around his twitching cock. Colby spilt his warm seem deep inside your quivering hole, as he breathed deeply against your face. The stench of neat Whiskey wafting up your nose while you both came down from your highs.

Soon enough, Colby pulled out slowly, apologising quietly as you winced at the feeling. Then, proceeding to help you back into your clothes, and doing the same for himself.

An awkward silence erupted in the stall as you straightened out your small skirt, not looking at the man who had given you the best orgasm of your life.

“Hey, gimme your number,” He uttered, breaking the silence, “I don’t just fuck and dip.”

Agreeing with him quietly, you took his phone from his hands, typing in your number before handing it back. He thanked you, as he unlocked the bathroom door, letting you leave first.

After the encounter from the stall, you lost Colby in the crowd. You were doubtful he would text you, but the thought was nice. He was an attractive guy, and probably had a lot of girls he could do that with, whenever he wanted—you weren’t special.

Oh, boy, were you wrong.

As you climbed into bed that evening, feeling the alcohol rush through your body as you stilled for the first time this evening, a loud notification rang from your phone—causing you to jump in surprise. Picking up your phone, an unknown number had sent you a message.

Unknown: Hey, thank you for tonight. You’re definitely not the kind of girl you made yourself to be.

You chuckled at the message, thinking back at the conversation you had previously before your arousing fuck.

You: The pleasure is all mine. I don’t do that kinda stuff, so count yourself lucky.

Unknown: Believe me, I do. Hope you got home safe, goodnight stranger.

Smiling to yourself as you locked your phone, you fell asleep with a full heart—your mind swelling with the images of your night.

But you thought to yourself, that was only a one time thing—‘I won’t do that again.’

Again, how wrong you could be.

Approximately 3 days after your encounter with Colby, your found yourself at another public setting with your friends. This time, it was a friend of a friend’s party in downtown Los Angeles. And this ‘friend of a friend’ hosted massive, popular parties, where hundreds of people attended.

Not your usual thing you do for fun, but your earlier experience with Colby had sparked a confidence in you that you hadn’t seen before.

And that’s exactly how you got talking to Sam Golbach.

A famous, well-liked social media star, who was recently single, and at the party to socialise with as many new people as possible. And to ultimately get as drunk as he possible could withstand. After a few drinks of your own, Sam’s words were going in one ear, and out the other as you watched his face closely—thoroughly enjoying the way his eyes would trail down to your cleavage every now and again.

Gnawing on your lip as he spoke, you grabbed his hand boldly, “Hey, I saw something really cool upstairs, wanna come see?”

Sam could see blatantly past your lie, knowing exactly what was on your mind. And how that so obvious lie, and his incredible discovery skills was what lead to have Sam’s long cock down your throat in a random bedroom.

Music blared from downstairs as Sam pushed your head down onto his dick, groaning at the way your throat contracted around him as you gagged. Tears brimmed in your eyes as your tongue effortlessly licked the underside of his cock, adding to his pleasure.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He mumbled, his eyes never leaving your glossy ones as he watched you devour his member.

Moving your head upwards, you suckled on his angry tip, whining at the taste of his pre-cum as your hand crept up to jerk the base off. Sam’s head threw back as he lost himself in the pleasure while you worked your magic with your mouth. Sam’s dick was long, skinnier than most, but exceeding in length. The cause for your struggle as he fucked your throat.

Looking up to see his handsome face, you moaned around him as your eyes met. Sam had gorgeous eyes, blue and mesmerising—evidently drawing you in to the situation. He also had well-cared for hair, his blonde locks sticking to his forehead as he sweat from the heat erupting from his body. You know they’d feel good being pulling on as he fucked you.

Taking you by surprise, you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth as a string of curses fell from his lips—his salty cum shooting at the back of your throat.

“Yeah, take all my cum, baby.” Sam breathed, his eyes screwed shut in ecstasy as he held tightly onto your hair, holding your head in place as he finished.

Swallowing his load, you lifted your lips from his cock, and wiping your mouth clean from any spillages. Sam was already staring down at you with a lopsided smile on his flushed face.

“You’re incredible.”

“I’ve been told.” You joked, cheekily giggling up at him, erupting a head shake from him.

Sam didn’t speak another word as he handed you his phone, “Put your number in, I wanna see you again.” You smiled as you put your information inside his contacts and handed it back to him.

As you both fixed yourselves up, and headed back down to that party, going your separate ways; you pondered about how on God’s green Earth did you manage to have some sort of sexual interaction with two different guys in the space of a few days.

You’re weren’t like that, you never had been. It was extremely out of character for you, leading you to not inform your friends about your situation. You knew they’d be shocked, and dim your spark.

Sighing deeply, you poured yourself a drink, practically inhaling the mixture as you grimaced at the taste. You wanted to feel something other than total arousal right now.

“Hey, stranger.”

A familiar voice rang in your ears as you swivelled round to be greeted by your first one night stand of the week, Colby Brock, in all his sexy glory.

“Hey,” You replied, suddenly feeling ashamed of the blowjob you just gave to another ‘stranger.’

“Will you come with me? I wanna introduce you to my best friend.” Colby queried, smiling sweetly at you.

Your heart melted at his expression, suddenly feeling the need to do as he asked, “Sure, lead the way.”

As Colby carefully navigated you through the bustling crowds, your stomach flipped with nerves at the feeling of his hand in yours. Colby was sweet—you knew he didn’t just want you for your body.

“So, this is my best friend, Sam. Sam, this is the girl I was telling you about.”

Sam. Sam. Sam.

Your face dropped as your eyes met with the all too recognisable blue ones that were just staring seductively down at you as he came down your throat. The acts from tonight and a few days prior flashed before your eyes as you realised what you had done.

“Uh oh.”

-

I NEED PROPER SLEEP IM SO SORRY MY POSTING ISNT AS REGULAR

@atiny-99

@mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

@peachhiz

@theyloveniqueeeee

@reem6806

@lovely-red2

@morchilluv

@cam1ly

@paymal7

#colby brock #colby brock angst #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fics #colby brock fluff #colby brock headcanon #colby brock smut #colby brock smut x reader #colby brock x reader #colby x reader #sam golbach fics #sam golbach smut x reader #sam golbach headcanon #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach smut #sam golbach #sam and colby #sam and colby smut x reader #sam and colby x reader #sam and colby fics #sam and colby fanfiction #sam and colby smut #corey scherer #tara yummy #katrina stuart #jake webber #jake webber x reader #johnnie guilbert

[lightwing-s]

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: when you're desperate for a quick shower, the last thing you expected was for it to last this too long, or for you to be accompained by a boy.

word count: 4,6k warnings: shower sex, oral sex (m receiving), handjob, language

a/n: it's 4am and I need to wake up for work at 6am, but I promised myself i'd finish it today (or yesterday) and so i did. not proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes. hope you enjoy, much love ♡.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

Throbbing pain consumed your frontal lobe

It was way past the usual time practice ended. Way past. All your teammates stood around the coach for a prolonged scolding session after the team had lost the past two matches in a not so nice —extremely bad—, manner.

The season had barely started and you could see in everyone’s eyes they were all already exhausted. And so were you.

Your legs burnt from all the exercise, feeling like your muscles were about to rip open at any moment. Your scalp itched, as the sweat settled on your hair, leaving it oily and stinky. Gosh, you needed a shower.

Time did not seem to pass. No, the coach did not seem to ever want to stop talking.

Taking a glimpse to your right, you catch sight of your best friend impatiently standing on the bleaches. One of her legs shaking and her arms crossed on her chest. “Shit” you whispered to yourself, as you knew another scolding was doomed the minute you stepped out of the court.

You didn’t know why you’d agreed to attend Johnson’s party with her. You’re upset over the team's recent performances, crowded with school work, and your parents had been bugging you about their holiday plans all week. Clear to say, your head was too full to attend a party tonight, and you were solely going for the unquestionable loyalty you had towards your friends.

Nessie had been annyong you the entire month about this party. Johnson was this frat guy she shared a few classes with, and she had been drooling over him since the semester started. So when he personally invited her to tonight’s party, it became the only thing she talked about for weeks and sealed the next steps into her imaginary relationship with the guy.

When the coach finally decided that he had enough of calling you all shitty athletes and dismissed you for the day, a swarm of players desperately headed out to the changing rooms in hopes of a well deserved shower. 

You, on the other hand, were stopped in your way by your friend, who had rushed towards you as soon as she heard the coach say “See you tomorrow”.

“Let’s go?” she pouted, making you roll your eyes at her very evident desperation.

“I just need to take a shower.” you bemoaned, feeling disgusted by the sweat and the sticky sensation all over your body. You had been practicing for hours, rolling on the floor, running around. You just wanted to get rid of all traces of sweat and dirt from your body. Her pout, however, only grew larger. “Do you really want me to show up all stinky to this party?”

In all honesty, you didn’t really want to show up at all. But you had promised, and your damned loyalty wouldn’t allow you to back off now. She wanted you to go, or more so need you there for moral support, either if he came onto her and she didn’t know what to do, or the unspoken possibilities of him ignoring her or finding him with someone else.

“You do stink a little. Please, be quick” she moaned, hands together in a praying position, and you gave her an amused smile and a push towards the side, clearing your way out of where you stood. 

Following in the direction the hoard of girls had just walked through, you jogged your way to the locker room in hopes of finally taking that well deserved shower. However, you hadn’t counted on the handball team also practicing till the late hours of the night, and now the locker room looked more like an electronics store on black friday than an university bathroom.

Each and everyone of the shower cabins were full, and ladies lined outside its doors waiting for the moment they’d be free. It would take you a lot longer than you had imagined, and you could already feel your best friend fuming outside if you had to make her wait any longer than you had promised. 

Grabbing your bags, you walked out and in her direction. “Let’s go. I’ll change in your car.”

“But you haven’t showered?” she inquired.

“We’re never gonna make it in time. Locker rooms are full.” you stated, taking her hand and trying to walk away, to which she held her ground and refused to move.

“You’re not going like this,” her features softened, and she looked at you with kindness in her eyes. “You want to shower, so go.” she ordered, arms crossing over the deep cleavage of her bright red top, in sort of a motherly way. “I’ll wait.”

“Johnson is waiting for you” you tried to persuade, but she shook her head again.

“Party is not ending anytime soon. And looking on the brighter side, we’ll get him thinking of me all the time, wondering if we’re coming or not, you know.”

You gave her a smile, admiring how her little mind worked. Fixing the bag on your shoulder, you turned to go inside the room you once were, but seeing girls hanging around the entrance made you give up instantly. “But, there’s so many people. We could go home and shower there in the same amount of time.”

“And cross the city twice?” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up. “Isn’t there another place you can shower?”

“There’s the boys locker room.” you remembered.

“Are there any boys’ sports teams practicing today?”

“Not that I remember.” And holding your hand, she dragged you around the corridors towards the boys’ locker room. 

The two of you sneaked around every corner, checking to see if anyone was around. Failing to meet anybody, you arrived at the room in no time. It was empty and you could hear your lone footsteps echoing on the gray walls.

“This smells so much of testosterone.” Nessie noted, looking around the room like a little kid in Disneyland, but face scrunched in disgust.

“It’s the boy’s locker room, Nessie. Of course it’d smell like that.” you laughed, stacking your clothes and a towel over the door of the stall you had chosen to shower in, on the far corner of the locker room. When you fish for your shampoo and conditioner from inside your bag, however, you’re met with the complete absence of both. “Nessie…?” you called, hearing a hum in response. “I forgot my shampoo and conditioner.”

“Are you serious!?” she screamed, and not daring to look at the side to see her, you could picture her standing there with her arms on her waist, and the biggest annoyed expression on her face. “I have some in the car, just wait right there.” she sighted, immediately running past you on her way to the door.

“It’s not like I can’t go anywhere.” you tried to lighten the mood as you heard her footsteps leaving your earshot. “Oh! And get me soap too! Nessie, I love you!”

You watched her disappear through the large double doors leading to the corridors, the rapid sounds of her footsteps bouncing off the walls and into your ears, a big contrast to the otherwise silent room you were left in once she was gone from earshot.

A deep exhale left your lungs. The silence and emptiness, somehow, a much more comfortable ambience. Still wrapped around a towel, you grabbed your bag from where it stood on one of the benches, leaving the locker area and making way to an empty shower stall. 

Gladly, the university opted out of open showers and gave students individual stalls instead, thankful for the privacy and the chance to feel a bit like home while getting cleaned. Entering through the grey door, you lay your bag on a small shelf and hang your towel on a hook beside it. The humidity already making your skin sticky.

The warm water falling on your body feels like a pain reliever, as your muscles immediately relax and the temperature helps in keeping you cozy. Breathy, tired moans escaped your lips while you enjoyed the sensation, entering a bubble of solitude, warmth and peace.

With your eyes closed as you let water fall down your face, you almost didn’t notice the sounds around you. Your head was far away from that bathroom, thinking of a place where mean spirited, annoying coaches and teammates that loved to complain about your smallest mistakes did not exist, but the far sound of engines losing power broke you from dreamland.

Opening your eyes to complete darkness, you feel a pit form in your stomach and your heart skipped out of beat. It wasn’t like you were scared of the dark, but the thought of being alone in the dark exactly where you were, sure made you a tidy bit nervous.

Grabbing your towel from the hook, you loosely wrapped it around yourself. “Hello?” you called out, in hopes your friend would have already returned, but the echoing of your voice through the room was enough of a response: you were indeed alone. “Hello?” you called once more, head peeking out of the shower box to find nothing but darkness.

Stepping outside, your wet feet met the cold stone floors, leaving behind puddles as you ventured your way into the darkness. The sound of dripping water adding to the tension and the weird feeling you got on the base of your stomach. Shit. This could not get any worse.

A soft, barely audible, screech sounded from right in front of you, making you freeze in place. Your breath heavied, and you tried to focus on hearing every sound in that room, fight or flight instincts ready to act, only catching the sound of more dripping water from the same direction of the screeching sound.

The locker area seemed to be even darker than the space you were before. Extending your hands to guide you through the dimness, you finally felt the wooden touch of the lockers as you slowly turned the corner into the empty area.

However, arms still extended in front of you, you suddenly hit something standing in your way… It wasn’t hard like the concrete pillars or the wood of the lockers, it was rather soft, smooth, cold and slightly wet. Sliding your hand over it, you suddenly found a crack and… 

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” you screamed, stepping back swiftly and hitting your back against something hard, losing balance and falling ass first onto the floor. “Ugh”

“Are you alright?” you heard a deep masculine voice fill the room from where your arms had just reached, but you were too scared out of your mind to form any sort of coherent answer. If your scream a few moments earlier didn’t give away that you were not a boy, you wouldn’t be giving him anymore hints you were not the kind meant to be using this room. “Hello? Are you dead?” he called out one more time.

“No!” you replied and immediately covered your mouth. But what the hell kind of question was that?

“Good, I wouldn’t want someone’s cause of death to be touching my butt.”

For that, you were thankful all you could see was black, as whoever it was would not see your cheeks turning redder than they’d ever been. And then you realized, upon feeling the sticky coldness of the tiles on your butt, that you were ass naked on the floor. But not only ass naked, full naked, as your towel had fallen somewhere after your scare.

“Are you alright?” he asked again. “If you don’t know, I’m extending my hand to help you up.”

Closing your eyes shut, you mentally slapped yourself for getting into this situation, and mentally punched your friend for convincing you to get there in the first place. 

Making sure to avoid his stretched arms, you pushed yourself forward on your knees, failing to stand up on the wet puddle you’d formed on the floor.

As if the universe was conspiring against you, though, the lights suddenly were turned on, and when you looked up, you were face to “face” with a large bulk hidden under a white towel. Looking further up, you met with deep blue eyes that made you lose balance once more.

“You aren’t supposed to be here, are you?” he questioned, one eyebrow popping up. But you never got a chance to reply, as both your eyes shifted to the coming sound from out the door. 

Multiple voices screaming out incoherent words you were too nervous to decipher. “Oh shit.” you heard from above your head, and suddenly felt a hold on your upper arm, as the floor quickly moved further from you. “Here, take this.” the boy handed you his towel, exposing himself while he desperately dragged you from your frozen position.

Shoving you inside your shower booth, he disappeared for a second before joining you inside.

“What are you doing?” you asked exasperated, holding both your towel and your eyes for dear life.

“Saving your ass?” he replied, pushing your head down so you were sitting on the floor once more. “Get low or they’ll see you.”

The voices only got louder, as what you now suspected were the basketball team joined you in the changing rooms.

“Can’t you guys have the decency of not throwing your towels on the floor?” you heard someone scream from outside, finding out where your towel had made it to after slipping away from your grip.

A soft chuckle grabbed your attention, and you looked up from your place in the corner of the booth to find the boy who had just saved you from total embarrassment with a huge smirk glued on his lips.

“What are you laughing at?” you mouthed.

“You.” he mouthed back, dramatically accentuating his lip movements while pointing his finger at you as you only pouted in return. Throwing his head back in a silent laugh, you stopped to notice the white strand of hair bouncing along his head movements and hanging on his wet forehead. “What are you doing in the boys locker room anyways?”

“It thought it was empty.” you answered sharply, trying to speak as low as you could, but the boy grew his eyes at you, placing a finger on his lips to shut you up.

A shadow appeared from beneath the door, and soon someone tried to open the door to your stall. Freaked out, you instinctively hid further into your corner, while the boy rushed to hold the door closed.

“Kinda busy, mate.” he warned, resting his body weight on the door.

“Wha... Who is it?” asked the voice from outside.

“It’s Jason Todd. From weightlifting?” 

Upon finally knowing the name of today’s savior, you tried to scan your memory to find any recollection of that name, perhaps hearing that it once, but Jason Todd was total news to you, not so much his naked body standing right in front of you.

“Jay! Did not see you come in!” the boy from outside exclaimed.

“Mikey, hey!” Jason replied awkwardly. “Yeah, hmm… I was here before you guys arrived.”

“In the darkness?” the voice pitch got higher.

“Vibes and shit.” he told, looking at you to find your wide eyes and a look that said what the fuck more than words itself could. “Kinda liked it.” he stuck his tongue out at you.

“Alright, man. Nice shower.” As Jason thanked the guy, Mikey, in return, you watched as the shadow dissipated into the noisy room outside your door. Exhaling a deep breath you didn’t notice you were holding, you allowed relief to consume your body for a brief second.

Jason seemed to relax too, as you watched his shoulder fall down as he turned back in your direction, turning on the shower and getting under the water.

You wanted to complain. You really did, as your towel grew wetter by the second. But finally paying attention to his hanging penis just inches from you took out of your courage to say anything back at him.

To say you were embarrassed was an understatement. Your face must have looked bright red, like a firemen’s truck, because god damn it, there was a naked man showering right beside you.

Holding your towel, now soaked in water, tighter to your chest, you promised yourself not to look, not to glimpse, not even peek at your side for as long as this torturous experience had to last. You knew soon Nessie would come back, and she would find a way to get you out of there. Or so you wished.

When a drop of white foam fell on your cheek, the strong smell of coconut filled your nostrils, forcing you to look up in exasperation. ”Are you fucking for real?!” you whisper-screamed, as you watched him wash the shampoo off his hair.

“Might as well make the most out of this situation.” he simply shrugged, leaving wide eyed and angry.

Shaking your head, you first caught a glimpse of that same colored water falling down his extremely toned calves, and followed their way up to where his legs met his torso, then the well molded line that led to his groin.

Your eyes fell once more, this time for longer, on his member, thick, flaccid but already extensive, and you swore your mouth watered. Swallowing dry, you daren't look up any further, promising yourself to keep your eyes glued at the door. But a scoff brought your attention higher up.

Jason’s eyes held yours for what felt like minutes, darked than you remembered, as his face was decorated with a devilish smirk that had your core feeling… things. He looked at you from under his lashes, trapping you, holding you down without even touching your body. Then, he shifted on his feet, moving his body just slightly in your direction.

You knew what he wanted. You also knew what you wanted, too. 

Biting your bottom lip, trying to hold yourself and your thoughts, you wondered if that would even be a good idea. But you were already fucked anyways, might as well make the expression a reality.

With one more look at the gray door, you hoped, prayed, it kept you safe. Looking up to meet Jason’s darkened eyes, you made sure to hold your gaze on his, looking at him with feigned innocence, with dirt filled intentions, and an almost impatient hunger. 

Letting your towel go from your hold, you get on your knees in front of him, not yet letting his eyes go.

He was not smiling anymore, eyes seemingly drowsy from just looking at yours, mouth almost hanging open, saved by the small part of his brain holding him together. And then your eyes dropped.

You noticed his dick had hardened a bit, just from looking at you, on your knees, ready to submit to him in the dirtiest place he could ever (or never) have imagined. Your breath was heavy, leaving your nose right into his member and teasing him even more.

You licked him, from the tip to the base, eyes trapped on his face and the way it contorted, head hanging back and lips trapped between his teeth. Taking a hold of him from the base, you moved your hand up and down his length, prepping him up, feeling the hardness forming in your palms before going in with your mouth.

His size quickly filled your cheeks, as you pushed him deep into your throat. He moaned loud, and your eyes warningly flashed up to meet his again, telling him to keep quiet just like he did with you before. You let him calm down before moving your head again, up and down his length, hands assisting on the parts that you couldn’t fill in your mouth.

He couldn’t moan, but his body was giving you the right answers to your touch, shaking feverishly, as you sucked him, licked him, devoured him. Oftentimes, you would feel his tip reaching your throat, making you gag and his body jolt from the sensation.

His hands wrapped around your hair, pushing you deeper, harder, as you had to let go of his member to keep yourself steady, holding his tights for support. He was fucking your throat like there was no tomorrow, your tears mixing with the water falling on your head, his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation, and soon you felt the bitter taste of him release hitting your tongue.

Swallowing all, you still hang your tongue out, waiting, begging for more, but he chose to paint your breast with the last few bits of his cum, reaching his hands to massage it all over, holding and picking at your nipple while doing so, the sensation already driving you wild.

Grabbing you by the arm, he pulled you up to your feet, mouth going straight to you boobs, licking his own cum off it, sucking and biting your nipples, drawing breathy moans from deep within your throat. His mouth engulfed your entire boob, or it felt like so, as your head rolled back and he had to hold your hips so you wouldn’t fall.

Pinning you against the wall, he licked his way up your breast to your mouth, tongue going in first and trapping you in a wet, desperate kiss, as you moaned against his lips. Going their way up from your hips, making sure to explore every bit of skin, every curve on your body, his hands came to rest on your neck.

At first, delicately holding your chin up, as he continued to make out with you, sucking your tongue, leaving you breathless. Then, choking you tight while his other played with your clit.

Your body squirmed, jolted, lost all control under his touch. Looking at you through his deep blue eyes, he smirked at you, drowned in ecstasy, in pleasure he was giving you. Inserting two fingers, he moved them quickly inside of you, gluing his mouth on your again before any noise could come out of it.

Quickly, you hit your high and came all over his fingers, as he continued to finger you through it all, slowing down just a little bit at a time.

Letting you ride out your high, he watched you carefully, the hand leaving your neck to hold you by the hips. Lifting his hand up to his lips, he licked them off your orgasm, going back to wet his fingers again, this time placing them on your lips. You sucked them off just like he had done before, and he groaned right before your face.

Pulling your legs around his hips, Jason looked back over his shoulder, staring at the door making sure it was still closed, before looking at you, hand moving up and down his member. He stared at you, eyes meeting each other for the billionth time, and he nodded, asking for permission.

You gave him your dirtiest smirk, arching your back to meet his groin with your pussy and he quickly inserted his tip in you. Slowing, as if trying to drive you crazy, he pushed inside. Once he was fully in, you could feel your walls stretching, trying to fit him all, getting used to the thickness. It hurt a bit, having grown unused to the sensation since the last time you had sex, but he was sweet, kissing you slowly till you gave him any indication to continue.

Wrapping your arms over his shoulder, you pulled him closer, speeding up your kiss and moving your hips around his cock. He let you lead the moment for as long as you could, assisting in holding you up, but when he felt your movements weakening he held you harder against the wall as he thrusted deep inside you.

You were glad for the water, and the many boys screaming and making noises outside, that your own sounds were ignored by everyone else but you two.

Jason’s fingers were printed on where he held you up, still sucking your tongue, as your hands marked his back in what you wish was forever.

His thrusts grew faster, needier, and he struggled to keep quiet. It didn’t take long till he creamed your walls, biting your lip to hold his moan. You felt the silvery taste of blood, but you didn’t want him to stop. And so he didn’t, searching for your release through sloppy thrust and a finger rubbing at your clit.

“J-jay… I’m gonna cum.” you desperately said, begging him for help in not screaming your high out to the entire locker room to hear. Licking and sucking at your throat, he had to quickly move back up and land his lips on yours, as you came all over his dick.

You two kissed for a while longer, bodies weak but a hunger to continue for even longer. 

He let legs fall back to the floor with care, caressing the spot where his fingerprints were printed on. It was gonna be purple by the morning, but you didn’t care at all. 

When his lips left yours, he let out a chuckle, enjoying every second of your neediness. Jason was going down, kissing the base of you torso, when a loud scream came from outside, stealing your attention from his warm lips.

“OH MY GOD, THERE’S AN NBA PLAYER AT THE FRONT OF THE COMPLEX?!” screamed a female voice, as like kids running after the ice cream truck, you heard footsteps, doors banging and questions of “who?” and “where?” being throwing around.

You pushed Jason aside, recognizing that scream even with a misty head. “Y/n?” you heard Nessie call. “Y/n, please tell me you’re alive!”

“Nessie, I’m here.” you replied, hearing she thank God and another 10 different entities altogether.

“Let’s go, before they realize no NBA player would find themselves in this hell hole.”

Turning back, you bumped into Jason’s chest, who wrapped his arms around your middle. 

“Wouldn’t she let us finish?” he begged, mouth traveling above yours.

“Jay” you tried to form anything, any sentence, but his presence, his existence, making you drowsy. “I can’t risk it. I need to go.”

He couldn’t let you, crashing your lips once, twice, three times, before you had to push him away, with not much success.

“I’ll be here every practice, every…”

“Volleyball practice?” you completed, arching your eyebrows.

“Yeah, every fucking volleyball practice.” he said between kissing and marking your neck. “Waiting for you, in the ladies bathroom if you want.”

You gave him a chuckle, trying to untangle him from your body, although you desperately wanted to stay. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” His head bobbed up, looking sad all of a sudden. “You can meet anywhere else that you want, but let’s leave locker rooms behind.”

“I’ll hold you on that promise.” he said, eyebrowns up challengely. “Y/n.”

Your head rolled back at the mere way he pronounced your name, almost failing to leave, almost dropping yourself in his arms again, when Nessie called you once again.

“I need to go.” you told him, grabbing your bag and the rest of your stuff from the shelf.

“Y/n.” Jason called.

“Jay, I’m serious” you moaned, not holding your beaming smile.

“Y/n.” he repeated, as you opened the stall door.

“Ja…” 

“Your towel.” he interrupted, holding you your damped towel as you noticed you didn’t have anything covering your body.

Taking it from his hands and wrapping them around your body, you didn’t even seem to notice its wetness, and neither did Jason, you two still immersed in the early moments to care about anything else.

“Thank you.” you whispered, running as fast as you could while leaving a pool of water on your way out.

“You’re soaking the floor!” Nessie pointed, pulling your hand as you ran in the opposite direction you had come from.

“Oh Nessie, this is the last thing you want me to talk about right now.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x yn #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood smut

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for calling my boyfriend babygirl

let me clarify upfront: my boyfriend has never expressed discomfort with this, and says he likes it, so it’s potentially a non-issue, but it’s still bugging me. this has been ongoing for a little over a month and i feel like i’m going nuts. forgive me if any of the language i use here isn’t correct, i don’t know how else to get the ideas across - feel free to correct me if i could be saying things more inclusively. sorry that this is rambly also. small nsfw warning (nothing too explicit)

i (22m) have been dating my boyfriend (19ftm) for a little over a year. i’m cis and he is trans. admittedly i’m not like… the most well versed in trans issues but i love him more than life itself so i really try to be respectful of him. he was bullied pretty severely in highschool, not just for being trans but his gender identity was no small part of it, and even though he’s not super dysphoric day to day he’s definitely got some boundaries about it. there are certain compliments he likes and some that upset him (he doesn’t enjoy being called pretty or cute, typically) and he’ll snap at people for referring to him with feminine names or titles like “sis” “girl” etc even if it’s done jokingly.

the thing is he’s rarely, if ever, done that with me? i call him pretty and cute all the time (because he is) and he’s always been fine with it. admittedly the first time i did it i didn’t know it was something that usually bugged him, but he’s never said anything to me about it. everytime i have he’s seemed happy. he’s very outspoken, i pretty firmly believe if it was a problem he’d say something about it - again, he has no issues being firm about this boundary with any of his other friends and family. i was doing this before we started dating, so after we started dating it sort of bled into pet names

again, it was never something i asked him about expressly, but at some point i started calling him, like… princess, babygirl, etc. i only ever do this in private, when its just us or when i’m pretty sure only he can hear me, for a few reasons. my boyfriend doesn’t really pass (entirely his choice. he doesn’t bind his chest and he doesn’t want any gender affirming surgeries or hrt - again, he’s not super dysphoric day to day, he only gets upset when it’s commented on and he can bounce back from it pretty quickly) and again, it seems like it’s always made him happy. at the risk of tmi, it especially seems to make him happy in the bedroom, which is another reason i avoid dropping these pet names in front of anyone else. it’s private and i don’t think it’s anyone else’s business.

so. to put this mildly. we went to a house party together recently and i got super smashed. it was a pretty big party so we were sticking by each other, and when you’re drunk and your partner is there… well, yeah. i was admittedly being pretty handsy. he didn’t tell me to knock it off or anything, he was reciprocating. at some point he started talking to his best friend from highschool (19mtf, i’ll call her Z) so i reigned myself in but i was definitely still drunk and horny and being clingy. i don’t know Z all that well - she and my boyfriend are very close but she can be pretty harsh, and i appreciate all she does for him so i like her, but we never talk unless he’s there. i’ve had maybe one one-on-one conversation with this woman ever.

they’re talking. i’m also there. i’m not trying to rush him but i definitely want to get home. the conversation lulls and i take the chance to ask my boyfriend if he wants to leave soon, and because i am aforementionedly drunk and horny i drop one of those earlier pet names. before he can respond to me, Z snaps at me. she says not to call him that and that i was being a creep - this alarms me and was kind of frustrating since i wasn’t even talking to her, and i recognize i’m not in a headspace to argue? with her? so i just tell my boyfriend to come find me when he wants to leave and i wander outside. he finds me about 5-10 minutes later and we head home.

it doesn’t get brought up again that night but a day or so later i text Z to ask her what she meant by me being a creep, because it was bugging me. she says that it’s obvious i’m fetishizing my boyfriend’s gender identity, that the fact i call him those things brings up major red flags, etc. i tell her that my boyfriend doesn’t have an issue with it. she says it doesn’t matter and asks me why i want to call him those names in the first place, and posits that maybe i don’t actually want to be dating a boy - that i just like the idea of dating a boy and actually want to be with a woman. i’m gay, so this is VERY out of pocket to me. i tell her my boyfriend is not a woman and end the conversation there, but it DOES stick with me. so, very belatedly, i ask my boyfriend what he thinks of all this. i adore him so much and i hate hate hate the idea i could’ve been treating him like that, even unintentionally. he says the pet names never bothered him and he’s never felt like that, and that he’s fine with me specifically doing it because he trusts me and knows i don’t see him as a girl.

so, whatever. she has a problem but me and my boyfriend don’t. i try to move on, but the next time i see her she asks if i’ve apologized/reflected at all. i tell her no, because my boyfriend said i have nothing to apologize for and it seems like a non-issue. she is now avoiding me, refuses to be in the same room as me, and will declare to anyone who asks that she doesn’t want to be near someone who fetishizes trans people and she doesn’t feel safe around me. my boyfriend tries to talk to her but she insists i need to apologize at the bare minimum, but to who? even if i did apologize to my boyfriend i wouldn’t mean it and he wouldn’t want it. Z is his long-time best friend, i can’t exactly go the rest of our relationship just avoiding her. so i have no damn idea where to go from here.

on some level, i worry she’s right? i honestly don’t know why i started calling him those things. i think it started as a joke but i just kept doing it when i noticed he seemed to like it. in hindsight that was maybe shitty of me, but i trust him to tell me when something i do is making him uncomfortable. it’s not like i can do that over, but if he ever told me to stop i would. it’s definitely true that if you saw my boyfriend on the street you’d probably assume he’s a woman, but i’ve never been attracted to anyone who actually identifies as a woman before. i’ve only ever liked men, and no matter what he looks like he is a man. this whole situation did make me think about how i think about him, and i’ve realized that, like… i want to have kids with him one day, and ideally i’d like him to carry them. ideally, but id never make him. if he decided tomorrow that he wanted to medically transition and go the whole nine yards i’d support him. he’s my whole world, i just want him to be happy. but does the fact i want him to carry children prove her right?

i’m just. confused. i feel like i’m running myself in circles. Z knew him in highschool so she was there when bullying over his gender was at his worse, so i get why she’s protective. she’s also trans herself so she undoubtedly understands this stuff better than me. but i’ve heard it’s normal for trans people to have complicated relationships with gender, so it’s normal to be okay with gendered language from some people and not others (like only letting close friends use certain pronouns for you). i figure it’s like that, but it’s not my gender so… i don’t know. should i just stop calling him those pet names altogether, even though i know at this point he enjoys them, to be safe? am i an asshole for calling him those things in the first place / would i be an asshole if i kept doing it?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[freedomfireflies]

So I’m a cheerleader.. and I was thinking Stiles being with a cheerleader reader and he gets all hot and bothered seeing her walk around the school in uniform because it hugs her figure perfectly, so he pulls her into an empty classroom and you know 😉😉 and he tells her how short her skirt is and how it’s “easy access”

Stiles Stilinski is not subtle.

Especially when it comes to his staring, which was made very clear to you the day you first joined the team, before later showing up at his house in your new cheerleading uniform.

And his eyes had nearly bugged out of his head.

And he drooled.

Literally drooled.

All down his chin.

And it's for this very reason that you've decided to wear the dangerous outfit to school today, just to make sure he gets a really good look.

Technically, practice isn’t until after school, and most of the other girls prefer to change in the locker room just before.

And that’s normally how you prefer it, too. After all, this skirt leaves little to the imagination but even more so…it lets in a draft.

And it’s February. And very cold, and very brisk, and your legs are very bare.

But it’ll be worth it to watch the line of drool dribble from Stiles’ mouth as you swing your hips by his desk.

And you’re rewarded with exactly that as you saunter your way from one side of the classroom to the other, pretending to be oblivious to your charm, and to his presence, as you call a greeting to your friend.

You keep your back to him because you know if you catch a glimpse of his face, you’ll smirk. And if he knows you know what you’re doing, then he’ll make sure to make you regret it.

…which, you suppose wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Still, you keep him behind you and begin a conversation with one of the other girls on the team. You exchange stories about how your weekend was and what you’re looking forward to during practice.

But you don’t miss the sound of his throat clearing. You don’t miss the sound of his chair scraping across the floor, or the sound of his footsteps parading after you. 

And you smile.

“What, no hello for me?” comes the familiar, soft taunt, slipping just over your shoulder.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and glance to the side. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Hey, Stiles.”

He swallows a scoff. “Oh, I think you can do better than that.”

Your eyes roll as he steps in front of you and leans back against your desk, forcing your attention on him.

Then, he grins. “So…do better.”

Still, you keep your playfully annoyed expression firm on your face as you shrug and let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Hello, Stiles. Is that good enough for you?”

“Mm-mm.” His head shakes. “Try again.”

Your arms cross in front of your chest. “Well, it’s just gonna have to be, because class is about to start, and I don’t have time for this.”

With that, you reach out to lightly shove him to the side and out of your way so you can slip by and take your seat.

But you hadn’t anticipated the contact to be so…electrifying. You suppose it makes sense. After all, you and Stiles haven’t really had a lot of…quality time together recently. Both so busy with extracurriculars, homework, and friends. 

You hadn’t meant to go two weeks without, and truthfully, you thought you’d been doing fine. Sure, once in a while, you’d find yourself lying in bed with your fingers between your thighs. But Stiles was always on the other side of that phone call, talking you through it, telling you how much he missed it, and how pleased he was to hear you fuck yourself to the sound of his voice.

Now, as you wrestle him out of your way, you feel his fingers brush the outside of your thigh as you pass by, and your breath catches in your throat as your mind suddenly goes fuzzy.

You both seem to still, now abundently aware of how badly you need each other.

You look up at him.

He looks back.

You swallow.

He smiles.

“Uh…Mr. Clark?” he’s suddenly calling, turning toward the man now taking his place near the front of the classroom.

Mr. Clark looks up. “Yes?”

“I’m…I’m not feeling so hot,” Stiles says, voice labored and thick as if in great pain. “I need to go see the nurse.”

Mr. Clark sighs as he waves his hand through the air dismissively. “Fine but be quick about it, please. We have a lot to cover.”

“Yes, Sir,” Stiles replies, taking a step back before stumbling rather dramatically as his hands reach out to grasp onto you. “Oh. Oh, gosh. I…I don’t think I can make it there on my own, I feel…I feel so weak and dizzy.”

Mr. Clark’s expression drops into an unamused frown. “Is that so?”

Stiles nods, blinking innocently. “Yeah, I…I sure hope I don’t pass out on the way there. That would just be…so bad. I could seriously get hurt. But…no. No, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, I’ll…I’ll just hold onto the wall and hope I remember how to walk—”

“My god, just take him,” Mr. Clark interrupts, now nodding his chin at you. “It’s fine. Just take him, and hurry back.”

Doing your best not to laugh, you chew on the inside of your cheek and loop your arm under Stiles’ shoulder to help guide him toward the door.

He pretends to be faint, swaying from side to side as you do your best to keep him walking in a straight line.

And because this is Stiles, he makes this as difficult as possible, resting almost all of his weight on you as work to keep yourself upright.

Once you’re in the hall, you expect him to drop the act, but he doesn’t. Not until you’ve passed the few straggling students and teachers.

You also expect that he wants to actually head to the nurse’s office. His favorite place to have you because it's quiet, secluded, and it has a bed.

But this theory of yours is also proven wrong when he suddenly skids to a stop in the middle of the hallway, grabs onto your wrist, and yanks you through what seems to be a random door.

Once you’re both safely inside, you peer around the dark space, and piece together that he’s brought you into one of the empty study rooms. 

However, you aren’t afforded an opportunity to discover much more than that because just as you’re starting to get comfortable, you feel his hands.

One is on your hip, and the other is nudging between your thighs to pry you open. And as he does, he guides you back toward one of the desks and places you on top before placing himself between your legs.

Your palms meet the cold, hard surface behind you as you brace yourself and stumble over a gasp. “What…what—”

“This?” he murmurs under his breath, fisting at the fabric of your cheerleading skirt with contempt. “This is fucking cruel.”

Your lashes flutter but you can’t deny the flush of your cheeks at his approval. “What do you mean?”

He makes a noise deep in the back of his throat as he guides the fabric up your lap, eying it—and you—closely. “You know exactly what I mean, sugar. Know you do. Know you wore this just to hurt me. Know you wanted me to see just how easy it would be to have you. Right then. Right there. In front of everybody.”

You stay silent because he’s right, and you just hope he plans to do something about it. 

“It does, you know,” he continues softly, long fingers caressing the soft, tender skin of your inner thigh. “It does hurt me. Every inch of you hurts me. Not having you hurts me. Not being with you hurts me—”

He stops, and your heart just about drops to your ass as he ghosts his lips above yours and hooks his thumb under the lace of your underwear.

You both still.

“—do you wanna hurt me, sugar?” he asks, and you immediately shake your head. “Good. S’good. So…what do you want?”

He won’t go further than this until you say the words, and while you appreciate the sentiment, your tongue doesn’t seem to want to work right now.

“You,” you breathe. “Always you, Stiles, please.”

You watch his entire face light up as he finally concedes and kisses you. God, he kisses you with so much love and lust and adoration that your head spins and your lungs just about give out.

“Yeah?” he whispers.

You nod.

“Good. Then let’s do something about it.”

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

#dylan #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien one shot #stiles stilinksi #stiles #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski blurb #stiles stilinski request #blurb #request